The Potential Seer

Ryanna Taylor always knew she would lead an interesting life. She'd dreamt about it since as far back as she could remember. Her dreams would show her owls in windows, fires that would appear from nowhere, flying without wings, moving objects without her hands, and knowing things that would happen in the future.

At the age of two, Ryanna's parents began to notice that their daughter was different from other children; not physically, but mentally. When she was angry, things around her would begin to burn or melt; items that were too high for her to reach, would float into her hands; and on rare occasions, they would find her in different places knowing that they had put her to bed.

It wasn't until her mother found her asleep on the roof of their home that they knew something needed to be done to find out why these things were happening.

Her father, William, knew some of what she could do was attributed to his family's history. He remembered from his childhood a man of unusual talents who would visit with his father from time to time. Like his father, he had an interesting wardrobe of colorful robes and hats. His mother did not find their wardrobe the least bit odd nor did she find it odd that his father carried a wand. When his parents felt he was old enough, they told him that his father was a wizard, an Auror to be exact, which was someone who seeks out and captures bad witches and wizards. His father taught him about the wizarding world, including what to look for in any of his children to see if they had magical abilities, for he did not possess the talents to be a wizard himself.

When his parents were suddenly murdered a few months before the birth of his daughter, it was the older man whom he knew as Albus Dumbledore, who comforted him and his wife, Helena, and told him that if he needed help with anything to contact him.

Using the way his father taught him to correspond in the wizarding world, William took quill in hand and began to write.

Dear Albus,

You once mentioned to me that if I needed your help on anything, that I was to contact you.

At the time I met you at my parents' funeral, my wife and I were expecting a child. Our daughter, Ryanna, is now two and progressing like a normal child should, but we are concerned that she is showing signs of talents we do not understand.

My father explained how I did not possess the talents to be trained as a wizard, but did his best to try to help me understand the signs in case any of my children may have the talent. However, some of the things that my daughter can do seem to be within the realm of witchcraft, but after reading my father's books, it is possible that she may be a Seer as well, but I am not positive of it.

I was wondering if you would be able to help Helena and I figure out exactly how we can help our daughter control what she can do.

Hope to hear from you soon,

William

A week later, while sitting in his study looking over his lecture notes, a chocolate colored owl was at his window tapping on the glass with its beak. Rushing to the window, he opened it and allowed the bird to fly in and perch itself on the back of a chair, dropping a rolled piece of parchment on his desk as it did. "Helena?" he yelled, "Helena, come quickly. It's here!"

Helena Taylor, a slender woman with auburn hair and hazel eyes, hurried into the room, wiping her hands on a dishrag as she was preparing dinner. "What is it, William? You'll wake Ryanna. Are you just going to let it sit on your desk or are you going to open it?"

"Right," he sighed as he picked it up and opened it.

Dear William;

I was hoping that you would write me to tell me this. This is exciting news,but also troubling, as we do not show that your daughter is on our rolls when it is time for her to attend, and since you are not equipped to handle such things.

I would be honored to visit you and see if your daughter truly possesses the talents you state that she has, and if so, be trained to control them.

I shall pay a visit to your home on 1 August, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon,as I have business to attend to in London.

Yours Most Sincerely,

Albus

The next day at exactly three o'clock, a tall man with a long beard wearing lavender colored robes, thin wire spectacles, and a pointed hat walked up the stone covered path to the front door of a modest house in Oxfordshire, and rang the bell. Moments later, William slowly opened the door and gazed at the man whom his father knew as friend.

"Good afternoon, William," he said softly. "I hope I did not catch you at an inopportune time."

"Not at all, Professor Dumbledore," William said excitedly. "Helena was just preparing tea. Please, come in."

"Thank you."

Dumbledore walked in and followed William into the lounge and sat down. Helena walked in carrying a tray with tea and placed it on the table. When she looked up at the older man, she was taken aback by his appearance.

"Hello, again, Helena."

"Good afternoon, Professor," she smiled politely. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'll go get Ryanna."

"Would you like some tea, Professor?" William asked.

"That would be lovely," Dumbledore replied. "So, tell me more about your daughter."

"Well, there's quite a bit to tell. She has a knack for breaking glasses when she gets hurt or upset. If there's something she wants and it's out of reach, she'll have it in the air and landing in front of her within a minute,and we can't forget the little fires that start when she's angry. We actually had a little spark in her room last night when she woke up screaming. I know there's more, but my thoughts escape me at the moment."

"Well, my thoughts are completely intact," Helena broke in as she returned to the lounge with her daughter in her arms. "She's ruined bedding, drapes, and furniture with these 'little sparks' that keep popping up; and I can't tell you how many glasses, dishes, and mirrors have shattered. We haven't got a single mirror in the house except for the lavatory."

She sat Ryanna on the floor in front of Dumbledore.

The little girl in a blue jumper with her auburn hair in pigtails stood up and looked at the man in front of her, smiled, then walked towards him, her arms outstretched.

"She's never done that before," William said. "Except with us; it's like she knows who to trust and who not to."

"She's quite a bright girl for her age," Dumbledore commented, picking her up and looking at her eyes.

There was nothing special about them. They were not of an odd color or shape. They were deep blue and wide with curiosity. He knew that a person's eyes have the potential to be windows to the mind. They could show the darkest or happiest memory, or whether a person is truthful or not. This was one of his many gifts, and he knew that this could be one of her specialties when she was older.

"She does have some...unique talents, there's no doubt about that. They seem to have made themselves known before their time. This is quite unusual. A child of her age does not have the ability to comprehend the extent of these abilities."

"Well, we knew that," Helena said flatly. "The question is what do we do?"

"Given the times that our world is facing, I would advise to keep her close. If the wrong sort of wizard were to find our about her, the results would be disastrous."

"Wrong sort of wizard?" she said. "I'm sorry, Professor, but all this is new to me. I understood when William explained that he's from a family of wizards. I've always been pretty open minded and I was prepared when he said that our children may end up being like his family. But this is just too unbelievable."

"How can we protect her?" William asked. He understood the seriousness of the situation. "Isn't there a potion or spell that can be..."

"William, this is a natural talent that she has," Dumbledore replied. "There is no spell or potion that can bind her gifts and even if there was, I would advise against it. You wouldn't find a witch or wizard that would do it. Even though she's too young to understand what she can do, it is up to you and your wife, as her parents, to help her learn both the good and bad of her gifts. Some of your father's books should help you, if they don't, you can contact me."

Dumbledore placed the little girl on the floor and stood. "I do need to warn you; as she gets older and her gifts grow, so will her ability to control them. When she is of age, I will make sure that she attends a school that can help her with finding her place. I would like to come back and see her if I could; on her birthday, perhaps?"

"Yes, of course," William said. "You can come back every year if it would keep her from burning the house down."

"I have a feeling you won't have that problem."

Dumbledore shook William's hand. "Until next time."

He then gave the slightest of nods to Helena who was holding Ryanna in her arms. "Keep her safe, Helena. You can help her control what she can do."

"Thank you, Professor," she smiled.

Ryanna reached out to the bearded man and smiled. He took her tiny hand and shook it. "Good bye, Ryanna. Keep your parents safe. I'll see you again."

He smiled at her, gave a quick wink of his eye, and headed down the walk.

A Visit from Mr. Albus

Following that meeting, Ryanna and her family would receive a visit on her birthday regularly from the man she would come to know as Mr. Albus. Every year, he would arrive after her party guests had left. He would hold her, look at her, and ask her parents questions about what she had done and what they were doing to help her. Sometimes, the reports were not pleasant to hear; such as the time she caused the motor on the lawn mower to explode when she wanted to play in the yard at the same time her father wanted to cut it.

Dumbledore made a special visit one winter's night after her father noticed that she hadn't been sleeping.

He arrived a few days before Christmas and William greeted him and led him into the lounge, which was colorfully decorated with red, green, and gold ribbons. The tree strung with white lights and ornaments.

"We're glad that you're here, Albus," William said. "We're at our wits end with this. Ryanna hasn't been sleeping now for days. Her teachers are concerned since odd things have been happening during class. She's started coloring pictures with her hands and she's been saying that she dreams of owls and brooms. I was about to go as far as to try my hand at mixing up a sleeping draft."

"Her teacher called before Christmas break," Helena broke in. "She said a girl her age shouldn't be lying."

"Owls and brooms you say?" Dumbledore said curiously.

"Yes," Helena replied. "You haven't been saying anything to her about those, have you, Albus?"

"Of course not," he said. "When have I had the opportunity? Might I be able to see her?"

"Of course," William replied. "She's in her room. We asked her to try and sleep."

"She's afraid to," Helena interrupted again. "Sleep, I mean. She said that there's more to her dreams than owls and brooms."

"I see," Albus replied. "Let me have a go at finding out what's troubling her."

"Thank you," William said as Albus walked upstairs. "It's the second door on the left."

Ryanna lay in bed looking up at the ceiling trying to hold on to the last thought in her head when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, Mr. Albus."

The door opened and Mr. Albus walked in, allowing a small sliver of light from the hallway to enter before shutting the door. "Good evening, Ryanna."

"Hello," she smiled.

"How did you know it was me at the door?"

"I don't know," she said as she set up. "I just knew."

"I see," he said. "May I sit down?"

"Yes, please do."

Mr. Albus sat down beside the little girl and rested his hand on the bed. "Your mother and father tell me that you haven't been sleeping."

"No, I haven't," she replied." I don't know why, really. I think it's because of the dreams I've been having."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Well, Mummy got a call from my teacher about something I was telling my friends. It was about a dream I had. She said that I made it up and I shouldn't be lying."

"What was the dream about?"

"Owls."

"Owls?"

She nodded. "It's the same one I've always had. I always dream that I'm sitting on my bed and an owl comes to sit on my windowsill. It has something in its claw, but I don't know what it is."

"I see," he said. "What else do you dream about?"

"I dream about flying all the time," she said cheerfully. "And about fires, and a castle, and about the things that will happen to me when I'm older."

"What kind of things?"

"People that I'll meet. They're dressed like you sometimes. I see myself teaching like Daddy and flying on a broom."

"Interesting . . ." Mr. Albus said. "Tell me, have you been able to do things that your friends couldn't do?"

"Yes, loads of things," she said excitedly. " I stopped a ball in the air when Mark Hornsby threw it at me, and when my friend Alice was teasing Margaret about her classes, her hair caught fire. Oh! I can talk to people in my head, too."

"Really?"

"Yes," she nodded. "There's Molly, she lives in Surrey, Abby is in Leeds, Brian's and Sheffield, and Thomas is in London."

"When do you talk to them?"

"At night mostly," she said. "They're all good to know. Brian is teaching the Welsh and Thomas is teaching the Latin."

"I see," he sighed. "Ryanna, you have some very special gifts and you should be careful about what you do with them. Tell me, do you write down your dreams?"

She shook her head. "I remember most of them."

"Why don't you try?" Dumbledore replied as he reached into his cloak and removed from it a leather-bound book. "Use this to write them down."

She took the book from him, looked up at his face, and smiled. "Thank you."

She couldn't help but look in his eyes, a clear almost mirror like blue.

She may just be a seer, after all. She heard his voice echo in her mind.

"Mr. Albus? What's a seer?" she yawned.

"Where did you hear that?"

"You were just talking about it," she said. "But, you didn't move..."

"That's correct, Ryanna," he said. "A Seer is something I'll explain at another time. Right now, you should try to get some sleep. All right?"

"Okay," she said as she sank under the blankets and her head came to rest on the pillow.

Mr. Albus adjusted her covers and headed for the door.

"Mr. Albus?" She said softly.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me sleep," she yawned again.

"You're quite welcome, Ryanna. Goodnight."

"Good night..." she whispered as she pulled her covers up to her neck. "Mr...Al..."

As he opened the door and walked out, he took one last look at the young girl. He knew that she would have to mature before she should have to, and with the right guidance, she could be a powerful seer.

Before leaving, he stressed to her parents that they ask her about the people she is able to talk to in her head , and to help her write down her dreams.