Chapter 2: A Friendly Face

Three months later

Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had been given the blessing of pure free time before the next year of school started at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had about a month until the beginning of the new term, and as usual, he strolled through Diagon Ally watching people and saying hello to those who ran up to speak to him. The light laughs that rang through the crowd were alluring, brightening his day with the weather. Even so, his destination was in the darker parts of the area, even when he had to glance down at his list he frowned. The potions professor had returned to his dreary childhood home, where he hated to leave once the summer had begun. He had requested a list of the darker items that couldn't be found in the open market of the light Diagon Ally and he was set to return to the castle by the end of the week. Dumbledore understood the darker parts may not allow the potions professor in, the darkness of what he had done, and his ability to avoid persecution was a well-hated fact among the normal crowds of the area.

As he headed down the steps and into the 'slums' known as Knockturn ally, he put his eye on his destination for finding a purchase. It took a total of a half an hour of shopping until all the materials he could check off were found. His relief couldn't be suppressed as he walked toward the entrance, he had come in. But, for some reason, he felt a pull toward a different direction, causing him to pause and frowned. A dark-haired young girl sat just far enough in an ally to not be noticed by many, but just close enough to the point where she could see everyone else.

She sat, obviously awake, her glazed over eyes staring forward but looking at nothing. It was an unusual place for a young girl, or a child, in general, to be without their parents. The look on her face was so much unlike any child he had seen, even just looking into the ground it was lost. "If you're looking at the kid, no one knows who the 'ell she is." A man, with a top hat walked up, following Dumbledore's gaze. "Show'd up a few weeks back. Took us a while to figure out she was taking food. Lil thief." The man laughed, and Dumbledore watched as she didn't move. "Most the stores told 'er that if she stepped into them again, she'd be arrested: only took one nicely shot curse. She started begging." The man laughed again, and the elder felt his stomach tighten. Dumbledore wasn't sure why the man had chosen to talk to him. Perhaps to warn him or because he could see the look on Albus's face.

The young girl looked too familiar to him, a younger version of another he had once known.

"Watch your wallet. Two, maybe three days back she just stopped. She sat there: She's always there, hasn't left that area." With a chuckle, he started to walk off. "Guess we're just waiting for her to leave. She's gotta figure she ain't gettin anything from round here: She ain't know nothing about being a whore, so she ain't gonna get no more money." Even as he walked away chuckling with what seemed to be drunken humor, Dumbledore felt his own moral dilemma fall into place.

Shrinking everything he had bought into his bag, he placed it into his satchel and walked across the street to the ally where the young girl sat. Her eyes didn't move from their spot as he got closer until he had knelt to get a closer view of her.

She was curled into a fetal position with her head on her knees, hardly anything covered her body apart from what looked to be a torn up and used men's jacket and a few pieces of sheet. Signs of abuse read themselves across her pale skin, her cheekbones extremely defined and body slightly quaking from the cool of the shade. She had dark bags surrounding her eyes and her feet were shoeless and visibly torn and crusted over from walking without cover. Her hair was much more of a mess than it looked to be from afar. It seemed to need a comb through it, and to be cut, knots made it run wild and stick up. In the end, she looked more animalistic than a human child. Up close, her green eyes shone grey, a look of loss he had only seen on fully grown adults. One that he hadn't seen in a long time.

"Hello there?" The old man bent down to her height, getting her attention by waving the ground she stared at. Her eyes closed for a second in a prolonged blink before looking up and into his own. As if she were an empath, he could feel despair and loss in her eyes, but there was not so much fear as there was indifference. She stared at him for a few seconds before blinking again, waiting. "My name is Albus. What's your name?" He waited for a few seconds as she continued to blankly stare at him, and when she didn't respond he let out a small breath. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" Letting his voice travel across as friendly to the young girl he watched as her eyes widened for a moment before narrowing, almost glaring at him, and he knew she could understand every word he was saying. But still, aside from the movement of her eyes, she didn't uncurl or so much as move. "Here, You and I can go and get something." When he offered a hand, her eyes shifted back and forth between his face and his offering. Untrusting. For one so young, the scorn she had for people, just seen through her eyes was nearly unbearable for him. All her pain slipped through with her glare. Her feelings of the world were loud as she stared at him. Even so, as his pain grew, his want to help her did as well. "I promise, I can get you taken care of. Food, water, you can take a bath, and get new clothes." Her eyes only narrowed more. "Pinky Promise." He held out his smallest finger and saw her eyes grow with curiosity.

Her small and boney hand reached out to his with her own pinky out, and he squeezed it slightly, moving to help her stand. The jacket slipped on her shoulder to show her small and nearly bear body, scratches and scars from her neck to her feet and dark blue and purple bruises reached around her the dark colors in shapes of hands. It was painfully obvious what she had been through her time on the streets. But her eyes had a sad light that said she would do almost anything for survival. She went to take a step closer to the headmaster before her leg gave out, causing him to have to hold her under both of her arms to keep her from collapsing.

Her eyes watered up, her pain showing as she tried to get her feet under her one more.

Dumbledore's mind was set then. He knew what he was going to do. Taking a step closer, he lifted her up by her arms and set her against his hip. She trembled at the quick movement. He swept down slightly to grab the Jacket to cover her up a little more. Her eyes stayed widened as she looked at him, and he turned to her so he could look her in the eyes as well. "I'm going to apparate: To my home okay? We'll get you warm and safe. But it will feel weird." The young girl took a few seconds before her dirty face and hair moved up and down in conformation. She seemed to understand what he was telling her. Adjusting her and thinking very carefully, he took them straight to the front gates of the school, both opening the moment he got close enough to walk through them.

The girl leaned away for him for the first few steps, her eyes darted around with surprise at the new environment. But she didn't pull away or struggle completely. She wasn't sick and didn't seem dizzy like most people after their first apparition. Instead, she just looked. Her attention fell to the forest, and then to the gate closing by itself. Eventually, she let her small body relax, leaning toward him and allowing her small head to fall onto his shoulder. The look in her eyes even as she stared toward the castle was tired. She looked exhausted. They walked up to the entrance and Dumbledore magically opened the large doors with the flick of his wand, the gust of the slightly cooler air inside was refreshing and clean. The only sound was the light tap of his legs against the hardwood floor, echoing as they climbed more stairs, eventually reaching the gargoyle to Dumbledore's office.

"Peppermint Paper," The older man said, stepping onto the stairs as they began to move. When the door opened, the short chatter in the room became silent between the pictures as they saw the young girl he held. Everyone seemed curious as he set her down in a reclining chair. The girl herself was watching the pictures with large eyes, curious as to why they had been speaking in the first place. She was unfamiliar with having so many watching her, a few even whispering to one another. None the less, when she was set down, the headmaster ran a hand through her dirty hair and glanced over at his table.

"Melina?" With a rather loud pop; the young girl jumped, and a house-elf entered the room. The small girl shrunk away and further into the chair. Dumbledore, ever so cautious of her reactions, along with the house elf's curiosity, calmly noted her hiding. "Could you ask Minerva to make her way here, tell her I'm sorry for disturbing her and her husband? Could you also get some food up here? Preferably easily chewable food, and a small verity with children's utensils?"

"Of course Headmaster" The squeaky voice of the elf grinned. "Melina is happy to help!" She said in the third person, causing the old man to smile and nod his head. With a second Pop, she had already disappeared.

Dumbledore walked over to the young girl, bending down so he could look her in the eyes. "I'm going to go and get you some clothes, and possibly run you a bath. Stick in here?" The young girl stared at him for a few seconds before nodding her head, watching as he stood back up to his normal height and walked swiftly through a door behind his desk. The headmaster made his way around the corner to the hidden entrance of his private quarters and to a trunk in his spare room, pushing a few books and things off the top, opening it lightly with a swish of his wand. After doing so, he reached in and grabbed a dress, shifting around until he could find one that wasn't too large, and even then, he used a charm to shrink it. Grabbing a pair of nightclothes, he moved the chest out a bit toward the center of the room. Making his way then down to the office.

The young girl had moved, but only slightly. She sat up on the chair with her attention turned toward his bookshelf, looking at some of the pictures sitting on it. The bulk of them were not overly personal pictures. Some of the Hogwarts staff over the years, one or two with him and students. The book collection though ranged from fairytales to defense against the dark arts books. She seemed young, but the way she looked at the books proved that she had at least a little bit of knowledge on how to read. Dumbledore stood in the doorway for a few seconds before he made a bit more noise walking into the room. Her head turned toward him immediately and she watched as he made his way over to her. Taking the dress he had in his hands, he lifted it up to her sitting body, checking the size before pushing it toward her. She picked it up and looked at it, and then, once more with wide eyes to him.

"Do you think you can put it on yourself? I can show you to a room further back?"

She nodded and he helped her to stand. When she walked, she stumbled a bit toward the beginning, but they walked slow enough for her to regain her footing. When they reached the door to the empty room, Dumbledore waved his wand about and transfigured a few books to a bed and set the pajamas on it. The young girl was already working off the scraps covering her. In doing so, she showed her skinny body. Almost every bone in her legs could be seen down to the crease, her stomach was no better; her ribs were practically out in the open and he could see the bruises with even more details. Even so, he had to give the girl some sort of privacy, and walked into the main room once more, finding food already set out, along with tea for two. The old headmaster couldn't help but be proud of the house elf's quick efforts in making food, but it wasn't too much of a surprise either, the summer was slow for them, and it would be until the last week of August when they began making sure the dorms were up to par for the incoming students.

As he poured the tea, there was a light knock on his door, and he set down the cup across from where he sat when he invited the younger teacher in.

She was dressed in a trench coat, and it was easy to tell she hadn't put much thought into what she was going to wear, she was still dressed casually. "Hello, Albus. Did you need me for something important? Because I just finished eating." One could tell her attention had already been drawn to the food that sat on the table.

"Yes actually, I needed a bit of help with-. " He stopped as he looked toward the entrance to the office, the young girl hid slightly peaking around the corner of the door looking at the professor. In her hand, she held the laces to the back of the dress that she couldn't reach, but it seemed to fall out of her mind with the entrance of a new person. "Come here, child." He motioned the young girl forward, and she stared at him before quietly making her way toward him. He leaned down and took the laces from her hands, tying them in a small bow after lacing the last of them, and then brushing off the rest of her dress. When he finished, he set her down in the chair he had set in front of the food and watched as she scanned it.

"A child?" Minerva stared at him, and then at the young girl once more.

"Yes. I found her rather lonely in Knockturn Ally and thought it best to not leave her there."

"And you needed me to?"

"I don't think it'd be very comfortable for her if I were to help bath her tonight before I put her to bed." He turned his attention back to her wide eyes and handed her a fork from the table. "You can go ahead. Slowly though."

They watched as she pulled the watermelon closer to her, leaning forward and carefully taking a small bite. After tasting it, she began to take piece by piece and carefully chewed it.

"What is her name?" Minerva took a few steps closer, the girl pausing when she ate to assess her. Once more resembling an animal of some type or another. The professor sat down in the chair beside her and looked to Dumbledore.

"Don't know. She hasn't said a word, but I do believe she knows what she's being told. She responds properly. Isn't that so?"

The young girl paused and looked at him, then back to the woman before slowly nodding her head looking at the small bowl of soup beside McGonagall. The older woman watched where her eyes were, and then pointed to the soup, watching as she nodded her head again. Carefully, she picked it up and set it in front of the girl. The steam proved how warm it was, and she watched as the girl examined it with her spoon. Stirring it slowly. Without much time, the steam began to stop- much faster than natural. She looked up to Dumbledore, who also was watching the soup, a small smile spreading across his face.

"How old are you sweetheart?" Minerva asked the girl after she took a bite of her magically cooled soup. There was a pause before she lifted seven fingers in response. With a small smile, the professor urged a bit more. "Do you have a name too?" There was a pause before the girl looked down at her food and shook her head. "You don't have a name?" She shook her head again. The elder woman sighed, glancing at the headmaster with a small frown, "Do you have parents?" The response was silence. When the witch raised herself to her feet once more, she walked closer to stand beside Dumbledore.

"What do you plan to do with her once she's clean and attended to?"

"I will decide come morning." They stood and watched the young girl as she ate her food. She ate slowly and occasionally stopped to glance at them, checking to make sure it was acceptable for her to continue eating. The dark-haired professor walked a little closer to her and kneeled by where she sat, slowly taking her hand and watching the young one flinch away. She paused until the girl looked to her again and then wiped her hair away from her face.

"She needs medical attention. Those bruises on her collarbone could be the sign of something worse than you'd expect. She's abnormally small."

As if on cue the young girl set down her fork on the napkin beside her and then moved to stand up. Clumsily she steadied herself before putting whatever was left in a small pile onto the plate. Her hands gently lifted it, shocking the teacher and the headmaster as she then promptly walked three steps toward them before tripping. The two adults were quick to act, ready for it. Minerva flipped her wand toward the silverware and Dumbledore stopped the child's downward spiral, moving swiftly to lift her up and set her on her feet, glancing at the floating leftover and dirty plates.

"What were you doing?" The woman sighed, relieved she made it through the minor heart attack. She took a step forward toward the girl and Dumbledore only to stop when the young one flinched away from her and began to shake in silent fear, eyes tightly shut and waiting for some type of violent punishment.

Maybe that was when she worked her way into the woman's heart.

"Shh, hey. It's okay, we're not angry." Dumbledore let one of his hands rest on her arm, barely touching her as she opened a single eye to look at them both. "Why were you carrying the plates?"

For the first time, she spoke to him. But it wasn't verbally. By reaching out and pressing her hand to his own, her extremely small voice echoed quietly in the depths of his mind. 'Dishes to be done', it was such a distant message that he stared at her blankly for a second, half in shock. For a child to be able to project their ideas into someone like his head, no matter how weak the connection is... it was brilliant. Even some adult Wizards and Witches couldn't manage to do much with a verbal spell, much less without one. Yet, the idea that she thought it her duty to do the dishes proved that she had not grown in an environment where her own opinions had been taken into consideration, much less her safety and happiness. She was too mentally strong to be a normal child. Whatever childhood she had been given had obviously been ripped away rather violently.

"The dishes?" Dumbledore asked aloud, trying not to be phased and leaning down a bit so that he was eye level with her. Very slightly, as though unsure, she nodded her head. He let out a small but light chuckle, shaking his head. "You don't have to do them here. Okay? We will work. You can rest." She nodded her head once more.

"Albus?"

"She can project."

"Project?"

"Nonverbally."

"That's impossible."

"Just uncommon. Actually, I've never seen someone so young do it."

"Her flinching away—It's"

"She seems to understand everything we say." Gently cutting off the transfiguration professor from saying more, Dumbledore knelt to his smaller guest's level and put a hand against her cheek. Getting a general glance into her head. "She's quick and intelligent—much more intelligent than other kids her age. Her mind is faster than most adults. Did you know you are a brilliant child?" He asked her, smiling when she shook her head. "You are fantastic, darling. Now then. Minerva?"

The witch waved her wand, so the plates floated their way back on to the table and nodded her head.

"I think this child is in deep need of a bath, there is one ready in the added-on bathroom of the guest room. Could you please?"

"Of course." Minerva walked closer to the two, letting her arm out for the young girl. "You ready to get a little cleaned up sweetheart?"

Slowly, she let her arm out and took the lady's hand, looking up to Dumbledore who nodded to her in response. The two walked out of the room at a rather slow pace and toward the bathroom. Dumbledore walked over to his desk and stared at the lamp before turning to the window and checking the time. Noting that it was beginning to get late, he opened it for Fawks to fly in and perch himself, shaking his head and brushing his feathers with his beak.

"We have guests," He told the bird, not actually caring if it could understand him or not.

In the bathroom, Minerva slowly helped the young girl out of her dress and had to hold back a gasp, and soon a sob at the dry blood and scars that caked her body. The dirt that had been on her dress from slipping it over her head was doubled on her body, and her skin looked dark. she was starved, the curves of nearly every crevice of all 6 pairs of ribs could be seen.

The woman of the two put her fingers into the tub, checking the slowly cooling temperature before lifting the girl up and holding her above the water. Small green orbs stared at her wide-eyed and naked as she looked between the water and the woman. She was slowly lowered in- the only sound she made though was a whimper. Her eyes were closed tightly even when she was standing in the water on her own. Waiting for something even more painful.

"Sweetheart, It's okay. You can sit down in the water, it's safe." The girl slowly reacted with her eyes still tightly shut as she felt her way until she was sitting. The water and bubbles reached up to her shoulders and the water already turning a dark brown with dirt. The girl let out a second whimper.

Minerva was still so unsure on how to deal with the girl's fear of water or the pain the water was causing, but to do her best, she slipped off her own shirt, leaving her camisole on, and rolled her pants up high, slipping out of socks and shoes. Curious, but still mute, the younger's eyes watched her every move, even when she put her legs into the water and got her arms wet. The girl lifted a hand and touched some of the bubbles trying to flick them off when they stuck to her skin. The teacher couldn't help but cough a light laugh at the girl's scrunched face. Every motion she made though was slow, cautious. It was as if she was a rabbit cautious she might be hunted.

For another minute she sat and watched the girl make up her mind about the water. She shifted and would put her hands into it, and watch it drop off her own body. For a second she let her arm drop limply and make a rather small splash, jumping at the sound she made. She watched the ripples carefully as well when she shifted her legs or her body.

As a Transfiguration teacher, Minerva found the girl's surprise at sitting in the harmless water squeeze her heart. In her time as a teacher, she couldn't imagine a child that hadn't taken something as simple as a bath. To get her attention, the woman got her hand wet and lightly flicked it at the girl, who jumped when it hit her in the face. Her eyes turned to the hand that flicked it though. Then back up to the owner, bashful and surprised that she was still there. With one of the smallest of smiles, Minerva spoke quietly. "We've got to get you washed up. Can you turn around, so your back is facing me?" Without a response, the girl did as she was told. Minerva took a handful of water and ran it over the girl's shoulders, watching as they tensed, but not stopping. She transfigured one of the small bottles into a cup, filling it with water. "Close your eyes child." She said softly, before pouring the water over her head.

The hair split easily between the elder woman's fingers as she scrubbed into it, and she realized with a shock that the girl's hair was a light shade of brown rather than the muddy oily black that it appeared to be. Twice she re-cleansed the water, and still, dark colors mucked the clearing water. The girl had been efficient in not moving around and doing what she was told, with her finger she played with the bubbles and the water. Minerva had her scrub her feet and legs with a soft soapy cloth that also kept her occupied. The paleness of her skin was enough to rival a person who had spent most of their time inside, almost a blinding white when dirt was cleared. Yet bruises and scars though took up most of her body. From head to toe in varying degrees, there was hardly a spot not lightly marred in some way or another. Most had healed to a certain point, but even as they were washing one wound would open. When they did, the girl would tense, sometimes Minerva could hear a soft hiss leave her lips. Away from that, she was near silent.

When they finished after about forty minutes, Minerva had the girl stand up to do a final rinse. She did as told and began to shake at the cold air, suddenly looking at the woman with more and more fear in her eyes. "You're okay. I've got a towel here," taking the towel off the floor the woman wrapped it around the girl's body. Small lanky fingers wrapped around the edges and held it to her. When Minerva was able to stand up after swinging her legs from the tub she let her pants fall and lifted the girl out. A solid red covered much of her body from scrubbing and scabbed over scars, her feet by far some of the worst off regarding marring, they still looked a bit brown around her soles.

Lifting the girl into her arms, still covered with a towel, Minerva walked out toward the study. Dumbledore stood up when he heard them, his glasses on and looking the girl over with a small smile. He took a step toward them and let his hand touch her hair, even when she shrunk away from him. "It's such a light color."

"I think it's about time to put her into some other clothes and let her sleep." Dumbledore nodded in agreement and stood, walking and levitating his chest into the makeshift room he gave her. Minerva followed him in and set the young girl onto the bed. Looking into the chest, she grabbed another sleep shirt and helped the girl put it on. The girl's attention focused on the chest, and then on the dress itself. She played with the soft fabric below her fingers and stroked the edge of the bed, pressing down on the mattress and watching as it conformed around her hand. When she finished, Minerva glanced over to the headmaster as he still sat looking at some of the things in the chest.

"Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes, of course. I have this-" he lifted up a stuffed cat, "to keep her company it seems."

The little girl's eyes widened at the stuffed animal and she looked between them. It almost seemed like the excitement the way she gripped the edge of her dress and twisted it in her fingers. When Dumbledore walked over and sat beside her with it, he lifted it for her to see. She stared into the black buttoned eyes of the stuffed animal and touched it's paw as if it were about to break. Then she looked up to Minerva and reached her hand out. The elder woman lifted her hand for the girl to take, only to hear words in her head.

For me?

The woman, in shock, just nodded her head, but the girl's grip tightened a little more.

Thank you.

"Y-Your welcome."

Once more she reached out to Dumbledore who let her make contact. Thank you. Her voice echoed quietly as he gave it to her. She sat with it in her lap wide-eyed and let its paw lift and drop. With her teeth biting her lip lightly she squeezed it and experimented with what its ears could do and flipping its tail back and forth in amazement. The two adults let small smiles cross their faces and an ever-present tightness settled into their chests.

"Well then, Love, it's bedtime. So we can get you all tucked in." The girl nodded her head and held the cat to her chest, waiting. Dumbledore lifted her up and slid her to the top of the bed, wandlessly pushing the covers back as Minerva stood as well. He pulled the covers up to the girl's chin watching as her eyes followed his every move. Tucking the covers lightly into the mattress, he ran a soft hand through her hair. "When you wake up, you can come out. I'll probably be in the office- where you ate."

The girl innocently nodded her head.

"If you need anything in the middle of the night. No matter what, my room is next door. Okay?"

She nodded her head again, reaching her little hand out from the covers and touching his hand once more. Thank You. She let the corners of her lips shift up like his were, and he gave a light laugh. Leaning down and giving a light kiss on her forehead both he and Minerva walked out of the room. A single candle was lit on the chest, the light of it slowly lulled the 7-year-old into a dream on a cloud.

The adults, after leaving the door cracked made their way to the main office, and Minerva sat down on the chair across from Dumbledore. "While I'm not surprised by her muteness, the abuse she's suffered is extensive. That child shouldn't be able to speak at all, much less mentally."

"It seems like she's practically been trained not to speak out loud either."

"She hissed and whimpered when I was bathing her. I could only imagine the pain she felt. Some of her wounds were open and bleeding."

"Most orphans from the war had caring parents they lost. She may have been abandoned. Everything seems foreign to her here. But she's safe at the least."

Minerva looked at the door, thinking. "Are you going to take her to the Ministry? She needs medical attention, and she needs to be given a home."

"I haven't decided yet." Dumbledore sighed, taking a sip of the tea on his desk. "My largest fear is her being put into a system that cannot adequately assimilate to her needs. She's cautious, shy, and without a voice, she cannot defend herself."

"You said you found her in Knockturn Ally. She could be the daughter of a..." the words trailed off in fear of offense.

"A death eater?"

"Exactly. Who knows what mental illness could be passed on? The necessity in keeping a family pureblood amongst some of those monsters is unnerving."

Dumbledore considered the odds as well, huffing once more. "All the more reason for her to be held in capable hands."

The tone in his voice seemed to change, as did the light in his eyes. Minerva could see the idea planting itself in his head from a mile away. "No." She came up with the optimal response. "You cannot adopt her," She pressed "Albus, she's a child, and just having another death eater in the castle is-"

"Severus will not cause her harm."

"He makes first years cry!" the Transfiguration teacher coughed out. "Every year the children have this innate fear of him. He is dangerous. This school is often dangerous. Having a 7-year-old running around, unattended to-" She was cut off.

"Severus is very strict in his teachings, yes, but those are students. His past has little to nothing to do with the man he has yet to become. In this castle, she would not be unattended to. We have a staff of over twenty, house-elves, and I'm sure, at last resort, there's a seventh-year student or two that would be more than willing to help. We could give her education and accommodate her needs."

"What about housing? You-"

"She would stay with me of course,"

"And her primary education?"

"I would teach her, I'm sure Poppy would love someone to teach as well."

"You travel as well, as a Headmaster and as Chief Warlock of Wizengamont. What would you do with her while you leave? When you go across the country or travel to the Americas?"

"Not only do you forget that we have friends all around the wizarding world, but I could often take her with me. She's intelligent enough to understand things normal children her age would never be able to comprehend. She hosts some type of manners and responsibilities that are shocking. The way she tried to do the dishes is an estimate of her mental age."

"And more likely, child abuse. Dumbledore-"

"I will look into other options. But," he paused, "she might be just what this castle needs."

The teacher closed her eyes and nodded her head eventually, standing up once more. "I must head home. Please, send for me tomorrow when you've figured these things out. That child just needs a good place."

Quietly, the Teacher made her way out of the room, leaving Dumbledore to his own thoughts, and sporting a headache. he slipped off his glasses and set them on his desk, wiping his eyes with his fingers. Taking the two letters he wrote to the Ministry, he whistled for an owl out his window, tying the letters and letting the animal know where it was to go that evening. He watched it safely fly out of his sight before shutting up his office. Fawks was already asleep, his head buried in the ruffles of his wing.

The headmaster, on his way to his own bedroom, stopped at the doorway to the nameless girl's room, watching her curled up form and soft facial features. Her small bony hands gripped to the stuffed cat like a lifeline, but she seemed calm. Her hair sprawled across the bed, some falling over her eyes and he was brought back to an image of his own younger sister before her death. With a small, heartbroken smile, the old man closed his eyes and walked to the room next door, leaving the door cracked in case he was needed. Making his way to his bed he lay on his side deep in thought until the darkness of his room, and his mind overtook him.

A/N: Finally! A long chapter!

Part I of this Fanfiction is mostly foundation, and it'll take a while for us to get into it as we follow the characters on their journey forward, but trust me when I say- we'll get there. For more updates, don't forget to review!

Lots of love from MONA!