Chapter Nine

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A HELPING HAND
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MARINA SMOOTHED HER sweaty hair back behind her ears and tried again to walk up the stairs. On the second step her thighs gave out and she caught herself heavily on the wall.

"Marina? Are you alright?" Olevia called, alarmed.

"Yeah – sorry," huffed Marina, waving away the witch's concern. "Just did too many squat kicks, you know how it is!"

Olevia, who evidently did not know how it was, gave her a curious look and floated off, straightening her rose pink pointed hat with the tip of her wand. Marina returned her attention to the monumental task of getting up to her room. She heaved herself up the stairs mostly by pushing on the walls and opened the door at the top with great relief. She was indescribably excited to flop onto her bed and have a forty-five minute shower –

"Oh," she said, staring at the occupants in her room.

Riddle leaned against the windowsill on the far wall, peering outside, and Dumbledore was sitting on her bed looking around her room with great interest.

"I like how you have decorated," Dumbledore said, "where on earth did you find all these plants?"

"I go on walks," Marina said as she leaned heavily on the door frame, "and there was a ton of spare pots in the second-hand shop next door."

"I see," Dumbledore frowned at her. "Are you alright? You seem out of sorts."

"My legs aren't working at the moment," Marina said as a way of explanation. She was a little disappointed that her long evening of doing nothing by herself had been interrupted. "Listen, did you need something? I was just gonna jump in the shower –"

"Yes, in fact, I need you to mind the diary this week," said Dumbledore conversationally. In the corner of the room, Riddle's expression hardened.

Marina didn't know what was going on. "Uh – sure. Are you alright?" Marina asked, trying to be delicate.

"I am very well, thank you Marina. However, the Hogwarts term starts at the end of this week and I'm afraid I'm quite overrun," smiled Dumbledore. "I thought this might be the perfect opportunity for you to – ah – get back in the game."

"Right," said Marina slowly. "Sure thing. Sorry – can you give me a minute? I am disgustingly sweaty right now."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, folding one leg over the other under the garish red and silver robes he was wearing.

"Thanks, give me a sec –"

Marina sped through her normal shower routine and wrestled on her comfiest pair of jeans, a stripy shirt with holes peeking through at its hem, and a worn yellow woollen jumper. She burst back into the room in record time, drying her hair with a towel.

"Sorry about that," she said, balancing on one leg with great effort to pull on one sock and then the other.

"Nonsense," said Dumbledore. He stood and passed her the diary, which she took and tucked into her jeans' back pocket. "I'm afraid I must be going. Marina – I'll be keeping to my office if you need anything." He looked over his half-moon spectacles and gave her a knowing look. Despite their differences, Marina couldn't deny that having him a call away made her feel much better about spending time with Riddle by herself.

"Thanks sir, good luck with all the headmastering," she grinned.

Dumbledore smiled, stepped through the fireplace, and with a small nod towards Riddle he was gone in a flash of flame.

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