They all burst into dry laughter.
“A Muggle,” Remus snorted. “Right. Muggles don’t have powers, Professor. Wizards can’t do… whatever she did. How could a Muggle do what a wizard can’t?”
“She is one of the rare few who can wield a power beyond a wizard’s grasp,” Dumbledore said easily. “Mr. Lupin, please do not think that we are the only magical ones in the world.”
“I don’t,” Remus snapped, nettled at Dumbledore’s overly patient tone. “Professor, will you please just tell us who she is? And what she is, and why she’s here?”
Professor Dumbledore handed him a scrap of parchment. “This is her full name,” he explained, “and it is not to be spoken aloud under any circumstances.”
Remus looked at the piece of paper. Francesca Reynolds was written on it in neat, loopy letters.
“As you might imagine,” Dumbledore explained, “she is hardly the only girl named “Francesca” in the world, so it would be of little use to You-Know-Who to place the Taboo on her first name alone. “Reynolds” is also not uncommon, which is why it is only her full name that alerts You-Know-Who’s followers to her whereabouts. As she may be with us for some time, I must ask that you refrain from calling them to the school. As for what she is…” he fell silent.
“Well?” James asked impatiently.
“I only know a little, I’m afraid,” the old professor said, not looking at them. “But I do know that, while there is no official name for people such as them, this young lady has the ability to travel into pockets of a past time. To put it more simply…” he paused, thinking. “There are small bubbles all over the world containing a bit of time that was sealed within them. While the rest of the world moves on, they stay frozen. They are invisible, intangible, and cannot be accessed without the aid of one of Miss Reynolds’s kind. Does that make some sense?”
“Um, no,” Peter said flatly. “That makes no sense at all.”
“Be that as it may,” Dumbledore said, “it doesn’t matter at the moment. I know you will not like this, but I’m afraid that this girl must be protected at all costs.” He glared over his glasses at the students. “All costs. She is important and I’m very much afraid that Ms. Evans is right; Voldemort does want this girl, and badly. Therefore, I have decided to use your influence in this school to protect her.”
He motioned towards them. “You five are among the most popular people in this school. Yes,” he smiled, “I do know this. Mr. Black, please do not look so surprised… believe it or not, I do have some idea of my students’ social standings.”
McGonagall took a large stainless-steel bowl from one of Madame Pomfrey’s many medical cabinets and placed it sharply on a little table. She plunged a hand into the pocket of her robes and withdrew a pouch. The teenagers watched her, fascinated, as she poured black pebble-like things into the bowl.
“Excuse me,” Dumbledore said sternly, dragging their attention away from McGonagall, who was now poking the pebbles with her wand. “You have power in this school, do you understand me? If you can impress on your peers that the girl needs to be protected, they will protect her. If you do not, then they will not. Do not let her become an outcast, or we may soon find You-Know-Who at our door.”
The professor stood up and motioned at the bowl. “Gather round, now,” he said. “I think you’d best have a good look at her before we send her up. She will be staying in the Gryffindor Commons tonight until we can find a more suitable place.”
They got to their feet and shuffled over. Remus was jostled to the edge of the crowd. He watched the pebbles melt into an image of the interior of Hagrid’s hut and fumed. Become friends with her? He didn’t want to protect the girl; he wanted to avenge himself and get rid of her for good.
Remus peered over Peter’s shoulder and looked at the picture. No sound was emitting from it, although it did have a funny smell, like burning feathers. He saw that Francesca, having taken the ridiculous shawl off, was absently petting Hagrid’s new boarhound puppy. Fang was wagging his tail and looking adoringly at her, his pink tongue lolling out.
Remus squeezed in between James and Peter and leaned in for a closer look. Although he couldn’t see her face, he now noticed that Francesca had very short brown hair that looked as if it had been expertly hacked off with blunt razor blades. She had probably done the damage herself, with that steak knife of hers.
Lily looked up. “She doesn’t look so bad to me…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Remus grumbled sulkily. Why did Lily have to give everyone a chance? Merlin only knew that some people just didn’t deserve one.
“Oh, come on,” Lily said earnestly.
“Dogs bring out the best in everyone,” Sirius pointed out, a note of pride in his voice. Showoff.
Remus glared at him. They were supposed to be providing a united front here.
James suddenly swore quite loudly, breaking up the conversation. Neither of the professors seemed to notice.
“Oh, Albus…” Professor McGonagall murmured. “What happened to her face?”
Remus looked back at the picture. Francesca had turned around and was now staring at them. There were three very deep, very wide gashes that spanned the distance from her forehead to her jaw. The outermost two sliced straight across both of her eyes, although, for some reason, the eyes themselves were unscarred. They were set rather wide, almost an inch apart, with ragged edges. All three were a horrid mauve-black color, and they couldn’t have been more than a few days old. Remus shivered. They looked like the sort of gashes that an animal with large claws could inflict. Animals like werewolves.
“Merlin,” Peter said. “Look at her eyes.”
Remus stared harder. Francesca’s eyes were a very light brown, the color of diluted Firewhiskey. They were very large, and quite deep. Endless. Yes, that was definitely the word. They were endless, unmarred. There was nothing to break the color. No freckles, no odd streaks-
“No pupils,” Lily whimpered. “Oh, my God. She has no pupils.” She shuddered and gripped James’s arm. “She has no pupils,” she squeaked, shaking him a bit. James winced as her spangled pink fingernails dug through the sleeves of his robes.
“Well,” Sirius said in grim cheerfulness, breaking the short pause, “I think we can all agree that she’s the Devil, or at least his secretary. Doubtless she holds some high position in his hierarchy.”
Francesca’s image stared up at them. She smiled, causing her face to split horribly, and gave them the thumbs-up. Fang jumped up and happily slobbered all over her mutilated face, causing her to laugh and close her eyes against the onslaught. This only made the scars ripple across her face even more. It seemed as though the skin would tear at any moment.
Dumbledore rapped his wand in a businesslike manner against the bowl, and it vanished in a cloud of bitter-smelling smoke. “Like it or not, that is now the most important assignment that you have. I’m afraid that it may stay this way for quite a while, unless something should happen. She will sleep in the Gryffindor Common room tonight.” He walked toward the door with alarming speed and paused at the doorway. “Oh, and one more thing? Do not allow her to get into fights, particularly ones where physical blows will be exchanged. She does not have total control of her temper.”