The Fire You Touch

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 6: Audition For The Headmaster

Still in karate mode, Aeryn dropped into a protective crouch, readying to fling the intruder against the wall if he so much as twitched in Harry’s direction.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!" Harry blurted from behind her.

The intruder smiled. "Mr. Potter." He was an old man, with long silvery hair streaming to his waist, and a white beard that stretched down the front of his flowing, purple robes. "Ten owl posts in the past six days. I must say, I admire your determination, but don’t you think your owl should have been given a bit of a rest?"

Harry looked a bit sheepish. "This was important, Headmaster."

"So I gathered from your enthusiastic messages." With a wizened hand, the man motioned to the cookies and tea sitting on the table. "Why don’t you sit down, Mr. Potter."

Harry gaped at the man for a second, but then his thin face split in a huge smile and he hopped over to the coffee table.

Aeryn, still crouched in defensive position, was looking more and more bewildered as her gaze switched from Harry, to the old man, and back to Harry again.

"Your friend appears confused," the man said, his eyes twinkling over his half-moon shaped glasses.

"What are you doing in my home?" Aeryn squeaked in outrage.

"Aeryn." Harry flopped back against the couch, taking a bite of a cookie. "Aeryn, it’s okay, this is Headmaster Dumbledore."

The old man swept his pointed hat off his head and gave Aeryn a brief nod. "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at your service." Setting his hat on a cushion beside him, he sat down on Aeryn’s couch and poured himself a steaming cup of tea. "Your cupboards are quite tidy, Miss Blake. I hope you don’t mind that I went through them—you weren’t at home and I was getting a bit hungry."

"What…" Aeryn stammered weakly.

Albus Dumbledore bit into a cookie and gave a murmur of appreciation. "Delicious. I must get your recipe. But in answer to your previous question, I Apparated, of course." Dumbledore poured another cup of tea. "Much tidier and quicker than Floo powder, of course, which helps if one happens to be running on a schedule." He held the cup out to her. "Sugar, my dear?"

Aeryn sat down quite suddenly. Now that the adrenaline had drained from her muscles, she recognized the man sitting in front of her. His face had been plastered throughout the later chapters of A History of Magic. Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Harry’s school…a real wizard, her mind whispered despairingly, a wizard who, according to Harry, was the greatest and most powerful wizard who had ever lived.

"Young Mr. Potter has been quite adamant about you in his letters," said Dumbledore quietly after Aeryn had taken a long, bracing sip of tea. He held out a thick packet of parchment to her. With only a moment’s hesitation, Aeryn took the packet and began to thumb through it. It was a stack of letters, all in Harry’s bold, slightly sloppy handwriting.

Headmaster Dumbledore,

the top letter read:

I’ve met a witch. Well, not exactly a witch—she’s got magical powers, but she doesn’t know how to use them. She’s never attended a wizarding school—she tried to explain to me how it works in America, but I didn’t quite understand it. Headmaster, I think she’s really powerful, if she was trained in her abilities. Do you think Hogwarts would accept a twenty-year-old first-year student?

Please owl me back.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Aeryn glared accusingly at Harry, but he had become engrossed in the dregs at the bottom of his teacup and wasn’t looking at her.

"When I received Mr. Potter’s first post, I was extremely busy and neglected to reply to him," Dumbledore said calmly as Aeryn ruffled through the remaining nine letters. "I was swiftly deluged in several more letters in the same vein before I was finally able to reply."

Aeryn held up a different letter.

Headmaster Dumbledore,

You say there has never been an entering student over eleven in all the years you’ve been headmaster. Does that mean that there

never can be an older entrance to Hogwarts, or it just hasn’t happened yet? I know I’ve been annoying you, but I can’t help feeling that Aeryn is a special case. I can’t explain it—it’s just a feeling I get. You told me once that if anything happened to me, I should keep you informed. Well, I think this is something. Please owl me back.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Even though her stomach was gurgling like she had swallowed a handful of Mexican jumping beans, Aeryn couldn’t help grinning at Harry’s gumption. Well, the posts certainly explained Hedwig’s odd hours lately.

"Blake." Aeryn looked over at Dumbledore. His fingers were steepled under his long nose, and there was a musing gaze in his eyes. "There was a Blake, many years ago, who was invited to attend Hogwarts…one of the only students who declined the invitation, if I remember correctly…Roger, I believe his name was…"

Aeryn’s heart plummeted to her toes. "That was my father," she choked, her throat dry.

Dumbledore nodded pensively. "He could have been a very powerful wizard," he informed her quietly.

Aeryn swallowed. "I know," she said curtly.

"So he taught you all you know." Dumbledore reached a hand into the volumous sleeve of his robe and pulled out a long, slender wand. It took Aeryn a second to realize it was her father’s mail-order wand, which she had never gotten around to putting away after Friday morning. He held it out to Aeryn, his eyes sparkling. "I wonder if you’d be so kind as to show me a few of the things he’s taught you."

Aeryn froze. Behind Dumbledore, Harry leaned forward on the couch, mouthing the words do it to her, his thin face very serious. Suddenly, Aeryn began to sweat. Deceiving Harry had been one thing—that had been more accident than anything else—but trying to fool one of the most powerful wizards in history was a different story.

Aeryn smiled sickly at Dumbledore. "Um…can you…give me a second…" She rose to her feet and stumbled into the kitchen, her face paling with each step. She hurried to the sink and turned on the water, thrusting her wrists under the cool stream. Aeryn breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

Footsteps echoed against the kitchen tile. "Aeryn?"

Aeryn turned with a jerk. Harry stood behind her, concern etched across his face. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Why did you write to him, Harry?" Aeryn growled. Her wet hands were trembling.

"I…" Harry’s face fell. He swallowed, but determination burned in his eyes. "You can do magic, Aeryn. You don’t belong in the Muggle world, and you don’t have to clean houses for the rest of your life."

For the first time, Aeryn realized that Harry was slightly taller than her. Granted, five-foot-one wasn’t very tall, but Harry was only eleven. His emerald-green gaze caught and held her eyes.

"Your dad was a wizard, and he wanted you to be one." He stepped towards her, his voice low but with a note of urgency that carried over the sound of the running faucet. "This is your chance, Aeryn!"

Aeryn slumped against the countertop. Harry was right, of course. This was her chance, finally, after five years…but all she wanted to do was run screaming from her flat. Harry stared at her intently. "Harry…why?" she moaned despairingly.

Harry bit his lip. "Because you’re my friend, Aeryn." His emerald-green eyes flickered away from her, and he shrugged contritely. "I’m sorry. I only wanted to help you out."

Aeryn, you idiot.

He turned to go back into the living room, but Aeryn’s hand shot out and grasped his hand. Stifling a sob, she pulled Harry towards her into a firm hug. "No…I’m sorry, Harry. Thank you. Thank you." She hoped he couldn’t feel her body shaking. She bit her lip and exhaled heavily. "I’m just…in shock. That’s all."

Harry hugged her back tightly. "Don’t worry. It’ll be all right," he reassured her. He pulled away, a smile returning to his face. "Dumbledore wouldn’t have come if he didn’t think you were something special."

If he only knew.

Aeryn shut off the faucet and allowed Harry to lead her back into the living room.

Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the room, running Aeryn’s wand through his fingers. Aeryn licked her lips and held out her hand for her wand, forcing herself to concentrate. She was acutely aware of Harry’s intense gaze on her. "I’m ready, Mr. Dumbledore," she murmured.

Dumbledore smiled and handed Aeryn her wand. It weighed heavy as lead in her fingers, and she raised it doubtfully.

"Shall we begin, Miss Blake?" Dumbledore picked up his pointed hat from the table. It was also purple, like his robes, with gold and silver constellations dancing across the fabric. He balanced it in his palms and held it out towards her. "If you would, please, make my hat fly out of my hands."

Aeryn gulped, her palms beginning to sweat. You can do this, girl. With a deep breath, she leveled her wand at the sparkling hat. "Wingardim leviosa," she commanded, questing towards it as she waved her wand slightly.

The end of her wand spat a shower of red and gold sparks, and Dumbledore’s hat lifted from his hands and spun merrily in the air. Dumbledore looked up at the hat, a smile crinkling his eyes. He drew his own wand and murmured a word. The hat was yanked from Aeryn’s grasp and sailed back to rest gently on the table.

"Very good, Miss Blake," he said after a moment.

"Th…thanks," Aeryn mumbled.

Dumbledore picked up his now-empty teacup. "Can you perform any transfigurations, Miss Blake?"

"Uh…sure." But sweat was beading on her forehead. Her father had taught Aeryn the rudimentary spells for changing one thing to another, but performing the task was a different thing entirely.

"Excellent. Please change this teacup into a hedgehog for me."

"Sure," she said with a weak grin. She leveled her wand, concentrating hard. By coupling her ability to perform illusions with her power of telepathy, Aeryn was able to create amazingly real transfigurations by manipulating the minds of her watchers. Praying it would work for a real wizard, Aeryn waved her wand. The white teacup shimmered in Dumbledore’s hands and turned into a sleepily snuffling hedgehog.

As Dumbledore nodded slowly, Harry beamed at her. Aeryn hastily waved her wand again and banished the illusion as Dumbledore set the hedgehog-teacup on the table.

"Well?" Harry asked Dumbledore excitedly.

Dumbledore picked up his hat and set it on his head. He slipped his wand into his volumous purple sleeve. "May I have a moment alone with Miss Blake?" he asked Harry. Harry opened his mouth, thought better of it, and scurried into the guest bedroom without a word.

"You have a very unusual grasp of magic, Miss Blake," Dumbledore said softly as soon as Harry was out of earshot.

A cold chill rushed through Aeryn’s body, but Dumbledore was smiling through his half-moon glasses.

"But you do have a beginning grasp, and I can tell that your power is strong." He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "I will have to consider this very carefully."

"Y…yes, sir," Aeryn stammered.

Dumbledore gave a brief bow. "I shall send you an owl with my decision tomorrow morning. Farewell for now, Miss Blake."

With those words and a smile, he disappeared into thin air.

Aeryn’s legs folded beneath her and she tumbled to the ground. For a moment the room was silent. Then she began to laugh, quietly at first, and then louder and louder.

"Aeryn?" Harry rushed into the room. Aeryn was rolling around on the floor, giggling hysterically. "Are you okay?" he asked doubtfully.

With a great effort, Aeryn sat up, wiping tears from her eyes. "Yeah," she gasped.

Harry crouched down beside her. "What did he say?"

Now that the initial rush had drained away, the weight of her deception and the workout of karate class swept a wave of exhaustion over Aeryn. "I’ll get an owl from him tomorrow," she said wearily. With a soft grin to Harry, Aeryn heaved herself to her feet and tottered towards the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

* * *

Aeryn awoke the next morning to a soft hooting. She bolted upright immediately, looking towards the window. A small owl with a very large envelope in its beak cocked its head at her. It fluttered from the sill, dropped the envelope into her lap, and zoomed out the window.

Aeryn rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes and picked up the envelope. It was thick and heavy, made of a yellowish parchment, and her name was written across the front in emerald-green ink. She flipped the envelope over, and saw a purple wax seal with an odd coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Her eyes widened and she tore open the envelope. She pulled out a letter and a yellowed packet that looked as if it contained some form of powder. With trembling hands, Aeryn unfolded the letter and read:

HOGWART’S SCHOOL

of

WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Blake:

After careful consideration, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Due to the extenuating circumstances of your age and magical training to date, however, we require your presence immediately at Hogwarts for preliminary testing.

Please owl us back within three days to confirm your arrival date.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

A small slip of parchment fell from the folds of the letter. Very impressive, indeed. Congratulations, Miss Blake! -Albus Dumbledore

There was a bang at her bedroom door, and Harry flew into the room, scrabbling to put his glasses over his eyes. He saw the letter in Aeryn’s hands and his green eyes opened wide. "You got it already," he gasped. He shoved a hand through his shock of black hair. "Is it…" His voice trailed off expectantly.

Aeryn was unable to speak. She turned slowly to Harry and nodded, smiling brilliantly.

With a whoop, Harry leapt onto her bed and wrapped her in a huge bear hug. They started laughing joyfully, and Aeryn could hardly believe her good fortune.

She was going to wizarding school.