A/N: I am well aware of the fact that this is very slowly moving along.
Two reasons, and the first one being that I don't won't to, in any way
"butcher" was J.K. Rowling has written. And moving a story along too fast
doesn't do anyone any favors in the long run. Secondly, I still have yet
to figure out where this is going, I know what Michelle's basic role will
be, but I need to find a good plot line to really develop in the early
chapters.
After faking her suicide following her brother's death, Michelle took her stallion to a different continent. There, the young Miss Potter learnt to suppress the pains that her Hogwarts years caused. But then she's forced back into the world of Magic, when she has been trying to live among muggles for the past twelve years, Michelle Potter returns to England to face her past, and confess to the friends who once mourned her death, the lie that she kept from them all.
Between The Heavens, a Trial of Faith: Chapter 3, A Dagger's Stab, The Ring's Defeat
********************
The scars along Michelle's left forearm and wrist had all but disappeared. The wounds had only healed skin deep, for it still pained her to see the unholy reminder of her fifth year at Hogwarts.
"Unconscious," a fifteen year young Michelle could hear her Transfiguration teacher saying lowly to the Headmaster. "They found her lying on the floor in the common room, blood all around her."
"Curious," Professor Dumbledore said in a low voice, "had this been a Muggle institution, she would have been beyond help."
"That is true for many of the accidents in this school, though, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall said slowly, letting the words bleed slightly.
"You make the mistake of thinking this as an accident, Minerva, Miss Potter inflicted these knife wounds on herself, and that is what threatens the situation at hand."
"Indeed, it will prove a challenge to protect someone from them selves; wouldn't it?" Minerva asked steadily, her watchful eye not faltering.
"One can only try," Dumbledore sighed, and left the hospital wing.
Michelle lay in the hospital bed overnight, staring up at the ceiling. Her cheeks were smothered in dry tears, and her arm hurt more than ever. It stung, it seemed, more predominantly at night, when all her other senses were trying to rest. She had not understood what had happened only twenty- four hours ago. The knife she had used was a dagger purchased the previous summer from a Muggle shop just north of London. All year, she had saved up her money, and in Diagon Alley, whilst buying her school supplies; she exchanged all her money saved thus far for Muggle currency. One hundred and seventy pounds worth of wizard gold, now British currency had found itself in Michelle's pocket. Later that night, closer to three in the morning, to be exact, Michelle climbed out of her window, and rode Shadow through the forest.
She'd found the shop selling daggers, imitating old pirate weapons, shelling over only fifty pounds the man clad in black; she thanked him, and was on her way. She suspected that this was not a legal transaction that she had made, and was prepared to cross paths with Muggle law enforcers. If they chased her, she would run, and her habit of running was not a habit that Michelle would shake with the years to come.
The overall length of the dagger was thirty-six centimeters, while the length of the actual blade was twenty-three. Michelle found herself musing with the idea that it looked like a rather wide, flat cat's claw on the ride home. The next day, Michelle found herself riding towards a small market in the center of London, where she convinced a young man to carve "claw" in the nightmarish black handle. He took the money eagerly, and asked no questions about the blade, or it's whereabouts, giving Michelle the overall impression that it was a typical event in London, England.
She had uneasy dreams that night of what her parents would react to the news, that had almost certainly reached them by now. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly at the thought of how James might react; perhaps she could throw him into a state of denial, and convince him that it actually had been an accident.
But James was no idiot, he would believe the story that her left wrist told, and it was written plainly for everybody to see: "ATTEMPTED SUICIDE".
Back in her study, twenty some years later, Michelle clenched her armed harshly, it still stung sometimes in the nighttime. It was sensitive, after all. It was well past midnight, and the shooting pains up her left arm had all but ceased. Perhaps it was the news of Sirius's death that had set it off, perhaps it was sensitive to her emotional angst, it would make sense.
Convinced that she would get no sleep that night, Michelle slipped out of bed and reread the letter that she had drafted earlier that day.
Professor Dumbledore,
Should you remember me; then I perhaps have some news of interest for yourself, and the rest of the Order. Voldemorte has resurrected, it was only a matter of time, and you've known this day would come since he was destroyed by a child fifteen-years ago. Now that the British Ministry has accepted this fact, it will surely make life easier for the order, and I must say that news of Mr. Black's death pained me more than any death has ever done. (Indeed, including the one of my brother's.) I am Michelle Danielle Potter, if you remember my attempted suicide in year five at Hogwarts, and then my suicide when I was nineteen, right after James died. I suppose that I am to offer proof of my identity to you, I would expect that Harry's safety is the primary concern of yours momentarily, and introducing someone who was supposed to be dead for a decade and a half back into the world has a certain risk factor to it. Therefore, I am enclosing my most prized possession in this letter, and once you know that I tell the truth, I ask that it be returned to me, for it is a friendly reminder of brighter days.
Sincerely yours, Michelle Potter
After reading and rereading the letter over four or five times, Michelle whistled lightly, and a white and black Burrowing Owl swooped into her room, by her side. She ruffled his feathers, and kissed him gently on the beak.
"I have a delivery for you, Tawny, if you choose to accept it," Michelle said smiling. Her small collection of animals made her happy, it reminded her of her Hogwarts years.
Tawny cooed affectionately, rubbing her side against Michelle index finger and thumb, purring like a calico kitten.
"It's a long one, mind," Michelle continued, scratching Tawny's side, "think you can get this to Professor Dumbledore?"
Tawny looked at her, she did not quite understand the request. Never had she been sent on a messaging journey across seas, and even when she did deliver letters, it was so rare that she could only remember one time actually sending a letter.
Slowly Michelle pulled off a sixteen-year-old diamond engagement ring. A beautiful cut diamond with a pair of cut sapphires accenting it. It had been beautiful in its prime, but now it's worth was dropping significantly, but the sentimental value continued to rise.
"Be careful with this," Michelle whispered, dropping the ring into an envelope with the letter wrapped around it.
Tawny cooed again, this time out of respect for her owner. She knew where to go. It would be a journey of several weeks, and her master knew it, Tawny could feel Michelle's anxiety building up as she prepped herself to send her on her way. It would be dangerous, and if the letter was to be intercepted, unlikely, but not unthinkable, then the Order would be put at a direct disadvantage, and Michelle's last legacy of Sirius would be lost for an eternity. Tawny could feel Michelle wondering whether she should saddle up Shadow and take the letter herself, but Michelle feared something that Tawny did not understand, she feared that her presence could upset someone, though Tawny did not recognize whom.
No, Michelle thought sharply, no, I mustn't go myself, Tawny has yet to prove herself unreliable, and it's not as though they are expecting me to send Dumbledore a letter. If they were anticipating such an action, things would be different, but I am dead to their world, and they have long since forgotten about me.
Who "they" were, Tawny was unsure, but she suspected that "they" were bad people, who had caused her master pain and frustration, perhaps "they" had caused the death of "him", another individual who Tawny could feel when Michelle thought of, but did not know who he was.
After faking her suicide following her brother's death, Michelle took her stallion to a different continent. There, the young Miss Potter learnt to suppress the pains that her Hogwarts years caused. But then she's forced back into the world of Magic, when she has been trying to live among muggles for the past twelve years, Michelle Potter returns to England to face her past, and confess to the friends who once mourned her death, the lie that she kept from them all.
Between The Heavens, a Trial of Faith: Chapter 3, A Dagger's Stab, The Ring's Defeat
********************
The scars along Michelle's left forearm and wrist had all but disappeared. The wounds had only healed skin deep, for it still pained her to see the unholy reminder of her fifth year at Hogwarts.
"Unconscious," a fifteen year young Michelle could hear her Transfiguration teacher saying lowly to the Headmaster. "They found her lying on the floor in the common room, blood all around her."
"Curious," Professor Dumbledore said in a low voice, "had this been a Muggle institution, she would have been beyond help."
"That is true for many of the accidents in this school, though, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall said slowly, letting the words bleed slightly.
"You make the mistake of thinking this as an accident, Minerva, Miss Potter inflicted these knife wounds on herself, and that is what threatens the situation at hand."
"Indeed, it will prove a challenge to protect someone from them selves; wouldn't it?" Minerva asked steadily, her watchful eye not faltering.
"One can only try," Dumbledore sighed, and left the hospital wing.
Michelle lay in the hospital bed overnight, staring up at the ceiling. Her cheeks were smothered in dry tears, and her arm hurt more than ever. It stung, it seemed, more predominantly at night, when all her other senses were trying to rest. She had not understood what had happened only twenty- four hours ago. The knife she had used was a dagger purchased the previous summer from a Muggle shop just north of London. All year, she had saved up her money, and in Diagon Alley, whilst buying her school supplies; she exchanged all her money saved thus far for Muggle currency. One hundred and seventy pounds worth of wizard gold, now British currency had found itself in Michelle's pocket. Later that night, closer to three in the morning, to be exact, Michelle climbed out of her window, and rode Shadow through the forest.
She'd found the shop selling daggers, imitating old pirate weapons, shelling over only fifty pounds the man clad in black; she thanked him, and was on her way. She suspected that this was not a legal transaction that she had made, and was prepared to cross paths with Muggle law enforcers. If they chased her, she would run, and her habit of running was not a habit that Michelle would shake with the years to come.
The overall length of the dagger was thirty-six centimeters, while the length of the actual blade was twenty-three. Michelle found herself musing with the idea that it looked like a rather wide, flat cat's claw on the ride home. The next day, Michelle found herself riding towards a small market in the center of London, where she convinced a young man to carve "claw" in the nightmarish black handle. He took the money eagerly, and asked no questions about the blade, or it's whereabouts, giving Michelle the overall impression that it was a typical event in London, England.
She had uneasy dreams that night of what her parents would react to the news, that had almost certainly reached them by now. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly at the thought of how James might react; perhaps she could throw him into a state of denial, and convince him that it actually had been an accident.
But James was no idiot, he would believe the story that her left wrist told, and it was written plainly for everybody to see: "ATTEMPTED SUICIDE".
Back in her study, twenty some years later, Michelle clenched her armed harshly, it still stung sometimes in the nighttime. It was sensitive, after all. It was well past midnight, and the shooting pains up her left arm had all but ceased. Perhaps it was the news of Sirius's death that had set it off, perhaps it was sensitive to her emotional angst, it would make sense.
Convinced that she would get no sleep that night, Michelle slipped out of bed and reread the letter that she had drafted earlier that day.
Professor Dumbledore,
Should you remember me; then I perhaps have some news of interest for yourself, and the rest of the Order. Voldemorte has resurrected, it was only a matter of time, and you've known this day would come since he was destroyed by a child fifteen-years ago. Now that the British Ministry has accepted this fact, it will surely make life easier for the order, and I must say that news of Mr. Black's death pained me more than any death has ever done. (Indeed, including the one of my brother's.) I am Michelle Danielle Potter, if you remember my attempted suicide in year five at Hogwarts, and then my suicide when I was nineteen, right after James died. I suppose that I am to offer proof of my identity to you, I would expect that Harry's safety is the primary concern of yours momentarily, and introducing someone who was supposed to be dead for a decade and a half back into the world has a certain risk factor to it. Therefore, I am enclosing my most prized possession in this letter, and once you know that I tell the truth, I ask that it be returned to me, for it is a friendly reminder of brighter days.
Sincerely yours, Michelle Potter
After reading and rereading the letter over four or five times, Michelle whistled lightly, and a white and black Burrowing Owl swooped into her room, by her side. She ruffled his feathers, and kissed him gently on the beak.
"I have a delivery for you, Tawny, if you choose to accept it," Michelle said smiling. Her small collection of animals made her happy, it reminded her of her Hogwarts years.
Tawny cooed affectionately, rubbing her side against Michelle index finger and thumb, purring like a calico kitten.
"It's a long one, mind," Michelle continued, scratching Tawny's side, "think you can get this to Professor Dumbledore?"
Tawny looked at her, she did not quite understand the request. Never had she been sent on a messaging journey across seas, and even when she did deliver letters, it was so rare that she could only remember one time actually sending a letter.
Slowly Michelle pulled off a sixteen-year-old diamond engagement ring. A beautiful cut diamond with a pair of cut sapphires accenting it. It had been beautiful in its prime, but now it's worth was dropping significantly, but the sentimental value continued to rise.
"Be careful with this," Michelle whispered, dropping the ring into an envelope with the letter wrapped around it.
Tawny cooed again, this time out of respect for her owner. She knew where to go. It would be a journey of several weeks, and her master knew it, Tawny could feel Michelle's anxiety building up as she prepped herself to send her on her way. It would be dangerous, and if the letter was to be intercepted, unlikely, but not unthinkable, then the Order would be put at a direct disadvantage, and Michelle's last legacy of Sirius would be lost for an eternity. Tawny could feel Michelle wondering whether she should saddle up Shadow and take the letter herself, but Michelle feared something that Tawny did not understand, she feared that her presence could upset someone, though Tawny did not recognize whom.
No, Michelle thought sharply, no, I mustn't go myself, Tawny has yet to prove herself unreliable, and it's not as though they are expecting me to send Dumbledore a letter. If they were anticipating such an action, things would be different, but I am dead to their world, and they have long since forgotten about me.
Who "they" were, Tawny was unsure, but she suspected that "they" were bad people, who had caused her master pain and frustration, perhaps "they" had caused the death of "him", another individual who Tawny could feel when Michelle thought of, but did not know who he was.