Through the Glass
Severity
Dis•claim•er (dîs-klâ'mer) n.
2. Law A renunciation of one's right of claim.
I, the author of this humble piece of fan fiction, does not own the world or characters that are playing in it. Nope. The whole thing belongs to J.K. Rowling. The only thing I could possibly lay claims to is Raven Banks (and other various OC) but since they're still in Rowling's world, it's not relevant. I don't make money off one word, sentence, paragraph, page, chapter, or the entire story. Please be nice- don't sue (that should be on a bumper sticker).
Prologue
Visions.
The definition of vision is as varied as the individuals who claim to experience such things. She, however, liked to keep things simple. Down to a single line that explained each interpretation in a broad context. Thus, she thought of vision as something that is or has been seen.
Most people don't stop to think twice about their vision. They have no need to question whatever they see. As in the adage, seeing is believing. It's a human response; pre conditioned, and carried out without recognition or appreciation.
Unless something is wrong.
When human beings lose, or never had, the ability to see their mind compensates for that loss. The other senses grow sharper. Smell, touch, taste, and hearing- these become the end all and be all of the world. The only things they can rely upon.
There are also cases of distorted perception. When a person cannot distinguish the depth of their sight. A car four stories below a window, ends up looking like a matchbox children's toy a few inches away. Or color blindness, when red is a shade of gray. A world of muted colors that still looks beautiful to behold.
These were physical, muggle, concepts of vision. The retina, the iris, the wiring of the brain- all factors in medical terms of working or broken. If there is something off with sight, a person wears spectacles. If they are unable to see at all, they use a cane.
They were clear-cut, defined solutions to a problem.
But when the problem is not with the eyes or the brain, rather the nature of the sight itself, there is no solution. Not in the muggle world, and not in the wizard world either.
At first, her muggle parents had been confused by the things she claimed to see. After a few years, when she was still a little girl, they attributed the stories as a child with an over active imagination.
But when the things she saw began coming true, they realized there was something very off with Raven.
They took her to doctors, psychologists, and specialists. One after another, test after test. Needles, CAT scans, inkblots, Freudian therapy, hypnosis- and none of it offered any explanation. By the time the girl was ten she was a scientific anomaly, a percentage off the normal curve of the ability of the human species.
This girl, who could see through the very fabric of time and space, was a psychic phenomenon. Her senses seemed to be in a different reality all together. They called it a gift. But Raven and her parents never thought of it as a gift. It was, to her small family, a curse.
Night terrors and waking terrors plagued her. A touch from any person, place, or thing could trigger these visions. The stronger the emotional weight, the stronger they came at her. And there were two kinds of imprints on a soul- the good and the very, very, bad.
It drove the outgoing child into a self-imposed exile. She locked herself away in a room, and avoided anything that was unfamiliar to her. It was a very lonely existence, with only movies and books to take her outside of the world she found herself in. Her parents were even weary of contact, since they didn't know if such a simple thing as a hug would cause their child's eyes to roll back and her breathing to quicken, the clear signs of a trance.
So it was, when a small brown owl delivered the letter- they held out hope for the first time that perhaps there was a cure. After all, a world of magic meant miracles that no normal muggle could ever produce. They were ecstatic, nearly in tears. Quickly arranging a meeting with the man whose signature had brought them the first joy in nearly eight years.
It was, unfortunately, not the miracle they had waited for.
The kind old wizard had indeed visited. He had listened patiently to two tearful parents as they told him of their child's gift. He had sat back on the flower print sofa and sucked on lemon drops while they recounted every thing they had managed to discover through science, history, and even religion.
At the end of the long story, he asked if he could send her to a wizarding hospital for evaluation. Although he saw the shimmer in her parent's eyes, he cautioned against building false dreams. Despite his advice, they paid no head. And so, it was a very crushing blow when the med wizards told her parents the same thing the Muggle doctors had said.
There is no way to stop the visions.
Although they could better explain her condition, there was no known way to alleviate it. The kind old wizard with the pension for candy had insisted that she still be given an education on the ways of his world. It was decided by her parents that for her own safety, she be kept permanently admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Tutored through glass, visited through glass, and living her life on the safe side of the mirror.
And so, eleven-year-old Raven Banks came to know of the world through books. Forever looking through the glass.