Something we did while we were out was create a bank account for me. An owl swooped down out of nearly nowhere and landed on Professor Snape's shoulder; he took the letter from its beak and read it. Then it flew away.When the seal broke, a sizeable bag fell at his feet. He picked it up, jingled it, and then tossed it to me. "It seems Dumbledore is making sure you can survive in the wizarding world, Miss Silde." He handed me the letter, written in a lovely archaic script.
Severus,
This money is for Sannovan. She needs to begin a life here; give half to her immediately. Put the rest in Gringotts. There it can compound interest and begin to accumulate. You are to finish purchasing her school supplies as per my original instructions.
There have been recent developments of which I need to inform you; return as soon as possible.
Albus.
He opened the bag and counted out twenty gold pieces, fifteen silvers, and twenty-five bronzes. "This is money in the wizard's world, Miss Silde. The bronze ones are called Knuts," he said as we walked to an immense white marble building. "There are twenty-nine of them to a silver Sickle, and seventeen Sickles to a golden Galleon."
"These are what you have been paying with." I examined the money.
"Yes. Stay out here. I will fill out your paperwork and bring you all the information you will need. Your key will need to be kept in a safe place, as well."
"I have one."
"Good." He gave me a last piercing stare before sweeping up the steps.
He returned after about a half-hour and gave me a regular-size silver key, engraved with a sort of dragon on one side. The details were exquisite; on the forehead, I noticed the same symbol I have on my arm—a six-pointed star, with loops off the points. It was puzzling, but I had no time to consider it as I was bustled into another shop. The key went into my pocket with my wand. I would put it on the silver chain around my neck as soon as I could.
After we had collected my cauldron, scales, glass vials, my robes, and a few other miscellaneous items for my room—these last I bought for myself—we returned to the immense, many-towered castle aboard the train. It was approximately six at night; the sunset was breathtaking as I sat at the window of our regular passenger car. A woman soon came around with a cart of sweets. "Would you like anything," she asked me.
"I'll have three chocolate frogs, please," I requested politely. They looked the most harmless aside from the lollipops and I didn't want to keep licking one of those like an idiotic little girl in front of the still-severe teacher before me. Maybe that's where he had gotten his name from, I speculated idly. I made a mental note to look "severus" up in my Latin book. After eating, I asked him who my other professors were.
"Your Divination Professor will be Sibyll Trelawney, third-year; Rubeus Hagrid has taken over the Care of Magical Creatures, also third-year; Mister Flitwick is the Charms Instructor; Mrs. Sprout teaches Herbology next year, and Madam Hooch will learn you how to ride a broom. Professor Binns, a ghost, will be your History of Magic instructor. As you already know, I will be teaching you Potions-Making and Defense Against the Dark Arts. McGonagall will handle Transfiguration. Your classes will begin soon after we arrive back."
I made a thoughtful sound and fell silent, brooding inwardly. He knew his attitude was one of the only things to keep him safe from everyone else; when he discovered it was not good enough, he struggled to make it good enough. That particular barrier around his heart was very strong, and if something came along stronger, he grew fearful. It was not something with which he was prepared to deal. Whatever I did, I would have to be careful. I had frightened him in revealing that I could see through his desperate disguise. He despised himself for being afraid and me for scaring him. He would not forgive me easily.
I must have fallen into a doze as I stared out the window, because the next thing I knew, the black-haired man was shaking me by the shoulder and we had stopped. The wisps of a lovely dream cleared from my mind as I rubbed my eyes.
Professor Snape and I passed the enormous front clock as we went up to the room with one wall that only had a door on it. I asked the dark man about it. "There is a door because you see it," he replied. "It leads to the Hidden Tower. No one yet knows why you can see the door when a vast majority of us cannot. It is invisible to all but a few. Dumbledore can see it, and you can. We don't know about anyone else because we do not let the students up here. They stay in the dormitories, belonging to one of the four Houses."
"What are those four Houses?"
"They are named after their four founders: Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin." He said the last with slight emphasis and a note of pride.
"That one is yours."
"I am the head of Slytherin House, yes. Mister Potter belongs to Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall's House."
I gave a noncommittal noise. "So I've heard."
"Flitwick is head of Ravenclaw, and Sprout of Hufflepuff. I suggest you get some sleep, Miss Silde. Tomorrow is likely to be the start of a very busy summer."
After I deposited my new supplies in my room, I changed into the nightgown I had bought myself, remembering that I had none. With a few more Galleons, I had bought several bolts of cloth with which to make my own clothes. I would need to learn some sewing charms, I noted.
These were to be my rooms, as Dumbledore had told me. The bed was behind a short wall to the left of the door, the desk in the corner opposite that, and then a window straight across from the bed. The rest of the room was open and bare, except for a couch facing the corner. Professor Snape explained nastily that I was out of the way and no one minded me here. I was tempted to shove him down the stairs as he left, but I chose not to. I decided to sleep instead. Things might be better in the morning.
"You wanted to see me, Dumbledore?" Snape's tone was flat as he entered the headmaster's office. The portraits were all sleeping, as it was night—or at least, they looked like they were sleeping. The only three in the room were he, the white-haired man, and Minerva McGonagall.
"Yes, I did, Severus." The Headmaster's voice was serious. He looked to Minerva.
The woman drew a breath, as if she were unsure how her comments would be received. "Albus, this is most unusual. A student in the summer, living here? Most of us barely have time to clean and prepare before the next year is upon us—but teaching, too? Three years in three months? We can't manage; I'm sure of it."
"The young woman's arrival is indeed a most…unique situation," Severus agreed.
The headmaster looked at them gravely, walking over to pet his phoenix, Fawkes. "I've called you both here because you both must know what I know.
"Miss Silde's tattoo is no ordinary mark." He turned to face them. "It is a very ancient, very powerful symbol. Its use was eradicated many years ago, long before Hogwarts existed. The wizard Merlin, the witch Morgan le Fay—not even Voldemort himself would have used it, even in such precarious situations as anything we have seen.
"The young woman's wand is another indication. Fawkes gave the ash that resides in her wand. It is most peculiar."
One of Snape's eyebrows rose, an expression of interest. "Ash?" he asked in his quiet voice.
Minerva gasped. "How did you learn this, Albus?" Her voice was very nervous.
"Ollivander sent me an owl the moment Severus and Miss Silde left his shop, the same as he did with Harry. He remembers the day Fawkes came to him. Fawkes went to Ollivander when he wasn't looking well, which is a very odd thing for Fawkes. Close to a burning day, the phoenix doesn't usually fly too far from the nest, as it will be vulnerable when it burns. But Ollivander says that he alit on a branch of bloodwood and then fell into ash. He poked his head out afterward and chirped at him, Ollivander tells me." Dumbledore smiled at the pleasant but rather irrelevant mental image of the baby bird. Then he continued. "Now Ollivander, never one to disobey what signs he saw, did as Fawkes asked, that very day. He uses only three cores, yet he made this exception. That in itself is a strong portent. He set aside the oaken wand he was making and completed the work for Fawkes, so he would know it had been done. Fawkes was gone for quite a while once, I remember. That must have been it. At any rate," he continued, "young Mister Potter and Lord Voldemort are no longer alone with their brother wands. They now have a half-sister. Since Fawkes gave his ash, it carries its own unique properties. It will not reverberate perfectly with theirs. The very nature of the ash is a question in itself.
"What this means for Sannovan we cannot say. Quite frankly, we do not know. No one has ever been given a bloodwood wand before, nor have there been three similar cores." He came back to his desk, and showed them the pages of a book that was lying open. "This is from Banished: Magic of the Ancients, in the Restricted Section, one of the few books there not about Dark Magic. The paragraphs I want you to read are…here, and…" He leafed through the book about five pages ahead. "…here."
The text read as follows, in an ancient script.
The practice of naming as it meant when Stonehenge was new has been all but forgotten. It was an art and an empowerment. The ceremony took place when a child turned eight years old. It was at that time they were given a true name. Their given name was how their friends and family knew them. The true name is what gave one power; if one knew someone else's true name, they would have been able to curse them, bless them, or enchant them with the most powerful of spells. It was for this reason that true names were never recorded, nor were they told except to the most trusted mages and magic wielders. As an act of sacrifice, they were given to only the truest friends, showing the trust of putting one's life in another's hands.
The names have no significance in these days and ages; no one has or knows true names anymore. Everyone goes by given names, as Muggles no longer believe in magic and the ceremony was long since banished by the 'civilized' world when time began. Great harm could have come to many people if it had been allowed to continue.
That section went on to describe the properties and uses of a true name for and against its owner. The two teachers skipped to Dumbledore's next bookmark, which gave some information on the symbols mentioned and why.
When a wizard, mage, or witch child, one with power, received his or her true name, they also received a mark or special symbol upon his or her right arm. It was given as a warning, to always use power wisely and not to greatly anger someone with magic, for until trained the magic may come forth without direction or guidance, or in a proper form.
"Albus…this child…are you really saying that she could be from a line of ancient wizards, whose magic was lost, but the practices weren't? Could they have known in some way that one day Sannovan would be born?"
"Sibyll Trelawney's grandmother was a great seeress," the old man said. "The talent has been in her family for ages. I suspect one of her ancestors gave a prophecy in the high days when the wizards and witches were feared and respected by all. Magic was household back then, and superstition was high in all the 'civilized' world, as it is now. You might be right, Minerva."
"She will need to be watched, to make sure she tries nothing against any of us." The Potions Master scowled.
The headmaster smiled. "And since you have made the point, Severus, you may be the one."
Snape's face darkened. His mood deteriorated quite noticeably after that.
"We also need to consider the possibility that she has a twin," Dumbledore continued. "Twins were often more magical than anyone. Miss Silde could be so powerful that we cannot be sure. If she is the light, there may be a darkness."
"Or vice versa," McGonagall said in a worried voice.
