-In pools of sorrow, there are always waves of joy
-It takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire life to forget them.
-When life hands you lemons say, "Hey! I like those! What else you got?"
An old man in a long purple robe with bright crescent moons strode with quick, brisk steps, aware that he was moments away from changing a young girl's life forever. Although he had done this many times before, (although some outcomes varied) the simple detail that a young person's life was turning toward a completely different direction in a single moment was never forgotten. He knocked on the door, not knowing that his life would be changed forever as well.
His silver, half moon spectacles glittered in the blazing hot sun, but this man seemed oblivious to the heat. It was unusual because, after all, he was wearing heavy robes. He seemed to concentrate on one thing only: that door.
A plump lady with wild, red hair opened up the door, appraising the man cautiously. "I'm not interested in anything you're selling, sorry," she said, guessing the strange wardrobe was a publicity stunt prepossessed to promote a new product. Not the best idea.
The man chuckled, smiling. "I'm afraid I'm not here to sell you anything today, Miss Melody Pennant. I do, however, want something of yours."
Melody stiffened up, but couldn't help wondering how he knew her name. "I regret to inform you that our budget is tight as it is, and making a donation is simply impossible, sir."
The man chuckled again. "I believe I made an appointment with you, if I'm not mistaken?"
The woman's face changed completely into an apologetic look. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't know it was you. Do come in," she said, moving to the side to make room.
As she settled behind her desk in her closet-like office, the old man took a seat in an uncomfortably hard chair. He didn't notice at all, though. "I believe we have an important matter to discuss, Miss Melody. I'm here to discuss Alicia Cunning's arrangements for the future."
"What exactly do you mean?" she asked curiously. She was as confused as when she had received his letter, asking for an appointment. This man couldn't get any vaguer, Melody thought.
"I have come here to offer Alicia a place at my school."
"Which would be…?"
"It is called Hogwarts. She is not a very normal child. Here," he said, handing her a piece of paper. Melody took the paper and read it, although it seemed as though she skimmed it. This would not be a surprise to Dumbledore, for Miss Melody was an extremely carefree person, which doesn't come in handy when you run an orphanage.
The man decided it was unnecessary to ask about Alicia's background, because he already knew everything there was to know—or, at least anything this woman could tell him. This girl was quite ordinary, besides for one fact: she was a witch.
"Oh, my, where are my manners? I completely forgot your name. What would it be?" she asked, suddenly horrified at the fact that she didn't remember to ask.
"No matter. My name is Albus Dumbledore," he said, smiling.
"Would you like to talk to Alicia? I haven't mentioned you to her, of course…"
"Yes, I would like that very much, thank you."
She led him into a very large room with toys all over the place. It was dusty, dull, and somehow, damp. Alicia was sitting in a circle playing patty-cake with each of the girls in the circle.
"She's a people-person. All the kids seem to love her. A very likable person, oh yes. I like her very much, myself. She's helpful, too. Downright useful when I have my hands full."
Dumbledore observed her closely. She had long, black hair, bright brown eyes, and a bright smile. She sure smiled a lot, regardless of her surroundings. When Dumbledore arrived closer, she instinctively turned around to face a very old man's long legs, deserting her playful game. She rose her glowing, but now, alarmed eyes up to the weary man, and then stood.
"Hello, may I help you?" she asked politely.
"Hello yourself, I have come to talk to you about a school you have been accepted into. May we go into your room?"
"You're taking me away? I don't want to leave everyone!" A tear slid down her now pale cheek. She now looked angry, instead of happy, like every other child Dumbledore had talked to. He was slightly taken aback. A small girl beside her with springy curls began to cry silently. Melody picked her up and said, "Listen to the nice man, Alicia. Go on," she gestured to a room, Alicia's obviously.
Dumbledore sat on a chair in the corner of the room while Alicia sat on her bed. "Please don't take me away," she said simply. The tears were gone, and replaced with a look of worry. Dumbledore's heart melted for the child. She obviously didn't want to leave the children alone.
"Please allow me to explain," he began and started to explain everything. She sat there, listening patiently, hanging on to every single word. Finally, when he was finished, she said, "But all of the children—they need me. I'll miss them and they'll miss me."
Dumbledore understood. "You may visit during Christmas, and on summer holidays, too."
"That still won't be enough," she said, and to Dumbledore's surprise, her tone had not risen to a yell. "What if one of them gets sick? Or get adopted?"
"You may send letters."
"How? I doubt there is a postal service and mailman there."
"In the wizarding world, we send letters by owls. There are plenty of school owls at Hogwarts. However, I will not force you to go to this school. I do recommend you do, though, for very few people have this amazing gift."
Alicia thought a moment, and nodded in assent. Dumbledore smiled pleasantly and began to rise. "I will come to pick you up here on August twenty-fifth to leave for Diagon Alley," he added. Alicia nodded, her mind swirling about thoughts of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, dress robes, and Dumbledo—Professor Dumbledore. Her sleep was haunted with mixed nightmares of going, and not going. Both were equally terrible, for her mind was not made up. Each seemed frightening to her. If she stayed, she might regret it. If she went, she might miss the children. There was no going back now, though. She already accepted.
