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Upon entering Dumbledore's office, I noticed it was only him that sat inside. Thankfully, my dad was nowhere in sight, which was a relief.
I walked up to his desk and sat across from him, saying nothing as I waited for the old man to speak.
"Good of you to come," Was all he said.
"Well, I got your note," I said, holding up the small piece of parchment and putting it on his desk.
"Right, I had a house-elf deliver that," He said, unwrapping a lemon drop he picked up from the bowl on his desk. "Care for one?" He asked, but I declined, "No, thank you."
He shrugged, pushing the bowl to the other side of his desk after I passed up on having one. We sat in silence for a little while, and I began to grow impatient with the man sitting before me.
"May I ask why I'm here?" I piped up after another two minutes of contemplation.
"I think we should talk, no? You have a very special skillset about yourself, don't you agree?" He asked, and I shrugged.
"I guess," I said.
"You're a Veela," He stated, and I almost rolled my eyes. Was it obvious?
"I know what you're thinking, and yes, I am sorry. I apologize for letting you go with your father, it wasn't one of my prouder moments. I had no control, though, he is your legal guardian, and protesting his taking you would've landed me in the Wizengamot," He reasoned.
"Right," I said, not wanting to fight back with the headmaster. It would really get me nowhere.
"I would like to protect you. Something is going to happen soon, something terrible, and I would like to be able to protect you before that thing happens," He said.
I grimaced internally. How was I supposed to tell him that I already had dealt with all of this? How would I say that when he let my clearly unstable dad take me from this school, I was thrown into this mess full force?
I didn't need protection anymore, I could take care of myself.
"Something terrible, huh?" I asked, fully over this conversation. Did he think I was stupid? Where did he think my dad took me that day? Out for ice cream?
"Yes, something- What aren't you telling me?" He asked suddenly, and I rolled my eyes now.
"There's a lot you don't seem to know," I said. I knew I was being rude, but at this point, I couldn't help it. This man was borderline senile, useless as all hell, and I had bigger things to worry about than some silly little empty warning from Dumbledore.
"Like what, Miss Warrington?"
"Like this, for starters," I said, lifting up my sleeve to show him the Dark Mark on my arm. His eyes widened, a sign that this had surely scared him. "When did you get that?" He asked, rising from his seat.
"When my dad took me to Voldemort. This is what happened when I left this school that day," I said, anger bubbling up inside me.
"He took you to You-Know-Who?"
"Where did you think he was taking me?! To father-daughter bond?!" I shouted, my volume rising, and my anger becoming more concentrated. "Settle down, Maggie," He said, knowing what would happen when I got mad. He knew of my powers.
"No! I am so sick of everyone treating me like I'm dangerous. I'm tired of being different, I just want a normal family and a normal life!" I exclaimed. The hair that was over my shoulders began to turn white, white as snow, and my breathing picked up.
"My life is falling apart in front of me, and it's all because I'm like this! My dad gave me to Voldemort, he thought he would kill me and he was okay with that!" I said, finding it very hard to breathe now as emotions pumped through my body.
I felt heat running through my veins and I took a step back as not to accidentally hurt Dumbledore or damage anything. "I can't risk anything, I can't be ignorant, or he'll kill us," I sighed.
"Voldemort? Why would he kill you?" Dumbledore asked, and I almost lost it at his words. "Is that a joke?" I seethed, fire forming in my hands. I tried to prevent it from happening, but here I was again: the basketcase. The pyromaniac. The psycho.
Dumbledore looked afraid of me. He looked genuinely worried about what I could possibly be capable of. "He hates half-bloods, and he knows what I am now," I said.
"I feel it is my obligation to bring up that Voldemort is not a pureblood either," He said, and the fire shot from my hands now as my anger exploded, "Well, he clearly isn't thinking about that," I growled.
Fireballs hit the stone floor and traveled to the carpet, to which Dumbledore used wandless magic and an extinguishing incantation to counter my powers. "Eatenus Exstinxisti," He muttered, putting the fire out, and I slowed my breathing.
"Tom was never a very rational fellow," He said as if that name should mean something to me. I scrunched up my brow. "Tom?" I asked, confused. My hair settled back to its natural color and the overwhelming heat from my hands died down.
"Tom Riddle," He finished his thought, but I still didn't understand.
"Who is that?" I asked, not understanding the ravings of this old man in front of me.
Without another word, he walked over to where I stood, and waved his hands in front of him, letters in a jumble appeared in the air before us. Then, with another wave of his hand, the letters formed a name.
T-O-M M-A-R-V-O-L-O R-I-D-D-L-E
"I still don't know who that is," I said monotonously.
"Not right now, you don't, but wait," He said, and I shrugged. I kept watching the letters until they jumbled around, scrambling themselves again into another word that finally cohered.
I A-M L-O-R-D V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T
"Voldemort?" I asked, and Dumbledore nodded, erasing the letters from the air and returning to his seat. "Come back next week, there's something I should show you," He said, and I nodded.
I began to walk away, but from behind me, he called out one more thing.
