Chapter 2

Neville, dressed in uncomfortable muggle clothing, strode up the stone steps to the heavy, wooden door. It had an imposing figure that reminded him of the door to the Hogwarts dungeons, which had been the home of the terrifying Severus Snape. He felt the same sense of foreboding danger upon approaching the Burlington Orphanage as he had for every potions lesson of his schooling.

Feeling a pang of pity for the children forced to reside in this miserable, stone building, Neville knocked thrice with the loud, metal doorknocker. The cool metal was twisted into a snarling wolf beneath his gloved hands, and only served to add to the chilling décor of the orphanage.

"Yessir? Are you Mr. Longbottom, sir? The missus has been expecting you," A young maid, looking scarcely sixteen, answered the door with a curtsy and waved the young professor into an equally dismal lobby. "Please wait here, sir, while I fetch Ms. Benson.

Neville waited, alone, for what seemed an hour before a tall, imposing figure appeared at the top of the steps. Striding regally down the stone staircase, she would have closely resembled a Minerva McGonagall in her younger days, save for the cruel smile on her face. This woman was obviously keen, cruel, and cold-hearted. Each harsh line of her features sent a chill down Neville's back he had not felt since his first encounter with Voldemort.

"Mr. Longbottom, I presume? You are a professor?" The smooth voice was quite unlike the soft, cruel tones Neville was expecting. It was, in fact, quite melodic with its Welsh accent.

He nodded politely to her. "Yes, ma'am, I am. I am a professor at a school for special children, called Hogwarts. I wished to speak to you of a certain orphan here, a miss Silena Ashington? She has come to our attention and we wish her to attend our school."

"Has this anything to do with her odd abilities? She believes she can fool me, and I have had the misfortune of never catching her red handed, but I know she is the one behind the thievery." She dropped her accusations easily, as though it was common for children to steal from their benefactors. If McGonagall had not already warned Neville of the near starving condition many of the children were in, he would have been shocked.

"Thievery?" He simply replied, wishing to know more. Perhaps this muggle, for she was clever, could shed some light on what type of magic was manifesting in the little girl.

"Yes, thievery. I have only managed to catch a glimmer here, or the flick of a golden braid there as she runs from the kitchen, but I am certain this girl has been stealing food from the pantry. She is very quick and clever, but unfortunately puts her skills towards poor behavior that often results in punishment. I do hope your school can fix her criminally inclined ways."

"How odd. Well, I should like to speak to her before we leave, to make sure she will accept a place in our school. I will, of course, question her about her habit of thieving. A few trifling details I would like to discuss with you before I speak with the child, though. She will be allowed to stay at the school for the winter and Easter breaks, but during the summer she must return to the orphanage for the duration of the holiday. Of course, there are visits to friends, so she shouldn't be too much trouble on you during those holidays. Which leads me on to the other notice. I have a friend whose daughter will be entering her first year at Hogwarts as well, and they have invited young Silena to stay with them for the remainder of the summer. They will take care of the preparations for school; they will purchase textbooks and other school supplies. All of the costs will be covered on scholarship by the school, and shall be of no worries to you. This family will also take her to the train station when they leave for school. Is all this acceptable to you?"

"Must we compensate for their troubles?"

"Everything will be taken care of. We understand you have other children to watch out for, so we at the school have attempted to ease the burden on your part."

"As long as we don't have to pay, the situation seems fine. As long as Silena is not troubling me any longer, I shall be happy," Ms. Benson remarked carelessly.

Silently attempting to contain his rage, Neville nodded. "Might I meet the girl now? I should like to speak to her."

"Yes, please wait here. She is currently being punished for her latest thievery; let me go collect her." The thin spinster whirled in a flurry of skirts and clicked her way down a flight of stairs. A few minutes later, after a long and tense silence, Neville heard the sharp sound of heels on stone floors and the scuffle of soft shoes, along with a door slam. Up the stairs the two came, Silena being pushed before the mistress.

She was a sight. Her blond hair was unwashed, dirty, and had definitely not been combed in a few days. Her face was smudged in places, and her hands were cracked and dry as if she had been working with hard soap for hours. She was dressed in a brown, coarse dress, misshapen and ill fitting. Neville didn't know how any clothing could fit her small, starved frame. There were bruises on her arms and face, as if she had been beaten. Her blue eyes were downcast and filled with fear.

"Hello, Silena. I am Professor Longbottom. Might I speak to you in private about my school?" He spoke to her as kindly as he could, for although he knew of the danger she could pose, his heart went straight out to the poor child the moment he saw her trudging up the steps.

Ms. Benson stiffened at the mention of a private conversation, and was very obviously not happy with these terms. Silena, however, seemed both relieved and guarded at being left by Ms. Benson.

"Perhaps she could show me her room? Is that a private place to speak?" He directed his next words to the mistress, making it clear she was not invited. She nodded sullenly and pointed up the stairs in an obvious command for the two disappointing human beings to leave her sight, before whirling on them and stalking into her office.

Once she was gone, the little eleven-year-old skipped up the stairs, seeming much more like the elfin child Neville knew her to be. He noted, as he jogged up the stairs behind her, that the tips of her ears were slightly pointed. He had expected her to look a bit like a house elf, but surprisingly, this was not so. Although Professor Mcgonagall had assured him of the differences between house elves and regular elves, having never met a regular elf, he was not sure of what to expect. The effect was surprisingly nice. She had a small, light figure, with sharper features. Her ears were slightly pointed, her eyes were round and wide, and her mouth seemed to turn up just a bit in the corners, giving her a look that made you want to laugh and guard your wallet at the same time. It reminded him of Fred and George Weasley.

At the top of the stairs, she turned back and waited for him to catch up. "I share a room with three other girls," she stated, "but I do know of a place no one will be at the moment." She led him down the hall, towards a tiny closet at the end. Opening it, she revealed a little attic room, housing a small stool, broom, and multiple boxes. "We come in here to play sometimes. We pretend it's a sitting room, and we are magnificent lords and ladies, as rich as can be and arrayed in fine clothing. It's a nice distraction from the reality," she added, a tad melancholy, as if she knew this wasn't the life a normal child should be leading.

As he took a seat on one of the boxes, he folded his hands, looking into her expectant eyes. "What I'm about to tell you can be repeated to no one here, understood?" At her affirming nod, he continued, feeling no fear she would ever turn out to be like the last orphan who had received one of these house calls. "Hogwarts isn't just a school for special children. It's a school of magic…"