Eloise
i. primary recording

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My name is Eloise, do you remember me? (Pause) I didn't really expect so, honestly. It must have been because I was whisked away from Hogwarts the beginning of my fifth year. (Pause) Or… or, because I was a bit of the wallflower in school. So many of the students at Hogwarts had such distinct personalities, that the idea of me, a perfectly average witch, tended to fade at the edges. I am sure if you question the others in my class, or even my house, they will answer with a certain vagueness, sensing some sort of familiarity but not grasping it. Alternately, after a few minutes of thought, they might brighten up considerably and laugh robustly: Oh, Eloise Midgen. Hufflepuff, right? Tried to curse off her acne and instead lost her nose? Madam Pomfrey had to fix her up straight, though I think her nose is a little crooked 'cause of it… And, somehow, the conversation would move on to something else entirely.

(Loud meowing) Nicholas, shh, I'm busy. (Voice faint. Silence. Meowing again, more insistent. Voice again, indistinct.) Nic, can you wait for your dinner? –Oh, don't get on my desk, you needy cat – NIC! The recorder, don't—(Crashing sound, soft static, voice still indistinct) For the love of God! That was new! Go, Nic!

Sorry 'bout that; Nicholas Flamel, my cat, is a devilish creature at times.

I should probably explain what I'm doing. See, I've never been much for journals. At school, there was risk of people rummaging through my things. Admittedly, I did have bad acne then and certain members of our lovely community enjoyed reminding of that particular fact. Plus, there would have been that off-chance that my mother would have found it. She, upon reading my then adolescent, angst-consumed thoughts, would have shipped me promptly to the mental facilities at St. Mungo's for mind therapy. Both situations would have proved embarrassing.

My situation is a bit different now. It is the new century now – February 2nd, 2000. It's been nearly two years since an apocalyptic future was averted… I think. My memory is a bit fuzzy. I am currently employed by the British Library, cataloguing and putting books away and just generally doing what I am told. It is an interesting job and there are many fascinating pieces of literature. I apologise for being vague; yes, I am a librarian and no, I'm not a frumpy spinster yet, though I do have a cat. Still, even in such a bustling city, life is a little lonely for me and talking to this audio recorder is rather relaxing. Plus, I can hardly rewind and re-tape what I'm saying – it takes a lot more effort than when I write, where I would be tempted to erase my words and make them more appropriate.

(Pause, deep breath) No, I'm not living in the Wizarding World. I'm a Muggle now, but I don't consider myself in that insulting term; I am a normal, human being.

As I mentioned before, I was whisked away from Hogwarts the beginning of my fifth year. To put in more understandable terms, I was a year below Harry Potter and his class. My family, you could say, was hard-core Pureblood, but the kind that knew the normal, err, I mean Muggle world. Pa, a Healer, specialised in non-traditional methods, or non-magical methods.

In any case, fearful of You-Know-Who (Voice quiets a little at the name), our family and many relatives relocated from a spacious joint-family house in the Wizarding countryside to a more crowded flat in London until we adjusted to society and got jobs to get flats of our own. Pa became a physician. Strange, isn't it? In the beginning I abhorred it. I wanted to go to Diagon Alley and look through the wicked bookstores and apothecaries. I wanted to cast spells and brew potions in Hogwarts. I was a perpetually furious fifteen-year-old, declaring to my aunts and uncles that they were cowards and needed to go back! Face the danger!

Needless to say, I was just grounded a lot. This didn't do much, as I still had my novels and could play Solitaire on our gigantic computer.

It wasn't to say that we stopped using magic. Mum used it to tidy the house. Gramps couldn't adapt to the less-exciting chess board and loved to scare the bloody hell out of his challengers with the Wizarding Chess pieces. He covered things over by saying micro-robots controlled the pieces and strangely, his partners always accepted it. I still am surprised that the Department of Muggle Relations or whatever the hell they call it didn't jump in then.

And yes, magic still was a solid part of my education. Wrinkly great-great-aunt Mildred was my tutor. She had been the Arithmancy Professor at Hogwarts, before Vector, and still was dreadfully sharp in old age. I drifted between intense dislike and uneasy amiability with her. I did learn a lot though – I finished the course materials through seventh year and some advanced topics in the two following years. But I did other important things.

I received my driver's license. I voted in my first election last year, when I turned eighteen. I applied for my first job around the time we moved here, working as a barista in this dank, but somehow avant-garde, coffee shop. Last year, I got my job with the British Library. Needless to say, my identification papers said I was twenty rather than eighteen. Since I was a fast learner, age didn't really matter.

Oh, yeah, the War occurred in the Wizarding World. And ended.

May, 1998. Breakfast. Mum quietly mentioned that Hogwarts had been virtually demolished, but Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who with this special Elder Wand that was his own, but wasn't. And many had died and Kingsley Shacklebolt was the new Minister of Magic.

She had to repeat another time, a decibel louder for her dearly deaf older brother, Edward.

Pa looked up, seeming relieved. He asked who told her. Mum replied that Aleythia Vector had owled her. Professor Vector was a good friend of the family, see.

Then Gramps complained that the toast was too dry and he needed another piece. The conversation was ended.

(Pause, soft static) So there's that. How I am here today. A witch in the Muggle World. A little lonely, but still happy and doing well enough. Frankly, I didn't have many friends at Hogwarts other than Aleythia, so I don't mind as much not being near anything magic-related and I haven't tried to go back. (Sad silence, mumble) Go back to what..?

(Dinging noise in background) My banana bread must be done, now. I think I'll take a break. All this talking is making me think too much. (Loud meowing. Eloise's voice sounds distracted) Besides, Nicholas has to be fed. Until then.

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Author's Note: I know I shouldn't be writing other fics when I have a few in the works, but I really took to Eloise somehow. The idea of maybe a Plain Jane who is just average, nothing particularly special, and just likes the way she is. There will be other Harry Potter characters of course, later. Do feel free to leave your thoughts, comments, and encouragement. :)

As a side note, I have received several messages to continue Trials, the Lavender story, so I am currently working on that chapter. Thanks for the wait!