Dumbledore's Secret

Chapter 4

Sitting at the kitchen table in No. 12 Grimmauld Place on a rainy Saturday afternoon, Remus found himself tearing his ham sandwich into shreds.

"Something wrong, Remus?" Molly Weasley asked him, a look of concern on her face. "I didn't put too much mayonnaise on it, did I?"

He tried to smile. "No, Molly, it's great. I'm just not very hungry." Well, that was the truth, or at least part of it. The full moon had been only two days before, and it took him a while to get his appetite back. But that twisted feeling in his gut was more intense than usual. He missed Sirius of course, and he wanted desperately to do something for Harry. But, the most immediate source of his lackluster appetite sat two seats away from him, her purple bobbed hair clashing wildly with her bright orange t-shirt. She still looked a little pale from her recent stay in St. Mungo's, but Tonks swore that she was completely healed. Remus doubted that she could have regained her full strength in just under a week, not after the sort of attack she suffered; he worried that tonight, when she went back on duty with the Order, she'd overextend herself.

"Earth to Remus!"

He looked up abruptly at the sound of her voice. "Oh, sorry, you were asking me about..."

Tonks furrowed her brow. "I wasn't asking about anything. George was talking."

The Weasley twin grinned. "Do I sound like Tonks?" he asked in a high pitched voice.

"Maybe I sound like George," Tonks said, deepening her voice considerably.

"No, no," Fred said with a shake of his carrot top head. "George definitely sounds like you, Tonks."

George elbowed his twin in the ribs then asked Remus again, "So if you're not hungry, can I have your sandwich?"

"George!" Molly protested. "Let the man eat in peace, will you?"

Remus smiled sheepishly. "I doubt you'd want to eat this anyway," he said, looking down at the scraps of ham, lettuce, and bread strewn across his plate. "Not after I've mauled it."

"Oh, I don't want to eat it. I want to give the leftover lettuce to the billywigs. We've just gotten a shipment from Australia, and we can't afford to have them die on us until we can harvest their stingers for our Floating Fizzers," George explained.
"Don't let those things get loose," Molly scolded. "I don't want to find myself giddy as a school girl when I go upstairs to get your laundry."

"Here," Remus said, sliding his plate over to George. "It's all yours."

"You know," Tonks said, and Remus felt stupid as his stomach flip flopped at the sound of her voice. "I've been meaning to ask you, Molly, when are you going to make these boys do their own laundry?"

Fred and George exchanged a look. "Oh, no," Fred said. "Not this again."

"Not what?" Remus asked with interest.

Tonks shrugged. "I think Molly's been doing too much of the housework around here."

"I found her reading a copy of The Feminist Witch," George said in a stage whisper.

"More aptly titled, The Feminist Bitc..."

"Fred!" Molly exclaimed, then she flashed Tonks a smile. "I appreciate your concern, Tonks, but really, I'm doing quite fine."

"Well, I don't doubt that Molly, but that's not the point. The point is that men - or boys in this case - need to learn that we women aren't their servants."

"And tell me, Tonks," George said with a sly grin. "What does this book say a witch should do when she likes a bloke?"

Remus watched as Tonks's face reddened, and he felt his heart sink. I wonder who's caught her fancy, he thought with a sigh.

Fred added, "Yeah, isn't she supposed to be aggressive and ask him out instead of waiting around for him to get up the nerve?"

"Tell me, Remus," George asked him suddenly, "what do you think of aggressive women?"

"Uh, I ..." Remus's eyes met Tonks's, and he suddenly couldn't finish the sentence.

"Okay, Fred, George," Molly declared in an overly loud voice. "I think I'm taking Tonks up on her suggestion. Get the plates. We're cleaning up." She shooed her sons into the corner of the cavernous kitchen, where there was a big tub of a sink.

Fred and George groaned, and Remus managed to stop staring at Tonks long enough to say, "Let me help, as well."

"Yes, and me too," Tonks said, pushing away from the table so abruptly that her sudden movement caused one of the water glasses to tip over onto Remus's lap. Luckily, the glass had only been partially full, but there was still enough water spilling across his lap to create a charming wet spot on the front of his pants.

"Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry!" Tonks screeched.

The twins burst into laughter, and Molly called out, "Come on you two, leave them be!"

Tonks gathered a whole role of paper towels and handed them to Remus with an awkward grin. "Really, Remus, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, no worries," he said, trying to be casual as he patted his groin area with napkins in front of the woman he'd secretly been in love with for the past ten months. Well, maybe "secretly" wasn't the right word to describe it. It was pretty clear from Albus's insinuations, from Fred and George's teasing, and from Molly's not so subtle hints that his feelings for Tonks were obvious to most anybody with a pair of eyes. He only hoped Tonks had somehow ignored the obvious. And could he really describe himself as "in love"? He'd had a total of four private conversations with her, all of them a bit tense because he'd been so nervous. Oh, they'd talked plenty in group settings, mostly about Order business, but what did he know of her, and she of him? It didn't make any sense, this longing he had for her. She was too young, too outgoing, too damned attractive for the likes of him.

"Stuff it, she's perfect for you." Sirius's words suddenly sounded in his head. They had been sitting at this very table one night, Sirius downing shots of tequila ("What do I care if I have a hangover tomorrow?" he'd complained to Remus. "I don't do anything around here but sleep and clean."). "When are you going to ask her out, huh?" Sirius had asked. "I'll be dead before you get up the nerve!"

Remus scowled.

"I'm really sorry," Tonks repeated, sinking back into her chair. "I hope I didn't ruin your pants."

"What? Oh, no, it's just water."

Tonks gave him a worried look. "You're rather distant today."

Remus shrugged. "Am I? I'm just ..." What? Lusting after you? Missing Sirius like crazy? "I'm just worried about Harry." Remus felt immediately guilty. He was worried about the boy, but Harry hadn't been on the forefront of his mind just then.

"I've been thinking about what we can do for Harry," Tonks said, and Remus glanced at her in surprise.

"Really?"

"It's a shame he has to go back to those muggles, especially after ... well, after everything that's happened."

"I know, but Dumbledore says that he needs to stay with them."

"That's too bad. If only they wouldn't be so mean to him." She leaned across the table and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I have to admit, after one of the Order meetings, I overheard Professor Snape ..."

"Professor Snape? You don't just call him Severus? Or leave off the Professor, at least!" Remus interrupted in surprise.

"Are you mad? I had him for potions only a few years ago." Tonks shuddered. "It's a time I'd prefer to forget, those hours in the dungeons!"

Remus smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, when I was teaching at Hogwarts, he wasn't on most students' list of favorite professors."

She grinned. "I bet you were."

He felt his face begin to flush. "No, I doubt ... anyway, I interrupted you," he said, looking away. "You said you overheard ..."

"Oh, right. I overheard Professor Snape ... Severus, whatever ... I overheard him telling Dumbledore some of the things he saw ...well, saw in Harry's head during his Occulmency Lessons."

"Shouldn't Snape keep that private?" Remus asked in dismay.

Tonks shrugged. "I guess, but I think he was actually concerned about the kid. He said that the Dursleys were mistreating him."

Remus opened his mouth in surprise. "Really? Well, I wouldn't have expected that. I mean, not about the Dursleys - that doesn't surprise me - but about Snape."

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I can't believe Dumbledore still wants to stick the poor kid with those muggles when someone as nasty as Snape has bad things to say about the Dursleys."

Remus looked away.

"You know something, don't you?" Tonks asked suddenly. Then, at the look of alarm on his face, she said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to try and get it out of you. I'm glad, though, that there's a good reason for him to go there. That makes it a little better, I suppose."

Remus nodded, then let out a sudden laugh. "Can you imagine what the muggles would say if someone like Mad Eye told them to sod off?"

Tonks smiled brightly. "What a good idea!"

"What do you mean?"

"What if we all went and told them off? Tried to keep them in line? I can ask Mad Eye tonight ... we're on duty together." She made a face. "We've got to patrol Hogsmeade Station to make sure nothing untoward happens before the kids get on the train tomorrow."

"I was just joking."

"But whatever for? That's perfect! We can go see Harry off at King's Cross tomorrow. Mad Eye will want to watch over him, anyway ... Constant vigilance and all that." She tapped her fingers excitedly on the table. "And I'll come with my most lurid hair ..." she scrunched up her face, and suddenly she sported a rainbow Mohawk. Remus couldn't help but laugh. "And you," she told Remus, "you can be the respectable one, so they won't think we're all a bunch of freaks."

Remus felt his happiness deflate a bit. "By respectable you mean old."

Tonks, who had just switched her hair back to the simple purple bob said, "No, I don't think you're old." She met his eyes. "I don't think you're old at all," she ended quietly.

As he watched her nervously bite her lip, Remus felt a sliver of hope. Could she possibly be interested in him?

"Hey, we're not interrupting anything, are we?" Fred walked up to them, a sly grin on his face as he grabbed some of the dishes still left on the table.

Tell him to sod off, then make your move! Remus could hear Sirius's voice again, though the dead man had never said these words. Great, Remus thought despairingly, he was now hearing dating advice from his dead friend.

But Remus, ignoring the voice, stood up and said, "We were just making plans to see Harry off tomorrow at King's Cross. You know, give his muggle relatives a talking to."

Remus watched with disappointment as Tonks got up from the table as well. The moment was clearly over.

"Count me in," George said enthusiastically. "I want to see if Harry's big fat cousin has gotten over our Ton Tongue Toffee joke ..."

"Ah, one of our firsts!" Fred said with a nostalgic sigh.

"Hardly!" Molly said, coming over to clear the rest of the dishes.

"Well, one of our official firsts," George amended. "Family doesn't count."

"Neither do Hogwarts students," Fred added.

Remus rolled his eyes at their antics, then noticed that Tonks had moved to the kitchen door. "You're leaving?"

She nodded and almost pushed through the door without another word.

"Wait, we're still on for tomorrow then. At King's Cross?" he asked, attempting a smile.

But she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were on the floor as she mumbled, "Yeah, sure, see you."

As he watched her leave, he heard the voice in his head say, You missed your chance, git. "I never had one," he mumbled in reply, turning to help Molly and the twins clean up the rest of their lunch.

*

Charlotte had spent almost the entire week doing little more than sleeping, eating, and sleeping some more. She had slept for nearly two days straight before she'd actually gotten up to shower or eat, and for the rest of the week, though she slept more regularly, she did not leave her rooms. It had only been on her third day there that she had made herself open her window and look outside. It had been a bright, sunny day, and she watched with only a little interest the children who were running around on the grounds below her. She had forgotten that she was at a school. Their happy laughter made her feel as if she were on a different planet.

Her grandfather, Albus - she hadn't yet figured out what to call him - had visited her on several occasions, asking her if she would join them for dinner, but she had told him that she was not feeling well, and he had let her be. Minerva had also stopped by several times over the week, always asking kindly if there was anything she needed.

Considering the room she was in, they hardly needed to bother. After several days of lying about in a depressed stupor, she had finally become conscious of just how amazing this place was. When she wanted something to drink, a glass of liquid would appear. She hadn't been able to get everything she wanted - instead of vodka, she had gotten water, instead of wine she had gotten grape juice ...she wondered if there was some sort of ban against the magical distribution of alcohol, particularly to emotionally unstable people like herself - but she never went thirsty, or hungry for that matter, as the process was the same for food. The bed always seemed to be exactly the right temperature at night, and the mirror would whisper encouraging things to her when she looked into it. The bathroom right off her room was absolutely amazing; the huge, claw foot tub, which was perfect for long, nightly soaks, had several different spouts, each of which released a different type of scent into the water.

A few days into her self-imposed solitude, she had gotten a little bored, but she had still felt too fragile to venture out into the world of the living. As soon as she began wishing she had something to read, she spotted a bookshelf that she was sure hadn't been in the room just the day before. The shelves were lined with all sorts of interesting titles - everything from history of magic texts she had never been able to get her hands on in America to her favorite series of muggle detective novels. These had kept her busy for a few days, especially the books about magic.

At first, it had been difficult to read these texts, and she'd always end up putting them aside for the lighter fiction. Every time she started reading about magic, she'd think of her mother's warnings about the dangers of this world. Flashing back to the events of that fateful night, Charlotte had realized that her mother had been right.

She spent hours staring at the ceiling in her room - magically enchanted to match the sky outside - wishing that she had just one chance to tell her mother how sorry she was, wishing that she had been able to understand her mother's fears while Guinevere had still been alive. If only her mother had told her about her youth, if only she had explained, perhaps Charlotte would have ... What? Could Charlotte have turned her back on magic, even knowing what it had done to her grandmother and mother so long ago? She didn't think she could, and this made her feel even worse.

But Charlotte, who was not naturally prone to long fits of depression, found herself perusing the books on magic despite her feelings of guilt and sorrow. By the time she had finished skimming most of the books on the shelves, she had come to an understanding with herself: she was not, nor would she become, like her mother. Even seeing the worst that magic could do that night in her mother's house, Charlotte could not reject this part of herself. As much as she wished she'd had a chance to make amends with her mother, as guilty as she still felt about her own actions that night, Charlotte realized that she would not do as her mother had done and turn her back on her magic.

But this realization also brought with it many unanswered questions. Could she ever go back home? And did she want to? Would she always be looking over her shoulder, worried about Voldemort? Could she forge a relationship with her grandfather if she stayed here? Would he even want her to stay? If she did stay, what would happen to her students - both muggle and magical? Well, her muggle students at Braeburn Junior High were out for the summer, but her few weekly magical students would have still come looking for her. And Sam! She'd forgotten all about her fluffy black cat. She wondered if Penny, one of her few non-muggle friends, had realized she was missing. Waking up on her seventh morning at Hogwarts, anxious about her home and her future, Charlotte decided that it was finally time to leave her rooms.

Still, she felt more than a little tense as she stepped into the corridor outside her room. For one thing, she was unaccustomed to wearing robes, and she felt rather like she was going to a costume ball on Halloween. She liked the look of the midnight blue robe on her - somehow it was tailored just right - but she still felt like someone else entirely. And of course, she had no clue where to go. She stood in a circular hallway, a tower of some kind. There were several doors lining the walls, and she chose one at random, knocking gently before turning the knob. When she peeked inside the room, she saw a large, airy room with a beautiful mahogany bed at the center. Quickly stepping back into the corridor, she opened the next door and saw a cozy little sitting area. Finally, she opened the door to the office - her grandfather's office, she assumed - where she had been on her first night at Hogwarts.

Standing in the doorway, she gazed in awe at the room that she had hardly noticed on that first night. The portraits lining the walls were almost all snoozing - only one old woman was awake, and she waved cheerily to Charlotte. Almost giggling in surprise, Charlotte waved back. She'd seen magical portraits on her first trip to Salem last year, but she had never had one acknowledge her. Equally amazing were all the gadgets and knick-knacks in the room. But the most remarkable part of the room was the enormous red and gold bird she saw perched on a wooden stand beside her grandfather's desk. She stepped farther inside to take a closer at the beautiful animal when she noticed Severus standing along the opposite wall, staring at her.

When her eyes met his, she began to smile. She had thought of him several times over the past few days, especially when she had begun to shake off her misery. He had not only kept her from dying that night; he had kept her from losing control, as well. There had been something about his irritable but sincere concern that had stuck with her, even through her deepest bouts of grief.

But her smile faltered when she saw the grimace plastered on his pale face. She had thought, on that first night, that he had looked harsh. But now he looked positively forbidding, standing straight as a rod, his severe black robes buttoned tightly up to his neck, his arms stiffly crossed at his chest. Still, she managed to say with some warmth, "Good morning, Severus."

He glowered at her, giving her a slight nod of his head. "Miss Richardson," he said, almost coldly.

She met his eyes, trying to figure out exactly what was the matter. But, whereas she had been able to read him so easily that night, now she could sense only an icy indifference.

"Uh," she mumbled, flustered. "I was looking for ..."

"Your grandfather is on his way," Severus said. "He and I were about to discuss what exactly should be done with you."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "What is to be done with me?" she asked. "Don't you think this is a discussion I should be in on?"

He gave a dispassionate shrug. "Not particularly."

"Well, I have plans of my own!" she said, her voice rising. She tried to meet his eyes again, desperate to figure out just what had happened to the kind, if somewhat ill-tempered, man she had met several days ago.

But he would not look at her. "And just what might those be?"

"Well..." she said, stalling. She had no plans, of course. She had been about to ask her grandfather what she should do. "Well, I plan to return to North Carolina, of course."

He snorted. "Hardly."

"I really don't see what say you have in any of this!" she said.

"You're not going back there," he snapped, a slight flush coloring his sallow skin.

His small show of feeling calmed her a bit. "As I said," her tone now even, "I don't see what say you have in this matter."

"Really? I'd say risking my life and blowing my cover gives me some say in this matter. Tell me," he bit out, his voice now undeniably angry, "Just how are you, wandless and woefully ignorant about magic, going to defend yourself against death eaters?"

Giving him a tight smile, she said, "I managed that Pettigrew ..."

"Hah!" he muttered. "Pettigrew is an idiot. He hardly counts."

"What is the matter with you?" she suddenly burst out.

"I believe he hasn't had his morning coffee yet," said Albus from behind her.

She whipped around. "Oh, I didn't realize ..." Suddenly, Charlotte felt incredibly shy. In some ways, this felt like her first meeting with him.

He smiled tenderly at her. "You're looking very well this morning, my child."

She gave an awkward smile. "Thank you. My room ... it's amazing. I don't know how to thank you for all your generosity over these past few days. I ..."

"You're quite welcome, my dear," he said. "Please, have a seat, both of you. I'm glad, Charlotte, that you're feeling better. This is probably a conversation you should be a part of."

She shot Severus a triumphant look before sitting down.

"Miss Richardson," Severus said, still standing, "seems to think she can pretend as if nothing's happened."

Charlotte searched her memory for Severus's last name before retorting, "Professor Snape seems to think I'm a stupid child."

"What I think," he said between clenched teeth, "is that going back to your home in the States is foolhardy. You won't live a day."

She opened her mouth to reply when Albus held up a hand. "Unfortunately, my dear, I think Severus is right."

She snapped her mouth shut and looked away angrily. The truth was, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to go back to North Carolina, at least not right away. But she hardly liked being told what she could and could not do with her own life.

"So I'm just supposed to give up my entire life, is that it?"

In a gentle voice, Albus said, "I know this is difficult, but ..."

At his kindness, she felt her anger melt. "Do you think Voldemort will really try to kill me? I have no powers to speak of, I'm hardly a threat, perhaps he'll just ..."

"For god's sake, can you be more stupid?" Severus snapped.

She stood up angrily. "Look, I don't know what happened between that night and today, but if you give me any more attitude, I'll ..."

He lifted an eyebrow. "You'll what? You don't even have a wand."

"Children," Albus interjected. "Please. Severus, stop annoying my granddaughter. She's not one of your students. And Charlotte, Severus is right. You cannot go back home, and there's nothing that can be done about that. You're just going to have to accept that."

Charlotte sat back down, her face red with embarrassment and residual anger. "Yes, I'm sorry."

Severus nodded, and she assumed that it was the only form of apology she was going to get from him.

She sighed. "Then what should I do? All my students ... my friends, my things ..."

"We sent an Auror to your house two nights ago," Albus began, then at the look of confusion on her face, added, "Britain's version of magical law enforcement. He collected your belongings."

"I have a cat, Sam," Charlotte said. "Did the Auror get him, too?"

Albus looked away from her.

"No, you can't be serious," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, my dear, he was found dead."

She shook her head in disbelief. "They killed my cat? Those fucking bastards..." Realizing what she had just said, she looked apologetically at her grandfather. "I'm sorry, but I just can't ..."

He smiled sadly. "It's fine, and I quite agree with your description." He paused then said, "But, that's not all."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "What more could they possibly ..."

"Albus, don't," Severus said, his voice kinder than it had been all morning. "Not now."

"No, tell me, what in the hell..."

"He also found a woman in your house ... she had been murdered."

Charlotte closed her eyes. "My god ..." Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm ... she repeated the mantra silently as Albus continued.

"The Auror contacted the federal magical law enforcement bureau, and one of the agents identified her as a Miss Penelope Patterson. Do you recognize ..."

"Penny," she whispered. "Penny. She is my ... she was my friend." Charlotte forced herself to open her eyes. Do not cry, she told herself. Stay calm. "I don't understand. Why would they want to kill her? She wasn't a muggle, she wasn't doing anything to them, she was just ...Oh, god, she must have come to my house, looking for me, they must have been waiting for me. Penny had just had a baby, she was just newly married, she taught with me, she ..."

Suddenly, Severus kneeled down beside her chair. "You see why you can't go back," he said quietly.

As she looked at him, she felt the sympathy and concern emanating from his dark brown eyes. What a strange man, some part of her managed to think, despite her shock. "Yes, I see."

Albus said, "I know this is another terrible blow when you've already suffered so many..."

Severus stood up. "This is why I think you should go into hiding."

"Hiding?"

"Your grandfather can be your secret keeper. We can send you to France, Australia, Japan ... really to anywhere, even some other part of the States or Britain, I suppose."

She snapped out of her shock. "No."

"Miss Richardson, I thought you said you understood."

"No, I will not go into hiding. Don't either of you recognize this scenario? I'm not going to do what my mother did. Need I remind you that it didn't work out so well for her!"

"This would be different," Severus bit out. "Your grandfather is the most powerful wizard in the world. There's no chance that Voldemort will ever ..."

"I don't care. I am NOT going into hiding."

Severus sputtered, "You can't still plan on going back there?"

She looked at her grandfather. "I want to stay here. I want to fight this bastard."

Albus said nothing, and Severus groaned. "Just how are you going to fight him, hmm?"

"I don't know!" she cried out in frustration. "But I can't just sit around and ..." She looked at Albus. "You understand, don't you? You know I have to do something, that I have to ..."

"Albus," Severus interrupted. "This would be a mistake. She can't stay at Hogwarts. We've already got Potter making this place a prime target, and whenever you leave, the school is endangered. If she's here too..."

"Potter?" Charlotte asked in surprise. "Harry Potter, the boy who lived, that Potter?"

"Oh fantastic!" Severus grumbled. "Another member of the bloody Harry Potter fan club."

"Severus ..." Albus said, his voice full of warning.

"Albus, listen to me." Severus took a deep breath. "She's another weapon to use against you. Don't you see that?"

"And what about you?" Charlotte rounded on Severus suddenly. "Voldemort's after you now, too. You defied him. Are you going in hiding?"

"I'm different," Severus muttered.

"Why? I don't see any ..."

"I can take care of myself," he ground out angrily. "And besides, now that my cover's blown, it hardly matters if I die or not."

"Enough!" Albus boomed.

"Really, Albus, I ..."

The older man shook his head. "That is enough, Severus. You've made your case. And you have some very valid arguments, though I wholeheartedly disagree with the low value you place on your own life. As for Charlotte, she is a grown woman, and if she wants to stay here then ..."

Severus threw up his hands in frustration. "Fine. Fine. I should have known my suggestions would be ignored." Then he glared at Charlotte. "If you're remaining here at Hogwarts, you had better learn one thing very quickly: stay the hell out of my way." He turned and left the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Charlotte stared after him. "What ..." She looked at Albus. "What in God's name is the matter with him? One moment he's considerate, even protective, the next he's ..."

Albus sighed. "Yes, he's a very complicated man. But he's also a very intelligent one. He's right, you know. It will be more dangerous for you here."

She shook her head. "I don't really care about that. But ..." She looked away and whispered the question that bothered her most. "Will I be a burden?"

Albus reached for her hands. "You are my family. You will never be a burden to me."

She smiled. "I don't even know what to call you."

"What is most comfortable for you?"

She looked into his eyes. He was, like Severus, a difficult man to read. But she thought she could sense the answer he wanted to hear. "Would you find it strange if I called you Granddad? I'm a thirty year old woman, not some bouncy little girl, but I've never had a grandfather before..."

"I'd like that very much," he said softly.

She smiled and released his hands. "Good." Then she sighed. "I can't believe everything that's happened, though. I never really knew that anyone could be so horrible. What was Penny's family told? And our friends?"

Albus shook his head. "I don't know what is happening with your friend's family, I'm sorry. And I think it's best if we don't look into it for the time being." He sighed. "We've told your friends that you were also killed."

She gasped. "But why? If Voldemort already knows I'm still alive, why make my friends believe that I'm dead?"

"Because, if they believe you're dead, Voldemort can get nothing from them. He probably won't harm them if thinks they have no information about you. His men probably killed your friend because she either discovered them on your property or because they thought she could tell them something of your whereabouts. Voldemort doesn't want to draw attention to himself by killing wizards indiscriminately."

"Surely he has better things to do than wait around for me to show up."

Albus shrugged. "Yes and no. Just the day before he found you, several of his top lieutenants were captured and jailed. He's waiting until they can break out of prison - and unfortunately, that's likely to be any day now - he's waiting for them to plan another major strike, I suspect. That gives him time to pursue terror on a more personal scale. Besides you, who I'm afraid he's taken a personal interest in, I believe he's ordering a series of attacks on muggles, just for sport. I learned a few days ago that his death eaters were behind murders in Germany, Sweeden, Morocco, and here in Britain."

"I thought you said he doesn't want to draw attention to himself."

"He doesn't want the magical world to know where he is just yet, but he also wants to send me a message. By killing muggles, he thinks he's staying hidden. And sadly, for the most part, he's correct. Our own ministry of magic pays little attention to muggle happenings. I've only been able to discover the connection between these muggle killings thanks to the effort of a few dedicated Aurors who are working for the Order."

"The Order?"

"The Order of the Phoenix. We're a group dedicated to bringing Voldemort down."

"I see." Charlotte smiled weakly. She suddenly felt overwhelmed.

"You can always change your mind about staying here."

She shook her head. "No. Look, I won't lie and say I know what I'm getting into. I don't have a clue. But ..." She took a deep breath. "I cannot let him get away with what he's done, and if I went into hiding, I feel like he would have won."

"Very understandable, but be careful, child. You sound a great deal like myself as a young person."

She smiled. "Would that be so bad?"

He did not return her smile. "I drove away my daughter and, in a sense, my first wife. What I did against Grindelwald was correct in principle, I suppose, but ... just do not let your sense of righteousness blind you."

Charlotte didn't know how to respond. She looked around uncomfortably, and her eyes stopped on the beautiful bird she had first seen when she had entered. "In a poorly disguised attempt to change the subject," she said with a small grin, "what is your bird's name?"

"That is Fawkes," he said, smiling and going over to the bird and stroking its feathers. "He's a phoenix."

"Ah," she said, thinking of the Order's name. "Phoenixes are a favorite with you, aren't they?"

The bird suddenly lifted its huge wings and sailed gracefully through the air, landing directly on Charlotte's lap. She glanced up at her grandfather in surprise.

"He likes you, but there was never any doubt about that. He and your mother ... they were good friends."

She stared at Fawkes in wonder, trying to imagine a young Guinevere sitting here, stroking Fawkes feathers as she was doing now. "Fawkes is that old?"

Albus gave her a look of mock indignation. "That old? Just what are you trying to say?"

She grinned. "Sorry."

He laughed. "No, you're right. Fawkes is old, as am I. Indeed, Fawkes is even older than I. He's never told me his exact age, but ..."

She laughed and looked at Fawkes. "Well, you look very good for your age."

"You've caught him at the best time. In a few days, he'll go through his burning period."

Her eyes widened. "He's a real phoenix? He actually burns and rises from the ashes?"

"Well, what did you think I meant when I said he was a Phoenix?" Albus asked with a grin.

Suddenly a voice called out from the fireplace, "Albus, I need you to ...Oh! Charlotte! I'm glad to see you're up and about!"

Charlotte smiled shyly at Minerva's head.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, "but Albus, you're needed to see the rest of the children off, and then don't forget, you have that appointment with Madam Marchbanks in London." Minerva then turned and looked at Charlotte. "Would you like to have a late breakfast with me, dear? I've got to finish with this end of term business, but in about an hour, I would be happy to show you around the castle and have a bite to eat."

"That would be great," Charlotte said, and Minerva's head disappeared as quickly as it had materialized.

Turning to her grandfather, Charlotte asked, "Is Minerva ..."

"She's my wife. We've been married for 45 years now."

Charlotte smiled. "She seems to be a very kind woman."

"More than I deserve."

"Certainly not," she retorted, shaking her head. "I know you need to get going, but I want to say ..." she looked away. "Do you think it's horrible to be happy at a time like this, with so many people dead?"

Albus touched a hand to her cheek, then patted Fawkes - who was still sitting peacefully on her lap. "No, my child. At least, I sincerely hope not because, out of all the evil that Voldemort has perpetrated this week, it's brought me you, and I will never find myself regretting that."