Chapter Text
It was the early hours of a new day, in a perfectly circular office impossibly attached to the top of a tower, where an old man sat with a most peculiar item hovering above his desk. His shining blue eyes, behind half-moon spectacles, were focused as he guided a single thread into what most closely resembled a silver cigarette lighter. It was as thin as a single strand of hair and seemed utterly devoid of light. Once the thread was completely nestled in the silver case, he grabbed the object and flicked it open. All the lights were sucked in and the lid snapped shut. The room was now in shadow save for the soft light of the rising sun peering in through the windows. The man sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was old, very old. He had long silver hair and seemed to be in the process of growing a beard to match it in length.
“Is that it Dumbeldore? Is that all your newest invention can do?” piped up a voice from one of the portraits on the wall.
“It appears so, Phineas,” Chuckled the one called Dumbledore, looking at the portrait with an amused expression. “I must admit, I was aiming for something a little bit different.”
“Doesn’t the headmaster of Hogwarts have more important things to tend to?” bit back the portrait. He was a clever-looking wizard with silver eyes and a displeased look etched on his face.
“Why indeed,” sighed the old wizard, “but I am old enough to have earned the right to indulge myself at times.” He moved to click it again when there was an eerie green light as if a lightning bolt struck the grounds outside.
“Oh does that little object of yours do that as well? If so I take back what I said, that was quite impressive.” called out the portrait.
But Dumbledore had already moved towards the window which overlooked the vast lake and the forest beyond. His phoenix, which until now was perched languidly on a stand, flew towards the old headmaster and circled over his head. Lifting a hand, Dumbledore grabbed the ends of the feathers and they both effortlessly took off out the window into the grounds where the eerie light had struck.
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On the other side of the castle, unaware of the strange happenings outside, the school mediwitch walked up to the only occupied bed in the hospital wing. It was still early but her patient was awake and restless. “How are you feeling Mr. Fenwick?”
“I’m quite alright, Madam Pomfrey. I should probably head down to the Great Hall for breakfast, get there while the scones are still fresh!” The boy said with a hopeful look in his blue eyes.
“Nonsense, you took a bludger to the head and fell off your broom,” reprimanded the nurse. “Your leg has healed nicely but I want you to stay here for a little longer.”
Before he could voice his objections, the door to the hospital wing was swung open and the headmaster walked in. An unconscious body of a girl, covered with blood and dirt was levitating in front of him. Her brown hair was singed at the ends and her face and hands were covered with scratches and bruises. “Poppy, I believe your expertise is needed rather urgently,” Dumbledore said as he lowered the girl on one of the beds.
“Albus? What happened?” exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, rushing to her newest patient.
“I’m not quite certain of that myself.” Dumbledore's eyes were fixed on the girl with a contemplative look.
The nurse was moving her wand over the girl’s body, her lips pressed in a thin line. “She isn’t a student.” She whispered, looking at the headmaster with questioning eyes. Dumbledore shook his head. In a louder voice, Madam Pomfrey called out, “Would you make yourself useful Mr. Fenwick, and bring the case of potions from my office?”
Benjy scrambled to his feet and went to retrieve said items, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the nurse’s foul disposition whenever she was particularly worried about a patient. As he approached the pair he could hear Madam Pomfrey whispering “... found her here! But that’s -” she stopped abruptly just as Benjy reached the bed.
Madam Pomfrey grabbed the potions and with a flick of her wand the curtains around the girl’s bed were drawn. Benjy was standing there rather awkwardly. He looked up at Professor Dumbledore but the old headmaster was deep in thought, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the girl was, now hidden behind pristine white curtains. Where did he find her and what had happened to her, he wondered. His musing was interrupted by a loud gasp. A moment later the nurse pulled back the curtains looking stricken.
“Albus, you need to see this,” was Madam Pomfrey's strained voice. Dumbledore moved towards the bed and glanced at what had the nurse looking as though she had swallowed something very bitter. “Who would do such a thing, Albus?”
“I think that Poppy, we both know the answer to that question..” Dumbledore sighed, his expression grim. “I leave her in your care, I must make some inquiries. Call for me as soon as she wakes.” Dumbledore turned to leave but spared one last look from behind his glasses at Benjy. “Mr. Fenwick, might I suggest that we keep the events of this morning to ourselves, it would be… unwise to draw too much attention.”
“Of course Professor, I understand.” Benjy replied, with a nod, Dumbledore left the hospital wing in haste. He was still standing there when Madam Pomfrey finally drew back the curtains, her expression concerned. The girl was now wearing a hospital gown and she looked awfully pale and thin. “Is she going to be alright?” Benjy asked with a frown.
Madam Pomfrey, who had busied herself with straightening the bedsheets, looked at him as though she had forgotten he was still there. “I believe so Fenwick.”
“Is there anything else I can do, Madam Pomfrey?”
“Yes, you can go back to bed and rest. I shall bring you some breakfast shortly.” The nurse said not unkindly and moved back towards her office.
Benjy stood for a few moments longer contemplating the girl. He was sure she wasn’t a student here but she seemed to be around his age. With a sigh, he walked towards his own bed. He figured it would only be a matter of time before the war began to creep inside the walls of Hogwarts.