drownedinlight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drownedinlight) wrote2011-06-03 01:58 pm
drownedinlight) wrote2011-06-03 01:58 pm
Entry tags:
Still thinking of that title...
I spent a few hours with Silverfang establishing my new identity. Wizards I have to say, Cloudy, do not mind their own bureaucracy so much. Silverfang merely sent some files to ministry that if I ever got caught I had done everything legally, and even documented me as the first official time traveler. Just in case. It amazes me that all of this could go unnoticed though. I mean, does no one ever check the records? Don’t they have clerks for this sort of thing? When we get older, we might have to mind things more carefully, so that people do not get away with nearly as many shenanigans as we did.
Another thing I’ve thought a lot about is how much more I should tell you about what I do from here on out. After all, if you know what’s going to happen to me, you wouldn’t be able to come back. The temptation would be too great, I think, for both of us to want to know what will happen. It’s bad enough that I already have some clues as to what I do when because I needed the assurance that I actually do time travel. I know it might hurt you and Dad (and Remus and Sirius, when you get around to sharing this with them), but I can’t tell you anymore. I’ll keep a separate diary and show them to you if you really want, but once everything’s all caught up and both of us are in the right time together.
So I suppose that means I’ll have to tell you more about what I did as a younger child. I’m sure you were wondering where I learned such things as how to apparate, and even how to negotiate with Goblins. Well, Ignotus taught me a great deal, especially in those things he considered to be the old ways. The rest of what he taught me was merely patience and perseverance.
Well, that was when I could finally bring myself to get back to Potter compound. As soon as I would port key into the portrait room, I would run out as quickly as I could and go to where ever I needed to go. Mostly, I accessed things by the ghost book, because the portraits and shades of our ancestors are connected magically into the very stone of the fortress there and I could always feel them watching me like I had somehow betrayed the family and was to be shamed for it. Even when I would let Ignotus out so he could teach me to control the magical energy in side of me, or whatever he felt like teaching me. I could still feel the others watching me.
“They would help you, if you asked,” Ignotus told me one afternoon as we strolled through the beastiary. The beastiary was an indoor forest with many creatures roaming about. Ignotus said that they sensed that he was not all alive and that I was in control of their sanctuary so they understood, for the most part not to attack me. “The other ancestors have many things they could teach you, childe.”
“I know they do, I just feel like, since my fight with Callum, I’ve let so many of them down,” I admitted. “Plus I’m nearly eleven; I’ll be going to Hogwarts soon.”
“So you will,” Ignotus said. “And no doubt you will find yourself very bored, childe. You will need to return here when you can, and release this guilt you harbor and allow yourself to be taught.” Part of me knew this was true, as I had often wondered what Hogwarts curriculum was like, and since I was an inquisitive child, I went and researched it. Lily and Dad still had their old school books and so I checked through them. I, off course, could not quite cast yet, being without a wand, and not proficient enough in Ignotus’ old magic. But it all seemed very simple to me. It was essential, of course to learn these things, and I could see why Hogwarts would assign a first year such tasks as turning a matchstick into a needle. After all, younger wizards (all children for that matter) to not have the focus or magical energy to try something else, so they need something simple to concentrate on.
So though I did not like the idea, and it all seemed terribly simple to me, I knew why they started us on simple charms and transfigurations because they were trying to build up our core and focus. I still did not like the idea though. After all, if I could master these spells, what chance was there for advancement after that? Was I simply to remain, practicing them over and over again? Could I trust that I would really be challenged when the professors had many other students, who might not be as advanced as me or want to be for that matter?
The answer was no. And I was all right with that, really. I had been teaching myself things for years, there was no sense in stopping now simply because I was to attend Hogwarts. But there was also a bit of self-doubt. Not only because being advanced for your age rarely meant being recognized as a genius when you were younger, but because I had never really tried to practice magic with a wand. Of course Ignotus was teaching me to focus my core and do wand less magic, but that was very slow going and most of it was being able to move objects very simply. It was nothing like changing a match into a needle stick. I had never actually brewed a potion either, now that I thought about it, though I did know a thing or two about gardening and herbology. My specialty of learning was in Runes and Arithmacy, subjects we would not cover until we reached third year.
I thought I might not be as good a witch as I hoped.
I began anxiously counting down the days until the Hogwarts letter arrived, until Dad and Lily would take the two of us to Diagon Alley, so that I could get my wand and finally try out some spells. Ignotus caught what I had been thinking about somehow (I swear, the shade knows how to read minds beyond simple legimancy), and challenged me to do some of the more simple things without a wand.
“We have a potion’s cupboard,” he informed me, “and I’m sure you can find a matchstick and something to make float if you would really like to try some of the simpler spells.”
“But I can’t even make something move!” I said. “Who’s to say I’ll be able to turn a match into a needle and make something float up into the air?” Ignotus smiled at me.
“Tell me, childe, what is magic?” I had never been asked that before, and I had certainly never read about it.
“I guess, I guess it’s a type of force or energy that we have power over,” I said. “We can use it to manipulate the things around us.”
“That’s a good enough answer,” Ignotus said, nodding. “Now, how do you use this force to command the things around you?” I had not thought about that either, and I only had the lessons we had in moving objects around and in looking inside of myself to find my center to judge from.
“I suppose, you sort of expand it out from yourself,” I said.
“And how does that make it do what you want?” he asked.
“I’m not really sure,” I replied with a shrug.
“Well, then I will take pity on you,” Ignotus said. “Magic is about making that force inside of you do what you want it to. In the exercises I have been having you do; you have had no further intent than to simply do magic. When you have a focused intent, such as turning a matchstick into a needle, the magic flows through you and into the match, making it metal and pointy. Do you understand?”
“I thinks so,” I replied. Ignotus bent over and snatched a stick up from the dirt. He held it out, his palm flat and said to me,
“Make it float.” I thought about it, a lot actually. I thought about the way the stick looked now and how it would look when it was floating, and I thought about what I wanted to do with that stick. I wanted to make it rise in Ignotus’ hand. I wanted it to float. I held on to that wanting and the stick trembled in his hand and slowly, ever so slowly, began to rise. When it was a float away from his hand, I made it stop and hold still in the air. The rush in my body felt amazing as I held it there for a few moments, before Ignotus said, “Drop it.” Then I let all of it; go let the magic flowing through me cease and the stick dropped to the ground, nearly hitting me in the head. “You see childe? Intent, control, power and will make a grand deal of what magic is all about,” he said. “You have studied this for some time now, and I have no doubt you will continue to be diligent in your pursuit of control over your magic. You will be great, childe. Have faith in yourself.”
And so I went on studying. I brewed the first year potion’s syllabus, I practiced the spells with my wand less magic, managing to transform the matchstick into a needle on my third try, and then moving on to the other transfiguration spells offered in the old school books. Once Ignotus taught me the lesson of intent, getting Hogwarts letters seemed ages away, even though it was only March then.
I do believe I realized my problem when Dad caught me reading one of his old third year transfiguration texts.
“Getting a little bit ahead of yourself, are you?” he asked. I flushed wondering how I could explain myself. “Don’t worry, poppet! I’m only teasing. It’s good that you’re showing an interest in your school work, even if you are a few months early. Excited about getting your wand then?”
“Oh, yes!” I said. Even though I was working my way up the learning ladder without one, it was still a rite of passage, and I admit it, I had always envied the fact that you had a wand when I did not Cloudy. “I can’t wait to try a few things with it. Dad, are we allowed to practice spells before school?”
“Oh, it’s overlooked for the most part,” he said. “It’s once you start Hogwarts that they really start cracking down during the summer holidays. But I don’t see the harm in letting you try the first year spells. It will be good review for your brother as well.” I must have made a face, because he asked, “Sweetness, are you jealous of your brother?”
“Being jealous would imply that I have a right to own what he has,” I informed him. “I don’t think it’s fair that he got to start practicing magic early, but it doesn’t really matter now.” I shrugged. “I’m about to get my wand, after all, and I can catch up to Cloudy and we’ll make history together.” Dad grinned at me, kissed my forehead, and drew me into a hug.
“Good, because for a moment I suspected you had ambitions of becoming a dark lady and overthrowing the wizarding world because we let your brother start practicing magic early.” He pulled back and sudden his face pulled together in a serious fashion. “Do you know why we let John start practicing magic early?”
“Because he’s the boy-who-lived.” That was another thing I did not like, but understood to an extent. No matter what you did or did not do when you faced Voldemort in diapers, John, there was a certain prestige to being able to knock the Dark Lord on his ass as a baby. Certain things would be expected of you from then on, like being a powerful wizard who had the potential to learn magic sooner than others.
“Well, it’s partly that,” Dad admitted. He narrowed his eyes at me, and furrowed his brows. “We…we haven’t told your brother this yet, and I’m honestly not sure if I should tell you, but, can you promise you won’t tell him this secret?”
“Not without good reason,” I agreed.
“I suppose I can live with that,” Dad said. “Dumbledore is fairly sure that Voldemort was not fully…destroyed, the night your brother defeated him. Albus thinks that one day, Voldemort might return, and he will come after John, and John may very well be the only one who can stop him.”
“But why John?” I asked. “He’s not even eleven yet, and Voldemort had been trained for years in the dark arts when he took power.”
“I know, and that’s why we started training him early,” James said. “So he can move onto the advanced things more quickly and hopefully stand a chance should the dark lord return.” Dad pulled me close again, and began stroking my hair. “We don’t know when, or even if at this point Voldemort will come back, so we’re trying to keep it a secret for now, and should the time arise, we will tell John.”
So many thoughts raced through my head. I was outraged by so many parts of this tale, I did not even know where to begin and think about it. Why were they making a child do their dirty work? Surely, there were wizards who were better trained for this. And if so, why were they keeping John in the dark about it? I could understand wanting a normal childhood; after being exposed for a few years to how the Potters wanted me to live against the slightly harsher reality Gnarls had given me, it was nice to be a little carefree. But I knew that Gnarls had prepared me for many situations in life, and not just bad ones, but also how to do things like take care of myself on a day to day basis, something I treasured him for.
My thoughts contradicted themselves until they spun around in my head making me dizzy and unsure of what to think. But I knew what I had to do. I had to be there for my brother, no matter what the outcome, or what was being kept from him or forced on him
“Dad?” I asked.
“Yes, darling?”
“When I get my wand, if I study really hard, will you help me so that I can train with John?” Dad pulled away and looked me right in the eye, a frown marring his face.
“Why would you want that?” he asked as if he were afraid I was becoming a dark lady again.
“Because, should John have to fight Voldemort, he’s going to need help, right?” I inquired. “I mean there’s a lot more to the dark lord than just himself, he’s got followers. I’m John’s sister, so I want to support him in any way I can. I want to fight alongside him if he has to fight.” Dad smiled at me, and his eyes grew shiny, and I’m fairly sure he pulled me into an embrace just so I wouldn’t see him cry.
“You are a good girl, Harriet Potter. Of course I’ll help you.” I gripped Dad back as tightly as I could; my arms not quiet making it all the way around him. He kissed my head again. “Don’t ever change, darling. Freeze right where you are.”
“I’ll try my hardest,” I replied.
Another thing I’ve thought a lot about is how much more I should tell you about what I do from here on out. After all, if you know what’s going to happen to me, you wouldn’t be able to come back. The temptation would be too great, I think, for both of us to want to know what will happen. It’s bad enough that I already have some clues as to what I do when because I needed the assurance that I actually do time travel. I know it might hurt you and Dad (and Remus and Sirius, when you get around to sharing this with them), but I can’t tell you anymore. I’ll keep a separate diary and show them to you if you really want, but once everything’s all caught up and both of us are in the right time together.
So I suppose that means I’ll have to tell you more about what I did as a younger child. I’m sure you were wondering where I learned such things as how to apparate, and even how to negotiate with Goblins. Well, Ignotus taught me a great deal, especially in those things he considered to be the old ways. The rest of what he taught me was merely patience and perseverance.
Well, that was when I could finally bring myself to get back to Potter compound. As soon as I would port key into the portrait room, I would run out as quickly as I could and go to where ever I needed to go. Mostly, I accessed things by the ghost book, because the portraits and shades of our ancestors are connected magically into the very stone of the fortress there and I could always feel them watching me like I had somehow betrayed the family and was to be shamed for it. Even when I would let Ignotus out so he could teach me to control the magical energy in side of me, or whatever he felt like teaching me. I could still feel the others watching me.
“They would help you, if you asked,” Ignotus told me one afternoon as we strolled through the beastiary. The beastiary was an indoor forest with many creatures roaming about. Ignotus said that they sensed that he was not all alive and that I was in control of their sanctuary so they understood, for the most part not to attack me. “The other ancestors have many things they could teach you, childe.”
“I know they do, I just feel like, since my fight with Callum, I’ve let so many of them down,” I admitted. “Plus I’m nearly eleven; I’ll be going to Hogwarts soon.”
“So you will,” Ignotus said. “And no doubt you will find yourself very bored, childe. You will need to return here when you can, and release this guilt you harbor and allow yourself to be taught.” Part of me knew this was true, as I had often wondered what Hogwarts curriculum was like, and since I was an inquisitive child, I went and researched it. Lily and Dad still had their old school books and so I checked through them. I, off course, could not quite cast yet, being without a wand, and not proficient enough in Ignotus’ old magic. But it all seemed very simple to me. It was essential, of course to learn these things, and I could see why Hogwarts would assign a first year such tasks as turning a matchstick into a needle. After all, younger wizards (all children for that matter) to not have the focus or magical energy to try something else, so they need something simple to concentrate on.
So though I did not like the idea, and it all seemed terribly simple to me, I knew why they started us on simple charms and transfigurations because they were trying to build up our core and focus. I still did not like the idea though. After all, if I could master these spells, what chance was there for advancement after that? Was I simply to remain, practicing them over and over again? Could I trust that I would really be challenged when the professors had many other students, who might not be as advanced as me or want to be for that matter?
The answer was no. And I was all right with that, really. I had been teaching myself things for years, there was no sense in stopping now simply because I was to attend Hogwarts. But there was also a bit of self-doubt. Not only because being advanced for your age rarely meant being recognized as a genius when you were younger, but because I had never really tried to practice magic with a wand. Of course Ignotus was teaching me to focus my core and do wand less magic, but that was very slow going and most of it was being able to move objects very simply. It was nothing like changing a match into a needle stick. I had never actually brewed a potion either, now that I thought about it, though I did know a thing or two about gardening and herbology. My specialty of learning was in Runes and Arithmacy, subjects we would not cover until we reached third year.
I thought I might not be as good a witch as I hoped.
I began anxiously counting down the days until the Hogwarts letter arrived, until Dad and Lily would take the two of us to Diagon Alley, so that I could get my wand and finally try out some spells. Ignotus caught what I had been thinking about somehow (I swear, the shade knows how to read minds beyond simple legimancy), and challenged me to do some of the more simple things without a wand.
“We have a potion’s cupboard,” he informed me, “and I’m sure you can find a matchstick and something to make float if you would really like to try some of the simpler spells.”
“But I can’t even make something move!” I said. “Who’s to say I’ll be able to turn a match into a needle and make something float up into the air?” Ignotus smiled at me.
“Tell me, childe, what is magic?” I had never been asked that before, and I had certainly never read about it.
“I guess, I guess it’s a type of force or energy that we have power over,” I said. “We can use it to manipulate the things around us.”
“That’s a good enough answer,” Ignotus said, nodding. “Now, how do you use this force to command the things around you?” I had not thought about that either, and I only had the lessons we had in moving objects around and in looking inside of myself to find my center to judge from.
“I suppose, you sort of expand it out from yourself,” I said.
“And how does that make it do what you want?” he asked.
“I’m not really sure,” I replied with a shrug.
“Well, then I will take pity on you,” Ignotus said. “Magic is about making that force inside of you do what you want it to. In the exercises I have been having you do; you have had no further intent than to simply do magic. When you have a focused intent, such as turning a matchstick into a needle, the magic flows through you and into the match, making it metal and pointy. Do you understand?”
“I thinks so,” I replied. Ignotus bent over and snatched a stick up from the dirt. He held it out, his palm flat and said to me,
“Make it float.” I thought about it, a lot actually. I thought about the way the stick looked now and how it would look when it was floating, and I thought about what I wanted to do with that stick. I wanted to make it rise in Ignotus’ hand. I wanted it to float. I held on to that wanting and the stick trembled in his hand and slowly, ever so slowly, began to rise. When it was a float away from his hand, I made it stop and hold still in the air. The rush in my body felt amazing as I held it there for a few moments, before Ignotus said, “Drop it.” Then I let all of it; go let the magic flowing through me cease and the stick dropped to the ground, nearly hitting me in the head. “You see childe? Intent, control, power and will make a grand deal of what magic is all about,” he said. “You have studied this for some time now, and I have no doubt you will continue to be diligent in your pursuit of control over your magic. You will be great, childe. Have faith in yourself.”
And so I went on studying. I brewed the first year potion’s syllabus, I practiced the spells with my wand less magic, managing to transform the matchstick into a needle on my third try, and then moving on to the other transfiguration spells offered in the old school books. Once Ignotus taught me the lesson of intent, getting Hogwarts letters seemed ages away, even though it was only March then.
I do believe I realized my problem when Dad caught me reading one of his old third year transfiguration texts.
“Getting a little bit ahead of yourself, are you?” he asked. I flushed wondering how I could explain myself. “Don’t worry, poppet! I’m only teasing. It’s good that you’re showing an interest in your school work, even if you are a few months early. Excited about getting your wand then?”
“Oh, yes!” I said. Even though I was working my way up the learning ladder without one, it was still a rite of passage, and I admit it, I had always envied the fact that you had a wand when I did not Cloudy. “I can’t wait to try a few things with it. Dad, are we allowed to practice spells before school?”
“Oh, it’s overlooked for the most part,” he said. “It’s once you start Hogwarts that they really start cracking down during the summer holidays. But I don’t see the harm in letting you try the first year spells. It will be good review for your brother as well.” I must have made a face, because he asked, “Sweetness, are you jealous of your brother?”
“Being jealous would imply that I have a right to own what he has,” I informed him. “I don’t think it’s fair that he got to start practicing magic early, but it doesn’t really matter now.” I shrugged. “I’m about to get my wand, after all, and I can catch up to Cloudy and we’ll make history together.” Dad grinned at me, kissed my forehead, and drew me into a hug.
“Good, because for a moment I suspected you had ambitions of becoming a dark lady and overthrowing the wizarding world because we let your brother start practicing magic early.” He pulled back and sudden his face pulled together in a serious fashion. “Do you know why we let John start practicing magic early?”
“Because he’s the boy-who-lived.” That was another thing I did not like, but understood to an extent. No matter what you did or did not do when you faced Voldemort in diapers, John, there was a certain prestige to being able to knock the Dark Lord on his ass as a baby. Certain things would be expected of you from then on, like being a powerful wizard who had the potential to learn magic sooner than others.
“Well, it’s partly that,” Dad admitted. He narrowed his eyes at me, and furrowed his brows. “We…we haven’t told your brother this yet, and I’m honestly not sure if I should tell you, but, can you promise you won’t tell him this secret?”
“Not without good reason,” I agreed.
“I suppose I can live with that,” Dad said. “Dumbledore is fairly sure that Voldemort was not fully…destroyed, the night your brother defeated him. Albus thinks that one day, Voldemort might return, and he will come after John, and John may very well be the only one who can stop him.”
“But why John?” I asked. “He’s not even eleven yet, and Voldemort had been trained for years in the dark arts when he took power.”
“I know, and that’s why we started training him early,” James said. “So he can move onto the advanced things more quickly and hopefully stand a chance should the dark lord return.” Dad pulled me close again, and began stroking my hair. “We don’t know when, or even if at this point Voldemort will come back, so we’re trying to keep it a secret for now, and should the time arise, we will tell John.”
So many thoughts raced through my head. I was outraged by so many parts of this tale, I did not even know where to begin and think about it. Why were they making a child do their dirty work? Surely, there were wizards who were better trained for this. And if so, why were they keeping John in the dark about it? I could understand wanting a normal childhood; after being exposed for a few years to how the Potters wanted me to live against the slightly harsher reality Gnarls had given me, it was nice to be a little carefree. But I knew that Gnarls had prepared me for many situations in life, and not just bad ones, but also how to do things like take care of myself on a day to day basis, something I treasured him for.
My thoughts contradicted themselves until they spun around in my head making me dizzy and unsure of what to think. But I knew what I had to do. I had to be there for my brother, no matter what the outcome, or what was being kept from him or forced on him
“Dad?” I asked.
“Yes, darling?”
“When I get my wand, if I study really hard, will you help me so that I can train with John?” Dad pulled away and looked me right in the eye, a frown marring his face.
“Why would you want that?” he asked as if he were afraid I was becoming a dark lady again.
“Because, should John have to fight Voldemort, he’s going to need help, right?” I inquired. “I mean there’s a lot more to the dark lord than just himself, he’s got followers. I’m John’s sister, so I want to support him in any way I can. I want to fight alongside him if he has to fight.” Dad smiled at me, and his eyes grew shiny, and I’m fairly sure he pulled me into an embrace just so I wouldn’t see him cry.
“You are a good girl, Harriet Potter. Of course I’ll help you.” I gripped Dad back as tightly as I could; my arms not quiet making it all the way around him. He kissed my head again. “Don’t ever change, darling. Freeze right where you are.”
“I’ll try my hardest,” I replied.