Fatality

Chapter 15

Adria

Deep down I don't feel anything at all until my emotions ram through my minds barricade.

It takes my a few moments to move my mouth. "Professor," I say weakly, "there are so many flaws to that... Theory. You see I can't talk to snakes, as one as the heir of Slytherin would." I wait for him to hesitate, to show an crack in his carefully put story. To my dismay the great headmaster does no such thing.

"Child," Dumbledore says quietly. He honestly believes he is right, I am in utter disbelief in this. "That's the light in your story. You haven't been tainted by him. Not one bit. You see your mother did a very good job of hiding you. And Harry did a magnificent job at timing." Dumbledore looked around wistfully. "You can't be a copy of someone you haven't really met can you? That's why you're in Gryffindor, it is your personality, your choice and your fate that put you here. It's your fate that keeps you separate from darkness. It's you who keeps yourself pure." I don't answer him. Dumbledore has finally lost it, this great wizard lost his wits. I am witnessing his mental downfall.

He notices my hesitation and he peers at me through his glasses. "You grew up as you. Adria, that's who you will continue to be. As long as I am here you're safe. You are not him."

"Of course I'm not." I scoff. "Professor, I am a great admirer of your work and what you stand for, but this simply isn't true. Does anyone else believe this story?"

"A few members of the staff who I trust entirely. As for whom your mother told I am unaware. I am sure Voldemort wants you secret as long as possible. If you are worried for coverage you have a firm promise of secrecy." Dumbledore answers as if it was all matter of fact.

"I don't mean any disrespect, sir." I stand up shakily. "But this... This is ridiculous."

Dumbledore proceeds to get up too. "Take my hand." He puts forward one arm while keeping the other hand hidden from view. He looks at me, waiting for me to take it. I look back at McGonagall, my head of house. She nods softly.

The headmaster leads me to a round bowl. "A pensieve." I murmur.

"You've been doing your reading I presume." He says while messing with an assortment of glass vials.

"Well, of course. It stores someone's memories." I recite.

"This," Dumbledore empties a silver strand into the basin, "Is Theodore's memories. Theodore gave your mother that ring." I look down at my finger. I imagine my mother being happy, maybe even about to be wed. "He used to go by Theo when he went here. He really did like lemon drops." Dumbledore smiles yet again wistfully.

"Professor." I interrupt his train of thought.

"Oh. I visited him a short while back, afraid he's gone missing now. I managed to get this memory. May help you. Here we are. Thank you Minerva, you may go now." The liquid inside moves slowly as if almost moving backwards in time. Wordlessly both Dumbledore and I get sucked into the awaiting memory. It's like a falling sensation into a world that isn't your own.

Before me lies a small home, the windows were slightly foggy and the air smelled like newly fallen rain. In the distance a dog barks.

"Quaint." Says Dumbledore simply. A woman rushes down the street, a black rain coat hugged to her body. Her feet cause puddles on the street to spread but she doesn't seem to be worried about getting wet. She pulls the hood over her head as she knocks on the house door. Just then I notice a man through the window. He places down his book at the sound of feverish knocking. When he opens the door to usher her in Dumbledore leads me in too.

"Theo!" She rushes over to the man and hugs him tightly. Her body starts to rack itself with sobs. When they part the man adjusted his glasses.

"Annabelle. Are you alright?" He asks. But his question is futile. Annabelle seems to be stricken with grief.

"That's her." I say quietly to no one in particular. I take in her heart shaped face and blue eyes. Her golden hair is bright against her dark coat. I yearn to reach out to her, just once.

"Annabelle just found out she was pregnant with you." Dumbledore explains over their hushed whispers. It is hard to hear them behind her panicked breaths and his quiet tone.

"It's him." Annabelle chokes out. "He who must not be named." Her whispers are rushed, as if each word is racing to be first out of her light pink lips.

"Are you sure?" The man whispers back. This is a stupid question. He looks intelligent enough, his hair is sticking in different directions as if he ruffled it recently and he wears simple brown reading glasses.

"You think I wouldn't be sure?" Annabelle steps away from the embrace, her cheeks flushing with color. I touch my own cheeks that burn similarly.

"I'm sorry it's just-" He begins. But my mother shushes him.

"I have to go."

"Wh-what?" Theodore grabs her arm softly.

"If... He comes looking for me he'll find you. Theodore, I can't let that happen." She again wrapped her coat closer.

The mans voice becomes thick with emotion. "I can help you hide. We can do it together."

"No." Annabelle's voice rings with finality. "You can't come. I love you, I do. I can't risk it. I'm going to hide the baby straight after she's born."

"She?"

Annabelle bows her head, her golden hair falling. "I just had a feeling."

"I bet you've even named her. Listen, Annabelle I can't let you go by yourself. It's my duty as your fiancé and friend." Theodore grabs a dark wooden wand laying on the coffee table.

Her eyes splash with new tears as she took at her own wand while murmuring an 'I love you' faintly. Then she licked her lips. "Petrificus Totalus."

Theodore freezes and falls backwards, his eyes open in shock and his wand is still gripped in his hand. "I'm sorry." Her voice cracks. My mother flies out the door. A few steps from the sidewalk she stops. She looks down at her stomach, soon to be swollen, and I swear I hear her say my name. I'm positive of it.

"I guess you can put two and two together." I almost forgot Dumbledore was even with me. "When Theodore was freed there was no trace of her. The only reason he let me acquire this memory was for you."

Dumbledore examines me closely. "Would you like to see more?"

"Not this. No." The only mental picture I have of my mother is terror and heartache. My mind burns.

I don't even realize the headmaster and I are being whisked out of the basin. Again I am standing in his office. The whole story comes rushing back to me. Every little part of my body felt numb. I am subconsciously aware of my mouth being open. Something strikes my heart, something I've never felt this strongly.

Truth.

"No." I murmur. "No." I stumbled backwards, nearly sending his chair falling back.

Dumbledore can't make memories and that was definitely was my own mother.

Mental walls I had put up so neatly before crumble into delicate debris. Innocent, mature, wise, and careful Adria. That's who I was. But suddenly, I didn't see that at all anymore.

Warm tears splash onto my robes. I feel prickly with electricity like every cell of mine is on fire. I bolt from the study, nearly falling over. I can't see through the tears gathering in my eyes. My body lurches forward as if I am going to be sick. My stomach gurgles. I ignore someone calling my name. Their voice sounds distant. Everything feels disconnected, unreal.

But I know what was worse, was all too true.