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************************************ShadowElfBard**********************************
5:16 pm
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office
(Willow)
Dumbledore looks from the divinations professor to me, his eyebrows up in surprise. "Do you two know each other?"
I nod once, still shocked at this unexpected recognition. "She's my father's older sister. There's… there's a picture of her hanging on the wall in our hallway, actually. I met her when I was seven."
Trelawney gives a small and nervous smile. "Yes, I remember. I'd come down to ask your father for…erm…financial aid, and though I'd ended up going back to England without a pound more, I had stayed for a week. You were quite the shy one. You stayed in your room nearly the entire time I was there."
"Well I was always sort of wary of strangers… you can't really blame me. Besides, I was seven at the time." I furrow my brow. "How did you become a professor here?"
"News of my abilities with the Sight, dear." My aunt looks rather proud for a moment before she catches a withering glare from one of the professors.
"Oh! You mean you get visions and stuff." I pause for a moment. "Wait, if you're a witch, and you're my aunt, does that mean that my dad is a witch? Well, I mean, not a witch, but a wizard? Cause I know that this sort of thing travels through bloodlines and so wouldn't he have magical abilities too? And if he does, why didn't he ever tell me? And why would he have moved to the Hellmouth? Does the wizarding community even know about the Hellmouth? Or is it like one of those places your kind doesn't go? Because there aren't many real witches or wizards there, though once or twice we've had people like Amy's mom or Ethan Raynes or Rack show up… then again, I'm not really sure that Rack counts because he sort of just sucked magickal energy out of people and--"
"Will you bloody well shut up?!" Snape shouts, his eyes aflame. "You babble like a brook!"
Stung, I lower my eyes to the floor.
"Severus," Dumbledore hisses in a tone alight with disappointment and anger. "You'd do well to watch your tongue around my guests in the future. You are readily developing a most unpleasant habit of speaking before you think, and it is wearing thin on my patience."
Adequately cowed, Snape reluctantly drops his gaze, though he purses his lips with anger. "I am sorry Headmaster," he apologizes softly and with an obvious effort.
Calmed down a bit, Dumbledore gives a slow nod. "Thank you Severus, but it is not I that you should be apologizing to."
Snape brings his head up and his eyes grow wide in indignation before quickly narrowing again. With a clenching of his jaw he turns slowly towards me and gives a small bow, trying hard not to make the mocking attitude of the gesture apparent to Dumbledore. "Forgive me, Ms. Rosenberg," he grounds out in forced pleasantry. "I apo…apolo…" he seems to choke on the word. "… I apologize for my rude behavior."
With an almost invisible smirk and a slightly haughty air, I bob my head in graceful acknowledgement. "You're forgiven." Grouchy pants.
His glare, loud and clear, tells me that he's pissed. I ignore him though, and turn back to my aunt. She's still really flustered, and nervously glancing from me to Dumbledore, an unspoken question in her wide blue-green eyes.
"Ms. Rosenberg?" The Headmaster interjects into the tension-filled silence quietly, "do you have any further questions about your job that you need answered immediately?"
"Huh? Oh, no."
"Then perhaps you should unpack in your new room." He gestures towards my aunt. "Professor Trelawney, I'm sure you two have quite a bit of catching up to do, so why don't you lead her there? She'll be staying in the third guestroom in the left wing."
Trelawney looks as though she is about to protest, but then swallows and gives a shaky smile. "Very well, Headmaster."
She looks over at me patiently, and I give a small grin. "Lead the way, aunt Trelawney."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So," I say lightly, trying to start conversation. "Have you been, er, predicting long?"
I'm sitting on my new bed right now, in my new room, and Trelawney is standing off by the wall, nervously playing with her beads and avoiding my gaze. The room isn't bad at all, and though it is a little plain and motel-ish, I think it will be all right once I make a few changes. Add in a few personal items. I'm not really focusing on the decorating of the room right now though; I'm far more interested in the fact that the only person I know on my father's side is a witch like me.
"Quite some time," she says softly, still not meeting my gaze. "The headmaster hired me around fourteen years ago, my dear. I'd really only been using The Sight for a year before that."
"Oh. Cool."
I mentally groan as we once again revert to glancing about the room in silence. I never was good at social scenes of any kind. My past is coming back to haunt me, I just know it…
"I know this is going to sound awfully sordid of me, dear, but are you… are you the one who tried to destroy the world?"
I look up at my aunt, and I struggle to understand the look in her eyes. I realize that the silence is stretching a bit too far though, and so I give up.
"Yep." I try to sound cheery and light, but the closest I can come is a strangled whisper. "That's me all right. I'm the mournful lover who attempted to fulfill the goal of a satanic cult and burn the planet to a crisp. Why do you ask?"
Suddenly, my aunt does the most unexpected thing she can do.
She starts bawling her eyes out.
"Au-Aunt Trelawney?" I ask in a worried tone, my eyes wide and fearful. "Are you… are you okay?"
"Ohhh!" she moans with a sob, her beads clattering as she shakes her head. "I'm a fraud! I'm a fake, I'm a, a, a… a no-good squib!"
"Er, really?" I have no clue at what her last self-insult means, but focus more on her first words. "Why do you say that? You uh, you seem fine to me."
She grabs a handkerchief (seemingly from nowhere) and blows her nose into it, then sniffles and says, "You don't have to pretend. I know that the others have already warned you about me. They probably all told you my story before you ever saw me." She starts to cry again. "They probably told you all about how I hardly ever predict things that come true, and, and how I couldn't even foresee that my only niece would try to destroy the world!"
"Aunt Trelawney, I haven't heard any stories about you," I try to convince her, hearing her quiet down a little at my words. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
She glances up at me, her eyes puffy and red. "Y-You don't? Really?"
"Nope."
"…"
"Would you like me to forget that this little… er…'outburst', ever happened?"
"That would be quite lovely, dear."
"Okay."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It's been an hour since my aunt left, probably going to freshen up and then have dinner, and I've just finished unpacking. I've hung what few clothes and robes I have in the wardrobe, brought out my few books and after categorizing them by subject, content, and the author's last name, lined them up on my small desk, and taken out my other little knick knacks (jewelry, photos, necessities and my laptop) and put them in their own places. And after gazing over my decorating skills, I'd have to say that the place looks nice. Not homey-- not yet-- but definitely nicer than before.
Bored out of my mind, I'm actually considering trying on one of my new robes and seeing how I look in it. (Cordelia would probably die laughing if she heard that.) I've just never worn an actual robe before, and the ones that I'd bought are actually very pretty. I am going to have to wear them all year long, right? Shouldn't I see how I fit in it? See what the "new" Willow is going to look like?
Boredom, I've just decided, is a very dangerous thing.
But with a mental 'what the heck', and a shrug of my shoulders, I still make my way over to the closet. After scanning over a few of the robes (I only have five) I pick out the one that caught my eye from the beginning and slip it on.
The color is an almost forest green with Celtic designs around the collar in a dark velvety red. It hugs close to my body but has long, almost draping sleeves, and all in all it's actually very comfortable. Curious as to how I'll look in it, I move to stand in front of the full-length mirror.
When I see myself for the first time in nearly two weeks, I can barely keep from gasping out loud. The first thing that I register is that I've lost weight-- and not in the good way either. I'd already had a very high metabolism (lucky me) and as I look back upon this week I realize that I've hardly been eating. I'm sure that the stress and depression haven't helped me keep a steady figure either.
The second thing I notice is that I look older somehow, though I really can't find any wrinkles of age lines. Maybe it's in my eyes, or how my mouth is in a steady, serious line, or perhaps it's the way I hold myself. I can't tell what it is, but I do look aged and weathered, and I realize rather grimly that it fits how I feel.
The only good thing that I get out of this mirror is that the robe fits well, and that it matches my eyes. Yippee.
Sighing I turn away from my reflection before catching sight of something in the glass. Immediately I spin towards the doorway, and hear an audible squeak of terror from the creature standing there. It's little, green, and has bulbous globe-like eyes and long batty ears. The being stumbles backwards from my room, frightened and surprised at being caught, and wrings its hands in fear as I move towards it slowly.
"B-b-begging your pardon, Miss, Dobby didn't want to interrupt, he just couldn't help himself, Dobby is so sorry, so sorry, he--"
"Whoa!" I interrupt him, holding my hands up non-threateningly. "It's okay, really. I was just surprised. You're not in trouble."
The little creature bursts into tears at this. "Oh, thank you, thank you! Dobby is lucky indeed to have met such a merciful witch!"
"Er… you're welcome." I raise and eyebrow, and then, unable to help myself, ask him "what are you, exactly?"
"Hm? Oh, I'm Dobby, Miss. Dobby the house-elf."
"A house-elf?" I start moving back into my room, and at his nervous gaze I nod, telling him it's all right to come in. He follows me in as he answers my question.
"Yes, Miss. We house-elves are servants… and slaves. We serve a family or person until we die or are given clothing, Miss. Many of us are treated like vermin, but not Dobby! Not anymore! Dobby lives in the castle now, and works with the other house-elves in the kitchen. Dobby is thankful that the Great Dumbledore allows Dobby to stay here; he is most kind."
I sit upon my bed in shock. Slaves? Until they die?
"That's awful," I whisper.
He nods solemnly. "For many of us, it is. Very few house-elves are lucky enough to have kind people like mister Dumbledore look after them. Dobby used to be a slave for a very dreadful family. They would do the most awful things to Dobby…" he shudders.
There's a pause of complete silence. Then, a question I'd had comes back to me.
"Dobby, what exactly were you doing spying on me?"
The house-elf's eyes become the size of dinner plates. "Spying on you, Miss? Never spying, never spying. Dobby was… Dobby was investigating, Miss. We'd all heard tell that the Scarlet Witch was coming. Dobby was curious and came to look for himself, but never spied, on you. Never spied."
" 'Scarlet Witch'?"
He bobs his head. "Yes, Miss. The one who had almost brought the world to flames. Every elf felt it," he shivered briefly. "It was so cold, Miss. So full of sorrow…"
I struggle and manage to push down the lump in my throat. Did I really cause everyone to feel my pain? Was I ever that powerful, that full of anguish? Yes. Yes, I was. That's why I'm here. Remember? That's why I can't return to my friends in Sunnydale, and why my reflection looks so unfamiliar.
"Dobby," I whisper, "I think I'd like to be alone for awhile. Do you think you could…?"
He seems to understand, and solemnly bows his head. "Dobby could, Miss. Dobby could."
I listen as Dobby leaves my room and closes the door behind him, before I return to staring at the unfathomable depths of the mirror in front of me, wondering…
Who am I now?
************************************************************************************
Review Returns:
Spearsister: LoL, you're right about putting Snape in his place, but I don't think that Willow will be getting with Snape in this little fiction of mine. Then again, you never know, because these characters always have a way of changing my plans…
Charmedfanatic3000: thank you thank you thank you thank you! *chuckle*
Imp17: Thank you very much for your review, and I hope I keep you interested.
Sellser: I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the review!
Starfury: I will!!
Susan: Don't fret, Willow will be meeting the Dark Lord himself soon enough. Thanx for your review!
Moonbunny77: Evil? Thanx! Evil guys get all the good lines…
WhiteWolf 3: Yeah, I liked that quote too. *returns grin*
FunkyWitchOnFire: Cool penname! And your review made me blush. I hope that my fiction continues to meet your standards!
Captain Chameleon: Is there a history behind your penname? Oh, and I'm happy that I was able to surprise you with the twist!
Sigma1: And your reviews are wonderful as always! Thanks, Sigma!