Disarranged

I had never been a particularly studious person during my time at Hogwarts. I had some silly notion back then that what I was good at would be the things that would come to me naturally, and the things that did not come naturally were a waste for me to practice in the first place. It was for that reason I was terrible at potions and magnificent at casting spells. Apparently my focus on them earned me the title of a wunderkind of sorts.

I was neither a particularly social being. Luckily I was blessed with the skill of charm, so I had few enemies and many acquaintances. But, I only had the small group of people I considered friends, and fewer of them knew much of what I considered important information about me.

After I graduated I did not seek an occupation. Instead I spent my time raising a rose garden and traveling. My family was from old money and had enough in Gringotts to satiate several generations of Urquarts.

It was during one holiday that I arrived home to find my father, mother, and brother dead. Murdered. Their bodies mangled and bloody, their faces still contorted as if they were screaming.

I believe it was understandable I did not leave the house much after that incident. I moved into our summer home, Adamite Manor, named for its green exterior and for the Urquart family's obsession with stone names. When I wasn't playing the violin or tending to my new rose garden I often found myself on our antique grey sofa, staring out at the grassy fields surrounding the manor. Although I had freed all the House Elves after the passing of my family, DeeDee, the one that had attended to me as a child, remained by my side, often bringing me out of my extended reveries.

Occasionally the socially elite of the wizarding world would drop by. I knew that Voldemort had organized the murder of my family and that I had been spared for a reason. I was now the last of the Urquarts, and despite my Half-blood status I was still valuable. It made sense, if one looked at it logically. Voldemort had to make an example of the blood traitor Urquarts even though we rekindled old ties with the Pureblood elites. Intermarriage was considered a sin. He could not, however, lose another potential ally in his battle. The choice to kill me or my brother was also an obvious one. Women in high society had a more difficult time being single then the men. It wasn't open sexism, per se, but if you had ovaries you had a responsibility to continue the lineage you had been blessed with.

I found it to be all rubbish of course. First of all, I hadn't spent my first ten years in high society. I had spent it in a humble home in Casper, Wyoming. The rules and regulations of Purebloods had not been inculcated at an early age. Second, I had found most of my housemates in Slytherin to be quite pompous and exasperating. They did not leave a good impression, and I was unimpressed Finally, the sting of the violent loss of my family was something that would never subside. It was unforgivable.

But I played my part well. I pretended to be a repentant Pureblood, if not to save my own hide, to get some information out of them. I was better use alive than dead, I reasoned. The Pureblood ladies had even started playing matchmaker, for heaven's sake! Luckily they soon let me be, satisfied enough to identify me as an ally.

It was about the time my new rose garden had began to bloom that the knock came at the door. I remember it clearly as I had been sitting on the sofa, a Darjeeling tea cooling on the side-table. A breeze was making the tall grass outside sway sideways. I turned my head toward the foyer, where DeeDee was greeting the guests.

"The Little Miss is in the day room," DeeDee had answered, using her title for me.

I immediately recognized the figure that stepped over the threshold as my old headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He looked as I remembered him during my time as a student.

"I was wondering when you would visit," I commented as I returned my gaze to the field. I could feel the warmth of his smile.

"If I had known I was expected, I would have come sooner," he answered, taking a seat on a matching chair. I raised a brow, surprised to see a mangy black dog.

"It's not a dog," I observed simply. With that said the dog transformed into a man. A very well known man, actually: Sirius Black. "Oh, you've bought me a convict," I jested.

"Your quirky sense of humor never fails to amuse me," Dumbledore complimented. Well, at least I perceived it as a compliment.

"How do you know we can trust her?" Sirius asked in paranoia, glancing back and forth as if a Death Eater were about to swoop down from my ceilings.

"I assure you, Mister Black, we share at least one common goal," I assured, taking a sip of my tea. "Please, take a seat." He didn't and continued to warily glance at every corner and every shadow.

"Miss Urquart is to be trusted," said Dumbledore, his tone erring on a command.

"Urquart, I recognize that name," Sirius spat. "A bunch of Pureblood crazed fanatics!"

"Well, yes, my gran was," I relented. "But you've been gone a while, or else you would have been there for my family's inhospitable homecoming several years back." Sirius was confused, his face contorted in question.

Dumbledore chose this moment to clarify: "Miss Urquart is a Half-blood. Sadly she experienced the prejudice associated with it along with the sudden loss of her family two years ago." I kept my usual cat-like grin through his explanation, showing no weakness. I noted Dumbledore's use of the euphemism "sudden loss." Anyone living in this day and age understood what it meant.

The explanation Dumbledore provided seemed to soothe Sirius' skepticism because he promptly sat on an ottoman, causing DeeDee to nervously eye the piece of furniture due to his filthy attire. She started muttering, "Oh no, no, that won't do."

It was silent for a few moments before Dumbledore got to business. "Adamite Manor is well protected. Not only has it had the best protective charms casted upon it, but it is also armed with Miss Urquart, one of the most powerful witches I have been lucky to see during my lifetime."

"Oh, you're making me blush," I jokingly said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. I had had enough sorrow and darkness in my life.

"I believe this is the safest place to house you," Dumbledore addressed Sirius.

"It's a prison," Sirius growled. "You'd have me kept here like an invalid!"

"You know very well that is not the case," Dumbledore commented, looking over his spectacles.

"And the amenities here are much better than Azkaban," I quipped. Sirius did not appreciate my wit, however, his wand quickly making an appearance. Before he had a chance to breathe I had disarmed him and had him on the ground, my foot firmly placed on his chest.

"Dumbledore wasn't exaggerating when he said I was talented," I warned. "This is turning into a war, if you hadn't notice, and I'd advise you to keep your head, Mister Black. It's not just about you and your comfort, your actions affect all of us now. My parents and brother might be in their graves, but I will not allow you to lead me to mine." With that said, I lifted my foot and returned to my seat, finishing my Darjeeling tea.

"I forgot to mention that it is unadvisable to cross Miss Urquart," Dumbledore added as Sirius sat up.

"Wonderful, a prison and a guard," grumbled Sirius, finding his wand and returning to the now sooty ottoman.

A moment of silence passed over us once more. The only noises to fill the room were that of our own breaths and the outside breeze. A heavy tension weighed down.

"So, it shall be nice having a roommate," I chirped, my sarcastically cheery tone earning a stern look from my old headmaster.