Posted: 01/30/16

"Sir," she turned serious, troubled eyes to him, "sir, will you promise me something?"

"Well," he hesitated. "If it is within my power and inclination, I shall."

She was silent for a moment and then she began her request, "Will you promise me that…no matter how things between us work out- I mean," she stopped again. He watched her gathering her thoughts and saw that her eyes were glistening with some suppressed emotion. "I just want you to promise me that, no matter what happens from here on out, you'll never bring me back here, to him."

Away from Hurt

19th September, 1995

10:30 pm

Dumbledore had absolutely no intention of bringing her back to these people and told her so immediately. "You have my word."

"Now then," he instructed her, "If you'll just take a strong grip on your valise, and a light grip on my arm here, we'll be on our way."

Luxminder was confused about why she had to hold his arm for them to leave and wondered if it was to do with magic. "Is it for magic?" she asked, her voice underscored with excitement and a dash of fear.

"Yes. And it will feel quite strange and uncomfortable, I'm afraid. But it is the most expeditious way to achieve our destination, Ms. O."

"Please, call me Lux," she told him.

"That's lovely, Lux," he responded and held out his arm for her to take. "In Latin it means l-"

"Light." She looked a bit abashed for interrupting him, but then told him, "I know."

Dumbledore gave a small nod and a smile, made a mental note not to underestimate her intelligence, and held out his arm for her once more.

Instead of putting her hand on him, she eyed it cautiously while she asked, "And what shall I call you, sir?" She vaulted her eyes up to his. "Professor?"

"That will do, I suppose, although I am not your professor. You are more than welcome to call me Mr. Dumbledore if you wish," he said, and then, without further ado, he took hold of her arm, anxious to leave, and Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

He could feel immediately that she hadn't come with him. Even through the tubular compression – which could never be expressed as pleasant, but which he'd grown long used to - the absence of her arm in his hand was known to him. Dumbledore popped onto the stoop at number 12 without his Muggle companion.

Without hesitating to ponder the 'whys' of what had just happened, he Apparated back to her.

As soon as she heard the loud crack and realized that Dumbledore had gone without her, Luxminder's heart quickened with fear. He'd left her here!

But then he was back, looking quite perturbed.

"I'm sorry, Lux." Dumbledore stood quietly for a moment, and then said, "Let's try that again, shall we?"

This time, frightened that she'd be abandoned, Luxminder took the arm that he presented for a handle without pause.

And then, with a bang, he was gone and alone again, gripping nothing but her own fist, she was in the first throes of panic once more. He returned immediately. But this time he didn't say anything for a tense, prolonged moment.

This happening was giving Dumbledore the most perplexed feeling, and he was disquieted by it.

"You won't leave me, will you?!" Luxminder asked him desperately.

"No, Lux, I won't," he reassured her. "Let's try once more."

This time he decided to try a more forceful method by clasping her wrist as tightly as he could.

Luxminder was surprised by the strength of such thin, gnarled fingers, and gasped a bit at the tightness of his grip. But with another whipping crack that seemed to ricochet off the very air in her bedroom, he was gone again, and then back even quicker than before.

When he was beside her again she was disturbed by the look he was giving her. He was studying her the way she looked at insects with a pin stuck through them, except without the disgust – only fascination.

"I don't think this is working," she stated bluntly.

And then he startled her by chuckling. It was a rich warming sound, soothing. "No," he agreed with kind, sparkling eyes, "I think not."

Dumbledore didn't even consider summoning the Knight Bus, and, if he was alone and unable to Apparate to London, he would have given it some serious consideration. But the Knight Bus would be full of too many observant eyes, for he knew that there were many who were trying to keep track of his movements. In addition to Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Dumbledore was aware that even Fudge had a deep interest in all of his comings and goings outside of Hogwarts. The Wizarding population in England comprised a relatively small community. If Dumbledore traveled anywhere on public, magical transportation, it would be talked of. And there would also be gossip pertaining to his traveling companion.

So he sighed and surveyed their surroundings as though seeing them anew. And he was viewing them through fresh eyes; ones without the advantages of magic; and later he would reflect endlessly to himself that his acquaintanceship, and later his friendship with Luxminder, forced him see the world through this perspective again and again. It would be an education that Dumbledore would take in his calm, light-hearted stride at times, and, at others, would leave him frustrated, exhilarated, and humbled. Eventually he would come to view Luxminder as his life's greatest unclaimed discovery, also one of his guiltiest indulgences. He would come to relish and rue the day she had limped into the sole scope of his expansive knowledge.

"We will have to take Muggle transport I'm afraid. Do you know how we can get to London, dear? I am at a loss, you see, because I did not plan on us having to undertake a cross-country route."

"You mean, this doesn't happen very often?" she asked in a worried voice.

"Never. To my knowledge. Which I assure you is vast," he told her with placid geniality.

Luxminder was nervous. She had expected him to handle their departure with skillful ease and assumed they would have been gone from this dreadful place by now.

"Okay, well, you just need me to get us to London, and then you'll know what to do from there?" she asked.

"Yes, Lux."

"Right," she said. "We'll have to walk to the station I suppose. Unless you know how to drive?"

"A walk to the train station it will have to be. Will you allow me to send your valise ahead, to save us the burden of carrying it?"

"Er, sure." She set it down and watched him wave his wand at it. It disappeared and was replaced by the first grin he'd seen on her face since he'd come for her.

But then her face fell as she said a bit ruefully, "I haven't got any money. I mean, for the train, Mr. Dumbledore. Do you?"

"Not Muggle money, no. Perhaps he has some," Dumbledore suggested, quirking his head toward the ceiling.

Dumbledore instructed her to wait for him and left the room. Luxminder sat down on the bed and listened to his creaky journey across the upstairs, heard some muffled voices, and then, after about five minutes he returned with a hand full of notes. He handed them to her and she swiftly counted them. As she stuffed them into a pocket of her trousers, she said, "I think this will be enough. I haven't been to London since…"

As they left the bedroom and headed outside he inquired gently, "Since your parents died?"

She nodded.

"Did he hurt your leg?"

Luxminder brought her eyes up to his for a brief moment and then she softly shook her head and simply said, "No."

Dumbledore thought she would perhaps elaborate further on her perceptible limp, but she said nothing.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked her as they headed across the star and moonlit lawn. He allowed her to lead them, as well as set the pace.

"I'm fine," she said dismissively.

"Do you have any questions you'd like to ask me?" he wanted to know. Dumbledore had a million questions he burned to ask. She, on the other hand, didn't seem in the least bit inclined to talk, and confirmed this assessment with a terse, "No."

This night was not going the way Dumbledore had planned at all. He had to meet with Mad-Eye in two hours because the craggy-faced ex-Auror had sent him a missive that morning stating he'd stumbled onto some important information, and it could only be discussed in person. Dumbledore had planned to Apparate Luxminder to Grimmauld Place and spend the next two hours questioning her extensively about her "gift" to find out what she knew already and what she didn't.

Now however, after the day he had just watched her have, it did not seem kind to make her speak if she did not want to. Most especially as he had placed the burden of getting the two of them to London safely on her wispish shoulders.

He hoped she might be in a more talkative mood once they'd gained seats on the train and were at last leaving the birthplace of all her abuse and unrelieved grief. But after she bought them each a ticket and they found places to sit in a sparsely peopled compartment, Luxminder leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. She was directly across from him and Dumbledore couldn't keep his eyes off of her, didn't even try. She did seem drained. He'd noticed that right away. The way her shoulders sagged and her head tended to drop a little to one side. It seemed to Dumbledore that the strange young woman in front of him laboured beneath some too-heavy load that she dare not set down because she knew that, if ever she were to, picking it up again would be impossible.

Why had he not been able to Apparate her, he wondered. And she had not only seemed to be aware of his presence the entire day, often making eye contact with him, but she betrayed no hint of surprise when he had lifted the Disillusionment Charm to reveal himself. If Dumbledore did not know with absolute certainty that such a thing were impossible, he would have wondered if she were a witch who had been overlooked by the Ministry. As she sat there, her dark head tilted back, her inky braid hanging over her shoulder, and her purple-lidded eyes shut, Dumbledore experienced a portentous malaise. Was he doing the right thing with this? He knew that he'd just rescued her from an inhumane position, one no person should have to withstand. If Potter had had anything half so bad as that with the Dursleys, he should have removed him years ago.

Dumbledore checked his pocket watch for the time, and sighed as he poured over the timetable on his ticket. According to the indices they would not be in central London for an hour, at least. And once they did reach the closest station to Headquarters there was still a remaining balance of five kilometers.

Dumbledore moved to the seat beside the Muggle and quietly asked, "How did you find me, Lux? Can you find anyone, anywhere?"

She hefted a core-weary sigh and kept her eyes closed and her head situated on the seat as she softly answered his questions. "No, sir. I have to know what someone looks like before I can find them, once I've slipped away. I found you at the Ministry of Magic. I was watching Fudge quite a bit then. I actually considered, believe it or not…revealing myself to him, and offering to spy on you in exchange for help with…that back there." Without breaking her reclined position, she lifted a slender hand to scratch daintily at the end of her nose, while Dumbledore looked on, mesmerized. "But I didn't really want to, you know? I mean, ask him for help."

"You had reservations," Dumbledore stated in an encouraging and neutral voice, which indicated that her misgivings with Fudge were completely natural.

"Well, yeah, because he's such a two-faced windbag, and I… I think he seems like kind of an idiot."

Dumbledore couldn't help smiling a bit. She was astute.

"And," she continued, "I also thought… Well, he seems too…"

"Yes?"

She rested her elbow against the window and propped her head in her hand, slit her eyes and peered out at him from under her thick fringe of lashes.

When she still didn't answer, just continued to peek indecisively his way, he prompted, "He seems too what?"

Luxminder widened her eyes a bit, and started to volley her gaze between him and his reflection in the dark glass of the window. Dumbledore saw her shoulders shift a little upwards before she answered, "Power hungry."

Terrifically astute.

"But not me?" he asked.

Saying it slowly, "We-el," she stopped a moment and appraised him, as though she wanted to weigh up exactly what she should and should not express. Then she took a deep huff of breath and told him, "No, not really. I think… You know, I overheard Fudge saying all kinds of bad stuff about you, and I thought it was all true. I really did. But then one day, there you were. And you seemed so calm and-and…confident. So then I decided to watch you for a while, and I realized that you were telling the truth. I mean, I realized that you had to be.

"At first, I truly believed that I'd see you plotting to overthrow Fudge, because of how sure he'd been. But all you ever do is – I mean, when you're not busy taking care of your school and your pupils – but all I've ever really seen you doing, other than that, is talking and plotting and trying to figure things out about this Lord Voldemort fellow. That's when I realized that- that-"

"That what?" he encouraged her to keep going.

"That you…need someone like me. That everyone does. And I don't know. You do seem to genuinely care for people. Your students and your staff." She fidgeted a bit, tucked some hair behind her ear, and pushed her glasses farther up onto the bridge of her nose, while she asked him, "Are you mad at me? I thought you might be mad. I mean, b-because I watched you. I've never really told anyone what I can do before."

It was Dumbledore's turn to give pause while he took measure of what could be prudently voiced. After about a minute he said, "I suppose it depends on what you do with your…your power. If you use it to hurt people, or for your own selfish ends, then that would be very wrong. But I am glad that you want to help my cause. You will be helping yourself and all the Muggles in England for doing this.

"So, you can only find a person once you've seen them while you're…uh, 'slipped away', I believe you called it?" Lux had closed her eyes again but she nodded, to answer his question, and then told him, "When I'm slipped away, or when I've seen them, you know, in real life as well."

"I see. So once you know what someone looks like you can find them. Can you find people that you've seen in pictures?"

"No."

"You've tried it?"

"Yes."

"What do you know about Voldemort?"

She was quiet for a few moments before she responded, "Not much. Just that he was dead or something, and then that Potter kid saw him dropped into a big, magical pot of primordial goo, and when he got out he had a new body. And I know that he's a really bad wizard who wants to…I don't know. Rule everybody, I guess. And I've heard you saying things about people that he's killed. And before he died all those years ago, there was a war or something." She paused again and then continued, "And I've heard you speculating about which wizards and witches you think will help him- his Death Eaters, I think you called them. And you think that a war's going to break out again soon, and I guess that's it. I think that's all I know really."

"What do know about the Order of the Phoenix? How many of its members have you seen?"

"Well, I know what it is, if that's what you mean. It's a group of wizards and witches who want to fight him. Your friends. And, um, I've seen…Snape and McGonagall, up at the school of course, and I've seen you with a fellow named Mundungus in a really seedy looking pub. Let's see. I've seen you with a young woman named Tonks; I saw you one evening talking with a fellow named Lars at his flat, and I saw his wife, Magda, and their new baby, Imogen. She was adorable." A little smile flirted at the corners of her mouth. "Then one time I saw you visiting with a ginger-haired young man named Bill? I believe that was his name; you were at his flat with him. And I think that's about it."

"Have you seen our headquarters?"

"No. But I watched you write the address down once."

"Can you still recite it?"

"Yes."

"Say it to me, if you please."

"Number 12, Grimmauld Place. London."

"Have you watched me Apparate?"

"What's that?"

"Apparating is to magically move from one place to another. It would look like I just popped away from one spot and reappeared in another. Have you watched me do that? And if so, how long did it take you to find me again?"

"I've seen it. I didn't know what it was called, yeah? But I've definitely seen it and it doesn't take but a second for me to find you again when you do it. I've only to picture you, and then I'm there. Wherever you are, it's only a second or two for me to catch you up."

"And now I need to ask you something, and it is vital that you are truthful. Have you ever seen Harry Potter?"

She didn't even pause. "Not yet. No. I think I just missed him once though."

"Not yet," Dumbledore muttered to himself.

"Where will I stay?"

Dumbledore was so deep in thought, he didn't answer at once. "In light of what I've just learned, I am not sure, Lux."

They were quiet for a while after this exchange, and only Luxminder's punctuating yawns belied her consciousness.

Dumbledore kept one eye cocked toward the little electric sign that brightly flashed the next stopping point, and was trying to decide which station would bring them closest to Grimmauld Place. He was also trying to decide who should be told what, in regards to Lux. Dumbledore had long ago learned that transparency was the safest and swiftest route to trust and, in many cases, productivity, but he also knew that sometimes secrets could serve imperative purposes for protection. He'd decided, before he ever set off to retrieve her, that he wouldn't introduce members of his Order to Luxminder until he had established, irrevocably, more certainties about her "power" and, most importantly, her intentions. He reflected that if she were a pupil of his, he would already possess key insights into her personality, simply by knowing which house the Sorting Hat had placed her in. As he sat there, counting down the minutes to their destination, watching her metallicy teeth flash each time she yawned, he wondered if she had the calculating heart of a Slytherin, the daring of a Gryffindor, the sharpest wit of a Ravenclaw, or the stalwart loyalty of a Hufflepuff. If only he knew that, he felt he would have some handle on how to approach her. A better angle, a cleaner edge for dealing with her.

As was inevitable, no matter how patiently or impatiently they awaited the moment, they were in central London, and were soon exiting at the proper station. Grimmauld Place was only about five kilometers from this point and Dumbledore apologized as he told her they should probably walk, and apologized again for making her hike so far when it was so late and she must be very tired. But she shrugged and yawned and told him she wasn't that sleepy, and then she yawned again.

After about twenty minutes Dumbledore led her through a small park. She seemed a bit nervous away from the street lamps and Luxminder folded her arms across her chest, hunched her shoulders as though trying to shrink, and she kept darting worried glances into the deepest shadows.

Dumbledore stopped by a bench. The square in front of Number 12 was, he knew, just around the next clump of bushes.

"Please sit down here for a moment while I go and check something," Dumbledore directed her.

"You're going to leave me alone in a dark London park, in the middle of the night?" she asked, clearly shocked. Her tone was a touch disapproving.

"I am going to cast some spells," he explained quietly, as he drew out his wand, "that will deter all passers-by from approaching you from a ten foot radius, Lux. Just don't move from this spot, and I promise you shan't be waiting here for long. We are almost to your bed, and a bath should you want it."

When the spells were cast, Dumbledore walked into the impenetrable shadows and disappeared.

Luxminder yawned and lay down on the hard bench. Within seconds she was asleep.