Warning: some mild language.
Let Me Be Chapter 1 Send Off By Wittchway
It was the last look my uncle ever gave me, it was a look to tell me in that one moment in time he finally understood who I was, what I was. I silently thanked him for not questioning it, he simply nodded and turned to walk away. He turned back a moment later pulling his wallet and extracted a few pound pressing them into the palm of my hand, with one finger tip he tilted my chin up to face him, "be careful" he muttered and walked away. I watched him walk through the double doors of the train station knowing I would never see him again. I can't imagine what he'll tell my aunt and cousin or even the school when they come calling and they will come calling.
I just hope that my uncle can lie to them in a justifying way. Lie long enough that will give me time to escape, I will pray that some massive manhunt doesn't take place and they just let me be. I need this last summer, the summer before my seventh year, the summer before Voldemort and I finally battle it out.to the death, his or mine. Somehow I think uncle Vernon will accomplish this as a last parting gift, not because he doesn't want me in his families life anymore, but because he knows what's coming in the next few months. Of course I mean Voldemort, but also I mean their deaths, he knows as well as I do that Voldemort will kill all remaining family I have.
He knows his time, as well as aunt Petunia's and Dudley's time is limited. My leaving won't help him and I hope that he don't think it will. I don't wish his death nor my aunts, I wish them well and I hope in this last moment before the final battle begins that they both find some happiness that I inadvertently interrupted arriving on their doorstep all those years ago.
So really that's why I'm leaving, while they have their last moment I need my last moment. I need silence. Inter peace, a calm meditation through my mind. I need to be ok personally with what I'm about to do once the war gains to the point of no turn back. I need to be ok with the fact that I will kill a dark Lord who has killed many. That I will soon have death on my own hands.
I stood in the train station, fresh from my 6th year of school, my owl by my side, trunk of wizard books and extra ingredients for potion making, most of which I would not need this summer. I hauled the items to a long- term locker, knelling down to take the few items I would need from the trunk. I hadn't prepared for my travel, of course I had an inkling of an idea where I was going. But mostly it was in search of peace of mind.
My brain was buzzing with constant thoughts of Voldemort, with Dumbledore, with Sirius still on the run, with Percy Weasley and Remus Lupin missing. The war was making me a different person, a person I might not have become otherwise. I thought it would go away, but it kept me awake nights, it would jolt my day at random moments, it cause me to drift out in mid thought or in the middle of my studies. I had thought really for years that this whole mess with Voldemort, my parent's death, with me being the boy who lived, was my fault. I know it wasn't but it's hard to get on with your life when it's always there lurking around.
It was last year shortly before Christmas break when this realization had hit me. I was in history of magic, (a class that gave me a lot of time to think) when I knocked over my ink well. It had rolled off my desk shattering on the floor, as I bent over the desk to take a look, it struck me how the ink looked like Voldemort. It suddenly occurred to me I knew nothing about Voldemort, or why he was after me or my parents, or what kind of life they had prior to me.
I wrote questions the remaining of the class to which I had every intention of presenting to Dumbledore. The thing is after class I went to Dumbledore's office to go over what would become my answers, but he did not answer them. He refused me in the polite way that he does that, in that coy way of talking to a child, which I assume he had lots of practice in. He replied in half responds of which I already knew the answers to. I didn't press him for more because I knew it wasn't coming but if he wasn't going to give me my answer and give me the truth, I would not be his golden boy any longer.
As I walked away from his office, as I headed back toward the common rooms my anger rose. Dumbledore had assumed long ago I would be on his side, whether he thought I would want revenge on my parent's death, or he assumed because my parents had been on his side, I don't know. What I do know is that I was lacking in the information department.
I pressed Herminone for answer as she always seemed to have them but she did not. I pressed Ron and for someone who lived in the wizard world his whole life, he lacked a surprising amount of information. I wrote a letter to my Godfather, I got some answers of small question I could have lived with out: like where did we live? Where were my parents buried?
But you see these weren't the important questions: why was this happening? Was an important question. Why me, why my parents? Why did I live when they did not? Is my wand implement in the defeat of Voldemort? And if so why?
Then there were the darker questions, questions of what if's. What if had agreed to join Voldemort back in his first year? Which of course led to the question what if he had let the sorting hat go with it's instinct and put him in Slytherin house?
No don't go getting ideas that I'm going all evil or anything along that line. But ultimately my goal this summer is to get questions answered and my families home was a good place as any to start with the answers.
So today when I walked off the train I knew in my heart of hearts I was not returning to another school until I had the answers I desired. If anything was to happen to me in this time I blame Dumbledore from hiding what is my fate from me. From hiding a life I have every right to know about.
So I packed clothes and toiletries in my bag, my invisible cloak, my wand, parchment and quills. The penknife Sirius had given me in my fourth year. I opened Hedwig's cage she settled by my side and shoved the cage in the locker. Tied the key around my neck, tied the bag of galleons and what little muggle money I had in a loop in my bag so I would not lose it. Lifted Hedwig to my forearm and I walked from the train station.
Lets not let go of the dramatics, yes I looked back, hell I even looked for my uncle in the parking lot to see if he was by chance lurking. He was not, Hedwig took flight and I headed toward muggle London, hopefully toward a bookshop with good maps, I was going to find Godrics Hollow. I was going to return to my family home.
TBC
Let Me Be Chapter 1 Send Off By Wittchway
It was the last look my uncle ever gave me, it was a look to tell me in that one moment in time he finally understood who I was, what I was. I silently thanked him for not questioning it, he simply nodded and turned to walk away. He turned back a moment later pulling his wallet and extracted a few pound pressing them into the palm of my hand, with one finger tip he tilted my chin up to face him, "be careful" he muttered and walked away. I watched him walk through the double doors of the train station knowing I would never see him again. I can't imagine what he'll tell my aunt and cousin or even the school when they come calling and they will come calling.
I just hope that my uncle can lie to them in a justifying way. Lie long enough that will give me time to escape, I will pray that some massive manhunt doesn't take place and they just let me be. I need this last summer, the summer before my seventh year, the summer before Voldemort and I finally battle it out.to the death, his or mine. Somehow I think uncle Vernon will accomplish this as a last parting gift, not because he doesn't want me in his families life anymore, but because he knows what's coming in the next few months. Of course I mean Voldemort, but also I mean their deaths, he knows as well as I do that Voldemort will kill all remaining family I have.
He knows his time, as well as aunt Petunia's and Dudley's time is limited. My leaving won't help him and I hope that he don't think it will. I don't wish his death nor my aunts, I wish them well and I hope in this last moment before the final battle begins that they both find some happiness that I inadvertently interrupted arriving on their doorstep all those years ago.
So really that's why I'm leaving, while they have their last moment I need my last moment. I need silence. Inter peace, a calm meditation through my mind. I need to be ok personally with what I'm about to do once the war gains to the point of no turn back. I need to be ok with the fact that I will kill a dark Lord who has killed many. That I will soon have death on my own hands.
I stood in the train station, fresh from my 6th year of school, my owl by my side, trunk of wizard books and extra ingredients for potion making, most of which I would not need this summer. I hauled the items to a long- term locker, knelling down to take the few items I would need from the trunk. I hadn't prepared for my travel, of course I had an inkling of an idea where I was going. But mostly it was in search of peace of mind.
My brain was buzzing with constant thoughts of Voldemort, with Dumbledore, with Sirius still on the run, with Percy Weasley and Remus Lupin missing. The war was making me a different person, a person I might not have become otherwise. I thought it would go away, but it kept me awake nights, it would jolt my day at random moments, it cause me to drift out in mid thought or in the middle of my studies. I had thought really for years that this whole mess with Voldemort, my parent's death, with me being the boy who lived, was my fault. I know it wasn't but it's hard to get on with your life when it's always there lurking around.
It was last year shortly before Christmas break when this realization had hit me. I was in history of magic, (a class that gave me a lot of time to think) when I knocked over my ink well. It had rolled off my desk shattering on the floor, as I bent over the desk to take a look, it struck me how the ink looked like Voldemort. It suddenly occurred to me I knew nothing about Voldemort, or why he was after me or my parents, or what kind of life they had prior to me.
I wrote questions the remaining of the class to which I had every intention of presenting to Dumbledore. The thing is after class I went to Dumbledore's office to go over what would become my answers, but he did not answer them. He refused me in the polite way that he does that, in that coy way of talking to a child, which I assume he had lots of practice in. He replied in half responds of which I already knew the answers to. I didn't press him for more because I knew it wasn't coming but if he wasn't going to give me my answer and give me the truth, I would not be his golden boy any longer.
As I walked away from his office, as I headed back toward the common rooms my anger rose. Dumbledore had assumed long ago I would be on his side, whether he thought I would want revenge on my parent's death, or he assumed because my parents had been on his side, I don't know. What I do know is that I was lacking in the information department.
I pressed Herminone for answer as she always seemed to have them but she did not. I pressed Ron and for someone who lived in the wizard world his whole life, he lacked a surprising amount of information. I wrote a letter to my Godfather, I got some answers of small question I could have lived with out: like where did we live? Where were my parents buried?
But you see these weren't the important questions: why was this happening? Was an important question. Why me, why my parents? Why did I live when they did not? Is my wand implement in the defeat of Voldemort? And if so why?
Then there were the darker questions, questions of what if's. What if had agreed to join Voldemort back in his first year? Which of course led to the question what if he had let the sorting hat go with it's instinct and put him in Slytherin house?
No don't go getting ideas that I'm going all evil or anything along that line. But ultimately my goal this summer is to get questions answered and my families home was a good place as any to start with the answers.
So today when I walked off the train I knew in my heart of hearts I was not returning to another school until I had the answers I desired. If anything was to happen to me in this time I blame Dumbledore from hiding what is my fate from me. From hiding a life I have every right to know about.
So I packed clothes and toiletries in my bag, my invisible cloak, my wand, parchment and quills. The penknife Sirius had given me in my fourth year. I opened Hedwig's cage she settled by my side and shoved the cage in the locker. Tied the key around my neck, tied the bag of galleons and what little muggle money I had in a loop in my bag so I would not lose it. Lifted Hedwig to my forearm and I walked from the train station.
Lets not let go of the dramatics, yes I looked back, hell I even looked for my uncle in the parking lot to see if he was by chance lurking. He was not, Hedwig took flight and I headed toward muggle London, hopefully toward a bookshop with good maps, I was going to find Godrics Hollow. I was going to return to my family home.
TBC