Flipped
Chapter Eight: The Fate of the Young
Disclaimer: I own none of Harry Potter or affiliates. These belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros. and a bunch of other people.
And, so, without further ado, on with the show.
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Ronald Weasley was, for possibly the longest period of his life, the center of attention. With all of about a year and a half of being always a few paces behind his older brothers, he was currently reveling in this newfound attention.
But below the surface, those adults around him could see sadness in the innocent child's eyes. Those cerulean blue eyes that held so much wonder when alight, and then so much pain, it seemed, at odd times, when the babe would go silent, and look for all the world like a lost orphan. And he was.
Those adults around him tried their best to keep the child entertained for his short duration at the school, but he still seemed distant. Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, with his charms professor, Filius Flitwick, sitting in front of him, the youngest Weasley bouncing on his knee.
Flitwick, in the few hours that Ronald had spent at Hogwarts, seemed the most successful at drawing the toddler's attention, and making him giggle. The Headmaster watched the scene with that slight tinkle in his eye, though his face was devoid of a smile of any kind. He watched the charms professor play games with the child, peek-a-boo, and got-your-neb, until the tot started to yawn, and began to fall asleep in the small professor's arms. Dumbledore was slightly amused.
"You seem to have a knack with the child, Filius," he said softly, as he watched the charms professor watching the baby.
The younger man blushed slightly. "I don't know, Albus. He's such a cute tyke."
Indeed, the child now looked like a fiery angle, his red locks almost covering his now angelic, albeit asleep, face. Dumbledore chuckled, and nodded.
"Yes, yes, Filius. That he is," he told the professor in front of him, eyes full of mirth.
"Dumbledore?" the charms professor began slowly. "I was wondering, I asked you a question this morning. What we were going to do with the boy." The younger professor now looked at his old teacher with a careful gaze, eyes betraying his nervousness.
Dumbledore, for his part, seemed to be enjoying his colleague's uncomfortable situation. "What, dear Professor, would you have me do with the child?" He gave a small, mysterious smile to the squirming man in front of him.
"Well, Albus. It seems to me, well." Filius seemed to want to ask an important question, and Dumbledore, being the slightly senile, horribly ruthless man he was, let the charms professor squirm for a little while longer.
"Well, see, my sister, dear woman, had a small cottage outside Winchester, away from muggles and wizards alike, very secluded, beautiful countryside, and I was wondering, since the boy has no other family that you can find, and he. well, as you said he has taken a liking to me. And I, well, I could help my sister on weekends, and during the holidays." Filius looked at the headmaster almost pleadingly.
Finally Dumbledore broke. He laughed outright, and stood. "Dear Filius, all you had to do was ask. I had wondered what to do with young Ronald here, until I saw how much he had taken a certain liking to you." The professor in front of him looked torn between relief and annoyance at the headmaster, but Dumbledore took no notice, and continued. "I would like to see the house, and put a few protective charms around the borders, but I believe, dear professor, that your idea is wonderful."
Relief took over on the small professor's face, and he thanked the headmaster profusely, before heading out with the still asleep young Ronald.
Dumbledore chuckled at the folly of the young, or younger than him, for a moment. The bond between the toddler and the charms professor was evident, and Dumbledore, for one, was glad that the child could bond with anyone right now. Young Ronald had been through a traumatic experience, and even though he was too young to remember it, it would still be better for him to be around one he could be comfortable with.
But with that thought, the headmaster's heart sank. This would not have happened had they not stumbled in their spells in some way. A family of eight had been destroyed; a family that he had come to love over the years. Molly and Arthur had been come of his favorite Gryffindors when they were at school, and he had kept in contact with them when they had graduated. The young couple had been loved by many in the wizarding world. Arthur, with his constant love for muggles, was a great asset for the ministry of magic. He was an aspiring assistant director of the Misuse of Muggle artifacts. Molly had had many friends throughout Britain, whom she had kept in close contact with after her school days.
The two boys who had attended Hogwarts, Bill and Charlie, were blessings as well. Charlie was a superb Quidditch player. He had made the House team when he was only in second year. Bill had been an excellent student, the top of all his classes. He loved ancient Runes, and both of the boys had been good friends with Hagrid, the gamekeeper at the school.
The Weasleys would be a sorely missed family in the British Wizarding World.
Dumbledore sighed. Their funeral was tomorrow. Half of Britain was supposed to come; those who missed the Weasleys, and those who wanted to see the famed 'Boy-who-lived', or so they were calling young Ronald now.
Voldemort, the darkest wizard that the world had yet known, was defeated by a year and a half year old boy, and the world was extremely curious to see what extraordinary powers this child had to posses. Some were telling anyone who would listen that the child hadn't really killed the Dark Lord, but sucked him into his soul. Still others were shouting that the child had used ancient magic taught to him by ghosts to kill He-who-must-not-be- named. The tale that Dumbledore himself didn't know how the young Weasley did it was particularly engaging to gossipers. So, while rumors were flying, Dumbledore was anxious to get Ronald to a home where he would not have to deal with the press and sightseers. The young child was traumatized enough. There was no need to add gawking people to stare at him.
And then there was the question of the child's abnormal scar. When they had pulled the boy out of the rubble, no one had noticed the small cut on the side of the boy's head, right next to his left eye. It was a small, jagged lightning bolt, and try and Madam Pomfrey might, she had not been able to make it heal so there wouldn't be any scar.
Dumbledore found the scar very interesting, and he explained to the quite putout nurse that perhaps it was for the better that the boy keep the scar. After all, he had told her, he himself had a very entertaining one on his knee that resembled the London Underground. Madam Pomfrey, although staring at the headmaster oddly, complied, and ceased attempting to magic the cut away, and juts put a gauze pad on the wound.
So, now the Headmaster of Hogwarts School stood in his office, looking out onto the grounds of his school, and wondering what was special about the boy. How had the child survived what Dumbledore was sure was the killing curse, for Madam Pomfrey had found traces of the darkest magic on the boy. It was a puzzle for another day, he told himself resolutely, as he moved away form the window. One he would have to spend many days trying to figure out, and even then he wasn't sure if they would ever know.
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"I am telling you all, right now, that Voldemort is gone, as of now. Whether he will return in the future, or we will never be tormented by his cruelty and malice again, I know not. When it came to Divination, as I say, I was always a great card player."
The men in the stuffy room chuckled gently before settling back into a curious silence. The Ministry of Magic, in the chaos that had ensued after the attack on the Burrow and Dumbledore's claim the Dark Lord that had plagued them for almost twelve years was finally gone, had called an emergency meeting of everyone that worked for the Ministry as of now. The crowd was a tattered one.
Twelve years of fighting demons, vampires, giants, and many other great beasts and evil things that followed Lord Voldemort had left the offices of the Ministry in a dismal count. Aurors were few and far between, standing out in their stark white robes against the blues of the Ministry uniform.
The Aurors that caught Dumbledore's eyes were some of the finest, whom he personally had worked with many times to solve any number of problems.
Alaster "Mad-Eye" Moody was one such man, with his scarred face and hands. He was a stout man, who was loyal to the ministry without any doubt; a wavering quality these days.
And James Potter, with his best friend and partner Sirius Black. Those were some of the last boys Dumbledore had expected to go into Auror training, but they had done well, especially with each other's aid, and had climbed the ranks of Aurors.
Another was Frank and Nancy Longbottom. They were a popular couple Auror team, and Dumbledore was always pleased to see them work together.
Another face that struck him in particular was Bartimus Crouch, the current Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement. In Dumbledore's opinion, he was a radical, who, while ridding the world of Death Eaters, was also allowing his Aurors privileges of the Unforgivable curses, and punishments with out trials. Not all the Aurors performed these acts, but most of them took advantage when they had to. Even the few that the headmaster admired had sent possibly innocent people into the hands of Dementors.
Other faces sprung out at him from the crowd, as past students of his or those he knew from past dealings with the ministry.
Most of the people here had been shocked to hear that the supposed Dark Lord was gone. But one could hardly deny it. Over the past two days people had been swarming into the ministry office, claiming they had been under the Imperius curse, being used as puppets by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. These were people that had been wanted by the ministry for years, suddenly running to the Aurors that had hunted them and begging for help.
There was no other way that the Ministry could explain it. This, along with Dumbledore's insistence that He-who-must-not-be-named was indeed gone, gave hope to the ministry officials gathered at the meeting.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Mr. Crouch said taking the front of the room to explain how they were going to take back these people who had claimed to be 'set free' at the death of the lord.
The meeting adjourned a few hours later, the officials in the building smiling and cheering for the first time in years. They had to go and spread the word to the world. The Dark Lord was dead. The world was safe.
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Three days after the attack on the Burrow, after the world had settled down and the controversy of the famous Boy-who-survived was slightly calmer than before, three wizards made their way to a remote house on the outskirts of the small British town of Winchester.
A very tall, ancient, yet powerful looking old man, a short, but still aged man, and a small toddler, in the short man's arms, looking around wondrously at the beauty of the nature around him, made their way to a small, secluded house, overlooking a lively patch of woods.
The two elder wizards walked up to the house, and the aged one knocked slightly.
A woman opened the door, revealing an old, but comfortable looking house behind her. The woman herself looked about middle age, with only a few grey strands in her long brunette hair that fell about her face, covering her ears, that revealed her true age. She was of normal height for a woman her age, and Dumbledore, smiling softly, wondered if she was really Filius' sister. She wore a simple muggle dress, with a soft floral pattern. She smiled upon seeing her visitors, and opened the door further.
"Filius! How are you? I assume this is Ronald?" She smiled down at the toddler in the shorter man's arms, and the young redhead grinned back. "Do come in, Albus, Filius." She motioned for them to follow and led the way out of the small entry hall and into the sitting room.
The house itself was small, and had an underlying floral touch to it all. But the woman made do with her cramped quarters by adding comfy looking furniture that had a pattern of flowers and vines all over it hear and there, a multitude of picture frames, the occupants of which were waving and smiling at the visitors. There was one tea table in front of the small couch, and an end table in the corner, each adorned with small costars and flowery tea doilies. There was a bookshelf in another corner that seemed to overflow with hundreds of titles. Some seemed to be like normal every day books, like Gardening: the Ease, or History, at your fingertips, but others on the shelf would have baffled the mind. They had titles like The Cultivating of Khanoba Sea Tulips, and Cornate Fighting Flowers. At any rate, anyone who passed through this house would be able to tell the woman obviously loved flowers and all things in the garden.
The two men, however, did not seem disturbed by this at all. In fact, both seemed comforted by it somewhat. Both smiled at the woman, and sat in the floral sofa.
"So," she began, smiling calmly. "This is Ronald? He's such a dear!" She grinned at the boy, and he stared back for a fleeting moment, and then smiled, a childish giggle emitting from his lips. He blew a raspberry at the woman, producing a gracious laugh from her. He struggled against small Filius for a moment, and the aged professor let him down gently to the floral carpeted floor.
Ron walked, waddled really, as he was only eighteen months, towards the woman, smiling gleefully. She opened her arms to the boy, kneeling to be at his general eye level, and when he at last made the great trek between the sofa and where she stood he toppled into her arms, producing a round of giggles form everyone present in the room.
"Well, that was certainly entertaining," Filius stated, smiling broadly, once everyone had settled down and had a cup of tea, young Ron playing with a stuffed slug on the woman's lap, muttering to himself in baby talk. "Albus Dumbledore," Filius said, looking at the older man, "meet my sister, Reyena. Reyena, please meet Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
"Pleasure, sir," she smiled at the aged wizard, and continued playing with Ron on the floor, trying to entertain him with putting her hands in front of her face and suddenly moving them, to startle the tot in front of her. Ron, for his part, was vastly amused, sending shrieks of laughter to the rooftops.
Dumbledore smiled at the two, and then at Filius. Somehow, he thought, this child would have a happy home. But he set out to do what he came to do anyway, assume most of the answers to his questions already.
"Tell, me, my dear," he said softly, watching Reyena with twinkling orbs, "why do you want to invite this child into your home? Are you not happy with your life at it is? Surely, a child will only hinder your life?"
She didn't answer the wizard immediately, but continued to give the child on the floor reason to shriek with laughter. When Ron was calmer, she turned to the Headmaster.
"You know, Headmaster, it is a funny thing, life. I myself am not capable of having children. And though I may not look it, I am far older than you are. I am what your society calls an Elf." She swept her long hair back to show her ears, pointed as they were.
Albus Dumbledore looked outright stunned for a moment, and then laughed outright, a smile crawling back to his aged face.
"My dear, I should have guessed." He smiled at her graciously. "Only an Elf could pull off such poise and beauty as you do." The Elf before them looked startled for a moment, before smiling.
"Thank you Albus," she gave him a piercing gaze for a moment, and the wizard before her seemed to sense for the first time her incredible depth of age and wisdom.
But the moment passes, as Reyena turned back to Ron, who had since been occupying himself with inspecting the rug on the hardwood floor. The two seemed to become fast friends, and both wizards that observed the two seemed inexplicably drawn together.
"So, Reyena, if you were to take Ronald in, what would you explain to him?" Dumbledore looked at her quizzically. "What would you have him know about his tragic past, and what would you keep from him?"
Once again, Reyena paused before answering, this time seeming to contemplate the question.
"I believe I would explain to him his being a wizard now, and that he was once part of a great family. I knew the Weasleys, vaguely, from some of the Ministry balls. Very nice people." She smiled sadly at the two men in front of her. "Tragedy, it really was. But the people wont see it as that." She looked down at Ron again.
"The majority of the public will read and hear and talk about the boy-who- survived. They will remember him only for defeating a powerful and fearful Dark wizard. Lord knows how, but this little boy did it. Britain's wizards will not understand that he is also a child, who won't remember it. I believe it would be best to explain his popularity in the wizarding world when he is older, more able to handle that fame, however well deserved. It also might help to curb big-headedness," she said with a small grin.
Dumbledore beamed at her, the twinkle in his eye growing more prominent. "I could not agree more, Reyena. Your majestic wisdom is infallible."
The Elf blushed, and turned once again back to Ron, who was talking to his stuffed toy now.
Filius, silent for most of this interesting meeting, stared at his sister for a moment. Of course, the woman was not his full-blooded sister. The two of them couldn't look any different. Reyena's mother had been an Elf, and a beautiful one, or so he had been told. She had fallen in love with Filius' father, Barius, a half-Elf- his father had been an Elf, and his mother a witch. But the beautiful Elf woman had died giving birth to her daughter, and Filius' father had been heartbroken, with the care until he had met Filius' mother, a few thousand years later. It seemed that while the blood of a wizard had never graced Barius' veins, but lay dormant for him to pass on to his next child. Filius had been the son of a half-Elf and a hobbit, a small creature, about four feet tall. The result of their love was a short man, with pointy, Elf-like ears, and semi-immortal blood running in his veins next to wizard's blood.
It was a situation that would most likely never happen again, and Filius was content to remain the only half-hobbit, quarter-Elf, and quarter-human person walking the very large planet. And add a half-sister who was a few thousand year old three-quarter Elf and Filius was sure he possibly had the most complicated family tree in history.
But they had been happy, his sister and him, when they could spend time together. In the century that Filius had lived, he had gotten to know the woman greatly, and they shared the bond that all brothers and sisters shared: love. And Filius was then not surprised when he saw immediately that his half-sister had fallen in love with the child in front of them.
His reverie was broken however, when Albus suddenly stood from the couch.
"Thank you both," he started, smiling serenely down at Reyena, still playing with Ron, while watching the headmaster out of the corner of her eye, and Filius, who was sitting on the couch contently, his short legs dangling over the edge of the couch so much like a child's it took the headmaster a great deal of control not to burst into laughter. He held it in, though, barely.
"Thank you, Albus," Reyena said, standing up to smile at the headmaster. She turned and picked up the redhead from the floor, and held him close.
"Dumbledee help!" Ron cried, smiling gleefully at the headmaster and Reyena. The trio laughed at that, and Dumbledore started out the door.
"You two will be good for the boy," the old man told them, as Reyena, with Ron on her hip, and Filius followed to see him out. "I hope, with your help, he will become a normal boy of his age."
Dumbledore turned before walking out into the sunshine.
"Thank you both, for taking on this momentous challenge. I will remember it always. And if ever you need help, of any kind," he added with a glance to Reyena, "you know where to ask of it." He made to leave, taking his wand out to apparently apparate to outside Hogwarts grounds, but he paused, just before his wand went down over his head. "Oh, and Filius?" he turned and asked, giving the stout professor an amused gaze.
"Yes, Albus?" the charms master asked curiously.
"I will see you on September the first, will I not?"
"Yes Headmaster, I wouldn't miss it," the wizard squeaked out with a grin, and with the old headmaster popped out of existence.
"Come on in Fili," Reyena said, and headed back to the small house. She set Ron down in the entryway, and began to show him around the house, explaining to him where everything was and what everything did as she went along. The young boy looked fascinated.
Filius, watching them walk away, wondered for a moment what he had gotten himself into, but he shook his small head, laughed, and followed the young boy that would become an icon to the Wizarding World; a boy that would spend the next few weeks wandering around the house, forlorn one minute, giggling the next; a boy that, Filius guessed, would, undoubtedly, have quite an unusual future.
But it would be thrilling to witness firsthand.
TBC.
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Well? What did you all think of Reyena?
I am going to try and make everything as original as possible, but please keep in mind that from here on out EVERYONE will be *very * OOC. And please don't kill me for it.
Or maybe you should, cuz it would mean you're reviewing. Oh well. give me your two cents if you feel I deserve them.
And trust me, I am broke in the bank of reviews, I could use a good two cents.
Okay, shutting up..
Thanks!!
Leanne: THANK YOU!!! The first reviewer since chapter 5, I was beginning to loose faith.. It meant tons!!!
Tootles all!!
Chapter Eight: The Fate of the Young
Disclaimer: I own none of Harry Potter or affiliates. These belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros. and a bunch of other people.
And, so, without further ado, on with the show.
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Ronald Weasley was, for possibly the longest period of his life, the center of attention. With all of about a year and a half of being always a few paces behind his older brothers, he was currently reveling in this newfound attention.
But below the surface, those adults around him could see sadness in the innocent child's eyes. Those cerulean blue eyes that held so much wonder when alight, and then so much pain, it seemed, at odd times, when the babe would go silent, and look for all the world like a lost orphan. And he was.
Those adults around him tried their best to keep the child entertained for his short duration at the school, but he still seemed distant. Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, with his charms professor, Filius Flitwick, sitting in front of him, the youngest Weasley bouncing on his knee.
Flitwick, in the few hours that Ronald had spent at Hogwarts, seemed the most successful at drawing the toddler's attention, and making him giggle. The Headmaster watched the scene with that slight tinkle in his eye, though his face was devoid of a smile of any kind. He watched the charms professor play games with the child, peek-a-boo, and got-your-neb, until the tot started to yawn, and began to fall asleep in the small professor's arms. Dumbledore was slightly amused.
"You seem to have a knack with the child, Filius," he said softly, as he watched the charms professor watching the baby.
The younger man blushed slightly. "I don't know, Albus. He's such a cute tyke."
Indeed, the child now looked like a fiery angle, his red locks almost covering his now angelic, albeit asleep, face. Dumbledore chuckled, and nodded.
"Yes, yes, Filius. That he is," he told the professor in front of him, eyes full of mirth.
"Dumbledore?" the charms professor began slowly. "I was wondering, I asked you a question this morning. What we were going to do with the boy." The younger professor now looked at his old teacher with a careful gaze, eyes betraying his nervousness.
Dumbledore, for his part, seemed to be enjoying his colleague's uncomfortable situation. "What, dear Professor, would you have me do with the child?" He gave a small, mysterious smile to the squirming man in front of him.
"Well, Albus. It seems to me, well." Filius seemed to want to ask an important question, and Dumbledore, being the slightly senile, horribly ruthless man he was, let the charms professor squirm for a little while longer.
"Well, see, my sister, dear woman, had a small cottage outside Winchester, away from muggles and wizards alike, very secluded, beautiful countryside, and I was wondering, since the boy has no other family that you can find, and he. well, as you said he has taken a liking to me. And I, well, I could help my sister on weekends, and during the holidays." Filius looked at the headmaster almost pleadingly.
Finally Dumbledore broke. He laughed outright, and stood. "Dear Filius, all you had to do was ask. I had wondered what to do with young Ronald here, until I saw how much he had taken a certain liking to you." The professor in front of him looked torn between relief and annoyance at the headmaster, but Dumbledore took no notice, and continued. "I would like to see the house, and put a few protective charms around the borders, but I believe, dear professor, that your idea is wonderful."
Relief took over on the small professor's face, and he thanked the headmaster profusely, before heading out with the still asleep young Ronald.
Dumbledore chuckled at the folly of the young, or younger than him, for a moment. The bond between the toddler and the charms professor was evident, and Dumbledore, for one, was glad that the child could bond with anyone right now. Young Ronald had been through a traumatic experience, and even though he was too young to remember it, it would still be better for him to be around one he could be comfortable with.
But with that thought, the headmaster's heart sank. This would not have happened had they not stumbled in their spells in some way. A family of eight had been destroyed; a family that he had come to love over the years. Molly and Arthur had been come of his favorite Gryffindors when they were at school, and he had kept in contact with them when they had graduated. The young couple had been loved by many in the wizarding world. Arthur, with his constant love for muggles, was a great asset for the ministry of magic. He was an aspiring assistant director of the Misuse of Muggle artifacts. Molly had had many friends throughout Britain, whom she had kept in close contact with after her school days.
The two boys who had attended Hogwarts, Bill and Charlie, were blessings as well. Charlie was a superb Quidditch player. He had made the House team when he was only in second year. Bill had been an excellent student, the top of all his classes. He loved ancient Runes, and both of the boys had been good friends with Hagrid, the gamekeeper at the school.
The Weasleys would be a sorely missed family in the British Wizarding World.
Dumbledore sighed. Their funeral was tomorrow. Half of Britain was supposed to come; those who missed the Weasleys, and those who wanted to see the famed 'Boy-who-lived', or so they were calling young Ronald now.
Voldemort, the darkest wizard that the world had yet known, was defeated by a year and a half year old boy, and the world was extremely curious to see what extraordinary powers this child had to posses. Some were telling anyone who would listen that the child hadn't really killed the Dark Lord, but sucked him into his soul. Still others were shouting that the child had used ancient magic taught to him by ghosts to kill He-who-must-not-be- named. The tale that Dumbledore himself didn't know how the young Weasley did it was particularly engaging to gossipers. So, while rumors were flying, Dumbledore was anxious to get Ronald to a home where he would not have to deal with the press and sightseers. The young child was traumatized enough. There was no need to add gawking people to stare at him.
And then there was the question of the child's abnormal scar. When they had pulled the boy out of the rubble, no one had noticed the small cut on the side of the boy's head, right next to his left eye. It was a small, jagged lightning bolt, and try and Madam Pomfrey might, she had not been able to make it heal so there wouldn't be any scar.
Dumbledore found the scar very interesting, and he explained to the quite putout nurse that perhaps it was for the better that the boy keep the scar. After all, he had told her, he himself had a very entertaining one on his knee that resembled the London Underground. Madam Pomfrey, although staring at the headmaster oddly, complied, and ceased attempting to magic the cut away, and juts put a gauze pad on the wound.
So, now the Headmaster of Hogwarts School stood in his office, looking out onto the grounds of his school, and wondering what was special about the boy. How had the child survived what Dumbledore was sure was the killing curse, for Madam Pomfrey had found traces of the darkest magic on the boy. It was a puzzle for another day, he told himself resolutely, as he moved away form the window. One he would have to spend many days trying to figure out, and even then he wasn't sure if they would ever know.
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"I am telling you all, right now, that Voldemort is gone, as of now. Whether he will return in the future, or we will never be tormented by his cruelty and malice again, I know not. When it came to Divination, as I say, I was always a great card player."
The men in the stuffy room chuckled gently before settling back into a curious silence. The Ministry of Magic, in the chaos that had ensued after the attack on the Burrow and Dumbledore's claim the Dark Lord that had plagued them for almost twelve years was finally gone, had called an emergency meeting of everyone that worked for the Ministry as of now. The crowd was a tattered one.
Twelve years of fighting demons, vampires, giants, and many other great beasts and evil things that followed Lord Voldemort had left the offices of the Ministry in a dismal count. Aurors were few and far between, standing out in their stark white robes against the blues of the Ministry uniform.
The Aurors that caught Dumbledore's eyes were some of the finest, whom he personally had worked with many times to solve any number of problems.
Alaster "Mad-Eye" Moody was one such man, with his scarred face and hands. He was a stout man, who was loyal to the ministry without any doubt; a wavering quality these days.
And James Potter, with his best friend and partner Sirius Black. Those were some of the last boys Dumbledore had expected to go into Auror training, but they had done well, especially with each other's aid, and had climbed the ranks of Aurors.
Another was Frank and Nancy Longbottom. They were a popular couple Auror team, and Dumbledore was always pleased to see them work together.
Another face that struck him in particular was Bartimus Crouch, the current Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement. In Dumbledore's opinion, he was a radical, who, while ridding the world of Death Eaters, was also allowing his Aurors privileges of the Unforgivable curses, and punishments with out trials. Not all the Aurors performed these acts, but most of them took advantage when they had to. Even the few that the headmaster admired had sent possibly innocent people into the hands of Dementors.
Other faces sprung out at him from the crowd, as past students of his or those he knew from past dealings with the ministry.
Most of the people here had been shocked to hear that the supposed Dark Lord was gone. But one could hardly deny it. Over the past two days people had been swarming into the ministry office, claiming they had been under the Imperius curse, being used as puppets by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. These were people that had been wanted by the ministry for years, suddenly running to the Aurors that had hunted them and begging for help.
There was no other way that the Ministry could explain it. This, along with Dumbledore's insistence that He-who-must-not-be-named was indeed gone, gave hope to the ministry officials gathered at the meeting.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Mr. Crouch said taking the front of the room to explain how they were going to take back these people who had claimed to be 'set free' at the death of the lord.
The meeting adjourned a few hours later, the officials in the building smiling and cheering for the first time in years. They had to go and spread the word to the world. The Dark Lord was dead. The world was safe.
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Three days after the attack on the Burrow, after the world had settled down and the controversy of the famous Boy-who-survived was slightly calmer than before, three wizards made their way to a remote house on the outskirts of the small British town of Winchester.
A very tall, ancient, yet powerful looking old man, a short, but still aged man, and a small toddler, in the short man's arms, looking around wondrously at the beauty of the nature around him, made their way to a small, secluded house, overlooking a lively patch of woods.
The two elder wizards walked up to the house, and the aged one knocked slightly.
A woman opened the door, revealing an old, but comfortable looking house behind her. The woman herself looked about middle age, with only a few grey strands in her long brunette hair that fell about her face, covering her ears, that revealed her true age. She was of normal height for a woman her age, and Dumbledore, smiling softly, wondered if she was really Filius' sister. She wore a simple muggle dress, with a soft floral pattern. She smiled upon seeing her visitors, and opened the door further.
"Filius! How are you? I assume this is Ronald?" She smiled down at the toddler in the shorter man's arms, and the young redhead grinned back. "Do come in, Albus, Filius." She motioned for them to follow and led the way out of the small entry hall and into the sitting room.
The house itself was small, and had an underlying floral touch to it all. But the woman made do with her cramped quarters by adding comfy looking furniture that had a pattern of flowers and vines all over it hear and there, a multitude of picture frames, the occupants of which were waving and smiling at the visitors. There was one tea table in front of the small couch, and an end table in the corner, each adorned with small costars and flowery tea doilies. There was a bookshelf in another corner that seemed to overflow with hundreds of titles. Some seemed to be like normal every day books, like Gardening: the Ease, or History, at your fingertips, but others on the shelf would have baffled the mind. They had titles like The Cultivating of Khanoba Sea Tulips, and Cornate Fighting Flowers. At any rate, anyone who passed through this house would be able to tell the woman obviously loved flowers and all things in the garden.
The two men, however, did not seem disturbed by this at all. In fact, both seemed comforted by it somewhat. Both smiled at the woman, and sat in the floral sofa.
"So," she began, smiling calmly. "This is Ronald? He's such a dear!" She grinned at the boy, and he stared back for a fleeting moment, and then smiled, a childish giggle emitting from his lips. He blew a raspberry at the woman, producing a gracious laugh from her. He struggled against small Filius for a moment, and the aged professor let him down gently to the floral carpeted floor.
Ron walked, waddled really, as he was only eighteen months, towards the woman, smiling gleefully. She opened her arms to the boy, kneeling to be at his general eye level, and when he at last made the great trek between the sofa and where she stood he toppled into her arms, producing a round of giggles form everyone present in the room.
"Well, that was certainly entertaining," Filius stated, smiling broadly, once everyone had settled down and had a cup of tea, young Ron playing with a stuffed slug on the woman's lap, muttering to himself in baby talk. "Albus Dumbledore," Filius said, looking at the older man, "meet my sister, Reyena. Reyena, please meet Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
"Pleasure, sir," she smiled at the aged wizard, and continued playing with Ron on the floor, trying to entertain him with putting her hands in front of her face and suddenly moving them, to startle the tot in front of her. Ron, for his part, was vastly amused, sending shrieks of laughter to the rooftops.
Dumbledore smiled at the two, and then at Filius. Somehow, he thought, this child would have a happy home. But he set out to do what he came to do anyway, assume most of the answers to his questions already.
"Tell, me, my dear," he said softly, watching Reyena with twinkling orbs, "why do you want to invite this child into your home? Are you not happy with your life at it is? Surely, a child will only hinder your life?"
She didn't answer the wizard immediately, but continued to give the child on the floor reason to shriek with laughter. When Ron was calmer, she turned to the Headmaster.
"You know, Headmaster, it is a funny thing, life. I myself am not capable of having children. And though I may not look it, I am far older than you are. I am what your society calls an Elf." She swept her long hair back to show her ears, pointed as they were.
Albus Dumbledore looked outright stunned for a moment, and then laughed outright, a smile crawling back to his aged face.
"My dear, I should have guessed." He smiled at her graciously. "Only an Elf could pull off such poise and beauty as you do." The Elf before them looked startled for a moment, before smiling.
"Thank you Albus," she gave him a piercing gaze for a moment, and the wizard before her seemed to sense for the first time her incredible depth of age and wisdom.
But the moment passes, as Reyena turned back to Ron, who had since been occupying himself with inspecting the rug on the hardwood floor. The two seemed to become fast friends, and both wizards that observed the two seemed inexplicably drawn together.
"So, Reyena, if you were to take Ronald in, what would you explain to him?" Dumbledore looked at her quizzically. "What would you have him know about his tragic past, and what would you keep from him?"
Once again, Reyena paused before answering, this time seeming to contemplate the question.
"I believe I would explain to him his being a wizard now, and that he was once part of a great family. I knew the Weasleys, vaguely, from some of the Ministry balls. Very nice people." She smiled sadly at the two men in front of her. "Tragedy, it really was. But the people wont see it as that." She looked down at Ron again.
"The majority of the public will read and hear and talk about the boy-who- survived. They will remember him only for defeating a powerful and fearful Dark wizard. Lord knows how, but this little boy did it. Britain's wizards will not understand that he is also a child, who won't remember it. I believe it would be best to explain his popularity in the wizarding world when he is older, more able to handle that fame, however well deserved. It also might help to curb big-headedness," she said with a small grin.
Dumbledore beamed at her, the twinkle in his eye growing more prominent. "I could not agree more, Reyena. Your majestic wisdom is infallible."
The Elf blushed, and turned once again back to Ron, who was talking to his stuffed toy now.
Filius, silent for most of this interesting meeting, stared at his sister for a moment. Of course, the woman was not his full-blooded sister. The two of them couldn't look any different. Reyena's mother had been an Elf, and a beautiful one, or so he had been told. She had fallen in love with Filius' father, Barius, a half-Elf- his father had been an Elf, and his mother a witch. But the beautiful Elf woman had died giving birth to her daughter, and Filius' father had been heartbroken, with the care until he had met Filius' mother, a few thousand years later. It seemed that while the blood of a wizard had never graced Barius' veins, but lay dormant for him to pass on to his next child. Filius had been the son of a half-Elf and a hobbit, a small creature, about four feet tall. The result of their love was a short man, with pointy, Elf-like ears, and semi-immortal blood running in his veins next to wizard's blood.
It was a situation that would most likely never happen again, and Filius was content to remain the only half-hobbit, quarter-Elf, and quarter-human person walking the very large planet. And add a half-sister who was a few thousand year old three-quarter Elf and Filius was sure he possibly had the most complicated family tree in history.
But they had been happy, his sister and him, when they could spend time together. In the century that Filius had lived, he had gotten to know the woman greatly, and they shared the bond that all brothers and sisters shared: love. And Filius was then not surprised when he saw immediately that his half-sister had fallen in love with the child in front of them.
His reverie was broken however, when Albus suddenly stood from the couch.
"Thank you both," he started, smiling serenely down at Reyena, still playing with Ron, while watching the headmaster out of the corner of her eye, and Filius, who was sitting on the couch contently, his short legs dangling over the edge of the couch so much like a child's it took the headmaster a great deal of control not to burst into laughter. He held it in, though, barely.
"Thank you, Albus," Reyena said, standing up to smile at the headmaster. She turned and picked up the redhead from the floor, and held him close.
"Dumbledee help!" Ron cried, smiling gleefully at the headmaster and Reyena. The trio laughed at that, and Dumbledore started out the door.
"You two will be good for the boy," the old man told them, as Reyena, with Ron on her hip, and Filius followed to see him out. "I hope, with your help, he will become a normal boy of his age."
Dumbledore turned before walking out into the sunshine.
"Thank you both, for taking on this momentous challenge. I will remember it always. And if ever you need help, of any kind," he added with a glance to Reyena, "you know where to ask of it." He made to leave, taking his wand out to apparently apparate to outside Hogwarts grounds, but he paused, just before his wand went down over his head. "Oh, and Filius?" he turned and asked, giving the stout professor an amused gaze.
"Yes, Albus?" the charms master asked curiously.
"I will see you on September the first, will I not?"
"Yes Headmaster, I wouldn't miss it," the wizard squeaked out with a grin, and with the old headmaster popped out of existence.
"Come on in Fili," Reyena said, and headed back to the small house. She set Ron down in the entryway, and began to show him around the house, explaining to him where everything was and what everything did as she went along. The young boy looked fascinated.
Filius, watching them walk away, wondered for a moment what he had gotten himself into, but he shook his small head, laughed, and followed the young boy that would become an icon to the Wizarding World; a boy that would spend the next few weeks wandering around the house, forlorn one minute, giggling the next; a boy that, Filius guessed, would, undoubtedly, have quite an unusual future.
But it would be thrilling to witness firsthand.
TBC.
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Well? What did you all think of Reyena?
I am going to try and make everything as original as possible, but please keep in mind that from here on out EVERYONE will be *very * OOC. And please don't kill me for it.
Or maybe you should, cuz it would mean you're reviewing. Oh well. give me your two cents if you feel I deserve them.
And trust me, I am broke in the bank of reviews, I could use a good two cents.
Okay, shutting up..
Thanks!!
Leanne: THANK YOU!!! The first reviewer since chapter 5, I was beginning to loose faith.. It meant tons!!!
Tootles all!!