"A Hellgate and a Veil are two different things. A Veil is a one-way ticket to the other side. You walk in, but you don't walk out. A Hellgate…well all manner of things may come back out."

- Allister Moody

Chapter 6: My Dad Was UuuGly

King's grip on me wasn't as solid as it had been the past few times. The moment we landed, I went stumbling out, landing hard on the plush shag red carpeting. "Oomph!"

"I'm sorry," King rushed over and hoisted me up. There was another sound of blazing fire before the woman Tonks came in behind us.

I looked up at the sound of squawking, letting Kingsley- HEY! I remembered his name!- letting Kingsley help me up off the floor. The most beautiful bird I had ever seen stood perched with his head cocked in my direction. "Pretty," I cooed in awe of the animal. I don't know if he understood but his chest puffed out just a little bit more.

"His name is Fawkes," came a scratchy airy voice from the top of the stairs. A man as thin as Jesus Christ with a beard like Santa came floating down. He was an angel in weird purple clothes. He had the coolest glasses and these bright blue eyes that were staring right at me. Now that I think about it, he was staring at me kind of weird. "I see you've all arrived safely. Kingsley, Nymphadora, nice to see you." They exchanged greetings and that's when I learned that this was him. Dumble-something. He was about to kneel down to my eye level like so many people had been doing that day but I stopped him.

"No," I said, hold out my hands to make sure he stayed upright. He was old- very old by the looks of it. One thing I learned from the very few visits my parents let me pay to my grandfather, old people had bad bones and stiff joints. I grabbed his hand and moved him to sit in the comfiest chair in the room. "You shouldn't bend over. You'll strain yourself." His thick white brows raised to his hairline while Tonks tried to smother a giggle.

"How very polite of you," he said with what I think was amusement in his tone. "But I think you'll find I am just a bit more capable regardless of how old I may appear." He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk. "You have a seat as well. You and I have much to discuss before you go."

"Go?" I asked in a bit of a panic. "You mean I can't stay."

"O- Oho dear no we aren't kicking you out. You will be back at the start of the term with all the other children." Then he turned to the adults. "May you wait outside while I speak to her alone?"

If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought I was in trouble. That was impossible though. I was barely here two seconds. And while there were more than plenty of knickknacks in this room for me to get into, I hadn't had time to touch a thing I wasn't supposed to. At the site of the candy dish on the desk, I sat on my hands. The last thing I wanted was to start off the school year with a detention. Instead his long fingers reached in and plucked one out himself. "Lemon drop?" he asked, holding the dish out to me. Mama always told me it was rude not to accept a gift. But she also told me never to take candy from strangers.

"No thank you, sir," I croaked. As comforting as his presence was, he made me nervous. I never felt the need to be so at ease with anyone ever in my life and that frightened me.

He just hummed and ate the candy himself. Old people don't usually like sweets so much. Well except for old man Nelson. He ate a bag of chocolates a week from the local chocolatier but the new girl there didn't remember stop selling to him. He's an eighty-year old diabetic. They found him dead on the toilet the next day. I remember because the kids at school were laughing that he was on the toilet. "Mary?" Mr. Dumble said, waving a hand in my face. I snapped my attention to him. Had he been talking this whole time? "You seem distracted."

"It happens sometimes. I'm sorry, sir," I mumbled. Truth was it happened more often than sometimes. But a little white lie wouldn't hurt. He just smiled at me over his glasses as if he could re-...read my mind...I suddenly remembered my fear of the headmaster. "What's a headmaster?"

"Sort like what you have at your school. The man or woman in charge."

"A principal?"

"Precisely."

"So then they don't call you a headmaster because you can read people's thoughts?"

He laughed at that. I don't understand why he laughed. I knew nothing about his kind of people. So it seemed like a genuine question to ask. He never did answer it. "Let us get to the point. I don't want to keep your escorts waiting too long. And you still have somewhere else to be."

He dug into the top drawer and pulled out a photo of two older kids in uniforms. I almost dropped it after he handed it to me. But wouldn't you? They started moving. "W-what is it?"

"That is an old photograph of your parents when they were seventh year students here."

"My parents?" I picked the picture back up and held it for a closer look. They were young. Far too young for it to register that they gave birth to me. No one wanted to think of their parents as kids. The girl, my mother, was really pretty. She had dirty blonde hair in perfect curls. Like the old blonde Charlie's Angel. That must have been the popular way to wear your hair back then. But her hair was kind of short. Still, it framed a soft smiling face full of white shining teeth. It hurt to look at her. She reminded me far too much of Jubilee. It somehow wasn't very comforting to know that my own mother may have been one of them- popular. The boy on the other hand looked a lot less like he fit the bill of the boys that bully me for taking remedial classes. He was incredibly tall and well built. Not like a football player. Like a soldier. His hair was brown and greasy looking. Not to mention entirely too long. A braid came over his shoulder that stopped at his hip. Oh, his face! With a father like that, I was lucky if I looked plain. His features were sharp and pointy. They made him look angry. I now had someone to blame for the bags under my eyes. They were squinty and hazel but even through the picture, they looked like they were laughing. "They looked happy going here."

"They were," he nodded. "Your father was one of five exchange students we accepted. He came in from Bulgaria his fourth year. Your mother was from a very prominent fam-"

"What does prominent mean?"

"Something like outstanding. They were a very important family." I nodded to let him know I understood. Regardless of what my teachers thought, I like to learn new things. At least when I care about what I'm learning. If I don't, I tend to get distracted. "The McGowens were a very powerful family of pureblood witches and wizards. And all the talent and prestige of their blood flows through your very veins, Mary," he smiled with a tap to my arm. I looked down at myself as if I would see words like talent and prominent swimming by in my blood like alphabet soup. "You are a seer, Mary. Seers are people born with the gift to see things that haven't happened yet. Or signs and symbols of someone's fortune. It may not always work at will. Everyone's power works differently. If you get really good at it, you'll be able to predict things or see omens whenever you want."

Now that sounded really cool. Really really cool. "So I could cheat on tests and stuff?"

He simply laughed again. But he never answered me. Maybe Dumble gets distracted too, just like me. But he's old so it would only make sense. Shouldn't he have retired by now? "Now to a more serious matter-"

"Can I keep this?" I asked, holding up the picture. I hadn't meant to interrupt him. I've been doing that a lot lately I noticed.

"Yes Mary. It's yours," he said, his eyes were gravely serious. "Now no more interrupting okay?"

"Yes, sir." I couldn't put the picture in my pocket without folding it up so I sat on it instead. Kingsley had my bag.

"The magic in your blood is very precious, Mary, but it's also hurting you." He stopped me when I opened my mouth to interrupt. "Let me finish. It's all to do with the way you've been raised. You're a pureblood witch. Magic is sowed into every fiber of your being. It's your life-"

"But I've never used magic before." I quickly clapped a hand over my mouth when I realized I had interrupted.

"But you did once. Every child does at one point. It's a way to show that a young wizard is coming into their own. It's like your magic itself is alive and growing with the years." He looked like he was having a difficult time speaking about this.

"What's wrong? Is there something wrong with me?"

"It's your magic. It's been stunted." His eyes traveled up over my head for a moment, to a portrait of a smiling little girl. "It's rare that this ever happens, almost unheard of. But when a wizard is traumatized at a younger age, when the magic is just establishing itself, and that wizard is forced to reject their magic, it stops the natural flow of things. Like a dam. It keeps building up until it overflows or breaks through. Usually triggered by an emotion. After that it lashes out. You can't control it. It's just painful and destructive." I sat there, silent. I couldn't speak. I didn't know what he wanted me to say. "I need to know what happened Mary."

"What...happened?"

"When you first used magic. Did someone hurt you because of it?"

I hadn't thought of that day, not really, since it ended. I find that when I do, bad things happen. Worse than splitting a roof or turning the house upside down. I was five years old at the time I first used magic. "I don't want to talk about it," I said after I felt the familiar vibration under my fingertips.

He looked solemn. "It was your guardians. The Greggory's." He wasn't asking anymore. Somehow, he just knew. It strangely bothered me that this man was judging my parents. For a couple of people I didn't like much, I was protective of them at the oddest of times.

"They only wanted to help me." Vibrations turned to itching. The pain would come next.

Dumble got up from behind his desk and tried to grab my hands but I flinched away. It always hurt when people touched me while I was like this. Everywhere they pressed was like a whole being stopped up. No place for the pain to pour out of. "It is imperative that you tell me what happened."

I didn't know what imperative meant either but I imagine it meant important too. He uses a lot of important words. "I-I-I saved a dog." My voice was thin and rasped. The candy dish started to rattle now. "We were at another church fundraiser. A puppy-mill. I can't remember why but I knew the roofing was going to collapse on one of the puppy cages. No one would believe me. So I went and got the puppy myself...

The sound of old hits from the sixties and gospel music rattled the old rusty pipes of the mill. No matter that it probably hurt the dogs' ears. They were strays and we were rescuing them. Kind of like the way my parents recued me. I tugged on the end of my mother's dress. "Mama...Maw-"

"What is it now, child?" she hissed. I had interrupted another conversation between her and father Evans. It didn't matter. It looked like his wife was about to interrupt them anyway.

"The roof Mama. I saw it."

"There's nothing wrong with the roof."

"But-"

"Just shut it already. Why don't you go play with Jubilee? Leave grown folks be."

But I kept seeing it. There was going to be a loud bang and then a chunk of roofing was going to fall and squash the little gray terrier. And he was so small. And so cute. No one wanted him. He was the skinniest of the lot and a bit awkward looking but he was cute just the same. No one wanted him. Just like no one wanted me. I opened the cage myself and pulled him out. We weren't supposed to, but I did. I didn't want him to be squashed. "Hey," I cooed and pet the little thing. He barked back. A pathetic sort of bark. "It's alright. I won't let anything happen to you."

I must have sat there for at least an hour before the big bang happened. I never thought far enough ahead to move out of the way. I was always forgetting to do things. One of the Jennings boys ran the car into the side of the mill. The pipes rattled and groaned until three came loose, spraying steam this way and that. The roof cracked. And rather than moving I looked up at it. In utter fascination. Like seeing something familiar for the first time. Impossible, I know, but it happened that way. It was Deja vu.

"MARY!"

That scream was what alerted me to the danger I put myself in. The plaster really was going to kill me. I shoved the puppy underneath me and huddled around it for protection. I didn't want the puppy to get hurt. More than anything else, I wanted it to be okay...

I hadn't noticed when I closed my eyes but when I opened them, I felt so very dizzy. Glass and yellow candy were all over the floor. Kingsley and Tonks were back in the room. And I was blacking out.