AN: Before you say anything, yes, I know Dumbledore is old, and yes, I know Dumbledore is gay. All will be explained, beautifuls, so just sit back and enjoy a good read~ (At least, I hope you think it's a good read!)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I only own Lynx Carlisle and the changes she makes.

Dumbledore's Daughter

00 | Request

The old hut was cold and creaky, as it always was when a massive storm hit the small island. The sound of waves crashing against the coastline just outside the door wasn't missed by her sensitive ears, even if she was trying to ignore it, and the rain pounding on the roof like it was trying to break in was unwelcomed, lulling her to sleep.

Lynx hated the rain—or any type of water really—just like her feline friend spread across the ruddy, worn out couch next to her.

Nolan, her snow leopard companion, could take up the entire couch if he wanted to, but he was kind enough to leave some room for his master, allowing the black-haired, brown-eyed witch just enough space to lay next to him, his white and black-spotted fur giving Lynx some sort of warmth. While it was true she was the master, it was Nolan's job to keep her safe at any cost, and as a result, the leopard acted more like a frantic brother than a pet.

With a slight roar, Nolan yawned, baring his teeth before he licked the tip of his paw.

"I feel you," Lynx muttered, returning the yawn. "I'm so tired of all the rain."

Nolan grunted in a form of agreement, but continue cleaning himself, trying to get the dirt out of his coat.

She smiled a little, scratching the leopard's head.

Suddenly, something pricked at the enchantment that kept her small, cottage-like home invisible to both Muggles and Wizards alike. She stiffened automatically, and Nolan let out a low growl, the paw he had been cleaning landing over her stomach protectively.

"Good evening," a familiar voice echoed around the room.

Lynx relaxed, her hands stroking Nolan's paw reassuringly as she glanced to her right.

Sure enough, the old man was standing against her wall, hands laced behind his back. His expression was politely neutral.

Headmaster of Hogwarts and her father, Albus Dumbledore.

"It's been awhile, old man," she said affectionately, turning on her side to get a better reach of Nolan's stomach. He nuzzled her, content, and closed his eyes.

"Have you been well?" he asked lightly.

"Yes," she answered, smiling as Nolan stretched out. "Nolan has been in the mood for hunting, so we have a lot of leftover eland if you want some."

"Thank you." Dumbledore smiled, though it was nowhere near his eyes. "I'm sure the elves at Hogwarts would love to make eland soup for dinner."

Lynx didn't say anything in turn, her smile fading as the silence stretched on. When he didn't say anything, she decided to get to the point. "So, what do you want?"

He chuckled, not surprised, and kept his voice composed. "I'm afraid I have a favor I must ask of you," he said easily, like they were talking about the weather. "You have heard the rumors, I presume? Regarding the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. You sent Fawkes with the news, remember?" she said, dryly adding, "That's why I'm stuck on this enchanted island again."

His smile was apologetic. "It seems as if the Dark Lord is planning on using the Minister's efforts to keep people from knowing the truth to his advantage, and I fear he will try to use his connection with Harry to manipulate the boy, therefore I will be distancing myself from him as much as possible. However, there is still imminent danger around him that cannot be avoided unless someone is with him without suspicion, and as I can't be there to be sure he's safe, I need someone who can."

"And what? I was the first person that came to mind?" She half snorted.

"I need you to do this for me, Lynx," he said, face serious. "I know there will be problems, especially since it has been years since you have been near anyone your age, but it has to be you that does this."

She let out a hard sigh, blowing her long hair out of her face.

Protect Harry Potter? The boy who lived? The supposed Wizard of the Century? She may have lived in a rundown shack since she was ten, and she may not have gotten out much since then, but even she knew how capable the guy was supposed to be.

"Why me?" She asked the first thing that came to her mind.

After all, she was sure with his connections, the old man could easily find a strong witch or wizard to guard him. He was thee Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of Wizengamot, so on and so on; why would he possibly need to risk his daughter's life, one that he's gone to such lengths to protect, for such a simple job?

"Because you are the Order's last hope," he said, smiling warmly. Her curiosity encouraged him, showing him she was at least considering it. "The Dark Lord has no information on you, has no idea what to expect out of a new witch appearing out of nowhere. With that and your gift, you're the most reasonable choice."

Gift.

She pointedly ignored his choice of words. "I have no choice, do I?" she muttered. "You need me to do this, so I'll do it."

His smile widened, though it still hadn't reached his eyes. "I knew we could count on you."
"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving him off as she sat up, ignoring Nolan's growls of protest. "Just don't expect me to befriend the guy. And I want Nolan to come."

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed. "You will, however, need to hide your identity, of course. From now on, you will no longer be Lynx Carlisle Dumbledore; you will simply be Lynx Carlisle, transfer student who was kicked out of Beauxbatons for unknown reasons. Tell no one the truth. It is imperative that your real identity remains unknown. A select few will know, but allow them to approach you."

"I get it," she said, "but you've forgotten something important."

He raised an eyebrow, inviting her to explain.

"My eyes," she said, looking directly into his. "They're kind of a problem."

While her father had brilliant, soul-piercing blue irises, hers were a warm beige, specks of gold in them. When she was in danger or when she lost her temper, however, the gold flakes would overpowered the beige, glowing gold.

"Those are what I am counting on," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Those eyes are going to stand out. The moment they start turning, people, even the darkest of witches and wizards, will flee. That is how everyone will know danger is near—your eyes."

So his plan wasn't just to save this Harry Potter; it was also to turn people against her if things went south.

The old grandfather clock next to Dumbledore chimed; it was midnight.

Lynx stood up, barely coming to his white-bearded chin. Nolan whined, stretching. "When do I start?" she asked.

He laced his hands together in front of him, smiling. "Right now."