ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Invitation for Amelie

"Amelia! Amelia, come down!"

Thin, thirteen-year-old girl heaved a deep sigh and slammed the chemistry textbook with a deafening thump. With all due respect and love for her mother, Amelie sincerely believed that she used her own brain too rarely, giving inadmissible amount of attention to every trifle.

For example, now she would probably try to get Emily to have breakfast. Or lunch. 

Why waste time eating or sleeping, when there are so many interesting things in this world.

"Amelie!"

"Coming!"

A snow-white winding staircase, cream wallpaper decorated with exquisitely-golden thin patterns, a flawless white carpet, a crystal white chandelier and a sofa of the same color. Her mother, Estelle, in a pale pink dress embroidered with pearls, perfectly blended with the general background of the living room. It seemed that Estelle was an integral part of this place, and if she leaves the room, all this harmony would collapse, at once losing its special warmth and charm.

Amelie, awkwardly wrapped in green blanket, in her old shorts and baggy black T-shirt looked like a stray kitten, accidentally caught in the midst of all this splendor.

But this time she wasn't alone. Apart from Estelle, there was an eccentric old man in the living room. His well-sewn, clean and ironed clothes seemed too old, too simple and too ordinary for the Parker family's house.

Amelie's father would've said that this good man probably needs money, but he will never dare ask because of his pride. Amelie's father was a materialist to the core, but he struggled to love people and help them as much as possible.

Amelie stared at the old man, stopping at the top step of the stairs, glaring at the guest and squinting as his spectacles flashed slyly, catching the sun's reflections.

"Who are you?" she grumbled extremely rude.

"Professor Dumbledore," the guest bowed his head slightly.

"Amelie, come down and greet the guest properly!" Estelle comically widened her eyes at her daughter.

She was never angry with her because of this behavior, she simply didn't really understand how one could be so closed and taciturn. And in every way tried to fix it. Unsuccessfully, I must say.

"Professor Dumbledore," the guest repeated, when Parker came downstairs and held out a fragile palm for a handshake.

The hand of the old man was dry and confidingly warm, which made Amelie even allow herself to relax a little and look at the stranger with some curiosity. 

Dumbledore winked at the girl. Wrapped in one big bundle of plaid, with only head sticking out, Amelie looked like a small disgruntled mushroom, peeping out of the grassy canopy.

"Professor Dumbledore came to us from closed boarding school," Estelle began. "He says that your intellectual abilities attracted directorate's attention." 

Estelle's eyes shone, she always believed that her daughter was inexplicably intelligent and possessed absolutely outstanding abilities in all fields. "It's a unique chance, Amelie! I'm so happy for you!"

As expected, mother had overreacted and burst into tears. She gently wiped happy tears with an unnaturally white handkerchief.

"Let me talk to your daughter in private," Professor Dumbledore smiled and Estelle retired, sobbing. Amelie winced; mother's unrestrained nature sometimes amazed her.

"Sit down," Amelie said with all possible amiability and waved her hand awkwardly towards the sofa. She and Dumbledore simultaneously looked at this strange piece of furniture, resembling a meringue, and sighed with doubt.

"I think I'll pass," Dumbledore said.

"Well, I will too."

"So, Amelie..." the guest began cautiously.

"Just spit it out. I'm not good with fancy words."

Dumbledore's brows raised in surprise, but he nodded in agreement. "The school I want to invite you to, Amelie, is sort of unique."

"Closer to the point."

Dumbledore choked. "It's a school of witchcraft and wizardry, Miss Parker."

"Wizardry?" Parker's face showed no emotion.

"Yes."

"And what are you doing there? Conjuring?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Um... Well, there are many types of magic: transfiguration, potions, charms-"

"And science?"

"What?"

"What about science?" Amelie frowned. "I guess your magic stopped at the level when it began to be denied in this world. That is, when science started to develop. Do you seriously think that I will exchange the real prospect of intellectual development for dubious opportunity to be like a medieval witch?"

Dumbledore looked silently at Amelie. Amelie looked back. She had a strikingly warlike and alienated look, and Hogwarts headmaster had to note that he saw such reaction for the first time in his life.

Perhaps it's all about age... Thirteen is not eleven.

"That is, according to you, you're ready to reject the only chance to learn something new and unique only because of your own prejudices? And you don't even dare try?"

"What? No!" Emily jumped up and immediately frowned even more, "You're manipulating me!"

Now Dumbledore's eyebrows crawled almost to the top of his head. This girl was very entertaining.

Professor expected a lot - joyful squeals, curious mistrust, questions, embraces, tears, uncertainty. He was ready to come and repent that he didn't notice the magical talent of the muggle-born immediately. He was ready to apologize to the girl and her parents as many times as it takes. He was ready to pay for her first school purchases.

But now he radically changed his mind. He wanted to see how Amelie would cope with all this when she realize she was lagging behind the rest of the children for two whole years, even though she was born in muggle family who initially had no idea of magic.

And he didn't doubt the fact that she'd cope.

"Pick a time, Miss Parker, we'll go to the magical part of London in order to buy you a magic wand and other school supplies. You'll see this world from the other side and, I assure you, it will enthrall you."

"Magic wand? A piece of wood I'll have to wave?" Amelie completely ignored headmaster's good-natured tone.

"Miss Parker," Dumbledore shook his head and a slight disapproval flashed through his eyes.

The girl hesitated for a second, pondered about something, biting her lip, and finally nodded.

"Excuse me. Tomorrow at noon," she said as if she had set the time, not particularly worried about whether it was convenient for interlocutor. However, it was so.

"Fine," Dumbledore didn't sound surprised. He couldn't be surprised anymore. "In that case, I also need to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Parker-"

"I'll do it myself."

"What?"

"You don't understand," Amelie's lips tightened and she shook her head. "She's a little... stupid. She won't understand. Only I can explain to her."

"But you know almost nothing."

"I know enough to make certain conclusions. Will you come tomorrow at noon?"

"I will."

"Perfect."

Amelie Parker didn't know yet about the consequences of this day and this decision. What kind of people she will meet and through what challenges she will have to go through.

And Professor Dumbledore had no idea that this young, unsociable witch would achieve, that she would be able to unite the scientific and magical branches together and achieve incredible results in the future.

But he guessed.