Challenged Love

Chapter 7

No, this can't be happening.

I hastened to Dumbledore's office, panic reeling within me. Hearing about the news of my parents escaping was tragic news, but being called the Dumbledore's office because of it proved that this was a vastly serious situation. Everything in me knew this was going to happen. I always knew that my parents were going to escape Azkaban eventually, but I could never have predicted that it was to happen so soon. Bellatrix has escaped, the Normans have done so as well, and now the Rosewoods. I was too ashamed to even call them my parents. My own family – my own blood – was going to be the reason for many peoples' lives being lost. They were going to wretch chaos throughout the Wizarding World, showing no mercy whatsoever. Not only that, but their reputation would reflect on to me. Though I am not the cause of their villainess behavior, I am still related to them nonetheless. How did Azkaban even let five death eaters escape anyway? How poor is their guard on that prison?

I was allowed into Dumbledore's office. I was enduring all sorts of emotions of consternation as I rushed up the winding staircase and into the office. Dumbledore was seated at his desk with a calm composure, already awaiting my arrival. He minded me as I strode inside feeling considerably uneasy.

"Miss Rosewood," he spoke to me.

I abhorred my last name. I did not deem that I deserved to have a last name which associated itself with two of the most notorious followers of You-Know-Who. I deserved to have a last name which belonged to a family with a worthy reputation. One who was well known for their admired deeds, and not one who was famously recognized for all the wrong reasons.

"I'm glad you could make it. Please have a seat."

At his request, I sat across from him in the empty chair in front of me.

"Professor, I have so many questions," I concluded.

"It is quite expected that you do, for I assume you don't know why you are here."

"Only that my parents have escaped Azkaban," I confessed.

"Oh, they did not escape," revealed Dumbledore.

I tilted my head quizzically.

"But that's what Professor Snape told me," I protested.

Dumbledore stood up from his desk, beginning to amble towards a shelf as he spoke.

"Regardless of what Severus might have told you, your parents did not escape necessarily."

Necessarily?

"But your parents are not in Azkaban at the moment either," he added.

"Then where are they now?" I asked, suspicion in my tone.

This was certainly not the news I was expecting to hear. However, now that I think about it, I do recall Professor Snape's words.

Holly, your parents are not in Azkaban anymore.

He never said they escaped, though that was what I thought he was implying. Dumbledore came back to his desk with a piece of parchment paper and a quill in his hands.

He paused before answering my question, considering the risk.

"Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," Dumbledore answered.

The hospital? Why were my parents in the hospital? Were they hurt? Were they to be put in Azkaban after treatment? Why were they even getting treatment anyways? Azkaban was a place of suffering, not healing. They needed to be in the place of suffering. It was the safest option for the Wizarding World if we wanted to continue to thrive as a society.