Santana aimlessly walked through the empty moonlit corridors.
The last week was difficult and great at the same time. Hermione was a brilliant friend that liked to learn as much as she herself liked it. She had started teaching her to write the nordic alphabet in ink. They had to be precise and exactly the same size to evenly distribute the magic through the array.
On the other hand, Santana still hadn't cast any magic at all. Nothing would come out of her wand and it worried her. Hermione tried to help, but even her meticulous eye couldn't find any fault in her casting. They knew she had magic, she could power her arrays after all. They wanted to search the library for answears on the weekend. However she didn't think they would find anything useful. Hopefully her performance with a wand wouldn't reflect too badly on her grades. Her father would be disappointed if she brought Ts home. On further thought, she didn't even know if she could show him her grades. Surely the Hogwarts crest was bound to appear somewhere. She would think on that later. After she had figured out all the other things.
Suddenly the walls were creeping closer. What was she even doing here? Hogwarts was probably the least safe place for her. She sunk down leaning against the cold wall. If anyone found out about who her father was they were bound to kill her or worse. Albus Dumbledore was a threat she didn't fell ready to face. Helookedlike an innocent benevolent man but her father had told her what lurked behind that facade. The teachers were bound to noticesomethingabout her. Her capabilities extended to theory only.
Her breathing quickened. She should leave before anyone found her. It was after curfew. She shouldn't have left the tower.
Getting up she looked in both directions. She was horribly lost and all the portraits were asleep. Waking them might get her into even more trouble. She randomly chose a direction and ran.
Chasing around corners and climbing stairways she hoped up was direction eanough to lead her to Gryffindor tower eventually.
Panic claimed her last coherent thoughts when she found herself in a dead end. She turned around and fled again. Walls were blurring around the edge of her vision.
When she could think again she felt cold wind on her face that dried her still running tears. The tower she had found was not hers. But it was empty and high and looking around she could almost imagine the hills around the castle were the Alps around Nurmengard.
She continued to cry silently, only lightly sniffling from time to time. Even though the school was full of people and Hermione was a great friend, she felt more alone than ever before. She missed her father. His stories and his warmth that envenoped her while he told her of the past and held her close.
She sat down at the edge of the platform, her feet dangling in the air. Taking a deep breath, she almost couldn't fathom that the very same moon and stars shone the very same light on Nurmengard as well. Hogwarts was so very different from her home. Maybe going to school had been a mistake. Her father did offer to teach her himself. However he couldn't teach her the practical aspects of magic since his cell was designed that way. She had wanted to learn magic and now she found out it was probably all for nothing.
"A fine evening to explore the castle, is it not?", a gentle voice interrupted her sniffling and her thoughts.
Santana turned around and paled. That was the worst thing that could possibly happen. Her mind started to go into overdrive. Had he found out? Should she run? Fight? She probably didn't stand a chance either way.
"What brings you up here this late in the evening?"
He still didn't stop smiling that damned gentle smile.
She took a shuddering breath.
"I miss home.", the truth was the best option for now. If she couldn't fool her father, Albus Dumbledore wouldn't be tricked either.
He came closer. Santana closed her eyes and expected him to take out his wand – if he even needed that – and throw her off the tower. She heard his robes rustling lightly next to her and when she opened her eyes again after nothing had happened, he was just sitting next to her, his legs hanging over the edge as well.
Santana stared at him, open mouthed.
"It is incredible how very quiet this castle can be, despite all its inhabitants.", he mused.
Her shoulders fell and she managed to calm a little. He hadn't done anything until now. Why would he wait? Perheps he didn't know after all.
Deciding to take a leaf out of his book, she mused: "The hills remind me of the mountains at home, they're only smaller."
He hummed.
"Lemon drop?", he held a can filled with yellow blobs out to her.
"No, thank you.", Santana declined.
"Surely you miss more than just the beautiul landscape."
"I miss my father." The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she really thought about them.
"Naturally.", he offered.
"He would tell me stories every evening. Sometimes we have hot honeyed milk.", she started crying again, the tears rolling down her cheeks. Santana fouriously rubbed at her eyes.
"I could not possibly hope to be as accomplished at telling stories as someone who has done so for many years now, but perhaps you could give an old man the chance to try and cheer you up."
She was flabbergasted at his offer. What would he tell her about? His side of the war? He wouldn't, would he?
"What would it be about?", she asked without meeting his gaze.
"What would you like to hear?", Dumbledore countered.
"Something that really happened.", she finally raised her eyes and found him looking at her in question. "I don't like to hear about things that aren't real."
"Don't you find joy in the limitlessness of imagination?"
"No, I don't like stupidity and foolishness. Humans are full of that anyway. I like to learn from mistakes made in the past."
"The good student learns from his mistakes, the master learns from the mistakes of others.", he gently smiled at her again.
She only nodded.
"Very well. I could tell you about an adventure I had in the egyptian pyramids and how foolish I was to touch a nice picturing of a man with a jackals head."
Santana looked at him couriously. Despite everything her father had told her, here she was, sitting right next to his worst enemy and listening to him.
"I was young and wished to explore. A friend of mine had a tour to the pyramids planned and he simply took me along. He wanted to lift the veil of secrets that laid over the myth of the immortality of the aincient pharaos. Meanwhile I simply wanted to see something other than my ow four walls. But I rapidly got interested in the most courious of things..."
She listened attentively as Albus Dumbledore recounted how he got trapped in a pyramid that lied unseen for muggles in a deserted valley. He was a very good storyteller and Santana even managed to forget who she was talking to.
"Could you not have tried to blast through the walls?", she asked.
"Oh no! Absolutely not! On one hand, Nicholas would have lynched me had I even thought of destroying an aincient site like this.", he laughed lightly at that.
"On the other hand though, the pyramid was highly saturated with magics unknown to us. So a wrong move might have triggered a trap or undone all progress that we had made on the door until that time."
He looked at her with a cynical smile that she mimicked.
After he told her how they fled the site, hunted by what they thought to be a demon, but turned out to be an old ghoul, Santana was laughing loudly with him.
"Perhaps now is a good time to head back to bed.", he said gently.
Suddenly she remembered that it was after curfew and she was very much out of bed and had very much been found out by none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"I'm sorry.", she hung her head.
"Whatever for?", he asked.
"I'm wandering the castle at night."
"Not to worry. I understand perfectly.", he said and somehow Santana doubted he saw the whole picture, however she didn't wish to correct him.
"Nevertheless I would appreciate it if you would come to me or your head of house the next time you are feeling unwell. I am not the youngest anymore and chasing you through the castle was quite challenging.", he winked.
Despite her worries that this was the Great Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, she might just rather go to him than to Professor McGonagall. He had a way with words that resonated with her. And a kind smile that encouraged her instead of punishing words.
She nodded. "Yes, Sir."
"Splendid.", he clapped his hands and rose. "I shall accompany you to Gryffindor tower."
Santana caught on quickly and they walked in companionable silence to the portrait of the fat lady that guarded the common room. When she turned to bid him a good night, he was already gone.
Confused, she gave the password and went to bed.
