One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 78

Gwen was exhausted from the welcome feast.

As much as she truly loved Hogwarts, it was a stark change from her lazy days at the beach. Sirius tried to get her to go with him to the Gryffindor Common Room, but Gwen insisted that she just needed to rest. He let up at that, making her pinky swear that she would see him at breakfast the next morning.

Poor Peter had been just as tired. He'd narrowly avoided missing the express, the running having taken it out of him. He slept the whole ride, woke up for dinner, and then promptly left for bed. Even before Gwen did.

She rounds the corner, nearly to the winding staircase that will lead her to her common room. Just as she begins to wonder if perhaps Marlene will be spending the night in Ravenclaw tower, she sees something that stops her short.

Albus Dumbledore.

He stands stoically, peering out at the Black Lake through the tall glass windows. He looks pensive, confounded even. She blinks at him for a moment before sighing inwardly and approaching him.

"Evening, Professor."

The Headmaster jumps in surprise, eyebrows raised as he looks down at the Veela suddenly standing on his right. She too takes a moment to look out across the Hogwarts grounds. She feels a bit more serene now. She can almost pretend that it's as relaxed as the beach when night falls over the castle and everyone sleeps. Except for Peeves.

"Evening, Miss Whitlock. I take it you were expecting me?" His voice hints at his amusement, and as much as she'd like to be irritated, she cracks a faint smile and replies,

"Your letters hinted that we may have some things to discuss in person."

He lets out a noise of appreciation, smiling to himself and turning back to the window as he admits, "Professor Flitwick warned me you were a witch of very few words. I'd hoped perhaps you may be more vocal when we are face to face."

He pauses briefly before adding, "I also think it would benefit you to know that Orion and Wallburga Black have made a formal complaint about your presence at Hogwarts. They've threatened to cut their generous donations if you go unpunished."

Gwen let's out a hum of acknowledgement before facing him, asking genuinely, "And? How did you receive that complaint?"

"I don't take kindly to idle threats, something I believe you and I share."

She flashes him a rueful smile. He was right. The Veela straightens up and sighs, wondering flatly, "So you'd like to discuss these things here?"

When he shrugs she's struck by how he can look both so old and so young at the same time. Her lips twitch slightly and she answers his unspoken question, "I'm comfortable here."

Dumbledore nods once, but lowers his voice anyway when asking, "We're you successful with your practice this summer?"

Gwen returns her eyes to the window, nearly startled by the brief glimpse she gets of her reflection. A year. It had been a year and she still wasn't used to it. She huffs and replies, "In some ways."

She elaborates reluctantly when he remains silent, her own voice lowering as she says, "My charm is certainly easier...I can feel it. When I'm upset or I guess in a vulnerable position I can feel it."

Dumbledore nods in the corner of her eyesight, prompting her to explain, "Like when Orion Black grabbed my arm. I didn't get mad, because my charm was right there. It was like switching on a light, using it."

"Good. I think that's promising. What about—"

Gwen cuts him off, shaking her head as she murmurs, "No fire. Not yet."

Dumbledore turns to face her and she does the same, looking up into the face of the old Professor. He can tell what she's going to ask before she even formulates the words in her mouth.

"No, I don't think it's quite time for you to share with your friends. Believe me, Miss. Whitlock. They'll know in good time."

She sighs and asks a question that's been lingering in her mind, pestering her since she met with the headmaster last term,

"Do you plan to use me?" She wonders simply. He blinks at her over his glasses, pressing her curiosity more, "I'm willing to fight with The Order. I'm not exactly eager to be one of your chess pieces, Professor."

Dumbledore smiles slightly, asking, "Would it comfort you to know that your mother was an asset to an organization like that of the Order?"

His lips turn down when she replies curtly, "No, that's not comforting. Though I suspected she had been when you asked me to join your little club last term. I've considered the reason for her murder for a long time. People like Orion Black make it seem like a very large possibility that her death wasn't pleasant, and that it was for reasons that are old fashioned and prejudiced. But her fighting that means something. That's what comforts me, Professor. That her death means something. That's why I agreed to help you, not because it made me feel special."

She knows that Dorcas would ridicule her, tell her that she sounds unimpressed. Largely because she is. Gwen wasn't impressed by his initiative to fight in this war, people had been fighting evil for a long time. But at least he wasn't brash. At least he was willing to ask for help, help from people younger and less wise than him. She smiles slightly when a jovial laugh escapes him, her shoulder warming when he gently rests his hand there. Gwen briefly expected him to be angry, upset. She's surprised by the hint of pride twinkling in his eyes.

"You are not a creature of near human intelligence, Miss. Whitlock," Dumbledore finally says, his lips still turned up into an approving smile. She reckons she should cut him some slack, so she bites back a smart retort, instead saying quietly,

"Thank you, Professor. I won't let you down."

"No," He says simply. "I don't think you will. Hopefully I can live up to the same expectations. This is war, Miss. Whitlock. And it's approaching faster than we can prepare. I'm already grateful for your council."

Her council. Her heart warms, wondering if it's foolhardy to believe that Dumbledore genuinely takes what she has to say to heart. If he genuinely considers her a member of his council. She decides to leave it alone, instead tempering the flicker of pride as they both wordlessly turned back to face the windows.

She wasn't tired anymore.