"Have a seat, dear," Dumbledore ordered, walking off to the other side of the room to retrieve the tea set and some funny looking round food. Mirana looked around the strange office. It was a wonder, she thought, that Dumbledore could get any work down, what with every headmaster preceding him posted up on the walls, chatting to one another.
"Funny thing, doughnuts," Dumbledore said, as he sat down, and filled both cups with tea. "A seventh year, Arthur Weasley, introduced me to them. All they are are just dough and sugar, covered with a glaze, but they are the most delectable things I've ever tasted. If only I could figure out where the hole missing from the middle went off to... the Dark Lord hates muggles. Says that they're imbeciles. But I'm sure that if he would try one of their inventions, a doughnut, perhaps, he might not think that way. Maybe he would find that muggles are actually quite intelligent."
Mirana shook her head furiously. "They're monsters, and deserve to be treated as such."
Dumbledore looked over his cup at her, his deep, intense eyes thinking.
"I see. I find that to be an odd statement, coming from you. Just a few months ago, professor Berk was telling me about how interested you were in muggles, and that you had mentioned to him in passing about taking his position once he retired. But, come to think of it, he did mention later on that you seem disgruntled as soon as you walk into his room, and you seem to be taking less interest in the subject of Muggle Studies." Mirana's eyes dropped, focusing on her doughnut. She knew where the conversation was going, and she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to keep her secret any longer.
Dumbledore looked over his desk at her, and said, with sincerity dripping from every word, "Mirana, please, tell me what's wrong."
Mirana's lip trembled, and, in a teary mess, told him everything. She couldn't keep such a horrifying story to herself. She told him about her secret interest in muggles, and sneaking out of her parents's house at night to explore the muggle world. She told him about the man who had attacked her, how he hit and berated her while having his way with her, and how she was then left for dead.
After she calmed down, she looked back up at Dumbledore, who was staring at nothing in particular, and sadly nodding at it. He walked over to her, offering a hand to help her up. "Normally, Ms. Quirrell, I would contact your parents first, but with you having kept this a secret for the past few months, I think it would be best if you visited the hospital wing right away. Just for your health's sake."
It was all Dumbledore could do to let the young girl sob on his shoulder as he sat next to her on her hospital cot.
"My life is over," she quietly got out, in between sobs.
"Oh, now now," Dumbledore told her, searching for the right words, "Pregnancy is a start of a new life. Yes, your old life is being left behind, but it's so that you can start a new one, starring you and your baby."
Mirana looked at him with big, wet eyes. "S-sir, you d-d-don't understand. My parents will be beyond furious. Not only am I having a b-b-baby, but it's a half-blood!"
Again, Dumbledore was left searching for words. He had been at Hogwarts since the late 1930's, and had had Mirana's parents before her. They seemed like perfectly fine children when they were with those of their own kind, but anyone who held less than a pureblood status was subject to at least one of their cruel jokes. One time, Mirana's mother, Cecilia, cast a spell so powerful on a first year muggle-born that a plant sprouted out of his left ear, and didn't stop growing until it was long enough that a bird could rest on it. But most children are obnoxious, and most tend to grow out of it.
"Funny thing about babies, Ms, Quirrell, is that they can sometimes bring even the most separate of families together."