Leather-bound Memories
The petit woman climbed the narrow wooden stairs to the small attic room. Her strong shoulders slumped forward with an air of defeat as she climbed. The familiar musty scent of the poorly ventilated space made the woman sigh as she crossed to the tiny oak desk that sat against the back wall of the room beneath the only window. A stream of pale sunlight made the dusty air shimmer as the woman sat in a creaky old chair and started at the scared desk. After a moment the woman reached down and opened the bottom most draw pulled out a worn leather-bound tome. She ran her fingers of the soft leather lingering at the frayed edges. She placed the book in the center of the desk, ink bottle and quill surrounding it on either side, but she did not open it. The woman sat, staring at the dust dancing in the beam of sunlight for a while, then, with a sigh, she flipped open the faded cover. On the first page was an inscription in gold letters.
To my only daughter,
Do not let the little things pass you by.
Do not lose the memories of your past.
Write and remember.
Love always,
Mom
25/8/91
The woman sniffled a little as she traced her fingers of the words that had been written a life time ago, then turned to the first page.
26/8/91
It's not fair! The boys all get to go to Hogwarts, and I'm stuck home with mother for another year! She thinks she can make me forget the fact that I'll be stuck here with no one but her around by buying me this new journal, but it won't work! She keeps telling me that at least I can go to King's Cross with her and see my brother's off, but I want to go with them! At least there's the chance that Ron won't make it through the barrier at platform 9 3/4s the first time. Just the thought of him bouncing off the brick wall makes me laugh! Only five days till they abandon me,, think I'll go make Fred and George play Quidditch with me while I still can.
The woman smiled down at the messy writing across the yellowing page. Such a little thing to get so upset about, but at ten years old being left behind was a big deal. The woman twirled the ends of her long ginger hair around a slender finger and flipped forward a few pages in the journal.
1/9/91
Well they're gone. The boys have left for Hogwarts and here I am stuck home alone with mom until at least Christmas… maybe Bill or Charlie will visit before then, they're always a laugh. Charlie's stories about the dragons he's worked with and Billy adventures hunting treasure for Gringotts are always interesting. I did go with mom to see the boys off at King's Cross. It was crowded and smelled bad, but mom says the muggles can't help it, that there are too many of them stuffed into such a small space that it would be impossible to keep it fresh without magic. Unfortunately, Ron made it through the barrier without a problem, I was really looking forward to seeing him fly backwards off the wall, especially since he was teasing me this morning about being left at home. There was another boy at the station trying to get on to the platform for the first time too. He was alone and his cloths looked too big for him. I wonder wear his parents were…
He had messy dark hair that stood straight up in spots like he hadn't brushed it today, but he had the greenest eyes I have ever seen. I wonder what his name was…. Guess I'll never know now.
The woman ran her fingers over the words, resting her fingers on each description of the boy from the train station. Tears shimmered in her tawny eyes, but did not fall. She flipped through the pages of the journal, stopping occasionally to grin at an entry of youthful indiscretion or to giggle over the child author's ranting. A few weeks after the original entry a name caught the woman's attention.
23/9/91
…Ron sent a letter from Hogwarts today. He says that the boy we met at King's Cross was Harry Potter, THE Harry Potter, the boy who lived…
The woman stared at the words on the page as though if she stared hard enough she would be able to see the boy whose name had caught her attention. She squeezed her eyes together tightly to fight the on coming tears and flipped the page. The next entry she stopped at was nearly a year later.
4/7/91
Ron, Fred and George stole dad's flying car last night. They flew half way to Surry and back, mother was furious. They brought Harry back with them. I ran down to the kitchen this morning and there he was sitting at our kitchen table. His hair was still messy, but it's cute like that. He looked at me with those green eyes and I ran. I couldn't help it! I had no control over my feet! My face is still burning! He must think I'm a complete idiot…
I got my Hogwarts letter today… I just know I'll be in Gryffindor… I have to be!
The entry brought a slight smile to the woman's face. She closed her eyes and pulled the image of the Burrow's crowded kitchen into her mind. In the quiet room the woman could nearly hear the click of wooden mixing spoons against the shinny copper pots, and it comforted her. She opened her eyes and thumbed through a few pages.
19/7/92
We went to Diagon Alley today for school supplies. I was so excited I could hardly contain it. Gilderoy Lockhart wads signing books at Flourish & Blotts... He's so handsome! He spotted Harry and dragged him up for photos. Harry was so embarrassed, but looked cute even when he was all red. I'll have to remember to swipe father's Evening Prophet tonight! We met Lucius Malfoy there, he had his prat of a son, Draco, with him. Mr. Malfoy and father had a bit of a row. Mother was angry but I thought it was a laugh!
Below the entry was a worn cut out from the Evening Prophet newspaper. In the picture a dark haired, red faced boy was trying to pull himself out of the grip of a blonde haired man who was showing off a large toothy grin. The woman laughed out loud and continued flipping the tattered pages. The next entry her eyes fell on made the smile fade from her lips.
29/5/93
I'm a horrible person, a bad witch. I should be thrown in Azkaban for what I've done. It's been nearly a year since I've written, a year I don't really remember. I did horrible things! But it wasn't my fault! I was tricked! Possessed! By He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…
I opened the Chamber of Secrets, I let the monster out… I'm not sure how or when, I can't remember. Hermione was petrified… it was my fault… I don't know how, but I ended up in the Chamber of Secrets myself, they've told me that You-Know-Who brought me there… I was dying. I don't know how I know that. I have no memory of it, but I know I almost died that night. Harry saved me….
The woman sat motionless when she finished reading the entry, her stomach clenching as bile rose him her throat. She tightened her grip on the book. She wanted to close it, to throw it, anything to make the words disappear. But she remained seated, her shaking hands clutching the leather-bound book. She flossed her eyes tightly and breathed deep. After a few moments her stomach settled and she began to flip blindly through the journal. The next entry the woman's wet eyes focused on was from the young girl's third year at Hogwarts.
16/4/94
…Gryffindor beat Slytherin in Quidditch today 230 to 20!! GO LIONS!!
…Harry was amazing…
The pure joy of those simple words wiped away the foul taste left in the woman's mouth from the previous entry she had read. The girl's enthusiastic cheer for her house team blinked a faded red and gold on the page making the woman want to linger on it, but she continued to make her way through the journal. As the woman turned the pages she skimmed through entries filled with the excitement, fear, sorrow and love of the young girl's life.
25/8/94
…Father is taking us to the Quidditch World Cup today! I hope the Irish crush the Bulgarians even though I know Ron will be rooting for Krum! Harry's coming with us…
26/8/94
.. The Death-Eaters attacked at the World Cup… I have never been so scared! Not even after waking up in the Chamber of Secrets last year! We lost Harry for a while. I was terrified that he had been captured, but he was all right…
29/10/94
… Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Cup! I can't believe it! I can't wait!
31/10/94
… Harry was chosen as a champion for the Triwizard Cup!! I just know he'll win! I know I'll be cheering for him…
The woman smiled, remembering the excitement of that year, remembering gasping and cheering with the crowd as the champions bravely completed each task. Entry after entry described each task of the Triwizard Cup including detailed accounts of Harry's victories and failures. Tucked between the details of each task set for the Triwizard Cup were those of a different type of excitement.
1/12/94
… McGonagall has just told us there will be a Yule Ball this year! I'm too young to go, it's only for fourth year and up, but maybe someone will ask me to go… maybe Harry will ask me…
15/12/94
… Harry wants to go to the ball with Cho Chang. What is he thinking wanting a know-it-all Ravenclaw?!? Neville asked me to the ball and I've said I'll go with him.
25/12/94
The ball was excellent! Harry looked so handsome in his dress robes…
… Neville was a surprisingly good dancer! All in all it was a good time!
Happy Christmas!
At this last entry the woman laugh again even as tears sparkled in her bright brown eyes. The young girls' crush was obviously becoming stronger and the joy of young love was infectious. The woman paused, her hand hovering over the faded page. She knew the next sentry she read would have none of the laughter of a school girl crush in it. Resigned, she turned the page.
24/6/95
... He's back! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named its back! Harry saw him… fought him… and lived… again.
Tears fell from the woman's eyes on to the weathered pages as the memories of gut-wrenching fear swept through her. Quickly she turned the pages without even glancing at them. When the woman opened her eyes her trembling hand laid over yet another heart breaking memory.
9/10/95
Harry had formed a club, actually it's more of an army, Dumbledore's Army. He is determined to fight You-Know-Who and to train the rest of us to defend ourselves. Some say he has a death wish. I'm scared for him….
Another tear slid from the woman's eyes as she turned the page again.
18/12/95
… Hermione told me Harry kissed Cho today. I won't let them see me cry….
The pains of unrequited teenage love pulled at the woman's heart strings as she continued to flip through the journal iun search of happier memories. She found one, more then a year later.
10/5/97
Today was incredible! I played seeker because bloody Snape had Harry in detention again! I caught the snitch!! Gryffindor won! Not only the match, but the House Cup as well!! The feeling was amazing!
Harry kissed me…
It was in the common room after the match. Everyone was there, but when he wrapped his arms around me it was like everyone else had disappeared. In my mind we were completely alone. I feel like I've been waiting for this my whole life. I never want to forget this feeling. Catching a thousand snitches couldn't compare…
The page glittered a pale gold, obviously charmed so it would not fade through the years. The ink was still the deep, rich black and the pages were a perfect as the day the entry had been written. The woman fingered the page, smiling though her tears. She lingered there a moment, reading the entry yet again. As she turned the corner of the page her fingers trembled, and she knew it would be many pages before she would find anything to smile about again.
13/6/97
… Dumbledore died today.
Snape killed him.
Harry was there….
16/6/97
… Harry broke up with me today after Dumbledore's funeral. He says being with him puts me in danger! You-Know-Who is back and I'm part of a family that is considered blood-traitors who are actively fighting You-Know-Who! How much more danger could I possibly be in?!?
The woman flipped the pages rapidly barely glancing at the repertoire of the fallen friends and family from the war against Voldemort. Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Ted Tonks, Dobby, Fred, Snape, Remus and Tonks… the list went on an on, so many loved ones dead and gone. Tears fell from the woman's eyes onto pale cheeks once again. She continued to flip pages quickly. Several years later she came across another page glowing pale gold.
1/5/02
... Harry asked me to marry him today, and I've accepted.
After that there were pages of entries detailing wedding arrangements, guest lists, flower orders, and even one entry filled with fear that Harry was getting cold feet. Now that woman smiled as she touched each page. The girl had turned into a woman during what seemed to be far too few pages and now documented the joys of her adult life. From wedding day jitters to wedding night romance, from pregnancy pains to the joyous births of her children it was all here in these yellowed and tattered pages. Near the end of the worn tome the woman found another entry that made her eyes shine with tears.
9/1/18
We brought Lily to King's Cross today. She practically ran through the terminal in her excitement to finally join her brothers at Hogwarts. All my babies are in school now. I can't remember the house ever being this quiet…
The woman turned the pages slowly now, as though she dreaded the end of the journal. Finally she reached the last entry followed by a blank page. The woman started at the empty, slightly yellow page for what seemed like an eternity as she wiped her red and watery eyes. One hand fiddled with the end of her long fiery mane as she took deep gulping breaths. Finally, with a shaking hand, she picked up the quill that lay beside the book, dipped it into the waiting ink well and touched the tip of the quill to the blank page.
24/6/20
Harry Potter died today. He was murdered behind the Leaky Cauldron as he left Diagon Alley. There were no witnesses. In his hands was a purple party dress he had just bought for his daughter's thirteenth birthday next week, the special day they shared. The ministry believes it was the rouge son of a Death-Eater from before Harry defeated Voldemort. They found no evidence, they have no leads.
I can't believe he's gone…
The last statement was punctuated with the slash of a large teardrop. The woman sat at the ancient scared desk, in the old creaky chair and carefully cleaned the quill and capped the ink well before returning them to their previous resting spots. She closed the worn, leather-bound journal with hands that still trembled, running her shaking fingers over it's soft cover. Carefully she replaced the book, settling it gently in the bottom most drawer of the desk once again. She stared at the book blankly for a moment then closed the drawer. The woman looked around the dim room and realized the sun had nearly set in the time since she had first opened the journal. The woman stood, patting her ginger hair into place and wiping her blood-shot eyes. Then she turned away from the desk, away from the leather-bound memories, and left the room to prepare her children to say good bye to their father.