Chapter 3
Losing Mind, Gaining Hope
"It's such a pity," whispered a vaguely familiar voice.
Norah clutched a sharp wand, which could perform no magical deeds whatsoever, but could manage as a muggle-like weapon, Norah figured. She grasped the unusually sharp edge of the wooden desk with her free hand and peaked around the corner ever so quietly. Never had she realized just how sharp the edge of that desk actually was. Razor sharp, gosh dang it. As her anxious eyes scanned the stranger wandering about the shop, her hand slipped down slightly on the edge of the desk. Blood began trickling down her palm, seeping carelessly through its ridges. Norah wiped her hand furiously on her white pajamas, cringing as the blood stained the clear cloth. The majestic man who had whispered earlier neared the very location Norah was crouched tightly into.
"Show yourself," he said sternly.
Immediately, Norah sensed that the stern voice seemed awkward for a man with such a gentle appearance. She uncoiled herself and leaped up without a bit of hesitation, leaving a handprint of blood imprinted in the floorboards. The man stared concernedly at her with wide eyes. A numerous amount of blood stains were splattered about on her pajamas that were as clear as day. The very sigh of her would make anyone think she was a bloody murderer.
"Norah?" the man uttered.
"Possibly," Norah replied slyly, clutching her useless excuse for a weapon.
She tossed a handful of her locks over her shoulder and eyed the wizard strangely. Placing her hand closely to her mouth, she licked the salty blood of her palm, hoping desperately she was giving off the impression that she was a "rebel without a cause" and that she was indeed feeling dangerous. It wasn't until after she considered the sight of herself that she realized she was giving off more of the impression screaming, "Damn, I'm crazy." In fact, if she hadn't been traumatized from recent events, she would have been laughing maniacally at the very scene she was making. The silver bearded wizard in front of her may very well just give her over to St. Mungo's instead of dealing with her. Norah's eyes widened at the possibility of this.
"Norah," he spoke gently, thankfully ignoring the hysterical scene she had just performed.
"I don't believe we started off on the right foot. I am Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Oh, hello," Norah said turning a bright shade of pink.
Professor Dumbledore's face lit up warmly and he carefully made his way toward the rather embarrassed 16 year old.
"Professor..." Norah blurted, full of curiosity and anxiousness, "What's happening? My...my grandfather is gone and the only trace left last night besides all the broken wands is that," she said pointing directly to the dark mark of Lord Voldemort.
"Is..." she paused hesitantly, "Is everything okay?" she said avoiding her grandfather's name, for it was too painful to even speak.
Tears began forming in her eyes filled with worry.
Dumbledore stood considering how to console the eyes full of concern in front of him.
"Miss Ollivander, at the moment," he began, "At the moment, we have no more information than you have. Our only other possible clue is that this may link back to the murders of Bella and Cedric Ollivander, " he studied Norah's pale face, "your parents."
"We are very hopeful though Norah. We have sent many of our best and brightest wizards to investigate this. They are searching as we speak for an approximate location of your grandfather. As of now though, I'm afraid we do not know his current condition. We will receive updates periodically and I will make it my business to inform you of what is happening."
"In the mean time," he cleared his throat, " we feel it best you come to Hogwarts. It is now heavily guarded, compliments of the Ministry of Magic and is awaiting your arrival."
Norah's head was spinning wildly with thoughts.
"Your books, wardrobe, and class schedule have been arranged previously for you. Since you are 16 years of age, you will join students in their sixth year. If I am not mistaken, you have been pre-selected for the Gryffindor house. Oh dear, I havent let you get a word in. Do you have any questions dear?"
Quickly, Norah unpursed her lips, but before she received a chance to speak, Dumbledore smiled and continued on contently.
"Ah, that's what I thought. Ollivander's are known for their sensibility and wisdom, I believe you live up to that quite well. I know that is a lot to swallow, but your departure from here is vital and must be done quickly. The Dark Lord is on the rise again, and no one knows where he will strike next. I ask only one more favor of you. You must lie low, if you understand what I am saying. Hogwarts is your safehouse, but you should never give out an excessive amount of information about yourself. Hogwart's faculty and students are the only ones in our world who at the moment know about your whereabouts and in order to stay safe, we must keep it that way. Understood?"
"Yes sir," Norah answered quietly.
"About that hand dear..." Professor Dumbledore spoke urgently.
***Remember Norah, loose lips sink ships...***
proceed - - - - - - ->
Chapter 4 portrays the beginning of Norah's journey at Hogwart's. I am hoping to get it out sometime this week. I have devised the overall story plot, but it is subject to change...so stay tuned.
Thanks for reading!
♥20251
