chocolate » marauder era [r.lupin]

4 ☽ dumbledores office.

Only a short chapter sorry x

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f o u r
— potions

December 23rd, 1975

     It was now Florence's fifth year at Hogwarts.

Normally she would enjoy spending her break time with Tom, helping out at the Leaky Cauldron, although Christmas Eve was tomorrow and she couldn't help but wonder what she was to do in the short holiday period.

The Leaky Cauldron is completely full during Christmas time so Florence would let Tom rent out her room, and with Lily to return home, she found herself feeling rather alone.

   "Miss Nightingale," a wise voice filled her ears, one which she had only heard from a distance.

Albus Dumbledore stood behind the girl, breaking her from her thoughts.
Turning around she straightened her slouched posture and widened her eyes slightly.

Prior to Dumbledores appearance, she had been sitting at the Gryffindor table, alone. Lily had left to go pack her bags and she had been poking at her breakfast deep in thought.

Usually Remus was there, she new he was staying for the Holidays, but the last she saw him was when she was leaving the library, looked sick, his skin pasty and dark bags were under his eyes. Seeing her he had quickly turned around and rushed the other direction.

   "Yes Headmaster?" She asked, confusion laced in her voice.

   "Would you be able to accompany me to my office, there are matters I wish to discuss in private."

   Florence only found herself more confused at the mans words. Nodding hesitantly, she rose and followed him. When they arrived at a towering stone Gargoyle, Dumbledore chanted the words: Fizzing Whizbee.

Florence turned to the aged wizard in confusion, what an odd man. In that exact moment scraping stone sounded as the Gargoyle turned, revealing a set of stairs, spiralling up three flaws.

   "Come now Miss Nightingale," Dumbledore called, he was already halfway up the stairs and was now out of view.

   "For an old man, he is fast," Florence murmured, hesitantly following her Headmaster up the stairs.

   "Please take a seat Miss Nightingale."

Dumbledore was sorting through his desk, seeming to be looking for something of importance.

Florence marvelled at the sight around her. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all were sitting upright in stature in the headmasters chair their frames. Then there was the enormous, claw-footed desk, which Dumbledore stood behind and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard's hat—the Sorting Hat.

She gazed at the hat rather questioningly.

   "Toffee Eclair Miss Nightingale?" Dumbledore offered.

   "No thank you Headmaster," Florence answered.

   "Well, all the more for myself," he popped one in his mouth before taking a seat.

Florence couldn't help but being sick with dread, she was so caught up in the marvels of this wonderful room all thought of why she was there had left her.

Only now when her eyes landed on a piece of inked parchment on Dumbledore's desk did she realise the importance.

A fancy logo marked the top middle of the parchment, with articulate cursive ink trailing down finishing only half an inch from the bottom. It had been signed and stamped.

Please may it not involve me, she chanted in her mind.

Maybe she was here for another reason, but as Dumbledore sat, he smiled— not his usual magical smile that you saw in the great hall the one which pulled the air out of you in awe and wonder —no, this was a smile of sympathy.

   "Florence, as times such as these one must remember that Hogwarts is always going to be a home for you and no matter what hardship a student like yourself is to face, Hogwarts will..." He paused, "Florence, you aren't here unfortunately for a casual cup of tea and to discuss the thoughts of the top quidditch team."

Florence nodded.

   "Florence your parents were found murdered yesterday evening."

Florence's throat tightened, her eyes closed and when she opened tears clouded her view. One tear slipped down her pale cheek, then followed another. Wiping them quickly she took a deep breath. They did not deserve her tears.

  "When?" She asked with a strong voice.

A.N :
wow okay, so this book hit 2k reads, I am honestly astounded, I mean, I'm blown away by the fact all my books have received so much support and reads by you all! It truly is astonishing. Anyway, thanks again you lovely, beautiful people! I really do appreciate what you all do, even if you think it's not much :) you all made my day! One day I promise there will be no need for me to apologise for yet again, a tardy update, sorry!
Love,
⌁ h4ppie