Harry Potter And The Lost Hollows

Getting past a location, McGonagall gets to the right location: a slightly run-down orphanage. Looking at the sign— it's faded and with ivy growing. "Looks more like an abandoned hospital than a place of living." She mutters.

Stepping through, she makes it through the gate. The orphanage is dulled with soot and years of rain. Ivy clings to the walls. She looks at the windows—many of them are chipped or unclean.

The front garden is also run down. It stopped being a garden quite some time ago. The flowers look dead—or at least overgrown with weeds.

McGonagall steps past most of them and gets to the porch. It isn't much of a front porch, really—not at all. It's a slab of cracked concrete. Over it hangs a slanted roof of rusting tin, with a single lightbulb above. The doormat is also ripped, its design faded into threads and half-covered by dirt.

Knocking on the wooden doors, a young woman—around twenty-five, give or take—opens the door. She is holding a baby in her arms.

Looking at the woman, McGonagall softly smiles. "Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Ms. Lowry. May I please come in?"

"Oh," the woman says. She takes in how McGonagall looks—it's quite different from most people, particularly the green robes. She remembers the letter she received from a woman named Minerva McGonagall.

"I am Ms. Lowry, ma'am… please come in—please." Letting her in, she steps to the side. McGonagall walks in and notices how tired she looks. Well, she is running an orphanage on her own with low funding.

Stepping into the hallway, it's pretty run-down. The floor creaks quite often. Walking behind Ms. Lowry, she sees the rooms— all cluttered together in the same hallway.

"Currently, all the kids are in their rooms right now, each doing their own thing—some play—sorry, I'm boring you with all this talk. We don't normally get that many people here."

McGonagall nods. "It's fine. I understand— you're trying your hardest."

Ms. Lowry nods. Then they get to her office. She opens it and lets them both in. Ms. Lowry pulls out a chair for her and then sits in her own, bouncing the baby up and down so it can fall asleep.

"So, ma'am, why are you here? It's about Cain, isn't it?" Ms. Lowry asks in a hesitant voice.

"Yes. My name is Minerva McGonagall. As you know from the letter you received from me, it's about the boy Cain Blair. I wanted to discuss the arrangements for his future," said McGonagall.

"Are you… related? He'll be elated if you're family," asked Ms. Lowry.

"No, I am a professor," McGonagall said softly. "I've come to offer him a rightful place at a school he belongs to."

"What school is this?"

"It's called Hogwarts, ma'am," said McGonagall. 

"Why are you interested in him? I know his grades in primary school—there's a lot of talk about moving him up a year… but how can I trust you?"

"We want him because he has the qualities we are looking for. As for why you should trust me: we have a reputation all over the world. He would do great at our school."

"You mean he's being considered for—well—a scholarship, maybe? I did submit a few for him. I submitted ones for all the kids here…"

"Well, his name has been registered since birth…"

"Who registered him? Was it his parents? I remember how his mother looked… she was quite weak when she came here—poor woman. I was only fourteen…"

'Fourteen?' McGonagall thinks.

Ms. Lowry cared for her kids, that was for certain. She was a sharp woman, but apparently, she knew most of these kids more as a sister than a caretaker—she had been in the orphanage since she was a child, and took over after the passing of the original matron, Aveline.

"Here." McGonagall hands her a piece of paper; it seems to be documentation. "This should explain everything."

Ms. Lowry looks at the document and gazes at the paper for a little while.

"This looks perfect. I wanna maybe—uh—write some stuff on it, like I want to be his main caretaker. Like his guardian or parent."

McGonagall nods at her.

Ms. Lowry looks back up. "May I offer you anything? I don't have much—but I have some wine," she says slightly hesitant, with a reserved smile. 

"Thank you," McGonagall replies, accepting the drink. She smiles at the woman as she takes a sip.

McGonagall then takes a minute to continue talking.

"Can you tell me more about Cain Blair? Anything about his birth—he was born here, right? In this orphanage?"

Ms. Lowry takes a moment to pause, then smiles softly.

"Uh… he's very quiet. He likes to be alone. I try to get him to interact with the others, but he doesn't… he's… different." Thinking for a minute, she then perks up.

"He's very responsible—oh! And kind! Very kind child. He tends to help me a lot… he is also very gentle and soft with the babies, when it comes to it—if that matters…"

Noticing her energetic remarks, McGonagall's expression softens greatly. "What about his birth? Do you know about that? You look quite young, so I doubt you were the one running the orphanage when he was born, right?"

Nodding at her, she takes a moment to think—

"His birth, hmm…" Her face lights up. "Yes, his birth. I helped that day. I was the only girl of age who could understand what was happening at the time. It was the day of Christmas, if I remember correctly. Bitter cold outside. I was fourteen at that time. My birthday happened a week before Christmas. In the orphanage, Mrs. Aveline—she came in with a woman, who I would reckon was maybe nineteen—she was a young thing. She took her in; she was pregnant. She had the baby within the hour. Then, after the birth—around twenty minutes later… she passed away. She named him Cain Blair."

Ms. Lowry pours herself a glass and takes a generous swig. Clearly, this affected her deeply.

"Did she…" McGonagall takes a minute to adjust her own voice. "Did she say anything before she died? Like the father—or family?"

She thinks more deeply. After a while, she remembers.

"Yes, she said something about it—and his name." Taking another minute, she calms down. "I remember she said… 'I hope he looks like his papa.' And she was beautiful herself, so I never understood why she said that, even when weak and feeble. She then said he is named 'Cain' after her father, and 'Amirus' for herself—that's her maiden name, I think—and 'Blair' for his family name. She soon was too weak to talk and passed away…"

She takes a second to catch her voice. 

"Well, we named him just as she said. It seemed important to her. Mrs. Aveline felt horrible for not giving the poor woman at least that much respect. He has stayed here at the orphanage since then."

Ms. Lowry helps herself to another swig of wine. She quite enjoyed it. Then she continues, "He was a funny baby, though."

"Funny, you say?" Listening, McGonagall keeps a cool expression.

"He hardly ever cried. And then, as you know, as he got older— he's just a very kind, very good boy. I love everything about him… I'm gonna miss him when you take him… it's only for the school year right? He'll come back for holidays and everything right?" 

McGonagall nodded at her. 

They sit in silence for a little while until McGonagall breaks it.

"May I take a look around the orphanage by myself, please? Just for a quick moment."

Ms. Lowry takes a moment to compose herself, then smiles. "Yes—that'll be great. Plea–please do…" It seems the emotions finally got to her. Nodding, McGonagall gets up.

Walking out of the room, she softly shuts the door. She transforms into a silver tabby cat, moving around the rooms, circling back to all she can find.

Getting through different rooms she looks into them quietly, and some kids are just playing.

Soon, she moves to the hallway that leads back to Ms. Lowry's office.

She didn't look into this room the first time, but this time she does.

She looks in. A boy—around eleven—is reading a book with a soft expression. She looks at his warm brown skin, his short, thick, curly afro. His brown eyes flick up to her. She meows at him, then immediately takes off.

The boy goes after her. She still checks other rooms despite the boy being behind her. Soon enough, they get back to the office.

McGonagall jumps out of an open window. The boy watches in confusion.

He opens the door to Ms. Lowry's room and goes in.

Jumping back into the building off of the ledge she landed on, her paws softly touch the creaky floors. 

Moving to the Ms. Lowry's door, she hears the boy and the woman talk. 

Listening to the conversation outside the door and realizes that it's Cain.

She shifts back, and walks in. "Mr. Blair, it's nice to meet you."