When in doubt, jump in head first

19. Never take a Dumbledore at his word

Dashing along the wooden walkways of Laketown, Laelynn hoped against hope that they weren't too late. That Thorin hadn't told the Master about the quest, or even worse the townsfolk. The townsfolk that would happily blame the dwarves when the dragon made its way down the river and burnt them alive. If, she scolded herself, if the dragon makes it to the town.

Bain and Tilda were running ahead of her, leading the way, while Bombur, Bofur, Glóin, and Sigrid followed. They made quite a sight, leaping over narrower channels, and taking steps three at a time, but Laelynn deliberately forgot the gawping townsfolk, the chill on the wind coming from the north, the flurries of snow sneaking down her shirt. There was only Bain and Tilda in front of her, and the laboured breathing of the dwarves and Sigrid behind her.

The sun was sinking in the sky as they ran, until their only light was the moon's, and even then sometimes only its reflection on the lake would light their way. She though she heard a snatch of song on the air, but pushed it from her mind. Just these last few bridges, and they would be at the Master's hall. Bain and Tilda stopped suddenly, making Laelynn do an awkward twirl to avoid running straight into them.

The twirl's momentum carried her straight into the square outside the hall, where there was a large mass of people. Somehow, enough people moved out of her way that by the time she stopped she was at the front of the crowd and able to see everything.

Thorin was stood on the steps in front of the hall, with the other dwarves around him. Bilbo was stood at his right, and Dwalin at his left, while the rest made an intimidating mass. A man she supposed was the Master stood in the doorway of the hall, oozing wealth and opulence in a way that made her lip curl. Bard was stood in front of the crowd of townspeople, his face crushed. Laelynn heard the tune from earlier, and felt hot tears fill her eyes as the words became clear.

"The king beneath the mountain,
The king of carven stone,
The lord of silver fountains,
Shall come into his own!"

Her eyes caught Bard's, and she flinched at the pleaded question in his eyes. "I'm sorry," she mouthed, and he turned away. Her tears began to fall, and she looked at Thorin again, her view blurred. His face was so happy, as the townspeople celebrated, and Laelynn cried even more as she realised he didn't even think he could fail.

____________________

A quartet of people were standing in front of a large oak desk. The figure sat behind it was an old man, his posture stooped and aged but his bright blue eyes sharp and intelligent.

"You say she still hasn't shown up?" asked Dumbledore calmly, taking a sip from the teacup in front of him. Two of the people in the group winced, very carefully not looking at the other members of their party.

A dark-haired man scowled, his features twisting in rage. Beside him, a woman with blood-red hair's lip curled, anger and disgust painted on her features. Mister James and Miss Lily, sang a small voice in her head, and Laelynn wanted to laugh: they had all changed since the last time she'd called them that, but in her head they could never be anything more than Mister James and Miss Lily. She supposed it was for the best, but sometimes it would be nice to have had parents.

"No," spat Lily. "We haven't been able to find a trace of her."

"It's like she's disappeared off the face of the planet," said one of the other men. Sirius Black. He'd never really done anything to her opinion of him, and neither had Remus Lupin. The only thing Laelynn could remember about them was that he and Lupin were Harry's godfathers.

"Well she can't have done that," said James. "The goblins would notify me as Pater Familias if she'd died, or where she is on earth if it's outside Britain."