Disclaimer: Hem hem, and shame on me for I neglected this last part. The
entire world in which this story takes place was created by author J.K.
Rowling. Some characters, though, belong to me. Julianne and Pyrane Adhlar,
and Trevan Leigh belong to me as do all other unfamiliar characters.
- - -
Part 1
That's the Madness Already Setting In
- - -
"Do you want. to end up like me?" A twisted figure, features contorted almost beyond recognition whispered to her, reaching out towards her, "You know you can't say no, you know you would give anything to get back to what you left behind."
Something in that voice was too terrible for words to explain. In that ragged whisper, a sense of loss, of pain beyond imagining lingered as an almost tangible chill in the air. Perhaps the words weren't all that threatening, even that horrible thing that almost couldn't be called a person anymore wasn't all that threatening either. It was that voice that tore into her most of all, mostly because even then she knew it was entirely correct.
"Pyrane Adhlar." She said, a simple observation on what was fact to her in this dream.
She'd been buried last year, someone back at St. Mungo's had decided to send Julianne an owl to inform her that her cousin had finally 'died' or rather, stopped breathing. Ever since her sanity had given out like that fifteen years ago, she had considered her cousin as 'dead' or at least, gone from this world for the rest of eternity. She remembered it mostly because she'd thrown a shoe at the owl, not to be malicious, but Julianne hadn't needed that reminder of a life she'd left behind. It'd missed, though, and the owl had seemed rather miffed, dropping the letter and leaving hastily.
"No, not anymore. You're thinking it yourself. The one who was Pyrane was wiped away because of her own foolishness. But you also know you can't escape."
For once, Julianne had managed to wake up from a nightmare peacefully. Just snapped open her eyes, and all she was staring at was her bedroom ceiling. She'd been sure those awful dreams about her cousin and of course, the curse had disappeared long ago. Groaning as she sat up slowly, she thought that perhaps it would be best to see a therapist. A Muggle therapist, because after Albus Dumbledore had come to call yesterday she certainly needed no more reminders of the wizarding world.
It was one of those things she'd thought she should do ever since that fateful day when she'd just up and left her home back in London with not a word of explanation to anyone. Emptying her Gringotts vault and exchanging it all for Muggle currency, and settling down in the middle of nowhere, she'd put her wand and all remnants of her magic-using things that she couldn't bear to throw away in the corner of a rarely-used cabinet and let that be that. The nightmares about what sort of horror the effects of the Adhlar curse felt like had still haunted her, and she'd thought about seeing what the Muggles called a therapist or a psychologist, and ask them what to do about recurrent bad dreams. But those had faded away, until just now anyways.
Well, if past experience was any good indication, there was no way she'd be able to sleep peacefully any more tonight. It was only, she checked the digital alarm clock next to her, the glaring red digits said: 1:25. Well, then, if she looked tired at her bookstore job tomorrow, she'd just make up some excuse for it. That was, if anyone asked, small town people could be nosy but even after so long most of the people around here still regarded her warily.
And they're certainly warranted in doing so. I wouldn't trust myself to be anything but an outsider. She smiled a bit at the thought. After all, she had suddenly and quickly bought this old house with cash, no less and just settled in, all in the space of a week. Neighbors had come to call, but she hadn't had much to say to them. Just because she'd left her old life behind, didn't mean the Ministry of Magic wouldn't take action if she revealed too much about the magical world to them. Them meaning her now somewhat-friends and acquaintances, Muggles one and all and much simpler than any of her witch or wizard comrades had ever been.
Julianne had been rather surprised that they accepted her so easily, actually. The old woman who owned Pages of Happenstance, where she worked now had just immediately set her to doing everything about the place. Mrs. Kelson was a widow of at least eighty years if Julianne could venture a guess, and while she liked talking to her customers and reading silly stories about talking animals and whatnot to the children, she wasn't much of a person for calculations and inventory work. To the best of her own knowledge, Mrs. Kelson was in very good condition for an aged Muggle, but that didn't mean it was easy for her to take care of every aspect of running her beloved store. She had trusted the quiet young woman who suddenly appeared in her hometown; almost as if by magic, with opening the shop every morning at nine and taking care of anything her older self might have missed by mistake.
Mumbling and groaning about what a lack of sleep did to a person, she almost literally dragged herself out of bed and downstairs to her silent, darkened kitchen. Sitting down at the kitchen table where she and her old school Headmaster had been earlier this evening, she leaned her head down on a wrist and thought about it all. A less in-the-moment part of her wondered at what a mess she must look. Dressed in mismatched pajamas, her black hair mussed up from the pillows, her eyes bleary with the human need for sufficient slumber.
Then a thought hit her suddenly, like a gunshot. Who is important enough that anyone would come looking for me to even try bringing him back? Even though it could well be impossible, with something like it never having happened before? For all that Julianne really didn't know Albus Dumbledore very well, she had heard many things about him, even from her own parents before their hasty exit from that side of life. That it must be someone truly important if he chose to come calling, especially on someone who'd shown every indication of seperating herself from everything to do with witchcraft and wizardry.
Great, it was just wonderful that curiosity was now added to the mix of factors leading up to the inevitable conclusion that she would accept his unspoken invitation to consider returning to her Adhlar heritage, to at least consider assisting the mysterious person who'd had the utter misfortune to literally fall through the veil.
Because that wraith that had resembled Pyrane Adhlar in her nightmares had been right. Julianne had never been the sort to refuse any request, always been the type to at least put in a token effort toward doing her best for others if they asked. Oh, that was quite the weakness when it came to other students asking to coping her papers back at Hogwarts, but it was also the main issue now. Then there was the plain and simple fact that, frankly Julianne hadn't really wanted to leave her old life behind anyway. To her it had quite plainly been everything, though she was thankful that she'd taken Muggle Studies and fit in reasonably well here after the first few months.
Cowardice had driven her away, and she knew it. Fear that she'd one day have to face a similar fate to anyone who used the Adhlar abilities. But now, when there was no unresponsive Pyrane on a bed in St. Mungo's, that fear wasn't quite as obvious as it had been back then. And there was still that curiosity.
Curse that old looney, and may lightning strike him where he stands. Julianne scowled, as she realized all this she was definitely not in a forgiving mood, knowing that despite her initial doubts, she was going to give in. Conniving old dunghead, he knew I would end up going back to it all.
She graced the envelope he had left behind with an equally angry expression, as if she willed it to burst into flames. Why, she ought to get out her old wand, and set it on fire herself, but in her heart of hearts she knew she wouldn't be able to will herself to do that. Against her own sense of what would be best for her current almost-normal Muggle life, and knowing she wouldn't be able to return to it for some time, she snatched it from the tabletop and opened it.
Dear Julianne Adhlar,
If you're reading this, and I don't doubt that you probably will. (Yes, I do know that you generally do what others suggest, especially after all those incidences of cheating going on whenever no one else wanted to do their schoolwork and gave it all to you.)
You're still free to decide whether or not you'll accept my earlier request, and until then there remains little I may tell you. However, if you look into the wizarding world right now, it's in a straight mess and while what you can do wouldn't be able to set all things right, I will state that it's of potential importance, if not in the entire scheme of things certainly to some who are deeply involved in it. It would mean very much to many if you would at least try your hand in bringing this individual back.
Pulling a few strings with an old friend in that paticular department of the Ministry, I've had your fireplace temporarily reconnected to the Floo network, and it will remain as such until seven o'clock tomorrow evening. Be sure to guard this note carefully, and not lose it. If you decide against this whole matter, burn this note. Otherwise, keep it with you as proof of your identity. I've enclosed just enough Floo Powder to get you where you need to go. If you've decided to help out, come to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
-Albus Dumbledore
Now she sighed heavily, something she seemed to feel like doing more and more these days. Well, she had until tomorrow to set her things in order before setting off into the world she'd really thought she'd never manage to return to for what could potentially be an extended visit. Soul-calling someone back without his physical body to anchor it? If it wasn't entirely impossible, it certainly wasn't going to be the sort of thing to be accomplished in a day.
Maybe while I'm there I should have my family history checked a bit. She thought to herself. It wouldn't be out of hand to believe that a tendency for madness is probably a familial trait. Really, she'd never had any spectacular adventures even back at Hogwarts, but now she'd be attempting something never done before. If this wasn't madness, than what could it be?
- - -
"Julianne Adhlar? No, I don't believe we've ever met, but is she related to Pyrane Adhlar?" Remus Lupin inquired after he'd listened to Dumbledore's plans.
"Yes, they're cousins I believe, second cousins to be exact." Lately, they'd all begun to notice that his many years seemed to be taking their toll on him, the voice of reason and authority behind the Order of the Pheonix
"Ah. I don't remember her much, although she seemed a bit. Foolish, even if by all accounts she was one who saved not very few lives." He grimaced slightly at the memories of those unpleasant times, when Voldemort had last been rising to power, "Although I would rather not speak ill of those who met much grief later on."
It was probably most appropriate to be just telling Lupin about what could be one of their only plausible options in doing something to help Sirius Black. They'd been friends, along with the now-deceased James Potter and treacherous Peter Pettigrew way back in their schooldays, and yet Remus was one of the few who could assess such a plan without letting his emotions get too much in the way.
Certainly most of the Order didn't think as highly of Sirius, since for most of the last fourteen years or so most of the wizarding world had thought him a convicted murderer. Few of them knew him well, and most of the ones who did weren't in the sort of position to give an objective opinion about anything to do with Sirius. Severus Snape certainly would be much more partial to the idea of just letting things be, wherever Lupin's old friend was now. As for Harry. It could only be cruel to tell him of this possibility now, when no guarantees could be made.
"For all that Pyrane made her mark in helping in the effort against Voldemort, I'd have to agree in that she was foolish. She soul-chased for many Aurors who in turn managed to go on fighting the Death Eaters with their narrowly retreived lives. Yet she did it all without thinking as to the consequences. That can ultimately only be considered entirely selfless, yet it also hurt many others as well." The silver-haired old wizard paused, as if in deep memory, "Yes, it was what sent most of the Adhlar line running off and away from the War, to live as Muggles. The knowing what could well face them if they used that part of their family heritage."
"Ah." He nodded gravely, understanding, "It's considered a Family Curse, isn't it? Aren't they all registered at the Ministry. Much like werewolves?"
"Yes." Dumbledore affirmed, with an equally grave nod, "Although the Registry of Cursed Families was already in badly maintained state even when I first started teaching at Hogwarts. Too many old and influential families were highly persuasive in their quest to eliminate records of what could be afflicting their bloodlines." With a slightly bemused expression, something that was rare in these trying times, he said, "An alarming number of those curses are because their long-ago ancestors did commit some foul deed, although if that counts for anything, the condition of the Adhlar family was something that's existed since before records were kept."
"It would put a sort of stigma of anyone affected, though." Lupin agreed, "Whether they were responsible for it's being put on them or not."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going." Dumbledore quietly got up and left their meeting place in one of the numerous seemingly useless rooms in their current headquarters. "Farewell, Remus."
"Farewell, Albus." For a moment he smiled at how odd it was to address the old headmaster by his first name.
It was something most of them had trouble doing, practically the entire Order still thought of Albus Dumbledore as a headmaster, a figure of authority even as none of them had been studying at Hogwarts for quite some time. Therefore, it was difficult to address him by his name, yet most of them had grown out of calling him 'Headmaster' all the time as well, a perplexing dilemma.
One that was entirely overshadowed by his endless contemplations as to what it really meant to have Sirius dead. Or perhaps not dead, if truly was a unique occurrence to have someone be literally go though the veil. It just was one of those things that had never managed to happen before, for as long it had been kept in the Department of Mysteries. Even the veil was a sort of paradox, a door opened to somewhere that no one wanted to go and certainly that no one could return through, but it just had to exist all the same. They'd all taken his old school friend Padfoot for dead, and they might as well because it was considered in the realm of definite fact that no one could just step back through the veil.
Loss always brought new and confusing thoughts to any person. When he'd first heard that Sirius had allegedly betrayed James and been responsible for the death of half of their old crowd back at Hogwarts, he's come to accept that Sirius as he had known was dead. After such happenings, there could certainly no longer be any sort of friendship between the two. Then when his innocence had been proved through the revelation of Peter's duplicity, it had brought back the memories of the 'good old days', and that had been nice, to be able to know that and old friend you reminisced about sometimes wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. But now? He found himself laughing bitterly, how sadistic fate could be. To take away an old friend, give him back and then rip him away again.
Maybe he hadn't gotten to know Sirius Black again, and obviously they couldn't all just be 'the Marauders' again, the close and inseperable group they had been way back when, it was still painful to know that this second loss could easily have been prevented. If only they'd stopped him from coming along to rescue Harry and his friends from the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries that fateful night, if only.
- - -
"You know, we could hear the floor creaking as you knelt by the door to listen in." Albus Dumbledore mused as he passed another man in his late twenties standing by the staircase, trying - and failing miserably to look nonchalant.
"Well, nothing every seems to escape you." He grumbled, before turning the full force of his still boyish grin toward the head of the Order of the Pheonix, "Really, I can't stop myself, it's part of that Leigh curiosity if you will."
"Certainly, being from such a cursed family you would know, I suppose. Curiosity might have killed the cat but it always kills the Leigh." He stated the family motto with an air of light amusement, "You knew Julianne Adhlar well in her school days?" He asked as he disappeared down the stairs.
"Yes. I did." He whispered, though Dumbledore probably couldn't hear it. "And replace 'curiosity' with 'stupid risk-taking bravado' to be much more historically correct."
The Leighs were a rather recently established Wizarding family. Mitchell Leigh, a wizard from an otherwise Muggle family some ninety years before had managed to start a family that leaned very heavily to producing children with sufficient magical power to be considered witches and wizards. However, old Mitchell may god rest his soul had in the end given in to curiosity. Just had to see if he could go that extra day before seeing a doctor, just because! When four of his seven children had met their ends directly because of a sort of curiosity or rather risk-taking bravado some git in the Ministry had decided it was cause to consider the Leighs a fully cursed family, something old Mitchell's posterity had taken to good-naturedly. Five deaths in such a small family in the short space of three months had to mean something foul was afoot. Could a tendency for taking entirely frivolous risks even be considered a curse, when in many ways most deaths were an indirect result of some risk taken. Take poor Sirius Black, if he had just stayed here instead of running off like that. Or if his rather foolish godson hadn't decided to so foolishly go to the Department of Mysteries then.
Although no one could say his familial curse of sorts had anything on poor Julianne's. But she always said to call her Julia because there was another Julianne in Ravenclaw back then. And he'd always know her as the little Julia he could talk about his cloying parents to. What with them getting into full-blown panic every single time he set out to do anything. Mostly because happenstance had pushed them together, both children with a somewhat infamous familial name. (Adhlar being well-known as a paticularly unfortunate family to associate with, Leighs being avoiced in general because most had heard they were as strange as all get-out.)
But Trevan Leigh had almost entirely forgotten little Julia. She'd left in the middle of their fifth year, completely without explanation. After going off just before the start of their Christmas holiday to visit a sick relative, supposedly, she'd just never returned. He'd tried to send her an owl, several in fact but maybe it was because his old owl had been a bit addled by too many mild crashings into windows because he'd returned with the unopened letters every time. Further research by going in person to her house the following summer proved fruitless when no one even came to open the front gate at her family's old house in London.
He'd known what her family curse happened to be, but he hadn't thought much of it even when he'd heard what happened to fellow Order member Sirius Black. (Trevan had never been given any combative assignments yet, he wasn't as experienced as any of the older memebers and even he would admit he couldn't keep his head in a crisis anywhere near as well as dear Tonks could. Alas, all that he could do was watch for targets of middling importance either as a protector or spy depending on the target person and make sure nothing too radical happened which they didn't know about. ) To think that they were going to try pulling out someone who had actually passed that line that was the veil, though, and not only in spirit but in person as well.
He nearly tsked at such a previously unheard-of plan. Still, if the general heedless nature of the Leigh family, which he'd gotten in full force was anything to go by, it was his philosophy that such risky or entirely original plans should generally be given a go if at all possible. So he would fully support this effort, if his opinion were ever asked for, and even if it weren't.
No one had ever said it would be a simple matter for an all-too-ordinary and occasionally-still-childish-acting man to be accepted among the august company he seemed to be finding himself in. At least it wasn't the Ministry he had to be dealing with every day, even if just about everyone else in the Order always looked torn between reprimanding him for his lack of formality or just outright laughing at him. Though it's justified, I suppose, since I'm always playing the idiot. That was, after all what made him useful. No one, least of all a Death Eater, ever suspected that the somewhat batty young wizard who lived down the lane was really watching their every move.
---
Author's Notes:
Thank you to all reviewers who were kind enough to comment! As per Rocker Baby's request here is a short description of protagonist Julianne Adhlar.
Full Name: Julianne Adhlar-Wang
(Her mother happens to be a second-generation immigrant with roots in China. That's not a major plot point though, as Julianne has never decided to learn much of her mother's culture. It's just something I worked in because I'm also of Asian blood. Think of it as a somewhat-cameo of the author's ethnicity!)
Age: 29 (That's until her birthday in late October.)
Height: 5'6''
Physical Appearance: skinny, straight and 'mathematically precise' features, shoulder legnth black hair that's layered, brown eyes of an 'ordinary shade'
Also, I'd definitely like more reviews, constructive criticism or not. I'd especially like to know what readers think of Trevan. Sirius will definitely be a major character when Julianne finally gets around to reviving him through 'soul-chasing', but until then it's mostly Julianne and Trevan being crucial in the story. Both characters will be ruminating a bit on their own appearance in the next part, in reasonably objective fashion. I'd hope that neither are behaving like Mary-Sue type characters. (Hint, this is a prompt for comments telling me whether or not they are being obstinately over-perfect.)
Until next update, farewell.
- - -
Part 1
That's the Madness Already Setting In
- - -
"Do you want. to end up like me?" A twisted figure, features contorted almost beyond recognition whispered to her, reaching out towards her, "You know you can't say no, you know you would give anything to get back to what you left behind."
Something in that voice was too terrible for words to explain. In that ragged whisper, a sense of loss, of pain beyond imagining lingered as an almost tangible chill in the air. Perhaps the words weren't all that threatening, even that horrible thing that almost couldn't be called a person anymore wasn't all that threatening either. It was that voice that tore into her most of all, mostly because even then she knew it was entirely correct.
"Pyrane Adhlar." She said, a simple observation on what was fact to her in this dream.
She'd been buried last year, someone back at St. Mungo's had decided to send Julianne an owl to inform her that her cousin had finally 'died' or rather, stopped breathing. Ever since her sanity had given out like that fifteen years ago, she had considered her cousin as 'dead' or at least, gone from this world for the rest of eternity. She remembered it mostly because she'd thrown a shoe at the owl, not to be malicious, but Julianne hadn't needed that reminder of a life she'd left behind. It'd missed, though, and the owl had seemed rather miffed, dropping the letter and leaving hastily.
"No, not anymore. You're thinking it yourself. The one who was Pyrane was wiped away because of her own foolishness. But you also know you can't escape."
For once, Julianne had managed to wake up from a nightmare peacefully. Just snapped open her eyes, and all she was staring at was her bedroom ceiling. She'd been sure those awful dreams about her cousin and of course, the curse had disappeared long ago. Groaning as she sat up slowly, she thought that perhaps it would be best to see a therapist. A Muggle therapist, because after Albus Dumbledore had come to call yesterday she certainly needed no more reminders of the wizarding world.
It was one of those things she'd thought she should do ever since that fateful day when she'd just up and left her home back in London with not a word of explanation to anyone. Emptying her Gringotts vault and exchanging it all for Muggle currency, and settling down in the middle of nowhere, she'd put her wand and all remnants of her magic-using things that she couldn't bear to throw away in the corner of a rarely-used cabinet and let that be that. The nightmares about what sort of horror the effects of the Adhlar curse felt like had still haunted her, and she'd thought about seeing what the Muggles called a therapist or a psychologist, and ask them what to do about recurrent bad dreams. But those had faded away, until just now anyways.
Well, if past experience was any good indication, there was no way she'd be able to sleep peacefully any more tonight. It was only, she checked the digital alarm clock next to her, the glaring red digits said: 1:25. Well, then, if she looked tired at her bookstore job tomorrow, she'd just make up some excuse for it. That was, if anyone asked, small town people could be nosy but even after so long most of the people around here still regarded her warily.
And they're certainly warranted in doing so. I wouldn't trust myself to be anything but an outsider. She smiled a bit at the thought. After all, she had suddenly and quickly bought this old house with cash, no less and just settled in, all in the space of a week. Neighbors had come to call, but she hadn't had much to say to them. Just because she'd left her old life behind, didn't mean the Ministry of Magic wouldn't take action if she revealed too much about the magical world to them. Them meaning her now somewhat-friends and acquaintances, Muggles one and all and much simpler than any of her witch or wizard comrades had ever been.
Julianne had been rather surprised that they accepted her so easily, actually. The old woman who owned Pages of Happenstance, where she worked now had just immediately set her to doing everything about the place. Mrs. Kelson was a widow of at least eighty years if Julianne could venture a guess, and while she liked talking to her customers and reading silly stories about talking animals and whatnot to the children, she wasn't much of a person for calculations and inventory work. To the best of her own knowledge, Mrs. Kelson was in very good condition for an aged Muggle, but that didn't mean it was easy for her to take care of every aspect of running her beloved store. She had trusted the quiet young woman who suddenly appeared in her hometown; almost as if by magic, with opening the shop every morning at nine and taking care of anything her older self might have missed by mistake.
Mumbling and groaning about what a lack of sleep did to a person, she almost literally dragged herself out of bed and downstairs to her silent, darkened kitchen. Sitting down at the kitchen table where she and her old school Headmaster had been earlier this evening, she leaned her head down on a wrist and thought about it all. A less in-the-moment part of her wondered at what a mess she must look. Dressed in mismatched pajamas, her black hair mussed up from the pillows, her eyes bleary with the human need for sufficient slumber.
Then a thought hit her suddenly, like a gunshot. Who is important enough that anyone would come looking for me to even try bringing him back? Even though it could well be impossible, with something like it never having happened before? For all that Julianne really didn't know Albus Dumbledore very well, she had heard many things about him, even from her own parents before their hasty exit from that side of life. That it must be someone truly important if he chose to come calling, especially on someone who'd shown every indication of seperating herself from everything to do with witchcraft and wizardry.
Great, it was just wonderful that curiosity was now added to the mix of factors leading up to the inevitable conclusion that she would accept his unspoken invitation to consider returning to her Adhlar heritage, to at least consider assisting the mysterious person who'd had the utter misfortune to literally fall through the veil.
Because that wraith that had resembled Pyrane Adhlar in her nightmares had been right. Julianne had never been the sort to refuse any request, always been the type to at least put in a token effort toward doing her best for others if they asked. Oh, that was quite the weakness when it came to other students asking to coping her papers back at Hogwarts, but it was also the main issue now. Then there was the plain and simple fact that, frankly Julianne hadn't really wanted to leave her old life behind anyway. To her it had quite plainly been everything, though she was thankful that she'd taken Muggle Studies and fit in reasonably well here after the first few months.
Cowardice had driven her away, and she knew it. Fear that she'd one day have to face a similar fate to anyone who used the Adhlar abilities. But now, when there was no unresponsive Pyrane on a bed in St. Mungo's, that fear wasn't quite as obvious as it had been back then. And there was still that curiosity.
Curse that old looney, and may lightning strike him where he stands. Julianne scowled, as she realized all this she was definitely not in a forgiving mood, knowing that despite her initial doubts, she was going to give in. Conniving old dunghead, he knew I would end up going back to it all.
She graced the envelope he had left behind with an equally angry expression, as if she willed it to burst into flames. Why, she ought to get out her old wand, and set it on fire herself, but in her heart of hearts she knew she wouldn't be able to will herself to do that. Against her own sense of what would be best for her current almost-normal Muggle life, and knowing she wouldn't be able to return to it for some time, she snatched it from the tabletop and opened it.
Dear Julianne Adhlar,
If you're reading this, and I don't doubt that you probably will. (Yes, I do know that you generally do what others suggest, especially after all those incidences of cheating going on whenever no one else wanted to do their schoolwork and gave it all to you.)
You're still free to decide whether or not you'll accept my earlier request, and until then there remains little I may tell you. However, if you look into the wizarding world right now, it's in a straight mess and while what you can do wouldn't be able to set all things right, I will state that it's of potential importance, if not in the entire scheme of things certainly to some who are deeply involved in it. It would mean very much to many if you would at least try your hand in bringing this individual back.
Pulling a few strings with an old friend in that paticular department of the Ministry, I've had your fireplace temporarily reconnected to the Floo network, and it will remain as such until seven o'clock tomorrow evening. Be sure to guard this note carefully, and not lose it. If you decide against this whole matter, burn this note. Otherwise, keep it with you as proof of your identity. I've enclosed just enough Floo Powder to get you where you need to go. If you've decided to help out, come to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
-Albus Dumbledore
Now she sighed heavily, something she seemed to feel like doing more and more these days. Well, she had until tomorrow to set her things in order before setting off into the world she'd really thought she'd never manage to return to for what could potentially be an extended visit. Soul-calling someone back without his physical body to anchor it? If it wasn't entirely impossible, it certainly wasn't going to be the sort of thing to be accomplished in a day.
Maybe while I'm there I should have my family history checked a bit. She thought to herself. It wouldn't be out of hand to believe that a tendency for madness is probably a familial trait. Really, she'd never had any spectacular adventures even back at Hogwarts, but now she'd be attempting something never done before. If this wasn't madness, than what could it be?
- - -
"Julianne Adhlar? No, I don't believe we've ever met, but is she related to Pyrane Adhlar?" Remus Lupin inquired after he'd listened to Dumbledore's plans.
"Yes, they're cousins I believe, second cousins to be exact." Lately, they'd all begun to notice that his many years seemed to be taking their toll on him, the voice of reason and authority behind the Order of the Pheonix
"Ah. I don't remember her much, although she seemed a bit. Foolish, even if by all accounts she was one who saved not very few lives." He grimaced slightly at the memories of those unpleasant times, when Voldemort had last been rising to power, "Although I would rather not speak ill of those who met much grief later on."
It was probably most appropriate to be just telling Lupin about what could be one of their only plausible options in doing something to help Sirius Black. They'd been friends, along with the now-deceased James Potter and treacherous Peter Pettigrew way back in their schooldays, and yet Remus was one of the few who could assess such a plan without letting his emotions get too much in the way.
Certainly most of the Order didn't think as highly of Sirius, since for most of the last fourteen years or so most of the wizarding world had thought him a convicted murderer. Few of them knew him well, and most of the ones who did weren't in the sort of position to give an objective opinion about anything to do with Sirius. Severus Snape certainly would be much more partial to the idea of just letting things be, wherever Lupin's old friend was now. As for Harry. It could only be cruel to tell him of this possibility now, when no guarantees could be made.
"For all that Pyrane made her mark in helping in the effort against Voldemort, I'd have to agree in that she was foolish. She soul-chased for many Aurors who in turn managed to go on fighting the Death Eaters with their narrowly retreived lives. Yet she did it all without thinking as to the consequences. That can ultimately only be considered entirely selfless, yet it also hurt many others as well." The silver-haired old wizard paused, as if in deep memory, "Yes, it was what sent most of the Adhlar line running off and away from the War, to live as Muggles. The knowing what could well face them if they used that part of their family heritage."
"Ah." He nodded gravely, understanding, "It's considered a Family Curse, isn't it? Aren't they all registered at the Ministry. Much like werewolves?"
"Yes." Dumbledore affirmed, with an equally grave nod, "Although the Registry of Cursed Families was already in badly maintained state even when I first started teaching at Hogwarts. Too many old and influential families were highly persuasive in their quest to eliminate records of what could be afflicting their bloodlines." With a slightly bemused expression, something that was rare in these trying times, he said, "An alarming number of those curses are because their long-ago ancestors did commit some foul deed, although if that counts for anything, the condition of the Adhlar family was something that's existed since before records were kept."
"It would put a sort of stigma of anyone affected, though." Lupin agreed, "Whether they were responsible for it's being put on them or not."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going." Dumbledore quietly got up and left their meeting place in one of the numerous seemingly useless rooms in their current headquarters. "Farewell, Remus."
"Farewell, Albus." For a moment he smiled at how odd it was to address the old headmaster by his first name.
It was something most of them had trouble doing, practically the entire Order still thought of Albus Dumbledore as a headmaster, a figure of authority even as none of them had been studying at Hogwarts for quite some time. Therefore, it was difficult to address him by his name, yet most of them had grown out of calling him 'Headmaster' all the time as well, a perplexing dilemma.
One that was entirely overshadowed by his endless contemplations as to what it really meant to have Sirius dead. Or perhaps not dead, if truly was a unique occurrence to have someone be literally go though the veil. It just was one of those things that had never managed to happen before, for as long it had been kept in the Department of Mysteries. Even the veil was a sort of paradox, a door opened to somewhere that no one wanted to go and certainly that no one could return through, but it just had to exist all the same. They'd all taken his old school friend Padfoot for dead, and they might as well because it was considered in the realm of definite fact that no one could just step back through the veil.
Loss always brought new and confusing thoughts to any person. When he'd first heard that Sirius had allegedly betrayed James and been responsible for the death of half of their old crowd back at Hogwarts, he's come to accept that Sirius as he had known was dead. After such happenings, there could certainly no longer be any sort of friendship between the two. Then when his innocence had been proved through the revelation of Peter's duplicity, it had brought back the memories of the 'good old days', and that had been nice, to be able to know that and old friend you reminisced about sometimes wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. But now? He found himself laughing bitterly, how sadistic fate could be. To take away an old friend, give him back and then rip him away again.
Maybe he hadn't gotten to know Sirius Black again, and obviously they couldn't all just be 'the Marauders' again, the close and inseperable group they had been way back when, it was still painful to know that this second loss could easily have been prevented. If only they'd stopped him from coming along to rescue Harry and his friends from the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries that fateful night, if only.
- - -
"You know, we could hear the floor creaking as you knelt by the door to listen in." Albus Dumbledore mused as he passed another man in his late twenties standing by the staircase, trying - and failing miserably to look nonchalant.
"Well, nothing every seems to escape you." He grumbled, before turning the full force of his still boyish grin toward the head of the Order of the Pheonix, "Really, I can't stop myself, it's part of that Leigh curiosity if you will."
"Certainly, being from such a cursed family you would know, I suppose. Curiosity might have killed the cat but it always kills the Leigh." He stated the family motto with an air of light amusement, "You knew Julianne Adhlar well in her school days?" He asked as he disappeared down the stairs.
"Yes. I did." He whispered, though Dumbledore probably couldn't hear it. "And replace 'curiosity' with 'stupid risk-taking bravado' to be much more historically correct."
The Leighs were a rather recently established Wizarding family. Mitchell Leigh, a wizard from an otherwise Muggle family some ninety years before had managed to start a family that leaned very heavily to producing children with sufficient magical power to be considered witches and wizards. However, old Mitchell may god rest his soul had in the end given in to curiosity. Just had to see if he could go that extra day before seeing a doctor, just because! When four of his seven children had met their ends directly because of a sort of curiosity or rather risk-taking bravado some git in the Ministry had decided it was cause to consider the Leighs a fully cursed family, something old Mitchell's posterity had taken to good-naturedly. Five deaths in such a small family in the short space of three months had to mean something foul was afoot. Could a tendency for taking entirely frivolous risks even be considered a curse, when in many ways most deaths were an indirect result of some risk taken. Take poor Sirius Black, if he had just stayed here instead of running off like that. Or if his rather foolish godson hadn't decided to so foolishly go to the Department of Mysteries then.
Although no one could say his familial curse of sorts had anything on poor Julianne's. But she always said to call her Julia because there was another Julianne in Ravenclaw back then. And he'd always know her as the little Julia he could talk about his cloying parents to. What with them getting into full-blown panic every single time he set out to do anything. Mostly because happenstance had pushed them together, both children with a somewhat infamous familial name. (Adhlar being well-known as a paticularly unfortunate family to associate with, Leighs being avoiced in general because most had heard they were as strange as all get-out.)
But Trevan Leigh had almost entirely forgotten little Julia. She'd left in the middle of their fifth year, completely without explanation. After going off just before the start of their Christmas holiday to visit a sick relative, supposedly, she'd just never returned. He'd tried to send her an owl, several in fact but maybe it was because his old owl had been a bit addled by too many mild crashings into windows because he'd returned with the unopened letters every time. Further research by going in person to her house the following summer proved fruitless when no one even came to open the front gate at her family's old house in London.
He'd known what her family curse happened to be, but he hadn't thought much of it even when he'd heard what happened to fellow Order member Sirius Black. (Trevan had never been given any combative assignments yet, he wasn't as experienced as any of the older memebers and even he would admit he couldn't keep his head in a crisis anywhere near as well as dear Tonks could. Alas, all that he could do was watch for targets of middling importance either as a protector or spy depending on the target person and make sure nothing too radical happened which they didn't know about. ) To think that they were going to try pulling out someone who had actually passed that line that was the veil, though, and not only in spirit but in person as well.
He nearly tsked at such a previously unheard-of plan. Still, if the general heedless nature of the Leigh family, which he'd gotten in full force was anything to go by, it was his philosophy that such risky or entirely original plans should generally be given a go if at all possible. So he would fully support this effort, if his opinion were ever asked for, and even if it weren't.
No one had ever said it would be a simple matter for an all-too-ordinary and occasionally-still-childish-acting man to be accepted among the august company he seemed to be finding himself in. At least it wasn't the Ministry he had to be dealing with every day, even if just about everyone else in the Order always looked torn between reprimanding him for his lack of formality or just outright laughing at him. Though it's justified, I suppose, since I'm always playing the idiot. That was, after all what made him useful. No one, least of all a Death Eater, ever suspected that the somewhat batty young wizard who lived down the lane was really watching their every move.
---
Author's Notes:
Thank you to all reviewers who were kind enough to comment! As per Rocker Baby's request here is a short description of protagonist Julianne Adhlar.
Full Name: Julianne Adhlar-Wang
(Her mother happens to be a second-generation immigrant with roots in China. That's not a major plot point though, as Julianne has never decided to learn much of her mother's culture. It's just something I worked in because I'm also of Asian blood. Think of it as a somewhat-cameo of the author's ethnicity!)
Age: 29 (That's until her birthday in late October.)
Height: 5'6''
Physical Appearance: skinny, straight and 'mathematically precise' features, shoulder legnth black hair that's layered, brown eyes of an 'ordinary shade'
Also, I'd definitely like more reviews, constructive criticism or not. I'd especially like to know what readers think of Trevan. Sirius will definitely be a major character when Julianne finally gets around to reviving him through 'soul-chasing', but until then it's mostly Julianne and Trevan being crucial in the story. Both characters will be ruminating a bit on their own appearance in the next part, in reasonably objective fashion. I'd hope that neither are behaving like Mary-Sue type characters. (Hint, this is a prompt for comments telling me whether or not they are being obstinately over-perfect.)
Until next update, farewell.