Power of the Musea

Chapter Four: Moving On

After dinner that evening, Professor McGonagall stopped Melanie and Rhonda as they headed back towards the Ravenclaw common room.

"Miss Harver, you need to follow me up to the Headmaster's office."

"Why?"

"Your mother is there and wishes to have a word with you."

Melanie looked at her in shock. "My mom?"

"Her mom?" Rhonda echoed.

"Yes. Now, if you will come with me, Miss Harver. Miss Mittenborn, you may return to your dormitory."

Rhonda sighed. "Fine. I'll wait up for you," she said, waving at Melanie as she walked off towards the Ravenclaw common room. Melanie watched her go as McGonagall led her up a different staircase.

They stopped in front of a giant gargoyle.

"Acid Pops," McGonagall said to the statue, which quickly moved to reveal a staircase.

"Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you inside," she said, motioning for Melanie to climb up the stairs. Melanie nodded, walking up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office.

"Melanie!" a voice shouted out, and Melanie was wrapped in her mother's embrace.

"I'm fine, Mom," Melanie told her, her voice muffled against her mother's shirt.

"Are you? I've been so worried," her mother continued, carefully pushing a few stray hairs out of Melanie's face.

"You don't need to worry. I'm all right," Melanie assured her.

"Are you sure? I mean, with everything that's happened, and then Sophie..." her mother trailed off, grabbing Melanie's hand.

Melanie nodded. "Positive."

"Good." Her mother smiled and squeezed her hand. "Then we can go home and put all of this behind us."

"What?" Melanie asked as her mother started to pull her towards a fireplace near the back of the office.

"I'm bringing you home. You've missed over a week of school."

"But I don't want to go home," Melanie told her, stopping.

"Why not? Don't you want to come back home and be with your family, and your friends, and school? Melanie, you love school. Why would you not want to come home?"

"But what about my classes here?" Melanie asked.

Her mother looked at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Then, she turned towards Dumbledore, her eyes flashing with fury.

"Dumbledore! Are you letting her take classes?" she yelled.

"You gave your permission for her to remain here," he returned from his seat behind the desk.

"Yes, but I didn't think that that would result in her taking classes!"

"Violetta, did you honestly expect me to allow a young witch to pass through the halls of this school and not attempt to teach her her craft?" Dumbledore returned calmly.

Melanie's mother sighed in frustration. "I should have known that you would try something like this. In every letter you sent you did nothing but tell us how Melanie wasn't ready to return, that she needed more time to adjust. You were just lying to our faces-all you wanted was for Melanie to stay here."

"I did not lie to you, Violetta. I merely said that I thought it was in Melanie's best interests for her to remain here, and I still believe that to be so. If you had simply asked for further clarification of my motives, I would have told you."

Melanie's mother let out a huff. "You knew that Octavian wouldn't ask for clarification; that's why you sent all of your messages to him instead of me."

"I was simply sending information about Melanie's condition to her father..."

"You were manipulating us, taking advantage of Octavian's opinion..."

"Surely you are not blaming me for yours and Octavian's difference of opinion?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

Melanie's mother shook her head. "I'm not going to discuss this with you; you'll simply talk me around in circles. The fact of the matter is that I am Melanie's mother, and I am taking her home. Come on, Melanie."

Her mother grabbed Melanie's hand and continued to pull her towards the fireplace.

"So it will do no good to tell you that I believe you are making a mistake?" he asked, rising from his seat.

"You think every decision I've made has been a mistake, Dumbledore," she told him sternly. "Did you bring Melanie's things up as I requested?"

"They are waiting by the fireplace," Dumbledore told her, and Melanie looked at the base of the fireplace. There was her suitcase with her things from the trip to London, and her school trunk, where she could imagine all of her things tucked away inside of it.

"What is that?" Melanie's mother asked, pointing at the trunk.

"Melanie's school trunk."

"But how..." she trailed off. She glared at him. "You can return all of those things to the people who donated them, then, because we won't have any more need for them." She reached down and grabbed Melanie's suitcase.

"Nobody donated them, Violetta. Those are Melanie's possessions and have been rightfully paid for." Dumbledore met her eyes. They widened and her cheeks flushed.

"You didn't..." Dumbledore nodded and Melanie's mother shook her head. "You've really crossed the line with this one, Dumbledore. Now, will you kindly let us go? You have no right to force us to stay here."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "And you are correct. But please remember that Melanie is free to return at any time if you should change your mind."

"I won't," her mother said, turning to Melanie. "Now, grab a handful of this," her mother handed her a container of green powder, "throw it into the fire, and say 'New York.' Just wait for me, I'll be right behind you."

Melanie nodded and looked over her shoulder at Dumbledore as she grabbed her trunk. His face seemed emotionless as she threw the powder into the fire.

" 'New York!'" she commanded as the fire turned green. She took a timid step forward and found herself in a seemingly abandoned room.

The paint was peeling off of the walls and there was dust and cobwebs everywhere. One lone figure sat in a rocking chair in the corner. He gave a quick glance up when Melanie appeared, then returned to the newspaper he was reading.

"Good, let's go," her mother said, appearing out of the fireplace behind Melanie. She nodded at the man in the rocking chair before leading Melanie out of the room.

Melanie got the impression that the building they were in was very old; not only was there dust and cobwebs everywhere, but the doorways were low and the stairs they were walking down were creaky and narrow.

"We're almost there," her mother said as they reached the bottom of the stairs and walked out of the front door.

Melanie was shocked when she was greeted by the glaring New York City sunlight. Her mother looked down at her watch.

"Good. If the traffic isn't too bad we should make it home before Simon."

"Where's Simon at?" Melanie asked as her mother put the trunk and suitcase into the trunk of a black car parked nearby.

"At school, of course. There's a six hour time difference between here and England, Melanie."

"I know that," Melanie said as she climbed into the passenger side of the car.

They rode in relative silence as her mother navigated the car through the crowded city traffic. As the towering buildings turned into long fences shielding suburbia from the interstate, Melanie's mother sighed.

"I've been reading a lot while you were in England, you know," she began slowly, "and all of the books say that the best thing for you right now is for your life to return to normal. It's important to have continuity and normalcy as you go through this. So, we've made arrangements for you to go back to school tomorrow. I already have your schedule and books if you want to look over them a bit tonight, and Miss Brunen said that she'd love to see you at cheerleading practice after school tomorrow as well. See, your life can return to normal and we can put this summer behind us."

Melanie didn't respond and just stared out of the window as the car turned off onto a smaller highway. The dull fences disappeared, and trees started to appear along the roadside.

"Don't treat me like I'm the bad guy here, Melanie. This is what's best for you. Some day you'll understand that."

Melanie sighed as the car pulled into a small subdivision of pristine homes. They stopped when they reached the driveway to a brick two-story house.

"We're home," her mother announced, stepping out of the car. Melanie couldn't help but feel partially relieved when she looked up at the familiar brick building with its garden beds along the front. She grabbed her trunk out of the car and lugged it up to her room.

She paused for a moment when she walked in, looking around her-the lavender walls, the flowered-covered comforter with stuffed animals arranged among the pillows, the writing desk with a pile of new schoolbooks sitting on top, the mirrored vanity covered with every known scent of lotions, perfumes, accompanied by a set of curling irons and a rather large makeup kit. She dragged her trunk to the foot of her bed and her mother followed with her suitcase.

"Okay, then," her mother said as she opened the suitcase on the bed. "I'll get all of the clothes into the laundry so you have something to wear to school tomorrow, and you can unpack the rest. Change out of those robes and put them in the trunk. I'll have your father put it up in the attic when he gets home."

"The attic?" Melanie protested. "Why can't I keep it down here?"

"Because we're going to forget about it. I'd throw everything away, but I'd be too worried about someone finding them in the trash." She picked up a giant pile of clothes from the suitcase and walked out of the room with them.

Melanie sighed and exchanged her school robes for jeans and a t-shirt from an old cheerleading competition. She turned to put the robes into the trunk, but quickly closed the door and took out her wand.

"Severo," she whispered, and the Ravenclaw insignia separated from the material. She grabbed a small key from a secret compartment in her jewelry box and opened the locked top drawer in her writing desk. She hid the badge underneath her diary and carefully set the wand down next to it. She closed the drawer, locked it, and put the key back. She sighed and dropped the robes carelessly into the trunk.

She turned her attention to the suitcase and mindlessly unpacked it, returning everything to where it belonged. She stood in her doorway and looked around. Everything looked just as it had before London, except for the wooden trunk sitting at the foot of her bed.

She heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps walking up the stairs.

"Hey there, squirt," a low voice said behind her. She turned and saw her brother Simon standing here.

Simon was barely taller, but he was more muscular than Melanie was. He had short, dark brown hair and a face very similar to Melanie's. He had a rather goofy smile, though, and kept a straight face most of the time.

"It's nice to see you. You don't look too bad for being attacked and staying in the hospital for three months."

"Has anyone been asking about me?"

"Only everybody and their dog. I haven't gone a day without someone asking me how you were doing. Mom and Dad haven't told me much, though, so I haven't been able to answer everyone's questions."

"How have things been here?"

Simon laughed. "Sometimes I wished I could have been in that hospital with you. Mom's been worse than normal. She almost didn't let me try out for the football team because she didn't want me out of the house for anything other than school. I had to beg Dad to do anything this summer."

"I guess the attack made her worry more."

"Worry more? She's positively terrified. She actually threatened some poor door-to-door salesman with a knife a few weeks ago! Me and Dad have tried to calm her down, but it hasn't helped much." He shook his head. "I mean, come on, it's Richard's Point. Our biggest crime in recent memory was when Sammy Davis stole Coach Morris's hubcaps as a senior prank!"

Melanie gave a weak smile and shrugged her shoulders.

"And that's not all," Simon continued, lowering his voice. "Mom and Dad have been fighting a lot, mostly at night when they think I'm asleep."

"What about?"

"I don't know. They always seem to know when I'm listening. I don't know anything except that they've been arguing."

Melanie thought back to Dumbledore's comment about her parents sharing different opinions.

"I bet they were arguing about me," Melanie said softly.

Simon shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Oh, I forgot. Mom wants you to come down and help her with dinner."

Melanie groaned. "But I'm so tired."

"You're tired?"

"Yeah, remember, it's almost midnight England time," Melanie pointed out.

"Then tell Mom you've got jet lag. I bet she'll let you sleep through dinner."

Melanie shrugged her shoulders and started to walk downstairs. "I gotta get used to New York time sooner or later," she said, leaving Simon behind as she walked down to the kitchen.

She found her mother in the kitchen, stirring a large pot of spaghetti sauce.

"Oh, good. The water's boiling, will you add the noodles?" she asked when Melanie walked in.

Melanie nodded and opened the box of noodles sitting on the counter and poured them into another pot half-full of boiling water. She pulled out a spoon from the drawer and started to stir.

"Are you sure you're all right, darling?" her mother asked, looking at her while she continued to stir the sauce.

Melanie nodded glumly and continued to stir. Her mother sighed and turned her attention back to the sauce. "I know you're upset, but you have to realize that this is for the best. That world must seem magical when you compare it to what's here, but, deep down, you are so much better off here. You would have woken up one day and the magic would have been gone, and it would have been too late to turn back and recover what you left behind."

Melanie nodded wordlessly, staring down at the pot as she watched the noodles spin around.

"Honestly," her mother continued, "I can't imagine how you enjoyed taking classes with all of those eleven year olds, Melanie. You're smarter than that."

Melanie stopped stirring and looked up at her mother. "Eleven year olds?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes. I thought that was the age of beginning students at Hogwarts." She turned and met Melanie's confused look.

"I wasn't with the first-years, Mom. I was in classes with students my age."

Her mother's constant stirring of the sauce came to a jarring halt, a bit of the red sauce flying out of the pot and onto the stovetop. "Your age?"

Melanie nodded. "With the sixth years. I took my O.W.L.s-the tests you take after fifth year-and passed, so I was taking sixth year classes."

"You passed your, your O.W.L.s after one summer?" her mother stammered. Her eyes were wide, and the spoon in her hand shook.

"Yeah. I studied all summer with Hermione, my tutor," Melanie explained.

Her mother took in a deep breath and turned back towards the pot full of sauce. The spoon began to stir again, although its path was a bit more wobbly and forced than before.

There was an awkward silence and Melanie continued to look after the noodles.

"Melanie," her mother finally said quietly, "you must be tired. Maybe you should take a nap before dinner."

"I'm fine, Mom."

"No, you should take a nap. After all, your body thinks it's nearly midnight. Go on, I'll wake you when supper is ready."

Melanie nodded and walked into the living room. She curled up on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. She let her eyes close for a minute, and the next time she opened them, the room was dark.

The light was still on in the kitchen, so she clumsily made her way across the living room back into the kitchen. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, watching t.v on the small television that sat on the counter.

She smiled when Melanie walked into the room. "We decided that you needed sleep more than you needed dinner, so we had dinner without you. There's some leftovers in the fridge if you want some, though."

Melanie nodded and sat down next to her. "What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Almost ten. Personally, I'm surprised that you didn't sleep all night."

Melanie nodded again, then stood up and got a bowl of spaghetti out of the fridge. She put it into the microwave and set the timer.

"We didn't want to wake you with the tv," her mother continued, "so we turned it on in here. Simon's upstairs doing homework now, though, and your father's helping Ms. Ireling next door move a dresser."

The microwave dinged, and Melanie took out her now-hot bowl of spaghetti with a nod. She sat down and quietly began to eat. Her mother yawned and stood up.

"The store's making me go in early tomorrow since I took this afternoon off to get you, so I'm going to go ahead and go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Melanie's mother gave her a kiss on the forehead before walking out of the kitchen. Melanie sighed as she heard her footsteps climbing the stairs.

Once she had finished the spaghetti, Melanie sighed and walked outside, not knowing what else to do. Their fenced yard was dark, but Melanie climbed into the hammock a few steps away from the door and looked up at the sky, breathing in the fresh night air.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked.

Melanie looked and saw her father cross over from Ms. Ireling's yard. He pushed back his rather lengthy dark hair and walked up to the hammock.

"Sure," Melanie answered, and sat up to let her father sit down. His face lit up in a bright smile as he took the spot Melanie had cleared for him.

"So your mother has told me that you've had a rather interesting day," he said, swinging the hammock a bit with his legs. "Don't worry, things will all be back to normal soon."

"What if I don't want things to be normal?" she asked quietly.

"Melanie, I know that being a...well, I mean that I know that you think what has happened...no, well, just that everything seems wonderful and exciting, that you've found a place in the world that you belong. I know it must be thrilling to be able to learn magic and to uncover new mysteries and challenges every day and to be able to accomplish the seemingly impossible..." his voice trailed off and he sighed. "But you have to realize that...that one day, it will...just..." He looked down at the ground.

"No longer seem magical," Melanie finished. "I know, Dad, that's what Mom's told me."

Her father sighed and shook his head. "Some things in life aren't meant to work out, Melanie. That's something that you must accept. Your mother has very good reasons for you to be back at home. You could never fully understand them, Melanie. Just try to trust her and let your life return to how it was before any of this happened."

Melanie was quiet, and they continued to swing there in silence.

"Dad," she asked quietly, "are...are you ashamed of what...what I am?"

The hammock stopped swinging and her father turned to her. "What, Melanie?"

"Are you ashamed of it? Do you hate me for what I am?"

Her father took her head in his hands and turned her to face him. "Don't ever think that I am ashamed of you. Everything that is inside of you, or Simon for that matter, is there because it is a part of your mother and myself. I love your mother very much, and I love myself, so how could I not love anything that came from us? Do not ever think that I am ashamed of you, or not proud to call you my daughter. You and Simon reflect the best parts of me, and all I want is for you to be safe and happy."

Melanie nodded, biting her lip. "Thanks, Dad."

Her father hugged her, holding her close for several minutes.

"I wish that I could give you everything life has to offer, but I can't. Life just doesn't work that way. But don't ever feel that that means I do not love you."

Melanie nodded and he squeezed her one more time before standing up. "Good. Now, I don't know how much longer you plan on staying up, but I need to go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

Melanie smiled and nodded at him. "All right, Dad."