A/N: I really like this fic. I do. A lot. Even though I swore that I would never write a fic centered on a descendent of one of the current Harry Potter characters. This is sort of different, though. It goes back to the past… and into the future. I've got a lot planned for this fic. By the way, I was very much influenced by Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. If you haven't read those books, they're really good, and I recommend them.
This fic might be a bit confusing to some people. Just to clear this up, the introduction is Adele speaking before anything in the story happens. She's just a naïve little 11-year old. (I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with being 11-years old, or naïve, because I was one and still am the other.) I almost had Adele be a Malfoy, but I decided against it. I like it this way. I'm proud of this fic! It's my first science fiction story, ever! Well, it's sort of science fiction. Science fiction in a fantasy world. Does that make sense? I hope someone understands that.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, the Malfoy family, Hogwarts and its houses belong to J.K. Rowling. Adele Potter, Cornelia Meridia and Clarence Malfoy belong to me, except for Adele's and Clarence's last name. The characters themselves are all mine.
And also, thanks to Virgo for beta reading this for me, and also to everyone else who read this before I even thought of posting it. It means a lot to me that you guys will willingly read my stuff and then usually like it, too! Of course, a special thanks to Draca, because she always helps me out with brainstorming for my stories, and, you know, if it weren't for her, I wouldn't even be writing here at FF.N! =)
After Potter
Chapter 1: An Introduction to Muggles
I am Adele Potter. I was born on October 26, 114 AP. AP stands for "After Potter," as in Harry Potter. I think he was my great great grandfather. I never knew him, but my grandmother says that he was a great wizard. She would never tell me what he did that was so great, though.
I go to school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I've been told that that's where my great great grandfather went to school. I'm a Gryffindor, just like everyone in my family has always been. The Sorting Hat tried to place me in Ravenclaw, but I wouldn't let it. I wanted to carry on the tradition. Besides, Ravenclaw is for bookworms.
I don't see a point in reading anything that's not for school because none of it is of any difference to me. Books are all monotonous and say the same thing – wizardkind is the only intelligent race on the planet, and there is no life anywhere else.
I know someone who is a Ravenclaw. When the Sorting Hat announced that he would be a Ravenclaw, he was not happy at all. His name is Clarence Malfoy. People told me to stay away from him because he's a Malfoy, but I didn't listen. I didn't see a reason to. He is nice to me, and has proved to be a good friend, even though I tease him a lot about reading books. I don't see a point in books.
*~*~*~*
Then, one day I decided to see what the big deal with books was, and I randomly chose a book from the library to read. It was old, its cover was nearly falling off, and its binding was a mess. The title of the cover was worn off, so I couldn't tell what the book was about. I didn't even know why I chose that book to read; many of the other books had much more legible titles. There was something about that book that called to me, and I wasn't about to put it back.
I moved my hand over the surface of the book, feeling its texture, examining every inch of it. Some of the pages were sticking out, thin and yellow. The book had a musty smell to it, like my attic. Once, before I was in school, I went up into my attic, but when my mother found me there, among the old trunks, she wouldn't let me stay. The attic had the exact smell of the old, ratty book. The scent filled my nostrils, and I felt a warmth, as if reading that book was my destiny.
I turned the cover over, and it became detached from the book and fell off into my hands. The first page was blank and yellow. It was brittle, and pieces of the edge flaked away. The next page, slightly less yellowed, was the title page. It read: "A Guide To Third Year Muggle Studies."
I didn't know what it meant. "Muggle" was a word I had never heard before. Instead of being turned off by my lack of understanding, I was further intrigued. I had to read more.
The top of the next page said "Chapter One: An Introduction To Muggles." Scribbled beneath it in untidy script were the words "Muggles must die! Voldemort will live on!" I didn't know who or what Voldemort was, but the mention of the name sent a chill down my spine.
I read aloud the first paragraph on the page, "Muggles are people that do not possess magic. They live in cities, not too much unlike our own, but – "
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" bellowed Madame Lumsky, the school librarian.
"I – I… I was just r-reading a b-b-book." I trembled harder than I remembered ever doing in my life.
She swiped the book out of my hands and its cover fell onto the floor. She turned back one back from where I was, and her eyes widened. "Oh dear," she whispered. "Child, whatever you read, it's utter nonsense," she commanded, biting her lip after the words left her mouth. "It's fiction. That's all it is. Fiction."
I nodded slowly, pretending that I believed her. I didn't believe her because I knew that the Hogwarts library doesn't have fiction novels.
Madame Lumsky stalked off, giving me one last severe look over her shoulder. I didn't know what that book was about, but her reaction to it made me want to find out. Up until that point, my life had been quite dull. As I picked the book's cover off the ground, I realized that after having that one taste of fearful adventure, I wanted more.
*~*~*~*
Exams came quickly, and they pushed the thought of any non-school book, about Muggles or not, out of my head. It was my first year at Hogwarts, so I didn't know what to expect out of the exams. Studying took up all of my time, and my thoughts couldn't afford to wonder what Muggles and Voldemort were.
When the exams were over, I was happy to board the Hogwarts express for the second time in my life. Most of the ride was uneventful, as all I did was talk to Clarence about exams, and then sleep. But it was the sleeping part that turned out to actually be of interest.
I was standing in front of platform nine and three quarters at the train station. There were hundreds of people swarming about, bustling every which way. They were oddly dressed, in that they weren't wearing robes like normal people always did.
"Now, Corrie," a robed woman next to be said softly, motioning at the unrobed people, "the Muggles won't notice you. They don't care."
The woman was calling me Corrie, but I didn't know why. I only knew one person who was called Corrie, but that was an abbreviation for Cornelia. That person was my grandmother.
"But mo-om, I don't want to!" I whined, the words coming out of my mouth without my consent. It was like there was a spell over me, one that made me say and do things as if they were the only things I could do, but still let me think freely. That's the way some dreams are; you don't know why anything in them happens, and you can't help but let it happen.
"Cornelia Elizabeth Meridia!" the woman shouted, then realizing she was drawing attention to herself. She leaned over to whisper into my ear, "Don't worry about the Muggles. Just go." She emphasized the last command by nudging me forward to the barrier. I had no choice but to walk through. It was a slightly familiar process, as I had done it before, in September. But September seemed so far away.
I made it through, to the other side. Other children were walking up to me, saying that they had missed me over summer vacation. There were so many of them, kids I didn't recognize, and the world started spinning. It spun faster and faster, until finally just going all black.
Everything was black, and then I opened up my eyes. Clarence was hovering over me, looking concerned. "You were breathing really hard. And your forehead is warm. Are you okay, Del?"
I put my hand to my forehead. He was right; it was warm. When I moved my hand, it was moist with sweat. I looked up at Clarence from the seat. "I had a weird dream. That's all."
I know what I said, but that wasn't all. I wanted to tell Clarence about the Muggles, about the book, about Madame Lumsky's reaction, and about the dream, but I couldn't. I needed to find out more before I could tell anyone.
*~*~*~*
Over that summer, I looked everywhere for any scrap of information. I ransacked the bookshelves in my house, and I even tried the public library. My parents might have been wondering what I was doing, even if they didn't say so, as I had never before shown even a slight interest in books, and I didn't tell them a thing about my quest. After my encounter with Madame Lumsky, I wasn't about to tell anyone what I was up to.
There weren't any books that I could find that could help me at all. The books were all the same, and only about things we learned in school. All I had to keep me going was the decrepit cover that had fallen off of A Guide To Third Year Muggles Studies. No one except me knew that I had it. It didn't have any writing on it, but burned into what would be the inside of it was a skull with a snake, which I thought looked pretty cool, regardless of the fact that I knew nothing about it.
When it came time once again to board the Hogwarts express, I was depressed because of my waste of a summer. If it weren't for Clarence, who ran up to me as soon as he saw me, I might not have put together the first clue from my dream on that train ride that seemed to be so long ago.
"So, how was your summer?" Clarence asked, quickening his pace to keep up with me. I have a bit of a habit of walking faster than everyone else.
"Fine," I grumbled, dragging my trunk behind me.
He paused to roll up his sleeves. I let go of my trunk, and turned around to face him. I tapped my foot impatiently, having lost my patience sometime during the summer. Clarence looked up, and his green eyes met my blazing blue ones. As if just remembering something, he pointed behind him and spoke, "Did you ever notice that there's so many other platforms here, but the only one that's used is for the Hogwarts Express?"
I started to say no, the words wouldn't come. It didn't seem like a new thought at all to me, but I didn't ever remember thinking it.
"No?" I just looked back at him, dumbstruck. "No matter," he said, starting to walk again, "we've got a train to catch."
Then it struck me – the one time that I had thought that thought was after my dream. In it, the Muggles were all going somewhere, but I couldn't quite tell. All I knew was that they weren't going to platform nine and three quarters, nor did they show any inkling of knowing it was there.