Chapter 6: Ghosts of the Past

"HE CALLED YOU A WHAT?!"

Nim covered his ears as Rowena yelled. It was lunch time and as promised, Gisele, Rowena, Nim, and Cyril, who Rowena had passed in the hall on her way to flying lessons, had all met up for lunch. Matilda had failed to join them. In between crunchy bites of peanut butter and sweet raspberry jam, they'd filled each other on how their first days were progressing. However, at the mention of his encounter with Bill, Cyril and Gisele had gasped and Rowena…well…

"I'm going to find that git and punch him so hard that I'll knock out all of his magic." She scowled and punched her fists together with menacing intent.

"What does it mean anyways?" Nim asked.

"It's the worst thing you can call someone who is 'muggle-born'." She said.

"I mean how did he even know anyways?" Gisele asked. "You haven't told anyone have you?"

"No I didn't…think it mattered…" Nim felt his heart sink. His first day at Hogwarts and he was already feeling like the odd person out. Then it hit him, he had told at least one person the night before about it…but Eldora wouldn't…would she?

"It doesn't." Rowena snapped. She stood up. "I'm going to find that sorry little prat and make him apologize."

"I don't think that's going to help." Nim took another bite of his sandwich. He just wanted to get through the rest of the day and not have something crazy or weird happen to him. But he was at a school for wizards and witches. Maybe this was just every day to day happenings.

A blond, freckled student with thick framed glasses walked over.

"I'm looking for a Nimbus Albacore?" He asked.

Great. Just what he needed. He rolled his eyes. He just wanted to have a nice lunch with his friends.

"Yes that's me." He said.

"You've been summoned by Headmaster Potter." The boy said, handing him a parchment.

"I have?" He looked astonished and took the parchment. After unrolling it, he read:

Mr. Albacore,

Please stop by my office before the end of the hour. I'd like to discus a report given to me earlier.

Thank you,

Potter

"I-I gotta go." He said and got up. He waved to the others. "Same time tomorrow?" They all nodded.

Nim was lead by the boy back into the castle to a stone gargoyle. It looked to be guarding an entry way of some sort.

"Gingersnaps." The boy said. The Gargoyle shifted and twisted, revealing a spiraling staircase that lead up behind it. The shifting stirred up dust, making Nim cough. "Alright. Good luck."

Nim passed the gargoyle and began climbing up the stone circular tower. The cold, unwelcoming feel as he ran his hand along the wall gave him a foreboding sensation. Why would the Headmaster want to see him? Had he done something worth being expelled over on the first day of class?

Eventually, he came into a chamber. It was odd and unkempt. There were papers everywhere, a bird cage on one side, and a number of pictures and tapestries draped over. An odd, putrid smell made his nose twitch. He rubbed it and noticed a cauldron bubbling some very peculiar blue liquid.

"Nimbus, my boy!"

Nim jumped. The voice behind him chuckled and Nim saw the headmaster standing behind him, holding something slimy and wriggling. He wrinkled his nose as the fresh swamp scent began to waft around the room.

"Oh right," Headmaster Potter walked past him. He tossed the wriggling…whatever they were…into the cauldron. It sparked an a small puff of smoke emitted. "That should do it, just gotta let it sit overnight. Splendid!" He turned back. "Please, please Mr. Albacore, have a seat." He smiled. Unlike the stone hallways that lead up to this room, Headmaster Potter's smile tickled the edges of his beard giving the room an air of warmth. Feeling comfortable finally, Nim took a seat.

"So…how has your first day gone so far?" He put his fingers together and sat down on the other side of his crowded desk. He looked down and before Nim could begin he muttered something. The papers floated into neat little piles. "Better. You were saying?"

"It's…alright." Nim said. He shrugged half-heartedly.

"I think," Headmaster Potter pulled out a piece of parchment. "This report contradicts that statement."

Nim felt his cheeks turn red and looked down. Whatever warm feeling he had was slowly sinking.

"I hear you were harassed by another student?" He peered from over the parchment.

Nim looked up. He wasn't in trouble? He felt his body tremble. He'd thought for sure he was going to be expelled.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about." He said, fighting back a tear.

"I hear a derogatory word was used to describe your lineage." He put the parchment down. "There is nothing wrong with being muggle born Nimbus. I just want you to know that."

Nim nodded. He felt a small gasp emit as a grin broke his trembling lips. A tear escaped, but he wiped it away. "So, I'm not expelled?" He said after regaining his posture.

"Heavens no. Why would I do that?" Headmaster Potter blinked. He broke into a laugh. "Dear me, I should probably have been more specific in that request. I'm sorry for worrying you m'boy. Now, I plan to take points away from Slytherin for that other student calling you that. I want you to tell me if anyone ever calls you that again. I don't tolerate that mentality. One of my best friends is muggle born. She was teased so much…people can be relentless. But she was the smartest, cleverest, and bravest witch in our class, including myself."

Nim nodded.

"Alright, well that's mostly what I wanted to talk about, however I noticed something about your file…are you related to a former staff member?" He asked.

"I guess." Nim said.

"Oh my, Argus Filch. I had no idea…when did he have a daughter?" Headmaster Potter seemed lost in thought for a moment. "No matter. How is your grandfather these days?"

"He's…umm…" Nim tried to think of the word.

"Dreadful?" Headmaster Potter couldn't help stifling a snicker. "No need to shy away boy, I spent seven years with him. I know how he can get."

Nim raised an eyebrow. He gathered Headmaster Potter wasn't much for subtlety. "Something like that…" He looked away.

"Are you being treated okay?" Headmaster Potter now leaned over the desk and peered into Nimbus' eyes.

"I'm fine, really. I love it here. Thank you." Nim wanted for nothing more than to get off this topic.

"I see. Well luckily for you, I have a Hogwarts house elf employed for his care. However, if you aren't being treated well, I want to help you." Headmaster Potter smiled. His face seemed earnest.

"I think that helped. I really can't thank you enough… I was so worried I was going to wake up or be expelled…this just. It's…" His lip trembled. God why couldn't he hold it together?

"This might come as a surprise," Headmaster Potter leaned back. "But I was raised by some of the nastiest muggles you'd ever meet."

Nim's eyes went wide. "You did?"

"Yeah. They were awful. They made me live in a cupboard under the stairs for the first eleven years of my life." Headmaster Potter said. A twinge of sadness passed along his face. It passed.

"I live in a small metal house." Nim said. "Before that…" He suddenly tensed up. He started thinking about the house he'd grown up in, and seeing his family motionless on the floor.

"Tell me about it Nimbus."

Nim wasn't sure what to say. It was hard enough to recall. With a trembling lip, he started blubbering. As soon as Headmaster Potter handed him a tissue, Nim managed to at least get out how he'd grown up, how his family had died, and about having to live with his grandfather.

When he was done, Headmaster Potter sat in silence. After a couple moments, he opened his mouth. "I can't imagine what you went through." He stood up and walked over to Nim, knelt down, and wrapped his arms around the boy. Nim let out an exasperated cry. It was the second time in two years that he'd been hugged by someone, the last being Professor Coremund in the Leaky Cauldron.

Nim wrapped his arms around the Headmaster in return. For the first time in almost two years, he cried, thinking about his family. For a few minutes, he leaned into the warm embrace and just let the salty, stinging tears flow.

"There, there." Headmaster Potter patted his back. After a couple minutes, he let go. "Accio." He pointed to a chair that slid over and positioned itself beneath him. "Nim I want to tell you a story. It's about one of the Greatest Wizards to ever live. He was also the Darkest. His name was Voldemort…" Nim listened as Headmaster Potter told Nim the story about an orphaned boy named Tom Riddle, whose mother had died during childbirth and father had abandoned him. This boy would grow up, never knowing true love, and instead finding solace in power. He was charming and drew in a lot of other wizards under the common goal of ridding the world of muggles, muggle born wizards, and muggle supporting wizards. Casting aside his former name and ties to muggles entirely, Riddle had declared himself Lord Voldemort and begin the dark age of wizarding. Just when it seemed as if Voldemort was unstoppable, a simple act of love, brought his downfall. A mother gave her life to protect her infant, and as a result, caused a chain reaction that stole Voldemort of his power. A curse, meant to kill her child, instead sapped Voldemort of his power and he vanished, much like he had risen.

"And thus, with his mother's love, the boy survived and later became the hero who vanquished Voldemort when he attempted to take power again, 17 years later." Headmaster Potter finished.

"I'm not sure I follow." Nim said. It was a good story and all, but he wasn't sure how it pertained to this situation.

"It's not…exactly the same. But Nimbus, I believe your family loved you very much and I think…they knew that too. Love is a strong bond. Words alone cannot break it unless it wasn't really love to begin with." Headmaster Potter rubbed the scar on his forehead. "I bear a mark given by love, by a woman I never got to know." A single tear ran down his cheek. "I'd have given anything for one day with her…and I never got that chance. Though you had hard times, and you had difficulties with your life…you had parents who fought to keep a roof over your head, and a brother to butt heads with. They live on in you, in ways you cannot fathom." He gave a weak smile and wiped the tear away. "I'm not saying to let it go. Just…don't forget."

"You're the boy." Nim suddenly understood.

"Indeed I am." He replied. "I want you to take every minute at this school, which takes the broken and the downtrodden, and learn everything it has to give you. I am a better man for having been accepted here. I can almost guarantee you will be too." He smiled. "If you ever truly need me, just call. I have a guess we will meet many times."

"Thank you." Nim said. He felt better, somehow more connected a place than he ever had before.

"You are welcome. There's, one more thing I'd like to discuss if you have some time."

Nim looked at his schedule. His next class wasn't for a bit. "Alright."

"I received, a rather alarming report from Mr. Yance at the Ministry of Magic. He says you were attacked in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? Would you mind recalling that?"

Nim nodded and explained what had happened in the joke shop.

"Fascinating. I'm thrilled you are okay. Has…anything else happened?"

Nim hesitated. He didn't know what all to say. Part of him debated mentioning the elf, but the other part wasn't sure. He felt insane just thinking about it. Then something else crossed his mind.

"Come to think of it, yeah." Nim said. "The boy…the one who called me that name. When I shook his hand on the train, there was a shock."

"A shock you say?" Headmaster Potter asked.

"Yeah."

"Can you describe it?"

"Well," Nim pondered this a moment. "I think it was like being shocked by static, but it didn't hurt…"

"Interesting. I haven't heard of that before." The Headmaster stood up and paced. After awhile he shook his head. "Yeah, I haven't. Let me do some research on it and see if it's worth investigating. And, while you're here…" He held out a small ring and gave it to him. "Wear this. If you are being attacked in joke shops, I'm not going to take a chance. If you are in mortal danger, it will alert me so that I may aid you. Stay vigilant."

"Thanks."

"Now, unless there's something else, you are free to go." Headmaster Potter sat down.

"I'm alright. I really…appreciate this." Nim stood up. But as he turned, he was stopped.

"I won't lie, I'm a tad curious."

Nim turned around and saw the Headmaster walk over with his arm outstretched. He stopped and waited. Nim took his hand and shook it. Nothing happened.

"Ah well, was hoping to see if I could gather more information." He shrugged and walked away.

Nim felt better after his meeting with the Headmaster. There were still a few minutes left of lunch. Nim debated going back to the gang and checking in before his next class. Just as he'd made up his mind, something caught his eye as he passed by a window in the tower as he descended.

There was a figure standing at the edge of a large forest that surrounded the outer bounds of the castle. He squinted, trying to get a better look, and then it came into focus. His eyes widened and he felt his heart stop. He recognized the slicked over, dark hair and the word "Nimbooger" whispered in his ear and crept into his body, spreading like a virus. Then the boy looked up, as if looking right into Nim's soul and he knew without a doubt.

It was Rathley.

A/N: I had some dialog that I thought would help illustrate a point for Nim, not really knowing the bad word for muggle born, but realized how distracting it was and removed it. Thank you to the reader who pointed it out. Hope you are enjoying :)