Claire Silva sat on the floor of the filthy cell, her knees tucked closely against her chest. She stared wide eyed into the distance, no tears left to weep. Staring into a dim light without an apparent source, she was only vaguely aware of a rat scurrying across the dirt strewn floor. There were no windows and she had no idea what time of day it was. She didn't know how much time had passed before the cell door swung open again to admit a strange little creature. The small creature, who was garbed in a tattered pillowcase, stood not more than three feet tall with huge ears and enormous eyes like glass orbs. Unbidden, the thought 'Elfin like' came to Claire's mind. She little knew how correct she was.
The elf placed a tray containing bread and water on the floor by Claire's feet, and looked at her with those huge eyes. It opened its mouth as if to say something but glancing fearfully over its shoulder, instead shook its head, turned and left the cell. The door swung shut with a heavy thud and Claire was once again alone in the dark.
She couldn't help it any longer, dry sobs escaped her. Why was this happening? Who were these people?
A noise in the hallway caught her attention. What was that sound? It sounded like…. slithering?
Three figures came into focus outside her cell. Claire gasped in fright and pressed her body even closer to the wall. One of the figures was a snake… a giant snake. The second was a short balding man whose eyes darted around nervously like a rat while his hands fidgeted about each other continuously. The last figure before her pulled primeval fear from the depths of her soul to lie like ice in her heart. Claire was unsure if it was a man or a monster. He was tall, his face pale and his eyes red like blood. He turned his serpentine countenance to smile down upon her causing Claire to tremble with fear. He exuded an air of gleeful satisfaction; as if he possessed a secret treasure to be exploited.
"It's such a pity I wasn't able to see the old fool's face," the pale man with the red eyes shrieked in evil joy. His inhuman voice was cold and high pitched. "It must have been amusing! Only my precious Lucius could have found this type of information."
"Can we play with her, My Lord?" the short balding man asked. The man rodent quivered in depraved anticipation of coming debauchery.
Claire gasped involuntarily, her stomach roiling with fear.
"Don't be foolish, Wormtail! This girl is priceless to me," the pale man growled before turning to leave. The short man, suitably chastised, scurried after him. The giant serpent turned to Claire and flicked its tongue in the air tasting her scent before following the pair back into the darkness.
Claire whimpered in helpless dismay. She felt memories crushing in upon her reminding her of childhood nightmares. She harkened back to what she had been taught as a child. When faced with darkness, unspeakable evil and insurmountable odds turn to the light. Claire prayed. She prayed for her mother's protection, she prayed for her creator to send a saviour to rescue her. In the end, she prayed whatever they would do to her, they would do quickly and that she would not suffer long. She didn't think she would be coming out of this situation alive.
Her mantra of prayer brought her some inner peace and so she shook off her invisible shroud. "Think positive," she said to the darkness, "at least the pain will go away." Claire began a new litany within herself.
She didn't touch the tray of food, instead, Claire lay still contemplating her life while the blackness engulfed her.
It was late Monday morning and Lucius Malfoy was comfortably ensconced at home in Malfoy Manor indulging in prideful introspection. He knew the Dark Lord was pleased. It had been sheer luck that brought him this information. By coincidence, he had run into an old acquaintance, Ricardo, who had moved to Portugal some thirty years ago. After all, what information wouldn't you give to save your family from group of Death Eaters on holiday? Ricardo definitely "let the information slip" about the Muggle whore and her daughter. Lucius smiled smugly, it was a bit of thrill to see Ricardo's face just before the Avada Kedavra hit him.
A smirk crept across Lucius' pointed features. "Yes the Dark Lord was indeed very pleased; I'll be receiving great honours. It won't be Snape, or Wormtail --- it will be Lucius!" he said with pure joy to no one in particular. "This is the final strategy. The old fool and the boy who lived are lost."
Lucius was so happy with himself. He was drunk, filled with conceit, self aggrandisement and ultimately…… power.
Dumbledore was again lost in reminiscence. Snape was the first to come out of the shock that Dumbledore's statement issued.
"Headmaster," Snape said. "What exactly does this mean here and now?" his dark eyes looking steadfastly into Dumbledore are with curiosity.
"I cannot tell you, Severus," Dumbledore sighed, his eyes darting away from Snape's. "I do not understand what this means after all these years."
"Albus, do you think the Portuguese woman sent you the necklace?" asked McGonagall.
"I don't believe so, Minerva. It would be very unlike Maria to do such a thing with out explanation. I fear in seeing this stone after all these years that perhaps something has happened to her."
Dumbledore was normally the foundation of Hogwarts, usually so sure and steady. Now, his countenance was troubled, guarded. Snape thought he looked every one of his one-hundred and fifty eight years. Standing, Dumbledore walked slowly to his office window, stroking Fawkes affectionately as he sat on the sill. He looked out on the sunny May morning.
Neither Snape nor McGonagall dared to speak, not wanting to disturb the thoughts of the great Albus Dumbledore. They exchanged looks and standing in silent agreement, made to leave their headmaster to his thoughts. Before they had taken a single step, a weary and aged voice began to speak.
"Maria Silva was a young lady very special to me," Dumbledore said suddenly. McGonagall and Snape turned back to listen to him.
"I met her when I was in Portugal in 1975 searching for alliances for our cause in their Wizarding community. My contact there was an old student of ours, Ricardo Guimares-Noir. You should remember him, Minerva."
Minerva McGonagall nodded in affirmation, as she began recollecting the events of that time. Albus had come home a bit out of character after that trip to Portugal. His eyes had lost their twinkle for a long time.
"Ricardo's father was English and his mother Portuguese. When his father died, his mother moved them both to Portugal. I met Maria completely by accident in the University library," Dumbledore looked at the pair of professors over his half moon spectacles. "It was a Muggle University, I had used a charm on myself to appear like a middle-aged Muggle, you see. The sight of a one hundred and thirty year old is a bit overwhelming for some Muggles. As I was saying, Ricardo was teaching at the University, Maria had approached him, asking about an upcoming project, and Ricardo introduced us." He recalled.
"I know it sounds most peculiar, but it was love at first sight. When our eyes met, everything seemed to stop and poor Ricardo was speaking to the walls. Ricardo, as you remember, Minerva, was extremely bright and perceptive and quickly understood what was happening. Maria was his top student, she was developing a project in the field of Genetics," Dumbledore sighed as all the old memories were flooding back.
"You must understand, that Portugal, at that time, was the middle of a revolution. 'The Hot Summer of Seventy-Five', I believed they called it. Times were hard, especially for a young lady with no family. Maria soon enough suspected something strange about me. She was sensitive to the magic, she could feel it. After some time she knew all about me, our situation in Britain, Voldemort, and why I was being so very careful. Our relationship lasted for about one month, and then I gave her this necklace and told her I had found my soul mate. I apologize for failing to tell you, Minerva," Dumbledore looked at McGonagall sadly.
McGonagall nodded and wipe a small tear from her pale blue eyes.
Snape's face, however, was expressionless. He merely sat opposite McGonagall, listening to his story.
Dumbledore moved away from the window and went to his desk. He looked at the necklace and he had never looked so old or lost.
"The situation in England was worsening day by day. When Voldemort attacked in a town near London, there were some Muggles hurt and I was called back by the Ministry to oversee the situation. I promised Maria I would return as soon as possible and trusted her wellbeing to Ricardo. I returned to Lisbon one month later but I could not find her. Ricardo had lost track of her. I asked the Muggles at the university but no one knew where she was. She had just left, gone for good, two weeks after I had left. I tried all the Locating Charms I knew to try and trace her, but she could not be found," Dumbledore looked down, staring hard at the necklace in his palm.
"I asked every person I knew if they saw her, and to please tell me if they saw her. All this was in vain, of course. She was gone. The only certainty I had was if she was in any danger, she would just have to stroke the pendant, and I would come for her. There was never any sign of her again, as if she had vanished from the face of the Earth."
Dumbledore sadly caressed the medallion, the only piece of Maria he had left, and a tear rolled down his face into his long white beard.
"Albus, I'm so sorry for you," Minerva said a moment later reaching out to lay a comforting hand over his. "You're positive that Maria did not send it?"
"No, Minerva, I don't think so. I'm sure Maria would have written a note. Something strange indeed is happening, I'll need to think about it carefully," the old wizard looked up at McGonagall and Snape. "Thank you both, I'm sure you both have other things to see to?"
The professors knew they were being dismissed and left Dumbledore alone in his office.
Snape headed toward the dungeons, knowing his class of Gryffindors and Slytherins would be out of control by now, having no supervision. There was something that was bothering him, something didn't fit, and he just couldn't put his finger on it. Something had been bouncing around his thoughts ever since Dumbledore received the necklace in the Great Hall. He thought about it furiously, and then, as he nearly missed a step down to the dungeons it came to him. The black owl that had delivered the pendant….