Chapter 1 : Godric's Hollow
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But the truth behind the matter is that fate, although it is known for being fickle, has its very own secret. Sometime we even find ourselves being swept up into more than we can handle, not even thinking about the outcome. But among us some people are so wise that they understand that even though it may seem that fate is it's own being, it is nothing more than an illusion, something thought up to take the blame when things go wrong without explanation. These few knew that 'fate' was nothing more than the false embodiment of man's mistakes and suffering.
But then, destiny becomes a word of legend, meaning nothing more than what has been. If fate is just what man inflicts upon himself, then certainly it can change, can't it? But that of course, is no easier than changing man himself, so that is why many choose to believe that 'fate' and 'destiny' are words of certainty. Even though it is chosen to be believed by many, that doesn't make the belief fact. Instead, it makes things even more complicated, and, as the old saying goes, one often meets one's worst fears one the path one takes to avoid it.
We find these truths everywhere, even if many choose to ignore it. But sometimes you might find those who do know, especially in the most unlikely of spots, including in one lovely neighborhood in small village in the West Country of England called Godric's Hallow.
Yes, Sarah new well these ancient wisdoms, even if she didn't realize it. Sarah was almost the age of three, but her mind was way ahead of her age. She remembered everything from the moment she was born. She remembered seeing her mother's face for the first time, which was what she was thinking about as she watched her brother trying to catch the rainbow puffs of smoke that were drifting from a long slender stick in her father's hand.
Another strange thing about Sarah, and the rest of her family really, was that they weren't as ordinary as most people believed. They were a family of magic, two witches, and two wizards. Sarah's brother was two years younger than Sarah, as his birthday had just passed, though Sarah was more worried about the following day. She was going to be a whole three years old on that day, and she couldn't wait to celebrate with her parents, and possibly even her godfather. Sarah didn't know why, but they had been in hiding since shortly after her brother was born. Whenever she asked, however, they only ever replied with the same vague answer; we’re safer like this.
"Alright you guys, time for bed." Sarah's mother had walked into the sitting room where Sarah, her brother, and her father were. Sarah always envied how beautiful her mother was; her long, red hair and her deep green eyes. She loved how her mother always smelled of treacle tart and roses.
"I think your mum's right," said her father, getting up from the spot on the couch where he had been sitting, and tossing his wand aside.
"Aw, ok," moaned Sarah as she scrambled after her father. They walked into the hall, passing the kitchen, where she could smell something delicious baking. She turned and stood in the doorway, enjoying the smell.
"Come on," said her mother. Nudging her towards the stairs.
"Mmmm, but that smells so good," drawled Sarah. She had no sooner said this than a freshly baked cake soared off of the counter and landed on the dining room table, followed by a knife, which immediately began to cut a generous slice.
"Sarah!" cried her mother, who was hastily trying to undo the magic and send the objects back to their places.
"Sorry," muttered Sarah. She had a knack for making things go her way, something most underage witches and wizards could do, but she had more of a control over her abilities. In fact, over the first winter she had been alive, she had learned to talk, but was so annoyed that she couldn't talk properly because of an absence of teeth that she made a full set of pearly white teeth appear overnight.
Her mother sighed. "You really shouldn't use magic like that..." she trailed off, realizing that her daughter would probably just ignore her anyway. Not that Sarah was a disobedient child; when she saw what she wanted, she would do what it takes to get it. If you knew her, you would probably describe her as very logical, brilliant, and resourceful.
"Come on, now," urged her mother, "off to bed"
Sarah was smarter than to argue with her mother. She followed her mother and father up the stairs and into her room, where she got into a bloodred nightgown and shuffled under the covers. Her parents kissed her on the forehead, said goodnight, and turned to leave.
"I love you!" Sarah called to them as they were closing the door. Her mother smiled. Her father laughed a little.
"We love you too, with all our hearts," They replied as they closed the door. Sarah heard her parents' footsteps as her mother went to lay her brother
down and her father headed back downstairs.
Sarah was nearly asleep when she heard yelling from downstairs. She couldn't make out what was being said. She listened for a second, but all was silent untill she heard he mother down the hall.
"No! Please!" was all Sarah managed to make out before high-pitch laughter filled the air. Sarah got up and ran for the door, but barely turned the handle before she heard a loud bang. Sarah was thrown back and everything went black.
Sarah awoke to find herself in a place she had only ever been once. She looked about the circular room, every inch of the walls hung with portraits of old, important-looking witches and wizards. There were odd instruments displayed around the room that whirred and buzzed and hissed. She knew this to be the office of the headmaster of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. She had been there earlier this year with her parents to inquire if she could start school early, instead of waiting until the age of eleven like every other student at the school. They had been turned down that time, but were determined to try again the following year.
However, Sarah had never imagined being here under these circumstances. She had been lying on a small cot set off to the side of the room. She stared at the desk, big and menacing in the little candlelight available, positioned so that it faced directly at the door, as if waiting for an unruly student to dare to come through it at any moment. She stared at the man sitting behind the desk. He had hair and a beard that had grown to quite a length, silvery in color. He had stunning blue eyes, half hidden behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. He wore robes the color of lilacs and, Sarah could see under the desk, a pair of bunny slippers.
He stared back at Sarah, a look of deep sympathy on his face. Sarah felt a pain in her head where a large lump was found, and she had a gash over one of her eyes. She didn't know what had happened, but figured why she would be. She tried to speak, but the words were replaced with a hiccup-like sob.
"I am deeply sorry," was all the man could say to comfort her.
ought back tears, and finally asked, "Um, Headmaster?"
"Please, call me Albus," said Albus. "Or Dumbledore. Or Brian, whichever one you fancy."
"M-Mr. Dumbldore, sir," she struggled to talk without bursting out crying.
"Professor Dumbledore if you will."
"Er- Professor." She was starting to get irritated. “Where- What's going to happen to me?"
"That depends. Your brother-"
"He's ok?!" Sarah suddenly cried out, which made herself jump.
"Yes. He's been sent to live with your aunt and uncle until he's old enough to attend school." Dumbledore explained.
"Why haven't I?"
"Well," Dumblore cleared his throat before continuing. "I have recently been in contact with the Minister of Magic," He paused to retrieve a piece of parchment from inside his desk and began to read it aloud; "'The Ministry of Magic have met with the Wizengamot to adhere to the case of a young witch to be aloud entrance to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. After careful consideration and debate, it has been decided to allow the underage witch full entrance to the school. The witch, in return, will have to abide by all rules that apply to students of the same grade as she. She will be notified and possibly expelled if magic is deliberately or accidentally used outside the school, as she is now expected to be able to maintain control of her abilities. The Ministry will be keeping a close eye on the witch for a trial period, in which she is expected to keep the ministry posted on her progress, and in which the Wizengamot will decide if she is able to stay in school. Highest hopes and deepest regards, *Millicent Bagnold, Ministress of Magic'"
Sarah sat awestruck at what she had just heard. "S-so, I'm coming to live here?" She managed barely more than a whisper.
"It would appear so, unless, of course, you don't want to?" He peered over the parchment towards her. She sat, thinking. Under normal circumstances, she would have agreed to this immediately, but something just didn't feel right. Her mother and father weren't there to tell her how proud they were, or how much they looked forward to seeing her succeed in school.
She finally asked, "Would I be able to see my brother?" The look on Dumbledore's face said it all, the answer she dreaded, but knew deep down.
"I'll give you some time to think about this," He said, "for now, however, I shall escort you to the hospital wing so Madame Pomfrey can mend you."
Sarah took one last, long look about the room, as if desperately looking for an answer, but she left the office without an ounce of confidence or cheer.
*Millicent Bagnold served as Ministress of Magic from 1980-1990, and was succeeded by Cornelius Fudge (served 1990-1996)