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SOMEHOW, all six children arrived at the house a few minutes apart from the other. Yet, no one wished to enter the house and face the horrible truth.
"Remus is always in charge," pointed out one of the Dumbledore children. "He should go in first."
Remus Dumbledore was not even given a chance to open his mouth before the door of the largest house in Elder Folk opened.
A man came out and recognized the six children surrounding the house.
Six children looked so different than how they did a couple of years ago. Six children that looked much more different than how they did a couple of years ago - a time when they were forced to wear uniforms to make their father happy.
"Hello children," he welcomed them with a nod.
Somehow, in a way that none of the children nor could I explain, they ended up all sitting at the same table they used to sit at for the three meals a day all those years ago.
Somehow, in a way that none of the children could explain and neither can I, they found themselves in an awkward and silent situation.
At least, it was silent until the one at the head of the table started speaking.
A child let go of his fork gently and listened to his father. That was what Hound March always did when he was younger and that was what he was doing even now, years later.
The youngest child in the family continued playing with his food. That was what Hound December always seemed to do. Maybe it was a tactic he inherited along with the powers he got that nobody asked for.
Three children followed the one who was deemed the leader when they were younger. Those Hounds were July, September, and November.
The final and sixth Hound was previously deeming herself as the Invisible Seven. Her younger self thought it fit her powers and the way she was treated back then.
So, she continued eating because she knew her foster father could not give two shits. At least, that is how she put it as she grew up.
It was a dinner similar to many they had before at this very same table. Yet, there was one big difference I am wondering if you can spot in the memory I am about to narrate to you...
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They were seven children, way before what happened to Hound April.
I know that you are most probably curious about what happened to Hound April - otherwise known as Pandora Maizie Dumbledore - but that is a story that will not be told now. What happened to Hound April is a story for another time.
They were seven children, as I said, back in the past.
Sure, it was a past memory and not the present, yet it was the same exact scenery of what was happening in the present. They were sitting at the same exact table that they got to serve three different-time meals on.
There were seven children around the table and a man at the head of the table. That man was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
They were seven children, way before what happened to Hound April.
I know that you are most probably curious about what happened to Hound April - otherwise known as Pandora Maizie Dumbledore - but that is a story that will not be told now. What happened to Hound April is a story for another time.
Yet, that is not the change I wish to tell you about because the children had ten years, give or take, to have gotten used to it. Even if one of them is still in the grief stage of denial of what had happened.
There were seven children around the table and a man at the head of the table. That man was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
The difference between this past memory and that present moment, children, is the presence of a certain person.
Minerva McGonagall was placing the dishes that were meant to be eaten for that day's dinner. They had a schedule each month, one the pleased Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall had to make.
That was the huge difference between this past memory and that present moment, children.
In this past memory, Minerva Giselle McGonagall - the foster mother of these seven children - was still very much alive and obviously seen.
In that present moment, Minerva Giselle McGonagall is deemed dead and that is probably the only reason six children had rejoined once more.
Do you get it now, children? Do you understand now?
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When dinner was over, each child showed themselves back to their old rooms. Some went there because Albus Dumbledore ordered it in an. advising way, while some would have gone to their old rooms either way.
They were sticking her for the funeral, they had told themselves. After that, they might grab the first plane ticket to whatever they deemed to be their home.
Sirius knew that Lily snuck out of her window like a teenage girl to go out and see that boyfriend of hers. He knew that because his room was the one adjacent to hers.
He wanted to wait up for her, like a little child who wanted to stay awake for the tooth fairy or even Santa Clause, but he was Sirius after all. That boy, even when he grew up as a man, got bored easily.
When he was younger, whenever he was younger, he would try out his powers and see how far he could get. Sometimes, he would create slight earthquakes thanks to his geokinesis. Usually, he would have more fun with his necromancy.
Once, when he was maybe seven or eight, he had the power to rise Abraham Lincoln from the dead and try to talk to him. Another time, I think he was almost eleven at that time, he and one of his sisters got the chance to talk to Alexander Hamilton.
Because he was bored, you should have probably guessed already that he started using his necromancy skills.
"What are you doing?" asked Remus Dumbledore as he knocked on the open door.
"What are you doing here?"
"Your door is open and Lily isn't here. Thought you might-"
"She's out, not that any of you might actually care," snapped Sirius slightly.
"What are you doing?" Remus asked again, changing the subject after a moment of silence.
"Trying to contact our dead mother," Sirius snapped for real this time, trying to concentrate on his powers rather than his older brother.
"Maybe she's busy," Remus hypothesized. "She was always a busy woman."
"She had time for us."
"Maybe she's busy," repeated Remus.
Little did Remus know that Sirius knew that was not how the dead, nor his powers, worked.
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This is yet another memory worth your time to hear. Well, it could be kept untold, but let us change the mood a bit. Let us remember some fun old times.
Sirius Dumbledore was around twelve in this memory and he had just returned from a wounded battle, or at least that is what twelve-year-old Sirius liked to call it. In reality, it was just a simple fight with a neighborhood kid who made fun of his brother Regulus.
"Sirius, what have I told you about your powers?" asked Minerva McGonagall kindly.
"Not to use them when they are not needed," Sirius muttered to the floor, swinging his legs.
"You scared that poor kid."
"He deserved it!" complained Sirius. "He made fun of Reggie just because he wasn't speaking to him. That mother-"
"Sirius," Minerva McGonagall warned.
"Sorry, Mom."
Pandora Dumbledore entered the room in a rush as if she was running to catch a train that was seconds away from departure.
"Good job," she hugged Sirius.
"Pandora! Don't encourage the behavior."
"He defended Reg in a time I could not because Dumbles had me locked in training," explained Pandora.
"Do not call your father Dumbles," their mother requested.
"Thank you," Pandora looked at Sirius as if their mother did not even utter a word.
"He's my brother too," shrugged Sirius.
"Yeah, he is," agreed Pandora, not used to someone else defending Regulus as much as she usually did.
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Back to that present time, children.
"What are you doing?" Remus asked again, changing the subject after a moment of silence.
"Trying to contact our dead mother," Sirius snapped for real this time, trying to concentrate on his powers rather than his older brother.
"Maybe she's busy," Remus hypothesized. "She was always a busy woman."
"She had time for us."
"Maybe she's busy," repeated Remus.
That conversation repeated in Sirius's brain around three o'clock in the morning. He could not sleep. Even after Lily returned around twelve-thirty, and thanked him, he could not fall asleep even if it would save him.
He was tired of twisting and turning in bed, so at three o'clock exactly, he removed the blanket quite dramatically and decided to try one more time.
He was going to try one more time to call Minerva McGonagall. He tried ignoring George Washington that was standing in the corner of his room and tried to focus on bringing Minerva McGonagall.
When it didn't work, the necromancer realized something.
"Where are you, Mom?" Sirius asked no one in particular, knowing quite well that his mother is most probably not dead.
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Where is Minerva McGonagall?