His Mother's Eyes

It was a bright, sunny day, and Tiffany mentally rejoiced to see the flowers dancing gracefully in the wind. She closed her eyes and spun around with a delighted grin on her face, curly blonde pigtails bouncing and reflecting the sunlight joyously. Although Tiffany looked to be about eight, truth was she was sixteen and was a witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was also the keeper on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Her best friends included Lily Evans, of Gryffindor, and her older cousin, Hannah McDonald, who was also a Hufflepuff and more like an older sister. However, she wasn't too fond of Slytherins. She seemed to get hexed every day by one. In Tiffany's home in Newtonmore that day, however, Lucius Malfoy and a tall, pale man that could only be his father showed up. Tiffany stopped her spinning abruptly, feeling foolish. "Hello, Lucius, Mr. Malfoy!" she said in her usual, bubbly manner. "It's nice to see you! But why're you here? I mean, normally no one ever comes, you know, and that's why I'm so surprised, and--"

"Is your mother here?" Mr. Malfoy cut in smoothly.

Tiffany shook her head, her big green eyes wide. "Oh, no sir, Mummy went shopping. Why, do you want to talk to her? I didn't even know you knew her!"

"We don't, McDonald. We just need to give her this," said Lucius, holding out a small, maroon book.

Tiffany took it. "I'll give it to her, if you want me to! Will that work, or do you have to deliver it right to her hands, or do you want to run up and put it on her desk--"

Mr. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Hold on to it, child. I'm sure it'll do just as much good in your hands. When should your mother be back?"

Tiffany clasped it tightly. "I will, Mr. Malfoy! Mummy shouldn't be back for a while, probably around five or so. She says I'm old enough to watch myself now!" she said with pride. Mr. Malfoy looked as though he were about to retch. "Are you all right, Mr. Malfoy?" Tiffany asked, looking concerned.

"Fine, Miss McDonald," he spat. He spun on his heel and strode off, Lucius keeping up with him easily.

Lucius called out, "Enjoy!"

Tiffany's brow crinkled as she inspected the book. "Hmm. I wonder what this is?" she asked herself as the Malfoys mounted their brooms and flew away. She opened it, and at the same time, felt a slight tug around her navel. "Oh!" she cried in surprise. She hadn't expected for it to be a Portkey. What was Mr. Malfoy trying to do? Something felt different about this Portkey, though. It was like she wasn't just travelling through space, but through--well, it felt like Jell-o, to be frank. Finally, she stopped. She was in the Headmasters office. But it was different now. Many objects had accumulated, and as she looked up, she saw, on a gold plate, "A. Dumbledore". "Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, looking up through wide eyes. Indeed, it was the professor, looking rather older from the last time she had seen him. "I didn't know you were Headmaster now, Professor Dumbledore! When did that happen? I mean, when did Professor Dippet die? Err--pass away? Why didn't the Daily Prophet say anything? How come--"

"One question at a time, and I do believe I should be asking the questions," said Professor Dumbledore, looking at her through grave eyes. "First of all, who are you?"

"Don't you remember me, Professor Dumbledore? It's me, Tiffany McDonald!"

Professor Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon glasses, surprised. "Tiffany--class of 1974, unless I'm much mistaken?"

"That's when I'm graduating, Professor. I'm only a sixth year right now, though--well, I will be once the school year starts anyway."

Professor Dumbledore inspected Tiffany through his glasses. "Do you know what year it is, Ms. McDonald?"

"1973?" Tiffany said, raising her eyebrows as she asked with a surprised expression.

Dumbledore shook his head gravely, the white beard moving absurdly over his obscenely purple robes. "No. It is 1996."

Tiffany's jaw dropped and, for the first time in a long time, she was speechless.