The Black Queen | F. Weasley

17. The aftermath

Salem came up gasping, reached for the bucket that stood near the pensieve and emptied the contents of her stomach while crying.

She remembered now and never had she longed for her father's embrace more than right in that moment. She wanted to feel safe like she did after going through that horrible event the first time.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder softly, but she flinched away and called out in panic: "Don't touch me!"

Tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around her body and looked up at the person who had touched her shoulder. She understood that the person probably just wanted to comfort her, but right in that moment no one could unless they were called Regulus Black. Her eyes met the warm and concerned gaze of professor Dumbledore who had retracted his hand quickly when she flinched away from him and was now holding his hands folded in front of him where she could see them. 

The girl searched for her bag through teary eyes and found it laying on the table which held a bowl of Sherbet Lemons and some other of professor Dumbledore's trinkets. She quickly snatched her bag off the table and bolted for the door, running away from the room which now would always remind her of the awful memories she would always have to carry with her.

Dumbledore made no move to stop the girl, he wasn't the person who could help her in that moment, but he watched her leave and a feeling of regret and sadness washed over him. Regret for the fact that he wasn't able to comfort her and sadness for the fact that anyone, especially a child, had to go through such a traumatic event. 

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All throughout her life Salem was able to do certain things nobody else was able to do. Alastor Moody had taken notice of this particular trait himself when he had first met her. As she got older the girl was able to control them more and more and even came to learn about new abilities she possessed.

When Albus Dumbledore had first met Salem he had known that there was something different about the girl, but he didn't know what it was yet. But when the day of the meeting came he had known immediately when she replicated Alastor's magical eye. He had done a lot of research ever since, trying to figure out how it was possible for such a little girl to possess powers even the greatest of wizards could only dream of and how he could help her control her abilities. 

They had come across the cause of her powers fairly early on in her life. Remus had found a vial which was filled with a memory which had belonged to Regulus Black himself. Remus had stumbled upon the flask when he was cleaning the house, more specifically Kreacher's den. He didn't know what it entailed and had shown it to Dumbledore. The older wizard had offered for them to review the memory in his office with his pensieve, but they had not anticipated the horrible truth which would be shown to them when they poured the memory into the basin. 

Remus had thrown up and hadn't been the same for a long time after. 

Since he had found the flask in Kreacher's den he had asked the house elf about its origin. The elf had been livid, yelling and snarling at him that he was a filthy mutt and unwelcome in the Black residence. Remus had lost his cool then and there, not because he was getting called names by a house elf who lived in his own grime, but because he needed to know in order to protect the little girl that he considered to be his own daughter. 

He had grabbed the house elf by the collar of his makeshift clothes which consisted out of a disgusting pillowcase and pulled him so close to his face that their noses almost touched. Remus was snarling himself and looked almost as terrifying as he did during the full moon. It intimidated Kreacher greatly and thus, with much reluctance, he told Remus about the origin of the flask.