Chapter 14:
~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+
"Five miles meandering with mazy motion,
Through dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank the tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!"
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Kubla Kahn
~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+
*Sorry it's been so much longer between updates than normal... I just haven't had a spare moment to write!! And finally today
when I did, I didn't feel very motivated, so it's taken me a while to get it all down. Thanks to the dedicated readers who are
still sticking by my story!!*
Harry stumbled down the dark corridor over a few slick stones on the ground. The secret passageway from his bedroom was absolutely
thrilling. How the heck did Dobby know this was here? he wondered, grinning. This is great. I can leave whenever
I want... He reached a wall and stopped.
"Now what?" he whispered, running his hands along the smooth surface in front of him. He felt several deep pockets, almost
like... steps? He looked upwards and groaned. The passageway continued straight up for about ten feet before leveling off
again. Pulling himself up by the handholds in the wall, he managed to scramble up onto the upper platform. There was a
small wooden door in front of him, and he pushed it open. His eyes squinted in the sudden burst of sunlight. He was, as Dobby
had said, just outside of the library; the door he had pushed open made the statue in front of it move away. Hurriedly, he
shut the door and scurried down the hall towards the library, still wearing his invisibility cloak. Please be unlocked,
he thought silently, reaching towards the handle. It was. He entered, closing the door quietly behind him, and ran over to
the restricted section, ducking under the rope. He grinned up at the books above him.
"Where should I start?" he mused, selecting a book about Spanish history. With a contented sigh, he sat on the ground in front
of the shelf and began to read.
*******************
Rachel lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She hadn't felt like getting up for days now, but today was the first day
she actually hadn't. From the shadows and light filtering in through the windows past her closed bedcurtains, she figured
it was afternoon, probably 1 or 2:00. I should eat something, she though, wiping away a tear from her eye. But I'm
not hungry. She rolled onto her stomach and reread the letter she had received from her uncle. She could still hardly
believe that she would never see Aunt Isabel or Adriana again. She felt as though she needed someone to talk to, but at the
same time, she wanted to be left alone. I haven't heard from Harry in days, she thought, running her hand through her
tangled blonde hair. A feeling of anger bubbled up inside of her.
"He could have at least owled me," she muttered, flipping her pillow over angrily. Wasn't he supposed to be there for her?
Helping her in times of need? Sure, they couldn't leave their dormitories, but he could have at least sent a note. "When
was the last time he followed the rules anyway?" she mumbled. He was changing; she was sure of it. The Harry SHE had known
would have escaped from his dorm days ago to come visit her. Her eyes widened; maybe there was another girl!
"Ginny," she muttered angrily. "Or maybe Parvati? Or Lavendar?" Her thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on the window.
Rachel's heart lifted - Harry hadn't forgotten about her! It must be Hedwig, she thought happily, pulling back the
bedcurtains and rushing to the window. But the snowy owl was nowhere to be seen; in its place was a raven owl, its black
beady eyes staring up at her. Slowly, she lifted the window latch. "My father," she whispered, staring at the owl as if in
a trance. She untied the letter and the dark owl flew off suddenly. Her eyes still focused on the letter, Rachel returned to
her bed and closed the curtains again. Should I read this one? she wondered. What the hell.. Why not? She hurriedly
tore open the envelope and read the spidery handwriting inside.
My dearest daughter,
I have heard about your loss and am deeply saddened. Although I know
that some of your mother's family members remain, I would like you
to know that you are always welcome at my home. It would be wonderful
if all of my children could be here together. Rachel, don't you miss
having a family? Don't you want to play and laugh together with your
brothers? We miss you, Rachel, and you miss us. You are my one and
only beautiful little girl, and I wish that you could be here with me.
You belong with us, not in Spain. Please consider my offer.
Sincerely,
Your loving father and brothers
Rachel covered her mouth as her shoulders shook silently, tears pouring down her face. He was right. She did want a family.
She didn't belong in Spain. Her eyes drifted over to the framed picture on the headboard of her bed; there was the group of
people she had considered her "family" for so many years, all of them with their dark hair and dark eyes, and her standing
in the middle, her blonde hair and pale green eyes standing out so obviously. Not fitting in, as she had always felt. The
outsider. That wasn't her language, that wasn't her culture, those weren't her parents... She swallowed painfully and reached
for a spare piece of parchment and a quill.
Father, she wrote. She frowned, staring at the word before crumpling the parchment and getting a new sheet.
Dad, she began, smiling.
I would love to talk to you sometime. Maybe I could come for
dinner next weekend? Right now I can't leave or anything because
of the attacks, they're making us stay in our rooms. I have thought
about living with you and think it might be a good idea. I never
really belonged in Spain. So what about dinner? Please send an
answer by return owl.
Your daughter,
Rachel
Feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her chest, Rachel coaxed her tiny brown owl out of his cage and gave him
the letter. Smiling to herself, she picked up a clean set of robes and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
*********************
An hour later, Harry wasn't quite as happy as he had been when he entered the library. I can't find anything about this
Garcia lady, he thought angrily, slamming another book shut. This had been sort of a dumb idea in the first place, he
thought. Who breaks school rules to visit the library? he wondered sarcastically. He heard the door creak and froze
immediately. The uneven footsteps were coming from the front entrance of the library; hurriedly, Harry slipped the
invisibility cloak back on and moved stealthily down the aisle towards the door. Madame Pince appeared directly in front of
him, her eyes narrowed behind her thick glasses. Harry flung himself against the rows of books, holding his breath and hoping
she wouldn't run into him. Madame Pince prowled the aisle, her eyes searching the area where Harry had been only moments before.
He had noticed, a few minutes too late, that he had left one of the books on the floor. The strict librarian picked it up,
touching its cover lovingly and casting an angry glance around her, as if looking for the student who had left one of her
precious books on the ground. She placed it back on the shelf and continued walking. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and
slipped out the door of the library. He reached the statue where the passageway ended and began to panic. He didn't know
how to open it again.
"Damn it," he muttered, running his hand along one side. He felt a button and pushed it, and the door swung open. Looking around
to make sure that no one was watching, Harry pulled himself inside and ran back upstairs to his bedroom. He opened the trapdoor
cautiously, afraid that perhaps Ron would be in the room, but he wasn't. Harry threw his invisibility cloak back inside his
trunk only moments before the door opened. He spun around to see Ginny.
"Oh... hey," he said, trying to breathe normally and act as though nothing had happened.
"I was just wondering where you were," Ginny said simply. "No one had seen you for a while." Harry noticed the bedcurtains
surrounding his bed were still closed.
"I was, er, taking a nap," he said, shrugging. Ginny giggled.
"You sure slept a lot today," she told him.
"I was tired," Harry said in an off-hand manner. "Anyways, what's everyone else doing?" Ginny rolled her eyes.
"I went down to the regular common room for a while. Ron and Hermione are in the Head Girl's room, I don't even want to know
what they're doing," she said conversationally, plopping down on Ron's bed. Harry chuckled. "So, how are you and Rachel?"
Ginny asked.
"Er..." Harry didn't really have an answer. I haven't talked to her in days, he thought guiltily. I probably should.
"I'll take that as a not very good then?" Ginny commented, smirking.
"Well, she had some family members die in the attack... I don't really know how she's been holding up..." Ginny's eyes widened.
"HARRY! Her family died and you haven't talked to her?" she asked incredulously. Guilt was seeping through every portion
of his body.
"Well, er... yeah," he confessed. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Boys," she muttered. "Well, you'd better owl her soon, or she'll be furious." With that, she left the room. Harry glanced
at Hedwig's cage; she was off hunting right now.
"I'll write her a letter later," he mumbled, pulling out the few notes he had managed to take from the Spanish history books.
After ten minutes he sighed in frustration. Nothing he had found had anything to do with Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia. Maybe
I'll ask Hermione if she's ever heard of her, once she's done snogging Ron, he thought sarcastically, laying back on his
bed. A real nap isn't such a bad idea...
*************************
Next Chapter