Chapter 3
Tuesday, June 24th
Harry frowned at his reflection in the mirror that morning. His scar was hidden, his glasses looked great, his contacts should be in tomorrow, his ears lobes looked healed already. What he was frowning at was his hair. He was fairly certain hair was not supposed to grow this fast. His hair cut hadn't even lasted but one day.
"Why?" He asked his reflection.
He was annoyed and angered. He was learning and changing this summer, he was having a grand time at doing it. Then his hair had to rear it's ugly head once again.
"I want it back like it was!" Harry stated with conviction.
He felt a tingling sensation over his scalp. If he hadn't been watching, he would have sworn someone was playing a fantastic joke on him. Yet, no one was here but himself. He watched wide-eyed as his hair went back to the way it had been cut by the stylist.
"Holy shite!" Harry swore, he blinked in rapid succession while continuing to look at his reflection.
If he hadn't have seen it with his own eyes he wouldn't have believed it. He narrowed his eyes.
"How did I do that?" He questioned himself.
Harry moved away from the bathroom sink and headed for the kitchen. He kept thinking over again about the haircuts. Even to the one where he had been practically bald. While he made breakfast for himself, his mind wouldn't let it go. It was as if it had been…but he tried not to think about it. He had always been told that it wasn't real. Harry finished cooking the eggs, bacon, and toast and then sat down at the table to eat. Then he recalled how his teacher's hair had turned blue and that had been blamed on him as well. It was weird.
He ate slowly, but the more he thought on it, the more this summer was turning into the most interesting one he had so far. Even to the point of Aunt Petunia letting him read a book about a fantasy world. Middle Earth was magical. Harry dropped his fork and it clattered against the china.
"Bloody hell! Magic." He said to the room.
He knew about magic, well at least what Dudley had kept going on about some magicians he had seen on the telly. Harry had never been allowed to watch anything like it. Uncle Vernon's excuse had always been in case if he had gotten any ideas. Ideas for what? Harry had never understood. But if Magic was real. Harry put his elbows on the table beside the plate and placed his head in his hands. He pondered about this latest development. Trying to recall anything else that had happened. Any other strange things. Several popped into mind.
Getting on the roof when he had known he had been on the ground seconds before running from Dudley and his gang at school. That horrid sweater that Aunt Petunia had to try and force him to wear, it had shrunk so small that it would fit a doll. Then there was the time Dudley had pushed him off the roof of the house to see if it was safe to jump, nothing had happened to Harry and Dudley jumped, Dudley had broken his leg from the fall.
Harry started going over so called accidents. How quickly he had healed when something did happen. He had read the pamphlet from where he got his ears pierced, it was supposed to take six weeks for the healing, but Harry's lobes felt just fine this morning. Like their was never a problem, like his skin didn't have any irritation or anything like the pamphlet said could happen. But they were already healed.
It either had to be magic or else he had some freaky kind of super hero powers. That was all there was to it. He picked up his fork with his right hand and continued eating. The more he thought it about it, the magic, the more it started to feel right, like a warm blanket enveloping him.
He finished eating and washed the dishes and then headed back to his quest room. He sat down at the desk and opened his quest box and pulled out the next envelope.
Dear Nephew,
Today, you will read about the time you were brought to our home. You were told that the police brought you after the car accident with your mother and father. We told you this because, well, little kids tend to repeat what they are told and somethings can't be repeated. I want to stress to you, that while this was a lie, there are times when lying is beneficial. Example and one you can already guess. Dudley. I can't begin to recall the countless lies he told about you to get you into trouble. If you recall when you turned seven, I stopped believing his lies. I knew the truth, though Vernon still believed him. So the benefit Dudley had garnered was getting out of trouble that he had caused in the first place, but there is a downside to this type of lying. He has done this for so long that he now even believes his own lies. This will take years to correct.
Now let me address the story of the lie we told you. We could not have told you the truth, at least not while you were still to young to fully grasp the situation. This lie in turn allowed people to see you as an orphaned child that other people would have no problems in following the story. It was believable and therefore considered normal. Because how my sister and her husband died was not normal.
Now, for what I remember. The morning of November 2nd, of 1981; I opened the door to retrieve the milk jugs. Instead of just finding milk, I found you in a basket. You had been placed sometime on the doorstep in the middle of the night. All you had was a blanket and a letter with you. And believe me, I was angry about it. Not at you, but the person who had placed you on the doorstep; it was an unusually cold morning, at 1 degrees Celsius. I snatched you inside right along with the milk jugs. How the milk man never saw you was a complete wonder. I shouldn't say a complete wonder, for I know how it was done. We'll be discussing that in another letter.
Harry reread that paragraph over again. Blimey that was cold. How had he not gotten sick over that or catch his death? It was barely above freezing. Then he noticed the sentence about the milk man. So Aunt Petunia knew, this only seemed to solidify what he had discovered this morning.
I sat your basket down on the dining table and the milk beside you. It was then you stirred and I saw your eyes. I knew your name instantly. Lily had written and I knew what the father had named the little boy, Lily had no part in your name, she had made that clear, very adamantly in the letter. You had Lily's eyes, but that was all I saw of Lily. Everything else of your features belonged to the man she had married. James Potter. As you grew that was all I ever saw of her, just her eyes.
Now onto the letter. I don't have it anymore, I deeply regret not having it. Vernon had burnt it in the fireplace when it was still a working fireplace. After that winter, that was the last time it worked like that, an electric one had been put in its place.
This letter had me shaking in complete horror. The man who had placed you on the doorstep was the same one whom I had written a letter to when I was younger. I had wanted to go to the same school as Lily. I was told, I didn't require enough of the gift that Lily had so I couldn't go. I had become jealous and rather envious that she was getting to do all the things that I had dreamed of for so long. I was a voracious reader when I was younger. The fantasy books you are reading this summer have a lot to do with why, because I could see myself in that world, yet I was denied.
Harry blinked. Aunt Petunia had wanted to be inside Middle Earth. She was the one who had started him reading 'The Hobbit'. He could understand that reasoning, he wouldn't mind being there himself. He continued to read the letter.
The man's name is Albus Dumbledore. I have never forgotten it, nor do I think I ever will. I had become crushed with that first letter back from him. I wasn't going to take you in at first because he had refused my dreams. Yes it was spiteful. I was going to allow you to be adopted to a family who would look after you. Within twenty four hours after having taken you to an orphanage, you were back at the house with the man himself. Though his words drip with honey, they have the most hideous poison behind them. I have my own reasons for hating this man.
Harry frowned at reading that. His Aunt Petunia had her reasons, well now Harry had his own. From what he understood so far, this man was a complete idiot. At least his Aunt had good intentions within the first twenty four hours of having him. This man had placed him in the freezing cold weather on a doorstep when he was only fifteen months, barely a little over year old. He continued on.
Now for the letter that was left with you. There had been a war. James and Lily had been a casualty of this war and you had survived. The person who had killed the parents you do not remember tried to kill you as well, but failed. The scar on your forehead is from that attempt. I don't remember his name. Voldy, Moldy, or some such nonsense, it made no sense to me. That much of the letter I remember clearly, though not in his own words. Because of the sacrifice of Lily, you could only be put with someone who shared her blood. Me. Our parents were no longer alive at this point. This person's followers were still out in the country and they were still hunting you. Basically I would say they were murdered. Not something you could have a child to be repeating.
Harry sat back and reread that paragraph. He had flashes of a green light again. The car crash had made sense to him, with the light being green. Now he wondered what that light actually meant. He wasn't sure if his Aunt would know. But he now understood the lie he had been told. He shuttered to think what life would have been like if he told people his parents were murdered. It had been bad enough when it really had been Dudley who blabbed it all over school how his parents had died in a car crash because his father had been a drunk.
For the reason why you have to keep repeating your home address is because of the sacrifice. It is tied to the house in which we lived together because we shared Lily in common. By raising you away from the world Lily went to, you have been denied things. The other reason why you were sent to live with me is because you are recognizable in that world, your scar, for the very reason I taught you to hide it. Dare I say even famous, according to the letter this would be how you are looked at. Harry Potter Day, indeed, I shutter at the repugnance of it. I know this is a lot to soak in. Keep an open mind, remember the books you are reading. You and Lily share the same gift. If you haven't finished reading 'The Hobbit', do so now. Have you figured out the gift? If not, I'll be explaining it in another letter. If you have, then when I explain other things it will make it sink in further.
Today, before you do your Latin and your handwriting, there are a few books that I'm assigning you to read. Some of these are rather small, but mighty in strategy. Take them to school with you, do not leave them behind. The man who left you said he didn't think the one who attacked you was completely gone. We had been instructed to raise you away from the very thing you would need someday. Basically, I was informed to not to tell you anything, well, I'm doing so, and I'm preparing you with the information that I can send you off with in hopes you will be able to survive if war ever does come again. When you turned seven, let's say, I had my eyes opened. I'll discuss this more. But, the books are in the middle drawer of your quest dresser. The Art of War by Sun Tzu, The Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, Pawn Power in Chess by Hans Kmoch, Hitler: A Study in Tyranny by Alan Bullock, the essay On the Decay of the Art of Lying by Mark Twain, The Way of Zen by Alan Watts.
Your mind will become your greatest asset. The way you look at something will be totally different after you read these. A wet stone for sharpening your intellect.
Love,
Aunt Petunia
Harry sat there stunned. So this had all been the real reason why he was left with his Aunt and Uncle. Because of a war, and supposedly he was famous now. Harry snorted in disbelief. He didn't feel famous. He never did like it when people stared at him. If this was all because of some stupid scar, he would never want it revealed, he would keep it hidden. He sat the letter down and went to the dresser, he took everything out. Harry was thankful, because he now had another drawer he could place the new clothes in that couldn't go on hangers in the closet.
Though the letter hadn't said the word magic, Harry could read it between the lines of what his Aunt had been alluding to. He took the books over to the desk. This was a lot to work on. He sat down and picked up the essay, at least it was small and he read it. Harry laughed. Mark Twain had called lying a noble art that was prostituted. By the end of the essay he understood one thing. Lying could be used in a good way, if one went after to help another person with it and not for one's own gain. Harry grinned, because he saw actual merit in this idea. Because the lie that had been told to him about his parents while he was younger had benefit, better for them to have died in a car crash then at the hand of a murderer during a war. He would have had a harder time trying to explain that than a car crash. One he could imagine was made easier to understand. The element of murder and intent was a lot more cruel if he had been told the truth younger than he was now.
He worked on the handwriting until lunch. He noticed the ink blots on the parchment were getting better, not so large now as he figured out how much ink to put on the quill and tap the remainder back inside the bottle. He also had the next lesson done on curves. While he was going to get lunch ready and eat he decided on the Zen book to read first so he picked it up and took it with him to the kitchen.
Harry sat his lunch down on the table. He had made several sandwiches and opened one of the prepackaged salad mixes. Taking a drink of the juice he had poured, he then opened the book. The preface of the book he read slowly as he ate. He knew without a doubt a dictionary would come in handy. Getting up from the table he went back into his quest room and pulled the student dictionary that was on the desk off and headed back to the table where his lunch was. He was discovering new words he had never read before.
Harry sat back after he had finished with the preface of the book and his lunch. This one he reasoned out would have to be read slowly with a lot of thought put into it as well. It was a philosophy and a way of life. He felt that this would hold worth in how he noted his thinking was changing during this time of discovery. So the one principal he did understand was the great void, he sure felt like he had no landmarks which to guide him and that he was adrift in a world that had more possibilities than he knew about that was for sure. Old things were falling away and new things were being applied to his life. It was a tumultuous change. He had grown up knowing only one way of living and now he was finding himself with another that was nearing his grasp. Harry was thankful that his Aunt had given him something to read that would help him understand things.
Once back in his room after he cleaned up his lunch, Harry sat back at the desk and looked at everything he had been tasked to do. This was starting to turn into lists of chores like he had the summer before. Those had been rather long. He started making a list of what needed to be done quickly so he could have it out of the way. If he applied himself, he knew he could have a lot more than just two lessons a day in the basic Latin book done. He only had eight left to do for this one book. Harry set out with a determination like he always did when tackling his chores he had been given.
He started working, by the time dinner was near due, he had three lessons done. He needed a break and he needed to eat. So he headed into the kitchen and started cooking dinner. He and Robert had agreed if one cooked, the other did the dishes. That way neither one would be doing both. The shepherds pie was done by the time Robert got home and on the table. Harry had just finished pouring himself some milk when Robert walked through the door.
"Oh that smells wonderful. You outdid yourself today Brandon." Robert said as he sat down at the table.
Harry sat down with his glass of milk. "Thanks," he said blushing.
They both loaded their plates down, he was used to cooking for four people, well more if you considered how Uncle Vernon and Dudley ate. Harry dug in with gusto same as Robert.
"On those Elven languages can you help me out with that?" Harry asked.
Robert nodded as his mouth was full. Then he swallowed. "I have notebooks on each. Everything is printed out. I'll let you borrow them and you can copy them."
Harry smiled, "that will help out a lot. Thank you."
"Ni 'lassui."
Harry furrowed his brow. "What does that mean?"
"Thank you. There are three ways of thanking some one."
Harry listened as Robert gave him his first Sindarin lesson, as they continued eating. Maybe it was silly, but he wanted to learn it, it was a language he found that sounded like a melody when spoken. He would might not be fluent, but if he learned a few choice phrases he could have some fun with it.
What surprised him was he had a double helpings, even Robert did as well. They would have enough for leftovers tomorrow. Harry went back to his room and started working on the rest of the Latin. He was able to do two more lessons before he went to bed. He only had three lessons left and would do those tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 25th
Harry sat back down at the desk and looked out the window. He could see the play park in the distance. If he wanted, he could do some of his work outside and he thought today would be a good day for it, but he wanted to read the quest letter for today first.
Dear Nephew,
Have you figured out the gift? I hope you have. But if not, I will be talking about this gift. You and Lily have the same gift. It is magic.
Harry smiled. Yes he had figured that out yesterday. He felt again like he had been wrapped with a blanket of warmth. He closed his eyes, and relished the feeling. He wasn't quite sure what it was. The only thing he could think of was because he had accepted it, that it was the only thing that explained certain things he remembered. He reasoned this was why he was feeling this, he had been told magic wasn't real and for a long time he was a freak. Maybe this was what he was supposed to be feeling all along, but he wouldn't know.
You are a wizard and Lily was a witch. I had become jealous and envious of what she could do. As I stated in the last letter, I ever so wanted to be in that world, it would be as close as I could get to Middle Earth. You are like Strider, Aragorn who had lived in the realm of men and left and became a ranger, then he returns as the rightful king. While you may not be a king. You will be returning so to speak from the world you had once lived in.
As such, since Lily did not name you and she wanted to, but James had over ruled everything concerning you; since she can't any longer. I'm going to call you Kayden Arernil, Kayden means wise fighter or wise warrior, Arernil (Are er nil) means noble prince. Kayden is English whereas Arernil is in Sindarin. I didn't get to name Dudley either, so I know how Lily felt. I hope you like the name. If not, why not choose one for yourself.
Harry read it over and the meaning again. He knew he had agreed to Brandon with Robert, but this name he loved, it was done with care and consideration. He would ask Robert today to call him Kayden instead of Brandon.
So Kayden, you have the gift of magic, and you'll be returning like Aragorn did. If you don't believe me, then how did you turn your teacher's hair blue, get on the roof of the school, shrink the sweater Vernon wanted you to wear. That is just a few.
Now, so magic is real. You should be getting a letter from the boarding school two or three weeks before your birthday. I only remember that it comes in the middle of July. I went with Lily on her first shopping trip. It is in London, believe it or not. Some ruddy pub. I don't remember the name of it, but I do remember it is on Charring Cross Road, and not to far from the flat. I got you as close as I could get you to it from memory, so it is within walking distance. I don't want you to enter it today, I will let you know when.
This weekend you'll be going to a fair. One that is set in a medieval time period. It is a time where they (witches and wizards) can blend in with the normal people and don't seem out of place. For us normal people or ones with no magic, they call us muggle. You will be learning new words for this world and I'm going to try and give you all the ones I can remember. In these letters will be the words. Write them down and the meanings. I want you to see the medieval time period and note down everything when you go. They tend to dress very differently than we do. I can't stress that enough. Because it'll help you find that ruddy pub, that I can't remember the name to. I do know you need a wand to get into the entrance at the back of the place to go shopping.
So for today, I want you to start a magic dictionary for yourself. Keep working on your Latin, keep working on your handwriting. If you hadn't started reading 'The Lord of Rings' do so. Make sure you read the Hitler book before you go to school. From what Lily had written which wasn't much about this war, it sounded sort of like a leader was doing the same thing. One of the reason why I chose that book. And start one of the strategy books.
Love,
Petunia
Harry noticed she didn't put Aunt in front of her name. His brow furrowed as he checked the other letters. It was there but not on this one. He wondered why. Then he reread the letter and noticed she didn't put a last name either. Maybe she would explain in another letter. He hoped she did, because right now this baffled him.
He checked his new watch and noticed it was now nine in the morning. He needed to pick up his contacts today. Harry grabbed 'The Art of War' and went to the bathroom to recheck his forehead. Everything was fine, the scar was hidden. He left a note for Robert, telling him he was going to retrieve his contacts and spend an hour or so in the play park. This was just in case Robert came home for lunch or anything. He had a lot to think about.
As he reached the outside of the building he turned to the right and headed for the eye doctor. While he walked, he kept going over that name his Aunt Petunia had come up with. He wished so much for that to be his name, instead of Harry James Potter. He didn't want to be famous, he wanted a normal life, a life filled with magic and adventure without being famous because of some stupid murdering man who had given him a scar. He felt that warm feeling again flare ultra hot then it left a cool sensation as he continued walking. Harry wasn't sure what that was all about, but it hadn't hurt him, so he paid it no mind any further.
Deep inside the castle of Hogwarts the book of names lay open for this years students. Magic itself swirled around the book as another name was added, one without a surname. Kayden Arernil was written into the pages, the place holder for the surname flashing in sparkling letters of every letter trying to finish the name. It advanced the name after each name starting at the top and going down the bottom and kept repeating itself trying to place it. No one noticed, because it was not time for the letters to be written to the incoming students for this coming term yet.