In the past the talking paintings would have sent me gaping away. The centaurs had readied me for anything. Well, almost anything. I expected the professors to use their magic wands that were poking from their pockets to get us to the kitchens. Instead we walked down a hallway to a painting of a fruit bowl. I thought, at first, that it was some sort of a joke but then Minerva tickled the pear. It squirmed and finally let out a high pitched giggle and became a doorknob.
Amazed I stood staring at the doorway until the old man gave me a gentle push through the door. In the kitchen were twenty or so little… creatures. They were sort of cute, I suppose. They had large floppy ears and enormous eyes that made me feel like I had been wrong to wish for smaller eyes all my life. People had always said that I looked like a begging puppy. Well, these little people looked like their eyes were bulging out of their sockets. Their noses were also bulbous but they were always smiling.
"House-elves." The old man explained calmly.
I nodded, though it was my first time hearing of them.
"Miffle, Pookie, Snarfy, could we get some dinner for this girl please?" Minerva asked. Three house-elves came over and bowed happy to comply. They scurried off and arrived moments later with a respective feast.
"Is there perhaps a table down here that we could use?" The man asked politely.
"Yes, Professor Headmaster Dumbledore, sir." A house-elf bowed eagerly. "Right this way, sir. Follow me, sir." And the house-elf showed us to a small table with many small chairs. "But the chairs may be too small." The house-elf's ears drooped slightly.
"No problem," said Professor Dumbledore. "We can use an engorgement charm. But you will have your chairs back to normal once we're done. Please, can you bring Favian's food to the table?"
"Yes Headmaster." The food was brought to the table and set in front of my seat. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and mumbled something along the lines of "engorgio" and the table and chairs became twice their regular size.
"Take a seat, Favian." Dumbledore pulled a chair out for me and waited until I sat to take another chair. Minerva McGonagall took a seat next to him and watched me closely. I was ravenous and consumed much of my meal without stopping. I didn't recognize my drink; it was very sweet and refreshing though. It was a light yellowish color. I hoped it wasn't pee of some magical animal. Because I didn't want to know, I didn't ask.
"Thank you." I said gratefully, once I had eaten enough.
Professor Dumbledore waved his hand. "Think nothing of it. Now, you have a story to share. I cannot imagine that it is easy but we, Professor McGonagall and myself, need to understand what has happened to you in order to help."
I nodded. I drew a deep shuddering breath and told them my tale. I felt dead as I told them again about my parents, but I needed to feel dead in order to keep my tears at bay. Professor Dumbledore's light blue gaze never left mine. He looked sympathetic as did Professor McGonagall. I appreciated their concern.
"Favian," Professor Dumbledore said softly, "I'm going to ask you to do something that will be very difficult for you but I think might help in your new world." I watched him intently. "You can never go back to America. Everyone you've ever known will think that you are dead. Instead you are going to stay in the wizarding world to be trained as a witch."
I didn't respond vocally, but bobbed my head.
"Normally," Professor McGonagall said, "had you been trained right off the bat you would be in your fifth year now but you know nothing of witchcraft and are a beginner. Fifth year is a difficult time because of O.W.L.s and we couldn't ask you to try and catch up to their level yet."
"Not yet, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore laid a hand on her arm. "The last thing she needs right now is more to worry about. I'm about to dish out more, so let's forget about school for now."
"What do you mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall looked skeptically at him.
"The Order of the Phoenix, of course."
"Albus! You… you think it wise to bring her into this?"
"I think there is no other choice, Minerva. She is muggle-born and will have no preconception of Voldemort," McGonagall shivered, "Sirius or Peter. And where else would you have her stay? It would immerse her immediately and thoroughly into her new world."
"I suppose you are right." McGonagall frowned. "Ms. Granger is already there, is she not?"
"Indeed."
"She could help Favian start to learn the motions of being a witch." McGonagall turned back to me. "How did you do in the muggle schools?"
I was uncomfortable with that question. "Okay." Which was a lie, I did excellently in school, which was another reason that people made fun of me. Teacher's pet, nerd, geek. Ninth grade had been my best year, which was why I had been so angry at Dad for moving. People were actually being nice to me and three boys had asked me on a date. Three! At least I had apologized to my father. I didn't need to feel guilty. But I felt loss.
"Just okay?" Dumbledore smiled. "What was your average?"
"This year it was 99.1%." I admitted, blushing furiously. My parents had been so pleased that they had bought me a laptop computer.
"I think you'll do fine." Dumbledore winked. "If we get her to number 12 Grimmauld Place tonight Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley would be able to start informing her on the situation. Is Mr. Potter there yet?"
"I believe so." Professor McGonagall nodded.
"Better still. They can start training you at once."
"Floo powder, Albus?" It sounded like a suggestion.
"Good idea." Dumbledore nodded. We stood up; I was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. "First, reducio." The table and chairs shrank back to normal.
I blinked a couple of times. My eyes were swimming in and out of focus. Everything was so unreal to me. Professor McGonagall kept a steadying hand on my shoulder as she led me through the halls and up a lot of different staircases.
"Careful, jump this step."
I did, wondering why but not asking.
Moments later we were in front of a fireplace. Professor McGonagall took a pinch of glittering green powder and threw it into the flames.
"Favian, do as I do." She walked into the emerald green flames unflinchingly. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place!" And she was gone.
"Now you," Dumbledore held a porcelain cup out to me. I took a handful of the glittering powder and threw it in the fire. Because McGonagall hadn't been hurt I walked unfazed into the green blaze.
"Number 12 Grimmauld Place." I said, accidentally imitating McGonagall's accent. Suddenly I was spinning around and around. I could see hundreds of fireplace openings whirring by me. I closed my eyes for a moment but feared that I might miss something important and pried them open again. Suddenly I was pitched headfirst out of another fireplace and into an unfamiliar room.
"Minerva! What an unexpected surprise!"
"Most surprises are, Mollie." McGonagall was brushing herself off.
A rather pudgy red-haired woman walked over quickly, a long wand in hand. "Oh dear, who is this?"
Then Professor Dumbledore came waltzing through the fireplace, looking as steady as ever.
"Mollie, can I speak to you for a moment? Minerva, show Favian to a room if you would."
"Of course, headmaster."
I stood up wobbling slightly. McGonagall put a hand on my shoulder and guided me through the door.
"She can share a room with Hermione and Ginny!" Mollie whispered loudly.
There was the most horrible decoration in the house. It was utterly dark and shrunken heads lined a wall. Black drapes covered… something in the main hall. Presumably a window. Professor McGonagall led me up a set of stairs and steered me into a room devoid of life except for a few daisies sitting in a glass of water. McGonagall frowned at the two beds and shrugged. She conjured another with a flick of her wand, placing it in between the two.
"Take a rest, Favian. There's no need to worry until morning."
"Then there's a need eventually." I mumbled.
"Sadly, there always is."