The Wild Children
By Kateen They don't think I'm awake, and so they talk freely in front of me. I frighten them; it took five of them to beat me and they don't understand. How can they not understand, it is simple - I am just more powerful. But that's not what they are talking about. Instead, they want to know who I am and why I'm a wild Child. What if I don't know myself? What then? Do they just invent someone for me to be. I sigh and shift slightly, I am in the white room and they are in the seats around me - my five jailors. There is the wise-man white hair, and the dog man, and the werewolf who captured me. But beside them are two other people - the feline and the raven. "You can open your eyes now, child," said the man with the white hair, "I know you are awake." I fix my eyes on him in a deadly glare, "want go Samud," I said succinctly, knowing I sounded like a fool but not having the words, or the know how, to say it properly. "Samud- Albus, what's he talking about?" This from the feline. They whispered for a few minutes and then the werewolf spoke up, "Samud is the beast name for the Dark Forest," he whispered, "the child speaks the languages of the forest, not English." "Do you speak it?" the raven man asked nastily. Werewolf shook his head, "No, being there once a month doesn't mean you learn much - werewolves aren't trusted much among beasts either, Severus." "But I thought, because you were coming back less injured that you had-" the raven man trailed off. "No," the werewolf shook his head, "I was healed by the wild children - like this child." I sat up carefully and watched them, but finally I pointed to the wise-man white hair, "white hair," I said slowly, "where big man, like eight leg?" There was a momentary silence and then the man flicked a stick and a picture of the big man appeared, I nodded, "where he?" I asked, "nice man. Bring gift for eight leg. Eight leg not kill no name." "He saved your life?" the wise-man asked interestedly. I nodded, "many time, think eight leg kill, big man save." "Remus, can you please send an owl to Azkaban - we need our Gamekeeper back. Child," the wise man looked at me, "I am Albus Dumbledore, do you have a name?" With a sad sigh I shook my head, "not human name. Forest name; Telmah." Everyone looked to the werewolf for an explanation, but he looked somewhat lost, "it is not a word I am familiar with," he said slowly, "but it implies savior, or protected one - the one who is darkness and light would be a somewhat close translation," I nod slowly, "is yes." "How old are you?" the wise-man asked. "Old?" I was confused, why did it matter - the ways of the beasts were simple, age was irrelevant. All that mattered was how well you could fight, "Many moons," I said finally, "many, many moons." They looked at each other and then wise-man said finally, "Child, we would like to know who you really are. Can I cast a spell on you to find out who you are?" "Spell?" I looked lost, what was a spell? "Use magic," the greasy man supplied, "use powers." "POWERS?!" I blinked and scrambled away as fast as I could, "no! Not hurt!" The Wise-man smiled soothingly and slowly I settled down as he spoke, "no, child, we wouldn't use powers that would hurt you. Instead we will use one that will tell us information." Slowly it began to sink in and I nodded slowly, "not you," I said carefully, "him use power!" I pointed to the greasy-haired man, "him help wise-man help no name!" "Severus!" the wise-man commanded. He raised his wodden stick, "Informaticas!" Slowly, as though an old tree, with hidden roots, being pulled out of the earth, clouds began to form in front of me:
Harold James Evans Potter James Potter (1956-1981), Lily Potter (nee Evans)(1957-1981) 15 years, 11 months, 4 days Alpha Wild Child The Forbidden Forest Hogwarts
I stared at it, somewhat scared that all that talked about me, and I didn't understand it! "What say?" I asked the greasy-haired man, "what say?" "You're name is Harry Potter," he said slowly, "you are almost sixteen years old and you live in the Forbidden Forest and you would be placed in- ALBUS! What does it mean, Hogwarts?" The wise-man - to whom that question was obviously addressed - looked more that slightly surprised, "I'm not one-hundred percent sure, Severus. It's something of a surprise to me. I do believe that it's telling us that Harry, here, would not have fitted into any one house here but would have been placed as a 'Hogwarts Student' rather than a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, for example." "But Albus, surely he cannot be equally endowed with the qualities of the four houses; I mean, most of them are the polar opposites of each other!" this came from the feline who was quite disgruntled. "Child," the wise-man addressed me, "would you like to join us as a student, here? Your parents were both students here many years ago; you could learn to use your powers so that they were very strong." Staring around, my eyes looked first from one to another. The Feline looked almost nervous about the idea of me being in the same school as her, while the Raven was conspicuously non-committal and the werewolf was somewhat pleading. The wise-man however, looked as though he really really wanted me to agree. I shrugged, "learn use powers?" They all nodded slowly and I shrugged again, "yes?" I looked tentatively at them. There were audible sighs of relief from four different directions. I'd obviously made the right choice. I didn't quite understand it then, but apparently it was one of those choices that was to change my life forever. Learning to use my powers was somewhat appealing but, at the same time, quite dangerous. I looked at the werewolf, "eat?" I asked tentatively, "hungry?" They all jumped into action at that point and I was quickly bundled into various different outfits that felt quite scratchy and uncomfortable, but were nice and warm - unlike the werewolf or unicorn skin I usually wore wrapped around and held in place by a piece of hide - and, holding the werewolf's hand, I was hurried down the stairs and back into the big room that I'd taken the werewolf to. It was almost empty this time, but a few children looked at me curiously; I glared half-heartedly back at them, more interested in what was in front of them - food. "Harry," the man said awkwardly, "I wanted to thank you for saving my life and helping me all those times. It must have taken great courage to help a werewolf." I shook my head and told him the truth, "not brave. Moony - good man; friend. Like Padfoot." He blinked, "you remember us?" I looked at him, "why not?" "You were a very little boy." he trailed off, "what about Peter?" "Peter?" I was confused, who was Peter? Was he the rat-like man who always had the key in his hand? "Rat?" He nodded, "yes, the rat." "Wormtail," I nodded, "bad man." The man was, apparently, stunned into silence and stared at me strangely - like I'd done something wrong. I shifted back in my seat and focused on the food in front of me. It was some form of meat, a casserole - I think - and I poked it around with my finger, unsure what to do with it. Finally the man snapped out of his stupor and stopped acting like I'd done something wrong and showed me how to use the four pronged thing he called a fork. Then he explained the knife, and suddenly I understood where it came from - the sharp rock that we wild children used to carve up the meat was the modern version of the knife! I shared that revelation, as best I could, with my new 'friend' who laughed lightly and shook his head, "no, Harry. The sharp rock you use is the predecessor of the knife. Do you understand?" Slowly I shook my head, "predeseccor?" I queried. "The thing that came before." he explained. I nodded, "Understand." "You knew Wormtail was a bad man?" he asked as I ate. I was making hard work out of it - but using a knife and fork was new to me and I wanted to do it right. I slowly, and carefully, carved up small pieces of the meat and vegetables and popped them into my mouth. Never being one to complain about food of any sort - having lived with a considerable shortage for a considerable amount of time - I had no complaints other than that it was perhaps too flavoured. My mouth full, I nodded, "very bad man - got Padfoot in trouble. Kill Lily and Prongs." A clear, water-like substance appeared in the corner of the man's eyes and I was surprised. I'd seen it in some of the other children's eyes when they first joined us, but only ever once and then it was forgotten. Usually one of the girl-children would take them and look after them until it went away. I looked at it curiously, "what is?" I asked, finally, pointing to it. I sensed, somehow, that the man was ashamed of it, but I was interested and wasn't going to fight him for it. "It's tears, Harry, we get tears in our eyes when we are very sad about something." Suddenly I understood, "you know Lily? Prongs? Or Padfoot?" "All of them. I was good friends of your parents and Padfoot is my best friend. We're still trying to find Wormtail." "Padfoot no more trouble?" I asked, confused. I had been kept abreast of information by the spiders - who got the news from the big, scary man - when they weren't trying to eat me, and they had said nothing about Padfoot being safe again, "why not come for son?" "Son?" the man queried. "Prongs' child," I nodded, "see dreams. Son, in big mess - big man see, take to family. Child not happy." "Harry," the man said gently, "he couldn't come and get Prong's Son, because we didn't know where he was. You are Prongs' Son. We spent years looking for you, but the one time we did find you; you brought the letter back without leaving so much as a trace - except that you were still alive." I blinked, "true?" I asked the slimy-haired man who had appeared on my other side. He nodded, "Yes," he said shortly and served himself a meal, glancing surreptitiously my way as he ate.x
By Kateen They don't think I'm awake, and so they talk freely in front of me. I frighten them; it took five of them to beat me and they don't understand. How can they not understand, it is simple - I am just more powerful. But that's not what they are talking about. Instead, they want to know who I am and why I'm a wild Child. What if I don't know myself? What then? Do they just invent someone for me to be. I sigh and shift slightly, I am in the white room and they are in the seats around me - my five jailors. There is the wise-man white hair, and the dog man, and the werewolf who captured me. But beside them are two other people - the feline and the raven. "You can open your eyes now, child," said the man with the white hair, "I know you are awake." I fix my eyes on him in a deadly glare, "want go Samud," I said succinctly, knowing I sounded like a fool but not having the words, or the know how, to say it properly. "Samud- Albus, what's he talking about?" This from the feline. They whispered for a few minutes and then the werewolf spoke up, "Samud is the beast name for the Dark Forest," he whispered, "the child speaks the languages of the forest, not English." "Do you speak it?" the raven man asked nastily. Werewolf shook his head, "No, being there once a month doesn't mean you learn much - werewolves aren't trusted much among beasts either, Severus." "But I thought, because you were coming back less injured that you had-" the raven man trailed off. "No," the werewolf shook his head, "I was healed by the wild children - like this child." I sat up carefully and watched them, but finally I pointed to the wise-man white hair, "white hair," I said slowly, "where big man, like eight leg?" There was a momentary silence and then the man flicked a stick and a picture of the big man appeared, I nodded, "where he?" I asked, "nice man. Bring gift for eight leg. Eight leg not kill no name." "He saved your life?" the wise-man asked interestedly. I nodded, "many time, think eight leg kill, big man save." "Remus, can you please send an owl to Azkaban - we need our Gamekeeper back. Child," the wise man looked at me, "I am Albus Dumbledore, do you have a name?" With a sad sigh I shook my head, "not human name. Forest name; Telmah." Everyone looked to the werewolf for an explanation, but he looked somewhat lost, "it is not a word I am familiar with," he said slowly, "but it implies savior, or protected one - the one who is darkness and light would be a somewhat close translation," I nod slowly, "is yes." "How old are you?" the wise-man asked. "Old?" I was confused, why did it matter - the ways of the beasts were simple, age was irrelevant. All that mattered was how well you could fight, "Many moons," I said finally, "many, many moons." They looked at each other and then wise-man said finally, "Child, we would like to know who you really are. Can I cast a spell on you to find out who you are?" "Spell?" I looked lost, what was a spell? "Use magic," the greasy man supplied, "use powers." "POWERS?!" I blinked and scrambled away as fast as I could, "no! Not hurt!" The Wise-man smiled soothingly and slowly I settled down as he spoke, "no, child, we wouldn't use powers that would hurt you. Instead we will use one that will tell us information." Slowly it began to sink in and I nodded slowly, "not you," I said carefully, "him use power!" I pointed to the greasy-haired man, "him help wise-man help no name!" "Severus!" the wise-man commanded. He raised his wodden stick, "Informaticas!" Slowly, as though an old tree, with hidden roots, being pulled out of the earth, clouds began to form in front of me:
Harold James Evans Potter James Potter (1956-1981), Lily Potter (nee Evans)(1957-1981) 15 years, 11 months, 4 days Alpha Wild Child The Forbidden Forest Hogwarts
I stared at it, somewhat scared that all that talked about me, and I didn't understand it! "What say?" I asked the greasy-haired man, "what say?" "You're name is Harry Potter," he said slowly, "you are almost sixteen years old and you live in the Forbidden Forest and you would be placed in- ALBUS! What does it mean, Hogwarts?" The wise-man - to whom that question was obviously addressed - looked more that slightly surprised, "I'm not one-hundred percent sure, Severus. It's something of a surprise to me. I do believe that it's telling us that Harry, here, would not have fitted into any one house here but would have been placed as a 'Hogwarts Student' rather than a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, for example." "But Albus, surely he cannot be equally endowed with the qualities of the four houses; I mean, most of them are the polar opposites of each other!" this came from the feline who was quite disgruntled. "Child," the wise-man addressed me, "would you like to join us as a student, here? Your parents were both students here many years ago; you could learn to use your powers so that they were very strong." Staring around, my eyes looked first from one to another. The Feline looked almost nervous about the idea of me being in the same school as her, while the Raven was conspicuously non-committal and the werewolf was somewhat pleading. The wise-man however, looked as though he really really wanted me to agree. I shrugged, "learn use powers?" They all nodded slowly and I shrugged again, "yes?" I looked tentatively at them. There were audible sighs of relief from four different directions. I'd obviously made the right choice. I didn't quite understand it then, but apparently it was one of those choices that was to change my life forever. Learning to use my powers was somewhat appealing but, at the same time, quite dangerous. I looked at the werewolf, "eat?" I asked tentatively, "hungry?" They all jumped into action at that point and I was quickly bundled into various different outfits that felt quite scratchy and uncomfortable, but were nice and warm - unlike the werewolf or unicorn skin I usually wore wrapped around and held in place by a piece of hide - and, holding the werewolf's hand, I was hurried down the stairs and back into the big room that I'd taken the werewolf to. It was almost empty this time, but a few children looked at me curiously; I glared half-heartedly back at them, more interested in what was in front of them - food. "Harry," the man said awkwardly, "I wanted to thank you for saving my life and helping me all those times. It must have taken great courage to help a werewolf." I shook my head and told him the truth, "not brave. Moony - good man; friend. Like Padfoot." He blinked, "you remember us?" I looked at him, "why not?" "You were a very little boy." he trailed off, "what about Peter?" "Peter?" I was confused, who was Peter? Was he the rat-like man who always had the key in his hand? "Rat?" He nodded, "yes, the rat." "Wormtail," I nodded, "bad man." The man was, apparently, stunned into silence and stared at me strangely - like I'd done something wrong. I shifted back in my seat and focused on the food in front of me. It was some form of meat, a casserole - I think - and I poked it around with my finger, unsure what to do with it. Finally the man snapped out of his stupor and stopped acting like I'd done something wrong and showed me how to use the four pronged thing he called a fork. Then he explained the knife, and suddenly I understood where it came from - the sharp rock that we wild children used to carve up the meat was the modern version of the knife! I shared that revelation, as best I could, with my new 'friend' who laughed lightly and shook his head, "no, Harry. The sharp rock you use is the predecessor of the knife. Do you understand?" Slowly I shook my head, "predeseccor?" I queried. "The thing that came before." he explained. I nodded, "Understand." "You knew Wormtail was a bad man?" he asked as I ate. I was making hard work out of it - but using a knife and fork was new to me and I wanted to do it right. I slowly, and carefully, carved up small pieces of the meat and vegetables and popped them into my mouth. Never being one to complain about food of any sort - having lived with a considerable shortage for a considerable amount of time - I had no complaints other than that it was perhaps too flavoured. My mouth full, I nodded, "very bad man - got Padfoot in trouble. Kill Lily and Prongs." A clear, water-like substance appeared in the corner of the man's eyes and I was surprised. I'd seen it in some of the other children's eyes when they first joined us, but only ever once and then it was forgotten. Usually one of the girl-children would take them and look after them until it went away. I looked at it curiously, "what is?" I asked, finally, pointing to it. I sensed, somehow, that the man was ashamed of it, but I was interested and wasn't going to fight him for it. "It's tears, Harry, we get tears in our eyes when we are very sad about something." Suddenly I understood, "you know Lily? Prongs? Or Padfoot?" "All of them. I was good friends of your parents and Padfoot is my best friend. We're still trying to find Wormtail." "Padfoot no more trouble?" I asked, confused. I had been kept abreast of information by the spiders - who got the news from the big, scary man - when they weren't trying to eat me, and they had said nothing about Padfoot being safe again, "why not come for son?" "Son?" the man queried. "Prongs' child," I nodded, "see dreams. Son, in big mess - big man see, take to family. Child not happy." "Harry," the man said gently, "he couldn't come and get Prong's Son, because we didn't know where he was. You are Prongs' Son. We spent years looking for you, but the one time we did find you; you brought the letter back without leaving so much as a trace - except that you were still alive." I blinked, "true?" I asked the slimy-haired man who had appeared on my other side. He nodded, "Yes," he said shortly and served himself a meal, glancing surreptitiously my way as he ate.x