Chapter Text
July 29th, 1993
I watched my mother rummage around the kitchen aimlessly while mumbling incoherencies to herself as she opened and shut all the cabinets and drawers— trying her very best not to ruin the baked good she was preparing.
As for myself, I couldn't fathom being able to move a muscle from our living room couch.
I glanced down at the opened letter in my trembling hand, clutching it tightly yet staring at it blankly. I must've reread it for the billionth time since I first spotted it in yesterday's mail since I already memorized it by heart.
Ms. (Y/L/N),
I believe it is time we met.
I plan to visit tomorrow at nightfall. We have quite the conversation ahead of us.
I look forward to meeting you.
My very best wishes,
Albus Dumbledore.
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
My eyes flickered up to the opened window that held the tedious view of the neighborhood. The skies were turning purple and hazy, which made my stomach drop even further.
He would be here soon.
The importance that Dumbledore's name held was so vast that it was known all the way here in America.
Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts was nothing insignificant and attending Hogwarts was something I fantasized about ever since I first found out about it.
So much so, that when I was five, I had a big tantrum when I found out I couldn't go. The house shook as dishes shattered and broke to smithereens and the toe-curling screeches that I let out broke all the mirrors in the house. I had my mom regretting the day that she didn't give birth to me in the United Kingdom herself.
Nonetheless, Dumbledore's letter was so incredibly ominous and no matter how many times mom and I read and reread it, we couldn't come to an agreement as to why he would be visiting us.
Mom suggested the obvious but I refuse to accept it. I'd hate to get my hopes up tonight for nothing.
I later suggested that maybe this was a courtesy visit he made to every young witch and wizard in America but mom pointed out that if it was just that, he’d simply send a letter of acknowledgment and wouldn’t bother making the long trip.
Speaking of, his method of arrival was also a big mystery to us— so we woke up early in the morning after a sleepless night and cleaned the whole house in case of Apparition.
Tension suffocated the entire house and just as the timer on the electric stove oven dinged, an enormous thump was heard in the second level of our apartment that had me sprinting up the stairs after sharing a brief look of panic with my mom.
I curiously poked my head inside every room, noticing nothing out of the ordinary until I got to my bedroom.
As I opened the door, the first thing I saw was the stature of a man that could be mistaken for none other but Albus Dumbledore.
He looked identical to the few pictures I'd seen of him. Six feet and four inches tall. Long, silvery-white hair with a matching beard that looked long enough to tuck into his belt. He was thin and his wrinkled skin revealed that he was old as dirt but his twinkling blue eyes seemed to have endured from his youth.
"Ah, Miss (Y/L/N)! I seem to have apparated myself into your bedroom rather than the living room. I do beg your pardon." Dumbledore spoke in a calm and gentle tone. He bowed his head, smiling at me kindly through his half-moon glasses.
I recomposed myself from my state of shock. I didn’t want to appear rude since I was quite literally gaping at the man but it’s not every fucking day that one of the Wizarding World’s most prolific wizards appears standing in the middle of your childhood bedroom. He had to cut me some slack.
"A common mistake, I'm sure." I returned the gesture awkwardly, never having to bow at anyone in my life before this moment— but Albus Dumbledore seemed worthy of a bow.
My comment seemed to amuse the Headmaster. His eyes crinkled joyously as he inspected my room with great curiosity.
I became self-aware of the clutter. It was clean but not at all tidy. My walls were plastered with posters of bands and artists I liked amongst some pictures of my favorite films and actors that I daydreamed about daily.
My records and CDs were carelessly stacked and my guitars were sitting so horribly on their stand that it seemed like they were on the verge of tipping over and falling to the floor.
I then took notice of his long, silk, lilac cloak with elegant detailings of the moon and stars and compared it with my oversized Nirvana T-shirt and distressed jeans and immediately felt underdressed.
I flushed in embarrassment but Dumbledore still seemed engrossed with my possessions and was eyeing my CD player with great fascination.
"My mother is probably expecting us downstairs. She's baked you a pie, sir..." I remarked mostly to derive his attention and succeeded.
"How delightful! After you." He exclaimed cheerfully and bowed once more as I exited the room and headed downstairs.
"Lemon Meringue Pie," I explained to Dumbledore as we walked down the stairs.
"Aha! My favorite. Reminds me of my preferred sweet back home."
I beamed at him and searched the room for my mother’s attention— and to my relief, I found her staring at the pair of us with widened eyes and a slack jaw.
Good, so it wasn’t just me.
Whether she was shocked by the Professor’s height or because we were talking so comfortably as if he visited us often, I didn't know— but she quickly cleared her throat and outstretched a hand towards Dumbledore to greet him.
"Professor Dumbledore. It is an honor to meet you, sir. Thank you so much for taking the time to visit us! It’s quite the trip!" she laughed nervously and shook his hand enthusiastically which gave me the opportunity to sink down on the couch.
"Thank you for having me, Mrs. (Y/L/N). It's an abrupt visit, I'm sure. I ask that you accept my apology if I intruded on any of your plans?”
"You absolutely didn't! You've nothing to be sorry about,” Mom gushed, finally letting go of his hand and allowing him to sit down on the opposite couch in front of me as she rushed off to the kitchen to bring the pie she'd been working on the whole afternoon.
Something about Dumbledore's presence made all the tension and high-anxiety in the room diminish as we smiled at each other politely whilst mom rushed over with the pie, a stack of plates, and utensils for us all.
Dumbledore's eyes seemed to light up as he took in the sight of the dessert.
"Made this myself, borrowed the recipe from a friend. I hope you enjoy..." She handed a plate with a big slice over to Dumbledore and as he graciously took it, she proceeded to cut another slice.
Something about what my mother said seemed to spark interest in the Headmaster.
We waited patiently until mom sat down by my side. I denied her a piece of pie, feeling too nervous to eat.
"First and foremost I would like to apologize again for the sudden visit. This visit has been one I've been meaning to make since last year, but an urgent matter transpired back at Hogwarts that required my immediate attention."
He's been meaning to visit since last year?
I glanced at my mom to see if she noticed this comment to find her fleeting eyes peering back at me.
"(Y/N)..." He continued. "I've been informed that ever since you were an infant, you’ve always been... magically advanced. I assumed that the academies and schools here would aid and educate your abilities and for that, I do apologize.”
At the age of one, I apparently used to make my stuffed animals float towards me when they were across the room and make the butterfly-themed musical mobile on top of my crib play on its own. But never in my lifetime did I imagine that Albus Dumbledore would know about any of this.
These magical capabilities stayed with me for years but once I turned five, my mom sought out someone who could help me control them after I started turning pillows into small, fluffy puppies and wreaking havoc by turning a whole room upside down every time I had a crying fit.
She found an academy, and after that one, she found another, and after that one came another...
But we were never fully satisfied.
Everywhere we went, the goal was for me to be able to hide my powers so the Muggles wouldn't suspect me.
I think one academy even went as far as to teach me some history of the Wizarding World but I never got to have a wand or learn Potions, or Transfigurations, or Defense Against The Dark Arts like I knew the Hogwarts students were learning.
Basically, after finding out about Hogwarts and all the perfections it held, everything here seemed dull and useless.
Now here I am, in my teens with an education limited to the few Wizarding books I could salvage throughout the past years and with the remarkable ability of super-self-control over my powers.
My solemn silence was inspected by Dumbledore before he shifted his attention to my mother.
"Mrs. (Y/L/N). I take it that you're a witch?" His head was tilted back slightly so he could look at her through those thin spectacles of his.
"Y-yes, sir. (Y/N)'s father is, as well. Er, a wizard, I mean."
"And, if I may ask, do you have a wand?"
"Oh, yes, Headmaster! When I was younger I got the opportunity to meet a wandmaker who crafted it for me. Different times...back then... but the academies (Y/N)'s attended advised that I stash it away to prevent any unwanted attention from Muggles,"
I pouted at the fact that she had a wand and wasn't even able to use it. Our whole situation always seemed so unfair to me.
As my mom rambled and explained everything she's done to hide any proof of our magical abilities, Dumbledore took the opportunity to pop a spoonful of pie in his mouth and smiled so buoyantly as he chewed. Something told me that this was due fully to the pie and had nothing to do with whatever my mother was saying.
"Very well. As you both possibly know, I do not agree with the education given here in America. At Hogwarts, we take pride in giving a full education to any witch or wizard— as well as teaching our students how to control their abilities. Not to hide them completely. Your daughter is a very talented witch. Having exhibited such magical capacities at the young age she did and learning to control them is absolutely marveling. I regret not doing this any sooner but I do hope that you both consider her enrollment at Hogwarts for this upcoming term?”
I didn't even have to look at my mom to know that she was staring at the Headmaster with the same dumbstruck look I was.
Dumbledore merely chuckled and dove back into his lemon pie, humming in delight after another mouthful.
"You're offering me to study at Hogwarts?" My voice came out hoarse considering how dry my throat went the last few moments.
"Oh, absolutely, Ms. (Y/L/N). Now," Dumbledore cleared his throat and placed his plate down on the coffee table between us. "I have been gathering information on you, (Y/N). You're quite advanced and I trust you'd fit in well in Year Three with the rest of the students who are your age. We will have to test you, but I see no need to worry about starting with the First Years." His eyes crinkled in amusement but my mind was elsewhere that I couldn't grasp the same hilarity of me in a classroom with some ten-year-olds the same way he did.
"Sorry– Information on me? What else is there?" My interest got the best of me as I lifted my legs up on the couch and sat crossed-legged, completely disregarding the proper way of sitting when we had important guests, to my mom's irritation. She scowled at me in disapproval but said nothing.
"Well, there are mostly reports on your education from your academies. However, having two pure-blooded wizards as parents definitely gave me the advantage to be able to delve into your history and find out that you have distant Veela ancestry from your father's side,"
My eyebrows raised and I turned to my mother who shook her head at me in equal surprise. She didn't seem to know either.
I knew that Veela were some sort of magical beings who were apparently very beautiful. I've read about them somewhere in my minuscule Wizarding book collection. They had white-gold hair and moon-bright skin, and they were known to make men act stupid with their hypnotically seductive movements.
Having not seen much magic in my life, I couldn't imagine ever laying my eyes on a Veela, nonetheless having them as ancestors, but I suddenly remembered the few strands of white hair that I had near the back of my neck that I always assumed was a birthmark.
I furrowed my eyebrows when thinking about my dad and how little I knew about him before pushing all thoughts away to bring myself back to the present.
I noticed Dumbledore had crumbs of Lemon Meringue Pie tangled in his long beard and somehow it made this moment feel much more real.
"Excuse me, sir, but doesn't the term start in September?" I heard my mother ask and I was brought back to earth.
"Ah, it does— doesn't it? You ought to forgive me for the lack of time for a decision... but I'm afraid I must know your answer before departing. I have to get some affairs in order if you choose to accept." His expression was serene.
I turned to look at my mom to find her eyes welling up with tears as she smiled at me. She nodded urgently and rubbed my back.
"Oh, darling— you have to. It's your dream." She cooed softly, murmuring so only I could hear.
I nodded quickly, kissing my mom on the cheek, and turned to Dumbledore who was giving us our privacy by inspecting our TV remote closely.
"I- I accept." I grinned widely at the Professor and his warm smile returned to his face.
"Wonderful! I was so very hoping that'd be your answer." He put down the remote with comical gentleness and pulled out an envelope from the inside of his robe that had neat handwriting written with green ink addressed to me.
He handed me the letter which I took in awe.
My very own Hogwarts acceptance letter.
"Inside you'll find all the information you need regarding your school materials, instructions on where to go once you arrive to England, and more. It has been such a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). And you, Mrs. (Y/L/N). You must send me a recipe for this pie of yours. It was absolutely delightful."
After we both graciously shook Dumbledore's hand so much it probably ached, and after my mother gushed at him some more, he disapparated in the middle of our living room.
Once we were sure he was gone, we shrieked in excitement and ran into each other's arms.
"I'M GOING TO HOGWARTS!" I screamed in pure elation as we fell back into the couch in a tight embrace and laughed.
"Charming man, ey? Tha' Dumbledore" My mother said in a mock-British accent— making me giggle and nod in agreement.
I was going to Hogwarts.
It was so surreal that after dreaming of attending this school for years, it would finally come true.