Mara's Magic

iii - nice chat

"Mara," Albus greeted. I walked into the room, my hand resting on the doorframe awkwardly. 

"Yo," I said, immediately regretting the word once I heard it leave my mouth. He smiled warmly at me and with a single push of his finger, I knew I was welcome in his office; he slid the licorice wands towards me. 

The door shut itself behind me and I took my usual seat, crossing my legs underneath myself as I reached for one of the candies. I noticed that there was an extra tin of sweets sitting next to the lemon drops. 

"Fizzing Whizzbees?" I asked. He nodded.

"Minerva's favorite," he explained simply. 

"One of mine as well," I said. "Thanks for the licorice."

"Of course. You know I only have it here for you, Mara," he replied with a soft smile. 

An uncomfortable silence passed between the two of us as this was the first time we'd spoken since he sent me home last year. So much had been left unsaid, so many explanations not offered. And I intended to get them.

"So, we're related," I said. "You're my great-something uncle?"

He sighed. "Yes."

I waited for a few more moments, but when he didn't say anything else, I continued. "Care to explain?"

"Which part?" He asked. 

"All of it," I replied. He sighed again.

"I don't think I should be the one telling you this, Mara," he told me. 

"Well, who else would? My parents aren't even related to me at all, the closest relative to my father is a mass murderer on the loose, and you are the only living relative of my mother. So, I think you are the only one who should be telling me this," I said. 

"No, Mara," he answered. 

"What do you mean 'no'?" I asked. "You have to tell me."

"Ask your parents, Mara," he said. 

"Why do you keep saying my name?" I asked abruptly. "You've said it like seven times in the last two minutes since I've been here."

The question caught him off guard and his mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. He stared at something over my shoulder as he thought over his response and I spun around, trying to find whatever it was he was looking at. Fawkes flew around the room and landed on a portrait of a family. They all smiled at the photographer. I noticed that it was just a framed moving picture, not a portrait like those of past headmasters who were seemingly alive. This was just a moment captured in time. 

Standing on each side was a parent, the mother on the left and the father on the right. The man had dusty brown hair and hazel eyes, the woman had blonde hair and blue eyes. Standing next to her was a tall teenage boy with auburn hair and his mother's same blue eyes who looked to be about fourteen. Next to the father was a twelve year old boy with unruly blonde hair and matching his mother's blue eyes as well. In between the brothers was a ten year old girl with dark brown hair and again, the same blue eyes. Finishing the portrait was an eight year old girl tucked under the arm of the older sister, the top half of her blonde hair pulled back into a braid and her blue eyes shining as she smiled the widest out of her family. The two girls had matching blue dresses and the boys all wore the same suits and vests. The mother wore a blue and white dress similar to her daughters'. The oldest boy's hand rested on the youngest's shoulder and the other boy seemed to be glancing between his two sisters. The mother's hand was around her son's shoulder and she seemed warm. The father did as well, though he was more hardened than his wife.