Dumbledore recognised the writing as soon as the young girl passed it to him, for Dumbledore had never forgotten his brief love. It was a fleeting love, but the love he had felt was pure and the passion was still imprinted on his aging heart. So was the heartbreak that he felt when she had left him, telling him that they wanted different things. He would’ve given it all up for her, for Idira.
He looked up at the young girl in front of his, she had long, auburn hair and blue eyes, just like his.
He paused before opening the letter, not knowing whether inside was what he wanted to see. Before he could change his mind, he ripped open the seal.
Never a day went by when I didn’t think about the time we shared, how we would spend days on end in the hydrangea garden next to your office or the having ‘Muggle Days’ where we would curl up and watch muggle movies while eating muggle food, including those vile sherbet lemons! I understand it is too late to take back the time that we missed together, as when you are reading this, it means I have passed on. I only wish that we had more time together.
I know that I said it wouldn’t work because we wanted different things, I wanted all of you, and I knew how selfish that was. I didn’t want to be the one who stopped Albus Dumbledore from becoming the great man he is today. In some way I regret my decision, I regret that I broke our hearts, I regret that we never spoke again. Albus, my greatest regret is that you never knew your daughter.
I should’ve told you as soon as I fell pregnant, but again, I didn’t want to get in way of your success. I knew how great of a father you would’ve been and I knew that all of your love, time and thoughts would go towards that little baby, and I couldn’t live with that. You are such a remarkable man, who has saved lives and who has helped young adults become the great people they were meant to be. Your daughter was named Rowan, she had my hair and your eyes. I wish you would’ve known her.
When she died, I felt like I had failed her, and you. I never told her who her father was, because she was as determined as you are and I know she would’ve done anything in her power to contact you, and you would’ve given her everything. You would’ve given it all up for her. I know now that I was wrong, you would’ve still been extraordinary, but you would’ve been that for her and me, you would’ve been the great man for our family and for our little world. You would’ve just been it in a different way.
I don’t want to make the same mistake again, Albus. Adora, is Rowans daughter. She is as intelligent as you, with your hair and eyes. She has every good trait that you have, and all of mine too. I know that greatness will come of her, as it came of you. Although you have missed the first 15, nearly 16, years of her life, I couldn’t bear it if you missed a moment more. I will have peace knowing that she is in the capable arms of her grandfather.
I love you. Always.
He picked up the photograph, on the back it said; ‘Three generations’.
Idira had shrunk in her old age, her curly blonde hair had turned into ferocious grey curls which were crazier that her usual ones. Her brown eyes were still as strong as ever in the midst of her lined face. She looked as beautiful as the day Albus had met her. Next to her stood a tall, blonde women. She had tanned skin and her wavy hair was pulled back out of the way, this only made her strong blue eyes stand out further. Holding her hand was a small girl, with auburn hair tied in two plaits, ending in purple bows. She was pale and freckled, like her grandmother, but her eyes were all Albus’s. In the background stood a garden of hydrangea flowers, their periwinkle petals swaying beautifully in the morning breeze.
Albus couldn’t remember feeling such an overwhelming flow of emotion; sadness over the loss of his love and the daughter he never knew, happiness over the fact that he had a granddaughter overjoyed at the fact that Idira had never stopped loving him. He felt the harsh prick behind his eyes and couldn’t determine which emotion had triggered them, but he knew he had to be strong in front of his new family member. Breathing deeply, he looked back up at her. She saw the raw emotion etched on his face, and the wetness in his eyes, and her heart ached. She knew completely the pain he was feeling, but didn’t know what move to make next.
“I’m sorry you never knew my mum, and I’m sorry you didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandmother,” She knew strong people, such as herself and possibly her grandfather, didn’t like the sorrow and pity in peoples voices when they were paying their condolences. So she didn’t voice her sorrow for him, she said it in a voice full of love and compassion.
“What was your mother like?” His voice was quiet.
“She was strong and passionate. She had a fierce heart, and loved life. She was one of those people who always looked at the best in everyone, and every situation; even when it was never a good situation. She liked to read, and she liked to read muggle books the most; saying they were so far-fetched and magical. She couldn’t cook, not to save her life. You’d think this would make her bad at potions, but she was good at making potions. But, she loved to transfigure stuff, she’d go to muggle charity shops and just transfigure ugly things there into beautiful pieces, so that every object would be bought. It was so weird.” The ache in Adora’s heart began to burn, she had been purposely trying to not think of her grandmother or mother. The familiar lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t stop the tears that welled in her eyes. “She didn’t deserve to die the way she died. She didn’t deserve the pain.”
Dumbledore didn’t know what to do, he was used to crying student, but he usually solved it with wise words and advice. This was a pain that couldn’t be closed with such things.
“It was not a natural death?”
“No, she was murdered.”
“Was the murderer ever found?” One name came to Dumbledore's mind who would murder an innocent women, but the time when Adoras mother was murdered, was after he had be vanquished by Harry Potter.
“My grandmother swears blind that it was-” Adora stopped speaking.
“Was whom?” Dumbledore enquired gently.
“My grandmother always said fear of a name, increases fear of the object itself.”
“Your grandmother was a wise women.”
“Well, she said it was Voldemort. Yet, I’ve researched Voldemort, and I was seven when my mother died. So unless he was inside someone elses body, it can’t have been him.”
“Someone elses body indeed.” Dumbledore contemplated.
He was thinking back to 3 years ago, when Voldemorts' spirit had entered the weak body of Professor Quirrel, making the weak soul his vessel.
“What do I call you?” Adora surprised Dumbledore out of his thoughts.
“May I ask what you mean?”
“Well, if I am going to be a student here, you will be a professor and my head teacher. But I am also your granddaughter, but I’ve only just become your granddaughter. So…” She was nervously playing with her nail.
“Call me whatever you feel comfortable with. If you wish for the fact we are relatives to be kept a secret, then so be it.”
“I don’t mind people knowing, I’m just not going to go out of my way to tell people you are. Not to sound harsh.” She smiled apologetically.
“It does not sound harsh, only truthful.” He smiled back.
“Now, I think we both need to go to bed.” As he got up he noticed that Adora was still sat in the chair.
“Is something wrong, my child?”
“Yes, I’m erm, not in a house.” She was biting her lip.
“My apologies!” He walked over to a battered a frayed hat, and Adora wondered why someone would keep that in their office.
He walked over to her and simply put it on her head. She was about the protest when she heard a voice in her head.
“Well, what a nice surprise.”
WHAT THE HELL?!
“Usually, my job is done for the year, it’s nice to know that I can always be used for the odd job.” Adora didn’t know whether the voice was being sarcastic or not.
“Yes I am being sarcastic.”
Oh, it can hear my thoughts.
“Now lets see. Hmm, well haven’t you had the odd life. I can see you have great courage, and determination. But, you have such knowledge, and a thirst to learn more. But there’s darkness here too, anger. A battle between the good that so radiates from you, and the dark which holds a small part close to your heart. Well, what would you choose, the light or the dark?”
He then spoke out, to her grandfather.
“Just like her grandfather.”
With a grin on his face, Dumbledore took the hat off of her head.
“He didn’t say what house I was in”
“He’s an odd fellow, you’re in Gryffindor. Like myself.”
“Oh, that’s good! Will they have a bed ready for me and everything?”
Dumbledore looked around for the moment, contemplating.
“It may take a few moments, but I shall ring down to the house elves and they will prepare a room in the Gryffindor house.” Dumbledore began to pace the room.
Rather oddly, Adora thought, he stuck his head in the fire, which was a bright green colour. Adora could hear the mumbled sound of him talking, but could not make out the words.
“Your room will be ready in 10 minutes, they are putting an extra bed in with the fourth year dormitories.” Dumbledore continued his pacing.
“Fourth year? Aren’t I supposed to be a fifth year student?”
“Yes, yes you are. It is my opinion, however, that you will be better suited in fourth year classes.”
“I’m not stupid! I do have knowledge of the wizarding world and everything, my grandmother taught me!” Adora couldn’t contain her hot temper, and suddenly felt rather guilty for getting angry at her new founded relative.
“I did not imply you were stupid, I merely thought it would be better suited for you to get a handle on what school life is like, and not be overworked with the work fifth years have to handle. Like their OWLs for instance.” His voice was calm and soothed Adora’s temper.
“It is alright, my child.” Dumbledore once again continued his pacing.
Ten minutes had passed and there was a timid knock on the door. Dumbledore opened the door to reveal and small, wrinkly house elf. Unlike the many house elfs Adora had read up on, this one did not wear the typical house elf uniform. At this time he was wearing a fluffy tea cosy upon his round head, with holes cut out for his large ears. On one foot he wore a filthy black sock and on the other a stripy one which seemed rather newer.
“Professor Dumbledore called for the room to be done and Dobby did the room Sir, just as master asked!” The voice was squeaky and a lot louder than Adora had expected it to be.
Dumbledore was smiling kindly at the little, wrinkled house elf. He then beckoned for the elf to lead the way and he began to cheerily speed walk down the stairs. Dumbledore and Adora followed.
They continued on their journey until they reached a painting of a sleeping women, who was rather fat in Adora’s opinion. As Dobby was in front of the odd assemble he was the first to attempt to wake the snoozing picture, but his attempt was failing miserably. Dumbledore politely nudged the house elf aside and began to talk to the fat lady.
“Do you know what time it is you annoyi- Oh! Headmaster, I didn’t know it was you, please accept my sincerest apology!” The fat lady was still apologising when they walked through the portrait door into the Gryffindor common room. Adora twirled around in the common room, the red and gold became a bright whirlpool of colours as she became caught up in the moment.
“Perhaps, you are ready for bed now Adora?” Dumbledore’s voice was calm and slightly amused as he looked fondly at Adora.
With one last cheerful glance at the cushioned armchairs, smouldering fire and scattered papers, Adora turned towards her grandfather.
“I am afraid this is where we depart. Although I am the headmaster, Hogwarts still forbids any male to set foot in the girls dormitory. Dobby will show you where your bedroom is and where you will lay your head for the year. You are given your schedule for the year tomorrow morning at breakfast. I bid you goodnight Adora, my child.” Dumbledore gave Adora one last smile before striding over to the portrait hole and disappearing through it.
“Goodnight, grandfather.” Dumbledore had already departed.
The room had four sleeping figures, some snoring softly, all in four poster beds with trunks at the end. Dobby’s small hand grasped Adora’s and he pulled her over to a similar bed in the furthest, darkest corner of the room.
“Dobby brought your trunk up, night night.” The little house elf squeaked merrily as he skipped out of the room.
All of Adora’s belongings lay patiently on top of the trunk. The excitement of the day was rapidly turning to exhaustion, so Adora hastily changed into her pyjamas and jumped into the amazingly warm bed. The tension of the day disappeared magically as the warmth of the bed transferred to Adora’s tense body. All the drama of the day didn’t even process in her mind as the day and its adventure caught up with her exhausted mind and she fell into a deep sleep.