"But Albus!" Dahlia Dumbledore stormed around the headmaster's office, waving her hands around angrily. She had grown into a pretty girl, having just celebrated fifteen years as his ward. She'd inherited her mother's looks, except her hair was dark, falling in ringlets past her shoulders."I want to attend Hogwarts, not just live hidden here!"
Dumbledore observed his ward fondly, curious at her outbreak. She was usually a calm, reserved child. "There is too much at stake; if anyone - student or professor - were to find out about your... abilities... it would cause questions that we cannot answer."
Dahlia whirled about, anger flashing in her amber eyes. The magic in the room crackled to life, springing to the tips of her fingers. "Cannot answer? Or won't?" She challenged, glaring indignantly at her guardian
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but his ward cut him off again. Her usually tame hair was wild today, dark loose curls pointing at odd angles. Her amber eyes flashed dangerously. The perfect image of her mother - except for her hair - but she didn't know that.
"I cannot live my life hidden in the castle, Albus. It is more suspicious for me to remain hidden than it does for me to join classes as any other student!" Dahlia's amber eyes were filled with tears as she spoke with conviction. "Do you know how hard it has been for me to stay locked away the past three years with Harry Potter and his friends running around? How long honestly do you think until he finds out about the Room of Requirement? What other prison will you come up with to lock me in?" She threw herself into a chair at the end of her outburst, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the older wizard in front of her. Tears threatened to spring into her eyes but she fought them back.
Albus said nothing, just observed the young witch in front of him. She had grown into a beautiful young woman at fifteen. He had raised her as his ward, and as she grew older he began to notice certain... abilities she possessed that were stronger than the typical witch or wizard. Dumbledore thought back to the time Madam Hooch had taken her to the quidditch field one night about a year ago. Dahlia had fallen from her broom, but much to the surprise of himself and Madam Hooch she continued to fly... without a broom in a way known only to a few select wizards. Dumbledore's brow wrinkled at the thought. The ability to fly, without magic devices, was extremely difficult to master. Something that should be well beyond the ability of what would have been a third year student. What concerned him most was one day he had taken her on an excursion when she was eight, and she was resting under a tree. She lay on her stomach, her feet swinging in the air as her chin rested on her hands. When Albus approached her, he saw that she seemed to be having a conversation, only he couldn't see who it was. As he drew nearer, he noticed a Maledictus curled before her, it's head lifted. Albus's first instinct was to run for the child. Maledicti were known for their vicious behavior, as well as their dangerous venom. Before he could reach Dahlia, however, he realized that Dahlia was conversing with the snake. He had strained his ears trying to hear her words, but all that reached his ears was raspes. Until it hit him: She was speaking parseltongue.
Ever since that day, Dumbledore had made sure he had taken the young girl under his wing for all magic supervision. He'd found extreme brilliance in her mind, and her powers far out matched that of her peers. Those situations, combined with other strange things that had occurred through the years had him nervous to allow her to join a class of her peers; especially with the complicated situation of her birth.
"Well?" His young ward's voice broke him out of his reverie. "May I take classes?"
Dumbledore tapped his fingers against his desk for a moment before speaking slowly. She was right on one aspect; he couldn't keep her locked away for her entire life. She had shown extreme reserve and control this past year, and with her unknowing her past she would likely blend in with the other students, therefore maintaining the -
"Albus!"
Dumbledore huffed, raising his eyes to quirk his brow at the young witch in front of him. "You may attend classes -"
Dahlia squealed, rising from the chair to throw her arms around the headmaster's neck. Dumbledore embraced her for a moment, before setting her back from him to look her in the eyes.
"No one must know the extent of your powers. You are more powerful than any witch or wizard I have seen come through Hogwarts; myself included. We must not give anyone any reason to investigate you."
"I won't! I'll make sure I keep it under control." Dahlia threw her arms around his neck again, squealing. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Dumbledore patted her back kindly. "We will need to get you books and robes then."
Dahlia pulled back, face lit up with excitement. She jumped up and down, hands clapping. "Does this mean I finally get to go to Diagon Alley?"
__________________________________________________________________________
"Ms. Dumbledore!" Dahlia paused, uncomfortable at the use of her surname. She had grown up as Dumbledore's ward, and therefore had taken his surname as a child. However, since her true paternity was unknown, she preferred to just be called by her first name. Considering her main companions were Dumbledore or the houselves, she had never had to answer to her last name before.
"Yes?" Dahlia looked down the corridor behind her to find a professor scurrying towards her. The woman was tall, hair pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck.
"I'm Professor McGonagall; Professor Dumbledore sent me to fetch you for the sorting ceremony."
"Oh," Dahlia nodded warily, "I was just told to wait here until someone came for me." The butterflies in her stomach were becoming unnerving, and she felt bile rising in her throat.
"Yes, well," Professor McGonagall peered down her spectacles at the young witch in front of her. She was a stern looking witch who looked to be in her 50's. She had a no nonsense air about her, and a gaze that left Dahlia feeling as though the woman had seen her deepest secrets. "Dumbledore has appraised me to your unique situation. If you will follow me please," and with that the professor breezed by her.
Dahlia pondered for a moment exactly what about her "unique situation" Dumbledore had told her, but Professor McGonagall didn't wait for Dahlia to follow. Dahlia stumbled after her a moment later, following the professor into the Great Hall. She had been brought out through the entrance behind the teacher's table, not the great front doors like the first years which could be seen shuffling in, drawing most of the room's attention.
"Furthermore, this year, before we get on with the sorting, we have a new student!" Professor Dumbledore's voice boomed over the silence of the great hall. He must have just finished his speech. McGonagall gently nudged Dahlia forward, and she took a few hesitant steps towards the headmaster.
Dahlia kept her eyes forward, focused on Dumbledore as her feet moved slowly across the floor. Her feet felt like they were made of lead, and her heart was pounding in her chest. She felt the hundreds of pairs of eyes watching her as she crossed the stage.
"Dahlia Dumbledore, has been studying abroad, and has decided to transfer here for the remainder of her magical study!" Dumbledore turned to her, and kindly gestured her to his side. Dahlia accepted the hand he reached out to her as he affectionately smiled down at her. She returned his smile, thankful to have somewhere else to look than the hundreds of eyes staring at her.
The Great Hall erupted in whispers as the students talked amongst themselves. No doubt caused by her last name, as everyone knew Dumbledore had remained unmarried and childless. They were also probably curious as to why Dumbledore would send her abroad to study, when he was the headmaster of one of the finest wizarding schools already.
Dumbledore and Dahlia had crafted the lie the night before; deciding that it would be better to have attended a school abroad than to have been untrained for years. Of course, with Dumbledore as a guardian she was not untrained. The headmaster had spent hours with her, training her in defensive and offensive magic, as well as transfiguration and potions. The only subject the professor had lacked in teaching was Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, all of which Dahlia was ecstatic about taking at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had allowed her access to his own collection of books, so she had educated herself as best as she could on the subjects.
The Great Hall was still alive with quiet murmurs and gossip. Dahlia winced, knowing the curious stares and questions she would get later. Mentally she shook herself. Now wasn't the time; that was a later issue. Right now she needed to get through her sorting.
Dumbledore raised his hand, and instantly the Great Hall fell silent. "We will go ahead and sort Dahlia into her house first, and then proceed with the usual sorting."
That was Dahlia's cue to take the stool in front of the podium. She wobbled towards the stool, hoping none of the students could see how shaky her legs had become. She collapsed on the stool with relief, and waited as Professor McGonagall placed the old sorting hat on her head.
It went dark; the hat drooping below her eyes. The darkness that enveloped her calmed her, making it seem as though it was only her in the room and not hundreds of students watching. It was silent for a moment and then a quiet voice in her ear spoke.
"Hmmmm, interesting, interesting," the voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper, but she could hear it clear as day. Dahlia tensed, ready for the judgment to be made.
"Your father's blood runs strong... yes, yes. Cunning, brave... not a bad lust for power either. You'd make a good Slytherin."
Her body froze, and the cold panic she expected to rush over her never did. Dahlia had never been opposed to being in one house or the other; she had just simply desired to be attending Hogwarts. Living in Hogwarts her whole life she had picked up on many negative things about the Slytherins; especially their tendency to support whatever Dark Wizard was in power but the idea of being placed there she had always thought would bring a sense of dread, but none came.
"However, your mother's blood... how interesting. Predestined for two houses, aren't you?"
Predestined for two houses? What does that mean, Dahlia thought, hoping the hat could hear her thoughts.
"Ancestor of the Savior; child of the Dark one, who is to say where you belong? The mark of two founders, the sign of the prophecy child, you are darkness and light... I supposed since I cannot choose you must."
I must choose what? Dahlia thought back to the hat, his riddles playing over and over again in her head. What do you mean by my mother's blood?
"Choose your house, United One. Gryffindor will offer your bravery and nobility, and friends with loyalty unwavered. Slytherin will show you power, teach you cunning, resourcefulness, and will give you the ambition to be all you desire. Choose your destiny."
Her whole life she had lived, locked up in the room of requirement. Dahlia was allowed to prowl the castle, of course. Only at night, once the students and faculty had gone to bed. Her only friends had been Albus, and the house elves that took care of her. She'd always been so... alone. At that moment, she made her decision.
Gryffindor. She thought with certainty. I'm done being alone.
Unwavering loyalty sounded good to her.
"Better be, GRYFFINDOR!" The hat's voice magnified, expanding past her ear to reach the entire hall. The hat was lifted off of her head, and she rose from the stool, a smile on her face. She was shocked by the sight before her. She hadn't dared look up at the sea of students prior to her sorting, and she was now glad she hadn't. Hundreds of curious eyes were looking at her, the students separated into four huge, room-length tables.
Her thoughts were still spinning from the words the sorting hat had spoken as she propelled herself towards the table on the far left that had erupted into cheers. A crimson flag of a lion hung over the table, students representing their house colors of crimson and gold. As she approached the table people were shaking her hand, patting her back, and introducing themselves, smiling at her curiously.
Dahlia smiled as she greeted them all, doing her best to remember everyone's names. Faces all blurred together until she finally came to a stop at an empty spot on the bench. taking her seat next to a curly headed girl with a book.
"Hi, I'm Hermione." The girl turned to Dahlia, smiling softly. She closed the book in her lap, giving Dahlia a sincere, friendly look.
"Dahlia, nice to meet you." Dahlia shyly returned her smile as she slid her legs in beside the girl.
"You, too!" The other witch regarded Dahlia with curiosity. "Did the headmaster say your last name is Dumbledore?"
And so it begins, Dahlia thought as she plastered a fake smile on her face. "Yes, that's right."
"You're Dumbledore's daughter?!" Hermione's voice reached near shriek level.
Dahlia's face lit up in embarrassment as she ducked her head. "Keep your voice down!"
A guilty look flashed across Hermione's face as she furgitively looked around to see who had overheard her. A few students were regarding the two of them curiously, but no one seemed to have heard.
"I'm his ward," Dahlia explained in a hushed whisper. "I was left on the steps of Hogwarts as a baby, and Albus took me in."
"Oh!" Hermione instantly looked embarrassed and guilty for starting the conversation. "I... I am so sorry. I had no idea."
Dahlia brushed her off with a smile and patted her hand kindly. "It's not that big of a deal. It's just something I don't like people knowing."
Hermione nodded understandingly. "I won't speak of it; I swear."
Dahlia let out a small sigh of relief. Hermione seemed nice enough; maybe this could be the start of a friendship. "Thank you."
"Tell me all about studying abroad." Hermione turned to engage more fully with Dahlia, and dinner passed quickly as the two became quick friends. Once, Dahlia caught Dumbledore's eyes and received a questioning look. Dahlia withered under his glance for a second, her heart racing. Could he have heard the sorting hat?
"Hermione," Dahlia whispered to her new friend as a Ministry of Magic employee began to discuss the rules for a tournament Hogwarts was hosting this year. "Can everyone hear what the sorting hat says during the sorting?"
Hermione turned in surprise. "No, of course not! Whatever the sorting hat says while he is deciding where to sort you is private; no one else hears anything until he announces which house."
"Oh," Dahlia sagged in relief. Another thought crossed her mind, and she hesitantly spoke again. "You said the sorting hat chooses... does he normally give people a choice?"
Hermione looked at the new Gryffindor beside her. "Well... it's not unheard of."
"It's not?" Dahlia tried not to sound desperate.
"No, it happened to me." A male voice from Dahlia's right startled her. She turned to find green eyes that look similar to hers staring back at her. For half a second Dahlia processed the scar on his forehead, the glasses resting on his face, and the dark unruly hair before she realized she was looking at Harry Potter.
"It...what?" Dahlia seemed lost for words.
"The sorting hat," Potter prompted, sitting down next to her. "I heard you talking to Hermione, asking if it gives you a choice."
"The sorting hat gave you a choice?" Dahlia's eyes grew wide with relief to hear she wasn't the only one.
"Well, sort of. It never actually said "You have to choose". The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin, but I didn't want Slytherin. I asked for anywhere but Slytherin, so the hat decided to choose Gryffindor."
Since I cannot choose, you must.
The sorting hat's words echoed through her mind. While the hat had taken Harry's choice into consideration, Dahlia had been given a choice. The feeling that that had not happened before was gnawing at her, but she remained silent. No need to give anyone else another reason to think she was different other than the fact she was Dumbledore's ward.
Dahlia barely heard a thing the Ministry official was saying about the Triwizard tournament. They announced the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, here for the year to participate. The whole time she avoided her guardian's curious gaze, wondering if somehow he had heard the choice the hat had given her.
After dinner the houses were dismissed to their common rooms, but before Dahlia could slip away with the rest of her fellow Gryffindors Dumbledore stopped her.
"A moment, Ms. Dumbledore?" The headmaster spoke formally. They had agreed to keep their relationship as professor and student while in front of students and faculty.
"Yes, headmaster?"
Dumbledore waited a moment as the last few students filed from the Great Hall. When only a handful of students remained her guardian leaned down and murmured in her ear. "You chose well."
Dahlia's heart jumped, realizing the headmaster had indeed heard the sorting hat's words. "Alb - Professor, what d-"
"Not here, Dahlia," the headmaster's voice turned harsh, warning her that this was not the place. "We will speak later."
"Okay," Dahlia nodded numbly as Dumbledore stepped away from her, leaving her alone in the Great Hall. She paused for a moment, tightening the strap on her bag around her shoulder. She just realized that for the first time she didn't know where the Gryffindor common room was.
"Lost?" A snooty voice rang out from behind her. Dahlia turned to find a pale boy, with beautiful grey eyes and platinum hair approaching her. She observed him for a moment, noting the way he carried himself with a careless manner. His voice was haughty, as though used to having everything handed to him. His face was regal, but beautiful. She had to jerk her attention away from his face, a slight blush tinging her cheeks.
"No... well, yes," Dahlia decided it was best to just admit she needed help finding her common room.
"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The blonde stuck out his hand to her, and she took it hesitantly. His hand was larger than hers, but soft. It enveloped hers in a warm embrace, that was cut short when he hastily removed his hand from her grip.
"Dahlia," the witch answered simply, falling in step next to the wizard.
"You got sorted into Gryffindor, right?" The disgust in his voice was barely hidden.
"Yes," Dahlia said, mentally correcting him to chose Gryffindor.
"Not much for you in Gryffindor, but I suppose you'll find that out on your own. Potter's got the whole house wrapped around his finger. Blood traitors and mudbloods, the whole lot of them," the blonde spoke hatefully. Dahlia's own temper flared at the boy's harsh words.
"I met Potter and his friends at dinner, and they seemed more kind than some people. But, then again, I don't base my friendships based on blood status."" Dahlia shot back at him, regretting her decision to walk with him to her dormitory. Being raised by Dumbledore had left little room for judgements, blood purity and status being something left out of her curriculum. She knew the discord it brought on the wizarding world, some viewing muggle-borns as unworthy, others accepting.
"I'm a pureblood," Draco boasted proudly, seemingly unaffected by her sharp words. "Got a long history of wizards in my family. What about you?"
Dahlia felt her lip curl into a sneer worthy of the Slytherin next to her. "I don't know."
The boy next to her shot her a sharp glance. "What do you mean you don't know? Aren't you Dumbledore's daughter?"
Ahh, there it was again. The real reason he had offered to help her find the Gryffindor common room. He wanted to interrogate the headmaster's daughter.
Dahlia's nostrils flared as she exhaled sharply, spinning to face him. "I hate to disappoint, but actually, I'm not his daughter, I'm his ward. I was abandoned as a baby and Albus took me in. I haven't got the slightest clue who my birth parents are, nor about my blood status."
Malfoy didn't respond to her, just simply continued walking in silence. Dahlia felt a slight surge of pride at having shut up the Slytherin boy, but her joy was short-lived.
"You should be in Slytherin," Malfoy drawled as they turned a corner.
"How should you know where I belong?" Dahlia retorted, not forgetting his unkind words about her housemates moments before.
Malfoy seemed taken back by her attitude, but recovered quickly. "I just figured with you being new here and all, joining late would be hard on you. You'll need friends."
Dahlia stopped walking, and looked at the handsome boy beside her. "Is this your way of offering to be my friend?"
Malfoy didn't seem to know what to respond, his jaw opening and closing. "No, I was simply trying to warn you to not make the wrong friends."
Dahlia rolled her eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of making those decisions for myself, thank you very much."
Malfoy took her answer in silence, his legs quickening their pace. Dahlia found herself trotting to keep up. Her companion walked alongside her in silence, looking straight ahead. An amused smile tugged at the corners of Dahlia's mouth. Malfoy... they were a Slytherin family; an ancient pureblood family that could be traced back centuries. No wonder he was so haughty and pompous. He was probably heir to a fortune and name that would guarantee him anything he wanted for the rest of his days. Despite his haughty manner and rude words, Dahlia felt a draw to him. He was... a puzzle. He intrigued her, so she followed the Slytherin through the corridors and up to a tower until they came to a stop abruptly in front of a large painting.
"This is your common room." The Slytherin boy turned to smirk at her, finding amusement in her confused look. "I'll leave you to you new friends." He sneered the last words, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile.
Dahlia tried to keep the smirk off her face as she watched his retreating back. "Malfoy?"
The Slytherin paused, his back to her.
"If you wanted to be my friend, all you had to do was ask."
The Slytherin disappeared without another word, and Dahlia was stuck outside the common room without the password.