Melody Foxx stared down at the heavy parchment in her hand.
A real, live, Hogwarts letter, with her name on it.
She had lost hope that she'd ever see one, having recently turned thirteen.
A bit of a late bloomer, Melody hadn't showed any magical ability until just this past Christmas. One of the younger children at Wool's Orphanage had lit the pitiful tree on fire, in their own bout of accidental magic, Melody dragged the five-year-old out of the way, inexplicably turning the flames into a burst of snow.
The matron, Ms. Birdie, hadn't even been upset at having the north pole in her foyer, so long as everyone was safe. She'd beamed proudly at Melody.
"I knew you weren't a Squib!" Ms. Birdie had declared. She'd written to Dumbledore that very night, imploring him to allow Melody to attend a real school. She did her best to supply Melody with learning materials, allowing her to rifle through the donated wands, helping her select a nice whippy holly wand that emitted a golden glow. She helped Melody with some simple spells, trying to remember a first-year education that was thirty years behind her.
Through a series of letters, Ms. Birdie was able to convince Dumbledore to come and meet Melody for himself.
Melody remembered feeling like her stomach was full of hopping chocolate frogs when the day came for the big visit. Ms. Birdie brushed her hair and plaited it for her, helping her recite everything she knew about magic.
Melody had forgotten every word the moment the headmaster stepped through the door.
Dumbledore had her demonstrate her meager spells, never batting an eye when she stumbled over her pronunciations. After what felt like a marathon, he had Melody sit down as Ms. Birdie poured everybody tea.
"So, Melody," he said softly, eyes twinkling, "You want to come learn at my school?"
Melody nodded. "Very much so, sir."
"There's a lot of catching up to do," Dumbledore warned her, "You're very far behind your peers, and I have no desire to stuff you in a class with younger students. Can you work hard?"
"To study magic? Yes."
Dumbledore smiled kindly.
"Then you will have a home at Hogwarts. However," he said, turning to Ms. Birdie, "Agnes, you don't have time to help Melody and run the orphanage. It's simply too much. In order for Melody to be successful, I'd like you to find a foster family for Melody to live with, so she can do the things she needs to do, and so that you can do the things that you need to do. It would most likely be beneficial to find someone with a child the same age as Melody, so she has a guide."
Ms. Birdie and Melody glanced at each other. It was an unexpected request, and thus not something they had talked about.
"Yes," Ms. Birdie said, "Of course, Albus."
There was a tapping at the window.
"Ah," Dumbledore said, "Right on time."
Melody squinted in confusion as Dumbledore rose to let the owl in.
"This is Jynx," he introduced the pygmy owl, "And he is a gift for you, to get in contact with your teachers and start your learning straightaway. No time like the present, as they say."
He let the owl hop over to Melody, who patted its tiny head with her index finger. She made a mental note to read up on owl care as Jynx held out the letter with emerald green writing on the front, and a hefty seal on the back.
After Dumbledore had left, Ms. Birdie locked Melody and herself in her study to work on their respective assignments.
Along with her acceptance letter, Dumbledore had attached a supply list, and a second list, of the faculty at Hogwarts and each subject they taught. Melody began drafting introduction letters, requesting some work she could perform at home, hoping for real spells, but knowing that it would probably mostly be theory and reading until she actually got to school.
Ms. Birdie started sorting through her files, looking for a foster home. Ideally, she could finally get Melody adopted, but she would work through details with individual candidates.
A woman on a mission, nothing could deter her from finding a family.
Ms. Birdie worked chronologically backwards, started with the most recent applicants that, for whatever reason, were unable to adopt. She could revisit and see if they were now in a position to foster. She sent owl after owl, gauging interest, asking for adoption but settling for fostering.
Still, the weeks wore by without a reply. Melody continued her studies, writing her teachers back and forth, asking Ms. Birdie whenever she really couldn't figure something out.
Finally, in late May, Ms. Birdie found a dusty adoption application that had fallen behind her filing cabinet. It was nearly ten years old, and she instantly felt bad for letting it slip through the literal cracks. She sat down to drink her tea while she reviewed it.
Opening the cheap manila folder, Ms. Birdie sprayed tea across the page when she saw the name on the application. She quickly pulled Melody's file and spread it next to the manila folder. Melody checked all the boxes. Little girl, check; agreeable disposition, check; known magical ability, check, and so on down the list. There was just one thing. "Known parental lineage" was checked on the application, and on Melody's file, Ms. Birdie had listed the parents that she had been told, but she had posted a note on it that read, unconfirmed- reported by neighbor that facilitated dropoff, no proof.
It was a stupid box, and when Ms. Birdie had taken over for Mrs. Cole in '83, she'd revised the form and eliminated it. Still, going by the family name on the top of the paper, Ms. Birdie knew that it was a non-negotiable.
Chewing her lip, she tapped her wand to Melody's file, erasing her note. She might not have proof that the middle-age lady that had brought Melody in was telling the truth, but she didn't have any indications that she was lying, either. Now there was no record that there was ever a question. If this got Melody a family, Agnes would take it to her grave.
Shaking off the guilt of falsifying a record, she penned a letter to Narcissa Malfoy, asking for an in-person meeting.
She sat on pins and needles the next three days until she finally got a reply. She took the letter from the owl and rushed to her study, locking the door behind her. Fanning herself in the stuffy room, she forced herself to sit at her desk before she ripped the letter from the envelope.
It was an invitation to tea, that afternoon. Agnes felt her heart jump into her throat. So quickly! She had to prepare!
That evening, Melody looked up from Hogwarts: A History to see Ms. Birdie shooing the other children out of the dormitory. She was wearing her fanciest clothes, and had a grin plastered from ear to ear.
Melody's heart skipped.
"Melodeee," Ms. Birdie sang, "I have good news!"
Melody set her book to the side and sat up straight. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she'd never seen Ms. Birdie so elated.
"I've found you a foster home!"
Melody felt a rush of relief. She had been trying to get started in her studies, but the littler kids kept interrupting and it was impossible to focus.
"Really?" She asked, jumping up and hugging the matron.
"Yes, darling, you're going to Hogwarts!"
The next few days were a whirlwind. Ms. Birdie arranged everything, from the tea and biscuits to the clothes that Melody was to wear. Melody shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the initial visit, reciting in her head the litany of manners that Ms. Birdie had gone over with her that morning.
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy arrived exactly on time, Mr. Malfoy's cane clacking up the front steps to the orphanage. Once Ms. Birdie had them situated in the parlor, she excused herself to fetch Melody.
Mr. Malfoy stopped her before she could leave the room.
"Let's just be clear, Agnes, we'll sponsor the girl, allow her room and board at the manor, but adoption is strictly off the table," his eyes narrowed, "So don't be getting her hopes up, hmm?"
Ms. Birdie's lips formed a silent 'o' as she glanced at Mrs. Malfoy. That hadn't been the plan outlined by the letter she'd been sent, nor the impression she'd gotten at tea with Mrs. Malfoy. The sophisticated witch gave Ms. Birdie a barely perceptible nod. What was she playing at? Still, at least Melody would get her education, and Ms. Birdie hoped that the Malfoys would welcome her as a guest, if not a new family member.
"Yes, sir," she said, already thinking about how to tell Melody. She'd prepared Melody for a family; she should have known it could fall through. Ms. Birdie kicked herself for getting the girl's hopes up.
"Melody," she hissed, crooking a finger to drag Melody away from her books, "I have to tell you something," she confessed.
Melody looked up at her with those big, innocent, green eyes. Ms. Birdie braced herself.
"I've just been told," she started, "And don't worry, you're still getting to go to Hogwarts, but they don't…want…to adopt…you. I'm sorry, darling."
"They don't? Why not?" Melody asked, startled as her expectations came crashing down.
"I'm not sure, darling, but let's go and make a good impression, and I want you to be polite, all the same, because they are still going to allow you to live with them." Ms. Birdie ushered Melody down the stairs. She could feel the disappointment rolling off of the girl, and who could blame her? She plastered a smile on her face, pointing to the corners of her mouth to indicate the Melody should do the same. The girl dutifully smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
The meeting went uneventfully; Mr. Malfoy seemed to be resigned to the fact that his wife had signed him up for sponsorship, and Mrs. Malfoy was so soft-spoken that Ms. Birdie had to strain to hear her. It was more arrangement of logistics than anything else. To her credit, Melody sat politely through the grown-ups speaking as though she weren't there. She sipped her tea daintily and crossed her legs at the ankles, like a lady.
After the Malfoys had left, Ms. Birdie sat down with Melody.
"I know you just had tea, but…" she summoned some hot cocoa from the kitchen. Staring down into the velvety drink, Melody began to cry. Ms. Birdie tutted, patting the girl gently on the back.
"It's not fair, is it?" she said, letting her own frustrations peek through, "And you know what?"
Melody shook her head.
"I could have decked that man."
Melody snorted out a giggle. Ms. Birdie gave her a warm squeeze around the shoulders.
"It'll be alright, Melody. You won't even see them most of the year, anyway. Hogwarts will be your home."
