The Phantom of Hogwarts

Chapter Six

Erik did as he was told but a few seconds later he wished he had not.

Erik gripped Anatole's arm harder as their surroundings suddenly went black. Erik gave a startled cry as he felt tight bonds squeezing his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. Erik soon found himself barely able to breathe much less cry out as the pressure steadily grew worse.

Just when Erik thought he was going to see his guts come up through his nose the sensation stopped and he and Anatole were now standing in the middle of an emerald green field dotted with bright wild flowers. In the distance Erik could hear the faint sounds of the ocean crashing against the land.

Confident that they were on solid ground once more Erik felt his knees give out as he released his grip from his father's arm. Erik sank down onto the moist grass and gasped for breath. Anatole knelt down beside him and gently rubbed Erik's back as the boy fought to keep himself from vomiting.

"Breathe in and out, Erik. It will pass just settle down." Anatole said slowly.

Erik wiped the tears and cold sweat from his eyes and beneath his mask then concentrated on slowing down his heart, which threatened to burst from his chest. Anatole pressed an ornate goblet of water into Erik's hands. Erik accepted and drained the goblet greedily. The cold water helped to soothe his nerves and calm his stomach. Erik passed the goblet back to Anatole, who merely tossed it to the ground where it vanished into a cloud of glowing gold dust.

"I'm sorry, Erik, I should've warned you. I had forgotten how unpleasant a first time Apparition can be." Anatole said softly.

"Apparition?" Erik gasped.

"One of the many forms of wizard transportation. Just focus on where you want to go and you'll be there in under a minute. In our case we have arrived in the Highlands and are within walking distance of the Manor House." Anatole explained.

"Impossible." Erik said quietly.

"For our kind very few things are. Are you feeling all right, Erik?" Anatole asked his eyes gleaming with concern.

Erik nodded though his legs still felt weak and his stomach slightly clenched his stubborn pride would not allow him to show further weakness, especially not in front of his father.

"Come then. The Manor House is just over this hill." Anatole said helping Erik to his feet.

The both of them drew the hoods of their cloaks up to somehow fend off the sharp cold sea breeze that surged down the hill and into the field with malicious force.

"Nights like these make me wish I wore a full mask." Anatole commented absently as they proceeded to climb the steep hill Erik staying by his father's side like a newborn foal.

"Can I ask you something, Father?" Erik asked.

"Unless you've suddenly become mute." Anatole remarked.

Erik ignored the remark and asked, "How did Dr. Barye know to contact you? How did he know that you and I were flesh and blood?"

Anatole sighed, "Etienne Barye and I were playmates until it was discovered that Etienne was a Squib, a person with strong wizarding blood but no magical abilities at all. Squibs are frowned upon by our kind and it was for that reason that both Etienne and his mother, who refused to part with him, were cast out of their home. I, however, kept in touch with Etienne over the years with the help of your grandmother Liona. I learned that his mother had found employment in the household of Matthew Morel, your maternal grandfather, and we managed to meet occasionally over the years. It was on one of those visits that your mother and I first met." Anatole said with a hint of fondness in his tone.

Before either of them could say anymore they had reached the top of the hill and beheld the imposing structure that was the Garron Manor House.

It was a tall three-story mansion composed of pale grey stone walls, dark green shingles and shutters, and thick tendrils of deep green ivy had wound itself around an entire side wall. Thin smoke was belching out of the ivy covered chimney and a few of the lower level windows were glowing a soft orange yellow color giving the home a cozy feeling.

"Home sweet home. I see Izzy is preparing dinner for us now." Anatole observed.

"Izzy?" Erik inquired.

"Our house elf. Just tell Izzy what you want and he will move mountains to get it for you," Anatole explained, "Your grandparents left him as well as the house and property to me when they moved to Italy." Anatole added as he rapped the solid gold door knocker, which was cast in the shape of a shield with a letter "G" and perched eagle carved into it.

"Our family crest." Anatole replied as the door swung open and they stepped inside.

Erik and Anatole emerged into a warm dimly lit entryway with dark polished wood floors covered by elegant Persian rugs, white walls; which were dominated by extravagant paintings of people in ancient clothing and unless Erik's eyes were deceiving him the paintings' subjects were smiling and waving merrily at him.

"Good evening, Master Garron. It is good to see you back so quickly, sir. I see you have brought a visitor." said a quiet yet high-pitched voice at Erik's elbow.

Erik jumped in surprise. Standing beside him was a small bat like creature with huge ears, enormous green eyes bigger than Anatoli's fist, a long thin nose, and light brown slightly shriveled skin. It was wearing what appeared to be a crisp white pillowcase with the Garron family crest stitched near the left shoulder with blue and bronze thread and a pleasant smile.

"Izzy, this is my son Erik. Have his rooms been prepared?" Anatole asked.

"Yes, sir. All of the young master's belongings arrived safely and have all been unpacked." Izzy answered bowing so low that the tip of his nose scraped the rug.

At the mention of his possessions Erik's jaw dropped and Anatole chuckled, "After I taught Charles his lesson I went to your room, packed everything, and sent it here." he quickly explained.

"If anything is misplaced, young master Garron, then I will happily slam the door on all of my fingers, sir." Izzy said eagerly.

"That won't be necessary, Izzy, wait…what did you call me?" Erik demanded.

"Young master Garron? Is there something else you would prefer to be addressed as?" Izzy inquired obviously confused.

Erik glanced up at his father.

Anatole shrugged, "It's your choice, Erik. If you wished to be addressed as Harquin then so be it." Anatole said bluntly.

Erik thought for a moment then replied, "Young master Garron will be just fine as well as Erik."

As Izzy led Erik upstairs to his new bedroom the boy mused over his new name.

'Erik James Garron.' Erik thought with a wide grin. It sounded better each time he thought of it.

Life at the Garron Manor House was as far from the routines of the Harquin Estate as one could imagine.

Every week Erik posted letters to his mother and sister describing portraits that could move as well as hold a conversation, peculiar smells and bangs coming from the wine cellar where Anatole brewed potions, a headless ghost who insisted on crashing about in the main gallery whenever it felt forgotten, and a rather annoying pixie infestation in the spare bedroom curtains.

Erik had first come across the pixies on his first day at the Manor House when he and Anatole were having lunch in the kitchen and one of the pixies had scurried across the table sniffing around for scraps.

Erik's mouth paused over his sandwich as the small blue skinned creature calmly began nibbling at a strawberry tart.

When Erik finally found his voice he asked quietly, "Father, are there such things as blue mice?"

Anatole crumbled the tart in his hand and held it out for the pixie. The creature cautiously sniffed his hand then proceeded to feast on the offered crumbs.

Anatole smirked, "In my experience, not while you're sober, son."

Erik spent his days exploring the house, combing through the library, and walking about the grounds with his sketchbook and pencils in hand. In the evenings Erik was in the library with Anatole being helped with his handwriting and tutored on the wizarding way of life.

It was on one of those nights over a game of Wizard Chess that Erik learned about Rowena Ravenclaw and the other three founders of Hogwarts. At the conclusion of Anatoli's tale Erik felt his heart soar at the thought of being a descendant of such a legendary figure.

Anatole smiled, "You're a lot like her, Erik. You're very clever and a gifted architect. It was Rowena, who designed the Hogwarts castle itself along with the floor plan. So if you ever lose your way you'll have Rowena to thank for that." Anatole said chuckling.

"But what if I don't make it into Hogwarts? I don't even know any spells." Erik mumbled.

"You'll make it besides underage wizards are not allowed to practice magic outside of school. You don't need to know any magic to get into Hogwarts anyway. The professors take care of that." Anatole said comfortingly but Erik wasn't so sure.

Two weeks after his arrival at the Garron Manor House Erik sat down to breakfast just as an impressive Tawny owl swooped in through an open window.

The owl flew over Izzy dropping the thin stack of envelopes it carried into his waiting arms before it landed on the back of a vacant chair.

"Good morning, Alistair." Erik greeted.

Alistair, Anatole's owl, hooted in response and helped himself to the few pieces of bacon Erik offered.

Izzy placed a letter for Anatole at his usual spot then handed two envelopes to Erik before scurrying off to check on the porridge.

The first envelope written in black ink was a reply to letter Erik had sent to his mother a few days earlier. Erik quickly thumbed open the letter and read what his mother had to say:

Dear Erik,

I'm glad that you're well and enjoying being with your father. I'm so sorry I never told you, Erik. I just wanted what I thought was best for you. Elaina misses you terribly and is always so excited when your letters come. She sends her love and hopes that you'll write back soon.

Charles still has no memory of that night save for the deal he closed with the Martins. He never mentions your name and dotes on Elaina though she is still bitter. Tell Anatole I said hello and send my regards. I hope you're eating enough. Be a good boy, Erik, and keep practicing your writing. I'm so glad to see the progress you've made with your penmanship.

Love always,

Mother

Erik smiled as he placed the first letter aside then set his sights on the second letter. It was a slightly yellowed envelope with dazzling pink ink writing on it.

Mr. E Garron

Bedroom at the top of the stairs

Garron Manor House

Wick

Caithness

On the back was a strange wax crest with a lion, eagle, badger, and serpent surrounding a grand letter "H".

Erik gulped as he broke the seal and discovered a written in the same pink ink and bearing the message:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmistress: Antoinette Giry

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Chf. Witch, Grand Sorceress, Order of Morgana, First Class)

Dear Mr. Garron,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins September 1st. We expect your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours most sincerely,

Priscilla Pomfrey

Deputy Headmistress

Erik's hands were trembling and he had suddenly lost all powers of speech. He'd done it! He was going to a real wizarding school!

Anatole chose that moment to enter the kitchen. His eyes traveled from Erik to the envelope and Anatole let out a triumphant cry and embraced Erik so tightly that the younger Garron feared his ribs would crack.

"You did it, Erik! I knew you could! I never doubted for a second! Erik, this is fantastic!" Anatole howled with delight.

Erik smiled as well but maneuvered out of his father's bone crushing hug. Anatole didn't seem notice and quickly read over the letter then rolled his eyes.

"Priscilla. I should've known." Anatole muttered.

"The deputy headmistress? Do you know her?" Erik asked.

Anatole nodded, "Unfortunately yes. You see, Erik, I am quite the eligible bachelor. Priscilla Pomfrey is the Charms Professor at Hogwarts and the Head of Hufflepuff House. Priscilla has been trying to work her own "charms" on me for years though I am polite and have yet to return her affections. I'm just not interested in courtship." he said shrugging.

Anatole then muttered something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, "Not since your mother." but Erik couldn't be certain still it made him happy to at least think that his mother had been the only one to snare his father's heart.

"Let's have a look at your equipment list then shall we?" Anatole said quickly retrieving a second piece of paper from the Hogwarts envelope and reading it over.

"Basic stuff." he said after a moment then handed the list to Erik.

"But where are we going to buy all of it? I don't know of any shops in Britain that sell magic wands." Erik demanded.

"You don't know them all. We'll go to London for your supplies and I need to stock up as well." Anatole clarified.

"How will we get there?" Erik asked nervously. He was not eager to Apparate again.

"We could Apparate or use Floo Powder. Whichever you prefer. Either way we'll leave after breakfast." Anatole suggested.

"Could we use Floo Powder this time?" Erik asked.

"Of course."

Half an hour later Erik and Anatole were standing in front of the drawing room fireplace. Izzy was there as well holding a lavishly decorated china vase near filled with glittering grey powder.

"Izzy, go to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron and wait for Erik to come out." Anatole ordered.

The house elf bowed his head then snapped his fingers and vanished with a loud crack.

The vase now hovered in mid-air where Izzy had been holding it. The vase floated over to Erik.

"Now, Erik, take a pinch of Floo Powder, throw it in the fireplace, and then go into the fire." Anatole instructed.

"Are you mad?" Erik snapped.

"Do you honestly believe that I would make you do something where your safety would be at risk? There is nothing to it. Just throw the powder into the fireplace and yell out Leaky Cauldron. Remember to say it very clearly or you may end up stuck in the wrong chimney." Anatole answered.