For all the Delias in my life. God bless you all, and may you find your true vocations.
Chapter Ten
Delia was feeling a little left out. Okay, so maybe she was feeling a little bit more than left out- she was feeling abandoned. Jessica, James, Mick , and Gareth had all got together in a corner, playing some game, and she hadn't been invited. They probably hadn't seen her, Delia thought resignedly, because she was so quiet. Gareth was forever telling her to speak up, to make her presence known.
Now there was a half hour before supper, and Delia was going exploring on her own, the first time she had dared to do so without the protection of her new friends the Potters and Gareth. A very brave idea, she knew, and one that could make them- all of her friends- see how brave she was. She wasn't a coward, she was just very shy.
With a wave and a quiet farewell, Delia stepped out of the common room into the wide world of Hogwarts on her own.
Corridors turned and twisted, portraits blended together, land markings became rare, and Delia found herself hopelessly lost. Standing in the middle of an abandoned classroom, she began to feel a sob try to works its way up past her chest into her throat, but she refused to let it.
The sound of her own very small shoes clicking against the stone floor of the classroom sounded ominous to Delia, and she felt a chill run up her spine. She wasn't going to scream, and she wasn't going to panic. There was a way to find her way back to the common room. There just had to be.
Bravely, she threw back her shoulders and walked out the door to reenter the corridor. With a flip of her head for the benefit of whatever divine power that was watching her, she made a seemingly careless choice to go left.
She walked for some time, until the carpet changed from a lovely deep purple color to a forest green, and then she stopped. That tingling in the back of her spine had turned into a twinge.
"What is this? A wandering visitor to the Hall Of Headmasters?"
Delia turned around fast, her eyes wild and her chest heaving. Until now, the silence had been like a blanket, the sound of her own thoughts like thunder in her head. She now found herself face to face with a portrait of a kindly man with midnight blue robes and a pointed hat, who smiled at her gently from behind half-moon spectacles. His hair and beard were long and white, but while she would have normally been frightened, she felt at ease immediately when she looked at this man, because she recognized who he was. Professor Albus Dumbledore.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, sir. I'll leave now…"
"No, no, it's quite all right. It gets rather dull around here." The old professor gestured towards the other portraits in the room. "After a time, all they want to do is sleep."
Delia chuckled softly, because the quiet snores that each portrait emitted had gathered to a large, single sound that sounded like an accordion compressing and then stretching.
His eyes still twinkling, Professor Dumbledore sat in a chair that had been in the background of the portrait until just then. "What is your name, young lady?"
"Delia Williams, Professor Dumbledore."
"Williams…" Professor Dumbledore did some quick mental calculations. "Ah, yes. David and Lucy were your parents, right?"
Delia nodded, and nervously pulled on her hair. "That's right. I was Sorted into Gryffindor, like my father."
"My old house!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed. "Of course, I don't get out for Quidditch matches anymore, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it there."
"If I stay there," Delia mumbled.
Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I have a feeling you will, young lady. Do you realize what brave things you have accomplished, just today?"
Delia shook her head mournfully. "I haven't done anything brave. I went to go exploring, and then I got lost. I was horribly frightened when I was in that room by myself and…"
The old headmaster shook his head in disagreement. "Someone has given you the wrong definition of brave, Miss Williams. It does not mean that you are not frightened. If you are never frightened, you were never brave, you were stupid. On the contrary, being brave means doing what needs to be done despite the fact that you are frightened."
"Jessica Potter says her dad was never frightened."
Professor Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I'm sure that if you were to ask Harry if he's ever been frightened, he will tell you that he has been, and probably will be again.
"Being brave doesn't mean not being shy, either, Miss Williams. Sometimes it takes more bravery to not say anything than it does to give your opinion."
Delia blushed, feeling strangely honored to have this famous man's full attention directed at her. Maybe to Jessica, James and Mick, this would be normal, but Delia wasn't used to having adults pay her any mind at all. "But my brother…"
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Ah. I'm sure that your brother thinks the world of you, Miss Williams, and I'm also sure he's quite worried about you. He just doesn't want you get run over, so to speak. He wants you to make friends on your own."
"You've never met my brother!"
"Yes, I have, Miss Williams. If not personally, then I've met others like him. The more things change, the more they stay the same, to use an old cliché. I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but you are needed elsewhere. Take a right at the next corner you see, and head left down the corridor that runs parallel to this one. There is a door with a very large handle that is painted gold. Open it, and you'll find where you want to be."
"Will I be able to find this place again, Professor Dumbledore?"
"I shall always be at Hogwarts for those who need me," the old professor's portrait said. "That will never change, no matter how many years pass. You may never find my picture again, but I am with you in spirit. Now, you'd best get a move on, young lady."
Delia nodded and waved quickly, then she was off like a shot, a sense of urgency filling to the brim. She just knew that whatever task the former headmaster had given her was important, and had to be done quickly.
Doors flew past, but none of them fit the description that Professor Dumbledore had given her, and she began to have a case of tunnel vision. She could hardly see anything or anyone, so focused was she on her goal.
Hogwarts unfolded before her, seeming to aid her in her search. Delia began to pray fervently that whatever it was, she would make it in time.
Finally she saw the door. Stopping abruptly, she turned the handle and pushed. The door wouldn't open. Taking a deep breath, she focused. She just knew someone was in trouble; she had an instinct for these things.
On the third try, the door yielded to her efforts. The room was cool, and a sort of ivy grew all over the walls. Huddled up in a corner was the body of a house elf.
Delia flew across the room to pick up the sturdy form. It was a male house elf, she could tell, and his head rolled back when she cradled him in her arms. She looked for vital signs-a chest moving, a pulse anywhere.
She began to chant to herself, "Please, don't be dead. Please don't be dead."
Feeling a familiar, and at the same time strange, golden liquid running through her veins as it had done when she was younger, she continued her mantra. Slowly, the house elf regained conscious and then opened his eyes.
Exhausted, Delia fell back to the floor, and they both lay there for a while.
"M'name's Gus Guthersford… Mr. Gruthersford to acquaintances and Gus to those who save m'life."
Delia smiled weakly. "My name is Delia, Mr. Gruthersford."
"I just said that those who save my life can call me Gus, Healer Delia."
"Oh, no, I'm not a Healer, I just… I mean, I'm just a child!"
Gus grinned. "I've always found that children can do much more than some adults… mostly because you don't fully realize your limitations yet. How old are you, by the way?"
"I'm eleven, sir."
"Gus, child, m'name's Gus." He hummed delightfully to himself. "Poppy Pomfrey couldn't do that at your age, young one, and she's one of the most brilliant Healers to have walked the planet!"
Delia blushed. "I didn't do anything. Honestly, I don't know if I could do it again…"
"I'll just bet you could! It's always instinct with Healers, it is. I wonder… Did you see the bloke that knocked me about?"
"No, I just got here. Prof… I mean, someone told me that I was needed, and I came as fast as I could, but when I get here you were the only one around."
The house elf scratched head, bewildered. "It had to be a Muggle, or a Squib. No wizard would have hit me on the back of the skull like that. Unless, of course, their magic is traceable. That would make them a Muggle, a Squib, or a not very powerful wizard."
"They meant to kill you, Mr. Gruthersford. Do you work here at the school?"
"It's Gus, lass. No, I don't work here. I used to, many years ago…"
"Then what were you doing at the school?"
"Doing some favors for an old friend." The old house elf started to sway slightly. "I think that blow to the head is getting to me, Delia."
"We'd best get you to the hospital wing, Mr. Gruthersford. I don't know if I can bring you back a second time."
"No, it's nothing that serious. I'll just have a bit of a sit-down here on the floor for a minute." Slowly, he leveled his bottom with the floor. He couldn't do anything as fast as he used to, he thought to himself with some regret.
"Mr. Gruthersford, really…"
"I could have sworn I heard something creak," he mumbled to himself. "Ah, well, it's no matter. As soon as I can get up off this blasted floor, I need you to take me to the Potter children."
"Why?" Delia asked, suddenly suspicious.
Mr. Gruthersford sighed. "It's complicated, but I think I've found the solution to their problem. I think I know how to cure Sirius Black."
**
Raina O'Reilly found herself face to face with the one man she never thought she would have to confront. Sirius Black.
He didn't look so dangerous now, with all the wires attached to his body, quiet beeps and murmurs of the magical devices that monitored his functions not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of his deep, struggling breath.
All of his life, her father had spent pursuing this man, who now could hardly breathe on his own. Yet, he fought for life because of the love that he had for the people who had become his family.
Raina wished that she had a family.
Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and he turned to look at her. He tried to manage a cocky grin, but most of his strength was spent fighting this disease that no one knew anything about.
"Are you just going to stand there, Commander O'Reilly?" The tone of his voice was slightly mocking, or would have been.
"Mr. Black," Raina greeted him with a smile. "How are you today?"
His eyebrows drew together. "How do you think I am?"
"Sorry, I guess that's a dumb question."
"No, I'm just being snappish. I still sometimes jump at the sight of one of those uniforms, though having Harry join did make me feel a bit better."
Raina took a step inside the room. "He'd rather be playing Quidditch, but then, he deserved that."
"How's Ron doing teaching my class?" Sirius's smile was even more forced with this sentence.
"He thinks it's more challenging than catching evil wizards."
Sirius laughed. "I've been telling him that for fifteen years now!" His laugh turned to a harsh cough. "Damn and blast."
"Do you need me to call a nurse?"
"No, for Merlin's sake, it's only a cough." The next fit brought him off the bed in protest. "Please. Don't. They'll give me something that will make me loopy."
Raina paused. "If you insist."
"I do. I spent enough years loopy in that hell hole of a place."
Raina didn't know what to say. "I…"
Sirius sighed. He hadn't meant to scare her. "It just makes you appreciate your freedom more, you understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
Something in her eyes told him that she did.
"Can I call you Raina?" His eyes were kinder than any murderer's would ever be.
"Of course."
**
That's it! Voila! Remember: groups.yahoo.com/group/testedinfirefans/ is where to go if you want more info!
