The Dark Heir ∣ HP FanFic

three

Olivia woke up groggily in a bed that wasn't hers, in a room she didn't recognise, and very much confused.

She looked around the room, and saw through the window that it was still night, apparent by darkness outside. The only way she could decipher that it wasn't a different night than the one in which she fell asleep in, was how the moon was still as bright and full as it had been before.

Next to the window was a very cluttered windowsill. It had books that Olivia didn't recognise. On the spines, however, they all shared a common word: Quidditch. Olivia knew what quidditch was - she had overheard some very enthusiastic Death Eaters discuss it, and Olivia deduced that it was some wizarding sport, although she had never seen it be played, or heard the rules.

Lying on the floor were two trunks, chucked haphazardly in random positions on the floor. The rest of the room was scattered with socks and boxes. Across the room, on the wall completely opposite the bed that Olivia was lying in, stood two chairs - both of them occupied.

One held the boy that had woken her up last night. His hair stood out in all directions, his green eyes set on his wand that was in his lap, and a small, lightning shaped scar sat on his forehead.

Next to the boy was a tall and oddly calm old man. Olivia recognized him at once as Albus Dumbledore, the very man she had been reading about last night, and the very man she had been taught to kill on sight.

Natural instinct that wasn't natural at all - rather an instinct that had been drilled into her the day she began to understand words - drove her to reach for her wand, but to no avail. She could not find her wand, and now she began to squirm in her bed, trying to get up, to steal the boy's wand and use it against him and Dumbledore. But instead, an invisible wall kept her lying in the bed, still squirming, until she finally gave up and lied still, breathing shallow breaths.

The boy was now standing up, his wand poised tentatively. Dumbledore sat quite still, observing Olivia curiously through his half-moon spectacles, and slowly stood up once he saw Olivia had stopped thrashing about.

"Hello," he said calmly, a small, friendly smile creeping into his face. " My name is Albus Dumbledore, and my friend over here," he gestured to the boy, "is called Harry Potter. I daresay you know either of us?" He looked down at Olivia past his crooked nose. Olivia silently stared at his magnificently blue eyes.

"And I  kindly ask that you could tell us your name?" He asks, unfazed that she did not answer. She stayed silent again, not daring to look away from him.

"I'm sorry, dear girl, but your name and more is crucial information that I need from you. If you would be so kind as to-"

"She won't say anything, Professor." Harry said, Olivia's gaze shifting from Dumbledore to the boy. "The only word I hear her say is a name. Maria," At the mention of her name, Olivia looked quickly to the ground.

"If this is the case, my dear, then I will have no choice to look into your mind. I can't express enough how valuable this information is." Dumbledore said calmly, not bothered that Harry had interrupted him. After a couple of minutes of silence, Dumbledore slowly pulled out his wand.

"Leglimens," He said quietly, as if giving a warning as to what was to come.

But Olivia already knew.

This spell had been performed on her many times before.

In her mind, she felt his intrusion. As if the calm old man himself was ripping through her brain, tearing open her skull. No matter how many times she had practised Occlumency, it never failed to pain her.

She then saw Dumbledore, in a black, vast room, walking towards her. Olivia ran towards him, bringing her hands up, ready to strangle him. She did just that, as soon as she got to him, and looked into his eyes as she toppled him to the ground. She wrapped her hands around his throat, harder, squeezing as though her life depended on it. It did not, of course - but her memories did.