Disclaimer: Same old thing…I don't own anything and am making no money for this so please don't sue me!
Note: As this is a sequel, I REALLY urge you to read 'The Severus He Saved' first…it's a really good story, if I say so myself. And it you do go read it…review!
Evening had fallen over Hogwarts and Hedwig was feeling fresh and awake after sleeping for a good portion of the day. After saying hello to a few fellow birds, she stretched her wings and moved over to the window of the Owlery.
Far below on the ground she could see a single figure approach the castle from the direction of Hogsmeade. Had Hedwig been some nearly blind creature, she wouldn't have been able to tell much about the stranger on the Hogwarts grounds.
But as she was proudly an owl, Hedwig could see perfectly. Could count the stitches in the woman's, for it was indeed a woman, clothing if she so desired.
It was a tall woman with cold, light brown eyes that Hedwig saw. Her gray hair, which must have been brown once, given the still faint streaks, was neatly braided along the sides of her head before joining in the back and twisting into a neat, full bun at the nape of her neck. She was dressed richly in a scarlet robe that was shot through with copper and silver thread. Hanging by a copper chain around her neck was a pair of small oval glasses. In all, not very interesting to Hedwig.
Hedwig fluffed her feathers and dove out of the window. What little curiosity she had for the event did not have power over her hunger. It was time to go find her meal and she left the strange woman at the front door without another thought as to why she was there in the first place.
***
Sabra craned her head back to look at the banners that fluttered idly in the wind high above the rest of the Hogwarts castle. At her feet was her bag, neatly packed with what she would need until she could get her House Elves to send over the rest her things. From inside the castle she could hear the laughter and chatter of students as they went to their evening meal.
It had been a long time since Sabra had last stepped foot inside Hogwarts and even longer since she was there as a first year Ravenclaw, but the powerful school had not changed.
Sabra shook her head and, gathering up her long robes, made her way up the stone steps. The school remained the commanding presence it had always been since the four founders first gathered with the intention of teaching young witches and wizards how to master and control the talent they had been gifted with at their birth.
Through the centuries, only the faces and names inside the castle changed as one generation of students gave way to the next and the professors retired to allow others to take their place.
But Sabra was not here today to reminisce about fond school memories. She had a much different agenda.
She didn't *want* to be here, gathering information on either of them. For Merlin's sake, she had known Albus most of her life.
*
Even before their children were of marriageable age, many of the old families that still believed adamantly in arranged marriages would begin looking among other pure-blood families for good prospects for their sons and daughters.
Sabra's parents wanted their only daughter to marry well, but were good people and had every intention of choosing a compatible mate her. For that, Sabra was thankful. She had seen schoolmates forced to marry their friends of their fathers just to keep money among the families.
When Sabra's parents began to look in earnest for a husband for her, Albus had only been 24, two years Sabra's senior, and already well known for his unusually strong magical ability and deeper understanding of human behavior.
He was also at this time, the most sought after by all the old wealthy families looking to marry closer into the prestigious Dumbledore family.
There were countless families with young girls that called on the elder Dumbledores, hoping to impress them or possibly Albus himself. Sabra's parents couldn't help but be among them.
But the young wizard that the small internal war was being started over was equally polite to each family and gave none of them an edge that they might use when speaking with his parents. Indeed, it was rare that he could be found when his parents were called on.
Sabra had been sick with nervousness when her parents had taken her with them for their first meeting with the Dumbledores to discuss a match between her and their son.
Sabra could remember it so well.
*Flash Back*
Sabra fidgeted nervously and looked again at the door her parents had disappeared through about 37 minutes before, leaving her to wait for their return.
Sabra sighed again and stood up, her royal purple robe with scarlet roses embroidered around the hem falling elegantly about her. Pacing the floor came to mind, but she settled instead to look at the small pile of books on the table in the sitting room.
Sabra had just begun to pursue the titles when a door opened. Startled, she quickly dropped the book she had been looking at back onto the table and clasped her hands behind her back. The last thing she wanted was to be accused of snooping in this house.
The person who entered the room was a young man about her age and was carrying a gangly looking boy of about four or five. They were both dressed very nicely in wine colored robes, though the younger boy's was speckled with bright purple dragons.
The young man looked from Sabra to the books and smiled, his clear blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "Looking for something to read, Miss?" he asked brightly, putting Sabra oddly at ease.
The boy in his arms, his son, Sabra assumed, given the similarities in their features, stuck two fingers in his mouth and starred at her with large gray eyes.
Sabra shook her head and smiled politely. "I was merely admiring the selection," she answered.
The boy had now turned his attention back to his father and was trying to pull his father's auburn hair from its neat ponytail. The child's own strawberry blond hair was sticking in several directions.
The father saw Sabra looking at the child, laughed, and then tried to smooth out the wild hair. "He just woke up," he explained to Sabra with a grin. Then, "If you are looking for something to read, there is a much larger selection in the library."
Sabra's eyes gleamed with an odd hunger at the word 'library' but she managed to keep her composure. "Thank you," she said, "But I am not familiar with this house and do not know how to get there."
The man hefted the child in his arms to a more comfortable position. "I was just on my way there," he admitted, "I would be happy to show you the way."
Sabra paused a minute and thought what her parents would say if they came back and found her missing. But she had been left without anything to occupy her time and the thought of a library full of books was too tempting to resist.
She quickly decided to go to the library, get a book, and come back with it before anyone could miss her. "All right," she agreed, "But I can't stay there long."
The young wizard nodded, a simple, accepting gesture. "Of course," he agreed pleasantly. "Follow me."
It Sabra hadn't been sure that they young wizard was a gentleman in both standing and form, she would have been more concerned to follow him blindly through the halls of the large house. As it was, she was careful to watch which way she was being lead in case she should have need to get back on her own.
But that did not stop her from admiring the Dumbledore mansion. All the tall windows were thrown open to let in air and the soft sunlight gave everything a simple, peaceful feel. Fresh flowers from the garden were on every tabletop available and books and family paintings were the most common decoration.
"Here we are." Sabra looked up quickly from her admiration. Her guide had put the young boy down and was opening a pair of double doors etched in gold leaf.
Sabra stepped through the doors and her mouth dropped open in wonder. Everywhere that there was not a window was a bookcase leading to the ceiling high over head and literally overflowing with books. Not since Hogwarts had she seen so many books in one place.
"This library started centuries ago," her guide was saying, though it barely registered in Sabra's brain. "Over the years members of the family have added books and scrolls that they have acquired to the collection."
Sabra turned a full circle to see all the shelves piled with books. "So many," she said a bit breathlessly, "Have you read many of them?"
"Yes," came the reply, a bit distracted. He had moved over to a bookcase, gone up a few rungs of the ladder there, and was searching for a book among those there. Then he looked up and smiled at Sabra. "I've read at least half the library."
Sabra returned the smile, very impressed. Anyone who enjoyed reading was alright with her. "You must spend a lot of time here," she commented off hand, already sure she could spend her whole life in a library like this and die happy.
"I did as a child," the young wizard answered, dropping back to the floor with a book in his hand, "But since I graduated school, I have devoted my time to study other than that which can be found in these books. I leave again tonight." He shook his head sadly and picked up the child that had wandered over and had been tugging at his clothes. "I fear this one will forget me in my absence."
The little boy smiled cherub-like and reached to pull the glasses from the older wizard's face. "Never, Aly," the child said with a grin.
"Aly?" Sabra asked, putting a book back on the shelf. She had yet to figure out the organization system of the books. They weren't alphabetized, that much was sure.
"Aly is his name for me," Sabra was told. The child's father ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "One of those dreadful nicknames that only one this age is allowed to use."
Sabra nodded in understanding. Her cousin had called her 'Sabbie' for years, much to Sabra's dread and embarrassment. Her cousin still called her that when he particularly wanted to get on her nerves.
"He's actually usually a lot more talkative," the man said, indicating the child, who was now, to Sabra's horror, gnawing on a book. "He's just a little shy around people he doesn't know."
Sabra was relieved when the wizard pried the book from the boy and handed him a long piece of licorice to bite on instead. "You went to Hogwarts?" she asked.
Her guide nodded, the stands of hair that the child had tugged out of the ponytail earlier now curling around to frame his face. "Yes, almost seven years ago. Gryffindor."
"I was in Ravenclaw myself," Sabra said proudly. Her father and mother had both been Ravenclaw and were very pleased that all their children had been sorted into that house.
The young wizard smiled knowingly at Sabra's proclamation of house. "Yes, I know," he said, flipping through a book in his hands.
Then, as Sabra pondered his reply, he shut the book and took a seat on the arm of a plush scarlet armchair. "Forgive me if I sound rude," he said, "But why are you here?"
Sabra sighed and closed the book she had been looking at. She rather liked to not think about why she was here. "It's not any of your business," she answered bit shortly, "But I don't mind answering."
She took a breath and sighed, shook her head, and then looked up to meet the curious blue eyes. "Why do any young girls come here? My parents are hoping to wed me to the Dumbledores' oldest son. They are here right now discussing that every issue. Of course," Sabra smiled bitterly, "I've left out in the hall and the young Princeling is absent altogether why our parents talk."
Her guide smiled brightly. "Yes, that's the way it usually goes," he said. Sabra frowned at him. She was not happy about the whole thing, and that only seemed to amuse the wizard.
Then he got up and tucked two books he had set aside under his arm. "Have you chosen a book?" he asked.
Sabra nodded and held up the one she had picked out. Talking about the fact that her parents were going to marry her off and dulled her desire to talk and she only wanted to go back to that room and wait for her parents to fetch her.
Her guide glanced at the book and shook his head. "You'll never finish that here," he pointed out.
Sabra began to put it back but he stopped her with an upraised hand. "Please," he said, "Feel free to take it home and return it when you have finished reading it."
Sabra wondered idly if he had the authority in the household to lend out a book, but agreed readily. Her parents had a strict limit on her reading material. They believed that it was good for a young girl to be educated, but filling her head with too much information was not acceptable in society.
"Ready to go back then?" she was asked. Sabra nodded and gave her guide a small smile. "Yes," she replied, "Thank you." The distraction from real life had been nice, now it was time to return.
They said little to each other on their way back to the sitting room, something Sabra appreciated. She had just resumed her seat and was opening the book she had chosen when a small house elf dressed in an outfit made from an old gray silk curtain came running though the door.
"Master Albus," it squeaked, a bit breathlessly, "We's been looking everywhere for you!"
Sabra watched in shock and horror as her guide smiled at the small House Elf. "I'm sorry Vinny, I'll be there in a moment," he said. Then he turned slowly to look back a Sabra.
Sabra just gaped at him, her mind pushing her to say something, anything, but no words formed.
Albus gave her a low, mocking bow and then took his brother's small hand. "Good day," he said and before Sabra could sputter out a response, he was gone.
When Sabra's parents had come to collect her, they informed her that the interview with the Dumbledores had gone surprisingly well. They believed that she had a good chance.
Sabra had given them a small smile and hollowly expressed her gratitude. And that well of guilt in her stomach churned like a stormy sea.
After all her parents had done to try and get her the best match possible for a witch her age, she had ruined it all. Everything her mother had coached her to say if she ever met Albus, everything she had been told to do, she had lost her only chance in one foolish moment when she left her guard down.
Sabra had hoped that she would never have to face anyone in that family again. It was too embarrassing to even think about. Then, to horror, she and her parents were invited back to that house for tea.
Sabra, carefully dressed in lilac, almost died when she and her parents entered the tearoom and Albus himself was seated next to his parents. She could barely eke out her greetings as Albus's blue eyes laughed at her distress.
Sabra desperately wanted to say something to him. Either apologize for her behavior or defend herself, she was not sure. Anyway to redeem herself. As it was, she did not have the chance or courage to speak to him until the visit was almost over.
The adults had gone over to the piano to listen to Sabra's mother play when Sabra saw Albus fall behind. Gathering her nerve, Sabra went over to him, the book he had lent her in hand. "Thank you for letting me borrow this," she said as evenly as she could.
Albus took the book from her and smirked. "Not at all," he replied. "What else are Princlings for, if not to lend out books to bored young ladies?"
Sabra colored in anger and embarrassment. "Did that amuse you?" she asked, all pretense of friendliness gone.
Albus just smiled. "Yes," he answered, "I was quite amused." He paused thoughtfully for a moment, and then elaborated. "It is not often young ladies of what society calls 'good breeding' are avid readers. I have seen small children in sweets shops less excited than you were to find a library of that magnitude."
Sabra flushed at the truth of it and looked down at her hands. "I know I read too much-" But to her surprise, Albus cut her off.
"It is no shame to pursue knowledge," he said kindly, "It is when one gives up leaning or believes that there is nothing left to be taught to them that life looses meaning." Sabra stared at him, unsure, but suspecting that he had just given her a complement.
Albus grinned at her and then looked back to where their parents had gathered. "Shall we?" he asked.
Sabra nodded, took the arm he offered her, and joined the adults at the piano.
In the following months it became apparent that the Dumbledores were seriously considering Sabra and she saw a lot of Albus and his family. She quickly learned that the young wizard indulged his little brother's strangeness and was quite protective of him. Albus also had a rather odd attachment to sweets both Muggle and Magical. But above all, it was Albus's passion for learning and knowledge that Sabra admired the most.
Sabra's parents were thrilled to see Albus and their daughter getting along and used any excuse they could think of to suggest to the elder Dumbledores that Albus should visit Sabra. And any time they saw the young Dumbledore at any function, public or private, with any young lady on his arm other than Sabra, they went wild with worry.
But Sabra refused to become jealous. If he'd rather see someone else, she declared to her friends, let him. She couldn't care one way or the other.
Then, after not hearing from him for nearly a month, Sabra saw Albus at a mutual friend's party. She promptly ignored his presence until she saw him go out to the balcony alone.
Curiosity demanding, Sabra calmly made her way outside. She wasn't following him; she was just going to get some air.
Outside, Sabra saw that Albus was leaning against the railing, his head thrown back as he stared up at the dark night sky. "What are you doing out here?" Sabra asked, moving to stand beside him and crossing her arms lightly over her chest.
"Counting constellations," Albus replied, not taking his eyes from the looming heavens. Then he straightened and smiled. "Or hiding from Delia, your choice."
Sabra laughed softly, already feeling better. "And why would you be hiding from Miss Black?" She couldn't keep the teasing lit out of her voice.
Albus winced at his date's name and rolled his eyes. "If I hear her discuss the clothing value of one more couple, I fear I shall have to commit myself to St. Mungo's."
Sabra shook her head, not bothering to hide her smile. She and Delia had been in the same year at Hogwarts and she could still remember the headaches the other girl's voice gave. "Then why, in Merlin's name, did you bring her?"
Albus sighed and leaned back against the rail. "Same reason you're here tonight with Thomas Chen," he answered honestly, "One of your parents decided who you would be attending with and nothing short of near death could get you out of it."
Sabra nodded and joined him in leaning against the rail. "You're right," she said after a moment, "That's exactly how it goes."
Albus shook his head. "I'm never going to do this to my children," he muttered under his breath.
Sabra looked up in surprise. "Oh, already thought about that have you?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.
Albus nodded with firm resolution. "Yes, it's hell, excuse my language, to put anyone though this game of matchmaking. It's like being paraded around at a show and then sold to the highest bidder." Then he smiled at Sabra. "I've even already picked out a name for the first born," he said, completely changing the subject, "Severus, whether it is a boy a girl."
"Severus?" Sabra repeated, glad that the conversation had changed from the legitimacy of arranged marriages.
Albus nodded happily. "Yes, it's a lovely name."
Sabra wrinkled her nose slightly and shook her head. Lovely or not, it sounded like one of those names one had to grow into before it fit. "I haven't seen you in awhile," Sabra said, knowing it was her turn to change the subject.
"Yes," Albus said, folding his arms across his chest, "I've been in France for the last three weeks."
"Oh?" Sabra said, quickly running the names a French Purebloods through her head. "Why were you there?"
Albus looked at her a moment, his blue eyes intense, as if he were trying to read her mind. Then he grinned. "Swimming the English Channel," he said brightly. Sabra looked incredulous, unsure whether to laugh or believe him. She settled for giving him an uncertain smile.
Sabra opened her mouth to ask another question when a high-pitched female voice called out, "Oh there you are, Albus!"
Sabra and Albus turned to see Miss Black coming towards them, her layered pink robes succeeding in only making her look ridicules.
Delia was beaming when she came out onto the balcony, but when she saw Sabra standing next to the tall auburn haired wizard, her smiled faltered for a second and a wickedly jealous spark darkened her hazel eyes. "I've been looking for you everywhere," she said to Albus as she took his arm. Then, coolly, "Hello Sabra."
Sabra only smiled with a collected calm that only served to further agitate her competitor, "Hello Delia," she replied. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"
Delia clung tighter to Albus, making him wince as her long nails sank into his arm. "Charming," Delia replied through clenched teeth.
Sabra returned to the rest of the party in high spirits. Maybe she hadn't accompanied Albus this evening, but Merlin's Beard, he liked her better than the girl he had brought.
Five months later during one morning breakfast, Sabra's father had looked up from his tea and announced that Sabra was to marry Albus Dumbledore in three months time.
Sabra's mother had been ecstatic and left the table without finishing to go contact everyone she knew to brag about the wonderful match that had been made for her daughter.
Sabra herself wasn't sure how she felt about the fact that she was soon to be married, but she was terribly proud of the fact that the Dumbledores had chosen her out of all the other young women.
The wedding itself had been elegant and beautiful. Everything had been perfect, from the food to the weather. The day went by in a whirl of color and sound and then before Sabra could catch her breath, she and Albus were married.
They had made a lovely pair. Both intelligent and devoted to work and study, their temperaments complemented each other well. It was Albus who encouraged Sabra to peruse her personal studies and eventually secure a job within the Ministry after she found that above all she loved research.
And for a long time they were happy.
But after the first few years, people began to expect children from the couple, as was only natural; a child to carry on the family name or the bloodline.
Sabra's family history held few still births and young deaths, but the years passed one after the other and Sabra conceived no children. Bitterly she realized that she would have been happier if she miscarried a child for it would at least have proven that she could carry one.
But no.
And then that odd boy that had been spoiled from day one, Aberforth, ran away from home at sixteen, without finishing school, to marry a German Muggle born witch who's only dowry was her family's goat farm.
This, to no ones' surprise, did not bother Aberforth in the least and he became quite attached to the animals to an obsessive degree.
His marriage might have alienated him from his family if not for one thing. Within the year, that witch, Aberforth's wife, gave birth to twin boys, Casper and Marius.
Sabra knew that she should be happy at the births of the twins. Now producing a child to carry on the Dumbledore family line did not depend on her.
But it hurt her personal pride that the Muggle born had accomplished what she, a pure-blood from one of the oldest families in Europe, had failed to do.
Albus never said anything about the lack of children in their home, never blamed her in the least, but Sabra knew that it hurt him to work everyday with children and never have one of his own.
Sabra for herself, felt guilty for being unable to fulfill that greatest part of her duty to him and took countless potions and charms in hopes of conceiving his child.
But nothing worked. Finally, they both realized that a child was just not in their future and settled into a routine of life that did not include a room for one.
And then, Albus's wished for Severus had come and everything had changed.
*end flashback*
Sabra shook her head sharply. Reminiscing over the past was distracting her from her task. The first thing to do was find Albus, let him know that she was there. Then she could branch off her investigation from there. Putting on a calm facade, she made her way through the halls towards the Headmaster's quarters.
The walk there was an eternity and an instant together, both stretching on forever indifferently and over in an instant. And Sabra didn't know which that she'd rather it be.
All too soon, but not soon enough, Sabra was at the entrance to the Headmaster's tower. The password that Minister Fudge had given her was still good and the gargoyle moved aside to allow her access to the stairs leading up to the office above. But at the door she paused.
It had been so long since she'd seen either of them. She had not had ample time to prepare herself. And the child, what would he be like now? He was only two when she left. But that couldn't be helped now. She was not one to look back on her actions or decisions with regret.
Smoothing her hair and summoning all of her cool pride, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When it opened, Sabra entered calmly.
The Headmaster was seated at his desk, surrounded by random papers. He looked older than Sabra remembered. She had heard that his hair had lost its red color after Severus's death, but she had never been able to picture it. Yet, for all the aging they had both seen, his eyes were still as strong as steady as ever, clear and crystal blue.
Dumbledore looked up as Sabra entered the office and his smile died as his face went deadly pale. Slowly, as if caught in a trance, he got to his feet.
"Sabra."
TBC
Author's Note: Yes, I am sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter out. I blame it on the fact that I wrote a chapter 2, hated it, deleted it, and started over.
Second Note: I know this chapter was mostly about Sabra, but that was only to flush out her character for further chapters. I do not intend to focus completely on her.
FINAL NOTE: I've been asked a few times about a mailing list. If you would like to be put on a mailing list so that I can let you know when I've updated, let me know.
~Jazz
