There was no doubt that this was the right place, he just needed a second to process it. He was sure this wasn't what they called the bayou. It was a city street. A town. He saw enclosed terraces and people sitting behind screens. Some saw him through the rain, squinting, uncertain of where he had just come from. He tried not to be any more conspicuous and dashed the rest of the way up Thella's walk. He took her porch steps two at a time and hovered in the shelter of her large roofed porch. There were lots of plants and lacquer patio furniture. A a woman's road bike leaned against the inner railing, with tennis shoes left and forgotten to get soggy. The air was muggy, but rising wind chilled him through his clothes. Without a coat or umbrella, he'd been totally unprepared for the environment. He wanted to spell a hooded jacket, but couldn't be sure who was watching him. He was a little disoriented and not quite sure of what to say, but if she was willing to see him, that was all the space he needed to get on with this.
He rang the bell. A light clicked on, on the monitor and he knew that he was on camera.
"Um, it's me. Harry Potter. I'm sorry to drop in like this. And at a bad time, apparently. This is totally spontaneous and I need to talk to Thella Majorie. She said I could look her up if I'm ever in town. It's very important or I wouldn't dare barge in on her like this."
No one answered right away, but the light blinked. Well, someone was obviously home, even if it wasn't her. He felt hopeful just getting here. If he had to wait, he would. His brain was still spinning from the speed at which everything was unfolding. Lightning and thunder made him jump, and wish for better circumstances, but he told himself that it was all going to work out.
The door swung inward and on the other side of the screen, a large man crinkled his face down at Harry. "We're closed, buddy. Whoever you're looking for, they can wait till this storm passes."
He sounded incredulous, and it occurred to Harry that, while it was around midnight in the UK, it must've been early evening here. He couldn't tell. He wasn't prepared.
"Thella. She said she'd see me." He couldn't remember if she'd really said that, or if he just made it up because they'd had a good talk or two.
They eyed him up and down, clearly suspicious of anyone without a coat or protection, and apparently without a vehicle, in this weather. Was he her boyfriend? His dark skin made his eyes appear more red and blood-shot than they really were. He had a shaved head, bullet-shaped head and wore a jersey over his lounging pajamas. His clothes were tight over muscles that must've worked out every day. Harry had to look up at him.
The guy looked wary. His tone wasn't very promising. "Can it wait? This is her day off, man."
"I didn't know that. And this is an emergency. I know I look crazy, all wet like this. But I met her a few weeks ago…" He wasn't sure how much he could say. He didn't detect any magic on the guy. "Something's come up. It has to do with my kid. My daughter. If you tell her it's Harry Potter, she'll see me right away. I know she will."
The guy looked like he was still considering it, when a soft voice behind him slipped past. "Harry Potter. It's okay, Jerard. I'll see him."
Jerard gave Harry an uneasy assessment before moving so that Thella could come forward. In that narrow hall, she pushed the screen open and held it. "I thought I felt you out here, but I didn't believe it. Then I got an odd text saying that you were arriving in thirty seconds. What have you gotten yourself into Mr. Potter?"
The last time he'd seen her, she was hidden in the dark, outside her travel tent, and using her slender hands to remind him to use the talisman she'd created for him. She helped him ward off Greg, his celebrity quidditch teammate. The sight of her two-toned face, her friendly smile and thick poofy hair, reminded him of the kindness she had shown. He was so grateful to see her, if a little unbalanced by the last twenty minutes. He honestly felt faint, but was determined not to admit it.
She shook her head, reading him. "Come in. You can dry off, do your magic in here. Don't worry about Jerard. My boyfriend knows I keep strange company."
As she spoke, he could see Jerard standing down the hall, within earshot. He took a moment to vanish the wetness from his hair and clothes and transformed a towel she gave him, into a jacket to bring his body temperature back to normal. He followed her when she beckoned, arriving in her kitchen. It was Jerard who asked if he preferred tea or coffee. "I can tell from your accent, you may not be a coffee drinker," he added with a friendlier change in attitude.
"I'll drink coffee. Whatever you've got." He would've appreciated any hot drink at the moment. Just something to anchor his nerves as he sipped and pretended he knew what he was doing. Jerard brewed him a blend that smelled better than it tasted, and served it with a slice of lemon cake. Harry noticed that he never really smiled, but handled the cup and dishes with polite carefulness that conveyed his civility."
While Thella stepped out, Harry asked, "How long have you been together?"
"A while. You must excuse me, she has asked me not to talk to you. You're carrying something dark, but she insisted on letting you in. I'll have to cleanse the house when you leave. I'm a practicing medium as well, and what you have is very hostile. It's attracting all your troubles and more entities surround you."
Harry tried to keep his offense hidden. He recovered quickly. "Would you rather we meet outside, on the porch?" He assumed that Jerard meant the photograph, and tried to be mature about it. Honestly, there was something wrong about the thing, and he could understand if psychically sensitive people could feel it.
Jerard shook his head. "This is her home. If she wants you here, then this is where she needs you. She'll use the kitchen to help you."
Harry sipped his tea, looking around the pastel-blue kitchen, and all of its white cabinets and spotless homeyness. It was an attempt to prove that he was fine with being something of a scourge inside this lovely home. He wasn't, but he wouldn't let Jerard see that his feelings were hurt.
The large man covered the remaining cake, returned it to the refrigerator and cleaned each utensil in the sink, ignoring the dishwasher, before turning to go. Harry blurted, "Sorry. I don't mean to bring anything bad into your home. I am in a lot of trouble, and Thella is the only one who might be able to help me. I don't know how much you know about… people like me, but there's no where else I can turn to, or I wouldn't bother her."
"Say no more. I'll trust her to handle it. You're not at fault. What you carry, is a power greater than any one person. I don't have to know you, to know that you must be exceptional to hold up against the forces bearing down on you."
Harry leaned forward. "Can you at least tell me if it's evil? I can put it somewhere else, if it's tainted with dark magic."
"What I'm seeing, can't be separated from you. Where would you put it? How would you separate yourself from it? If you could've, you would've done so already."
"So it's not the photograph?"
"It's not any one thing. Certainly not a photograph. It's a field of hostile resonance, like memories of hate, from many sources. Different spirits can live in that field, as it meets their needs and feeds them the energy that is most satisfying to them. You are kept hating and searching. You are kept angry. This is the cloud you have brought into this house."
Harry reached into his pocket and dug out the photo. "Then what about this? Can you sense anything wrong with this image?"
If this guy was a muggle with psychic abilities, he wouldn't see Eileen's movements, or would he? Could he still read the energy? Harry didn't want to take the photo home if it had anything to do with the dark cloud that Jerard was speaking of.
Jerard peered at the image without touching it. "The woman is a witch, but there is no harm coming from her. If anything, she's trying to help you. She offers protection."
"Are you sure?" Harry hated the suspicion he heard in his voice, but since realizing how aware Eileen was of him, it brought back the same anxieties of dealing with horcruxes and not knowing who to trust. No matter how well-meaning Jipsy was, someone could've planted the photo with some hidden magic to try to get to him. He knew that sounded crazy and paranoid, but that's where he was right now.
Jerard decided to be forthcoming. "It isn't the photo that's giving off the negative energy. It's you. It fills you. You are troubled because each step you take, is a war over your soul. Many powerful beings are fighting to live through you, to get you to embrace your anger. If they can achieve that, they can control you."
This stunned Harry into mute silence as Jerard walked out. Thella brushed by him, her head popping in just as her boyfriend glanced over his shoulder.
She had been wearing pajamas, but now changed into a jogging suit and socks. The change conveyed that he had interrupted an intimate, rainy evening by bringing bad omens into her home.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. I look a mess. I know I'm psychic, but I wasn't expecting company. I dialed it down for today, I'm afraid. That's the only way I can rest."
"You look fine, I'm just happy to see you. Your boyfriend seems perfect for you. He says I've brought dark energy into your home."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. I told him not to talk."
"What does he mean? What is it about me? The curse?"
She went to the stove and poured herself a cup of tea. "Don't let it get to you. He's old fashioned, he grew up with a lot of Laveau deciples. Haiti's finest. He automatically tunes in to the worst stuff."
"He said there was a war for my soul."
"That's just apocalyptic talk for waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You're cranky, you've got good reason to be. It's all in the interpretation. He calls it dark energy, I call it troubled magic. Trauma. It's nothing I haven't told you, which is why I made the amulet for you, which you're not wearing."
"My daughter needed it more than I do."
"Wrong. Your daughter has her pure innocence keeping her in the light. She's always tuned into it. You're the one who needs to be alert and watch what you're doing, so that you can make the best decisions for her. If you suffer, she'll suffer for not having you there. That's how it works."
He held up the photo. "I'm here to get answers. To get inside this picture. Now your boyfriend has got me worried about a whole bunch of other stuff."
She squinted at the photo and sat down at the table. "Ooh! Old school witch. And she's kicking up energy. Who is she?"
Harry tested her. "You tell me."
"You're gonna make me work, after showing up on my doorstep begging for my help?"
"Eileen Prince. But I don't know a whole lot more than that. Can you see any life or movement from this picture?"
"Um, no. She's sitting there staring me down. Cute baby."
"On tour, you had a tent with murals inside. They were of houses, like plantations or something. I remember there were people in the windows, like they were moving around. I thought those were wizard paintings, but if you can't see what she's really doing, I don't know what I saw."
She thought for a moment. "Those were done by a Turkish friend of mine, as payment. A wizard. I keep them in my shop, in the basement. I've always seen the lights flickering on and off and I think they contain the spirits of whoever lived in those mansions, but I thought of them as deceased. Just some harmless ghosts living in an image. My curiosity stopped there. They're images of a bygone era. I have no interest in antibellum times of slavery. The nightscapes are just beautiful. That's the only reason I keep them. Shit, if there are slaves in there plotting away, I don't know if I want that energy in my house or not."
He winced for her.
"Just kidding. They're entirely benevolent and filled with blessings."
He breathed easier, then launched into an explanation. "The woman in this photo wants me to come inside of it. She communicated to me through her embroidery. She's deceased. For wizards, it's nothing to see dead people up and about in pictures. At my old school, they could even talk from really skillful paintings. But she has something to tell me and needs me there. I thought, if you knew how your murals worked, you might be able to get me inside the photo. Actually, the woman in the picture suggested you by name. I think she read my mind."
Thella's wide eyes told him she was good and alert now.
"I'm looking for information to help my daughter, and this woman has it."
After some back and forth, he caught her up on quitting the tour, Iece's hospitalization, and his determination to find Snape. "That's him when he was a baby. Eileen is his mother. I'm on my way back to my old school to find another picture, just so that I can talk to the final, most accurate image of him. It's the closest thing I have to the real person. Like I said, at school, those paintings can talk. It's part of the castle's magic. But not this photo, and not any wizard photo I've come across so far. Now she's contacting me and I can't break through to talk to her. Her embroidery is very limited."
It was a lot for Thella to digest, but she held on. At the end of it all, she stared at the space in front of her, looking for a solution.
"Well, I don't know spells the way you do. My ancestral magic helps me when I need it, and you've got more than enough for that. How do we get you inside a picture? I'm not entirely sure that's a good idea. I know people who travel to other realities, even fictional ones, but they have a lot of experience under their belts."
She picked up the photo that Harry had slid to her. She found the young woman intriguing and her baby adorable. She looked back up at him, then down again. She frowned and held the photo out, next to his face. "You… you look like her. You have a very similar light around you."
"My house elf says we're related, but she can't tell me how."
"Oh? I wish you had your talisman. That might help."
He emphasized his reasons for leaving it with Iece. "She was so sick. If my family can protect anyone, it should be her. She's better off with it than I am," he repeated.
"She's got her own built in protection, and your family is all over it. You're the one running around getting into trouble. You're stirring up a lot of unfavorable conditions. Your ancestral love is its most effective when you stay at their level."
"I have too many problems to solve, to go around thinking that love, peace, and harmony hold the answers to everything. Snape has answers that could help my child. Something happened since I last saw you."
"It doesn't matter, no matter what it looks like. You can't put out a fire with fire. That old saying is terribly misleading. Love is the only thing powerful enough to put it out."
"Or water."
"What?"
"I've never seen love put out a real fire. That's just something idealist's harp about. It takes work, a fight and struggle, to get it done. I've gotta fight to get my daughter the help she needs."
Thella's cup stopped midway to her mouth. She broke eye contact with him and stared at nothing in front of her. "Your mother is here. She says all of the danger is coming from your fear. Matters could resolve themselves if you let them."
"And how many trips to the hospital does that involve? How much medication do I have to keep her dosed with, just to be able to say, things aren't as bad as they seem? She was born a beautiful little girl. Perfect. And I didn't appreciate it. I was wrapped up in my problems. Now, it's like she's undergoing a horrible deformation. She might never be normal again. How am I supposed to deal with that?"
He stopped being cautious with the secret. "Her body changes its sex. She runs fevers and becomes male, then it all reverses. It causes her magic to get out of control. She's only two. I can't watch my baby go through that. It's a painful metamorphosis. A curse. My curse. I was attacked with it years ago, and now she's suffering from it. I'm sorry, thoughts of happiness and puppies and flowers, just aren't going to cut it. I've hidden that from the world, by the way, so don't you dare tell another soul."
She took his arm. "Harry, at the level of love, there are no secrets. Everything you've been through is written on your soul. Anyone can read it if they know how, and you can read anyone's. But the beauty is, anyone who can read it, is also at a level of knowing that it cannot be used against you. That's why no one is any better or worse than anyone else. You've successfully suppressed that curse. If your daughter wants to do the same thing, in time she'll learn to. You don't need to fight to prove your love for her. You don't need to sacrifice your happiness or turn everything into a war. Just decide that you are going to be happy raising her, curse or not, and every factor involved will line up and cooperate with it."
There was something about her tone that made him look into her face, searching deeply for his mother's wisdom. At that moment, her soft words felt exactly the way he imagined his mother's love felt.
She tried to make it simple. "When I say 'love,' I'm not talking climbing any mountains. It's just a tiny, but clear decision, that has huge effects. When you're angry, it's okay to be angry. But when you act, stop and insert your best intention for your daughter, and that will make all the difference. That's all I mean by love. When you do this, you're putting an omniscient force in the drivers seat. One that knows the ancestors, that knows you, your child, and takes all of that into consideration far better than our little brains can. Then trust it. If you can remember that, you can have any answer you want. Any solution. But you must not insist on an outcome that you have to fight to put into place. Your daughter's will is involved in this. As small as she is, you don't get to decide how her childhood experiences will shape her life. That masterpiece is hers."
"And my job is to keep her safe. I have to stay pissed off enough to get her the help she needs, and Snape is the one I'm pinning my hopes on. I'll go through any barrier."
She reminded him, "Yeah, but you suffered at the hands of adults when you were a child, and you cursed it, but you wouldn't take anything for what it taught you about appreciating family and standing up for yourself. This curse is going to teach her things about who people really are behind their physical attributes, about loving herself and others, that she can't learn any other way. It's going to be beyond anything that you and I know. I know that what they did to you was wrong, but don't underestimate her ability to grow around it and dominate it. She doesn't have the biases and prejudices that adults have. She hasn't learned to fear what people think. So don't panic. Don't pin all your hopes on finding this man who doesn't want to be found."
He swallowed, and firmly held onto his decision. "I didn't come here to be talked out of this. If you won't help me, I'll keep looking for someone who can."
She made a bear-like groan. Exaggerated but filled with every ounce of frustration she could put into it.
"I didn't say I wouldn't help you. I'm trying to get you into the right frame of mind. You can't go into an alternate reality with so much anger. I told you before, this Snape guy has a way of keeping guard against any intrusion. The woman in that picture is no different. When you're in her world, you're going to arouse all kinds of psychic activity. You might even alert him. He'll feel your rage before he even knows who you are. Remember when your father came through, because you were angry and demanding it? You got the worst part of him that you could imagine. Whatever you're feeling, you're going to attract at that same level. Your state of mind determines what kind of experience you're going to have.
"If you don't learn to cultivate love – dammit, I know I'm saying it too much, but there's no other substitute – you'll just be a victim running from attackers that you give power. The kind of pain that you're in, can only create more pain, until you let it go. In fact, I have no doubt that you could've gotten into the picture on your own, but your magic kept you from going as a way of protecting you. This witch isn't dangerous. Well, she's a little dangerous, but not towards you. Love is real. It can be a solid mechanism, if you're willing to use it like one. Hell, it can even be a technology, but you have to set aside your rage."
He didn't know how to suddenly stop being upset at will. "That word. Love," he sneered. "It's always something people feel, not tangible. Weak, like smoke. Not like something I can pick up and see how it's affecting me. It hardly seems real next the feelings that get things done."
"That's because you've been used to survival and the world of action and struggle. If you go into any other alternate reality from this one, those rules change. Hell, they change anyway, but you'll really notice if you get there. Fighting, kicking in doors, manipulating with action and force, keep you chained to unending effort. Effort works in the lower worlds, but problems also arise in those same worlds. All your issues came from people struggling to gain the upper hand, whether harm was inflicted upon you, or whether you did it to others. And that's the world you know. Love looks like flimsy, ineffective feelings to you, because it's so far reaching, the world of action can't comprehend it. It's everywhere at once, while effort and taking action, can only be in any one place at a time.
"You know what loving your daughter feels like, whether you can make it tangible or not. I can love someone on the other side of the world, and they'll feel it. They'll benefit. But if I lift a hammer, its effects can only be felt and seen in the small spot I'm standing in. And that's why you don't put as much belief into love. You're following what you see, not allowing what you know to lead the way. You see things that make you angry, so you push and dig a deeper hole for yourself. All the while you love your daughter, but you don't trust it because you don't see love beating the shit out of nails or kicking doors in. You don't see the person on the other side of the world who woke up feeling so much better because someone lifted them in their mind. It's real, it's just too vast to shrink all of its effects on the physical world, into something insecure humans can measure and prove, just to make themselves feel better. It really does take faith."
He didn't want to argue with her. He was losing time. "You're loving. Do it for me. Tell me the answer." He hit the table with his finger. "Get me into this picture."
She thought about it. "I made the necklace so that you would have an easy tool to turn to. But you didn't even believe in it. It's true that the talisman isn't the real power. You are. But if you don't reach for it when you need it, you're using a mixture of unreliable things, and not the pureness that can make the powerful difference you want. It was basically a cheat sheet. When you reach for it, if you're thinking only of the love you have for your daughter, or anyone else, then that means you've escaped the rage frequency and if there are any monsters or curses, or dangers around you, they're not going to be able to find you because you're no longer on their level. This happens all the time, in the blink of an eye. You can't go into that witch's world, or into any painting, not safely, until you know how to raise your frequency to love. That's the only thing that's going to keep you safe."
She struggled with finding the easiest words. He saw tendons strain in her neck and hoped she wasn't losing patience with him.
"In it's simplest terms, you haven't learned to focus on what you want. You're distracted by the things that you don't want, and as long as you are, you're pulling those things into your experience. It's so basic, people miss it entirely, that's why I've stopped trying to explain it."
He drew his hand down his face, starting to feel a little weary. "I admit, you're confusing the hell out of me. Just pretend I'm a child, I don't get all this frequency stuff."
"Forget the science, the rate of vibration. Frequency is just a station that we tune into. A rate of activity that holds our address so that others know who we are and can tune into us and share our experiences. Like an internet address. If I don't have yours, I can't find you in all of infinity."
His stare was blank.
She sighed. "A child. Right. Let go of everything you've been taught about reality. You and the woman in this picture, your worlds are real to each of you, but her space isn't real to you because her plane of existence is made out of her awareness and yours is made out of everything that you believe in and everything that you've been through, including where life and death ends and begins for another person."
"Is this the child-friendly version?"
"I'm trying, I swear I am. Listen, everyone on the planet is like this, not just people in pictures. You want inside this picture, I'm explaining what separates dimensions. Everything that you could possibly want, represents a dimension that is waiting for you. If someone dies in your reality, only your belief bars you from interacting with them. They're fine in their own awareness. Now, you want something. It's out there in front of you, maybe only in your imagination. A desire. The very fact that it's something you want and don't have, puts it in a very specific dimension in relation to yours. Your feelings control that. Before I could talk to the deceased, I had to believe in my ability."
She stalled at the confused look on his face. "Think of the way that a baby learns to walk. You know those walkers, that support them while they learn to take steps?"
"Yeah…"
"I my doubt and early training, I was like that. Every one is, when they want something and don't know how to get it. From piano practice to baseball. Practice is just action that develops our beliefs in our abilities. We already exist simultaneously with expertise in any area that we can imagine it, but we use practice to move us through dimensions because we're incapable of believing ourselves instantly capable. The least little doubt keeps dimensions apart. And belief brings them together. You can't take human feelings out of the science, no matter how hard science tries to. Every novice is just someone in an undeveloped dimension, until they learn their way out of it. From walking to wealth.
"If you've ever see a baby use one of those walkers, you'll know how they get excited when something is placed in front of them and they try to move towards it. They know they want it, they just have to learn to coordinate their foot movement. And often, the easiest steps they can make, are the ones that take them backwards, away from what they want. This practice is really an exercise in dimensions and desire. We can only see and measure the baby's progress, but we can't see or measure how its emotional field is dictating how well it leaps from a forward reality and a backwards one.
"That's what you're doing. That's what everyone who believes in struggle and hardship is doing. They're misunderstanding the mechanics of their minds and using physical effort to compensate. That's fine for a baby learning to take steps, but when people spend all their energy fighting battles, they wear out their bodies, and they don't know what else to do. Like that baby, you have no idea that if you would just always put your right foot in a certain position, followed by your left, you will go towards the object of your desire every single time, with minimal effort and the most fun. Are you still with me?"
"Go on."
"How you get from one dimension to another, from one stage of life to another, from one desire to another, is done with the mechanics of your mind, not your feet, which represent physical effort and endless work. When your mind is clear and decided, it tunes what you want into your experience so that your feet follow effortlessly. The body always follows the mind. It's not done by forcing the feet. You're the baby. You want health and safety for your child. So stop looking at how sick she is, how upset you are, how out of your reach this Snape person seems to be, and the great quest you have to go on to find him. Attention is energy and you're squandering yours and getting more and more frustrated. You're sending energy out to all those avenues, all those dimensions, splitting yourself. Just see your daughter happy and well, since that's the only thing you want from this, and that is where your mind and energy will go. That's where your magic will go. That's what takes that baby from a dimension where it hasn't learned to walk, to one where it has. That's what will take you from this dimension where you're unhappy, to one where you are. Before I can help you, I'm just trying to get you to believe in your real power."
He put his head in his hands and raked his hands through his hair. They were both growing tired of the, you-can't-get-inside-the-photo-till-you-learn-love, but-you-can't-learn-love-until-you-let-go-of-your-anger loop. But he couldn't make himself leave, not when he was so close to someone who did understand the level of love that she was talking about.
They sat there in silence until he could practically see her brainstorming a way around his handicap.
She said, "I'm losing perspective. Let's not forget, you are perfectly capable of pure love for Iece. The problem is, you forget when you're angry. We're all tossed by the storms of our emotions, and we have to clean up the mess later. How can we help you catch the precise moment when you need to switch from rage mode into love mode? If we can put something in place, it'll be a functioning technology. Not perfected, but working, which is a helluva lot better than leaving you at risk."
He waited, leaving the thinking up to her. He was out of ideas. He wanted to get to Eileen as fast as possible, and felt drained by the tug-of-war Thella's reasoning presented.
"Okay." Her eyes closed briefly, and she looked like she was praying before opening them. "I'm going to make another talisman, you really need your own. We're gonna make it the same way. Only I'm going to make myself one, which has the specific purpose to train you to use love before you act on any decision."
He nodded, not sure he understood. But she continued, "There will be a relay between us. With your permission, I'll know when you're feeling dangerous emotions that put you at a disadvantage. I'll then send you a signal through your talisman. It'll make a noise that only you can hear. It's to alert you to do something very specific, to cause a feeling. The sound might even become deafening, depends on what it takes to get through to you. If you don't respond with the right action, I'll… do my best to get you out of whatever trouble you're in. But I'm no bodyguard and I can't guarantee that things will go well. But I can keep an eye on you."
"Fine by me. If you can do that, I'm all for it."
"What I'm going to teach you to do, when you feel anger, or are about to rush into something, may seem really stupid and inappropriate, but I'm doing it to change your state of mind. Remember, your state of mind is your true intention."
He recalled her repeating this phrase, but wasn't sure he understood it. She'd said it like it was the key to everything, but he couldn't grasp it.
"It's true. It's that frequency I was talking about, that keeps you out of danger. I can say I love you till I'm blue in the face and it won't mean shit, unless I generate the feeling. That is, if I needed the power to heal you or anyone, it's got to be in the moment. I can't be mad at you for something in the past, or distracted. It's all immediate and valid, or not at all. Love as a fact, has no power. It's just a word. Love as a feeling, has all the power. If I can trick your mind into mimicking exactly what it does when you feel love, then it can't tell the difference from the real thing. There is no difference. You'll be in the right state of mind to have everything work out for you, no matter what action you take. Does that make sense to you?"
If he strained, tilted his head and blinked through the haziness of her logic, it made a little sense.
She tried again. "Your state of mind is your true intent. No matter how well-meaning you are, you're going to effect the outcome of things with your true feelings. This photo is a memory. It's made of mind, perception, and magic. Consciousness. Since you won't be in our physical world, but in a two dimensional one, reality will use your mind and hers to fill in the gaps. This means that that reality will be feeding off of your emotions even more than this one, with no physical limitations to restrain it. If you let anything other than love drive your actions, you're going to be in trouble."
"So you'll give me a trick that keeps that from happening."
"It's going to sound too simple, and you've already done it before, but it's really the strongest, most effective way of changing your state of mind when you receive the signal from me that you should do so."
"Fine. Just teach me."
She looked like she was afraid he was going to laugh her idea out of the room. "It goes back to your daughter and the visions that you used to create the talisman. I'm going to need you to clear your head and focus exclusively on her for twenty seconds. All that you enjoy and adore about her. That alters your state of mind. That's enough time to activate dopamine and alter the chemistry of your body. It takes and estimated 2,600,000 firing neurons just for a person to see the color red. If you're seeing her for twenty seconds, you've hijacked your brain's wiring to produce corresponding neurotransmitters that pump serotonin into your bloodstream. You've got your finger on the button that causes movement from one dimension to another. Anger brings the potential for violence and chaos to you, you know that. Love brings better options. Your changed chemistry circulates through your system and drenches every cell and organ in your body in exactly those thought-to-body enhancements that cause you to switch dimensions without realizing it.
He struggled to hang on, gripping the core of her logic like it was life support.
"This is how we make ourselves sick with worry, and this is also how we cure ourselves, and this is how we find success or failure, depending on which way we let our unchecked feelings flow. This is you adjusting your state of mind to a more loving frequency, which affects every result that you get. Always remember, your state of mind is your real intent. No matter how well meaning you wish to be, the real results come from refocusing your honest state of mind. I swear, this is how I run my business. It works, but you gotta make it a part of your life, you can't just do it once and not really believe in it. You already love her in a chaotic, sporadic way, now try organizing it into a deliberate intention and watch what it can do. If you don't, and you step into a world that has different physical laws, you can make pure hell for yourself because you don't yet have a grasp on how powerful your mind is. Hence, Earth."
He held his breath rather than argue against her. He wanted to learn, he really did, but he just wasn't sure he knew what the hell she was talking about. She read his helpless expression.
"Okay, I guess I'm using too many words." She got up, padded out of the room in her socks and came back a minute later with her cell phone. She put it on the stop-watch setting.
"I'm going to take you through some drills. I'll make it as simple as possible, you don't need the philosophy, you just need the fundamentals."
He kept silent, hoping to follow her instructions without frustrating her more. As it turns out, what she was saying, really was more simple than having it explained to him. For twenty seconds, he'd feel feel feel as much as he could of his affection for Iece. It wasn't a matter of feeling something he wasn't in the mood for, it was a matter of inserting what he enjoyed over what he didn't. He enjoyed holding his daughter, he didn't enjoy thoughts of her hospitalization. When he learned to deliberately choose ideas that felt good, instead of facing facts that felt bad, he understood the hang of inserting his preferences like slides in front of his brain, which generated corresponding reactions. When he could do it consistently for twenty seconds, he actually saw how his body was tricked into thinking he had Iece in his arms.
His imagination took off without him, adding things to the picture he hadn't planned on. It added Draco. It added a fictitious new home and a new start. It added another child that he didn't even know he wanted, till he was holding him, and it all fit so perfectly into his and Draco's future. After a number of drills, he felt offset by those mental experiences, caught between knowing it was just his imagination and coasting on an expectation that they generated inside of him. It left him eager to get on with his life, wondering if any of that stuff was possible. With his focus pushed to exercise to its limit in such an unusual way, in an unrelenting marathon of exclusive imagination, he felt a little dizzy when she let him drop it. She'd gotten him down to seventeen seconds instead of twenty, and told him that he now knew how to consciously and deliberately alter his state of mind and body chemistry in seventeen seconds and that, with practice, he'd be able to confuse any medical instruments sensitive to the changes. "You could pass a lie detector test or potion. But you have to get used to using your mind this way."
He had to stand up and stretch his legs. He had to wake up from feeling between worlds. While she mixed the ingredients for another talisman, he stood on her porch and let the rain pelt him again. He felt different. Dramatic storm clouds shifted as he gazed out onto them, and imagined them absorbing his disorientation. The storm had died down and he wondered if it had anything to do with him to begin with. If he suddenly stepped into a world that wasn't native to him, would there be atmospheric distortion? Would it simply look like weather, to everyone, and not the constant give and take of psychic and magical interference that people bring with them? He satisfied himself that no one could answer these questions and went back inside to complete his lessons with Thella.
When she was done, he had another Cherio around his neck. She made one for herself. "What I bring to our friendship, will also attempt to look out for you. My people will do what they can, but they can't get too involved in your plight." She'd added purple food coloring to hers and green to his, to playfully distinguish them from one another.
"Don't give this one away. Remember, it's a bypass to your family, living and dead. It represents pure love. You always have it, but it's mixed up with confusion when you're not thinking about it. This way, it's right at your fingertips. Like before. When you're having reckless emotion, I'll be alerted. Then I'll send you the signal to trigger your seventeen-second focus on love. You'll get so good, you'll only need ten, then a few, till you can take off those training wheels one day. You'll do this before you take any serious action and you'll get the best results. And, you'll stay clear of trouble. With this precaution in place, your magic will let you inside that witch's picture."
When it was done, there was only one way to test it. He picked up Eileen's photo.
"If I can get in and out safely, I can get into Snape's painting?"
She nodded. "Think of the result that you want. Then use your love like a bridge. Cross it. Don't try to control anything, it has it's own order."
He grasped his talisman. He wanted useful information. How to get into Eileen's photo? How was he and Snape related? How could he find the real Snape? He knew immediately that he was asking too many questions at once. His desire was stronger than his pacing.
Thella leaned forward. "Stop. You went immediately to the 'how' and forgot all about the result. The solution. Forget the struggle and go straight to the solution. See it the way you want it to be. That's how you dial up the dimension."
He stopped. She was right. He forgot that quickly because he spent every second of his life on what the world considered to be valid problem-solving.
"State what you want clearly, and see it. Feel it."
He saw himself standing across from Eileen, talking to her, understanding her. Then he did the same with Snape.
Thella guided him. "Good, now you've got it. Tell yourself that this is what you want. You have so much going through your mind right now, that little camera in your head needs to know which details you really prefer. Be clear. Only give it what you want to have happen. No bitching allowed or that's what you'll get. The more practice, the better your results."
She let him hold his intention for several seconds. "Now, you're going to fuel it by feeling your joy for your daughter. Your love. Back to the seventeen seconds. I'll count silently."
Once he imagined the solution and it was clear in his mind, he dropped it. He replaced it immediately with seeing Iece as she floated above his and Draco's wands, as she had earlier. They let her dance with Elsa. He held how that memory made him feel, until he could hear her giddy laughter and he began to smile involuntarily. Brain. Hijacked. He allowed that joy to turn into a light, already filled with magic, and drew it out, extending it from his heart into Eileen's frame of reference.
Her photo-chemical face lost its two-dimensional flatness and fleshed out in depth. Her skin color warmed to living hues. And he saw that her dress's muted gray tones, were actually a very soft and silky blue. Enlivened, she smiled at his success. On her lap, her plump baby wore an ivory gown and chewed on his grasping hands.
Her young girl's voice held a deeper tone than most as she said, "Welcome, Harry. I knew you could do it."
Credit:
"Your state of mind is your intent." - Seth/Jane Roberts, The Nature of Personal Reality
17 second focus – Abraham Hicks, Law of Attraction Workshop