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December, 1929
CIRCE STARES AT HOGWARTS.
She's been invited to the castle by Dumbledore, requesting her aid with something. He didn't state what exactly in his letters, so Circe was left to make her own theories, grasping at straws. She never knew much of what Dumbledore planned or wanted.
She enters Hogwarts, accompanied by Theseus.
The Head Auror tails the younger witch as they both pass through the Entrance Hall, eventually making it into the Great Hall, where Circe was instructed to wait. A few students from all four houses sit at their respective tables, rarely finding a student from a different house at the wrong table. They look up at the two adults who entered, the eyes of those who recognise them widening in awe.
A girl from Ravenclaw — which Circe recognises only because of her blue jumper with the petite Ravenclaw emblem embroidered above her breast — approaches Circe with the largest grin the woman has ever seen on a young witch.
"Are you Circe Dalton?" she asks delightedly.
"Yes, I am," Circe replies.
The girl's smile grows even bigger, which by now should be impossible. Still, the girl pulls out her wand and with utter innocence in her eyes, she mumbles a spell under her breath. She conjures a blue rose, handing it over to Circe.
"Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore say that you were the best Transfiguration student at Hogwarts in decades," the girl says admiringly. "We've all heard the stories about you. You're an inspiration."
"Wow, thank you," Circe chuckles. She's impressed with the girl's skill as it is. She just managed to conjure a blue rose out of thin air, when she looks no more than fourteen. Conjuration is usually taught in sixth year and above, meaning the girl must've learnt how to execute the spell all by herself.
