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Prologue the Fifth
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Scotland, 1 September 1991
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"I have long feared that the sins of my past would return to haunt me, and that the cost would be more than I can bear."
"Surely you jest, Headmaster."
Albus Dumbledore turned away from the window where he'd been watching the most recent class of first years cross the lake and faced the man who stood in the shadows of his office. "No, on this matter I do not jest. In fact, I feel quite strongly that my actions -- or rather, the lack thereof -- have caused and may to continue to cause irreparable harm."
"You are speaking of young Mr. Potter, I take it."
"No," he shook his head. "Although I do admit that he and everything surrounding what happened in Godric's Hollow weighs on me quite heavily. No, I speak of another."
A frown. "Not Malfoy."
"Hawkeforte," the Headmaster elaborated.
"Hawkeforte?" came the astonished reply. "There have been no Hawkefortes in Hogwarts, much less the Magical world, in decades Headmaster. Not since … "
Dumbledore sighed. "The death of Julianna Marvolo."
"I'd assumed they died off, as have so many others this century. Between Grindelwald and Voldemort, most of England's old Magical families have been destroyed or simply stagnated from within."
"No, the Hawkefortes still live," Dumbledore said softly. "Unfortunately there are very few remaining and of those few only one has shown anything more than a trace of magic … and she's arriving as we speak."
"She?"
The Headmaster chuckled slightly at the sharp look his companion bestowed upon him. "Yes, she," he replied. "A Daughter of the Blood, though she knows nothing of it. Don't look so pensive Severus, you know the tales as well as I. Your mother was a Loom, after all."
Severus Snape frowned. "She knows nothing?"
"She knows her mother is a Hawkeforte," Dumbledore replied. "Indeed, she carries the name herself though she has never used it; her mother's doing, I expect. As to the rest," he shrugged. "There was no one to tell her. Eustacia died while she was an infant and her grandmother -- Isabelle Videaux, by the by -- died years before that. Benedict's heir, Robert, was killed in the Falklands during that conflict the Muggles had and Benedict himself followed not five years later. I understand Peter inherited the title and most of the property, aside from what was specifically willed to Katherine and her daughter."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Surely her mother knows something."
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Bits and pieces, Severus, but not enough. Isabelle kept a great deal from her eldest children when it became clear they had an insufficient level of magical ability, and she kept Eustacia away as well. No small feat, that, though she paid heavily for it in the end."
"I remember hearing of her death," Snape replied. "Nothing detailed, however, which surprised my mother at the time considering how important Mlle Videaux was during the war with Grindelwald."
"It was … she died in a Muggle automobile accident with her youngest daughter, Caroline, who had returned home from her first year at Beauxbatons."
Snape raised an eyebrow.
Albus Dumbledore seemed to deflate for a moment and Snape wondered what had happened to cause the older wizard such grief. The Hawkefortes were as Slytherin as they came, perhaps even more so than others, but it was rare for them to openly betray their cunning. For the nearly unflappable wizard to despair …
"Eustacia arranged the accident."
Ah.
"So many times, Severus," he murmured. "I've always wondered if I could have altered what has happened if I had said or done something I had not, or kept my counsel rather than speak out … "
"It is unlike you, Headmaster, to dwell on things long past."
"Perhaps, Severus, perhaps," Dumbledore countered. "But Eustacia always had a way of, how do the Muggles put it? Ah, yes, getting under my skin." And my heart, he thought sadly.
"Still -- "
"It is no longer relevant. I called you here to inform you of her arrival -- and no, Severus, I will not tell you her name."
Snape's mouth closed abruptly and he narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster. "And may I inquire, Headmaster, why that is? Hawkefortes *do* tend to sort into Slytherin and I will no doubt discern her identity rather quickly, as I can already anticipate which of the first years will be joining my house."
Dumbledore smiled. "She will not be joining Slytherin House."
"You know her so well, Headmaster?" The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable and to his chagrin the older wizard simply continued to smile. "Then tell me, will this Hawkeforte prodigy defy family tradition and turn Hufflepuff?"
"Oh, I've no clue as to which House she'll Sort into," he replied. "Lemon sherbet?"
Narrowed obsidian eyes met twinkling blue in a battle of wills and were forced to concede defeat after only a few short moments. There were completely understandable reasons why Albus Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared, Snape thought. Those damned merry blue eyes were enough to make any sane witch or wizard run far in the hope of escaping the sugar coated happiness that lurked within. Well, that and the steely determination. All or nothing, ramrod straight or broken -- but never bending. Snape snorted inwardly. Gryffindors.
"Albus," he entreated wearily.
"Oh, I simply had a little talk with the Hat," Dumbledore twinkled.
Sheer disbelief. "You *hexed* the Sorting Hat?"
"Of course not," he soothed. "We simply had a chat and came to an understanding. Given our current state, Severus, I sincerely believe it unwise for a Hawkeforte, any Hawkeforte, but especially for a -- shall we say, unenlightened -- Hawkeforte Daughter to enter Slytherin House."
A hush settled over the room as Severus Snape sighed. "I know, Albus, I know. Still, it's frustrating to watch perfectly acceptable young minds go elsewhere while Slytherin is left with the dregs of the old families. Oh, yes, there are still a few who give me reason to hope; Antony Zabini's younger sister is amongst this crop of first years and I have few doubts that she'll follow her brother and mother into Slytherin, but the rest … " He shook his head. "Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Bulstrode, Malfoy … "
"Severus … "
Snape lifted his eyes to the unwavering gaze of the Headmaster.
"Just guide them, Severus. Try to lead them away from the path of their parents, away from the path Voldemort set for them years ago. Your best for them, Severus, is all I ask."
He nodded. "If that's all, Headmaster … "
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore waved a hand. "I'll be down in a moment."
Blue eyes watched as the younger wizard disappeared down the spiral stair before returning to their previous vigil at the window. Dumbledore smiled as he watched the children milling about at the base of the stairs and his smile grew wider as he picked out a particularly familiar set of heads -- one black, one red, one brown and one blond. We shall see, he thought. What will we make of you? What will you make of yourselves?
I hope you are stronger than your great-grandmother, Hermione Hawkeforte-Granger, I do so hope …
END PROLOGUE