The Scars to Prove It

Farren kept a bemused silence as she walked next to Headmaster Dumbledore. She knew that she had to be escorted back up to the castle due to the protective enchantments, but she had expected to meet Filch, the bitter man that roamed the school. Farren wasn’t even sure what his job was, aside from terrifying the first years and patrolling the halls with his demon-cat. Optimistically, she was hoping to be met by Hagrid. She would have been able to recover if it was McGonagall, she had spoken to her head of house before, albeit not for very long. But she had in no way expected to be walking up the path to the school next to Dumbledore as he hummed a chipper tune after offering her a lemon drop. Surprised or not, Farren was grateful for the lemon drop. The tart candy kept her mouth busy and gave her an excuse to keep silent.

When they reached the Great Hall, Farren hesitated, unsure of where to go. As it was a little past two on a Friday, most everyone was in class. She jumped a bit when Dumbledore spoke.

“I see no reason for you to enter in the middle of a class, Miss Zabell. Would you object to spending a bit of time in my office?”

Farren shook her head and followed him around the main staircase to a smaller set, guarded by a cranky looking gargoyle.

“Password?” it croaked.

“Lemon drop.”

Farren almost laughed aloud, and then followed the headmaster up a spiral staircase. When she entered the office, she could not contain her gasp. The office was cluttered, but in a way that made it clear it was well used. Strange and intricate instruments sat upon every surface, and books covered the walls. However intriguing the décor was, it was a relatively simple object that made her gasp. Behind Dumbledore’s desk there was a stand, a bit taller than Farren, topped with a bird perch. And on the perch sat the most beautiful bird Farren had ever seen.

The headmaster followed her gaze and smiled. “Ah, I see you’ve taken a liking to my companion. His name is Fawkes and he is a— ”

“Phoenix,” interrupted Farren, still studying the creature. “He’s very handsome,” she said, mostly to herself, but she could have sworn Fawkes winked at her.

“I believe you’ve just made a friend for life, Miss Zabell,” Dumbledore chuckled. “Please, take a seat.”

When Farren was seated in a plush armchair across from the large desk, the headmaster regarded her through his half-moon spectacles. Farren shifted beneath his gaze, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She felt as if she was being x-rayed. But while she was being studied, it gave her a chance to study the office and all its instruments.

Nearly everything in the room was a mystery, but Farren had identified a set of self-cleaning scales, a miniature carousel, what appeared to be a very large telescope, and several works of muggle literature before the old man smiled. “Your teachers have been informed of the reason for your absence and you’re exempt from the work they did last week.” Farren sighed in relief. “However, you will be responsible for the material they covered on your end of year exams. I’m sure one of your friends would be willing to help you: Miss Rosier, perhaps?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll ask her.”

“Excellent. Now that that matter is settled, you are more than welcome to go back to your common room. If you leave now, you should have enough time to get settled before the other students return.”

Farren nodded her thanks and turned to leave. When she reached the door, the headmaster spoke again.

“Miss Zabell, do tell the Weasley twins to be careful during their night outings. Something dangerous is roaming the castle, and we wouldn’t want them to get hurt.”

“Yes, sir,” said Farren before she left the office.

As she traversed the castle on the way to the common room, Farren thought about her dad. He appeared to be a complete stranger when they said goodbye: unshaven, hair grayed, shoulders sagging. She wouldn’t have recognized him if she hadn’t been there to witness the aging. David Zabell looked weary: as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, and if he was feeling like she was, he probably hadn’t.

It was almost a relief to go back to school. After they had enrolled her mum in a nursing home, the house was too quiet and the air was heavy with grief. Farren had offered to stay home longer with her dad, but she was grateful that he insisted she go back to Hogwarts.

Now that she was at the castle, her weeks of sleep had caught up with her. Farren was exhausted, but knew how to fix it. Her four-poster would be waiting for her, and sleeping would post-pone her reunion with her friends. She had missed them, but didn’t feel up to answering all of their questions at the moment.

Farren smiled when she reached the familiar painting that opened to reveal the common room, but the smile soon faded.

“Password?”

“I don’t know it. I haven’t been here.”

The Fat Lady shrugged. “You know the rules, dear. You’ll have to wait outside.”

Farren groaned; her plans were ruined. She sank to the ground against the wall and resigned herself to waiting.

It wasn’t long before Farren heard the thunder of trainers on the stone floors. She heaved herself upright just before three people reached the portrait. She smiled when she saw that it was Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“Hello you lot,” she said as they turned the corner.

“Farren! You’re back!” exclaimed Ron while Hermione and Harry smiled.

Farren laughed. “Yeah, but I don’t know the password,” she said, gesturing toward the painting behind her.

“Oh,” said Hermione, “it’s wattlebird.”

The Fat Lady nodded her assent and the door swung open. Farren followed the trio inside as more people came down the hallway. They settled in front of the fireplace as Farren continued up to her room.

She grinned in relief at the sight of her trunk, and her broom, sitting by her bed. She threw her knapsack next to it and collapsed onto the mattress, knowing Carina would find her soon enough.

True to form, it was barely five minutes later when Carina came hurtling into the dormitory. She slowed when she saw Farren sitting on the bed. They sat next to each other in companionable silence for a bit, for which Farren was grateful. When it was almost time for dinner, Carina spoke for the first time.

“Anything you want to talk about?” she asked.

“I spoke to Dumbledore today. He walked me up from Hogsmeade, and I saw his office.”

“Anything interesting?”

“He has a phoenix named Fawkes, and he knows what Fred and George get up to at night. He also told them to be careful.”

“Ah. He knows everything, doesn’t he?”

“It seems that way.”

There was a moment of silence before Carina spoke.

“Farren, I don’t suppose you feel like going down to dinner, do you?”

“No, not particularly. I’m not hungry.”

“Mhmm. I don’t suppose you feel up to “Twenty Questions: Weasley Edition” tonight either?”

“Er, that too.”

“What about Oliver? He’s been asking about you.”

“We’ll catch up tomorrow as well. Did you tell him?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Carina said as she got up. “I’ll bring you up some apple tart. And I’ll tell Fred and George to keep their pants on.” Carina was almost out the door before Farren spoke again.

“Carina?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

“I know.”