A/N: Greetings, my wonderful viewers! I hope that you are all having a lovely day / night. :D
Now, in case any of you are wondering, I just recently found myself getting into the "Harry Potter" fandom. That's right, I am twenty-one-years-old and I just became interested in it. Fortunately, it has been keeping me occupied during quarantine and I was actually able to come up with this story!
Before we begin, allow me to explain: I am rewriting the entire "Harry Potter" movie, showing what it would be like if another character—a.k.a Indigo Dumbledore—were to be added in. Of course, I do not own any of the "Harry Potter" films / books. I only own my OC, as well as all of the additional scenes that I will be inserting all throughout the story. :)
I can already tell that at least one of you is wondering this, "Since you're rewriting 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,' does that mean you will be rewriting all of the other movies, too?" ... And the answer is yes. I am planning to rewrite the entire film series; but, for obvious reasons, this is going to take plenty of time. So, please understand that my work will require patience.
Also, please keep in mind that I am handling schoolwork and other responsibilities on the side of this. As much as I would like to update as frequently as possible, my chapters genuinely take time to mentally prepare and piece together. With that being said, I would highly appreciate it if you all understood this: I don't have any specific update schedule. I will be writing whenever I have the time / energy, as well as posting whenever I find myself completing a chapter. So, it all comes back to having patience. I'm definitely looking forward to writing this story, as well as all of the others that will follow it ... but it will take time. Understand that, please. :)
Next, I would like to say that I don't have any particular page limit for chapters. Some chapters might be long, while others appear to be shorter. It all depends on what I'm planning for every individual one. Thus, if any of you find yourselves thinking about the length of this first chapter, just remember that every chapter will be different. Again, some will be longer and others will be shorter.
Note: The series is currently going to be rated "T," but it might become rated "M" sooner or later.
Note #2: Since this series will be following the movies, my writing will be revolving around appearances / actions from the movies. For example, I know that Harry Potter has green eyes in the books ... but in the movies, he has blue. So, in my stories, he will have blue eyes.
Note #3: I am not from the UK. So, if I use any British terms incorrectly, please forgive me. I'm doing my best! XD
Keep in mind, feedback is highly appreciated and I look forward to it very much! Please share your thoughts and don't hold back! You can post them in the reviews or share them with me through PMs! Again, I am always excited to hear what you all think! :D :D
Anyway, I believe that's all I wanted to say at this time! It's time to sit back, relax, and enjoy the first chapter of my retelling of "the Sorcerer's Stone."
Happy reading, my fellow viewers! :)
Indigo Dumbledore and the Sorcerer's Stone
Chapter One: The Rescued Girl
As I delivered another spoonful of my green soup to my mouth, I listened to the surprisingly calm bustle of the evening. It was a rare evening for the Leaky Cauldron. Normally, as suppertime rolled around, the place would be overflowing with behavior that wasn't exactly "family-friendly." There would usually be drunkards demanding for refills and starting arguments, which would then lead to platters being shattered, fists being thrown, or somebody being zapped into the wall by another person's wand. There would also be at least one or two groups of underaged witches and wizards attempting to stroll in to sneak some alcoholic beverages; and, of course, I can't leave out the intense make out sessions that would often break out in the corners of the establishment. Whether they took place between actual couples or two individuals who had literally just met, I never bothered to ask. However, I did have to make sure that none of them tried to sneak upstairs to have a little romp in the sheets ... and I wasn't always successful. Overall, nine times out of ten, that was how the later hours of the evening would be expected to play out.
Although, this particular evening was different. There weren't any attempts to engage in sexual activity—nor were there any drunkards, fights, make out sessions, or underaged individuals. Instead, almost all of the tables were accompanied by witches and wizards that appeared to be spending time with friends or family. Multiple conversations and delighted chortles filled the establishment, blended with the additional sounds of glasses clinking and silverware sliding across plates.
The Leaky Cauldron was a dim and shabby pub, intertwined with an inn. The ground level consisted of solid walls that were decorated almost entirely in framed photos, each one revolving around a different type of historical event or invention from the wizarding world. There were also pillars that were constructed out of aged stone, creating small corridors and keeping some of the tables more spread out from others. Then, there was the furniture: mismatched chairs and wobbly stools that needed to be repaired or replaced quite frequently. They accompanied small, wooden, circular tables and lined the bar. Meanwhile, in the direct center of the pub, there was a much bigger table that was in the shape of a rectangle. Lanterns were also scattered in various places, providing candlelight that illuminated the establishment like a dungeon. Finally, aside from the wooden staircase that led up to the second floor, there was a humongous fireplace that was always holding a crackling fire—even during the summer. That included today; but luckily, the Leaky Cauldron was pretty drafty on the inside. So, having a constant fire was never really an issue.
According to a nearby clock on the wall, the time was nearing eight o'clock. It was the twenty-second day of June—a Tuesday. For as long as I could remember, I had been a master at keeping track of the days of the week—despite how it didn't really matter. After all, my daily schedule rarely had any tweaks that I needed to accommodate to.
Currently, I was sitting at a circular table that was stationed directly below one of the fairly large windows of the pub. It was nestled perfectly between the left end of the fireplace and one of the stone pillars, the staircase being just a step or two away from it. This meant that the table was placed further away from the rest of the seating arrangements, but was still able to be seen by customers. It was one of the few tables that Tom—the barkeeper and landlord—kept reserved for employees.
Across from me, Odette Warren sat. The two of us had been best friends ever since we first met back in school—me having been in my second year and her in her third. She had clear skin that was the same shade of white as a lily, along with pretty, sleek, platinum blonde hair. Normally, it would flow all the way down to the area of her back that was directly above her tailbone, its ends tightened in a bunch of much more noticeable curls. Although, on this particular night, Odette had her hair pulled back in a messy bun that somehow managed to still look stylish—even with some strands poking out and sticking to her forehead. Overall, with her pink lips, button nose, and very skinny build, she looked more like a princess than a witch; but that was if nobody paid too much attention to her eyes. They were like two pools of magma—a vibrant shade of orange that definitely stood out from the rest of her pale features. They always looked like they were on the verge of glowing—not exactly "subtle" or "delicate." Still, regardless of how spooky they probably looked at first glance, they managed to appear just as pretty as the rest of her.
Ninety-five percent of the time, me and Odette were fortunate enough to work the same shifts. She made any inconveniences that we got far more tolerable, as well as provided me and Tom with pleasant conversations. In addition to that, Tom was incredibly friendly—almost like a grandfather. He was the type of boss who openly allowed his employees to sit down and take a load off. Typically, this was allowed whenever (a) business appeared to be slow, or (b) all of the customers were taken care of and nobody was requesting anything new. So, during our shifts, it wasn't uncommon for Odette and I to take a seat at one of the reserved tables. We would socialize, enjoy small meals, and sometimes even show each other harmless tricks with our wands. Sometimes, it didn't even feel like we were on duty.
Tonight, Odette and I had already managed to serve all of the customers. So, after getting our usual permission from Tom, the two of us didn't think twice before taking our seats at our usual table. We decided to use this as an opportunity to eat, courtesy of how the Leaky Cauldron had been bustling around lunchtime and we hadn't been able to savor a proper meal break as the result of it.
I had a medium bowl of pea soup—leftovers from yesterday, to be more precise. A customer had ordered it by mistake, only to realize that they had confused it with the Leaky House Soup; and I ended up making the decision to keep the bowl of pea soup for myself since the customer turned out to be one of those people who feared this specific dish. In the wizarding world, multiple recipes were known to have some type of negative effect if they weren't prepared correctly. In the case of pea soup, it would "bite back," which was why it was known to make so many witches and wizards uneasy; but everybody at the Leaky Cauldron—including myself—knew how to prepare it just right. Thus, I had no problem with eating the green soup. I also had a goblet of pumpkin juice on the side of it.
Odette, on the other hand, was having a slice of steak and kidney pie. She had brought it from home; and with it, she was also savoring a glass of brandy.
For the past fifteen minutes, we had been caught up in socializing and filling our stomachs. In fact, the two of us had just gotten done settling down from laughing at a joke that Tom had told the day before—something about trolls and dishes. Afterwards, Odette used her fork to cut off another piece of her pie. She then delivered it to her mouth and proceeded to chew. It didn't take long before her shoulders almost seemed to melt in bliss.
"Mmm...! I have to say, Indigo, it really does seem like Luke has been giving us a run for our money lately! Us and Tom!" Odette said, making sure to hide her mouth from view as she chewed. "His recreations of the Leaky Cauldron's recipes have been pretty damn spectacular lately—even without the magic!"
I replied wittily, "I'll believe that when I have a taste of it for myself!"
Odette chuckled and gestured to her plate. With that, I sat my spoon down on the napkin that was beside my bowl and picked up the fork that I hadn't bothered to use yet. I used it to pierce one of the exposed chunks of meat that was poking out from one of the corners of Odette's pie. Then, after giving the sauce a chance to drip, I guided the fork up to my mouth and placed the warm piece of meat inside. I detected the rich flavor of gravy almost instantly, which was soon followed by the taste of black pepper and onions. Every time that I chewed, the meat only seemed to grow juicier. At last, I swallowed.
My eyebrows lifted, the fork lightly dancing around in my fingertips.
I waited a couple of seconds to give myself the chance to process the taste a little longer. Then, with the flavor still coating my taste buds, I redirected my gaze back over to Odette. She had her hands folded underneath her chin and she was flashing a cocky grin in my direction, as if she was silently saying, "I told you so."
"Okay ... you got me. I'll admit, it's not bad for a Muggle." I confessed, unable to stop the playfulness from sinking into my words as I sat my fork back down. "I still don't believe that his cooking is as good as yours, mine, or Tom's ... but it's still pretty damn tasty. Luke's got some talent."
Luke is Odette's husband—a Muggle that she had first encountered back when they were fourteen. Even after he had discovered that she was involved in the world of wizardry, Luke's feelings for Odette never appeared to waver. If anything, they only seemed to grow stronger. So, the two of them got married almost immediately after graduation and had been together ever since.
"I really should've seen this coming from him sooner. He's a master at cooking things up in the bedroom, after all." Odette said, not even bothering to mask the naughtiness in her voice as she stuffed her right cheek with another chunk of meat from her dish. "It just makes sense that he would be the same in the kitchen."
I nearly choked on my latest sip of pumpkin juice, quickly lowering the goblet from my mouth. Odette nearly snorted at the sight, immediately covering her mouth with her hand in order to prevent me from seeing the piece of food that she was in the middle of chewing. I then crinkled my nose and gave a somewhat awkward laugh, using the tips of my fingers to wipe away some stray drips of the sugary beverage from my lips.
"What?!" Odette inquired, laughing a bit. "We're best friends, aren't we? There ain't nothing wrong with best friends talking to each other about the act of making love!"
"If you don't mind, Odette, I would actually prefer to keep at least some things a mystery between me and Luke." I retorted with a faint chuckle, lightly swooshing my pumpkin juice around in its goblet. "How's he been, by the way?"
Odette had just finished settling down and swallowing. She then proceeded to use her fork to cut through another section of her pie.
"He's been well. He loves his new job—keeps bringing home unfamiliar faces for me to meet. Just this month, I've come face to face with more Muggles than I can count!"
"Yeah, that definitely sounds like Luke. Always a social butterfly."
"It's one of the main things that made me fall in love with him."
I lifted my goblet and took another slurp of my pumpkin juice, watching as Odette finished sawing through her next chunk of meat. She guided it up to her mouth and stuffed it into her right cheek, somehow managing to maintain a ladylike appearance. Afterwards, as she proceeded to chew, a smirk broke out across Odette's lips.
"Now, since we are on the topic of men..."
I swallowed what was in my mouth, unable to resist giving my eyes a slight roll.
"Oh my Merlin. Here we go again..."
"Come on, hear me out." Odette said as she sat her silverware down and folded her arms neatly on the table, her attention never breaking away from me. "When are you going to find yourself a good man?"
I furrowed my brow at her, setting my goblet back down beside my bowl.
"You do realize that if I had a single Knut for every time that you asked me that question, I would be the wealthiest witch in all of existence, right?"
Odette breathed another small laugh. "I'm being serious."
"So am I." I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. "Need I remind you that I just turned twenty-four? Two weeks ago, don't you recall? I am more than certain that I have plenty of time to come across a suitable gentleman."
"I think that you're forgetting the fact that we work at the Leaky Cauldron—one of the most popular taverns in the entire world of wizardry. Dozens of men walk in and out of here every single day." Odette pointed out. "And ninety-nine percent of the time, every last one of them are practically drooling at the sight of us."
I knew that I couldn't deny that. "You know ... sometimes, I'm convinced that the main reason behind why Tom has you and I working so many of the same shifts is because we appear to draw the interest of so many customers."
"As much as I agree with that, don't try changing the subject."
I exhaled through my nose. "You're overlooking it again, Odette."
She blinked. "Overlooking what?"
"The fact that just because I enjoy taking a good risk from time to time, doesn't mean that I'm willing to date just anyone." I replied, shaking my head at her. "Seriously, a majority of the men that come in here are looking to either get drunk or laid. I don't want to get involved with somebody whose idea of fun is to get wasted every chance that they get and have as many one-night stands as possible."
"Not every man that comes in here has those intentions, Indigo."
I lowered my gaze down to my bowl, focusing on it. Then, with my arms remaining crossed, I extended the index finger of my right hand and watched as my spoon started to smoothly levitate just seconds later. It dipped into my pea soup and proceeded to stir in calm, circular motions all on its own.
"That's why I said a majority of them." I remarked, grumbling my words slightly.
"Well, what about tonight? There hasn't been any behavior like that." Odette said, in which she turned her head in the direction of all of the customers—at least two dozen of them, to be exact. "I'm sure that we could find you a fine suitor in this crowd. What about the one that's sitting at the bar?"
I decided to humor her, peeking over in the direction of the bar. Tom was in the middle of preparing a glass of sherry for the gentleman that was sitting there. He looked like he was in his mid-to-late thirties, possessing golden blonde hair and what looked like dark green eyes. Although, what really caught my attention in regards of this particular customer was that he was wearing a monocle and top hat.
"Odette, you can't be serious..." I said, flicking my attention back over to my best friend. "I don't mean to sound disrespectful in regards of our appropriate customers, but ... he looks like a descendent of Mr. Monopoly. Not exactly my type."
Amusement flickered across Odette's features. She returned my gaze, fighting back the urge to laugh again.
"And what type would that be exactly?"
I pursed my lips and hesitated for a moment, automatically seeing how that final sentence of mine had backfired.
"I'm ... not so sure. I'll let you know as soon as I figure that out."
"See, that's your problem right there." Odette declared with a snap of her fingers, a flame from a nearby lantern making her eyes look like dancing embers. "You can't even pinpoint the type of bloke that you fancy because you barely even try tossing your net out there to see what you can catch."
"You're making it sound as though I've never been on a date before." I retorted, just as my spoon withdrew itself from my bowl of pea soup and calmly retreated to its spot alongside my fork. "All through the years, you've sat me up on at least three or four blind dates a month. By this point, it wouldn't even surprise me if my history was as long as the Nile. Really, I'm almost one hundred percent certain that you play matchmaker more than every last Cherub combined."
Odette rolled her eyes playfully, making them look as if they were two balls of fire that had just gotten done summersaulting.
"Hey, I'm just trying to help you find Mr. Right."
In that moment, I couldn't resist becoming a little smug. "And how's that working out for ya?"
"Well, it would be a hell of a lot easier if you actually worked with me." Odette remarked, in which she straightened herself back up in her chair and retrieved her glass of brandy. "Seriously, Indigo, the last time that you were involved in something that was the slightest bit close to an actual relationship was back when we were still students. Graduation was years ago and I want to make sure that you get to experience your wedding day before you become an old maid."
A sarcastic smile formed on my face as I retaliated, "Thanks, Odette. You always know the right words to say."
Odette took a sip of her beverage, right before she placed her glass back down on the table. However, before she could try opening her mouth to say something back, our conversation was interrupted by the sound of another voice.
"Yoo-hoo! Waitress!"
Odette and I turned our heads in the direction of the voice almost immediately. It belonged to a gentleman who—thanks to his silver hair, matching stubble, wrinkly skin, and square spectacles—looked like he was in his early-to-mid seventies. He was sitting at another circular table on the opposite side of the establishment, joined by a bleached blonde woman with puckered lips, a feathered hat, and an oversized broach that was shaped like a flower. If I had to guess, she was probably his wife. The gentleman had an arm raised and was waving it around, his gaze locked in mine and Odette's direction. He was also wearing a large smile that probably would've been more welcoming if it wasn't for the fact that he was missing several teeth. Still, it was nice to have some customers who weren't obnoxious or perverted for a change.
Before I could react, Odette beat me to it. She stood up from her chair and returned the elderly man's smile.
"I'll be right there, sir! ... We'll continue this when I get back."
That second sentence was directed towards me and was followed by a wink. Afterwards, Odette twisted herself perfectly on her heels and began to walk off in the direction of the elderly pair. My eyes followed her as she went, easily spotting her tattoo since the pastel blue dress that she was wearing was fairly low-cut in the back. The tattoo was a small pair of Pegasus wings that were placed directly between Odette's shoulder blades—remarkably detailed and printed in emerald-colored ink.
Shortly after Odette made it over to the other side of the room, I witnessed a short exchange between her and the elderly customer. It was then followed by an empty glass softly floating up from the table and into Odette's hand, indicating that the gentleman must've been asking for a refill. By that point, I had dropped my attention back down to my bowl of pea soup, retrieved my spoon, and started to feed myself once more. Although, my brain was still caught up in thinking about everything that Odette had said.
Odette really was the greatest friend that any witch or wizard could ask for. In regards of our personalities, the two of us were a lot alike; but if there was one main difference that definitely stood out between us, it was that Odette was far more likely to go along with just about anything—especially if it meant trying something new or avoiding some type of conflict. She was the type of person who went with the flow quite often, never really seeing the harm in going along with something that sounded like it had been at least somewhat thought out. Meanwhile, I was the more stubborn and alert one. If I didn't like something, I was rarely able to hold my tongue back—no matter how hard I tried.
Of course, I loved Odette ... but when it came to the topic of dating, I wasn't the slightest bit convinced that she understood where I was coming from. Finding a significant other wasn't easy—not even in the world of wizardry. If anything, the process was much more complicated for us than what it was for Muggles; and at this point of my life, I genuinely couldn't see myself coming across a man that would've been willing to make a commitment. All I knew was this: whoever my other half turned out to be, he couldn't be a Muggle. It wasn't like I had anything against Muggles—because I didn't. In fact, whenever I wasn't handling a shift at the Leaky Cauldron, I enjoyed going out and engaging in activities among the non-magic folk—shopping, trips to the theatre, and the list could go on for miles. However, by marrying a Muggle, it would mean exposing them and possibly others to our world. That was dangerous for various reasons ... and I honestly considered it to be a miracle that Odette was able to handle it. For me, it wasn't even an option to consider.
Suddenly, I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of somebody sitting down across from me. I lifted my head back up, only to see that Odette had returned. As soon as she finished scooting herself back in, she picked up her glass and took the final swig of brandy that it contained. Then, with a pleased exhale, she placed the empty glass back down beside her plate and used her wrist to wipe her lips.
"Ahh, that hit the spot. Now, where were we?"
I swallowed my latest spoonful of pea soup and offered her a dry grin.
"You were going on about me being an old maid by the time that I get married."
Odette chuckled, reaching a hand across the table and placing it on top of my free one. As this happened, a much more sincere smile formed on her face—totally contradicting with the wise smirk that she was known for.
"Ah, right. Listen, Indigo..." She spoke with pure honesty, staring directly into my eyes. "You are seriously one of the smartest, most beautiful women that I know. You work harder now than a majority of others from our kind do in their entire lifetime. For as long as I've known you, you've always been incredibly bold and diligent—an amazing person. I just want to see you with somebody who makes you happy the same way that Luke makes me happy. You deserve such a thing, after all."
"I appreciate those thoughts of yours, Odette. I really do." I said, my smile now appearing to be more genuine. "Although, from here on out ... I think that the best course of action is for us to wait and see what happens. When the time is right, I'm sure that a decent bloke will come along."
In that moment, Odette's typical smirk reappeared. A playful sparkle also shot through her eyes.
"He better! That arse of yours is far too sexy to go to waste."
That time, I couldn't resist laughing at least a little bit. I shook my head in amusement and gave Odette's leg a swift, harmless kick underneath the table. At the same time, she withdrew her hand from mine and proceeded to laugh along.
Just then, after another five or so seconds, the unmistakable sound of what was most definitely the main door's squeaky hinges filled the air. Odette and I knew that sound like the back of our hands. We almost immediately redirected our attention over to the Leaky Cauldron's front entrance—just in time to witness a new group of customers walk in and have the heavy door slam shut behind them. At first glance, it was easy to tell that they were a family from a middle class background—a man, a pregnant woman, two teenage boys, and a little girl that looked no older than six. They all had jet-black hair and skin that was as pale as snow.
The woman had her hands folded on top of her bloated stomach, definitely appearing to be at least five months into her pregnancy. Meanwhile, the boys were whispering to each other, seeming to be caught up in some type of conversation. Lastly, the gentleman was holding the little girl's hand and glancing around the establishment in an evident attempt to locate some service.
In that moment, I knew that it was time for me and Odette to get back to work. It was obvious that she must've been thinking the same thing—because seconds after we noticed the customers, we ended up glancing back at each other and saying simultaneously, "It's go time."
"Girls!" Tom called out from behind the bar almost immediately after that.
Odette called back, "We're on it, Tom!"
She quickly pierced one of the final pieces of meat from her pie with her fork, guided it up to her mouth, and stuffed it into her right cheek. Then, she practically jumped up from her seat. She chewed as this happened, as well as worked on smoothing out any wrinkles that had formed on her dress or apron. Finally, upon swallowing, Odette didn't think twice before gracefully heading off in the direction of the family—her silver pumps clicking against the floor with every step that she took. At the same time, I also rose from my chair and proceeded to collect our platters, silverware, and cups from the table. I balanced them quickly—yet carefully—on my forearm, right before I strode over to the bar. Tom grinned warmly at me, already holding a couple of worn out menus that he had gathered from behind the counter.
"How was the break, Indigo?" he asked.
"Just as pleasant as always, Tom. Thanks." I replied, just as I sat the dirty dishes down on the bar and traded them for the menus.
I spun around, witnessing Odette guide the family over to the north end of the long table. As she did this, I easily heard her say, "Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. My name is Odette and I will be one of your servers this evening."
The gentleman made sure to pull a chair out for his wife, pushing it back in after she had managed to sit down. The two teenage boys had already taken seats on the same side of the table, still caught up in socializing with each other. The little girl, on the other hand, clambered up into the chair that was across the table from her mother. Her father joined her on the same side after making sure that his wife was comfortable. Until now, I hadn't realized that this family consisted of grey and china-blue eyes.
"Would you all like a couple of minutes to look over the menu? Or would you rather order at this time?" Odette asked.
The woman looked up from her protruding stomach, flashing an understandably tired grin as she responded with, "We would like to look over the menu first, please."
I, having already seen this coming, began to pass out the tattered menus at an impressive speed. It wasn't common for customers to want to order their meals right off the bat.
"Of course. Whenever you're ready to order, please don't hesitate to let one of us know." Odette said, sounding just as sweet as she looked.
"Miss?"
Odette glanced over her shoulder, making eye contact with another customer—a shriveled man that looked like a taller version of a leprechaun. He had elf-like ears, an unbelievably pointy chin, and a bright red beard that had some specks of grey in it. He was also holding up an empty pint.
"Pardon me, but can I get another pint of Butterbeer?"
"Certainly, mister." Odette replied, right before she took the empty pint from his surprisingly small hand and began to walk over in the direction of the bar. "Hey, Tom! Another Butterbeer, would you?"
"I'm on it!" Tom confirmed, giving a quick thumbs up.
I reached into one of the pockets of my black apron and pulled out a small notepad. Then, after giving it a quick and small toss up into the air, I snapped my fingers. I kept my gaze locked on the notepad as I did this, witnessing it automatically begin to levitate. It then proceeded to flip open, turning its pages all on its own until it made it to its next clear slip. When it was finished, it continued to effortlessly hover above my shoulder as I stood at the head of the long table. All the while, I could hear the sounds of bottles tapping together and liquid being poured from behind the bar's counter.
"How about we start this evening with beverages?" I suggested politely. "What can I get for all of you?"
The woman was the first to speak, "An iced tea would be lovely."
"An iced tea. You got it." I said, taking a brief peek down at her ballooned stomach. "I also believe that a congratulations is in order."
"Oh, how kind you are, dear. Thank you very much."
Just then, the little girl spoke up, practically jittering with excitement.
"Mommy and Daddy went to the doctor's yesterday for a checkup! They found out that the baby is a girl! I'm going to have a little sister of my very own!"
I breathed a small laugh. "Is that so?"
The little girl nodded enthusiastically. "Mm-hm, mm-hm! The doctor said that she's supposed to come in October! I'm hoping that she comes before Halloween! I want to be able to help Mommy pick out a costume for her!"
In that moment, the gentleman sighed and placed one of his strong hands delicately on top of the small girl's head.
"Now, now, Arabelle. Calm down. The last thing that you need is to bump your noggin on the table from nodding so hard like that." He then glanced over at me, offering a somewhat sheepish grin. "Our apologies."
"Oh, there's certainly no need for any apologies, sir." I retorted, shaking my head. "I think that she's a delight."
One of the teenage boys—the slightly shorter one with grey eyes—barked out a laugh, folding his arms on the table in front of him.
"Well, if you want, you can have her for some Sickles! Or, perhaps, just a couple of Knuts!"
"Oh, shush, Clyde! That's not funny! Watch your tongue!" hissed the woman, who didn't hesitate to give the grey-eyed boy—Clyde, apparently—a stern slap on the thigh. "And what did I say about putting elbows on the table? It's impolite!"
The tips of Clyde's ears began to turn pink right before my eyes, no doubt from embarrassment. He didn't think twice before removing his arms from the table. However, as this happened, the other boy—the taller one with china-blue eyes—failed to stifle some laughter of his own.
"Hell, if you ask me, she could have her for free!"
The woman leaned forward as much as she possibly could in her chair, looking past Clyde and piercing the other teenage boy with a serious stare.
"Bruce, don't make me reach over there and pinch your ear!"
By this point, the two boys were nudging each other's shoulders in amusement and continuing to chuckle a little under their breath. Meanwhile, the little girl—Arabelle—was squinting at them from across the table, her nose crinkled in distaste.
"Bogey-heads!" she spat.
The woman tried to speak again, "Arabelle—"
Clyde interrupted, blurting out, "Weasel face!"
Another smack was delivered to his thigh by none other than the woman.
"Clyde! What did I just say?!"
"Werewolf slobber!" Arabelle proclaimed, her attention still locked entirely on her brothers.
Bruce fired back immediately, "Troll breath!"
The woman squeezed her eyes shut and ran a hand through her curly hair, her face burning in exasperation.
"Michael, please talk to your kids!"
"Don't worry, Savannah! I got this!"
I straightened my lips, remaining where I was at the head of the table. Normally, in moments like this, I would've walked away for at least a couple of minutes in order to give the situation a chance to defuse; but since there were no other customers that appeared to be needing any additional service for the time being, I figured that it would've saved me some time to just stay where I was. Plus, this situation didn't even begin to compare to all of the others that I had encountered over the years.
Suddenly, as the three siblings continued to fling childish insults back and forth, I could've sworn that I noticed something move from the corner of my eye. I turned my head in the direction of one of the windows—a smaller one that was placed almost directly beside the pub's main entrance. As soon as my eyes landed on it, I saw something that I wasn't expecting. There was a dark brown owl perched on the windowsill, staring directly at me from the opposite side of the glass. It was as if it was observing my every move; and at the exact moment that it noticed me looking at it, the owl didn't hesitate to spread its wings. It leapt away from the windowsill and soared off, disappearing from view.
I cocked an eyebrow, unable to tell what that feathered creature had been up to. However, since owls just so happened to be one of the most common animals in the world of wizardry, it didn't take long before I ended up pushing what I had just witnessed to the back of my mind. After all, for all I knew, it could've just been out for an evening fly.
"Okay, enough!" exclaimed the gentleman, whose name turned out to be Michael. "The next person who spats an insult is going to be the lucky one that's cleaning out all of the cauldrons down at the shop for the entire month of July!"
I redirected my gaze back over to the family of five, witnessing Bruce, Clyde, and Arabelle practically race each other to see who could be the first one to shut their mouths. Upon spotting the owl, I had tuned out all of their bickering—despite how I hadn't necessarily been trying to. Now, the three siblings were looking down at the table, obviously not wanting to make eye contact with their father.
"Thank Merlin, it's about time...!" scolded Savannah—the woman. "The three of you know better than to behave like that—especially in public...!"
"Sorry, Mom..." Clyde, Bruce, and Arabelle said in perfect unison.
Although, their tones were clearly different. Arabelle sounded genuinely apologetic, while Clyde sounded humiliated and Bruce was clearly still caught up in feeling annoyed from all of the prior comments.
Savannah pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. At the same time, Michael shook his head in disapproval. Then, a couple of seconds later, he flicked his attention back over to me and offered a smile that was much more sympathetic than his previous one—as if I was a homeless kitchen that was drenched in rain.
"Please excuse our children. My wife and I understand that they can get pretty rowdy at times. I can assure you though, this family doesn't mean to cause any disturbances whatsoever."
I took a quick scan at the three children, seeing that they were now trying to distract themselves by looking over the menus. Afterwards, I made eye contact with Michael again ... and I couldn't help but let out a small, quick, breathy snicker.
"I would hardly call this a 'disturbance,' sir. When you work in a place like this, you see and hear everything. Trust me, your children haven't bothered me at all." I said with pure honesty, right before I turned my head to check my floating notepad. "Now, I have your wife down for an iced tea. What beverage can the Leaky Cauldron provide you with this evening, sir?"
"A Swott Malt Whisky would be splendid, if you would." Michael replied, relief sweeping across his features as he then looked over at his daughter. "What about you, sweet pea? What would you like to drink?"
Arabelle lifted her head, a flicker of an angelic grin appearing on her face—more than likely because her father had addressed her by a nickname. Her response came just as sweetly, "Pumpkin juice, please!"
I examined my notepad again, watching as the words Swott Malt Whisky and Pumpkin Juice appeared as soon as they left the mouths of the customers. They were listed directly below Iced Tea, as well as printed neatly in black letters. It was as if they were being written by an invisible force.
"Oh, pumpkin juice, eh? That's one of my favorites." I said.
Arabelle's smile broadened at the sound of that, exposing a gap that she had in her mouth from a missing baby tooth.
"And what about the two of you?" I inquired, jumping my attention over to the teenage boys. "What drinks would you prefer?"
"Umm..." Clyde pursed his lips in thought, his gaze never leaving his menu. "I'll ... I'll just go with a Fishy Green Ale. Yeah, that sounds good."
Bruce jumped in after that, sounding a little bland as he said, "I'll take the same thing, thanks."
At the mention of Fishy Green Ale, I had no choice but to hold back the urge to crinkle my nose in disgust. I nearly shuddered, but managed not to do so. The Fishy Green Ale was one of the very few treats in the wizarding world that made the pit of my stomach feel as though it was being squeezed. I never dared to try it, only because one of the key ingredients were various fish eggs that were harvested from the sea. Apparently, according to Tom, they tasted almost exactly like blueberries; but that was something that I could only take his word on.
"Okay, I'll have those prepared for you all straight away." I said as I held my hand out and effortlessly caught my notepad as it fell into it. "In the meantime, go ahead and look over the menu to settle on which dishes you would like."
With that, I spun around on my heels and began to walk swiftly over to the bar. Tom was already staring at me, the look in his eyes making it perfectly clear that he was ready for whatever I was about to throw at him.
"All right, Tom," I huffed, tearing out the small slip of paper from my notepad. "I'm going to need an ice tea, a Swott Malt Whisky, two glasses of Fishy Green Ale, and a cup of pumpkin juice for the family of five."
Tom took the paper from me and winked as he said, "Consider it done, Indigo!"
Odette then appeared by my side, carrying a couple of dirty plates with an empty glass levitating after her. She puffed a few stray strands of her hair out of her face, definitely seeming to be grateful that she had worn it back in a bun today. Then, after setting the plates down on the counter, Odette ripped out another piece of paper from her own notepad and handed it over to Tom. The empty glass placed itself delicately down beside the other dishes as this happened.
"I'm also in need of a Berry Ocky Rot, a bowl of Leaky House soup, and a serving of Pickled Eels." Odette listed.
With a snap of his fingers, Tom replied with, "Leave it to me, Odette!"
Just then, the familiar sound of the front door's squeaky hinges filled the whole first floor again. I didn't think twice before looking back in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron's main entrance, only to see two more customers walk in and allow the door to slam shut behind them. They were a pair of adolescent girls who, in my opinion, didn't look any older than seventeen. One of them was noticeably from an Asian background, sporting hazel eyes, an olive complexion, and dark hair that was styled into long pigtails. The other girl, on the other had, had skin that was similar to dark chocolate and a pageboy haircut that exposed the variety of rhinestone piercings that she had in her ears. Her milky green eyes also contrasted with the rest of her features, standing out greatly.
Odette was the first to speak up, "Looks like we got two more."
"Yeah. Don't worry, I got this one."
I slipped my notepad back into the same pocket on my apron, using my opposite hand to give my best friend a reassuring slap on the shoulder. Then, with my pace remaining the same, I strode back over towards the main entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. I made sure to put on a welcoming grin, watching as the two girls put a stop to whatever conversation they'd been having in order to lock their attention on me. Beforehand, I had briefly overheard them saying something about a party and then proceeding to giggle over a name that sounded like it belonged to a boy. Clearly, these girls were close friends.
"Hello and welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. My name is Indigo—I'll be one of your servers this evening." I stated professionally, flicking my attention back and forth between the two new customers. "If you'll please follow me to a table."
I briefly noticed the Asian girl squint at me, suddenly looking like she was caught up in some sort of thought. Nonetheless, when she and the dark-skinned girl silently obliged and began to follow me, I internally exhaled—relieved that they didn't turn out to be a pair of adolescents who tried to present phony IDs right off the bat. It didn't take long before we made it over to a table either. It was another circular one, just a couple of steps away from the table that was occupied by the same elderly couple that Odette had served another sherry to previously.
"Now, go on and make yourselves comfortable." I said, watching as the two girls pulled their chairs out and proceeded to sit down. "I'll go fetch some menus for the two of you to look over."
With that, I briskly turned away and started to walk back over in the direction of the bar. Odette was standing there again, carrying another stack of dirty dishes with her lips still molded into a proper smile. Tom, on the other hand, had just accepted a couple of coins from Mr. Marrow—a regular customer who was mostly known for his job as a trainer for house-elves. It appeared that he was leaving.
Odette spoke, "It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Marrow."
"You as well, Odette. And thank you for another scrumptious evening, Tom."
Tom flashed one of his warm grins. "I couldn't do it without my employees, Axel. Be sure to stop by again soon, you hear?"
"Oh, you can most definitely count on that! Have a good evening now."
I made it over to the bar, just as Odette had sat the grimy platters down on the counter and Mr. Marrow had turned to make his leave. The two of us briefly made eye contact, resulting in him bowing his head with a pleasant smile.
"Goodbye, Indigo."
"See you again soon, Mr. Marrow." I said back, right before I flicked my gaze over to Tom. "Hey, Tom, I'm going to need another two menus."
"Certainly."
He retrieved the two menus almost right away. Then, after handing them over to me, he lifted a bronze tray up from somewhere behind the bar and placed it neatly on the counter. On it, there was the order that Odette had put in no more than two minutes previously—a chilled glass of Berry Ocky Rot, accompanied by a small plate of pickled eels and a medium-sized bowl of Leaky House soup that was nicely bubbling. Magic really was beneficial when working in a place that had as much activity as the Leaky Cauldron.
Odette took the bronze tray in her hands and proceeded to carry it off, no doubt to deliver the order to whichever customer had requested it in the first place. Meanwhile, I turned my back on the bar ... and that's when I noticed that the Asian girl was still staring at me. I nearly came to a halt from not expecting this, only to then witness her avert her eyes. Still, every few seconds, she would peek over and continue to observe me. As confusing as this was, I just assumed that she was waiting for me to arrive with the menus—that she was hungry and wanting to put her order in as soon as possible. So, I continued to move swiftly.
"Okay, here's your menus." I said as soon as I made it back over to the table, handing the worn out menus to the two girls. "Am I able to interest either of you in any beverages this evening?"
I made a move to retrieve my notepad from my apron, but stopped when the dark-skinned girl spoke up.
"Two Gillywaters, please. We're watching our figures for this party that's coming up in a few weeks."
"Very well." I gave a faint nod, deciding to not get my notepad since the order was pretty straightforward. "Two Gillywaters it is."
"Um, excuse me...?" The Asian girl suddenly began to speak, her eyes still squinted at me. "I'm just wondering ... did you say before that your name was—"
"I got an iced tea and a Swott Malt Whisky over here, along with two Fishy Green Ales and a cup of pumpkin juice!" Tom announced out of the blue.
I glanced over my shoulder, witnessing him place another tarnished tray down on the counter of the bar. On it, there were none other than the drinks that he had just finished listing—the order that I had given him for the family of five, to be more specific.
"Please hold that thought, Miss." I said as I turned back to the Asian girl, offering her and the dark-skinned customer another smile. "I'll be right back. In the meantime, look over the menu and figure out what you would like to eat."
Once again, for what felt like the millionth time that day, I twisted myself back around in the direction of the bar and strode over. I immediately noticed that the tea was served in a tall glass that was in the shape of a cylinder, filled almost entirely with chunks of ice that looked as if they were filled with mist. The Swott Malt Whisky, on the other hand, was in a sugared martini glass with a small stick of cinnamon poking out from it. Then, there were the two pints of Fishy Green Ale—vibrant green liquid with black straws and at least a dozen fish eggs perfectly aligned at the bottom. Lastly, there was the tin cup that must've held none other than Arabelle's pumpkin juice.
"Just another two hours before closing time, Indigo. Keep it up." Tom said encouragingly, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "You're doing great."
"I appreciate it, Tom. By the way, we're going to need two Gillywaters."
"Two Gillywaters, coming right up!"
I puffed a stray strand of my hair out of my face, right before I carefully picked up the bronze tray and balanced it in my right hand. Then, without any hesitation, I twirled myself around on my heels and paced back over to the head of the rectangular table. The family of five were still looking over their menus, as well as engaging in a few conversations with each other. Nevertheless, as soon as they noticed me, it didn't take long for them to silence themselves.
"All right, I got your drinks. An iced tea, a Swott Malt Whisky, two Fishy Green Ales, and—of course—a cup of pumpkin juice."
As I listed off the drinks, I handed them out to the appropriate customer. Arabelle was practically beaming at the mention of her beverage, taking a big slurp of it almost immediately after it was given to her. Meanwhile, Bruce used his straw to stir his Fishy Green Ale and Clyde scraped off some of the foam that was at the top of his with his finger. He then placed the same finger in his mouth, appearing to be satisfied with the taste as he sucked the foam off. Michael and Savannah were the only ones who didn't sample their beverages yet.
"Ah, thank you." Michael said kindly, just as I finished handing out the drinks.
"You're welcome, sir. Now, do you all know what dishes you would like yet?"
"We're actually still trying to figure that out, I'm afraid..." Savannah replied with a slightly sheepish note in her voice, right before she practically tore her attention away from her menu in order to look at me. "I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this, but due to my current state, I'm having a bit of trouble deciding what I should order. If it isn't too much trouble for me to ask, dear, what would you recommend?"
"There's no need to be embarrassed, Ma'am." I told her, shaking my head. "Here at the Leaky Cauldron, our most popular meal is the roasted hog. On a few occasions, I've got to experience it for myself and I can guarantee that it's very delicious. However, it's also quite hefty. With that being said, I would only recommend you requesting that order if you're craving a much larger meal. From my experience, the leftovers could last you somewhere around three-to-five weeks. Aside from that, if you're leaning more towards a smaller meal, I would suggest the game pie or possibly one of our many soups—preferably the Leaky, Leaky or Leaky House since they're not as thick as all of the others. And lastly, considering your unborn child, I would stay clear of the pickled eels."
"Thank you very, very much." Savannah said, now wearing a dimpled smile. "I'll definitely be keeping your input in mind. Although, if it's okay, we would still like another moment or two to keep looking over our menus."
"Of course. Don't worry, there's no rush."
Savannah and Michael lowered their gazes back down to their menus, while their children continued to enjoy their beverages. As this happened, I turned and noticed that Odette had just finished approaching me. She was carrying two glass mugs that were filled with a clear liquid. Judging by the noticeable blend of mint, ice chips, and slices of fresh cucumber, I could tell that it was Gillywater that was in both of the mugs. Tom must've given them to her, as well as told her who they were for.
Odette whispered to me, "Hey, I'll take care of these next few orders, okay? You can go clean up Mr. Marrow's table."
"You sure?" I asked just as quietly.
"Yeah, we'll need to make sure it's clean for another customer—just in case one comes in."
"All right, I'm on it. Just let me know if you need any assistance."
Odette gave a nod of acknowledgement, right before she walked away to deliver the Gillywater to the two girls. At the same time, I headed off in the opposite direction, approaching none other than the bar yet again. Once I made it, I sat the tarnished tray down on the counter and looked at Tom.
He spoke first, pushing his spectacles further up on the bridge of his nose as he said, "Let me guess ... you need a wet rag?"
"Yep, that's right." I replied.
Tom chuckled briefly. Then, he said, "Very well. Hold on a moment."
After that, he stepped somewhere behind the stone wall and vanished from view. I drummed my fingertips against the edge of the counter as I waited, unable to shake the thought of how that Asian girl seemed to be pretty fixated on me. Eventually, with the sound of a faucet now running somewhere behind the bar, I couldn't fight the urge to take another glance over my shoulder. I saw that the dark-skinned girl was talking to Odette, surely placing an order in; and the Asian girl was taking small sips of her Gillywater, using both hands to hold the glass mug. Although, sure enough, I was able to catch a glimpse of the Asian girl taking another peek in my direction. I managed to narrow my eyes at her in uncertainty, as if I was telepathically asking her why she kept staring at me. Nevertheless, not even a full second after she noticed me looking, the Asian girl was quick to avert her eyes once more.
Just then, at the sound of the faucet being turned off, I snapped out of my confused gaze and redirected my attention back around to what was in front of me. Tom reappeared with a damp rag in his hand, placing it in mine as soon as he made it back to his original spot.
"There you go."
I gave a flicker of a smile. "Thanks, Tom."
"Ah, Odette. Another order, I presume?"
"Yeah, it's for the two girls that just walked in." Odette replied, now standing alongside me since she must've walked over when I wasn't paying attention. "One wants a game pie with hot sauce and the other wants a bowl of pea soup with crackers."
"I'll get right on that!" Tom declared with a single, determined nod.
Odette leaned forward, arching her back as she folded her arms on the counter. It was as if she was a cat that had just woken up from a nap, clearly trying to lessen any possible discomfort that she was feeling in her muscles. Meanwhile, Tom had went straight to work, tossing his arms in every which direction and quickly gathering all of the dishes that would be needed for this next order. It was like he was an octopus, not missing a beat. Then, there was me—still standing where I was with the wet rag in my hand and caught up in wondering about that Asian girl.
"Hey, Odette...?" I spoke up after what felt like an eternity.
"Yeah?"
"By any chance, when you were taking that order from those two girls..." I paused, trying to find the right words to string together as I then made eye contact with my best friend. "Did either of them ... you know ... say anything about me?"
"What? ... No." Odette replied, cocking an eyebrow as her accent dripped with a mixture of honesty and confusion. "Why?"
I needed a moment to process her response. Afterwards, as if I was snapping myself out of some type of trance, I shook my head a little and did my best to offer Odette a reassuring grin. It was only a sliver, but it was still better than nothing.
"Oh, um ... no reason, don't worry. I better go clean up Mr. Marrow's table before any new customers come in."
I could tell by the look on Odette's face that she wasn't fooled. She was a master at being able to tell whenever something was on my mind. Nevertheless, before she could try opening her mouth to say anything back, I had already walked away.
As soon as I made it over to the table that Mr. Marrow had previously been sitting at, I noticed that he had been generous enough to leave a tip—just like he always did. Tonight, it was six Galleons that he had taken the liberty to arrange in a perfect stack. A glimmer of appreciation shot through my eyes, just as I picked the gold coins up and stuffed them into one of the pockets of my apron. I proceeded to stack the grubby dishes afterwards, doing my best to tune out the many questions that I had in regards of the Asian girl. Then, when I finished getting the dishes out of the way, I started wiping down the table with the damp rag.
As I did this, I could see my reflection. I had light tan skin that looked like it was made out of melted toffee, along with thick, wavy, dark brown hair that would normally reach all the way down to the middle of my shoulder blades. Although, on this particular evening, I had it pulled back into a decently tamed ponytail in order to prevent it from falling in my face as I worked. Next, there was my figure. I was five-foot-eight, possessing breasts that were the size of cantaloupes and a small waist that later expanded into a desirable set of hips. I also had a light layer of muscle covering my entire body, courtesy of how often I made sure to jog and practice various exercises. My face, on the other hand, was peppered with scatters of tiny freckles that were usually only noticeable whenever somebody was right up on me. Lastly, aside from my rosy lips and slightly upturned nose, I just so happened to have a pair of eyes that resembled two remarkably polished amethysts—a brilliant shade of purple. Overall, I found myself to be quite attractive and—by this point in my life—I was more than used to being a piece of eye candy.
I continued to scrub the table, making sure that I got rid of every last crumb and smudge that was there. However, it didn't take long before I found myself being unable to ignore a discussion that was taking place between the dark-skinned girl and her Asian friend. As a waitress, I never intentionally eavesdropped; but a majority of the Leaky Cauldron's customers rarely seemed to understand that they didn't need to speak as loudly as they did. Plus, the table that I was in the middle of cleaning wasn't that far from the table that was currently occupied by the two girls.
"So, I'm thinking of wearing that sparkly scarf with my new blouse. It'll go perfectly with my blue stilettos. I also have an appointment to get some highlights in my hair and..." The dark-skinned female, who had been the one that was speaking, suddenly stopped. "Uh, hello? ... Rika?"
The Asian girl—who now had the name Rika—sounded like she had just been dragged out of a deep thought.
"Oh ... sorry, Rachel. You were saying something about getting highlights?"
"What's gotten into you?" inquired Rachel, the dark-skinned girl. "Ever since we got here, it's like your mind has hopped on a broomstick and flown off to another planet. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah! Yeah, everything's fine! It's just ... I can't stop thinking about that waitress..."
Rachel surely arched an eyebrow. "Which one?"
"That one...! The one with the dark brown hair...!" Rika replied in a hushed tone, despite how she might as well have whispered at the same volume as a bullhorn. "I heard her correctly before, right? ... When we first walked in, she told us that her name was Indigo...?"
"Yeah...?" Rachel's voice was gradually becoming more confused. "Why?"
"I ... I think that she's Indigo Dumbledore!"
I nearly froze, my eyes growing a little at the mention of my name. I continued to look down at the table that I was stationed at, a piece of me hoping that what I'd just heard was nothing more than my ears playing tricks on me. After all, it had been a long shift and I was starting to feel a little fatigued; but deep down inside, I knew that there really was no point of hoping for something like that. The Asian girl clearly knew who I was.
"Indigo Dumbledore?!" Rachel blurted out not that long afterwards, sounding completely in disbelief. "You mean ... Albus Dumbledore's daughter?! Working in a place like this?! ... There's—there's no way...!"
Rika persisted eagerly, "I swear, Rachel, it is her! I can tell!"
"How?! ... Because of her name? There's probably plenty of people in the world who have the same one!"
"No, that's not it! ... Her scar! I saw her scar!" Rika whispered. "It was poking out from behind some of her hair! ... Rachel, it's her! The Rescued Girl!"
As soon as I heard the comment about my scar, my face almost twisted with a grimace. Through the reflection that was provided on the table, I could see it peeking out from behind a few pieces of hair that I had purposely left out of my ponytail in order to try keeping it hidden. It was a vertical scratch that went directly down the center of my right eye, no longer than the length of a pinky. It held tons of memories from my past—very few of them being good. Not only that, but it was also one of the main details of my appearance that often gave away my identity. I was the adopted daughter of Albus Dumbledore—one of the most legendary wizards in the entire universe of magic—and due to the backstory of how he had come to take me in, I became widely known as "the Rescued Girl."
"Nah...! No, that can't be...!" Rachel denied, right before there was the sound of somebody shifting in their seat. "Excuse me? Miss?"
I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that the dark-skinned girl had directed those final few words in my direction. I already had a hunch as to what was about to happen and—from all of my prior experiences—I knew that there was no use in trying to evade it. So, after straightening myself back up, I opened my eyes again and forced myself to put on the kindest smile that I could muster—even though it might've appeared as a little awkward for those who really took the time to look at it. Then, while leaving the wet rag and dirty dishes on Mr. Marrow's table for the time being, I slowly turned around to face the two girls. My hand moved instinctively, brushing the few pieces of hair out of my face and tucking them behind my ear since I no longer saw the point in trying to keep my scar hidden.
When Rika saw my face—or, more specifically, my scar—her jaw practically dropped all the way down to the floor and her hazel eyes looked like they were seconds away from bulging out of their sockets. Rachel, on the other hand, gasped in surprise and immediately flew her hands up to her mouth. It was like they were a pair of children that had just managed to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus coming down their chimney on Christmas Eve.
At last, I spoke, "Yes, can I help you?"
Rachel exhaled immediately, her hands almost trembling. "Oh—oh my wand! It—it really is you!"
"I told you that it was her, Rachel!"
The dark-skinned girl practically leapt up from her chair, almost making me jump. She was wearing a massive, toothy smile and what looked like glittery flecks had appeared in her pupils, shimmering like pieces of golden confetti. If I had to guess, that was something that happened whenever she got excited.
"You're really Indigo Dumbledore, aren't you?!" Rachel inquired, sounding just as delighted as she looked.
I rubbed the back of my neck as subtly as possible, still maintaining my own smile.
"Guilty as charged."
"Holy shit...!" Rachel breathed, hands still being held up to her face. "Oh, sweet Merlin, I can't believe it!"
In that moment, the Asian girl followed her friend's example and quickly shot up from her seat. Until now, I had failed to notice that the bottoms of her pigtails had started to glow—as if they were a pair of upside down candlesticks. She was noticeably just as thrilled as Rachel, wearing a large and dimpled grin of her own. Clearly, these two girls still had another year of school to finish. If they didn't learn how to control these little "unique" abilities of theirs, I didn't see how they expected themselves to be able to get away with blending in among Muggles.
"Miss—Miss Dumbledore! My name is Rika and this is my best friend, Rachel!" Rika spoke quickly, the light from her hair constantly dimming and brightening every few seconds. "We first heard about you back in our second year of school! We are some of your biggest fans!"
"Ah, well ... I appreciate that." I said, nodding a little.
The two girls looked at each other and giggled, now making it seem like I was some attractive guy that had just finished asking them to attend some sort of event. When they were done, they redirected their attention back over to me.
"Your father is literally thee Albus Dumbledore?!" Rachel asked.
I answered honestly, "He's my adoptive father, yes."
Rika folded her hands in a hopeful manner, her pigtails still giving off a golden glow.
"Miss Dumbledore ... it would be a huge honor if we could get your autograph."
"Yeah, yeah!" Rachel agreed almost instantly. "May we please get your autograph?"
At last, I could confirm that my hunch had been correct. I bit down on my bottom lip at the sound of the request and dragged it between my teeth, right before I took a glance back in the direction of the bar from over my shoulder. That's when it came to my realization that Tom and Odette were staring right back at me, observing the scene from the counter with knowing expressions. It didn't take long before Tom softly nodded his head a couple of times, indicating that he was giving me approval.
With that, I turned back around to face the two girls again. Then, as I made sure to muster up another smile, I faintly nodded and said, "Of course."
Rachel and Rika let out delighted gasps, just as I retrieved my notepad from one of the pockets of my apron. Afterwards, I gave my notepad a small toss up into the air and it effortlessly began to float near me—just like it had done earlier. However, just as I made a move to withdraw my wand from where it was just barely sticking out from another pocket on my apron, I ended up stopping myself when Rachel spoke up. By this point, it looked like her pupils were in the middle of experiencing a blizzard of pure golden flecks.
"Oh, no! Please, Miss Dumbledore! Use my wand!"
"Mine, too!" Rika chimed in, the bottoms of her braids practically glowing like lanterns.
"Oh, um ... very well." I agreed, wanting to remain polite.
I watched as the dark-skinned girl was the first one to retrieve her wand—a white one that looked like it was made out of perfectly polished bones instead of wood. She had pulled it out from where it had hanging from one of her beltloops and held it out for me to take. Meanwhile, the Asian girl poked her fingers inside of the long sleeve of her olive-colored jacket and pulled out her own wand—a black one that had various details that were similar to embroidery designed all over the handle.
I took Rachel's wand first, curling my fingers around its handle as I titled it at just the right angle. Then, with careful concentration, I wielded the bone-like wand to emit a bright, wavering line of pure whiteness. It was like I was writing with a calm bolt of electricity, signing my name in large, pretty, cursive letters. Afterwards, with a simple flick of my index finger, the slip of paper tore itself neatly out of the notepad and fluttered right into Rachel's hand. She caught it eagerly, as if it was a flower that had been tossed to her by a charming knight. I then handed her wand back over to her, right before I took Rika's wand and repeated the same process on another slip of paper.
"Okay..." I said softly, just as I finished the second autograph and—with another small flick of my finger—had it delivered to Rika. "There you girls go."
I gave the Asian girl her wand back, watching as she and her dark-skinned friend broke out into another small fit of ecstatic giggles. They held the pieces of paper close to their chests, whispering various comments that sounded absolutely cheerful.
"Oh my Merlin...! I can't believe that Indigo Dumbledore actually held my wand...!"
"I know, me neither...!"
"Just wait until we tell Michelle and Wendy about this...!"
"They are going to be so jealous...!"
As I continued to stand where I was, I couldn't help but feel the awkwardness kick up a few more notches inside of me. Even after all of these years, I still wasn't used to having others talking about me like I wasn't there. Nevertheless, I chose to remain in the same spot because I didn't know if these girls were going to try asking me for anything else. After all, the last thing that I needed was to get back to work, only to have them call me back to their table for some other type of favor. Plus, I didn't wish to be rude to those who genuinely admired me.
However, before Rika or Rachel could possibly try making another request, Odette ended up approaching the table. She was carrying another bronze tray, which had none other than the game pie and bowl of pea soup on it. As soon as she finished walking over, I found myself letting out a small breath that I hadn't even realized that I'd been holding in. Relief shot through my eyes and the awkwardness inside of me gradually began to dissolve.
"All right, girls! Here's your food—a fresh game pie and a warm bowl of pea soup." Odette said positively, almost squinting from the brightness of Rika's pigtails. "By your request, crackers and hot sauce have also been included."
"Oh, awesome!" Rachel chirped, turning to look at her Asian friend again. "We better hurry up and eat. I promised my parents that we would be back at the flat by nine."
"Yeah, okay." Rika agreed, right before she flicked her attention back over to me and flashed another broad smile. "Thank you so, so much for the autographs, Miss Dumbledore!"
Rachel chipped in again, "Seriously, the fact that you agreed to do them means more to us than any words could possibly describe! We will cherish them forever!"
"I am delighted to hear that. It was very lovely to meet the two of you." I said kindly, giving my head a small bow. "Now, I hope that you enjoy your food."
The two girls took their seats again. Meanwhile, as they continued to exchange cheerful giggles and whispers, I turned away from their table and let out a small huff. Then, while shaking my head a little to myself, I stepped back over to Mr. Marrow's table. Odette followed, slapping an arm around my shoulders as she grinned.
She spoke quietly, "So, that's why you were asking me about those girls, eh?"
"Mmm-hmm." I buzzed my lips in response, not really knowing what else to say on the matter.
"Well, no need to worry. You don't have to say it. I know that I'm a pretty damn good hero—swooping in at that exact moment with their food and all."
I scoffed lightly, breaking out into a sarcastic grin. "Oh, hell yeah. I really don't know what I'd do without you."
"Deflate?" Odette suggested. "I'm the helium to your balloon, baby."
With that, she placed a quick and playful kiss against my cheek. In return, I delivered a small and teasing nudge to her ribs with my elbow, unable to resist chuckling at least a little bit at her cheekiness. Then, as Odette started to assist me in clearing the table, I reached my hand into one of the pockets of my apron.
"By the way, Mr. Marrow left us a tip. Six Galleons—three for me, and three for you."
"Yep, that definitely sounds like Mr. Marrow." Odette said happily, holding out her hand as I pulled out three of the gold coins and placed them in her palm. "Always such a generous customer, he is."
She slipped the shiny coins into one of the pockets of her own apron, right before she continued to gather the dirty dishes. Not long after that, just as I finished wiping away a few final smudges from the table with the wet rag, I ended up hearing a voice that I recalled from earlier. It was the voice of the elderly gentleman—the one that Odette had served an extra sherry to during our meal break.
His words came out in awe, "Oh my...! Indigo Dumbledore—the adopted daughter of the legendary Albus...! Bless the heavens, it's actually you...!"
At the sound of my name, I fought the urge to allow my head to fall back and my lips practically became a straight line. Nonetheless, as I turned around to look in the direction in which the elderly man's voice was coming from, I made sure to muster up another smile. Luckily, when it came to older folk, this was easier for me to do. Odette had also turned around; and the two of us saw the silver-haired gentleman, now standing with the bleached-blonde woman at his side. Their arms were intertwined, their posture was equally horrific, and they were staring at me like I was a piece of treasure.
"A piece of me was afraid that my ears had been deceiving me when I heard those girls say your name...! I'm almost ashamed that I hadn't realized that it was you sooner...! Perhaps, it's time for me to get a new pair of spectacles...!" The elderly man chuckled at his own comment, sounding absolutely delighted as he held one of his wrinkly hands out towards me. "Oh, how splendid it is to meet you...! The Rescued Girl...! I must say, all of those stories about you don't even begin to do justice in regards of your appearance...! You're absolutely gorgeous...!"
"That's a very kind thing for you to say, sir." I said as politely as possible, just as I agreed to reach my hand out, take a hold of his, and shake it. "Thank you very much."
The bleached-blonde woman spoke up next, "We have heard so much about you, darling...! You're simply incredible and inspiring...! My husband and I are just flabbergasted to be in your presence...! It's such an honor—a memory that we will certainly be carrying for the rest of our lives...!"
"Well, I am very glad to know that I have managed to provide you and your husband with such an experience, Ma'am." I said, shaking her hand next. "However, as much as I wouldn't mind standing around and socializing, I'm afraid that I still have work to get done at this time."
"Oh, of course! We wouldn't want to keep you from anything, Miss Dumbledore! It was lovely to have finally met you!" declared the bleached-blonde woman, right before she withdrew her hand and peeked up at her husband from over the rim of the feathered hat. "We better get going before it becomes any darker, Franklin. Have you remembered to put our payment on the table?"
"Yes, dear. I already did." replied the elderly gentleman, who smiled broadly at me and showed off plenty of his missing teeth afterwards. "The service was excellent, Miss Dumbledore, thank you very much...! We bid you a good evening now...!"
I bowed my head. "I appreciate it, sir. Be sure to pay the Leaky Cauldron another visit at some point in the future."
The older couple proceeded to hobble off in the direction of the main entrance, keeping their arms intertwined. At the same time, I straightened myself back up, my face gradually beginning to abandon its smile. I then shook my head a little to myself, right before I turned back to Mr. Marrow's table and picked up the last of the dishes. Odette had already been one step ahead of me, perfectly balancing the other filthy platters on the tarnished trey that she had previously used to deliver Rika and Rachel's meals. She offered me a slight smile, almost looking sympathetic as the two of us walked back over to the bar and placed the grimy dishes down on the counter. Tom watched as we did this, his attention fixated mainly on me.
"You okay, Indigo?" Odette asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I answered through an exhale. "I'm used to receiving all of this attention, after all..."
"Now, don't sound so deflated. It's not like you can control the amount of admirers that you have." Tom pointed out as he worked on pulling each of the dishes back behind the counter, setting them aside. "After all, with a story like yours, becoming widely known was bound to happen at some point."
"All my story really tells is that I was raised by Albus Dumbledore."
"Umm, there's a hell of a lot more to your story than just the part about Dumbledore being your adoptive father, Indigo." Odette protested, furrowing her brow at me.
I stared directly into her eyes, the look in my own making it more than clear that I was thinking heavily about what she had just said. I poked the inside of my mouth with my tongue, watching as my best friend started to glance around the establishment—as if she were making sure that nobody was eavesdropping. Then, upon redirecting her attention back over to me, she continued to speak in a much quieter voice.
"You know fully well that you should've been killed that day—long before you were found by him. You were just a baby. You shouldn't have lasted more than just a couple of minutes—if even that...! Yet, when you were discovered, not only were you alive ... but you were even—"
"I know what I was doing, Odette." I cut her off, speaking in a voice that was just as soft. "All through my life, I've asked my father to tell me that story more times than I can count..."
"So, what exactly is the problem then?" Tom inquired, seeming genuinely confused by this point. "I mean, if you really understand the reason behind why you're such a big name in our world, then ... why worry about the attention that you receive?"
"Look, I don't want to make it seem like I don't appreciate all of the admiration because I do. The fact that I have so many fans really does flatter me—especially after everything that I went through in school. It's just..." I dropped my gaze down to the floor and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore a slight throbbing sensation that was beginning to form in my temples. "I can rarely get through a single shift without having at least one person requesting something like an autograph or some picture with me. Even though I can tell that a majority of them mean well and are genuinely interested in what my story says ... I still wish to be seen as more than just 'the Rescued Girl.'"
Odette placed her hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"But you are more than just 'the Rescued Girl.'"
"Try telling that to every last individual who I've met and practically witnessed worshipping the ground that I walked on..." I grumbled, right before I lifted my head again—my eyes now open—and pointed a finger at my scar. "And it's not like this bloody thing helps. As soon as it's noticed by any witch or wizard, they figure out exactly who I am."
"Hey, I have offered to help you try covering it up. On multiple occasions, too." Odette reminded.
"Believe me, Odette, I've already tried everything to cover it up. I've used both wizarding methods and Muggle methods. Nothing works." I pointed out, shaking my head in a mixture of disappointment and annoyance. "It's like it demands to be seen at all times."
Tom squinted at me. "How did that scar come to be a part of you anyway?"
That was a question that I had been asked billions of times; but every single time that it was asked, there was something inside of me that couldn't help but grow stiff—as if I was gradually transforming into an ice sculpture from the inside out. I held back the urge to shudder, just as Odette delivered a stern slap to Tom's arm. He nearly jumped as the result of it, now looking like he regretted asking about my permanent injury.
"Shush, Tom!" Odette hissed, sounding just as serious as she looked. "She doesn't like talking about that...!"
"Okay, okay...!" Tom was quick to backtrack, rubbing the spot on his arm that had been smacked. "I'm sorry. Pardon me for asking such an insensitive question, Indigo."
"Nah, don't worry about it. Getting asked questions like that is another thing that I've grown to become used to." I said, shortly before a distant grin started to curl up on the corners of my lips. "Uhh ... anyway ... I think that I should go around and make sure all of the unoccupied tables are wiped down."
Odette nodded a little. "Yeah ... and I need to get back to taking orders."
"All right, girls. Keep it up."
I tried to pay no mind to the tension that had formed between Odette and our boss. Before turning away, I had caught a glimpse of her piercing him with a look that was similar to one that a mother would wear when scolding their child. Still, not another word was spoken between the three of us. Odette headed over to the family of five to check on them, while I proceeded to walk off in the opposite direction. Tom, on the other hand, continued to take what was left of the grimy dishes into the back, more than likely fighting the urge to give himself a swift kick to the leg.
My mind wandered as I leaned over the first unoccupied table that I came across and started cleaning it with the rag. The story of how I got my scar was one that plenty of people seemed fascinated by. I've heard many legends on how I got it. One legend stated that I had received it after coming to blows with a werewolf at a young age. Another went into detail about a potion mishap that I had attempted putting an emergency stop to. However, it resulted in an explosion that then led to a shard of glass slicing my face—miraculously failing to blind me. However, these were nothing more than just tales. It didn't seem like hardly anyone knew about the actual cause of my scar; and even those who did, didn't know all of the details. Nobody knew the full story—not even Odette or Dumbledore; and I planned on keeping it that way for as long as I possibly could.
Before I knew it, I had lost track of time. I couldn't recall how many tables I had gone around and scrubbed. Although, by this point, I had to admit that my arms, legs, and lower back were beginning to grow a little sore. Even after working as a waitress for all of these years, I still couldn't get used to how my bones and muscles seemed to ache by the end of almost every shift.
I straightened myself back up and rolled my shoulders in a few circular motions. A groan crept up my throat as this happened, my nerves still being poked by discomfort.
"Come on, Indigo..." I muttered to myself. "You're almost done with tonight. Just keep it up for another hour or so..."
With that, I headed over the next table—the one that Odette and I had been sitting at earlier. Then, not long after I started cleaning it, I—for what felt like the billionth time that day—detected the sound of what was most definitely the squeaky hinges of the Leaky Cauldron's front door. It appeared that another customer had arrived; but instead of turning around, I continued to focus on wiping down the table.
"Ah, Hagrid!" Tom said all of the sudden, his tone bright.
"Oh, hello, Hagrid!" Odette spoke at the same exact time, her voice sounding just as cheerful.
A familiar, masculine voice—sporting a thick, warm, Scottish accent—spoke back, "'Ello, Odette! 'Ello, Tom!"
As soon as I heard that voice, I froze. I stared down at my reflection through the shiny surface of the table, my amethyst-colored eyes widening. I knew that voice, as well as that name that I had heard Tom and Odette say. I knew them like the back of my hand; but I refused to turn around. I was afraid that if I did, I would come to realize that what I'd heard was nothing more than just my mind playing tricks on me—especially after working such a long shift. Although, that didn't stop me from listening closely.
"How wonderful it is to see you again, old friend!" Tom chirped. "Your usual, I presume?"
"No, not this evening, Tom. I'm strictly on a business run."
Tom's voice became curious, "Oh? Isn't it a little late to be paying a visit to Diagon Alley?"
"Oh, I won't be going there tonight. This isn't that type of business run. I'm here specifically by Dumbledore's request."
Tom seemed to understand. "Ahh, I see. Well, how might I help you then?"
"I need to see Indigo, if you will."
"Well, certainly!" Tom chortled, right before his words became directed to somebody else—me. "Indigo! You have a visitor!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
A/N: And there you have it, my dear viewers! That was the first chapter of my retelling of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone." :D :D
I hope that you all enjoyed reading it just as much as I had fun writing it!
Just the heads up, I usually take a couple of weeks off between every update in order to give my brain a chance to relax and recharge. Plus, as I stated in the first Author's Note at the very top, I'm also juggling schoolwork and other responsibilities on the side of my writing. With that being said, please understand that my chapters will take time to piece together. I promise, I'll do my best to keep on top of updates. It just depends on how much time / energy I have. I thank you all for understanding. :)
Remember, I love feedback and I get very excited to hear what you all think of my work! So, please don't hold back on sharing your thoughts! :D
Until the next post, everybody! Happy reading and writing to you all!
Much love and God bless!
Crystalteen, out! :D :D :) :)
