"I think you can trust me with this," Dahlia said as she put her sunglasses on her head, using them to hold her hair back from her face. She was wearing a white skirt, a pink T-shirt, and some sandals. They were standing in front of the fireplace in the manor's library, a place that had become both a sanctuary and a museum to her over the past three weeks.
The manor's library was an awe-inspiring room, filled with towering bookshelves that stretched up to a vaulted ceiling painted with elaborate frescoes. Rich, mahogany furniture filled the space, and large, arched windows allowed sunlight to stream in, casting a warm glow over the countless leather-bound volumes and ornate tapestries. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and polished wood, a testament to the history and knowledge contained within.
Walking through the manor halls felt like taking a stroll through history. There were rooms for every conceivable activity and countless hidden nooks waiting to be discovered. As Dahlia explored, she felt a deep connection to her ancestors, understanding their lives and challenges more intimately. The house elves, who had been with the family for generations, provided her with everything she needed: food, clothes, books, and information. She had named the older female elf 'Polly' and the younger male elf, Dolly's son, 'Toby'. Polly was full of knowledge and guidance, while Toby, eager and energetic, always had a mischievous glint in his eye.
However, the elves also insisted on things Dahlia found less appealing, like etiquette lessons and trips to the French Ministry to handle official matters. She managed to avoid these by claiming her father or grandfather would be more competent. True to her words, she was about to bring them 'home' for the first time.
"Mother won't be happy, but she never is since she learned all about this magical side of my father's family. I learned to cope with her over the past two years. Dad will be thrilled, and the boys will be clueless. I have some explanations to make, so it may take longer than an hour. As we talked, when I return with my parents, you'll be free to go enjoy your own summer break. I'm so grateful that you stayed and helped me, professor."
"Of course, you don't exactly have a magical guardian yet, so it is my duty. Besides, it has been enlightening to learn about your family history," Madame LaRue said, taking hold of the pot that held floo powder. "You can always come to me for help. Now, jump in the fireplace. Don't forget, loud and clear. Do you have your wand with you? If you get lost, it's probably going to be in England, and all you need to do is point your wand upwards, and the Knight Bus will find you."
"We have gone over these millions of times, Madame LaRue. I'll be fine."
As Dahlia stepped into the fireplace, she took a deep breath, clutching her wand tightly in one hand and holding onto the pot of floo powder in the other. She'd have to take the pot with her home as her parents didn't have any. She was thrilled to get the letter from her father a few days ago saying that the wizards came and charmed their fireplace for the floo network. She barely kept her excitement to this day. Madame LaRue nodded reassuringly as Dahlia threw the floo powder into the flames, causing them to flare up green. Taking a step forward, she called out firmly, "Privet Drive number 4, Little Whinging!"
Instantly, the flames engulfed her, spinning and twisting as she was whisked away through the Floo Network. The sensation was disorienting, her senses overwhelmed by the rush of heat and swirling green light. She closed her eyes tightly, focusing on the destination she had spoken aloud.
Moments later, Dahlia stumbled out of the fireplace at her home in Privet Drive. She coughed lightly, shaking off the remnants of soot that clung to her clothes. At this point in her life, she couldn't tell which way of wizard transportation was worse keys or floo network. She knew pegasuses were her favorite though. Looking around, she found herself in the familiar, clean living room of her parents' house.
YOU ARE READING
Till the Last Petal Falls / Marcus Flint
Ficción GeneralWhen the troll met the princess in a Diagon Alley shop. Marcus Flint was convinced no one would ever want him after spending his years in Hogwarts despite being an Heir to House Flint, he was nothing more than a troll to them. Dahlia Dursley was k...