The Beginning of Things
A quiet country town. For the most part the village seems to be well to do. Well kept- houses with clean and tidy gardens. People passing between them sometimes smiling as they recognized other people also out and about early on this rather lovely day. The only sound permeating the air is the sound of the occasional lawn mower or car driving through. Further up the village however is a different scene. Here a house sits, squalor like, its windows dark and foreboding. An old car sits in its driveway looking as out of place in front of such a dark house as the house itself looks in the village. Suddenly the door opens and a young boy runs out. His hair is long and slightly greasy. He has a look of general unkempt about him, wearing a strange grey smock and an over-sized coat. In his fist a letter is clutched extremely tightly.
The boy dashes down an alleyway, practically skipping every other step. A huge grin lights up his face, looking strangely unnatural, like an expression not worn very often. He dashes round the corner and starts to speed towards a lovely looking house towards the end of the road. A CRACK sounds through the air.
The boy skids to a halt and stares at the small, old man that has appeared under an oak tree right in front of him. The small man is wearing a long flowing cloak which he is trying to adjust. Finally it sits to his satisfaction and suddenly the man notices the bedraggled boy staring at him no more then three feet away. For a moment the man hesitates his hand straying towards his pocket before he spies the letter clutched in the boys hand. Relaxing the small man gives a knowing nod and a cheerful wink before striding off towards the same house the boy was heading to. The boy watches as the small man pulls a letter out of his pocket, identical to the one he is holding. The boy hugs himself in excitement and dances on the spot.
Inside the house breakfast is commencing. Two girls, one smaller then the other, sit around a dining room table. The older girl has brown hair and rather horse-ish features. The other is small, dainty and pretty with brilliant auburn hair and startling green eyes. They are chatting animatedly about inconsequential things. Their mother is just inside the kitchen, bringing out a stack load of pancakes followed by their father who is holding syrups and juice. A knock sounds at the door.
The father puts the syrup and juice on the table and walks to the door. He re-enters the dining room with a rather bemused look on his face, followed by the short man. "Er, Rose?" he says. "This man says that he is here to talk to us about Lily. He says she has been given a place at his school". The mother and smallest daughter look up in surprise.
"Me?" the small girl asks. Her mother places a quieting hand upon the girls shoulder as she asks.
"What do you mean Lily has a place at your school? We didn't apply".
"Well" says the small man, hurrying forward, with a voice that could only be called squeaky "Ms Evans has in fact been down on our list since the very moment she was born".
"How is that possible?" asks the father. "What school exactly are you from?"
"I sir" says the small man, "Come from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Young Ms Evans is in fact a witch".
"A what!" asks the older daughter, even as the youngest goes bright pink with excitement.
"I see" says the Father in a careful, don't alarm the strange person in our house, tone of voice. "And that makes you a…?"
"A wizard of course!" says the small man cheerfully and from his pocket he pulls out a long polished stick of wood. It is a wand and he twirls it cheerfully through the air so that canaries come cascading out of the end. Another twirl and the youngest daughters clothes turn a brilliant green, the exact shade of her eyes. One more and the flowers on the table begin to open and close their petals at different intervals. The family watches this display in complete silence till all of the sudden the youngest daughter leaps into the air
"I knew it! I knew it! I told you didn't I? I told you mum! I knew Sev wasn't lying!" The small man looks rather taken aback by this sudden outburst then understanding dawns.
"Would you perhaps be referring to the young man I saw outside this house with one of our school letters?" he asks, smiling kindly.
"Yes sir!" says the girl a little breathlessly. "His name is Severus Snape and he's a wizard, and my best friend, and he told me six months ago that I was a witch and about Hogwarts and my letter and... and.." now she glares at her parents, "YOU didn't believe me!".
The mother and father glance at each other then the father shakes his head and smiles fondly down at his youngest. "We are sorry Lily. You were right". He throws an affectionate arm around his daughter. "I guess that means we are going to have a witch in the family!" the mother smiles and hugs the girls as the small wizard cheerfully hands the daughter a letter. The only one who doesn't appear to be sharing the happy mood is the eldest daughter. She is sitting with an uncertain expression on her face and as the youngest begins reading her letter out loud, she slips from her chair and quietly leaves the room.
…………………………………………
An owl flies down from the skies. It has been a busy morning and it has many more deliveries yet to make. The area below the owl is cramped with houses, many, many pressed all against each other. Already there are many people out and about though it is early still in this part of the country. The city the owl flies over is in fact London, the largest in all of England and full of large amounts of everyday, normal people. The owl isn't here to see them however; the family this owl is visiting is the complete opposite of these people. In fact this family loathes each and every one of these normal everyday people. And yet as the owl circle towards the chimney and drops the letter down it, there appears to be a change in the wind…
Inside the house, in the kitchen, a bedraggled creature reaches out and grabs the letter before it falls into the flames. The kitchen it is in is large and strange. There appears to be none of the normal appliances one expects in the kitchen but instead a lot of bizarre ones. In the corner bread is calmly kneading itself, a small cuckoo is sitting in the corner, occasionally telling the time and the creature appears to be cooking using a cauldron. This creature is humanoid in shape but small and wrinkled with long bat-like ears and large, droopy eyes. Upon seeing the letter its face breaks into a grin and it happily places the letter on a large silverware plate. Balancing the plate carefully it leaves the kitchen and enters a large dining room. The table is already fully-loaded with food but as of yet only one person is sitting at the table. She is a fat, squat looking women. Her facial features show the faintest hint of faded beauty but it is tarnished by lines of anger and hatred around her eyes and mouth. With long, claw like fingers she reaches out and takes the letter from the plate.
"Thank you Kreacher" she says in a voice that is cold and cruel. The creature bows low and backs away.
"My pleasure Mistress" it says.
The woman takes a long silver knife and slits open the letter. Pulling it out she reads it as a slow smile flutters over her lips. After a moment she puts it down and calls towards the doorway.
"Sirius! Come here". Her voice is harder than before and carries the vestiges of warning. There is a wait then the dining room door opens and in walks a boy. He is young, looking to be no more than eleven years old but already shows the markings of extreme good-looks. He carries himself with an air of confidence and a scornful regard for the women sitting before him.
"You screeched mother?" he asks and his words sound like insolence itself. The woman lips curl and she almost casually reaches out and picks up a long thin black piece of polished wood next to her plate. It is her wand but as she twirls between her fingers it bears a greater resemblance to a whip.
"Your letter has arrived Sirius" she says in a voice that is now dripping with poison. "Your time has finally come to show yourself to be other than a disappointment to your family."
"Is that so" says the boy and with complete disregard to his mothers bearing he saunters across and picks up the letter lying next to her.
"Yes" she says. "It is time that you stop this foolish behavior and take your place amongst the noble Blacks". A sneer starts to cross the boys face but before he can reply his mother flicks her wand and he is thrown across the room to be pinned against the far wall. His mother stands and stalks towards him. As she moves she twitches her wand, every movement causing a welt to appear across her sons' body. "You listen to me Sirius and you listen well." She says in a voice like a whisper. "You will go to Hogwarts and you will be placed in Slytherin. You will learn to honor your bloodline and work to eradicate those that are unworthy. You will do all those things and when you return from your Christmas break you will attend to your father and I with the respect we are owed and you will display to us proof of what it is that you have learned."
"Bait a muggle, mother?" the boy ask in a voice that is strained. The spell that keeps him pinned is slowly blocking off his air way and already he is struggling to breathe.
"It is the tradition of the Blacks!" his mother replies her voice rising to a screech. "You will return and you will show us what you have learnt. Show us how you will use your power to control those that are not worthy!"
"And... if... I... don't" the boy manages to gasp out, his face purple and strained.
"Oh" says his mother, leaning forward and smiling. "I think that you will". The boy slumps down, no longer able to remain conscious and as he does the letter he was holding flutters down from his grasp onto the floor. His mother smiles and walks away.
……………………………………………..
Another area of country, another owl. The country this owl flies over varies largely from the one before. It contains many opens spaces, fields and forests, although the area the owl appears to be heading for does appear to contain several houses. As it gets closer it is easy to see that this is in fact a village, quaint in general appearance, although with several properties that could only be described as opulent. It is to one of these houses, a mansion in fact, that the owl is clearly heading towards. With a rush of wings it slows and swoops towards an open window. It enters, to find itself in a giant kitchen. Once again this kitchen is filled with strange happenings as a broom sweeps itself and spices fly from a wrack slowly adding them selves to a stew bubbling on an extremely old-fashioned stove. Clearly someone was expecting the owl for there is an owl stand set-up next to the window which it gratefully lands on. To its delight there is water and a bucket of owl snacks attached and it quickly dips its beak. The flight has made it quite thirsty.
A scurrying noise is heard then a face appears before it. Once again it is a creature of humanoid aspect, with large eyes and ears. Unlike the other however this creature appears quite young and female. "There you are sir". It squeaks at the owl happily. "You just take your fill and rest if you want while I take your letter to the masters and mistress". The owl hoots kindly at the creature and extends its left leg so the letter attached there can be removed. The creature takes the letter and after giving the owl a quick pat skips away down the kitchen.
Before it can leave however the kitchen door swings open and three people enter, laughing and chatting away, all carrying dishes. Two are male, a man and a boy with the same messy black hair. The other is female, a woman of quiet and elegant beauty. The affections shared between them is almost palpable, especially compared to the scene witnessed in the last kitchen. The creature stops as the people carefully place the dishes on the benches. "Masters and Mistress shouldn't do that." The creature scolds, "Tis Bellas job to take the empty dishes away".
"That's okay Bella" says the man, affectionately ruffling the creature's ears. "James insisted that since this was one of his last days here he wanted to help out".
"Yeah Bel" says the boy smiling cheerfully. "You don't mind really do you? After all I'm going to be gone soon and then who will be around to annoy you and take your chores?"
"Master James shouldn't speak of himself that way" says the elf, hiding a grin. "Master James is always good company for Bella".
The mother smiles and says, "I'm sure Bella and I will be able to keep each other company enough while you are gone James". The boy grins at her then notices for the first time the letter the creature is holding expectantly out at him. His grin widens and he takes it from her with hands shaking with excitement. He rips it open and pulls out the letter. He gives a joyful yell.
"Its here! It's finally here! My letter from Hogwarts. Dear Mr Potter…." And he begins to read the letter out as his parents beam with joy over his head. When he finishes his father gives him a hug and tells him how proud he is of him. His mother meanwhile has taken his letter and is re-reading it. After a moment she gives a small hiccup. To their amazement father and son look up to see tears sliding down her cheeks.
"Mum?" the boy asks hesitantly.
"I'm sorry" she says as she too gives him a hug. She pulls back and tries to smile, "It's just here you are, my little boy, all grown up and going to Hogwarts".
"Aww mum" he says in exasperation, but he hugs her back as the father smiles and rests his hands on his wife's bent head.
………………………………………………..
Yet another kitchen on that same morning. Like the two kitchens visited previously this kitchen shows signs of otherworldly activity. Dishes are calmly cleaning themselves in the sink as porridge is slowly stirring on the stove. There is a significant difference within this kitchen however. Tension hangs almost visible in the air, resonating at high density by the three people sitting around the table. Two of them are adults, well dressed and prosperous to look at. The other is a child, a boy, approximately the same age as the other two boys seen. He is as well dressed as his parents but unlike them he appears to be unwell. His face is drawn, his body thin and there are grey streaks within his hair. The most peculiar of his aspects are his eyes as, unlike his parent who are both grey eyed his eyes are brown with strange gold flecks. These gold flecks can only be seen when he moves his head into a certain position, down, away from the sun. No-one speaks as they go about their meal. The boy sits, staring, unblinking at his porridge, seemingly un hungry. Across from him his father drinks copious amounts of coffee and appears to be reading the paper. If you watch closely however you see that he's eyes are not moving. He in fact has been staring at the same line for the last ten minutes. The mother makes many fluttery movements, picking up toast, checking the jam, all aspects that make it seem like she's busy but in fact she is getting nothing done. There is a listening quality to everything that they do, as if all their senses are straining for the slightest sound, interfering in their ability to do anything else.
There is a fluttering then a sharp pecking noise at the window. They all jump and the mothers face goes white. The father pushes himself away from the table and opens up the window in question. In jumps a large grey owl, many different letters clasped in its rather full beak. Face strangely blank the father takes the letters, feeds the owl and returns to the table. It is only if you look really close that you see that his whole body is shaking. As he sits down the mother turns to stare at him. She has given up all pretences and now watches him wide-eyed as she wrings her hands together. The boy merely stays where he is, staring at porridge.
Slowly the Father goes through the pile of letters, looking at each one, putting it aside unopened and reaching for the next. Finally he reaches the bottom and as he does his shoulders slump in despair. The mother gives a sob. "I'm sorry Remus" he says in a voice hollowed of all emotion. "There isn't a letter".
The boy looks up. His face is calm and accepting, at total odds with the news his father delivered. He shrugs. "That's okay Father. We knew our chances weren't good". His mother jumps up, intent on rushing to the boys side but the boy merely holds up his hands. "No mother its okay. Really it is". Slowly he gets up from the table, taking his porridge and placing the bowl by the sink. "I'm.. I'm not very hungry at the moment to tell you the truth. I think I will head back up to my room". His mother watches him, despairing as his father stares at the table, unwilling to look. The boy nods his head calmly and turns away. It is not until they can no longer see his face that his façade breaks and tears begin to well in his eyes.
A sharp rapping noise breaks the silence and once more they all jump. The boy hesitates by the stairs as his Father hurries to the door. Opening it his Father gasps and immediately steps aside. Into the kitchen comes a wizard, old yet somehow sprightly, with a long flowing white beard. He steps jauntily into the kitchen, brightly smiling at those before him.
"Professor Dumbledore" gasps the Father. "It's an honor"
"Nonsense, Joana" says Professor Dumbledore cheerfully, for that is indeed who the wizard is. "It's a pleasure. Kaitlan my dear, lovely to see you and may I say what a pleasant kitchen you have. I particularly like the mahogany cupboards. I've always been a great fan of mahogany". The mother smiles rather timorously and shoots an anxious glance at her husband.
"Er... What can we do for you Professor?" the father asks, reaching out and taking his wife's hands. The Professors face turns serious.
"I'm here to make arrangements Joana"
"Arrangements?" and now both father and mother shoot scared glances at the boy standing frozen at the bottom of the stairs. "Arrangements for what?"
"Why to make sure Remus has the best stay possible during his time at Hogwarts of course!" says the Professor with twinkling gaze, smiling at the boy by the stairs.
"I can go?" the boy asks, voice suddenly croaky. "I can go to school?"
The Professor beams as he says "Hogwarts would be delighted"
The boy runs, runs to the wizard and throws his arms around him. No longer is his face the calm accepting mask, it has been shattered by the burning hope scorching in his eyes and the tears of joy slipping down his cheeks.