"Evening, Ms. Smethwyck." Dumbledore said pleasantly. He pulled out his wand, and tapped the table. Another chair and a mug appeared, and he gestured for Mira to sit.
Mira nervously sat, gripping the edge of the chair. "Thanks." She managed, trying to hide her shaky voice. Dumbledore nodded kindly, smiling.
"We were just discussing your behavior over the summer, Mira." Draco said from next to her. Mira nodded vaguely. "Your self-destructive behavior." Draco clarified, giving her a significant look.
Mira closed her eyes. Dumbledore knowing she cut? Great. Opening her eyes again, Mira found Dumbledore staring very intently at her.
"Mira, when one feels emotional pain, it is the lowest point in their lives. But you, extraordinarily, did not let the pain from losing your parents and Draco's unfaithfulness become that low point. Instead, my dear girl, you allowed your eccentricity to take over your thought and reason. It is not wrong, Mira, to feel."
Mira snorted, finding her old personality returning, her seething hate and anger for this man filling her. "Listen Dumbledore, you're the one who killed my parents. You're the one who caused me all of this damn pain!" Mira pushed herself back from the table, accidentally knocking over her mug.
Dumbledore waved his hand and the mess vanished. "Please, Mira, sit down. You do not know the full story, and I must ask you to save your judgments for when you are, as they say, clued in."
Mira was glaring so hard at Draco that her eyes were reduced to tiny slits. "Please, Mira, do as he says." Draco said, his voice full of fatigue.
Mira pulled her chair back, and sat down, her back straight, her arms folded, still glowering. "I have, before this Summer, regarded reason in all of my actions…speak, Dumbledore, and tell me your story, but be warned that Voldemort is my master." Mira said in coldly collected voice.
Dumbledore inclined his head, and laced his fingers together under his chin. "I am sure you have heard that you mother and father were brilliant Slytherins….this is only partly true. Your father, Foster, was a Gryffindor to the bone, Mira. Brilliant, bold, and caring."
Mira pursed her lips. She had heard this at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, but didn't believe it, at least not anymore. After all, everybody told her she would end up in Gryffindor, and here she was, a proud Slytherin.
"Now, your mother's family--" Dumbledore began again, but Mira rolled her eyes and broke in, "Save it. I've heard this a hundred times. My mom turned good, blah blah blah."
"Mira! Manners!" Draco hissed at her.
"Nonsense, Mr. Malfoy. Mira only wishes to get to what I have to say to her quickly." Dumbledore said, his voice still calm and kindly.
"Yeah, sure, we'll go with that…." Mira said, leaning back in her chair.
"Foster and Natasha were killed by Voldemort. They were discovered as spies, working for the Order. Your mother is my kin, Mira. She was a Dumbledore. That makes you and I family."
Mira stared deadly at Dumbledore, then Draco, then back to Dumbledore, before bursting out in laughter. "You expect me to believe that bullshit?" She gasped in breaths, clutching the arm of the chair for support.
"Mira, control yourself!" Draco cried, disgusted.
"It is the truth, Mira. Now, if you please would calm down, we can get on with the story." Dumbledore said.
Mira bit her lip and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Once composed, she maintained a small glare, just above Dumbledore's head.
"Down to it, Mira, there are many things that are special about witches these recent days…why just take into account Miss Granger's astonishing gifts. You, Mira, have a talent hidden deep within you, underneath the bitterness and sadness. Your loneliness, Mira, has given that talent strength."
Mira rolled her eyes. "The only thing that lies underneath my bitterness, Dumbledore, is a foolish obsession." She turned to look at Draco, who understood what she meant.
Dumbledore leaned forward. "Exactly. Your love of Mr. Malfoy is a gateway. A gateway to the gift of the Shrezden. Now, the Shrezden were an ancient-"
"I know who they were, Dumbledore, I do happen to read. The ancient cult that turned the everyday muggle's view of magic to fear…But what do they have to do with the here and now?"
"The Shrezden's leader, Onawa, created evil upon the earth, to torment the muggles that spied upon them during their rituals. His daughter, Lativa, devised a barrier against this evil. Once her power was found out, she knew she would be killed for treason, so she passed this gift on to her sister, Leah. Leah kept this secret, and passed it on to her daughter, then her daughter passed it to her daughter, and so on throughout the generations. Because the gift was so precious, Leah bounded a curse upon the daughters of her dispensation, that they could only marry and procreate with other purebloods. Only the pureblood race could truly appreciate the magnificence of this gift, and properly preserve it. Natasha Dumbledore passed this gift to you, Mira, and as such her name fell to you. So does this secret, this power."
Mira stared at Dumbledore, confused. "I have no power, Dumbledore. You said it yourself, I'm bitter, and sad. I have no secret!"
Dumbledore again leaned in closer."Within your blood, Mira, you have the power to vanquish Voldemort."
Mira's eyes were wide. "I thought that was Potter's job." She said, waving her hand, as if delegating a task.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Mira, it is Harry's duty to kill Voldemort. I know you have pledged yourself to the Dark Lord, but now that you know the truth of things, will you not help the Order?"
Draco took Mira's hand. "I am with you." He said firmly. "If you don't join us, Mira, it will be my death. Voldemort will kill me, he'll find out about my true allegience. I know you don't care about Dumbledore or the Order, or the rest of the magical world, but you care about me, don't you? You love me?" He was staring deeply into Mira's eyes, pleading.
Mira's eyes fluttered shut as Draco squeezed her hand. If, in fact, he was a spy, Voldemort would sooner or later find this out. It would be death, and it would be slow and prolonged and utterly painful. Voldemort would make an example out of Draco's treachery. He would force every Death Eater, every child of every Death Eater, every one who was sympathetic to his cause, to watch while Draco suffered. If it came down to it, truly Mira would do anything for Draco, and that included, for now anyway, joining forces with the Order. She would never forgive Dumbledore, but there was nothing she wouldn't give for him, the man she loved, Draco Malfoy. "I will do this, for Draco. But I will always hate you, I will never forgive you for what you've done to me, to my family." Mira said finally.
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Your blood, Mira, will kill Voldemort. Are you willing to give it?"
Mira knew Dumbledore was talking about her death. It was an ancient charm, a potion of death, that would kill her. Her blood would be drained and used as a poison for Voldemort's consumption. She wondered if Draco knew that this would happen. She would have to die for this, for him.
"I know that if Draco is discovered he will be killed….I know that I am, truly, the only person that can prevent this. I am dying for you, Draco." Mira said to the table, before getting up and leaving the room.
Once outside, in the corridor, she ran. She ran down the flights of stairs, across the stone floors, out of the front doors of the castle. She felt her feet touch the grass of the sloping lawns of the grounds, but only briefly. She ran past Hagrid's hut, past his paddock, and into the Forbidden Forest.