Chapter Text
The house was too quiet.
Aurora Black sat cross-legged on the floor in the drawing room in front of the family tree, frowning at the wizard chessboard in front of her.
The silence felt wrong. Grimmauld Place was never quiet. Despite the fact that it lacked people to fill up the many rooms, and that it was pretty much isolated from the rest of the wizarding world, it was never this quiet.
There was always something. Either portraits shouting things, Kreacher muttering to himself while he was cleaning, doors slamming on their own, floorboards groaning, her grandmother complaining. There was always noise.
But today there was nothing.
She picked up the black bishop and moved it 3 squares. She knew doing that would upset one of the many people watching her from the portraits - her moving the chess piece like a muggle.
"Check." she said to the board, waiting for it to move.
Nothing happened, not even the portraits telling her off for doing what she did.
Aurora looked up.
'You're supposed to say something.'
The portrait above the fireplace stared down at her. It was of an old witch that Aurora had never bothered to learn the name of. Normally, this woman would have shouted at her already, however, today, she just looked away.
Aurora narrowed her eyes.
'Your all being weird.' she said but again, got no response. With a huff, she shoved herself to her feet, and the chess pieces on the board began to fight, her black pieces attacking the white ones.
Aurora decided to ignore it.
Everything had not been right in the house since breakfast, Kreature had dropped a plate, one of the portraits had been crying, and no one would tell her where her grandmother was.
Normally Aurora would have been thrilled. Grandmother being gone meant that the day would be peaceful, no lectures, no getting shouted at and no getting told how to sit, speak and act like how to behave like a 'proper pureblooded young women'
Aurora had spent years wishing for walburga Black to simply leave her alone.
So why did the house feel so wrong?
"Kreacher?" she called.
The house elf appeared instantly with a crack. His eyes were red and puffy, making aurora frown.
"Why are you crying?" Aurora asked, her head tilting to the side.
"Kreacher is not crying misstress." the elf replied
"You are."
"Kreacher is not." the elf doubled down, and aurora stared at him, and the elf stared right back, then his face crumpled.
For a moment, she thought he might actually start sobbing, and she had no idea how to comfort a house elf, but instead he turned away from her.
Aurora's frown deepened. "Where's grandmother?"
Kreacher didn't answer.
"Everyone's ignoring me." Aurora said. "Have I done something bad again?"
She was ignored again by the elf.
"Kreacher." she whined.
The house elves' shoulders trembled and something in Aurora's chest twisted uncomfortably.
"Is she angry at me again"' Aurora started quietly "because i've been trying to be good-"
Aurora really did not want her grandmother to be angry with her again, last time was so bad that she did not even like to think about it. Kreacher made a strange noise.
"Mistress is not angry with you, Miss Aurora."
"Then where is she!"Aurora said, getting frustrated.
There was a long pause.
"Mistress walburga is resting." Kreacher said, choking up.
Aurora stared at him. That wasn't an answer to what she asked.
"Can I go and see her?" Aurora asked.
"No." the elf said firmly.
"Why not?"
Another pause.
"Kreacher thinks Miss Aurora should stay downstairs."
Aurora immediately decided she was going upstairs. She had reached the first step when a loud knock echoed through the house.
Kreacher froze. The portraits froze, and even Aurora stopped moving. Nobody ever knocked on the door.
Nobody.
Anyone who ever came to visit always used the floo. When her cousins came- they used the floo. When her grandmother's friends came- they used the floo. Even people from the ministry used floo powder to get to their house.
Something really wasn't right
There was another knock. Kreacher looked terrified, and Aurora had never seen him look terrified before. A strange feeling crawled down her spine.
And there was a third knock. Kreacher swallowed, and then, he very slowly turned towards the door. Aurora followed after him. The old floorboards groaned as they crossed the hallway towards the door. And, Aurora felt terrified about whatever might be on the other side of the door. Kreacher reached for the handle and the lock clicked. Then, the door opened.
And standing on the other side of it, was an old man with sparkling blue eyes.
Nobody spoke, and Aurora felt the urge to hide as the old man set his eyes on her. For a long moment he simply watched her, then he crouched down so they were level.
"Hello, Aurora," he said.
She frowned.
"Who are you?" she asked, crossing her arms. How did this old man know her name?
"My name is Albus Dumbledore."
'Like the chocolate frog card?' she asked, her head tilting to the side slightly.
The man, 'Dumbledore', didn't answer.He just glanced briefly toward the staircase, and Something flickered across his face. Aurora's eyebrows furrowed and her nose scrunched slightly. Something was definitely not right.
'Where's my grandmother.' she asked, suddenly feeling nervous.
Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, he smiled. It was a kind smile, the sort of smile people gave frightened children. But there was something else there too. Something that made Aurora's stomach twist.
"Come with me," he said softly.
"Why?" Aurora asked, staying firmly where she was. 'My uncle Lucius doesn't like you very much.'
Something aurora didn't recognize passed over his face. Then he sighed.
"I am not here to harm you," he said calmly. "But I am afraid we do not have time for long conversations."
"That does not make sense," Aurora replied immediately. "If you want me to go somewhere, you should explain it properly."
"I understand," he said.
But he didn't explain anything, so, clearly, he did not understand.
Aurora glanced back over her shoulder. Kreacher was still standing by the door, and the portraits had gone still, like they were not magic at all.
She turned back to the man.
"I don't want to go," she said more firmly.
Then Dumbledore stood. Slowly. As if not to startle her.
"I am afraid," he said softly, his blue eyes twinkling, "that is not entirely your choice."