Stranger

Chapter 12 - Brakedown

"I'm not some ten-year-old kid anymore!"

Violet made her way to the third floor anxiously burying her thumb in her palm.

Her mind flooded with thoughts but only one stood out - the chance to finally speak to Dumbledore. Maybe she should've been more concerned about getting expelled but that was the furthest thought in her head.

Walking down the gargoyle corridor she noticed him standing right by the entrance to his office. Violet stopped in her tracks for a second and took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever's to come.

"Violet." Dumbledore firmly spoke out while his eyes were still softened. It seemed as if he was rather concerned than angry about what happened.
"I can-"
Before she could finish the sentence he raised his hand in a gesture that made her follow Dumbledore up the circled stairs.

As Violet entered the room, a wave of familiarity washed over her, pulling her back to the very first time she'd ever learned about magic. There was something strangely nostalgic about it, the flicker of candlelight and the musty scent of ancient books, but beneath the surface, a knot of discomfort tightened in her chest.

It was a reminder of a time when magic had felt more like a burden than a gift, when the world had shifted beneath her feet, changing everything she thought she knew. That first introduction to her power had come with the sharp sting of bitterness.

Dumbledore's sharp eyes softened as he noticed Violet's rigid stance. The silence between them lingered just long enough for her discomfort to become evident.

"I trust the books have been of use?" Dumbledore's voice broke through the tension, a gentle reminder of the many texts he had sent her over the years. Those same books that she had pored over relentlessly, searching for answers, for purpose, for anything to make sense of her unique place in the magical world.

Violet's eyes flickered up from the floor, surprised by the shift in conversation. The unease loosened its grip just a little. "Yes. Thank you," she replied, her voice low but steady. The books had been her only companions during those long years away from Hogwarts, filled with knowledge that went beyond what the usual curriculum covered.

Dumbledore nodded, a subtle expression of relief crossing his face. He had always known more than he let on. Perhaps, even back then, he had anticipated that Violet might not return to Hogwarts after her first year, which was why some of the books he'd sent her were different—more advanced, more obscure, almost as though he'd prepared her for something beyond the typical magical education.

"And I suppose," he continued, stepping around his desk, his gaze momentarily avoiding hers, "you wish to know why you're here."

"I know why I'm here," Violet snapped, her voice harsher than intended. She was still reeling from what had happened earlier—still unwilling to fully accept that she had cast the curse. Her words were defensive, but the tension in her voice betrayed the turmoil beneath the surface.

Dumbledore simply watched her, his calm patience urging her to continue.

"Alastor was threatening a student. Most of the class was either too terrified or too shocked to speak," Violet said, her voice breaking slightly as she tried to explain. "I couldn't let it continue. I didn't know he would ask me to perform such a spell myself—"

But she stopped abruptly, the memory of Ron's words rushing back to her, sharp and accusing.

 We always have a choice.