ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

62〝sixty-two〞

"THERE IS NO DOUBT," CONTINUED Dumbledore, "as you have just demonstrated, that you have an exceptional grasp when it comes to your great-grandfather. Of course, he was most prominent. Your great-grandmother, on the other hand, was a character of the shadows. She had laid low for most of her life, and, thus, I do not believe your knowledge of her does itself justice.

"You see, Ellis, she is what is known as a Maledictus—a female who, from birth, carries a blood-curse that ultimately transforms her permanently into a beast, which, in her case, happens to be a snake. It is because of her that you are able to understand Parseltongue—and, incidentally, that you have suffered all you have suffered."

Ellis's head was now hurting a lot, and the influx of information didn't help at all. She couldn't seem to stop her brain from buzzing with the words "curse," "snake," and "suffered." She frowned at Dumbledore still, as though it might expedite the assimilation process—it did not. She shifted her gaze to Professor Snape, who looked grave, but no where near shocked nor bewildered—he knew... Feeling stung, Ellis shot her eyes back at Dumbledore.

"Are you saying I'm a Maledictus?" said Ellis, perplexed.

"No," replied Dumbledore simply. "The affliction of a Maledictus is passed down at birth from mother to daughter. As your great-grandmother only ever bore a son, I do not believe the blood-curse has been transferred along."

"Then...what did you mean by she's the reason I've suffered?"

Dumbledore drew a deep breath, as though for strength.

"It is my understanding, and correct me if I'm mistaken, Ellis," he said, "that you have extracted from your mother the notion that you are—in her terms—'a jinx,' have you not?"

The idea of being a jinx was ingrained in Ellis so that it was no longer a conscious thought. Yet, it never seemed to become easier to talk about. A lump swelled in her throat, she nodded curtly.

"Then, I am afraid, you do not have the full picture."

"What full picture?" demanded Ellis, her discomfort evolving into displeasure. Surely, he was not going to spin himself out of this one.

His face that was usually wrinkled by benignity now contorted seemingly with pain, Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"Again, I seek your pardon, though (as I understand it) you boast little affection for your mother. Nevertheless... When your mother first alerted me that you required training in Legilimency, she provided an honest account of her motivation. Of course, being under the impression that it was my duty—and do not mistake this as an attempt to suggest otherwise—she saw no reason to conceal the truth; in fact, the truth ought to guarantee my support. Naturally, it did.

"What's more: it piqued my curiosity—to the point of obsession, I must confess—as to how much you have uncovered. I invited her to meet in person, under the pretext of discussing the appointment of Professor Snape as your private tutor, and as she refused to travel to Hogwarts, I offered to call at your London home. She agreed reluctantly, but she agreed nonetheless, and it was there where I seized the opportunity to delve into her mind.

"I discovered for myself that she was incognizant of the entire truth that brought about your apparent—for want of a better word—malediction. This was perhaps to my expectation, for her attitude had foreboded it, and after all, it had been decades since the original curse was cast—details were bound to go astray over the years. Be that as it may, it should be noted that all your mother knew was fact; it was merely incomplete.

"And now," said Dumbledore, his tone becoming still more severe, "for the full picture, it is necessary to start at the very beginning. Your great-grandmother, when she learnt that she was with child, did not approach the biological father, your great-grandfather, with whom she shared only a single affair, but rather, her lover at the time. He was a wizard, very powerful, albeit very emotionally-broken...my brother."

"Your brother?" spluttered Ellis, disconcerted.

"In a manner of speaking..." Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Most unfortunately, she had hitherto never known him in the biblical sense, and in spite of her subsequent efforts, he was not to be seduced into believing the baby was his own. It was beyond question that he found out the true identity of the father, and once having considered your great-grandmother as a confidant, your great-grandfather a mentor, felt royally betrayed.

"Jealous and resentful, he inflicted a vicious curse on the unborn boy's fate and bloodline, dictating only one heir could be produced per generation, which would always be male, so as to forbid the name's extinction and have the family bear the shame for all of eternity; which would be devoid of magical endowment, but would bear qualities fit to charm a witch, whom he was destined to marry; which would not live long, just adequate to procreate and slightly more, perhaps only to witness his own son's deficiency. He even saw to it that any violations were to be precluded by the mind itself—admirably meticulous!

"But, in his youth, he was at the mercy of inexperience. He could not have foreseen that the complexity of his curse would be its very undoing. Three generations on the curse's effect was on the wane, and your parents were exposed to a lure their predecessors never had to resist: the temptation of trying for another child. They rose to the bait.

"The curse, weakened though it was, was still binding. It made away with any other male that threatened to enter the lineage. It did not, however, have any instruction for when it encountered a female—a clear (and detrimental) miscalculation on the deviser's part.

"Magic, ancient and enduring, on the contrary, is a delightfully intelligent force. It despises little, except to be repressed. And as forces go, every action requires an equal and opposite reaction—even if after decades. It retaliated, backfiring: it wiped out the last standing element of the curse, thus dismantling that by which it had been subjugated. You are all too familiar, I am certain, with the event to which I am referring." Here Dumbledore paused, and gazing meaningfully at Ellis, resumed, "Bearing the aforementioned in mind, Ellis, you ought to accept the evidence that it had not occurred due to fault on your part; you were merely a pawn, a means by which magic could get even."

She supposed she should be relieved, but Ellis was only dazed. Dumbledore's speech was still running.

"It is true: there is no question that you—the eldest daughter of your parents—would always have been caught in the crossfire, but it does not mean that you, specifically, are responsible for what happened, because you are not.

"You were chosen, as rudimentarily as a wand chooses its owner. Magic that had been quashed out from three separate boys, magic that still resides in the depths of their genealogy, chose, in its free rein, to converge upon the first girl (since the curse) to be born to the line of Grindelwald: you.

"It is therefore that your magical faculties present themselves to significant degrees; be it your affinity with magical creatures, your flair for Quidditch, your Legilimency—"

"Is that how I'm getting visions?" inserted Ellis.

"Now, that," said Dumbledore, seeming glad she had broached the topic, "your great-grandfather had hand in. I am sure you are aware that he was a rather accomplished Seer himself?"

Her brain whirring at what this alluded to, Ellis nodded.

"Manifestation of the so-called Inner Eye, however," Dumbledore went on, "has proven to vary vastly amongst individuals blest with the gift. Your great-grandfather, for instance, was unique in that he was one of already few Seers who obtained actual sight—as opposed to rendering enigmatic verses—of that which he foretells, an especial feature that, I believe, partially describes your own experience."

"But if I can see the future of people I touch," said Ellis, the gears of her brain in overdrive, "why couldn't I have seen...?"

She could not say it, but Dumbledore, his eyes glinting pitifully, comprehended.

"Alas, I cannot say..."