Designated Harbinger, cont. Disclaimer- in part one. Author: Lia
(Jessica's pov: outside the kitchen)
Straining to hear what was going on, I leaned closer to the doorway. After getting squeaky clean I had sneaked down the stairs 'They're talking about me, right? I should be allowed to hear what's going on," I reasoned. Still not wanting to be caught, I congratulated myself on not being spotted so far.
You know that sixth sense most parents have around their kids? Well in this house its worse. I can barely get away with anything! When I was little constantly did I block out the windows using blankets. Little noises would make me jump. Eddie, a boy down the street, nicknamed me Mouse until I threatened to clobber him. Why was I doing these things? Well, Mom, dear Mom has one warped sense of humor. She told me when I was five and a half that she could turn into any type of bird she wanted. Of course, I foolishly believed her. Why would she lie? I knew my mom was a witch and had seen other incredible feats, so it must have been true. Since she usually knew when I was hiding something, it appeared to be possible. Sometimes mom even knew why and exactly what I had been doing too. I know stupid, but understandable.
Focusing on the sounds coming from the kitchen, I regretted my inability to adjust my senses like Dad could. All I heard was "Jess---go---path--- support---pray." Not much, huh? Shaking my head, I was confused. 'What!? Am I going to some type of park?' Silently I repeated the words through my mind a couple of times. 'Almost sounds like they're sending me to some sort of military school. Yuck! Please not that! Military green is soo NOT my color. With my skin tone, that shade? I'll look like I'm about to puke at any moment!'
I tried to think back, to remember if I've done anything that would get me in this kind of trouble. 'Well-there was that time I poured ketchup into Lindsey's chair at lunch, but that was weeks ago!' My mind flashed back and I had just enough control to keep myself from laughing. Lindsey had shrieked so loudly when she sat down that three kids spilt milk outta their noses. It was great, a two-for-one. 'Okay, maybe it was petty, but Lindsey was being such a snob. I had to retaliate. Still, no reason for military school.'
Cringing slightly I could almost hear my father's voice calling me out for another lesson in morals. 'Oh, wait! That's real!' I stumbled slightly and grimaced. Caught once again by Mr. Radar. I peeked around the bend of the doorway. Dad was smiling at me while mom looked stuck between being amused and angry. I'm hoping for amused.
He was grinning at me now. "Yeah, you. I asked for you to come in, Jess- Monkey," he said calling me by that silly nickname. I personally don't get it. Walking casually into the kichen, I tilted my head to the side slightly and tried to look cute. Yep, that's right. I'm going for amused. "So, time for dinner?," I said distracting mom with a question and yeah she did glance at the clock. "Not quite," she said her eyes glinting with- reluctance? 'Maybe she's trying to avoid me or something. Could the news be that bad?' Usually mom would have more fun catching me at spying. "Peter'll be dropped off a little before five," she added. I nodded. It's just 4:30P.M. so he'd still be at Richie's house playing.
"Ok, soo--- ya wanted to talk?," I asked still trying to get out of being caught as well as easing my natural curiosity. I really should be used to it though. This was the real reason why I was afraid of birds. See, Dad can tell who's in the next room most times and when a person's lying. He'd then tell mom letting her deal with us kids. Guess he had to rat us out, but then felt a little guilty doing so at times. Most of the time we can't get anything past them. It's a cool skill, but annoying. Makes my job of being a kid so much harder than it should be. Really, it does.
Mom looked shocked at my question. I wonder why. 'She must really be dreading this conversation. Who is this person and where is my mother? Looks like she tried to knock herself out.' They're both pretty level headed most of the time despite their strange personalities. Then again, aren't adults supposed to be the thinkers, planners, and stuff? And people wonder why I not rushing to grow up. There's time for that later. Hmm, she still hasn't said anything so I looked to Dad. He nods at me then clears his throat. Mom's head jerks to his direction. Damn glad she's not looking at me like that.
"Yeah, Jess-Monkey. Grab a seat," he motioned to the booth near him. I love our kitchen booth. It's a half circle booth and table. Right now Mom in the chair on the straight side and I slide in the booth seating almost opposite of Dad. 'With the way they're reacting I think they'll let the spying slide this time. It really didn't do me any good anyway. Unless I really am going to a military school.' I gulped nervously and waited.
"Marie, can you bring the letter, please?," Dad asked. Mom seemed glad for an excuse to leave the room. I looked at Mom right before she got up quickly, leaving the room. The chair made a screeching sound as it was pushed back suddenly making me grimace. Looking at Dad, my expression must have been telling for he sighed before saying, "Let's read the letter out loud first, then we'll have our discussion." I know, I'm impatient, but at least I don't seem to be in trouble. If I was they'd probably be yelling already.
Mom swiftly returned to the kitchen holding a piece of paper which she placed firmly in the middle of the table staring at it as if it was a snake ready to strike. 'Man, why would this frighten her? I'm the one this concerns, the one in trouble. Right?' Looking at the letter (more like a package really) I had to agree that it looked odd. Thick and heavy, the envelope was yellowish-PARCHMENT? Only really eccentric people would use paper like that. Surely this can't be military school, so what is it? I reached out and brought it closer. My parents were strangely silent, almost as if they were watching me do something incredible. Okay that wasn't that hard in this house, but they were starting to freak me out.
I looked at the envelope noting the strange texture, the green ink that our address had been written in, and the disturbed---wax seal? Lack of a stamp made it even stranger. The already opened letter was addressed to me:
Miss J. Bradley Room Labeled The Disaster Area 12 County Line Road Gainesville, VA U.S.A.
Glancing at my parents I cautiously opened and read it. They must want to know my reaction to this. So, no explanations for me. I skimmed the writing eyes widening. Then I carefully read it again. In bright emerald green ink it said:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Miss Bradley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
Shocked, I automatically looked at the next sheet of paper. And heck, yeah, it was a list. Raising my head I dazed at my parents, mouth open. They appeared worried, both frowning and waited until it got to be too much for them. Dad waved a hand through my path of vision. Mom began to smirk and said, "Jess, hun. You're starting to drool." Both of their actions snapped me back to reality. "I'm a WITCH!," I shouted. Dad shook his head. Maybe his ears hurt. "Oh-My-God! I'm a Witch!," I said excitedly before suddenly frowning. "But how can I be a Witch? I thought I was a Psychic. Mom?"
"Well, brat-I don't rightly know how, but it appears that you're both a Witch and a Psychic. You remember how I told you that I gave birth to you in England? See, I didn't trust those Muggle's doctors (or familiar with Muggle ways), so you were born there near my family." Mom teared up a bit. I don't understand it but she tends to do that when she talks about that time. If it wasn't for their reassurances, I'd wondered if I was unwanted, an accident. She coughed lightly and continued, "Hogwarts was the school most of the family went to. I had a great time there as a girl. Anyway, I figure- since you were born in England that they must have registered you to attend school there." I nodded; Mom had told me about the magical book that registers each birth of witches and wizards in the country. Each school had one and never revealed the information outside of the senior staff members.
"But why all this production? And I remember you telling me when I was six that I couldn't be a witch because I'm a psychic?" My eyes searched them closely for answers. There must be more to this. Mom sighed and looked towards Dad. He leaned forward folding his hands together looking serious. "Jess, the genetics between different races is a tricky thing. No one quite knows how it works even between themselves. Psychics and Wizards - It's almost unheard of them intermingling, let alone having offspring."
Pausing, Dad took a deep breath. "Frankly, we had no idea what would happen. So, we were judging your abilities by theory. The theory is that with Psychics and Wizards being so opposite of each other from their talents to their origins, that the likelihood of children with any powers was slim to none. It was a joy when we discovered that you showed psychic potential. When we saw signs that Peter also being psychic a couple of months ago, we figured maybe psychic abilities are more dominant. Neither of you show signs that you had any type of magic," he finished looking weary.
Shaking my head to clear out the cobwebs there, I thought back on his words. Ok, genetics, big science, hard to understand. And here I was thinking I'm good at it. I don't understand. "I don't understand. So, what are you saying? Am I not a witch? A weak one? I know I'm psychic and you said I've got strong potential there, but what now? And why are you guys so worried?," questions spilling out of my mouth firing at them like bullets. Mom smiled slightly while Dad chuckled and pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear fondly.
"You're a witch, my girl. If you want to go you can," Mom said. Dad turned somewhat serious, "Don't know how strong you'll be or the effects of a Psychic-Witch are. You'll have to find that out for us. But this is going to be tougher than you think if you decide to go." He looked straight into my eyes, eyes that were so similar to his. "We told you about the prejudice that exists. You'll will have to deal with that constantly without our direct presence. Also, if you decide to go, we will have to figure out what you are going to tell people as well as how to teach you your psychic lessons while there."
I sat thinking. 'So this is what all that fuss is about' Searching the faces of my parents, I saw tons of emotions. I allowed my eyes to become unfocused and searched their auras. They always reveal the truth. Dad was a mix of blues, indigo, amber, some pale and dark green, pink, and apricot. Some were steady, others moving-flashing suddenly. He was mostly normal for him, just being extra supportive and a little worried. Mom was sky and navy blue, amber, apricot, a good bit of viridian, and a bit of rustic red. More worried than Dad, but still supportive. Turning my head downward I looked at my arms. Can't do this to myself very well without a mirror, but I tired anyway. Primrose, royal blue, and a few other colors registered. Well, that was my assessment. I took these pieces of information and considered to possibilities. Now, a decision. Dad looked at me knowingly, nodding as I said, "I'm going to Hogwarts. We'll deal with the rest."
Mom released a shaky breath then gave me a tight smile. "You know what this also means," she said. I waited, not liking the look in her eyes. "SHOPPING!," she said cheerfully. I groaned and dropped my head on to the table harder than intended. BANG "Oww!" "Cheer up Jess-Monkey, we also have massive lessons for you to do, and planning for the school year," his eyes shining yet his face was serious. I groaned and muttered, "I'm not a monkey. I'm a leopard!" Dad smiled at me and said, "Now, Jess you know that your sprit guide usually isn't the type of animal you'd be personality wise. You are more likely to be the opposite." A strange look appeared on my face as I cheekily said, "Hey, does that mean I'm a bitch?" (i.e. bitch= female dog) Mom glared, Dad just shook his head amused, and I smirked.
(Jessica's pov: outside the kitchen)
Straining to hear what was going on, I leaned closer to the doorway. After getting squeaky clean I had sneaked down the stairs 'They're talking about me, right? I should be allowed to hear what's going on," I reasoned. Still not wanting to be caught, I congratulated myself on not being spotted so far.
You know that sixth sense most parents have around their kids? Well in this house its worse. I can barely get away with anything! When I was little constantly did I block out the windows using blankets. Little noises would make me jump. Eddie, a boy down the street, nicknamed me Mouse until I threatened to clobber him. Why was I doing these things? Well, Mom, dear Mom has one warped sense of humor. She told me when I was five and a half that she could turn into any type of bird she wanted. Of course, I foolishly believed her. Why would she lie? I knew my mom was a witch and had seen other incredible feats, so it must have been true. Since she usually knew when I was hiding something, it appeared to be possible. Sometimes mom even knew why and exactly what I had been doing too. I know stupid, but understandable.
Focusing on the sounds coming from the kitchen, I regretted my inability to adjust my senses like Dad could. All I heard was "Jess---go---path--- support---pray." Not much, huh? Shaking my head, I was confused. 'What!? Am I going to some type of park?' Silently I repeated the words through my mind a couple of times. 'Almost sounds like they're sending me to some sort of military school. Yuck! Please not that! Military green is soo NOT my color. With my skin tone, that shade? I'll look like I'm about to puke at any moment!'
I tried to think back, to remember if I've done anything that would get me in this kind of trouble. 'Well-there was that time I poured ketchup into Lindsey's chair at lunch, but that was weeks ago!' My mind flashed back and I had just enough control to keep myself from laughing. Lindsey had shrieked so loudly when she sat down that three kids spilt milk outta their noses. It was great, a two-for-one. 'Okay, maybe it was petty, but Lindsey was being such a snob. I had to retaliate. Still, no reason for military school.'
Cringing slightly I could almost hear my father's voice calling me out for another lesson in morals. 'Oh, wait! That's real!' I stumbled slightly and grimaced. Caught once again by Mr. Radar. I peeked around the bend of the doorway. Dad was smiling at me while mom looked stuck between being amused and angry. I'm hoping for amused.
He was grinning at me now. "Yeah, you. I asked for you to come in, Jess- Monkey," he said calling me by that silly nickname. I personally don't get it. Walking casually into the kichen, I tilted my head to the side slightly and tried to look cute. Yep, that's right. I'm going for amused. "So, time for dinner?," I said distracting mom with a question and yeah she did glance at the clock. "Not quite," she said her eyes glinting with- reluctance? 'Maybe she's trying to avoid me or something. Could the news be that bad?' Usually mom would have more fun catching me at spying. "Peter'll be dropped off a little before five," she added. I nodded. It's just 4:30P.M. so he'd still be at Richie's house playing.
"Ok, soo--- ya wanted to talk?," I asked still trying to get out of being caught as well as easing my natural curiosity. I really should be used to it though. This was the real reason why I was afraid of birds. See, Dad can tell who's in the next room most times and when a person's lying. He'd then tell mom letting her deal with us kids. Guess he had to rat us out, but then felt a little guilty doing so at times. Most of the time we can't get anything past them. It's a cool skill, but annoying. Makes my job of being a kid so much harder than it should be. Really, it does.
Mom looked shocked at my question. I wonder why. 'She must really be dreading this conversation. Who is this person and where is my mother? Looks like she tried to knock herself out.' They're both pretty level headed most of the time despite their strange personalities. Then again, aren't adults supposed to be the thinkers, planners, and stuff? And people wonder why I not rushing to grow up. There's time for that later. Hmm, she still hasn't said anything so I looked to Dad. He nods at me then clears his throat. Mom's head jerks to his direction. Damn glad she's not looking at me like that.
"Yeah, Jess-Monkey. Grab a seat," he motioned to the booth near him. I love our kitchen booth. It's a half circle booth and table. Right now Mom in the chair on the straight side and I slide in the booth seating almost opposite of Dad. 'With the way they're reacting I think they'll let the spying slide this time. It really didn't do me any good anyway. Unless I really am going to a military school.' I gulped nervously and waited.
"Marie, can you bring the letter, please?," Dad asked. Mom seemed glad for an excuse to leave the room. I looked at Mom right before she got up quickly, leaving the room. The chair made a screeching sound as it was pushed back suddenly making me grimace. Looking at Dad, my expression must have been telling for he sighed before saying, "Let's read the letter out loud first, then we'll have our discussion." I know, I'm impatient, but at least I don't seem to be in trouble. If I was they'd probably be yelling already.
Mom swiftly returned to the kitchen holding a piece of paper which she placed firmly in the middle of the table staring at it as if it was a snake ready to strike. 'Man, why would this frighten her? I'm the one this concerns, the one in trouble. Right?' Looking at the letter (more like a package really) I had to agree that it looked odd. Thick and heavy, the envelope was yellowish-PARCHMENT? Only really eccentric people would use paper like that. Surely this can't be military school, so what is it? I reached out and brought it closer. My parents were strangely silent, almost as if they were watching me do something incredible. Okay that wasn't that hard in this house, but they were starting to freak me out.
I looked at the envelope noting the strange texture, the green ink that our address had been written in, and the disturbed---wax seal? Lack of a stamp made it even stranger. The already opened letter was addressed to me:
Miss J. Bradley Room Labeled The Disaster Area 12 County Line Road Gainesville, VA U.S.A.
Glancing at my parents I cautiously opened and read it. They must want to know my reaction to this. So, no explanations for me. I skimmed the writing eyes widening. Then I carefully read it again. In bright emerald green ink it said:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Miss Bradley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
Shocked, I automatically looked at the next sheet of paper. And heck, yeah, it was a list. Raising my head I dazed at my parents, mouth open. They appeared worried, both frowning and waited until it got to be too much for them. Dad waved a hand through my path of vision. Mom began to smirk and said, "Jess, hun. You're starting to drool." Both of their actions snapped me back to reality. "I'm a WITCH!," I shouted. Dad shook his head. Maybe his ears hurt. "Oh-My-God! I'm a Witch!," I said excitedly before suddenly frowning. "But how can I be a Witch? I thought I was a Psychic. Mom?"
"Well, brat-I don't rightly know how, but it appears that you're both a Witch and a Psychic. You remember how I told you that I gave birth to you in England? See, I didn't trust those Muggle's doctors (or familiar with Muggle ways), so you were born there near my family." Mom teared up a bit. I don't understand it but she tends to do that when she talks about that time. If it wasn't for their reassurances, I'd wondered if I was unwanted, an accident. She coughed lightly and continued, "Hogwarts was the school most of the family went to. I had a great time there as a girl. Anyway, I figure- since you were born in England that they must have registered you to attend school there." I nodded; Mom had told me about the magical book that registers each birth of witches and wizards in the country. Each school had one and never revealed the information outside of the senior staff members.
"But why all this production? And I remember you telling me when I was six that I couldn't be a witch because I'm a psychic?" My eyes searched them closely for answers. There must be more to this. Mom sighed and looked towards Dad. He leaned forward folding his hands together looking serious. "Jess, the genetics between different races is a tricky thing. No one quite knows how it works even between themselves. Psychics and Wizards - It's almost unheard of them intermingling, let alone having offspring."
Pausing, Dad took a deep breath. "Frankly, we had no idea what would happen. So, we were judging your abilities by theory. The theory is that with Psychics and Wizards being so opposite of each other from their talents to their origins, that the likelihood of children with any powers was slim to none. It was a joy when we discovered that you showed psychic potential. When we saw signs that Peter also being psychic a couple of months ago, we figured maybe psychic abilities are more dominant. Neither of you show signs that you had any type of magic," he finished looking weary.
Shaking my head to clear out the cobwebs there, I thought back on his words. Ok, genetics, big science, hard to understand. And here I was thinking I'm good at it. I don't understand. "I don't understand. So, what are you saying? Am I not a witch? A weak one? I know I'm psychic and you said I've got strong potential there, but what now? And why are you guys so worried?," questions spilling out of my mouth firing at them like bullets. Mom smiled slightly while Dad chuckled and pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear fondly.
"You're a witch, my girl. If you want to go you can," Mom said. Dad turned somewhat serious, "Don't know how strong you'll be or the effects of a Psychic-Witch are. You'll have to find that out for us. But this is going to be tougher than you think if you decide to go." He looked straight into my eyes, eyes that were so similar to his. "We told you about the prejudice that exists. You'll will have to deal with that constantly without our direct presence. Also, if you decide to go, we will have to figure out what you are going to tell people as well as how to teach you your psychic lessons while there."
I sat thinking. 'So this is what all that fuss is about' Searching the faces of my parents, I saw tons of emotions. I allowed my eyes to become unfocused and searched their auras. They always reveal the truth. Dad was a mix of blues, indigo, amber, some pale and dark green, pink, and apricot. Some were steady, others moving-flashing suddenly. He was mostly normal for him, just being extra supportive and a little worried. Mom was sky and navy blue, amber, apricot, a good bit of viridian, and a bit of rustic red. More worried than Dad, but still supportive. Turning my head downward I looked at my arms. Can't do this to myself very well without a mirror, but I tired anyway. Primrose, royal blue, and a few other colors registered. Well, that was my assessment. I took these pieces of information and considered to possibilities. Now, a decision. Dad looked at me knowingly, nodding as I said, "I'm going to Hogwarts. We'll deal with the rest."
Mom released a shaky breath then gave me a tight smile. "You know what this also means," she said. I waited, not liking the look in her eyes. "SHOPPING!," she said cheerfully. I groaned and dropped my head on to the table harder than intended. BANG "Oww!" "Cheer up Jess-Monkey, we also have massive lessons for you to do, and planning for the school year," his eyes shining yet his face was serious. I groaned and muttered, "I'm not a monkey. I'm a leopard!" Dad smiled at me and said, "Now, Jess you know that your sprit guide usually isn't the type of animal you'd be personality wise. You are more likely to be the opposite." A strange look appeared on my face as I cheekily said, "Hey, does that mean I'm a bitch?" (i.e. bitch= female dog) Mom glared, Dad just shook his head amused, and I smirked.