Disclaimer- I don't own the whole Harry Potter thing, just my story ideas!(:
Meeting with Dumbledore
I walk to the portrait of the fat lady and give the password. I then change into a pair of comfy pajamas, brush my teeth and descend into the land of dreams.
When I wake up there is sunlight streaming onto my bed. I look at the clock, only to see that I've slept until lunch time. I groan and sit up. Just when I'm about to go back to bed and sleep the day away, I remember that I have a potions essay due on Monday. Which is tomorrow. Oh shit! I have to write two and a half feet! I run to the shower and quickly get clean. After pulling on some jeans and an old shirt, I rush into the great hall and grab a sandwich. After scarfing it down, I head to the library, which is empty except for Harry Potter. He looks up at me as I enter and, with a small smile, waves me over.
"So I'm not the only one who left the potions essay to the last minute?" He asks. "Ha, nope." I sit down next to him and pull out my own blank piece of parchment. I also grab my textbook and a quill. I start to work on it. The first bit is always the hardest for me. Once I get going though, it always goes pretty fast. It seems to be the opposite for Harry over there. After he gets his first paragraph done, he just sort of stares at his paper hopelessly. Within a half hour, I have my first foot done and Harry still hasn't moved from his first couple paragraphs. I sigh and push away my essay, telling Harry to read what I have and get some ideas. I then pull his over to replace mine and make a few adjustments to what he has done. I then sit back and wait for him to finish. We swap again and he thanks me. In another half hour, I'm finished and am just writing extra to get more points. Harry seems to have gotten stuck yet again, but this time he has just over a foot. I repeat my actions from earlier, letting him read what I have and fixing what he has. After we swap back again, I put on a closing paragraph and decide to wait for him to finish. I wanted to read up on parselmouths anyways. I put away my potions stuff and wander into the language section. After a few minutes I see a book that looks promising. It's entitled "Charming the Snake: All there is to know about humans talking with their scaly friends." I go back and sit next to Harry once more, reading my book as he finishes his essay.
After an hour, I know that you can't learn parseltongue, and that if you are a parselmouths, you're automatically fluent in the language. I also know all about several spells that have to be said in parseltongue. I go to put my book away, and when I come back Harry's essay is finished. I read it over and fix it one last time. After that we just sit around talking. When Harry next looks at his watch, it's dinner time. We walk down to the great hall, and that night I sit with Harry, Ron and Hermione instead of Fred, George, and Lee. Hermione looks thrilled at the prospect of female company for a change. I spend the rest of the day with her and Cocoa.
Monday comes, and classes begin again. I get an O on my essay, and Harry gets an E, which, is the average Gryffindorian equivalent to an O. The rest of my classes go as usual.
Nothing more interesting than my newfound friendship with Harry happens until Charms on Halloween day. Hermione and I are walking behind Seamus, Dean, Harry and Ron. Ron starts talking about how horrible Hermione is, and she and I both hear. She has been harboring a crush on him since the first week of school, and this really hits her hard. She runs away crying. I want to run after her and comfort her, but first and foremost, Ron has to be dealt with. I hear Harry tell him, I think she heard you," which, to me, is not the right thing to say. I stomp up in front of them all.
"Ronald Weasley, you are the most insufferable prick I have ever had the misfortune to meet! How dare you say that about Hermione? She was trying to help you! Did you see her running away crying? That was all because of you. You caused her that pain, those tears. How does that make you feel Ronald? Knowing you, it probably makes you feel damn proud." I am growing taller with every word I say, and my eyes have turn black as pitch while my hair has turned red. Not as in a Weasley red, an obviously unnatural shade of red that seems to embody fire itself. He is all but cowering in front of me. I now round on Harry. "And you!" I begin in a low, deadly voice. "I am so far past disappointed in you Harry. I expected so much more of you. Just sitting by and letting that happen, and then, when Hermione is crying about it, telling Ron that you think she heard him, totally unfeelingly? You didn't even think of poor Hermione, you didn't even mention the fact that Ron was so far in the wrong that it seems quite possible that he has never been right about anything! I can't believe I ever thought you were any better than Ronald." I finish in a whisper and slowly turn back into my normal self. I walk away and go find Hermione. Knowing her, she's in the library. I go and check there, but she isn't there. I then go through and check almost every girls' bathroom, and finally find her. I get her out of her stall and just let her talk. I ask if she wants to go to classes and lunch, but she says no. I decide that helping my friend is more important than getting a good grade and stay with her. She talks it all out, and come dinner time we're laughing and joking around about the way Ron eats so disgustingly.
Suddenly, a horrible stench fills the bathroom. For a moment I think that the toilets are backed up, but we then hear a loud grunt. Moments later, a huge mountain troll comes in the bathroom and the door is shut and locked. We scream.
Harry and Ron run into the bathroom, and Ron knocks it out with its own club. Just then a bunch of professors come in. McGonagall asks what we were doing, and Hermione starts talking.
"I had read about mountain Trolls-" I immediately know what she is going to try and do.
"And so had I. I thought that I could come and get rid of it-"
"And I thought I could to, so I came with her. Then-"
"The troll was about to kill us when Harry and Ron came in and-"
"If they hadn't have come found us-"
"We would probably be dead." I finish. Hermione shoots me a large smile. This way, she won't be the only one in trouble.
"5 Points from Gryffindor for looking for the troll, and 10 points to Gryffindor for Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley's heroic actions. Now go back to your common room, all of you," McGonagall says. We all head back, contemplating what happened, and also knowing that we had all just become friends.
Two weeks later, A burly seventh year hands me a scroll. I open it to find a note from-of all people- Dumbledore.
I believe it is time for you to know yourself. Please come to my office tomorrow at six in the evening. The password is Toffee. Thank you.
Professor Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Drumbledore
Oder of Merlin, First Class,
Supreme Mugwump of the international confederation of Wizards,
Head Warlock of the Wizengamot
I carefully fold the note up and put it on my bedside table. I wonder what Dumbledore could possibly mean by that? Maybe he has decided to tell me how I ended up a parselmouth. That would be rather helpful. I don't think that wondering about it until tomorrow will help anything though, so I'm going to go and hang out with Fred, George, and Lee. They'll give me a laugh, that's for sure.
I lightly knock on the door to Dumbledore's office, and it comes open. I walk in to find it void of any people, excluding myself. There is a small Phoenix on a perch by Dumbledore's desk. I go over and pet it. The bird look to be just about a month old at the most. Instead of feathers, its covered in soft fuzz. Suddenly it hops onto my shoulder and nuzzles me. I smile and giggle softly. "Well aren't you a cute little thing!" I whisper to it as I pick it up off my shoulder. I scratch its head a little, and then Dumbledore walks in.
"I see you have discovered Fawkes! He certainly seems to like you," Dumbledore says amusedly as I place Fawkes back on his stand. "Yeah," I say. I wonder why he called me to his office? Did he find out about me being out after hours? Surely that doesn't warrant a trip to the headmaster's office!
"I would assume that you're wondering why I have called you to my office." Dumbledore says. It's like he can read my mind! Dumbledore fixes me with a piercing gaze. I feel like he's x-raying me with his eyes. "Miss Woodrow, I would assume that you've discovered that you're a parselmouth?" While it was phrased like a question, it was stated as a fact. Unsure of how to respond, I nod. His eyes seem to be twinkling, almost mischievously. It sort of reminds me of him. His blue eyes are just so… Amazing. I can't help but be captivated every time he looks at me. Ugh! I need to stop thinking about him like this! He isn't going to ever see me as more than a friend, a partner in crime if you will. I look back at Dumbledore, and realize with horror that he has been talking and I have no idea what he said. He seems to know this.
"Miss Woodrow, I would request that you make and attempt to leash your wandering thoughts," he says with a knowing smile. I swear, that man can read minds! "Sorry, sir," I say meekly. "As I was saying, you may not know this, but apart from Lord Voldemort himself, you are the only known parselmouth. In addition, you also have an animagus form and are a metamorphomagus."
"Yeah, I know, I turn into a turtle and I can change how I look," I say, with a slight eye roll that seems to amuse the old man greatly. Finally he says, "There is also something else unique about you that I know you have yet to discover. Have you ever tried to do magic silently?" The twinkle in his eye is becoming more pronounced. "Uh, no, that's like, sixth year stuff, isn't it? There's no way I can do that, sir," I say. What exactly does the old man think I am? A descendant of Merlin or something? "Why don't you try to do a simple charm, such as Wingardium Leviosa, silently?" Dumbledore says gently. I give him a questioning look, but pull out my wand. I point it at a quill on Dumbledore's desk and think the incantation. To my surprise, the moment that the spell enters my mind, the quill begins to float upwards. I expected it to take way more willpower and concentration. I let the quill down and look at Dumbledore in a combination of shock and curiosity. "Sir, how am I able to do that?" In answer, Dumbledore tells me to put down my wand and try the spell again, but this time I can say it out loud. I raise my eyebrows at him. Dumbledore looks pointedly at the quill. I turn and point my hand at the object and say the incantation. The quill floats into the air. I am so surprised that I immediately drop the quill and take a few steps back. I hear Dumbledore tell me to do that again without saying the incantation aloud. I take a shaky step forward and point my hand at the quill, thinking of the incantation. The quill floats up. It required no more concentration than had I been holding a wand. I collapse into the chair in front of the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore walks around and takes the seat behind it.
"Miss Woodrow, only a select few people can do silent, wandless magic. Two of those people are sitting in this room. There have only ever been two eleven year olds with the ability to do magic such as that. Only a select few people are parselmouths. I only know of two who are alive today, and one of them is not truly alive, which leaves you as the only one. Being an animagus and a metamorphomagus are both more common, though still rare traits. You are both. Miss Woodrow, I said that there were a total of two eleven year olds in history who had the level of magical skill you have. One of them is, of course, you. The other, was Merlin himself. I believe you are a descendant of Merlin." Well, this settles it all. The old man is completely bonkers.
"With all due respect sir, you are nuttier than a banana nut cake." I say firmly. Once again, the old man laughs. What in the mane of Merlin is wrong with this guy? Oh, that was a bad word choice…
Dumbledore's laughter subsides, and he begins to explain. "Miss Woodrow, You may not know this, but Merlin had a daughter. Before his wife, Niniane, entombed him in a stone, she became impregnated with his child. She gave birth to this child, but the child shared none of Merlin's good nature, having been raised by her manipulative mother. She was married to the most powerful wizard that could be found in the age, who happened to be Mordred. Many generations later, with all of the living descendants of Merlin too concerned by the fact of blood purity to pay any heed to the risks of in-breeding, the magic was weakened to become no more than ordinary magic. Eventually a daughter of the Merlin bloodline married into the Woodrow line. This daughter would be your three greats-grandmother. She gave birth to only one son, who in turn married and produced two daughters and a son, and then this son married and produced two daughters and two sons. One of the sons, Percival, married your grandmother, Amada, and they gave birth to your father. When your father married you mother and she gave birth to you, I am unsure how this happened, but the old magic and powers of Merlin were, to term it simply, reactivated, in you. You contain each of the powers that Merlin himself possessed. One day many years from now, you will be as great as him." Dumbledore finishes, looking at me gravely. Wow. That is all I can think of. This is just so much to process. "Of course, you will begin having private sessions with me in order to develop this power until it becomes greater than my own ability." I nod without really hearing him.
"Sir," I begin, "Is there any way for me to tell a couple of people without them thinking I'm lying, or without repeating what was said?" Dumbledore bows his head. "I think, Miss Woodrow, that in these circumstances, I will allow you use of my pensieve. Simply send word and we can choose a date for your group of people to view your memory of today's meeting."
I nod my head and then walk out of his office towards the Gryffindor common room. I know that I'll have to show Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Lee the memory, if for no other reason than that I can't stand to keep anything from them. But what should I do about Draco? I think he already knows about part of it, so I definitely need to talk to him and let him know what I know. Maybe he can even tell me more. I can hardly have him with a group of his most hated Gryffindors, he might, no, he will do something stupid. Plus half of them don't know I'm friends with him. I sigh. It looks like I'll just have to either tell him everything verbally, or ask Dumbledore for him and me to have a separate date from the rest of the Gryffindors. No matter which I choose, I need to talk to him and find out what he already knows.
I write a small not to Draco and then take it to the owlery for Sir Hoots A Lot to take to Draco. It says simply,
Meet me at the same time and place as last time tomorrow.
I send the letter and return to my Dormitory. I think I'll make an early night of it since, if Draco is agreeable, tomorrow with be a very long day. I drift to sleep with images of a certain pair of clear blue eyes with a mischievous gleam floating through my mind. Maybe, when I'm older, I'll tell Fred about how much I like him.
A/N- See, I updated sooner!(: