Dark Phoenix Rising

Chapter One: Ferrets and Freckles

"You are a goddess among women!" Sir Thomas said, his voice fluttering with passionate love for the beautiful, kind, clever, demure, and loyal woman in front of him.

"No! I am not worthy enough to love you," Lady Annalisialynn said, clutching at her full bosom. "I am not rich and beautiful enough for a knight as valiant and brave and wonderful as you!"

"You are! And more! You are my sunshine, my only hope! You were my inspiration when I was battling the evil Dragon Violetblood!" Sir Thomas exclaimed. "You are my..." he faltered.

"What am I?" Lady Annalisialynn said in a throaty voice.

However, Maia Potter never found out what Lady Annalisialynn was that day. A hand reached out and grabbed the book. After the owner of the hand had glanced at the front cover of the book (which featured two people ravenously stripping each other under a large oak tree) and thrown it aside in disapproval and disgust, Maia's great-grandmother said curtly, "Your mother is home."

"Mother's back?" Maia said with not much interest. Her mother was a widowed Auror who was never home. Great-grandmother had raised Maia instead, at her family's manor. Technically, the manor belonged to Maia's mother, but she was never in it for more than a week at a time.

As if to answer her question, her mother's anxious voice called, "Maia? Are you there?" Maia hadn't seen her mother in a year. Ginny had been in Peru, chasing after one of Voldemort's school friends and avid supporter. Maia supposed that the woman had been caught, since her mother was home.

"I'm here, Mother," Maia said, making her way down the stairs. Ginny smiled, and hugged her daughter. Maia automatically stiffened. Great-grandmother had taught her that hugging was unneeded contact, and should be reserved for special occasions.

"Maia, darling, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Mum? Mother is too stuffy," Ginny said, drawing away from her frozen daughter.

"I'm used to it, Mother," Maia said. For a moment, something that looked like pain and sadness flashed through Ginny's eyes, but she managed to smile.

"Well, all right," Ginny said. "Darling, I brought you some Peruvian sweets. Perhaps you and Jack might want to try them out the next time your great-grandmother sends you over to Aunt Hermione's house."

"Thank you, Mother," Maia said politely. "Jack and I will enjoy them." She took the small burlap bag from her mother, and thought about her cousin Jack. Jack was four years older than Maia was, but he was her favourite cousin. When she was alone with Jack, Jack would teach her things like Exploding Snap and Quidditch. Maia didn't particularly care for flying, though, and she was perfectly content with watching Jack fly around, practising for his spot on the Gryffindor House team. "We'll share them with Jackie too."

"And I suppose your Uncle Fred as well, if he shows up," Ginny said, grinning.

Great-grandmother came over, carrying Maia's cloak. "Maia, dear, I was about to suggest that we pay a visit to your aunt now. Why don't you take that bag of sweets your mother so kindly gave to you and put on your cloak?"

"Grandmother, it's July," Ginny said. "Maia, you don't have to wear your cloak. Your summer robes should be fine."

"Yes, Mother," Maia said. She was glad her mother was home for that reason. When she wasn't, Great-grandmother made her wear a cloak in the summer, whenever they went out.

"Ginny, dear, are you coming with us?" Great-grandmother said.

"Yes, of course," Ginny said. "I'll meet you there. I don't like the Floo Network too much. Never did, ever since Harry popped out in Knockturn Alley."

Great-grandmother got a pained look on her face, like she always did when someone mentioned her grandson. Maia watched silently. Aunt Hermione had told her the story once before, when Maia had begged her.

It was just a week after Ginny found out she was pregnant. Harry seemed preoccupied about something, but that didn't make her worry too much. She was too happy about the baby.

Then, Harry just disappeared. His Auror partner, Draco Malfoy, didn't know what happened. Then the talk began. At Hogwarts, they decided finally that Harry was dead. No body had been found, but there was enough evidence.

The ghost named Myrtle heard this. She had been Great-grandmother's best friend, and after her best friend left, she stubbornly tried to cause her as much pain as possible. She gleefully flew to the manor.

When she came in, Ginny had a few friends over. Aunt Hermione was there, along with Uncle Ron. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom were also there, and Mrs. Malfoy. Great-grandmother was watching them peacefully.

Then Myrtle zoomed up to Great-grandmother, and whispered something in her ear, giggling the whole time. Great-grandmother became deathly pale, and dropped her teacup, screaming an unearthly scream. She sank to the floor, weeping and sobbing uncontrollably. Myrtle seemed to enjoy this immensely, and she floated there, laughing, until Aunt Hermione demanded what she had told Great-grandmother.

Myrtle went up to Ginny. She grinned, but said nothing. Ginny got her meaning, however, and her teacup fell to the ground as well. She fainted. Aunt Hermione's eyes widened, and she and Uncle Ron could only sit in shock. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom angrily began shouting at Myrtle, and Mrs. Malfoy sat there disbelievingly until Mr. Malfoy Apparated in and confirmed the news.

Great-grandmother went mad then. She tried to throw herself out one of the library windows, but Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom were able to stop her. Mrs. Longbottom reminded Great-grandmother about the baby Ginny was carrying. This calmed her down, and gave her a reason to live.

After Maia was born, Ginny began to accept missions to other countries, so that Great-grandmother could raise Maia. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron had trouble getting over their best friend's death and that led to their divorce. Uncle Ron took their daughter Jackie to Australia with him, where she stayed until she became of age for Hogwarts.

Great-grandmother never got over it either. However, she was worse off than anyone else was, since she had lost three people in the same way. Her sole purpose in life after her grandson's death was to raise his daughter successfully.

"Great-grandmother, are you all right?" Maia asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, darling. Now, why don't you go first?" Great-grandmother said, holding out a flowerpot with a fine powder in it.

Maia nodded, and threw a handful of the powder into the fireplace. "Fifteen Junebug Road, Gorlingston, Surrey!" she shouted. There was a loud whoosh, and Maia was transported through the Floo Network. She slid out of the fireplace at Number Fifteen Junebug Road, managing to not get soot all over the place.

A fiery red head with the frizziest hair in the world walked into the room and squealed with delight. "Maia! Mum's been expecting you! Have you received your acceptance letter yet?"

"Hello, Jackie," Maia said properly. She winced as Jackie hugged her. What is it with every single one of my relatives and hugging? she thought, annoyed.

"To hell with that stuffiness, Mye!" Jackie said, calling Maia by the nickname she had been given by Uncle George. "We've got to turn you into an Aussie gal, like me, or at least a normal person, like Jack sometimes is. Bloody hell, you're worse than Mum was! Now Dad, he swore all the time. He was in trouble a lot, too."

Maia was about to reply when a boy of fifteen, with shaggy dark brown hair came in, grinning. "I thought I heard a strung up voice in here," he said. "How are you, Maia?" He grinned wider and ruffled his older sister's hair even more, so it now looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

There were two cracks as Ginny and Great-grandmother Apparated into the house. "Maia Elizabeth Potter, you forgot the sweets!" Great-grandmother said, waving the burlap bag of Peruvian salt-toffee. "You left them on the mantle!" Maia took the bag tentatively, looking apologetic.

"No need, darling," Ginny said. "It's quite all right..."

"What do you mean?" Great-grandmother said. "GINNY, YOU BROUGHT THEM FOR THE GIRL, ALL THE WAY FROM PERU, YET SHE FORGETS THEM ON THE MANTLEPIECE!" she thundered ferociously.

"Grandmother, it's perfectly fine... it's not like she murdered someone..." Ginny said desperately. "Truly, I don't mind at all..."

"But I do!" Great-grandmother said shrilly. "The child needs to be taught the difference between right and wrong! She must be respectful! SHE MUST BE PERFECT!"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence after that. Maia had heard that line many times before, when Great-grandmother had gone mad in front of Aunt Hermione, Aunt Penny and Uncle Percy, Aunt Alicia, Uncle Fred, Emily Wood, Maia's friend who came at times to watch over her, or even proud and haughty Aunt Fleur, but she had never said it to her mother, who was never home. Ginny cleared her throat. "Grandmother... perhaps we should talk a little, in the kitchen..."

"Yes," Great-grandmother said blankly. "Yes, of course, Ginny dear, lead the way."

"C'mon," Jackie said, ushering Maia into the living room, where Aunt Hermione was reading a thick book, bound tightly with what looked like ropes instead of threads. Maia placed the burlap bag on the coffee table, shaking.

Jack looked at her, concern etched over his normally ever-happy face. "Buck up, mate," he said. Jack called everyone his age 'mate'. He looked hungrily at the salt-toffees. "Er... Maia, you don't mind if I..."

Maia shook her head. Jack's hand sprang out like a jack-in-the-box and he popped one into his mouth at lightning speed, his face showing his delight. "Ah... tha's be'er..." he said, sucking on the sweet.

There was a loud slamming noise as Hermione shut her book, and glared at Jack. "Jack Granger, you will not talk with your mouth full!" she said sternly.

"Sorry, Mum," Jack apologised. "Thanks, mate," he said to Maia.

Hermione stood up. "How are you, Maia?" she asked, smiling. "Would you like a biscuit? I baked them this morning." She summoned a plate of biscuits that looked like they had been beaten and then burnt to a crisp in the oven.

"No thanks, Aunt Hermione," Maia said. Jackie grimaced from behind her mother. Hermione wasn't a very good cook.

"Oh, thanks, Mum," Jack said, reaching out for a biscuit. His hand was slapped away by his mother, who glared at him.

"You already ate half of them at lunch," Hermione said icily. Jackie rolled her eyes at her brother, who squirmed guiltily. "Which reminds me: your Aunt Penny sent another batch of cinnamon rolls. They're in the kitchen, if you want them later."

Jack's grin widened in anticipation. "That is, if you finish that extra credit essay Professor Krum recommended so you could get into N.E.W.T. potions your sixth year," Hermione added. Jack's grin faltered, and then he outright scowled.

"All right, all right, I'll write the bloody essay," he growled, storming up the stairs to his room.

"Jackie, I need to talk to Maia," Hermione said. Jackie nodded, and left, her frizzy hair bouncing with every step she took. Hermione turned to Maia. "I received a request from Isidora Malfoy, a friend of mine, at work. She wants you to visit her son, who is your age, and she wants him to know someone before you two head off to Hogwarts. She would have Floo-ed you, but with Astiliris and his spies and followers everywhere, listening, she thought it would have been safer to tell me in person, to tell you. After all, you're a celebrity, and the Malfoys are an influential family." She seemed to scowl for a moment.

Maia nodded. "I'll go, Aunt Hermione," she said. Astiliris was not Voldemort. He had named himself Astiliris, a type of anagram of Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead, Osiris, the Egyptian god of the underworld, Set, Osiris' evil brother, and Loki, the Norse god of all evil and tricks. He had started his rise to power eight years before. However, he had not done anything really serious and the Ministry was blowing him off, expecting that he would be gone within a year or two. At least, that was what Maia had heard.

"Good," Aunt Hermione said. She smiled at Maia. "Just think: you might end up with a friend your age before you get to Hogwarts! Isidora will pick you up from the Ministry. You should go to work with your mother tomorrow. It will be easier, and your mother can just drive you there the Muggle way."

"All right, Aunt Hermione," Maia agreed.

***

Maia looked around at her surroundings in wonder. The Auror's office in the Ministry of Magic was fascinating. Everything in the Ministry was fascinating: from the Fountain of Magical Brethren to the grilled lifts.

A large parchment aeroplane covered in writing flew past Maia's head. She realised it was a memo. Ginny smiled, and led her to a desk cluttered with the flying memos and documents, which she cleared away hurriedly. Maia looked around at the desk cubicle curiously. She had never really talked to her mother before, never mind gone to work with her.

The office was loud and busy, but Maia liked it. She sat in her mother's chair, looking at all the pictures pinned to the sides of the cubicle. There were two yellowed pictures of her mother as a little girl. One had her mother, aged at about four, with a boy just a little older. Maia supposed it was her uncle Ron (she had never met him; he had left for Australia just before she was born). The second picture had her mother's entire family, in front of a pyramid. Uncle Percy was the first one she recognised, with the same pompous look on his face. Grandfather was next, and then Uncle Fred, who had the same carefree look. However, Maia noticed Uncle George looked a lot older than Uncle Fred, yet in the picture, they wore the same grin.

Maia found a whole rest of the side of the cubicle devoted to pictures of her by herself, with Emily, with Jackie and Jack, with Pierre (her cousin who was older than her by one year), and with nearly everyone else she knew.

The centre wall had pictures of her mother at Hogwarts and the Burrow, with her friends. There were many of 'Ginny with Hermione', and some marked 'Ginny and Luna', but most had 'Ginny and Harry' written on them. There was one of an eleven-year-old Ginny blushing furiously as she stood next to a small black-haired boy, a young Uncle Ron smirking behind them. Then there was one with Maia's parents covered in wedding cake and tackling each other to the ground. There were many others, some with her mother blushing, others not. Maia noticed the blushing stopped after her mother reached a certain age.

On the last wall, there was only one wallet-sized picture. The caption simply read 'Matteo' on it, and it showed a boy her age laughing and kicking a Muggle football around with a few other children. Maia wondered why her mother had that picture up. It wasn't even moving; it was a Muggle picture. She peered into the boy's blue eyes. Something about those eyes didn't feel completely right...

"Maia?" Ginny said. "The Malfoys are ready to meet you."

A man with red hair and green eyes like Maia's leaned over from his cubicle, and called, "Oi! Ginny! I need help with something here! You're joining us in the Astiliris squad, aren't you?" Maia looked at him. He looked familiar. She may have seen him at a few parties.

"Yeah. I'll be there in a minute, Mark," Ginny said. She bent down to Maia, and pointed at a platinum-blond head across the office. "See that? That's Mr. Malfoy. You can't miss him. Go on, dear."

Maia nodded. "Goodbye, Mother," she said. "I'll see you later tonight."

Ginny nodded, and rushed off to help the wizard named Mark. Maia took a deep breath, and started off towards Mr. Malfoy.

***

Draco was annoyed. He pushed the pieces of parchment around and mixed them up, to see if the report would make more sense in a different order. All that achieved was more confusion. He slammed the parchment down on his desk and glared at the desk next to his. Potter had always been better at that kind of thing... better than Draco and Isidora. Too bad Su Li had gone off to America after Isidora was reassigned as Draco's new partner. She had been good with paperwork too.

Sighing, he returned to trying to read Evans' writing. He needed one of those Muggle magnifying glasses and a nice cup of tea, to soothe his tired mind. He hated being the assistant Head of the squad in charge of trying to stop Astiliris. The Ministry told the general public that he was no threat, but had sent the Aurors and contacted the secret group, the Order of the Phoenix, and told them to stop this so-called 'small fray in the rope'. Draco, who was both an Auror and in the Order, wondered why so many were being called if Astiliris was so small.

Draco looked over the cubicles at Ginny Potter. He hoped she would become assistant Head, now that she had come back to England to help the squad and the Order. Draco wouldn't care, frankly, that she would be higher up than he would. He wanted his rest. The word 'rest' had disappeared from Draco's life description after he had entered the ISD and then was replaced with 'stress' once his son Xavier had been born. Even Snape had been less demanding than Xavier was. Draco almost understood why he had annoyed his father so much as a child.

He stood up and was about to go annoy his cousin, Nymphadora Wood (who preferred Tonks, even though she was married), when there was a small squeak of alarm, and someone said, "Mr. Malfoy?" Draco looked around. He found no one. Then he looked down. A small girl of about ten or eleven stood there, her green eyes widened in nervousness.

She was nothing really special to look at. Her dark red hair was pulled into two, neat pigtails, as if her hair had been separated with a ruler, and her face was pale and covered in freckles. She was small, and skinny, and she seemed very gawky. She reminded Draco of Potter at age eleven. Then he took a look into her eyes, and started. She was Potter, just not Harry Potter. No, she was Maia Potter.

"Yes?" Draco said slowly. "Did your mother send you over?"

The girl seemed flustered. "Well, yes, sir... no, but I mean... yes, no, I mean..." she stammered incoherently. She blushed.

She's even worse than Potter was! Draco thought.

"Are you Maia?" said a voice behind Draco. Isidora.

Maia turned to look at Isidora. Her blush disappeared, and she didn't look flustered anymore. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, my name is Maia Potter. My aunt Hermione sent me here to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Maia," Isidora said. Draco was confused. Why was Maia only incoherent around him? "Why don't you come along? My son Xavier is anxious to meet you." Draco rolled his eyes. Isidora doted upon Xavier and now she was trying to find him a friend. That was pathetic. Draco longed to stop her and force her to send Xavier off to school without knowing anyone, so he would grow strong, but he had learned years before not to cross his temperamental wife.

Maia nodded, and followed Isidora out of the office.

***

Maia felt foolish. She had acted like an idiot in front of Mr. Malfoy. She had seen him, and instantly became tongue-tied. And it wasn't the first time she developed an extremely stupid crush on someone. Her first one had been when she was seven, and she obsessed over Emily's friend Kevin Whitby, who was two years older than Emily and therefore eight years older than Maia. She was lucky Kevin had taken it well.

The second insane obsession was something Maia would have rather forgotten. It had taken place a month after Kevin, when Maia found a picture of a good-looking boy around Kevin's age, flying a broomstick. She had been attracted to his eyes, which were just like hers. This convinced her that they were made for each other. Aunt Hermione had found Maia mooning over the picture one day, and had nearly died laughing before she managed to say that it was Maia's father. Maia had made her promise not to tell anyone.

The third was the Seeker for France's national Quidditch team. Maia still liked to look at pictures of Jean-Claude LaRousse.

Now there was Mr. Malfoy to add onto that list. Maia shuddered. Her mind was already beginning to fill with thoughts of him.

"Here we are," Mrs. Malfoy said, handing Maia an object that looked like a trophy. "The Ministry has authorised this, don't worry," she said, as she joined Maia on the portkey. "Three... two... one..."

There was a pulling on Maia's navel as the portkey began to transport them to Malfoy Manor. Maia, who had been taught by Great-grandmother how to land gracefully when travelling by portkey, wobbled slightly as her feet met the ground. Mrs. Malfoy didn't fall either. They seemed to be standing in an Entrance Hall of some sort, until Maia noticed that there were many pairs of doors leading into the cathedral-like room. It was a ballroom and there was a nearly identical one in Maia's manor.

"Come along, then," Mrs. Malfoy said, leading Maia through the dark corridors. The walls were lined with portraits, like they were at home, but these portraits all seemed to be scowling, sneering, or smirking. They were mostly blonde and all were rather unpleasant. Maia found one empty frame, captioned 'Aurelia Malfoy-Pietro', which was empty, since Aurelia stayed at the Potter's manor. Maia saw why. There were long scorch marks along the canvas, and a large hole where it had been burned through.

Mrs. Malfoy led Maia into a room with a high ceiling. This one, however, was cheerier and brighter. The windows were large, letting the sunshine in. It seemed to be empty, until Maia spotted a small boy dressed in black, his back to them. He was sitting on the window seat, looking out onto the grounds.

"Is she here, Mother?" he said, without turning around.

"Yes she is, darling," Mrs. Malfoy said. "Well. I'll just leave you two to get acquainted now..." she left, and closed the door.

Xavier Malfoy turned. His smile disappeared when he saw Maia. He looked disappointed. "You're ugly!" he said in shock.

Maia's jaw dropped in surprise. "Excuse me?" she said indignantly, not caring that if Great-grandmother had been there, she would have been punished. "Well, you're not so great looking yourself. You look like a ferret." Xavier's face did rather look like a ferret's. He didn't look like the son of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, who both seemed to have received good looks.

Xavier looked indignant. "I am a Malfoy! You're supposed to be part veela! You're too freckly to be a veela," he said, crossing his arms and striding over to her and rising to his full height, which was only a little taller than Maia. "I don't want an ugly friend. Go away."

"I am part veela," Maia said furiously.

"You are not!"

"Yes I am!"

"You aren't!"

"I am!"

Xavier glared furiously at Maia. When she didn't quail, he stormed off to his window seat. They stayed in silence for the rest of the afternoon. The room gradually grew darker as the sun set. Maia sat there, furiously thinking. Great-grandmother had promised her that she would become more veela-like in her teenage years, and Aunt Hermione told her that Maia's father hadn't attracted anyone besides her mother before he was fifteen. Maia looked into the mirror on the wall, wondering if her freckles would ever fade, or if she would ever become elegant like Great-grandmother.

Finally, Xavier said, "Do you play Quidditch? Because if you do, we can still be friends."

"No, I don't play Quidditch. My Great-grandmother doesn't allow me to fly," Maia said icily.

"Hmm," Xavier said. "Then we can't be friends. I suppose I'll have to find myself a friend who likes Quidditch, then."

Maia turned back to looking at herself in the mirror. It was a very pretty mirror, and it had words at the top in a different language than English. Maia stepped closer to the mirror, and nearly gasped when her reflection changed. She grew taller, and her freckles disappeared. Her pigtails unwound themselves, and she smiled at herself. The girl in the mirror was beautiful, and Maia knew she had to be part veela. Next to the girl stood a boy with black hair streaked with green, looking very defiant. Maia was sure he was part veela as well. And on the girl's other side was someone who was older than Maia, but looked like a younger version of Mr. Malfoy. He had green streaks in his hair as well. The boy smirked. He wasn't Mr. Malfoy, but those violet eyes were familiar. On the other side of the smirking boy was a boy with brown hair. He had the look of someone shy taught to be more outgoing. The four in the mirror smiled, and then disappeared into the mirror's depths.

"Xavier!" Maia said urgently.

"What?" Xavier said, annoyed. He walked over as if he was going against his will. "What do you want?"

"Do you see the four people in this mirror?" Maia said, moving over so Xavier could look into the mirror. Xavier looked, and scowled.

"No," he said. "You're wasting my time. Now I should add onto that list: ugly, insulting, a liar, annoying, and insane." He stormed back to his window seat.

Maia rolled her eyes, and looked back into the strange mirror. This time, however, she found only the girl and the boy that looked like Mr. Malfoy. They looked like the cover of the book Maia had been reading the day before. Maia had fancied many people, but this snogging in the mirror was too disgusting for her ten-year-old mind. She made a noise in her throat in disgust, and looked away. "Snogging..." she said, recoiling.

"What is it?" Xavier said, looking excited. He rushed over and peered into the mirror again. He looked away with a scowl. "You are insane," he repeated. He made his way back to the window seat, fuming.

Maia chanced a look at the mirror again. The image had changed. Instead, the boy with the violet eyes was looking at her, his eyes empty. He was dead. Maia backed away, unable to look away, breathing heavily. Then she screamed, and burst into hysterical tears, running towards the nearest person, and burrowing her head in Xavier's robes.

"Get off!" Xavier said, alarmed. The door to the room opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy came in, wands drawn, looking around as if searching for a Death Eater. They relaxed when they saw the room was empty. "Get out!" Xavier said again. "You're getting my clothes all wet!" he added in disgust.

"There's... there's a d-dead person in the mirror!" Maia said.

"What?" Mr. Malfoy said. "There can't be a dead person in the mirror."

Maia got out of Xavier's robes, and walked over to the mirror. She looked in, and promptly screamed in terror again. There was another dead person in the mirror, in place of the boy. It was the girl. However, while the boy just looked like he was staring at Maia, the girl had a pool of crimson around her.

Mrs. Malfoy rushed over. "Darling, I don't see anything," she said, bending down to hug Maia. She looked up at the mirror once Maia was in her arms, and then screamed as well, seeing the girl. "Draco!" she said. "She's right!"

Maia tried to look away and burrow herself in Mrs. Malfoy's robes, but the picture of the dead girl flashed through her head.

"I don't see anything, Isidora," Mr. Malfoy said.

"I think you have to be in contact with Maia."

Maia felt Mr. Malfoy lightly touch her shoulder, then recoil. "Yes, well then," he said, backing away. He looked strangely at Maia, and then he and Mrs. Malfoy began to talk in hushed whispers over her head.

"You don't think..." she heard Mrs. Malfoy say worriedly.

"Mirror... in house for generations... nothing..." she heard Mr. Malfoy reply. "...Have talk with..."

Have a talk with who? Her mother? Maia didn't think her mother would know much about her. However, the next words proved that it wasn't her mother they were going to talk to. "... St. Mungo's... Dumbledore..." Mr. Malfoy said.

Who's Dumbledore? Maia wondered. She looked at Xavier, who had been trying to listen as well. He looked as confused as she did.

***

No one had been allowed to visit Albus Dumbledore for nearly twelve years. It was found that his mysterious illness was not fatal to him, yet it was contagious and fatal to anyone who caught it. That didn't stop the Malfoys, Ginny, and Hermione from nearly barging into his room to ask about the incident at Malfoy Manor.

"Let us through," Draco said forcefully, using his trademark Malfoy glare on the guard at the door. It usually instilled fear.

"I can't sir," the guard said, shaking.

"Let us through," Ginny said. "We don't care if we could contract the disease; Dumbledore's the only one who can help us."

The guard glared at her, then sighed. "Fine. But don't you blame me when you get his disease," he said. "No one's seen him in years. His food is sent through that pipe there. But don't blame me," he continued, muttering as he unlocked the door to a chamber before the room. "Go on in. And make sure you're careful around everyone else when you come out."

The four walked in, and the door was closed behind them. "Well," Hermione said, opening the door to the room. The room was white, with a single window in the back. It was bare, except for a small table and a white bed. Sitting at the table was Dumbledore, his face barely changed from seventeen years before. He was glancing out the window.

"Sir?" Hermione said tentatively. "It's us."

Dumbledore turned slowly, his movements sluggish. "Ah, how educational it is to be locked in a room for years," he said, his eyes twinkling. "You learn much about Muggles when you are forced to watch them from a window for entertainment. How many years have passed, Miss Granger? I have lost track of time from lack of human company. However, this table tells some highly interesting stories."

Draco looked at Icicle, as if afraid Dumbledore had gone completely mad. "Sir, tables don't tell stories," he said. "They can't talk."

Dumbledore smiled. "You are absolutely correct, Mr. Malfoy. They cannot talk. But the patterns on the wood tell the educated wizard or witch many interesting things, if you know where to look. For instance, this table came from a tree in the Black Forest, which was once burned by vampires. You can read this here," he said, pointing at what looked like a faint scorch mark. There were shadows of drops of a liquid on the scorch mark. "How many years have passed?" he asked again.

"It's July 9, 2014," Hermione said.

Dumbledore got a vacant, happy look on his face. "Ah, how time has passed. I presume that Jack is going into his fifth year at Hogwarts now? And Jacqueline to her sixth?"

"Well, yes, but she almost went to Uluru Academy of the Magical Arts," Hermione said. "But Ron sent her here to Hogwarts, since she didn't seem to like Uluru much."

"Curious. I may deduce that you and Mr. Weasley are separated?" Dumbledore said. Hermione nodded. Dumbledore turned to Ginny. The twinkle in his eyes left. "I can't say I believe that you and Mr. Potter are willingly separated," he said, sounding old. "Was it the necklace?"

Ginny nodded. Dumbledore continued. "I had a talk with him, you know. Right after he came back from Germany. Before I was quarantined. We discussed the possibility that the price was not his life, but I suppose that is wrong. How has Anne been coping?" he said, sighing.

"Not well," Hermione said. "Ginny's been away from England... you know, after the law was taken back, so Anne raised Maia, who's their daughter and her great-granddaughter. She's convinced Maia must be perfect when she is revealed to the wizarding world. So far, Anne has kept in seclusion. She has only known Emily Wood, her family, and now Xavier Malfoy, after Icicle suggested it."

"When she came to our manor, she found the Mirror of Reaf," Draco said. "The powers have long worn out from the mirror, so we used it as a normal mirror. However, she somehow saw two dead people in the mirror. At first, we thought it was just because the mirror's powers had come back, but then we couldn't see anything. Isidora came into contact with the girl, though, and she was able to see what Maia could see. Xavier later told us she had seen a group of people and a rather passionate romance scene," Draco said.

Dumbledore sat there, his fingers idly running through his snow-white beard. Finally, he said, "It seems like Maia has a strange power. Rather like Harry's, without the dreams and Voldemort. Can you describe what you saw?"

"It was a girl," Icicle said stonily. "It seems like she took her own life. Maia was unable to tell us about the other person, or the other scenes. She was too shaken."

Dumbledore nodded. "All I can tell you," he said wearily, "are my own suspicions. And none of them are very possible."

"Please, tell us," Hermione said.

Dumbledore sighed. "Maia may be a Seer. Not like Cassandra Trelawney and her trances, but through mirrors."

"She can't be!" Ginny said. "Neither Harry or I possessed any Divination power. I didn't take the class, since I knew I was hopeless at it, and Harry and Ron... they made things up for homework. You know how Trelawney was. Misery, death, all that."

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "That is why the idea is far-fetched. Another is that she was making it all up, and the person was a trick of the light."

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Maia has been brought up so that she won't lie, even when threatened. That could change, of course, when she goes to Hogwarts, but right now..."

"Yes," Dumbledore said.

"Thanks for your help, Professor," Ginny said sincerely. "You've given us something to think about."

Dumbledore just nodded, and returned to his window.

***

The boy clung to the Flying Folder, shivering as the bitter wind clashed with his face, making icy tears fall from his eyes. The boy clutched onto the folder with one hand, and then put his other hand in his robes so that it could be warmed. He couldn't feel the warmth though, and began to feel afraid. He had flown above many cities, and it seemed to take forever for the slow folder to fly. The boy knew a school broomstick would go faster, but he didn't have much of a choice. The speed was as if he was walking to his destination. He wondered what his destination was.

Shivering, he looked at the folder's front. There was a fine print at the bottom, which the boy hadn't seen before. 'Extra-mischief folder' was written there, followed by 'Knockturn Alley'. Wondering what Knockturn Alley was, and wondering if it was like Diagon Alley, the alley the boy had been to only once, the boy held onto the large folder with a determined resolution.

***

Maia slept fitfully. Ever since she had seen the mirror, she had had strange dreams in which a girl that looked similar to the girl in the mirror talked to her. She never remembered anything from the conversations except for the girl's name: Lily.

Lily was back that night. "Maia," she said, her voice echoing through the room. Maia's eyes snapped open. "Maia, do you know this boy?" Lily asked. An image rushed through Maia's head. It was a boy... the same boy in the picture.

"He's the boy from the picture. In Mother's office," Maia replied in surprise. "His name is Matteo."

"Yes," Lily said. "Maia, you must warn him that danger is coming."

"Why can't you, Lily?" Maia asked. "You're here, talking to me."

"This is different. I can only come to you because you have a power that allows me to come. You can also go to Matteo. Concentrate on him."

Maia nodded. She trusted Lily. She seemed to be an honest girl, and had a comforting aura around her. Maia concentrated on the boy, Matteo, and suddenly, there was another person in the room. Matteo.

Matteo looked scared. He edged away from Maia and Lily, and landed on the floor. "Quien eres tu?" he demanded. Even though Maia didn't understand a word of Spanish, she knew what Matteo was saying. He had asked who she was.

"I'm Maia. Lily told me to warn you that danger is coming to you."

To her surprise, Matteo suddenly switched to perfect English. "Why should I believe you?" he said. "You just appeared in my dreams."

"You have to, Matteo," Maia said.

Matteo gave her one more suspicious glance before fading. Lily faded as well, and Maia went back to her dreamless sleep. She would not remember the conversation in the morning.

However, a thousand miles away, in Madrid, Spain, Matteo Finnigan woke, remembering both Maia and the warning.