Word Count: 2,497

Former Word Count: 1,906

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What Might Be Called a Mistake

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[July 10, 1994: Office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry]

"Good evening!" Albus Dumbledore called, though it sounded somewhat strained as if he was burying his anxiety beneath a façade, "I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and this is Britain's Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Welcome, welcome! Would you like tea? A lemon drop, perhaps?"

"No, thank you." the woman murmured, her voice gentle and soft, though it seemed almost clandestine, hiding wonderfully dangerous secrets. "I am Alith Mercuriel, Deputy Headmistress of Altair Institute of Magic. This is Solaris, my associate, and a professor at our school."

Solaris said nothing, though he tilted his head very slightly in a greeting. His cool eyes were pinned to the figure of the 'Most Powerful Wizard in Britain,' one eyebrow cocked in expectation. It seemed almost as if he was silently telling the Hogwarts Headmaster that it was his turn to play.

"A-," Minister Fudge faltered when Solaris' eyes turned to him, pinning him with a gaze that seemed to freeze Fudge in his seat. Cornelius swallowed almost fearfully before continuing, "A pleasure to have you both, Deputy Mercuriel, Mister Solaris-"

"Professor Solaris, if you will, Minister Fudge," Solaris interjected softly, smiling lazily, which rather than relaxing the two British men like it would have if he were human, made Solaris seem awfully like he was waiting for his prey to come to him. The amused glint in Solaris as they stiffened slightly made it apparent he knew it, too.

"Professor Solaris, of course. My apologies." Cornelius continued, seeming to gain confidence the more he spoke, "We have a proposition for the Altair Institute of Magic if you would hear it."

Alith Mercuriel seemed utterly uninterested, an entertained curve pulling at her mouth, the only action that showed her curiosity (or perhaps disbelief) was the raising of an eyebrow. "What, pray tell, do you propose?" Mercuriel asked calmly, "The… request… you sent us for an audience was incredibly unclear."

"Our apologies," Dumbledore interjected. He was never one to be left out of a conversation for long. "I thought it was an unsuitable subject to be discussed in a letter. It is a complicated proposal, but I believe that it is a proposal you will approve of."

The glance Mercuriel and Solaris shared was one of dry amusement, but it seemed to put Dumbledore under the impression that they were nervous. "It is a proposal that will only assist the both of us, I assure you."

"Please, enlighten us," Mercuriel said, hiding the mild offense she felt. "I am sure that your complicated request will be interesting, at the very least."

Dumbledore beamed at them, thoughtlessly believing it had been a compliment rather than the disdainful amusement it was. "Why, in order to increase Britain's cooperation with non-human magicals, Cornelius had the idea of instituting an exchange program. We would have, say… 20 of our students attend Altair Institute for a year. It would help our children better understand non-human cultures and expose them to a wonderfully different experience. I am sure that Miss Callisto Potter would be delighted at the opportunity as well."

Both of the representatives from Altair were utterly silent and still for a moment. It was broken by Mercuriel's quiet scoff and light laughter as Solaris smiled amusedly to himself. He was surprised they hadn't shouted that Callisto Potter would be involved when they first entered, though it was still rather early on in the conversation and they already used her as a bargaining point. (Though to be fair, a huge point for Altair Institute of Magic was that their teachers were often very well known for being as old, powerful, or talented as they were.)

Deputy Headmistress Mercuriel smiled mirthfully as she responded: "We at Altair hold the privacy of our students and staff in high esteem. What incentive, exactly, do we have for allowing your students into our highly revered school?"

Cornelius, nerves forgotten, replied, "We would, of course, allow you to reasonably place the necessary privacy charms."

Cornelius smiled a politician's smile, you make small concessions and you can get much more from the people you are dealing with. "As for compensation" he continued, "we would pay for the tuition of our students, of course. This exchange is really about letting us better understand the needs of magical creatures. The students that would be participating in this exchange would be upstanding members of British society… including, of course, the recent defeater of the Dark Lord."

Though the two Altair personnel had stiffened at the word 'creatures,' they had shared amused grins at the thought that the pest calling himself Voldemort would have proven a challenge. The only truly interesting thing about him was his death, or more specifically, the cause of his death. The power that would have to be apparent in a child of one and a half years for them to be able to defeat a far older wizard was remarkable. Though it was likely something her parents did, they couldn't help the little bit of curiosity. Not to mention the magic surge on the day Callisto Potter had finally destroyed the Dark Lord that had rather spectacularly disrupted more than one Necromancy Act. She, at least, would be an interesting study.

'A Dark Lord indeed,' Solaris thought, 'truly ridiculous. What does that even mean?' He glanced at Mercuriel, assured she had the same thoughts. "This exchange," the vampire started slowly, "would only be possible if the students of Hogwarts agreed to be judged and held to the same standards and rules as our Altair students. I understand this might be difficult for them."

The offended look on Albus Dumbledore's face was going a long way to convince Solaris the Hogwarts students would be a good opportunity. As long as Alith Mercuriel and the Headmaster could come up with some excuse to keep other schools from asking for the same damn thing. Altair was not going to be a charity case for idiot students who wanted an opportunity to "understand the needs of magical creatures."

"We would also be required to remove from them memories of our school should they fail." Mercuriel continued. "We will also only allow for 12 students, not 20. Three from each house of your school, for balance. We want to make sure that your dear heroine is very welcome at our school."

"That sounds very agreeable." Cornelius mused, quickly agreeing. "I am sure that Miss Potter will be glad to hear that she will be welcome."

Fudge seemed to brush entirely over what the meaning of 'judged and held to the same standards' might mean for the students, though Dumbledore seemed at least a little bothered.

"We will choose 12 students and mail you a list of their names." the Minister for Magic finished, smiling proudly at his achievement. He and Dumbledore both missed the look of entertainment shared between vampire and fae.

There had been no mention of student safety, and no intention of hammering out any official documents or agreements was apparent. It seemed almost as if the two British wizards didn't care at all for the safety of the students. That safety was going to be one of the things in question at Altair. That, and whether or not they could keep up with aggravated "non-humans" and moderately psychotic teachers. Solaris certainly doubted it, but it would still be fun to find out.

"That will be fine." Mercuriel agreed anyways. "Good evening, men."

Mercuriel didn't wait for a reply before rising and slipping through the floo, Solaris following behind only moments later.

'Oh,' Solaris thought wryly, 'this would be very, very interesting indeed. Hopefully, the amusement is greater than the aggravation.'

…

[July 11, 1994: Saint Mungo's, Secure Ward]

"Come on, Bambi," a rather frustrated Sirius Black muttered as he paced back and forth by her bed, before sitting down and grabbing her hand, trailing his thumb across her palm as he worried. "Wake up for your dogfather," Sirius insisted, one hand coming up to run through his hair in a "disgustingly mudblood-ish action" as his dear mother would have said. His precious god-daughter had been unconscious for 13 days now, only briefly waking up the day before (and Sirius hadn't been there!). His closest friend sat next to him, Remus' hand coming to rest comfortably on Sirius' shoulder as the werewolf watched the girl that his wolf was beginning to insist was his cub. The three had spent the previous Christmas cleaning up Grimmauld Place together.

They both looked rather downcast, worry only dissolving when they recalled the good that had happened recently. Sirius had been freed with a sincere apology from Madam Amelia Bones (and more gleefully, Minister Cornelius Fudge.)

"Little flower… you're supposed to get up!" Sirius whined pathetically, "and be that beautiful, happy, baby girl of Lily's that I know you are!"

"No…" Callisto Azalea Potter-Black groaned, making the two men freeze as they stared at her, "I'm tired…"

"Bambi!" Sirius cried in synchrony with Remus' "Azalea!" as the two stood, wrapping her up in a tight hug, even as Remus' overly protective wolf came to the surface.

"Callisto Azalea Lilian Potter-Black!" the former Defense Professor cried, glowering suddenly as the girl jolted and stared at him with widening eyes, "You will never get yourself hurt this badly ever again. You… you're prohibited from getting hurt this bad. If you get sent to Saint Mungo's again…" he hesitates, growling slightly, "Then I'll tie you up, and you'll never be let out of the house again!"

"Moony!" Azalea protested, voice hoarse though genuinely worried, "You wouldn't really do that, would you? Wait! I'm in Saint Mungo's? Padfoot- what? Why- you shouldn't be here!"

Sirius barked out an amused laugh, "Calm down, pup! I was pardoned after your little show… Wormtail having not died when he was supposed to be was proof enough of my innocence, and I talked to Amelia about it. Don't worry, Bambi."

Callisto Azalea did not calm down. "My little show? What do you mean? What happened? I was… I remember being in the graveyard…. And V-Voldemort was… it hurt, Padfoot. There was fire, and… I can't remember. What happened?"

"Oh, Azzie," Remus said softly, "what happened, Bambi, was that something went wrong when Voldemort came back. Madam Bones thinks that your magic must have lashed out in a display of accidental magic and he and all his Death Eaters are gone." He smiled slightly, "he's gone for good. The public has been heralding you as a savior again, but we're just…." he reached out to grab the hand Sirius hadn't attached himself to, "We're so glad that you're safe, Azzie. You're safe."

"What?" Azalea asked weakly, "All of the Death Eaters? Safe? I don't think I've ever been…. Safe."

"You are now." Sirius said firmly, "It's horrible that a lot of people died, but that wasn't your fault. They were all guilty, Callisto Azalea. You know what we said about how the Death Eater Orientation requires you to torture and kill innocent people. They were guilty, Azzie. It was Voldemort's fault that they died."

Azalea sobbed, 'was it really?' It was her magic, that much she could tell from it's whispered, 'They got what they deserved… no one uses us…' Her magic was delighted, humming happily and warming Azalea from the inside as it relaxed drowsily. Magical Exhaustion, she figures, something Madame Pomfrey had mentioned on one of her (many) visits to the hospital wing. Azalea didn't really know how her magic often spoke to her. It was something she'd kept to herself-the awareness her magic seemed to have. Azalea had asked Hermione once-it's Granger now, Azalea realized, she had essentially abandoned her after all-and she had been laughed at by Granger. ("Of course magic isn't sentient. Do you really think your magic is talking to you? What makes you so special?")

It was a bizarre experience, to be talked to by her magic, something that was supposed to be a part of her. The two seemed to share a body, but her magic-while it hadn't ever spoken before the Graveyard, it liked to push and nudge at her emotions and nudge Azalea where it wanted her. Most of the time, her magic protected her, but it was also at fault for getting her into an incredibly risky situation where she (rather routinely) almost died.

"It wasn't, Bambi!" Sirius insisted, sitting next to her on the hospital bed, "It was their own fault for bowing to Lord Snake-face."

It was enough to pull a startled giggle from Azalea, and though it really wasn't that funny, the brilliant smile and hug she got from Sirius made up for it. Azalea finally took the time to look around, blinking rather blearily at her surroundings. Remus had said she was in Saint Mungo's… and the white and gray certainly confirmed that she was in a hospital. It was driving her crazy, the white walls and white floor and white ceiling and oh, look, a plant. The bed was too squishy and probably full of foam or whatever the magical equivalent was. Shouldn't there be a healer somewhere?

As if he read her mind, Remus stood with a gentle smile. "I'll go get a healer. They'll want you here another three days at least to make sure you've recovered. You had a bad case of magical exhaustion, and though we've got a lot we need to talk to you about, Saint Mungos isn't the place."

He disappeared from the private room, door swishing shut behind him silently, even as Sirius hugged her tightly against him and Azalea finally returned the hug. She was just so glad to see him, pardoned and there and smiling brightly.

"You've been in Mungo's for 13 days, Bambi." Sirius said, "I've been out of my mind. The healers insisted on seeing me too-prison and all that, and I'm on a potion regimen or two. There's been a ton of interesting developments lately. Fudge, the moron that he is, has been planning something with Dumbledore's approval. It's probably going to involve you, Azzie."

"I don't want any more attention though" Callisto protested, "It's enough to defeat Voldemort as a baby, but now that they knew he was still around and I killed him? I don't want to be this… Girl-Who-Lived!"

"But you are, Callisto Azalea." Sirius said sternly, "Azzie, look at me. This is going to be difficult, for sure, but you're safe now. No more worrying about Death Eaters. You've got Moony and me to watch over you. You don't have to do everything anymore, alright?"

"But… you did just say that Fudge and D-Dumbledore had something planned. You might not be able to-"

"Hush," Sirius interjected. "Maybe we won't be able to fight every fight for you, Azzie, but Moony and I will always be looking out for you. You can be sure about that."

…