The becoming of future
Sáva Purkyně thought herself a capable witch. Maybe not the brightest. Maybe not the most powerful. But capable nether less.
She had many talents and gifts. None of them measured up to her ability to read people.
If anything, her father was a trickster. And, by her memories, quite a skilled one. She remembered many of his jokes and pranks. She remembered how dangerous and painful they could be.
Learning to read his intentions quickly became a question of survival.
So when she stumbled upon Snape outside the Ravenclaw common room, she immediately knew something wasn't very well.
It was the 30th of July 1997, and he told her, in the cryptic voice of his, she looked in need of a holiday.
When the death bell of Albus Dumbledore rang its last tone, she was far, far away - hiding in a little cottage in the safety of the Lake District.
She spent the majority of her summer there. Planning, scheming, and most importantly, wondering what the hell she was going to do.
Sáva knew she wasn't in immediate danger. She didn't come from muggles and was everything but pureblood. Not even the purest of them all could call her blood traitor. She wasn't clean enough for that.
No matter the purity or not of her blood, her bloodline, and family history still posed a dangerous question.
How useful could she be, and which side would be the first to ask for her collaboration?
The war was coming.
Sáva didn't care much for it, but she knew the war will bring out the worst in her.
~~~
On the 1st of August, a funny-looking portkey transported her to the Burrow.
Weasley twins always thought fondly of her and were amused by her strangeness and foreign behaviour. Their mother on the other hand felt uneasy about the young witch. Molly Weasley didn't understand Sáva's upbringing and name, so she feared it.
After the wedding ceremony, when she induced enough elf wine to be open to questions, Fred Weasley approached her.
With his bright eyes full of hope and dreams, he asked her why she left.
“You cannot leave a place you don't belong to,” was her answer. It tasted almost bitter on her tongue.
Fred Weasley only shook his head. Perhaps he wished for a different answer.
“You have no one to be afraid of.”
“No, I don't,” Sáva agreed. “But I might pose a threat to many.”
“You don't mean that,” he countered.
She only twitched her shoulders and help herself to another cup of wine. She had a fleeting tendency to overindulge.
She sighed mournfully when the young wizard still waited for another response. Sáva closed her eyes shut and counted to ten. It was the longest ten seconds of her life.
“You know very well,” the foreign witch started reluctantly, “how exactly the file with my name on the Department of International Magical Cooperation looks.”
“What is written about you in a stack of papers won't matter much longer,” he argued.
Sáva clenched the cup in her hand with surprising force. She stopped herself soon enough. In Fred's face, she could read his concern.
“No matter what will in upcoming months happen, I have work to do. I am in need of answers.”
“There are more important things than your hunger for knowledge and search for information. Join the Order, Sáva, your talents could change the future.”
“The future lies with Harry Potter. Furthermore, this isn't my war, Fred.”
“Still you choose to stay here, you little scientist. What a liar you have become.”
“It's dangerous for me to return home, Fred. Moreover, at this time.”
Fred Weasley only smiled at his friend and left her to her lies and illusions.
She drank another cup of wine before another person approached her.
Remus Lupin examined her with keen eyes and unconcealed interest. She deduced quickly enough why he came to speak to her.
She got part of the answer she sought. Which side would move first to get her?
“Miss Purkyně,” greeted the werewolf formally. “It's good to see you again.”
“Actually,” she couldn't help herself but act upon her bitterness, “it's Purkyňová, professor.”
He laughed at her rude correction.
“You must excuse my inability to pronounce your surname correctly, Sáva. It's too harsh and complicated for my English tongue.”
“There are easier ways to call me,” Sáva declared. “I have many names upon my people.”
“And still you chose the hardest for us.”
“A little test for the westerners only.”
He laughed once more.
“You know why I came to talk to you, don't you, Sáva?”
“Yes.”
“I know our ways and morals were often too strict and harsh for you, and not everyone could understand your curiosity. But we know of your talents and powers, Sáva. And I trust you to know the difference between good and evil.”
“Každá liška chválí svůj ocas, professor,” she replied.
Remus Lupin fought the urge to scream.
“Don't avoid the decision, Sáva. You were always so bright. Don't close your eyes before the injustices and evil deeds of Death Eaters and their master.”
“I came to see him. Just the day before. He told me I was radical. That I could shock Voldemort himself.”
Remus Lupin took her hand in his much larger and stronger. He smiled gently at her.
“You can be better than him, Sáva. You don't have the hunger for evil in you. Dumbledore may see something in you that spiked his concerns, but you are not him.”
She knew Dumbledore saw a reflection of Grindelwald in her. The knowledge was hard to bear.
The werewolf always knew what to say.
“Very well,” she finally agreed. “I will be your soldier.”
She thought about her father through the rest of the night. She tried to imagine what would he say. What would her powerful, curious trickster of a father make of her decision?
After all, he made long ago one of his own as well. He wouldn't either be able to once call himself an Acolyte.