Author's Notes:

Hey, everyone, thanks for staying with me so far :-) Just a few things to say before you read the chapter.

First, I wanted to highlight a little of Dumbledore's boldness and suspicions of Linnea. Just like in canon, he kept an eye on Riddle when he was a student. Despite knowing that he was up to no good, however, he didn't really do anything, employing his "smile and hope for the best" attitude. He views the rise of Voldemort as totally his own fault as he thinks that he could have done something to prevent it. He is therefore determined not to repeat his mistake with Linnea, who he sees as another potential danger.

Second, I changed the protection that Linnea got from her mother in that it was only active for a moment and was expended when it reflected the Killing Curse back at Voldemort. The change isn't just for kicks but serves a purpose later on, I assure you :-)

Okay, that's it, on with the chapter. I really hope you like it :-)

'There it is,' Mr Lupin whispered, his voice hitching slightly.

Linnea stared at the old cottage that had once been her home. Most of it was still standing, except for the right side of the top floor, which appeared to have been violently blown apart by some sort of explosion; Linnea supposed that that was where Voldemort's Killing Curse had backfired. She reluctantly felt a little awe for the former Dark Lord; his curse must have been very powerful to cause such destruction to his surroundings. She found herself wondering just how she had survived the blast.

'It's held up very well considering how old it is,' Mr Lupin said with a sad nod. 'I heard that the wizards living in Godric's Hollow put some preservation charms on it in honor to your family.'

Linnea felt a smile form on her face and once again thanked the thoughtful witches and wizards. She stared at the cottage for a long time before she made up her mind and stretched her left arm out to grasp the iron gate.

'I want to see the inside,' she said firmly. 'I'd like to go alone if that's all right, Mr Lupin.'

Mr Lupin nodded solemnly and stepped back. Linnea swung the gate open and after taking a deep breath, began to walk towards the cottage. She hadn't gotten very far before an old sign popped up out of the ground in front of her. Alarmed, she raised her wand, her eyes wide, fearful that she was about to be attacked. When nothing happened, she looked more closely at the sign and saw golden letters etched into the wood.

Linnea Potter,

We left this sign for you in the hope that you would one day return to Godric's Hollow and see your old home. We cannot express our sorrow for how your family has been torn apart, Linnea, nor can we express our joy at what you have done for the Wizarding world. We will forever be in your debt and wish you every success that life has to offer. As for the cottage, it has many preservation charms set upon it so that it may stand as a monument to your family - and to have it ready for you as well. It belongs to you now, and we hope that it will serve as a modest gift from the Wizarding community. Good luck, Linnea.

All around the sign's message were scribbles from other witches and wizards who had come to see the site of Lord Voldemort's defeat. Many of them were also messages for her, primarily well-wishes. Linnea found herself smiling again as she read the sign over once more before she proceeded towards the cottage.

The front door was hanging open. Linnea slipped past it and was at once assaulted by an eerie cold that seemed to chill even her blood. She shivered, suddenly cursing not having a coat, and wondered if the cold was a side effect of whatever charms the Wizarding residents of Godric's Hollow had put on the cottage, or if she was feeling the remnants of something left behind by the murder of her parents. She looked around while rubbing her arms in an attempt to get them warm; she was standing in a hallway not unlike that of the Dursleys' house, though it was noticeably longer and wider. She spotted a coat hanger behind the door and promptly took down an emerald green jacket and put it on. She felt much warmer even as she realized that the jacket must have belonged to her mother, seeing as it enveloped her being like a blanket. She let the hot tears flow out of her eyes once again but took deep breaths to quell the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. She stood there, arms wrapped tightly around her for a long time, composing herself as best as she could before she sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her left sleeve. She looked around again and saw three doors and a staircase.

She proceeded first to the door on her right, which turned out to be a cupboard. It was a little cramped with a few more coats, an umbrella, two broomsticks and other assorted objects. She noted that one of the brooms was very small, and deduced that it had been hers when she was still a baby - a training broom. She smiled as she imagined herself zooming through the air alongside her father; the thought made her laugh and she felt a mite happier. She closed the cupboard door and proceeded to the door on her left, which was further down the hallway.

It opened into a plain but cozy-looking living room, which looked every bit as Muggle as Number Four. Linnea realized that her mother must have decided a lot about the contents of the cottage what with her being Muggleborn. There was even an old television that stood in the corner, set before a collection of comfortable looking armchairs and a single sofa. There was a fireplace not far from the squishy furniture, and she was sure that the warmth of a fire lit there would permeate the room very well. She noted another door that led off the living room and walked purposefully towards it. She looked around with a final sweeping glance before she opened the door and stepped through.

She now stood in an ordinary-looking kitchen; a casual look around showed her another door, which she supposed led back to the entrance hall. Another door housed a small pantry. There was an oven standing opposite a pair of silver-colored sinks, as well as several shelves and drawers laden with every kind of cutlery and cookery she could think of. She spotted a healthy collection of cookbooks on a counter and surmised that her mother must have loved cooking as well. She flipped through some of them and saw that Lily seemed to have wanted to learn how to make foreign dishes; there were Italian, Spanish, Chinese and even Japanese volumes present, as well as recipes for confections. A chocolate cookbook caught her eye and she took it in her left hand, sure that Lily wouldn't mind her using it.

She went back to the entrance hall and slowly climbed the staircase, her hand lightly gliding along the railing. She came onto a landing and looking left could see two doors along the hall; she could spot one more on the right, and at the end of the hallway were a pile of splinters that lay before another doorway. She instantly knew that that was where Voldemort had tried to kill her - that was where her mother had died. She felt her heart jump up to her throat and gave a forceful gulp to settle her nerves. Ignoring all else, she crept towards the mangled door, her ears straining to pick up the faintest noise; she didn't know why, but she felt as though she should be cautious. She slowly came up to the doorway and after taking a deep breath, walked in.

It looked to be a nursery like any other, except that instead of seeing a roof when she looked up, she could see the cloudless summer sky. Much of the room was a shambled ruin, and she couldn't make much out apart from half of a crib in the corner. The sight of it once again made her wonder how she had survived; her mother's protection accounted for Voldemort's curse, but not for the explosion. Linnea walked lightly forward and looked out of the now missing wall. She could see Mr Lupin waiting for her at the gate. He waved at her. She waved back and then turned around to survey the nursery once more. There was nothing here - nothing that would give her any details as to the events of that night. But she felt better having seen her old home, and knowing that it was indeed still hers. She once again thanked whoever had cast the preservation charms on the house and made her way back out.

'Are you all right, Linnea?' Mr Lupin asked, concern heavy upon his face.

'Yes,' Linnea answered with a small smile as she took her mother's jacket off and shut the gate behind her, 'I'm okay. I needed to see it myself, you know?'

'I do,' said Mr Lupin with a nod. 'It belongs to you now - what will you do with it?'

'I'll have it repaired. I think it's only right that our home stays standing - they did succeed in protecting me, after all.'

Mr Lupin smiled at her and then looked back up at the cottage, sadness filling every line upon his face. Linnea stared at him for a long time before she took his wand out and handed it back to him.

'I think I'm comfortable enough around you now, Mr Lupin,' she explained to the surprised man. They gazed at each other for a while before she said, 'Thank you for showing me where the cottage is - it means a lot to me.'

'It was the least I could do, Linnea,' Mr Lupin said. 'I haven't been as…present in your life as I should have been, but I would like the opportunity to spend time with you and get to know you.'

'I think I would like that as well.'

'I can see both Lily and James in you,' Mr Lupin said with another smile as they aimlessly began to walk. 'Your eyes are exactly like Lily's in shape - though the color comes from James' mother - but your hair is much deeper than hers was, and just as messy as James'.'

'Yes, I'm planning to have a word with him about that one day,' Linnea said, laughing. 'Mr Lupin, I don't know if you can, but I was wondering if you could tell me about the preservation charms on the house; when I went in there everything seemed to be intact, including this jacket - I believe it was my mother's.' Mr Lupin nodded, his expression telling her that he had already known this but hadn't been comfortable about asking. 'Well, I've never heard of charms that could last for ten years. Could you tell me how they work?'

'There are advanced charms known collectively as enchantments, which are usually put on inanimate objects; basically, they can work for much longer than ordinary charms, though they usually do wear out over time as well. To prevent an enchantment from running out, runes are used, which you'll start to study in third year if you want. You can embed your spell in the runes you're using - though they have to be the correct ones as far as your spell is concerned - but it isn't very easy; fueling runic magic takes a lot of magical power and skill, which is why only a small number of people are able to do it.'

Linnea nodded thoughtfully at Mr Lupin's explanation; it certainly answered a few questions she had asked herself. She had often wondered why, for example, parents couldn't just Conjure their children a new trunk when it was their time to go to Hogwarts, instead of buying one from Diagon Alley or some other place. She now understood that the tenants on the Wizarding shopping street had the power, knowledge, skill and resources to produce the best results in their wares, which ordinary wizards would be hard-pressed to match. She asked, 'What sorts of things can you do with these enchantments?'

'Almost anything; the beauty of enchantments is that you can add in effects from other magical disciplines as well, like Transfiguration and Potions. Enchantments are the pinnacle of Charms - I wouldn't advise you to try it, though,' Mr Lupin added; he smiled when he saw Linnea frown. 'Unless you've already started studying NEWT-level Charms - which I doubt since you just finished first year - you'll only end up exhausting yourself without having any actual results.' Linnea huffed, which only got Mr Lupin's smile to widen. 'If you're interested in that area, though, I'd recommend you take Ancient Runes in third year.'

Linnea nodded again, thoughts criss-crossing each other in her head. 'You said I could choose to do Ancient Runes. Are there other choices?'

'Yes, there are: Divination, Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy,' answered Mr Lupin.

'What's Divination?' Linnea asked, assuming that Arithmancy was some kind of magical mathematics.

'It's a study where you attempt to foretell the future.'

'Wizards can see the future?' Linnea was shocked; she was well aware that magic was capable of incredible things, but she would never have guessed that enabling someone to get a glimpse of the future was one of them.

'Yes and no,' Mr Lupin answered with a wan smile. 'My knowledge is limited seeing as I didn't take it when I attended Hogwarts, but from what I understand the future you might see when practising Divination is just a possibility - it is quite likely that something entirely different could happen.'

'That sounds very iffy to me,' Linnea said with a frown.

'Yes, that's why a lot of people don't take a long-term interest in Divination. However, from what I hear, those who master the art are able to use certain methods to verify the amount of certainty of what they have seen coming to pass.'

'Oh. Well then that's incredible magic!'

'Yes, it is,' Mr Lupin agreed. 'But most don't see it that way, especially Professor McGonagall; even when I was at Hogwarts she was very vocal about how she didn't think much of Divination. She cannot, however, deny the knowledge of the centaurs or the existence of Seers.'

Linnea stared. She had read that there were centaurs living in the Forbidden Forest, though she had no idea that they would be privy to such a technique as telling the future. She had never heard of a Seer, though. Seeing the look on her face, Mr Lupin said, 'Seers are witches and wizards to whom Divination comes naturally; they're able to make prophesies without even taking a single lesson in the art. The less experienced they are though, the less they can control their Sight.'

Linnea went back to staring. The Wizarding world truly was full of wonders.

'I hope I haven't scared you too much,' Mr Lupin said with a hearty chuckle.

'It's just that every time I hear about another branch or application of magic, I keep thinking that it possibly couldn't get better than that, and now here you are telling me that there are people who can actually see the future - and that ordinary witches and wizards can too if they study hard enough.' Linnea shook her head, astounded.

'Is it safe to say that you'll be taking Divination and Ancient Runes in third year?'

'I don't know,' Linnea said slowly, 'I think I'd rather find out what's going to happen the old-fashioned way, you know? That's part of the fun in doing things, isn't it - not knowing exactly what will happen as a result?'

Mr Lupin laughed at that so hard that Linnea wondered if he had just lost his mind. 'You're a lot like James, Linnea; he liked finding out the consequences of his actions after he had performed them too,' he explained.

'Hey, I think of the consequences…a little,' Linnea joked with a smile. 'I've found that when you think too much about doing something, you'll never actually get to doing it.'

Mr Lupin nodded in agreement and looked at her with a fond smile gracing his face; she smiled back at him and they stared at each other for a while before Linnea hesitantly said, 'Er, I think I'd better be heading home, sir.'

'Yes, I think that's all right.' He seemed to think for a while before he asked, 'Number Four, Privet Drive, was it?'

'Yes, exactly,' Linnea confirmed, beaming. 'You should come visit sometime.'

'I doubt your aunt and uncle would like that - as I remember, Petunia isn't too fond of the Wizarding world.'

'No, she isn't - which is why it would make my day to see her face when a wizard comes to visit me.'

They chortled at that for a while before Mr Lupin, looking very uncomfortable said, 'Well, I will try to visit on occasion if you want, but do you think I could maybe write to you, Linnea?'

'Of course, sir,' said Linnea at once. 'And please, call me Lin.'

'In that case, call me Remus.'

The smiled at each other even as Linnea raised her wand arm and the Knight Bus appeared with another bang, skidding to a stop beside them. As she climbed onto the bus, Linnea looked back and chirped, 'Thank you for spending the day with me, Mr - I mean, Remus; I had a wonderful time talking with you.'

'The pleasure was mine, Lin,' Remus said with a bright and genuine smile. 'I hope we'll see each other soon.'

Linnea beamed at the thought and jumped fully onto the Knight Bus and took the closest available seat. A few seconds later, the purple double-decker was moving and with another bang had teleported somewhere else.

'Who was that?' Stan asked, eying Linnea with interest.

'An old friend of my parents,' answered Linnea happily. 'I met him at Godric's Hollow when I was visiting them.'

'It looks like the visit did you a lot of good - you look a lot happier than I've ever seen you.'

'It did - and I am.'

When Linnea went through the front door of Number Four, it was to find Dudley in the entrance hall heading towards the kitchen; when he saw her, his blue eyes went wide and he hastily went on with his journey. Linnea quirked an eyebrow in confusion, wondering when they had gone from awkwardness and regressed back into one of them being in constant fear. She shrugged, sure that she would solve the mystery later, and climbed the staircase to go to her bedroom.

She was both surprised and more than a little miffed to find someone already there; when she realized who the intruder was, however, her surprise won out.

'Good evening, Linnea,' Professor Dumbledore said as he got to his feet with his signature grandfatherly smile set in place.

'Good evening, Headmaster,' said Linnea, shutting the door behind her. 'What are you doing here?' At that moment, Abell gave a loud meow, as though she too were wondering the same thing.

'I'm here to talk about the letter you sent me.'

'A reply letter would have been fine.'

'I thought it best to come in person due to the nature of your queries,' the old wizard insisted. Linnea stared at him for a long time before she motioned for him to resume his seat, while she crossed the room and sat on the chair at her desk. She stared at Professor Dumbledore with slightly raised eyebrows, expecting and determined to get answers.

'You seem to have been out most of the day. May I ask where you were?' he asked.

'Godric's Hollow, Professor - I went to visit my parents,' Linnea answered without hesitation. Thinking that she may as well get started on her inquisition, she added, 'I met Remus Lupin there, I think you know him.'

Linnea could tell that the old wizard was struggling to keep the calm expression on his face - the twinkle in his eyes had certainly gone out - though she didn't know what he might be thinking or feeling. She waited, wondering what he would say.

'Did you? That's good news; he was a very close friend of your parents', as I'm sure he told you,' Professor Dumbledore said with another small smile.

'Yes, he did. He also told me that you told him to stay away from me for the past ten years. Could you explain that to me, sir? In fact, I'd also like you to explain how and why you made me come live with the Dursleys if you'd be so kind.'

Professor Dumbledore was not at all surprised by how quickly she cut to the chase, but he marveled at how she was able to still be so polite despite the fact that she was demanding answers.

'The answer to both questions would be that it was for your safety,' he answered. On seeing Linnea's expectant look, he continued, saying, 'When Lord Voldemort disappeared the night he attacked you, there were a lot of reactions in the Wizarding world; most of the community was overjoyed, but many of the Dark Lord's followers were enraged. Some tried to find him, or became even more deranged and violent; many of them were killed in battle against the Aurors, prefering to die in service to their master than be taken to Azkaban. Others, I was sure, would seek vengeance upon the one responsible for the fall of the Dark Lord - you. I brought you here to your last remaining family to protect you from them.'

'Professor…you thought placing me with Muggles would be safe for me?' Linnea asked incredulously. 'Say a Death Eater discovered that I was here - just what did you think anyone in this house would have been able to do to stop them from killing me?'

'I did not leave you just under your aunt and uncle's care, Linnea. I performed a series of spells to create wards to protect you, based on the sacrifice that your mother made so that you may live.'

'And you couldn't have done that anywhere else, sir?'

'The magic is based upon your and Lily's blood, which only your aunt, Petunia, has,' Professor Dumbledore explained.

Linnea thought about this for a moment before she said accusingly, 'I remember you saying that my mother dying for me gave me momentary protection - the keyword being momentary. If that's true, sir, then how did you know that your protections would last as long as they would be needed to?'

'I have quite the knowledge in the magical arts, Linnea, even the more obscure of topics.'

'Were you sure that you would succeed, or were you just hoping?' asked Linnea.

'As I said, my knowledge -'

'Sir, I'm sorry, but that doesn't answer my question,' Linnea interrupted, shaking her head.

Professor Dumbledore stared silently at her for a while and Linnea sighed, shaking her head. It seemed that the Headmaster had taken quite a chance.

'If you weren't sure then, are you sure now, Professor?'

Professor Dumbledore knew that he needed to lie if he wanted to steer Linnea in the direction that he wanted as he was sure that the girl would not accept a vague response. The words were on his lips when he caught her grey eyes staring into his own blue ones. He remembered how perceptive she was when talking to people, him included, and in that instant was thoroughly convinced that she would somehow be able to detect any falsehood on his part. He could not risk alienating her any further. He sighed, but otherwise kept silent, chagrined that he had to be so careful in his dealings with an eleven-year-old girl.

'If you weren't completely sure of your spells working, then why did you really bring me here, Professor?' she asked, surprisingly calm.

Professor Dumbledore knew that he could not answer that question - at least not fully. Picking his words carefully, he said, 'I was confident that the followers of the Dark Lord would not be able to find you here, Linnea. I am sure you have guessed, but many of them were purebloods, and as such virtually all of them had very little experience with the Muggle world. They would be very hard-pressed to find you here. I was also aware that only a handful of people knew where your relatives lived. I, of course, am one of them, as are Remus Lupin and Hagrid. Only two others know, and I doubt that they would be willing to divulge the information to anyone. Many Wizarding families would have been honored to take you in, but it was highly unlikely that your stay at any of them would have remained secret for long.'

Linnea nodded, taking Professor Dumbledore's words in. If the goal had indeed been to keep her place of residence a secret, she could see why he had chosen for her to be brought up in the Muggle world. The Dursleys were her only remaining Muggle relatives, and so he had taken her to them. She could not fault his logic - but there were a few things she could fault him with.

'I understand that you were acting in the interests of my safety, sir,' she said, 'but may I ask if you're aware of how I've been treated in this house all the time I've been here?' When she saw Professor Dumbledore frown in supposed incomprehension, Linnea felt a bite of anger. 'So you left me here all this time and didn't bother to check if I was being treated well?'

'Linnea, the Dursleys are your family; I was certain that they would care for you as one of their own, having asked your aunt to do just that.'

'Is that so? Well, they did an amazing job,' said Linnea, sarcasm heavy in her voice. 'I felt quite loved and safe being called ugly and a freak all my life, doing every conceivable chore for as long as I can remember, wearing rags for clothes, not being fed properly, being laughed at and made fun of every day, having no friends, being hated by everyone I met, sleeping in a cup -' She stopped, her mouth hanging open in shock. Professor Dumbledore was staring at her, eyebrows raised due to her outburst, but she didn't care. She had just remembered something. 'You knew, didn't you?'

'Knew what?' he asked, another frown adorning his face.

'My Hogwarts letter had "the cupboard under the stairs" on the address, and that's where I used to sleep - so you had to have known at least that much.' Professor Dumbledore was silent, which only made Linnea grow more incensed. 'You knew they kept me in a cupboard and you still didn't think to check up on me?' she demanded.

'I only came to know of it when it was time to address your acceptance letter, Linnea,' Professor Dumbledore said swiftly, his brain working hard to try and figure out a way to salvage the situation. 'And I thought that perhaps it may have been the only available space left for you.'

'Really? Well, as you can see, there was somewhere else I could have stayed; they let me move into this bedroom after I got my Hogwarts letter, only because they're scared of magic. How kind of them, don't you think, sir?'

Professor Dumbledore could see that he was quickly losing control of the conversation; he needed to turn it around, and fast. He saw an opportunity in what Linnea had just said.

'Can you blame them for being scared, Linnea?' he asked gravely. 'They know how powerless they are in the face of magic - and you seem to have used that knowledge to have them live in fear of you.'

'Yes, I have,' Linnea confirmed, unabashed. 'My stay here over the past ten years has been anything but pleasant. If them being afraid of me is what it takes for me to be happy, then so be it.'

Professor Dumbledore stared at her for a long time with the same disappointed look he had worn in their meeting at the end of the school year. 'Do you not feel even a little for them? They are your family, after all.'

'I've given Dudley another chance because he apologized to me; I know that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will never do that. They can go hang themselves for all I care.'

Professor Dumbledore gazed at her with worry and said sadly, 'I must say that I am disappointed in you, Linnea.'

Linnea shrugged. 'I don't mean to be rude, sir, but it makes no difference to me. It seems that I'll wait quite a while before I get happiness from a family; pardon the language, but I'll be damned if I'll be miserable until that day comes. I want to be happy from now on, and I'll make sure that I'm as happy as I can be.'

'Is that why you spent so much money on yourself?' Professor Dumbledore asked, peering at the girl closely. 'From what I heard, you must have spent around a thousand Galleons if not more.'

'I wanted to splurge,' Linnea said with another shrug. 'I've never had money or nice things before, so I thought that now that I have the former, why not get the latter?'

'There are things far more important than money and material possessions, Linnea.'

'Yes, there are,' agreed Linnea, 'like self-esteem - which I find myself suddenly full of since my shopping spree. Can you even imagine what it felt like to be dressed in clothes each worth half a pound while every other girl my age had the best that they could get and were showered with compliments and praise about how lovely they looked? I'll tell you, Professor: it sucked. Everyone thought they were better than me - and sometimes, I agreed with them. The only thing I felt good about was that I was smarter than a lot of them, at least where class was concerned. But that was as far as it went; no one wanted to play with me, no one was nice to me, I couldn't even go swimming or dancing or anything else that I wanted to do.'

Linnea took in a deep breath, having said this very quickly, then continued, 'But then I discovered that I was a witch - I can do magic; I'm special, not worthless like I've been told all my life. And then it turns out that I'm famous. The reason for it is terrible, but it was a nice change for me - going from no one knowing or caring about you to almost everyone being interested and actually nice to you. I made friends, which I've never done before, and I became popular, which I hadn't even been able to dream about before Hogwarts. I'm happy now, and I want to continue being happy. So yes, when I got some money, I spent it.'

She took another breath and glared at Professor Dumbledore, daring him to say anything more against her actions. He remained silent, however, still staring gravely at her, uneasiness creeping behind his eyes. After a long time he asked, 'And what will you do if the money in your vault runs out?'

'I've already done the math, Professor, and I'm certain that I'll still have at least one hundred thousand Galleons in my vault alone by the time I finish at Hogwarts - and that's the lowest estimate,' answered Linnea. 'It's also come to my attention that there are other vaults waiting for me, though I'll only know about them when I turn sixteen. I won't run out of money.'

They stared silently at each other for a long time. Abell meowed, jumped onto Linnea's lap and settled down, purring in delight when she absently began to pet her.

'I see…I certainly cannot fault you for trying to find happiness, Linnea,' Professor Dumbledore said after a long sigh, 'but I feel that I must ask you to stop keeping your family in the grip of fear.'

'I said this before: you should have told them that years ago,' Linnea said flatly. 'I lived in misery for ten years and no one ever helped me - they get a little scared for a month and you're defending them after all they did to me? I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not at all inclined to indulge your request. They've thankfully been leaving me alone - which means that I will leave them alone as well. A fair arrangement, I think.'

'But you have been lying to them, Linnea; you know that you cannot use magic outside of school.'

'I don't have to; I'm sure you know how well I've been doing in Potions, sir.'

Professor Dumbledore frowned heavily at her, shaking his head. 'Linnea, I do not think that I am at all pleased by your actions.'

'Nor am I pleased by yours, sir,' Linnea countered, her eyes narrowing. 'You may have been acting in what you thought were my best interests, Professor, but just what gave you the right? You aren't my guardian, of that I'm fairly sure; since you seem so interested in my thoughts and actions, I'm certain I would have grown up under your supervision if that were the case. So why did you take it upon yourself to arrange my future, Professor? Why are you so keen to know all about me? Why are you constantly popping up in my life?'

'I told you, Linnea, I brought you here to the Dursleys to protect you,' said Professor Dumbledore.

'Professor, you yourself admitted that you weren't sure if the protections you wished to put in place would actually work,' Linnea said shortly, waving a hand in dismissal of the Headmaster's words, 'which leads me to believe that there is another reason you put me here - and somehow I don't think you'd tell me even if I twisted your arm. That's fine, but I want you to answer me this: what is your interest in me, Professor?'

'I'm afraid I cannot tell you that, Linnea.'

Silence reigned between them once more, during which Linnea sighed and closed her eyes. She was getting tired of dealing with the old wizard. She now felt, more than ever, that she did not like people, particularly grown-ups, poking into her more personal affairs - not when she hadn't invited them, at any rate. But here was Professor Dumbledore, poking away, and he did not even want to tell her why.

She opened her eyes. 'I suppose that's fine - I cannot force you to divulge, after all. But with all due respect, Professor, you cannot force me to live the way you seem to think is best for me. My days of simply bowing to the whims of others are far behind me, I assure you.'

'Then it would seem that our discussion is over, Linnea,' Professor Dumbledore said gravely, getting to his feet.

'I have one more query, actually, Professor,' Linnea said, setting Abell gently onto the floor and also standing up. 'What did you do to the Dursleys?'

'I beg your pardon?' It was clear from the Headmaster's expression that he had not been expecting such a question.

'The Dursleys hate and fear me for the magic that I possess,' Linnea expounded slowly, watching Professor Dumbledore's face very keenly. 'I can't understand why they would want to keep me - there must be a reason for it. Since you are the one who put me here, I'm sure that you know what that reason is, as you are quite possibly the one who made it come about. So what is it?'

Linnea was well aware that her tendency to call people out on their mistakes and failures - ones that they tried to masquerade as successes - and question their actions and motives was the trait that least endeared her to adults. She knew that she had done the same to Professor Dumbledore in each of their meetings, but he had generally remained amicable towards her. When she asked her last question, however, his expression went hard as he looked down at her.

'Goodbye, Linnea.' With that, the Headmaster left, leaving behind an eleven-year-old girl sure that she had finally crossed some line.

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, a hand raised wearily to his temple.

'I take it you failed in your attempts to get Potter to subscribe to your way of thinking?'

He looked up to find the Sorting Hat smirking heavily at him. He sighed.

'The girl is obstinate and hardheaded; she seems thoroughly convinced that she alone could possibly know what is best for her.'

'She's not that different from you, then,' the Sorting Hat retorted with a derisive laugh.

Albus sighed again. He couldn't believe how much of a headache dealing with Linnea Potter was giving him. She was far too independent for someone her age, and she seemed to have a deep-seated distrust of adults and authority figures - or was it only towards him that she was so guarded? It didn't matter either way; she clearly not fond of and highly suspicious of him. Her last question had caught him completely off guard, not because it had surprised him, but because she had effectively accused him of doing what she was doing: keeping the Dursleys under control through fear. He once again felt disgruntled that such a young girl would think nothing of speaking to him that way. She did not seem to have a care of whose toes she might step on with the way she spoke.

Fawkes, sensing his ire, gave a brilliant trill while he ruffled his wings and Albus immediately felt better. He smiled at his phoenix in thanks then glanced around at the portraits of previous Hogwarts Heads; most of them were asleep. He turned back to the Sorting Hat, which was still watching him with that annoying smirk, and asked, 'What d'you think I should do about her?'

The Hat quirked what would have been an eyebrow if it had one. 'I will remember this day for all time: Albus Dumbledore at a complete loss over an eleven-year-old girl.' The Hat cackled, ignoring Albus closing his eyes and sighing again. 'I warned you to be straightforward with her, Dumbledore, and to stay as far away from her personal life as you could - but you didn't listen. Even if I do tell you what I think, will this time be any different?'

'You know what is at stake; I could not simply stand back and watch. I did that before, and we both know what happened as a result. She is so much like Tom was when he was young.'

'I don't know where you get that, seeing as you haven't seen her mind,' said the Sorting Hat.

Albus stared at the Sorting Hat in resignation. It had seen all there was to see in the mind of Linnea Potter, but he knew that it would never tell anyone what it had seen; the Hat was honor-bound to keep that information to itself. It had, however, given him some advice on how to deal with the girl after their meeting at the end of her first year - advice that he had readily ignored believing that it wouldn't have resulted in the best outcome. And so he had decided on what to do himself, and it had evidently blown up in his face. Linnea did not like him in any sense of the word, and was as far from trusting him as she could possibly be.

Linnea Potter was her own person, of that there was no question.

Albus opened his eyes and again asked the Hat what he should do around Linnea Potter. It stared at him for a long time before saying abruptly, 'Leave her alone - completely.'

He had been prepared to hear these words as he had been thinking them himself. Every interaction he had with Linnea seemed to result in her poking holes and getting angrier with him. Yes, he would leave her alone for now, keeping a close eye on her from afar. He thought again of how Linnea's actions mimicked those of Lord Voldemort and once again grew worried. He was determined not to remain blind this time; he would do something when and if he had to.

'Is it really surprising that the girl doesn't worship the ground you walk on? She didn't grow up hearing your praises sung by their parents as most in the Wizarding world did - and then she discovers that you are the one that put her with those Muggles. Just how did you expect her to act towards you?'

'It was for her protection,' Albus said firmly. The Hat snorted.

Albus had been cursing that article ever since Rita Skeeter had published it. He didn't know what sources she had for her facts to be so accurate, but it didn't much matter; the damage had already been done, and he had been living under a political microscope ever since the summer holidays began. He had had to call a meeting of the Wizengamot and explain - in more detail than he had had to the last time - what he had done in regard to Linnea Potter's upbringing and why. Some accepted his reasons, some thought him insane for taking the girl to live with "savage" Muggles while others either hadn't made their minds up yet. He didn't doubt that there were those who would seek to turn the situation to their advantage in some way, meaning that he had to keep a sharp eye out around himself.

Much of the Wizarding community's ill feelings had been quelled, but had left behind a burning curiosity focused on the Girl Who Lived. She would come back for her second year with even more interest focused on her, and he of course had no way to stop it between those that were watching him and young Linnea herself. She had admitted herself to have taken to her fame, and she would no doubt be highly unappreciative of anyone trying to tell her how to deal with it.

'You're too old to worry so much, you know,' the Sorting Hat said snidely.

'How could I not worry? She does not mind her fame at all; in fact, she seems to want to stand out as much as possible. She has already shown a capacity for violence and cruelty -'

'What, did you expect her to just smile at the Weasley boy after what he supposedly said against her and her friends? She wanted to send a message, and she did it very effectively as far as I'm concerned.'

'It was not the right way to handle the situation,' Albus insisted.

'According to you,' retorted the Sorting Hat. 'And I do not think that it is your place to pass judgment on her actions, Dumbledore. What she is is mostly as a result of your own actions. If what you suspect of her upbringing is even half true, is it really so surprising that she would be distrustful of you and most other adults? It was their job to protect and care for her and they didn't, so she doesn't blindly trust them as much as she would her own peers. She spent most of her life being bullied if that old bat Figg's reports are to be believed; in all that time, do you really think that she would not have learned that all you need to do to take down a bully is to bully them? She was without any friends; is it truly shocking that she would be happy to find herself famous, happy to find that more people than she could ever have hoped for care about who she is? You know as well as I how complex the mind is, Dumbledore. How could you expect her to react to these things exactly as you thought she would? And let us not forget about her parents. They were good people, but even you cannot deny that they were very far from being saints.'

Albus took all of this in in silence. When he did not respond, the Hat continued, saying, 'I understand your concerns, but you are going about this the wrong way. I think Potter's already proven that she will not be steered in any direction that she does not want to take. Let the girl grow up on her own. Keep an eye on her if you must, but I wouldn't recommend doing that yourself; keeping in mind your having the teachers watch her, your involvement in her living with those Muggles and your interference today, I would wager that she is very close to having had enough of you.'

Albus sighed again. 'I fear that you may be right,' he acknowledged sadly.