Disclaimer: All HP characters/references are property of J.K. Rowling.
Alice sat silently on the brown leather armchair near the fireplace. Her head resting on the back of her hand, her eyes exuded the deep contemplation that was going on inside her mind. On the small table before her were three Daily Prophet newspapers, the one from the evening past and two from that day. The news had removed her farther from any reality she had ever known.
That evening's Daily Prophet ran the headline, "Dumbledore's Granddaughter? Muggle McNally Book Case Takes an Odd Turn." It detailed the public statement made by Blaise Zabini that afternoon, explaining her relation to the deceased wizard and the enchantment she was under. A picture of Albus Dumbledore completed the article. There Alice's dreams stared back at her; it was her grandfather, he was real, and his name was Albus Dumbledore.
She heard a knock at the door and the lock unlatch, but she didn't move. Draco returned home late that evening due to the breath of paperwork he had to complete for the upcoming trial. All day he thought of how to approach Alice with the news, he felt a great responsibility to let her know everything.
Draco walked slowly into the room, feeling apprehensive about approaching the seemingly lifeless form in the shadow by the fireplace. Upon seeing the newspapers sprawled out on the table before her, he knew part of the task he had come to do was already complete. She would have read about her grandfather being a wizard and about the enchantment she underwent that stole her wizarding potential.
Sitting down on the adjacent chair, Draco didn't speak but lowered his head in sympathizing silence. Alice felt comforted by his presence and appreciated the silent gesture, giving her time to talk if she chose to.
After a moment she spoke, her eyes were still transfixed on the fireplace, "I'm starting to answer questions about my life that I thought were unanswerable. I now know what destroyed my mother's mind." She then looked towards Draco whose head was still averted, "I had always feared sharing her fate. Perhaps this enchantment protected me."
Draco's head rose and his eyes met the seriousness of hers. She had taken a perspective which could have eluded even the most noted investigator.
"Nothing's certain but it's possible your mother developed her magical abilities later in life, which is a rare. It is more likely that you would have developed yours as a child, at least by age seven. This would have made you a candidate for schooling here. Dumbledore's intent was to protect you from physical harm."
"Physical harm?" Alice asked puzzled.
"Your grandfather was a very powerful wizard, perhaps one of the most. But you were coming of age during a time of great uncertainty…" Draco proceeded to give Alice a brief history of Voldemort and his return during the second wizarding war, although he stopped shy of discussing the full circumstances of Dumbledore's death. "…It can be assumed that you would have been a target for Voldemort if he was aware of your connection to Dumbledore."
Alice digested the information, further connecting events she had written about in her book, with the actual events that were going on in the wizarding world.
"I want to show you something," Draco said, rising from his chair, his body language urging Alice to follow.
They left the confines of the guestroom and proceeded to the opposite end of the corridor. There, a long torch lit stairway rose to the next level of the mansion. The corridor looked similar to the floor below but it contained a large set of wooden double doors on one side. This was the entrance to the mansion's grand library. Even before seeing the hardbound books lining the walls, Alice knew what the space was by its smell; that great musty smell of aged parchment. Alice's eyes wandered up and down the massive shelves of books that stretch from the polished wooden floor to the high coffered ceilings. She went over to the closest shelf and ran her fingers down the book bindings, not touching them, but using her fingers as a pointer to read each of their titles. So many books whose authors and titles she had never heard of, filled with information she had never learned; this room contained information of a whole other world, making her feel incredibly minute in her knowledge.
Draco watched Alice near the doorway and noted the grace in how she moved. She seemed to glide down the aisle of books, moving with purpose and poise. He had not thought of her as he would a muggle; she was intelligent, emotionally strong and beautiful. While he could never imagine admitting this out loud, he did silently to himself at that moment.
Alice finished perusing the long aisle and turned to see Draco watching her. "It's incredible," she said, her eyes still filled with wonder. She felt like she had stumbled upon the great library of Alexandria before its destruction.
"This collection has been in my family for generations." Draco said, his face betraying his relief at Alice's change in emotions from when he first saw her sitting by the fireplace. "I figured you'd want to read more about this world, since you are a part of it now."
Alice smiled at him, but then looked solemnly back at the shelves, "I suppose I am temporarily," she said, as she pulled out a book of interest entitled, A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot. "The court could still decide to erase my memory," she said opening the tome in front of her.
Draco knew this was a possibility but he had not considered the odd state of mind this would produce for the one in that momentary limbo. "Blaise will do his best to make sure you have a fair trial," he said trying to sound hopeful.
"It's okay," Alice quickly added sounding more positive. "If I'm here now, I want to know as much as I can." She closed the book, holding it close to her chest, and started walking over towards Draco, who had not moved much farther into the room.
"You knew my grandfather, right?" Alice asked a bit apprehensive.
"I suppose. He was the headmaster at Hogwarts when I was a student." Draco responded, unsure what her next question would be.
"How did he die?" She had asked the question she had wondered about since her last meeting with her grandfather.
Draco put a hand to the side of his head, stroking it once as if hesitating for a moment. He then moved over to one of the armchairs near the library's enormous fireplace. With a flick of his wand, Draco lit a warm fire for the both of them. Alice followed him and sat adjacent, half in awe of the fire she saw created and half apprehensive about what he would say. Draco felt conflicted about his involvement so long ago, he was chosen to kill Dumbledore and even though he had not said the Killing Curse, he felt his involvement was no less dire.
He began by explaining Albus Dumbledore's long history with Voldemort. This led to explanations of the Dark Arts, the idea of blood supremacy, Death Eaters versus the Order of the Phoenix; he provided introductions to pertinent individuals, such as Harry Potter and Severus Snape. Draco felt particularly ashamed when discussing his and his father's role as a Death Eater, adding they came to have no choice but to obey the Dark Lord, who used their home as headquarters. Alice listened intently, digesting all the information as best she could without interrupting the young man. She could sense his involvement had given him much pain. She had known of his father's incarceration at Azkaban from the Daily Prophet newspaper she came across so long ago. Draco was around 16 years old. He should have been enjoying his final years of high school, she thought, but instead he was brought into a war, given a suicide mission, only to live and be continually punished and humiliated into doing what was necessary to keep him and his family alive. Draco didn't have to explain these truths hidden under his explanation of events. Alice just sensed a deep remorse from him.
"That must have been awful for you and your family," Alice said as Draco finished.
He looked at her quite surprised. She would pity him? One who was not on the side of good? He didn't know how to respond.
"Yes, but…my family is pure blood, we held these views of blood supremacy, we thought that this new order under Voldemort was the right one." He said, as if trying to defend his abjectness.
"And many people lose their lives to such ideologies, in my world too," Alice replied thinking of racial and ethnic cleansings, mass genocides, and regimes of dogma. "But when you place that ideology besides your family, you know which is more important, which is real."
Draco looked into her sparkling blue eyes, seeing a wisdom that could have suggested better than a blood test that she was the daughter of Albus Dumbledore.
"You survived Draco, and your family survived," she smiled reassuringly. "I doubt I could have been that strong."
"You are very surprising, Alice, especially for a muggle," Draco said, breaking the glumness. "You did make a very large wizard cry."
He was referring to the man Alice attacked with pepper spray the day she was forcefully brought into the office.
"Well, never underestimate what muggles can do," her back stiffened and her nose slightly went up, "Believe me, there are worse things than toxins that cause temporary paralysis out there; just luckily not on the open market." She was glad to share a laugh with this man, who she had been so serious with.
Alice continued, "I'm sorry I made you share so much. I asked how he died because I knew he was going to die."
Draco's smile slowly left his face and a confused look washed over him. She knew? How?
Alice continued, "When my mother passed away, I suddenly couldn't speak; I was in shock. One night I had a dream where I met my grandfather, he comforted me during the worst time in my life. It felt real, but I awoke in my bed the next morning as if nothing had happened, but I could speak again. At the same time, my father, he just couldn't cope, and he moved us to California to start a new life. The dreams stopped when I moved, but would reoccur when I came back to Britain to visit relatives in the summers. It was like talking to an old friend and mentor, I learned so very much from him. The meetings ended shortly before his death and I could tell by his parting words, that he knew it was the last time. I always wondered how he knew."
Draco stared confounded by this, but appreciative that Alice had shared something very personal with him as he had with her.
"You never knew who he really was?" Draco asked.
"No," Alice shook her head. "I only knew he was my grandfather on my mother's side and that it was a dream. I desperately hoped it wasn't my sanity slipping. But I never felt compelled to ask his name, it was only today that I found out, seeing proof through a picture in the newspaper."
"You've had quite a week," Draco said, still admiring the incredible foresight Dumbledore carried, as well as his concern for those around him. Draco knew Dumbledore did not want him to strike the final blow, thus he made Snape promise to finish the deed. It was not until much later that Draco could fully appreciate him for that.
"Yes, but the pieces are finally starting to fit," Alice said, and she smiled warmly at Draco. He smiled back and they both felt a close bond had formed from sharing personal information.
"You can use the library tomorrow, while I'm gone," Draco said, glad he had brought her here. "Let me pull some selections for you though." He rose from his chair and pulled out his wand, thought for a moment, pointed it and with a flick, a book from the top shelf flew to him and he passed it to Alice, who was still not used to seeing levitating objects. The book was, Hogwarts: A History. "This book is about my school, where your grandfather was headmaster for around 50 years." Then Draco flicked his wand again and another book flew from an upper shelf.
Alice continued to watch the books fly, amused by the sight. Then she decided to ask him something that was troubling her.
"Draco," She said a bit unsure, "Could I make a request?" Draco stopped and looked at her. "I wondered if I could have access to my things, my laptop, my phone. I've been away for a few days, if my family were trying to reach me, well, they would suspect…"
After retrieving another book from the shelf, Draco looked at the worry in Alice's eyes. "I'll ask Blaise tomorrow," Draco said reassuringly.
"Thank you so much Draco," Alice said sincerely. "I don't know how I would have managed being alone in a holding cell."
As a good size stack of books accumulated on one of the study tables, Draco said, "This should keep you busy for a little while."
Alice laughed at the pile, which was considerably large. She decided to start with the first book she pulled, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot. Draco and her returned to the two armchairs near the fireplace, to utilize the warmth and a wonderful light to read in. Draco had retrieved the book he found in Alice's flat, The Story of Alchemy and the Beginnings of Chemistry, and joined her in page turning. Occasionally they would come across a term that lay outside their realm of knowledge and they would ask the other of its meaning. It would spark a mini conversation that would end in more page turning. Occasionally they would look up at each other and smile warmly, hinting at their newfound friendship.
As the night wore on, Alice, aided by the warmth of the fire, the comfort of the chair, and a day of heavy emotions, fell asleep, resting her head in the corner of the chair's high back and side. Draco decided to take her back to her room instead of waking her. Using a levitating spell, he raised her out of the chair gently and floated her into his strong arms. He cradled the magically weightless form back to the guestroom where he placed her on the bed. He removed both her flats and placed them on the floor below. Alice stirred a bit, opened her eyes slightly, and with a look of gratitude she smiled sweetly at Draco and went back to sleep. Draco lingered for a moment more, looking at this woman he had just met, feeling a strange longing for her. Were his feelings appropriate? Should he have been this kind to her? He ended the night thinking of the acceptance they had shown each other while talking about their past and he felt good about it.