Author's Note: This is the very beginning of our story, giving a
little background on our new character, Rainy Taylor. Even if you don't
like original character stories, please give this one a chance. I'm
working really hard on writing this, what with the enormous amounts of
homework that my school gives and all. I promise not to make this one of
those stories that is just abandoned, just so long as you keep telling me
you want more. I'm writing this for two main reasons:
1) To satisfy my imagination.
2)To write a marauder fic that people would hopefull enjoy reading.
Please, my goal is to create a piece of writing that people will be waiting on the edge of their seats for the next chapter. I do intend for this to be very long. This first chapter does not mention any of the marauders, and it is mostly about Rainy herself. But if you don't read it, you sorta miss out. But please, give it a chance.
I never let go of muggle music. True, I took in wizard music as well, but there was no replacing the Beatles or REM or Placebo. And it was this muggle music that I was listening to when there came a tapping at my window on a soon-to-be life altering July 31st.
Odd, I thought, turning to see what the cause of the noise was.
There, in my line of sight, was a regal looking owl clutching a cream- colored envelope in its claws.
Wait a second. Regal looking? But owls are owls, they can't look regal. Besides, it's bright and sunny as day out there. Because it is day. Owls are nocturnal. Huh? My thoughts were jumbled, and yet I still opened my window, allowing the owl to fly in and perch itself on my bed frame. The envelope landed softly on my dark green pillow. I picked it up, opened it, and let several sheets of unlined paper of the same color fall onto my bedspread.
The first sheet of paper I saw had landed face up. I stared down at it and read it outloud:
"Uniform: First year students will require: Three sets of plain work robes (black), one plain pointed hat (black) for day wear, one pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar), one winter cloak (black, silver fastenings). Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags."
I stared at the owl for a moment before continuing on.
"Course Books: All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling."
"Rainy! Come down for dinner, your father's home!"
My eyes shot up from the paper and wandered towards the door of my room. What was this letter thing? 'Magical Theory'? 'Standard Book of Spells'? Maybe I should bring it downstairs and see what my parents had to say about it. On the other hand, the owl was still sitting on the frame of my bed, looking impatient. Was it waiting for something?
"Can you come back tomorrow or something?" I asked it, not sure what I was expecting it to do, or why it would come back in the first place.
The owl flew out my still open window, apparently getting the message. How weird was that? I gathered the envelope and its contents and stuck them in my pocket to bring up later at dinner. My father most likely had other more important things to tell us about, and I still wasn't sure if I wanted to show them or not anyway.
* * * * * *
"I have an announcement to make," proclaimed my father, after finishing off his chicken fried steak.
My mother clapped and begged, "Oh, Sam, what is it?"
I cringed. Whenever my mother took this form of "faithful wife of politician", I couldn't stand it. But, well brought up politician's daughter that I was, I pressed on, "Tell us! Tell us!"
My father grinned. He was just loving this, I know. Who wouldn't? Having a wife and a daughter that were nearly brainwashed to be your model family; which basically means being seen and not heard, always hanging on your every word, and being perfectly normal. I hated it. And yet, I still went on with it. I suppose I hadn't discovered my true self yet. Or whatever balderdash they say.
"Well, you're eating dinner with a future candidate for this state's governor!"
"Oh Sam!" my mother jumped up and hugged him. This was big. My father had been trying to get into this position for years, before I was even born, I imagine. And now he was finally there.
Speaking of announcements, I had one of my own. But couldn't that wait?
"Rainy, dear, did you hear your father? He's running for governor!" my mother seemed to find it impossible for me to not be jumping up and down with joy.
"She's just radiating from the shock, Martha my dear." My father seemed to think the same. However, it still hadn't hit me what a fake household I was a member of.
"Oh," I started, not sure of how to voice what it was I needed to say. I wasn't even sure of what the letter was in the first place. I slipped my hand into the pocket of my bell bottoms, gripping the letter tightly. My curiosity won out over my unsureness, and I pulled the envelope and its contents out.
Mt father noticed this immediately, possibly because it wasn't hugging him that I was doing. "What's that, sweetheart?"
I handed him the sheets of paper and put the envelope back in my pocket.
He began to read out loud, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry- headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Surpreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)."
Averting his eyes from the cream-colored sheet of paper, my father gave me a sort of disapproving stare. "Is this some kind of a joke?"
I shrugged. I knew only as much as he did. So he read on:
"Dear Miss Taylor, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy headmistress."
Again, he turned to glare at me. One word emitted from his mouth. "Explain."
But what could I explain? "This letter only just arrived no more than twenty minutes ago, an owl was carrying it and he tapped on my window. I let him in and he dropped it on my pillow. Then I told him to come back tomorrow, since I had no idea what was going on."
My mother just stood there, glancing from me to the letter, back and forth, back and forth.
"Well," stated my father, "assuming that this is for, well, for real. you are certainly not going."
"It is real," my mother said quickly.
"Mum?" I questioned at the same time as my father dropped the letter onto the table.
She seemed somewhat ashamed as she told us, "My sister, Sarah, got one of those letters. She went off, with all those supplies listed on one of those other sheets of paper. Met someone there, never came home. Still don't know what's become of her."
Before I could say anything, however, my father stepped in. "Never came home? Must've been some place awful, teaching her such games. Well then Rainy, you're certainly not going. No, junior high school will suit you just fine."
I gaped at him. What about what I wanted? Didn't that count for something? "What if I want to go?" I asked in little more than a whisper.
It was his turn to gape. "Want to go? You haven't a choice in the matter, dearie. Think of how the public would see me with a, a, whatever you call it, as a daughter. Rather, they wouldn't know. But they would know I had a daughter, and why was she gone all the time? Completely ruin my image, sweetheart. Come now, let's finish this lovely dinner before it spoils."
And he sat back down, as if nothing had happened. I couldn't leave it at that. There was something inside of me, screaming to be let out. This was my chance. All my life, what had I been; the politician's daughter. I had sat through court hearings, gone to promotions, posed for the pictures, been quiet when there was something I wanted to say, made his happiness my own, done everything according to his rules. and what did I have for it? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I had a mother too scared to voice her opinions, a father who cared only about his image, and the life of the picture perfect girl holding the flowers. Who was I? The only way to find out, it seemed, was to get out. Get out of this magazine cover house, get out of the poser family, get out of this mundane, "Reader's Digest" cover story life. And this was my way out.
"I'm going." Not a yell, a scream, a shout, or a shriek. Not a whisper, a plead, a whimper, or some far off dream that would never come true. It was a statement of what was to be in the future, there was no space for questions or arguing. I said it calmly, as if stating that it was raining outside.
My father did not take it so lightly. "RAINY JENNIFER TAYLOR! SIT DOWN AND FINISH YOUR SUPPER!"
I shook my head. "I need to prepare my reply to send to the headmaster."
"What headmaster? There is no headmaster at the school you will be attending. A principal and a vice principal. No headmaster." He wouldn't even acknowledge what I was saying.
I grabbed the letter and other sheets of paper off the table and waved them directly in front of his face. "This is the school I'll be attending! Do you hear me? It has a headmaster, not a principal or vice principal, a headmaster! You'd better get used to the term, because I am going here!"
He banged his fist on the table. "If you dare leave this house to attend that school. you won't be coming back."
He didn't yell it. That is how I knew he meant it. But I had started something and I couldn't stop now. I had a free spirit. It sounds cheesy, I know, but how else can I describe it? It didn't matter what my father thought anymore; I didn't need his approval. This he knew. I could tell by the expression on his face that he had just given up his daughter; some unknown, spiritless creature without a face.
Through all this, my mother had been sitting in her seat, watching us intently. Just as she had been trained, she had kept her thoughts to herself and her mouth shut. Already I shuddered at the memory of being like that. I was a person who couldn't let go of her opinions so easily. and unsuited for a life of roleplaying somebody perfect.
It was decided. Without any talking, any exchange of words whatsoever, we had come to a decision that I was no longer a member of this household. The sad thing was, nobody seemed very emotional about it. My mother, sitting there in her accepting manner; and my father, wearing his poker face while thinking something along the lines of, 'she's going to regret this and come crying for us to take her back'. And myself, I was somewhat excited. Less than ten minutes as a free person, and I was already energized and ready to go. To live a real life, thanks very much.
"I'll need a ride, of course," I announced matter-of-factly, "to wherever I can buy supplies."
"With what money?" my father questioned. There was no emotion in those words.
"I have a little. But I don't have a car. A ride, please." Not begging, only a friendly inquiry.
For the first time in the entire argument, my mother spoke up. "I'll take you. Just tell me where and when, I'll have you there."
"Thanks," I told her, evacuating the premises to my room. Hopefully, the owl would be back the next morning and give me some clue as what to do. Where does one purchase a wand?
* * * * * *
'tap, tap, tap' This wasn't the sound of my alarm clock; too serene for such a blaring object. I opened my eyes.
There was the owl, just as regal looking as the day before. I grinned. It hadn't been a dream, and I was going to get some answers. However, upon opening the window, it came as a surprise to me when he dropped another envelope onto my pillow.
"What's this?" I asked him softly, picking it up slowly and opening it.
Another letter? Quietly, I began to read it out loud to myself: "Miss Taylor, I am personally aware of your current situation and would like to help you as much as possible in getting to Hogwarts. Please follow these instructions: Find The Leaky Cauldron, it is located in London. Upon entering, hand this letter to the nice man behind the counter, I will have contacted him previously to your meeting. He will let you into Diagon Alley, which is where you will purchase your supplies. Once inside Diagon Alley, proceed to the end of the road and enter Gringotts bank. If you show this letter to the goblin behind counter number four, he will take you to a vault. Take as much money as you feel will last you for a while, and then he will take you back. Now you may purchase your supplies. If no other opportunities present themselves, take a room at the Leaky Cauldron until you are to take the subway to King's Cross on September the 1st. Of course, you are under no obligation, but I encourage you to follow these instructions, and I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore, headmaster."
My eyes went from the letter to the owl. "How did he know?" I asked, as if the owl might answer. Instead, it ruffled it's feathers importantly and made its way towards the window.
"Oh yes, I'm sure you've other important business to pertain to, I'm sorry." And with that, I opened the window and he flew away. I watched him disappear into the distance for a little while, and then decided I wanted to leave right then and there.
This wizard business sounded interesting, and I was much too curious to just sit around the house all day.
* * * * * *
"Are you sure you needn't any money or anything?" my mother asked me again as I tried to bid her farewell outside the subway.
"I'll be fine, Mum."
"Listen Rainy, I'm not real happy about what your father did the other night. I'm sure that if we just sat down and talked this over rationally that he may reconsider. I'm sure he would give you a second chance if you would just let go of this magic nonsense."
My mouth dropped open and my eyes involuntarily opened extremely wide. Did my mother actually think that I would go for that?
"I know he seemed quite angry last night, but." she was cut off by me as I protested with the most antagonizing tone imaginable.
"Mum! I am going to be a witch! I don't want back in the family! I am going to Hogwarts even if it means I can never come back! Don't you hear me?"
"Of course I hear you dear, but really, think about what you're doing."
"I know what I'm doing! What I'm doing is getting out of this picture perfect lifestyle! I'm forgetting that I ever had to hide my own opinions because it would 'tarnish my father's image'! I'm leaving behind the magazine cover life that I once led and am starting anew! I'm going to be me and not 'the politician's daughter!" Why couldn't she see this? I thought she would support this, she knew what it was like to be a mindless drone. Had they brainwashed her even more than I had thought?
"Mum, don't you get it?"
She looked at me for a brief moment before forcing a wad of money into my hand. "It's the least I can do," she told me. "I was never so headstrong as you. Go on, be a magician. But you remember your father's words: You can never come back."
And with that, the had turned around and gotten onto the subway; leaving me completely alone in London and for the rest of my life.
* * * * * *
End chapter one. I hope you like Rainy. The next chapter is coming up as soon as I can write it!
1) To satisfy my imagination.
2)To write a marauder fic that people would hopefull enjoy reading.
Please, my goal is to create a piece of writing that people will be waiting on the edge of their seats for the next chapter. I do intend for this to be very long. This first chapter does not mention any of the marauders, and it is mostly about Rainy herself. But if you don't read it, you sorta miss out. But please, give it a chance.
I never let go of muggle music. True, I took in wizard music as well, but there was no replacing the Beatles or REM or Placebo. And it was this muggle music that I was listening to when there came a tapping at my window on a soon-to-be life altering July 31st.
Odd, I thought, turning to see what the cause of the noise was.
There, in my line of sight, was a regal looking owl clutching a cream- colored envelope in its claws.
Wait a second. Regal looking? But owls are owls, they can't look regal. Besides, it's bright and sunny as day out there. Because it is day. Owls are nocturnal. Huh? My thoughts were jumbled, and yet I still opened my window, allowing the owl to fly in and perch itself on my bed frame. The envelope landed softly on my dark green pillow. I picked it up, opened it, and let several sheets of unlined paper of the same color fall onto my bedspread.
The first sheet of paper I saw had landed face up. I stared down at it and read it outloud:
"Uniform: First year students will require: Three sets of plain work robes (black), one plain pointed hat (black) for day wear, one pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar), one winter cloak (black, silver fastenings). Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags."
I stared at the owl for a moment before continuing on.
"Course Books: All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling."
"Rainy! Come down for dinner, your father's home!"
My eyes shot up from the paper and wandered towards the door of my room. What was this letter thing? 'Magical Theory'? 'Standard Book of Spells'? Maybe I should bring it downstairs and see what my parents had to say about it. On the other hand, the owl was still sitting on the frame of my bed, looking impatient. Was it waiting for something?
"Can you come back tomorrow or something?" I asked it, not sure what I was expecting it to do, or why it would come back in the first place.
The owl flew out my still open window, apparently getting the message. How weird was that? I gathered the envelope and its contents and stuck them in my pocket to bring up later at dinner. My father most likely had other more important things to tell us about, and I still wasn't sure if I wanted to show them or not anyway.
* * * * * *
"I have an announcement to make," proclaimed my father, after finishing off his chicken fried steak.
My mother clapped and begged, "Oh, Sam, what is it?"
I cringed. Whenever my mother took this form of "faithful wife of politician", I couldn't stand it. But, well brought up politician's daughter that I was, I pressed on, "Tell us! Tell us!"
My father grinned. He was just loving this, I know. Who wouldn't? Having a wife and a daughter that were nearly brainwashed to be your model family; which basically means being seen and not heard, always hanging on your every word, and being perfectly normal. I hated it. And yet, I still went on with it. I suppose I hadn't discovered my true self yet. Or whatever balderdash they say.
"Well, you're eating dinner with a future candidate for this state's governor!"
"Oh Sam!" my mother jumped up and hugged him. This was big. My father had been trying to get into this position for years, before I was even born, I imagine. And now he was finally there.
Speaking of announcements, I had one of my own. But couldn't that wait?
"Rainy, dear, did you hear your father? He's running for governor!" my mother seemed to find it impossible for me to not be jumping up and down with joy.
"She's just radiating from the shock, Martha my dear." My father seemed to think the same. However, it still hadn't hit me what a fake household I was a member of.
"Oh," I started, not sure of how to voice what it was I needed to say. I wasn't even sure of what the letter was in the first place. I slipped my hand into the pocket of my bell bottoms, gripping the letter tightly. My curiosity won out over my unsureness, and I pulled the envelope and its contents out.
Mt father noticed this immediately, possibly because it wasn't hugging him that I was doing. "What's that, sweetheart?"
I handed him the sheets of paper and put the envelope back in my pocket.
He began to read out loud, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry- headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Surpreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)."
Averting his eyes from the cream-colored sheet of paper, my father gave me a sort of disapproving stare. "Is this some kind of a joke?"
I shrugged. I knew only as much as he did. So he read on:
"Dear Miss Taylor, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy headmistress."
Again, he turned to glare at me. One word emitted from his mouth. "Explain."
But what could I explain? "This letter only just arrived no more than twenty minutes ago, an owl was carrying it and he tapped on my window. I let him in and he dropped it on my pillow. Then I told him to come back tomorrow, since I had no idea what was going on."
My mother just stood there, glancing from me to the letter, back and forth, back and forth.
"Well," stated my father, "assuming that this is for, well, for real. you are certainly not going."
"It is real," my mother said quickly.
"Mum?" I questioned at the same time as my father dropped the letter onto the table.
She seemed somewhat ashamed as she told us, "My sister, Sarah, got one of those letters. She went off, with all those supplies listed on one of those other sheets of paper. Met someone there, never came home. Still don't know what's become of her."
Before I could say anything, however, my father stepped in. "Never came home? Must've been some place awful, teaching her such games. Well then Rainy, you're certainly not going. No, junior high school will suit you just fine."
I gaped at him. What about what I wanted? Didn't that count for something? "What if I want to go?" I asked in little more than a whisper.
It was his turn to gape. "Want to go? You haven't a choice in the matter, dearie. Think of how the public would see me with a, a, whatever you call it, as a daughter. Rather, they wouldn't know. But they would know I had a daughter, and why was she gone all the time? Completely ruin my image, sweetheart. Come now, let's finish this lovely dinner before it spoils."
And he sat back down, as if nothing had happened. I couldn't leave it at that. There was something inside of me, screaming to be let out. This was my chance. All my life, what had I been; the politician's daughter. I had sat through court hearings, gone to promotions, posed for the pictures, been quiet when there was something I wanted to say, made his happiness my own, done everything according to his rules. and what did I have for it? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I had a mother too scared to voice her opinions, a father who cared only about his image, and the life of the picture perfect girl holding the flowers. Who was I? The only way to find out, it seemed, was to get out. Get out of this magazine cover house, get out of the poser family, get out of this mundane, "Reader's Digest" cover story life. And this was my way out.
"I'm going." Not a yell, a scream, a shout, or a shriek. Not a whisper, a plead, a whimper, or some far off dream that would never come true. It was a statement of what was to be in the future, there was no space for questions or arguing. I said it calmly, as if stating that it was raining outside.
My father did not take it so lightly. "RAINY JENNIFER TAYLOR! SIT DOWN AND FINISH YOUR SUPPER!"
I shook my head. "I need to prepare my reply to send to the headmaster."
"What headmaster? There is no headmaster at the school you will be attending. A principal and a vice principal. No headmaster." He wouldn't even acknowledge what I was saying.
I grabbed the letter and other sheets of paper off the table and waved them directly in front of his face. "This is the school I'll be attending! Do you hear me? It has a headmaster, not a principal or vice principal, a headmaster! You'd better get used to the term, because I am going here!"
He banged his fist on the table. "If you dare leave this house to attend that school. you won't be coming back."
He didn't yell it. That is how I knew he meant it. But I had started something and I couldn't stop now. I had a free spirit. It sounds cheesy, I know, but how else can I describe it? It didn't matter what my father thought anymore; I didn't need his approval. This he knew. I could tell by the expression on his face that he had just given up his daughter; some unknown, spiritless creature without a face.
Through all this, my mother had been sitting in her seat, watching us intently. Just as she had been trained, she had kept her thoughts to herself and her mouth shut. Already I shuddered at the memory of being like that. I was a person who couldn't let go of her opinions so easily. and unsuited for a life of roleplaying somebody perfect.
It was decided. Without any talking, any exchange of words whatsoever, we had come to a decision that I was no longer a member of this household. The sad thing was, nobody seemed very emotional about it. My mother, sitting there in her accepting manner; and my father, wearing his poker face while thinking something along the lines of, 'she's going to regret this and come crying for us to take her back'. And myself, I was somewhat excited. Less than ten minutes as a free person, and I was already energized and ready to go. To live a real life, thanks very much.
"I'll need a ride, of course," I announced matter-of-factly, "to wherever I can buy supplies."
"With what money?" my father questioned. There was no emotion in those words.
"I have a little. But I don't have a car. A ride, please." Not begging, only a friendly inquiry.
For the first time in the entire argument, my mother spoke up. "I'll take you. Just tell me where and when, I'll have you there."
"Thanks," I told her, evacuating the premises to my room. Hopefully, the owl would be back the next morning and give me some clue as what to do. Where does one purchase a wand?
* * * * * *
'tap, tap, tap' This wasn't the sound of my alarm clock; too serene for such a blaring object. I opened my eyes.
There was the owl, just as regal looking as the day before. I grinned. It hadn't been a dream, and I was going to get some answers. However, upon opening the window, it came as a surprise to me when he dropped another envelope onto my pillow.
"What's this?" I asked him softly, picking it up slowly and opening it.
Another letter? Quietly, I began to read it out loud to myself: "Miss Taylor, I am personally aware of your current situation and would like to help you as much as possible in getting to Hogwarts. Please follow these instructions: Find The Leaky Cauldron, it is located in London. Upon entering, hand this letter to the nice man behind the counter, I will have contacted him previously to your meeting. He will let you into Diagon Alley, which is where you will purchase your supplies. Once inside Diagon Alley, proceed to the end of the road and enter Gringotts bank. If you show this letter to the goblin behind counter number four, he will take you to a vault. Take as much money as you feel will last you for a while, and then he will take you back. Now you may purchase your supplies. If no other opportunities present themselves, take a room at the Leaky Cauldron until you are to take the subway to King's Cross on September the 1st. Of course, you are under no obligation, but I encourage you to follow these instructions, and I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore, headmaster."
My eyes went from the letter to the owl. "How did he know?" I asked, as if the owl might answer. Instead, it ruffled it's feathers importantly and made its way towards the window.
"Oh yes, I'm sure you've other important business to pertain to, I'm sorry." And with that, I opened the window and he flew away. I watched him disappear into the distance for a little while, and then decided I wanted to leave right then and there.
This wizard business sounded interesting, and I was much too curious to just sit around the house all day.
* * * * * *
"Are you sure you needn't any money or anything?" my mother asked me again as I tried to bid her farewell outside the subway.
"I'll be fine, Mum."
"Listen Rainy, I'm not real happy about what your father did the other night. I'm sure that if we just sat down and talked this over rationally that he may reconsider. I'm sure he would give you a second chance if you would just let go of this magic nonsense."
My mouth dropped open and my eyes involuntarily opened extremely wide. Did my mother actually think that I would go for that?
"I know he seemed quite angry last night, but." she was cut off by me as I protested with the most antagonizing tone imaginable.
"Mum! I am going to be a witch! I don't want back in the family! I am going to Hogwarts even if it means I can never come back! Don't you hear me?"
"Of course I hear you dear, but really, think about what you're doing."
"I know what I'm doing! What I'm doing is getting out of this picture perfect lifestyle! I'm forgetting that I ever had to hide my own opinions because it would 'tarnish my father's image'! I'm leaving behind the magazine cover life that I once led and am starting anew! I'm going to be me and not 'the politician's daughter!" Why couldn't she see this? I thought she would support this, she knew what it was like to be a mindless drone. Had they brainwashed her even more than I had thought?
"Mum, don't you get it?"
She looked at me for a brief moment before forcing a wad of money into my hand. "It's the least I can do," she told me. "I was never so headstrong as you. Go on, be a magician. But you remember your father's words: You can never come back."
And with that, the had turned around and gotten onto the subway; leaving me completely alone in London and for the rest of my life.
* * * * * *
End chapter one. I hope you like Rainy. The next chapter is coming up as soon as I can write it!