Suri Marlowe and the Chamber of Secrets

SURI MARLOWE AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS

PROLOGUE


I rocked back and forth slowly and rhythmically, gripping my knees. The handcuffs they had me in were the stiff kind; instead of a chain connecting them it was a bar. I was allowed little movement of my hands these days. My room was white and it wasn’t fair.

I’d seen the other hospital rooms when I’d been brought here. They were bright and happy with flowers on the wall and toys scattered around. There were televisions and videogames, too. My room was white and plain and had no toys. I was being punished, I’d assumed. The staff was officially scared of me and so no one wanted to bring me toys. That was fine, though. I could rock. Back and forth, back and forth until I could barely feel the handcuffs biting into my arms.

The door to my room opened and I stilled. It was Mary, the white haired nurse who didn’t like me more than the others. I held very still.

“There is someone here to see you.” She snapped. “Claims to be a relative. Let’s hope, for your sake, it’s true.” She was out of the room almost as abruptly as she’d entered. Then there was a man.

He was quite tall, wore a suit, and had the longest beard I’d ever seen. Nurse Mary nodded to him once before disappearing down the hall. I glanced at the clock, confused as he approached me slowly before sitting down at the scarcely occupied chair next to my bed.

“How do you do, Suri?” He asked nicely enough.

“You’re not a doctor.” I whispered. “Doctors only come at six ‘o clock, twelve ‘o clock, and five ‘o clock. It’s only ten ‘o clock.”

“No,” he shook his head. “My name is Albus Dumbledore, Suri. I’m a Headmaster of a school.”

“A school for different people?” I pressed suspiciously. “A hospital school for different people.” I watched him through the strands of my hair

“Not a hospital. Just a school. But it is for different people, you’re right about that.” He admitted, watching me closely. “Won’t you look at me Suri?”

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re a wizard.” I snapped. “If I hurt you on accident you can hurt me back worse.”

“And how on earth would you know I was a wizard?” The Headmaster seemed rather startled.

“You said your name was Albus Dumbledore.” I reminded him. “She told me about you. She told me about Hogwarts. That’s your school, isn’t it? Your magic school?” I sneered at the term.

“Who is ‘she’?” Dumbledore asked carefully.

“My mom.” I answered easily enough. “She told me all about everything. She even taught me about magic.”

“And where is your mother? Does she know you’re here?” Dumbledore asked, leaning forward.

“No,” I whispered. “She died when I was born. I killed her when I came out.”

“Suri, I’m very certain you haven’t killed anyone…” Dumbledore seemed to search for the words. “But that’s for a later discussion, I’m sure. You said your mother taught you magic?”

“I read her diaries.” I confessed, tears pricking my eyes. “I wanted to know what she was like. Then I read about the magic…”

“And you tried it.” He finished for me.

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people!” I shrieked into my arms. “It was only a stupid candle! I didn’t even know there were people around!”

“Hush,” he placed a hand on my head and I stilled. “You cannot hurt me, Suri. More importantly, you will not hurt me.” He seemed so confident and so sure I just had to look up. “There, you see?” He smiled, eyes twinkling softly behind his half-moon glasses.

“Ever since then I can’t stop the magic.” I admitted. “The nurses think I’m trying to hurt them.”

“Well, I know better.” He raised his brows, emphasizing his words. “Relashio.” Suddenly the handcuffs were gone and I gasped.

“Is that your wand?” I marveled at the intricate carving.

“It is.” He nodded.

“Did you get yours from Ollivander’s as well? My mom wrote that ‘all the best wands come from Ollivander’s in Diagon Alley’.” I quoted, venturing a smile.

“Well your mother was right.” He chuckled. “Might I ask her name?”

“Piper.” I breathed the name with the same amount of pride I always did. “Piper Soriano. She was a Ravenclaw.”

“That she was! I remember Piper!” Dumbledore laughed merrily. “She was always the best Astronomy student, I remember. Not too shabby at Charms, either.”

“That’s right!” I nodded excitedly, swiping the remaining tears from my eyes. “She was a prefect.”

“We were all so terribly sorry when myself and the other professors at Hogwarts had heard of her passing. We had no idea she’d ever had a child.” Dumbledore sighed, sobering us both. “Might you know anything about your father?” It was as delicately put as it could be.

“Not much.” I shook my head. “Mom was always really secretive about him, even in her diary. She wrote his name down once but it was erased. I had to rub a pencil on the next page to get even that much. She said that people were out to get him, or something like that and she didn’t want to risk anyone reading her diary and finding out about him.” I remembered how much like a detective I’d felt like and the thrill of finally having a name. “I’ve been going by Soriano because it was what she wanted. She said she didn’t want anyone to know who I really was until it was ‘safe’.”


“I wish I knew what she meant. My mom wasn’t the best diary writer. Most of her entries are just short paragraphs, maybe five or six sentences.” I sighed.


“But you did discover his name?” Dumbledore questioned and suddenly I was struck with a whole new prospect.

“You could know him!” I was suddenly sitting at fully attention. “You knew my mom and she went to school with my dad so you could know him, too!”

“Yes,” Dumbledore chuckled at my excitement. “I’ll need his name first, Suri.”

“Oh, sorry!” I blushed. “It’s Sebastian! Sebastian Marlowe! Do you know him?” I asked, anticipation causing a flush to rise to my cheeks.

But Dumbledore didn’t respond. He just sat there, smile gone from his face, staring at me, unblinking.

“Is something wrong?” I asked quietly, not liking the sudden silence.

“Oh, no,” Dumbledore seemingly mentally shook himself. “It’s just…I’m surprised I didn’t spot it sooner. You look a great deal like your father.” His smile seemed sad all of the sudden and I wondered if it had anything to do with how my father had died. It had probably been terrible. Why else would my mother have not even written about it?

“I look like him?” I asked shyly. “Do I, really?”

“Frighteningly so.” He gave an almost nervous chuckle. “Except your hair.” He gave a strand a playful tug and I giggled. “Your mother had the same dark hair.”

“Did they spend a lot of time together?” I pictured my mother with her dark hair leaning against the shoulder of a faceless boy, studying or talking together.

“Not that I recall. If they had a relationship while they were at my school I was unaware of it. Piper and Sebastian were… quite different from each other.”

I pictured their romance as best I could. It had been secret and sweet, from what I’d read. Had opposites attracted? She mentioned once that they had been from separate houses. Perhaps that had been the need for secrecy. From what I gathered Hogwarts was highly competitive between houses.

“Do you remember what my father was good at?” I asked.

“I will never forget what your father was good at, Suri.” Dumbledore’s grave tone made me frown.

“I’m sorry you miss him, too.” I reached out shakily, patting the old man’s hand. “Did you know he named me Suri because it means Princess? My mom wrote that when my dad found out I was going to be a girl that’s what he called me; princess.” I beamed at the memory that didn’t belong to me.

“I’m certain he loved you very much, my dear.” Dumbledore nodded suddenly, as if he had decided something then. “Your father was an excellent Divination student and a top notch Quidditch player.” He added as he stood.

“Quidditch,” I remembered the word. “That’s a game right? Mom wasn’t very specific.”

“Perhaps you’ll learn more about it this year when you enroll at Hogwarts.” He smiled down at me.

“You mean…I can go to Hogwarts?” The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I knew little of the school other than the blurbs my mother had left me in her diaries.

“Only if you’d like to.” He offered, eyes twinkling.

“But, I don’t have any clothes or books…they all burned up in the fire.” I added quietly, worried Dumbledore might reconsider.

“Not to worry, my dear.” Dumbledore offered me his hand and I slid out of the hospital bed, my bare feet slapping lightly against the cold tile. “Hogwarts has an excellent financial aid program.”

“It does?” I asked, marveling as we walked out the door.

“Well,” he simply shrugged. “It does now.”



AN: Is it rough? Yes. The point is I’m putting it out there. I’ll fine tune later. I just don’t want to break my mojo and stop to edit and such.