II
It was an uncharacteristically sunny day in Surrey when I met him. Ironically enough, I had been studying my mother's old Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook on a barely functional wooden bench. Whilst I usually kept to myself, even I couldn't deny the simple pleasure of getting some much needed sun. The tall grass swayed with a refreshing breeze that kissed my tanned skin. One might say it was almost a good day. Almost.
A troubled boy my age entered the park, shoulders hung low and feet dragging through the dirt. Alone he sat, losing himself to thoughts that made his brows scrunch together in either frustration or impatience. I couldn't tell. After most of the families had gone, he gazed through circular glasses upon a mother who was ushering her son off of the merry-go-round. Anyone paying attention could see how his eyes softened, how the corner of his mouth lifted into a sad smile. I knew that look. Only where his heart held a beautiful longing, mine ruthlessly searched for answers – answers that I felt were fast approaching.
The boy on the swing was suddenly confronted by a group of smug looking teenagers. Pathetic looking boys, they were, led by a rather large and unfortunate looking fellow.
"Hey Big D. Beat up another ten year-old?" I threw a sly smirk at the boy on the swings, chuckling into my book.
"This one deserved it," D replied. I rolled my eyes at the lot of them nodding in agreement.
"Five against one. Very brave," the other boy remarked snidely. I like this one.
"Well you're one to talk. Moaning in your sleep every night. At least I'm not afraid of my pillow." The boys continued to mock him, barking with laughter. "Don't kill Cedric! Who's Cedric, your boyfriend?"
"Shut up."
"He's going to kill me, mum! Where is your mum? Where is your mum, Potter? She dead?" With a loud, incredulous gasp, I sprung to my feet. "Is she dead?!"
Potter beat me to it, racing toward D and shoving a dark brown wand into the underside of his double chin. D froze, ultimately understanding what it was and rightly fearing it. A wizard, I thought, my heart soaring. Finally. Quite suddenly the horizon darkened to an eerie blue as I watched them both. I briefly wondered if Potter were causing the storm to set in, but he looked just as alarmed as D was.
"Dudley. Dudley let's go." The group insisted, but Dudley's stare was unwavering from where Potter stood.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything!" Potter yelled over the howling wind. The sky filled with looming black clouds that threatened a torrential downpour at any second. But the air felt...off. I couldn't explain the absolute dread that coursed through my veins. We needed to move, quickly. I threw on my tattered, black backpack and charged forward.
"Are you prats just going to stand around here all day? Come on!" I yelled, grabbing Potter's hand and dragging him behind me. In no time we were sprinting down a dirt path, Dudley surprisingly keeping pace. We had just made it to the dimly lit tunnel when the rain violently plummeted to the earth. Before I had a chance to question Potter about his wand, a deep frost set in the air. The walls and floor were quickly coated in a thin layer of ice. I worriedly glanced over at Potter, noticing how his breath became visible white wisps in front of him.
Goosebumps traveled up the back of my neck before Potter and I were flung to opposite walls. An eyeless black figure with a void for for a mouth leaned in and seemed to suck out the essence from my body. I felt myself weakening at an alarming rate, hands trembling at my sides. From over the figure's shoulder I could see Potter almost struggling to breathe. The fire burned deeply within my core. There wasn't any way I was going to let these things destroy the first real chance I had at finding my mother. With a massive pulse of energy and a guttural scream, I set myself on fire. The flames licked up the wall behind me, immediately melting the ice there. Upon feeling the scorching heat the cloaked figure ripped away from me, dropping me to the ground.
"Run!" I yelled at Dudley who with wide, fearful eyes clumsily slipped on the floor and slid directly into the path of another monster. Idiot. My hand, currently still encased in flames, gripped tightly onto the cloak of the figure still holding up Potter. It recoiled quickly, giving him enough time to cast a spell I had briefly read about in one of mother's old notebooks.
"Expecto Patronum!" A flash of light erupted from the end of his wand, casting the monster back out of the tunnel. I quickly retracted my fire as I watched him send the spell over to where Dudley lay frozen on the floor.
"Well, damn. Who the hell are you?" I questioned as we quickly sprinted to Dudley's aid. Potter's brows knit sharply together as he struggled to lift Dudley to his feet.
"Me? Who the hell are you?!" With a quick wave of my hand, the weight bearing down on Potter's shoulder lifted, as Dudley levitated slightly above the ground. "How – where's your wand?"
"Never had one," I shrugged. Potter opened his mouth as if to question me further, but instead turned quickly to hide his wand in his back pocket. From the distance, we could hear the wheels of a shopping trolley coming closer. Around the bend appeared a very tiny woman in a clear raincoat with a look of concern strewn about her face.
"Mrs. Figg?"
"Don't put away your wand, Harry. They might come back." She then turned warily toward me, eyeing me in curiosity. I followed quietly beside them down the road toward what I assumed would be Harry's home. "Dementors in Little Whinging? Whatever next? Whole world's gone topsy turvy."
"I don't understand. How'd you know about-"
"Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on you."
"Dumbledore asked you?"
"You know Dumbledore?" I interjected. "I've been looking for him for years. Take me to him. Please." I pleaded with the both of them who stared at me in confusion. Mrs. Figg turned on her heel to look me in the eyes.
"My dear. Apologies, but who are you? I was never told to watch after a girl."
"I'm Deianira. My mother's name was Catherine and she disappeared four years ago. I've been looking for a man named Dumbledore ever since I found this letter." I hurriedly ruffled through my bag in search of the letter I always kept on my person. "There was no return address, so I didn't know where to look. Can you help me?"
Mrs. Figg's brown eyes scanned the old parchment and lifted her hand to her mouth in worry. "Oh dear. Oh dear. You two need to get inside. I'll send this over to Dumbledore immediately. Do you mind, Deianira?" Reluctantly, I nodded my head in agreement. "Good. Good. Harry, you two stay together and do not, under any circumstances, leave the house. I will send someone for the both of you." Once her retreating figure disappeared from our vision, Harry turned toward me.
"Deianira. I have a lot of questions, but I have to get him inside. I don't have the most understanding aunt and uncle in the world-"
"This oaf is your cousin?" Harry nodded. "...Okay then. Which room is yours?"
"Second floor. Right window."
Whilst an argument ensued below, I took it upon myself to snoop around Harry's room. There were various school textbooks, a golden brown broom, and most interestingly a Snowy Owl which happily leaned into my touch. I cooed at her, softly petting the top of her head as I removed her from her cage.
"You are absolutely magnificent."
"She really is. " Harry entered the room with another one of his sad, small smiles. "And so are you. How did you...I mean – are you okay?" I laughed wholeheartedly at the boy, setting the owl on the desk beside me.
"Yes. I am. Fire doesn't hurt me. At least mine doesn't. I'm not really sure how it started happening in the first place, but you just kind of learn how to live with-"
"Spontaneous combustion?" A tiny smirk lifted his dark features, bringing some life back into his face.
"Yeah," I chuckled. "Although thankfully it is no longer spontaneous." He paused for a brief moment, considering where he'd like to start.
"Tell me, how do you do magic without a wand? Were you taught that way, or?" I shook my head and averted my eyes to the floor, fidgeting nervously with my hands. I wasn't really sure how much I should divulge to this complete stranger, but I was also desperate. He seemed kind enough, anyhow.
"Not really? When I was younger and in school, I used to set little fires everywhere. A cruel word from an older girl, boys tugging at my hair – it didn't take much to get me started then. Once I accidentally put a teacher in the hospital after she raised her hand at me, mother quickly removed me from public spaces. Because my powers were growing at such a rapid pace, she had to teach me how to control them quickly. I wasn't old enough to own a wand and she said wands only really serve to focus our energy anyhow. So I just...learned without it."
"That's absolutely insane. Brilliant, but insane. You rarely see witches or wizards use wandless magic. I've only ever really watched Dumbledore do it. How is it you know him?"
"I don't. My mother did."
"And your mother disappeared. But how is it you've been searching for years? Surely your father knows where to find Dumbledore, even if he happens to be a Muggle. Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of our time. I mean, he's the headmaster at Hogwarts. Didn't your parents tell you about Hogwarts?" I took in a deep breath and raised a brow at Harry before taking a seat in front of him.
"I thought it was quite obvious that I don't have a father. I don't know who or where he is. Hell, I don't even know if he's alive and frankly, I don't really care. All I know is that my mother absolutely despised him. I truly wish it were as easy to find Dumbledore as you say it is. However, being an orphan isolated from the wizarding world kind of makes that difficult, don't you think?"
"Yeah. I can imagine," Harry said mostly to himself. He pitched himself forward to lean his elbows on his knees as I continued on.
"Honestly, if it weren't for that letter from Molly, I wouldn't even know a Dumbledore existed."
"Molly? You wouldn't happen to be referring to Molly Weasley?" I shrugged my shoulders and sighed at the boy, who seemed to putting some pieces together that I couldn't see.
"She didn't sign as Molly Weasley. Just Molly." His thick eyebrows knit together as he fell into deep thought. From behind his dark brown hair, I could just make out the fainted lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Harry began pacing back and forth from his bedroom door to the window, biting absently into his fingernails as he did.
"Did she mention anything else? Any other clues as to who she is at all?" When he walked past me again, I grabbed a hold of his hand and shot up my brows at him. "Sorry, sorry," he stated before sitting back down in front of me.
"In the letter Molly tried convincing my mother that I should be heading to Hogwarts that year. That she could trust Dumbledore to keep me safe. She mentioned a boy's name – Ron." Harry abruptly stood up and began furiously writing something down on paper as I talked. "Said that I'd be starting with him that year and that I could stay with them at some place called The Burrow, until then."
Harry turned around to face me once again, a small smile gracing his lips.
"What? Does that mean anything to you?" With a nod, he placed his hands on my shoulders before gently shaking me.
"Who are you?" A soft laugh escaped my lips as I shrugged and shook my head.
"You keep asking me, but I don't even know that. But you. Who are you?" I asked, brushing his hair aside. "You've got a badass scar on your forehead, monsters attacking you, and very questionable security detail."
"It's...a long story," he sighed, falling dramatically back on his bed. I followed suit, staring up at his cracked ceiling before smirking over at him.
"Good thing we have all night."