All things Harry Potter are credited to J.K.Rowling, but you already knew that.
I honestly think our common room is the best looking at Hogwarts. Its silky midnight blue hangings and circular, domed shape make me think of a Greek palace. It's especially nice early in the morning when the sky is not pink yet but a light, misty blue. It is during this time of day that our spectacular view of the mountains looks best. The mist hanging low over the bluish peaks makes them look so mysterious and ancient.
My favorite thing to do is to come down from my dormitory, at this precise time, and sit in our beautiful common room. There's never any set way I do this. Sometimes I'll sit in one of our large, squashy armchairs. Other times I'll lean against the window. But always, I am staring out at those majestic mountains.
This, I feel, is the best time for brooding, daydreaming, or any other form of thought. For one's mind is inexplicably, utterly clear of the excess nonsense that clogs it at the height of the day. All is quiet, all is serene, and the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw smiles down at me. That knowing smile of hers. You see, she and I know the same thing. We are part of a select group of people who all recognize this truth.
"Wit beyond measure is Man's greatest treasure."
And it's perfectly true. We here in Ravenclaw find that you can never know too much. There is always something new to explore, to learn, or to do. And you can do it; if only you keep an open mind.
Hi, my name is Dahlia. Dahlia Blakely. I attend Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, am obviously in Ravenclaw house and would like to tell my side of the story. You may be thinking, "Uh, yeah, hi. Who the hell are you?" To answer your question, I am in fact, nobody. But I'm here. If you want to know it from Harry, Ron, or Hermione, pick up another book. For these are not the memoirs of some great Gryffindor hero, nor those of a cruel Slytherin. These are memoirs of a different kind.
A few quick facts about this nobody:
Date of Birth: February 14
Star Sign: Aquarius
Wand stats: Sakura, 16 inches, Dragon heartstring
Favorite subject: Potions
Least Favorite subject: Herbology
Position on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team: Beater
Hair: Blue-Black, 3.5 feet long, volumeless/ flat
Eyes: Turquoise blue, Deep set
Skin: Latte colored
Height: 5 feet, 6 inches
Nationality: Native American/ Scottish
Father's house/blood status: Slytherin, Pure blood
Mother's house/blood status: Ravenclaw, Half-blood
Well I won't bore you with all the details of my early life. Before Hogwarts, my life was pretty simplistic and not even remotely interesting. I lived in a small cabin in the Sierras with my mother when I wasn't going to my old school (The Salem Witches institute) and I had only the giant sequoias for company. I wasn't unhappy though, I liked my quiet life. The most I had to worry about was homework. But sadly, it didn't last. My mother was dying. She started getting sick when I was thirteen. None of the healers that came to see her could figure it out. She was vomiting constantly and suffered skull smashing headaches almost every night. Then one day, when I was in my fourth year, a teacher pulled me out of class to tell me that my mother had died in her sleep that morning.
The next couple of months were blurry; I couldn't describe them even if I wanted to. I remember my father, tall and smart, with his slightly crooked jaw coming for me. I remember being taken away from my cozy little cabin to a large and empty manor house in frigid Scotland. My father wasn't unkind though. He simply treated me like a guest. We exchanged polite niceties, but nothing more. We spoke not of my dead mother.
My father left me to wander the long, dark, marble hallways by myself. There were so many rooms it was hard for me to choose which ones to waste away in. I rarely saw my father outside his study except at mealtimes. We had three house elves. Dinky was the only elfette, and the one I liked talking to the most. She had enormous black eyes, a minuscule button of a nose, and a high squeaky voice that made me utterly fond of her. I would wander down to the kitchen sometimes and talk to her. She told me that this manor was ancient, and had been in the family for centuries. Sometimes it had been very full, and every room was occupied. Other times, (like the time that I spent there) it was nearly empty.
The house itself was planted in the middle of a huge, misty forest. I would look out the bay windows and see nothing but dark green foliage for miles around. There was a library, but most of its books were written in languages I couldn't comprehend. There was also a huge white marble ballroom which was sparkling clean but had a slightly neglected feeling. Most of the other rooms were either forbidden to me or didn't contain anything very interesting. My room was on the second floor. It was obviously the room meant for the first child. It was large, yet not larger than the master bedroom, which I had gotten a peek of. My room was grand, beautiful, and looked expensive but it lacked the certain kind of warmth that the cabin had. It was cold and dead looking, even though the walls were brightly colored. I lied in that huge bed every night, feeling like I was in a hotel. Staring up at the white silky canopy, I wondered how much longer I'd have to be here. I only had to wonder for a few weeks though.
One pale gray morning, I sat at the table with my father, eating my toast and eggs in silence, as usual. Then he cleared his throat loudly and looked down the long mahogany buffet at me.
"Dahlia," he said with an air of one addressing a wayward employee. "The headmaster of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry will be coming to see you this evening. I want you in the drawing room at six sharp, understood?"
"Yes father." I said in a dry, learned voice.
"Very good."
It was five till six until I remembered that I needed to be somewhere. I gave my hair a quick brush (which is saying something, considering that my hair is over three feet long) and threw on the clothes that I had laid out that morning.
I dashed down the spiral staircase, straightening my blouse as I went. I threw open the drawing room door, dashed inside, plopped down on the moth eaten sofa, and had just managed to compose my face into a comfortable look, when the door opened.
In walked, the strangest man I had ever laid eyes on. He wore a spectacular set of midnight blue robes, and a look on his face that suggested he knew more then I ever would in this lifetime. His long white hair and beard poured down, and perched precariously on his head was a matching blue velvet wizard's hat. He looked, in short, like what all Muggle children in the world think wizards look like. He strolled toward me, smiling pleasantly.
"Dahlia," he said, shaking my hand. "I am Professor Dumbledore, and may I say I am delighted to see that you made it in here in time."
I felt blotchy heat crawl up my cheeks.
"Uh…yeah..."
He just smiled.
"Now, to business I'm afraid. Hogwarts does not usually accept transfer students this late in their school years, but as your father so kindly reminded me, both of your parents attended Hogwarts and you had your name down as well, until your mother moved you to the Americas."
Here he cast a look behind him, and I saw my father standing, framed in the doorway, watching closely. He turned back to me and continued,
"Normally when students join Hogwarts, there is a Sorting ceremony. During which this hat—" he pulled a dirty grubby, old hat from within his robes "—will sort you into your house. Under normal circumstances this is done in front of the entire student body, but I thought, given your unusual situation, you would prefer to do it in private. So, without further ado—" and he dropped the old hat onto my head where it slipped down over my eyes. It had been there a fraction of a second when it bellowed "RAVENCLAW!" so loudly that my ears were ringing. I felt Dumbledore take the hat off, and when I looked up, I saw that my father had left the doorway.
"Good, good." He said, looking pleased as he put the hat back in his robe pocket. He then withdrew a letter sealed in scarlet wax.
"Here are your booklists for this year. On the second piece of parchment are the details for when term starts, along with your train ticket. Good luck and I hope to see you there." He finished, and with a generous smile, shook my hand again. He turned and swept from the room, his long cloak billowing behind him. After a moment, I got up and went to the hallway to watch Dumbledore depart, but he had already gone. Wondering why and where my father had gone, I went back to my room, the letter clutched tight to my chest.
The next morning I went down to breakfast to find my father sitting there, very upright, and not eating. I sat down, looking nervous.
"We'll be going to Diagon Alley to get your school things today; we need to hurry, though because Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are coming to dinner tonight, along with several other guests." My father said in a dull, rehearsed way. I had no idea who the Malfoys were, didn't know why my father needed hours to prepare for their visit, and frankly didn't care very much either.
"How long will it take us?" I asked curiously.
"Well, if we do it right it shouldn't take us more than two hours." He said sternly, as though he knew me to dawdle. I stared at him from my end of the table insolently. How exactly was the "right" way? He got up from the table, looking irritated and harassed, and said shortly,
"Your breakfast." And with a flick of his wand, a large plate of French toast appeared before me, complete with syrup.
"Hurry and eat that, then meet me in the foyer." He said, and then disappeared behind the dining room door.
I ate slowly, knowing that it would irritate my father. When I was sure that every last crumb was gone from my plate, I shrugged on my hoodie and went out into the large marble foyer, where my father was looking irate.
"Thank you for joining us," he said snidely. It was all I could do to suppress a smirk.
"No problem." I said, as though I were doing him a favor.
He said nothing but wrenched open the great double doors and stepped out into the misty morning. I followed him to the end of the wide, twisting drive where nothing but a lonely lamppost stood on the main road. He turned around and said brusquely,
"Now grab my arm, and hold on tight."
Having traveled by Side Along apparition before, I raised no objections. It was more the fact that I was touching my father that made me feel strange. The unpleasant sensation of apparition made it no better.
I let go of my fathers elbow, stumbling a bit, in the middle of a crowded pub. My father nodded at the barman, then steered me out to a small, dingy square. He tapped a certain brick three times with his wand, and there appeared an archway leading to Diagon Alley.
I'll admit, even I was impressed by that place. I would've liked to have stayed longer and examined every little thing I came across, but my father seemed intent on getting out of there quickly. One good thing that came out of my father's need for speed was that he was willing to buy me anything I wanted so long as he bought it quickly. Therefore by the end of the trip, I had gained a Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One, silky azure dress robes, and a tiny black kitten with bright green eyes. Feeling very cheerful, (despite my fathers anxious and petulant mood) I went 'home' smiling serenely.
Upon entering, the house elves rushed over to relieve me of my packages, and I went upstairs, clasping Bones (that's what I decided to call my kitten) to my chest.
I would've been quite happy to sit up in my room and play with Bones while my father was entertaining, but he wasn't going to have it. ("You are my daughter now and you will sit and eat with the rest of us!") So with a sigh, I went down into the dining room, wearing the same plain skirt and blouse that I had worn for Dumbledore.
When I entered, all talking died immediately, and every member of the table was staring at me avidly. There was a stately witch and wizard sitting on either side of my father, both with silvery blonde hair and slight sneers on their faces. A plump witch sat a little ways away (my first impression was that of a very squat toad) and a bustling, pompous looking man with a lime green bowler.
"So," said the tall blonde man. "This is her is it?" he queried of my father.
My father looked slightly embarrassed and jerked his head irritably. The man turned to me and scanned me up and down, his sneer becoming more pronounced.
"You look very much like Sedna." He said finally. I could tell, by the way he said my mother's name that he knew she was a half blood. My father looked uncomfortable.
"However, she does show traits of the Blakely line." He said kindly to my father, as his grey eyes flickered to my turquoise ones.
"Lovely, lovely." Said The Pompous man contentedly. The other man continued to sneer. I took my seat at the far end of the table, specifically separating myself. I did not like one person at the table. They talked ab0ut things I didn't have much interest in, and when my plate was clean I got up to leave the table. My father threw me a sharp look and I sat down. He turned back towards the conversation.
"….well as always, Potter managed to worm his way out of punishment again." The Toady woman was telling my father.
"Dumbledore rescued him from expulsion of course." said The Pompous man furiously.
"Dumbledore was here last night." I piped up. The table fell silent at once and The Pompous man looked at me sharply.
"He was, was he?" he asked. My father looked disgruntled.
"Well yes, he sorted m—"
"—Trying to spy on Ministry employees no doubt!" The Pompous man roared. The Toady woman's eyes bulged even wider as she lowered her already high pitched voice dramatically,
"I expect he was trying to work out some kind of deal with our Head of Department of Magical Transportation, Minister! Trying to get the Hogwarts fires to be unwatched!"
"Yes! Yes! I expect he was!" The Pompous man said excitedly. "Seth! Did Dumbledore try to pull a few strings for his precious Hogwarts?"
I was wondering who Seth was when my father answered,
"No, I showed him to the door shortly after his arrival."
"Ah…" said The Pompous man, slightly put out. I stared at my father. I had never heard his first name before.
Soon afterward, the adults adjourned to the sitting room, each shaking my hand before they left; the blonde man still wearing what I assumed was his uniform sneer.
I returned to my room where I found Bones playing in my draperies. I watched him for a while, thinking about how little I knew of my father. I heard the front door slam and I got up to look out my window. I saw our four guests trumping down the long and twisted drive. I decided to go and see what my father was doing.
He was down in the dining room, watching the elves clearing the dishes away with his usual look of seriousness.
"So you're the head of The Department of Magical Transportation, huh?" I asked interestedly.
"What? Oh, yes. Yes I am." He said distractedly.
"And your name is Seth."
He looked annoyed.
"Yes, why?"
"I just never knew that."
His expression did not soften, and he turned to leave.
"What else don't I know?" I called to his back. He ignored me and walked on, slamming his study door. I went back up to my room and thought about how much I missed my dead mother.
Tune in Next time for Chapter 2 of Memoirs of a Ravenclaw!