Disclaimers: The world of Harry Potter belongs solely to J.K. Rowling and
whatever publishers it's been sold/licensed to. Like each and every other
fan-author I claim no ownership. Perhaps I shall leave these out the next
time I post, for these 'disclaimers' are annoying to write.
- - -
Part 3
Explanations Long Overdue
- - -
She stepped into a drawing room on the first floor, frowning at the horrid tapestry that almost entirely covered one wall. A family tree of "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" all the way from what seemed to be the Middle Ages except for a few burnt holes here and there where certain names seemed to have once been. Oh, so they were one of those pure- blood crazed families. The Adhlar family had an extensive family tree somewhere back at her paternal great-grandfather's manor but it wasn't very well-maintained; filled with blank spaces where relatives had run off to integrate themselves into the Muggle work. Although no one could really consider the Adhlars a pure-blooded family since they did usually get married to Muggle-born witches and wizards to whom the stigma of cursed blood was not as much of a deterrent. The last family patriarch who'd given a care to things such as maintaining the purity of Adhlar blood had died more than sixty years before her father's time. "Toujours Pur", was written under it's heading, whatever that meant. Was it Latin? Or French? The rather tarnished gold thread of the tapestry still held a rather sinister glint to her eyes.
How quaint, she thought to herself. Another reminder of the life she was still trying with little success to serperate herself from. Staying here with people banging in and out at all hours for the last few days didn't leave her in the most generous of moods. She would be especially agitated when she thought of the state her small but carefully kept garden would be in. Weeds tended to sprout up like mad in the summertime.
There wasn't a single Adhlar to be seen anywhere on the Black family tree though. More respectable wizarding families tended to stay far away from families known to be cursed as far as suitable matches for their children went. Adhlars especially, even if their work was to prevent death in those on the brink, were probably on balance with Thestrals or Grims as far as reputation for bad luck went. Considering what tended to happen to them after they used their gifts, it was obvious why. The idea that their spouse and children would lose both sanity and health if they used their birthright wasn't an easy idea for anyone to swallow. Ah, there was Dumbledore, sitting in a ratty old green-upholstered armchair in the corner, near an old scratched-up writing desk.
"Good day, Miss Adhlar. sherbert lemon?" Yes, it was definitely Albus Dumbledore, but looking a bit less exhausted than he had four days ago.
Julianne glared at it with obvious suspicion bordering on hostility, remembering the nosebleed incident from three days before. After Fred and George Weasley's 'Nosebleed Nougat', she had as a matter of course decided to stay far away from all sweets offered to her by any known witch or wizard.
"Don't worry, it's just a Muggle candy that I happen to be quite partial to, and not one of the Weasley twins' delightful creations." He said the last bit with what seemed to be sincerity, and with a twinkle in his eye.
"Alright then." She took it and placed it in her mouth, though she braced herself, still half-expecting to suddenly be covered in boils or something of the sort, though she took some comfort in the fact that he seemed to be eating one also. (Could that be a dependable indication for the safety of the lemon drop though?)
"I'm guessing you have many questions that you'd like to ask. I'll do my sincere best to answer as many as I can. However, you must forgive me if there are some things that cannot be disclosed to you yet." That grave expression on his face from four days ago had returned.
She nodded, "I understand. It's already apparent that many things have happened since I left."
"I suppose I have to start with telling you that Sirius Black is, despite all the Ministry's claims, an innocent man."
- - -
"So, what did our old Headmaster deign to explain to you?" Trevan Leigh leaned against the wall lazily, "Enough for you to make a decision?"
She looked him in the eye, and gave him a dirty look. Brown eyes to gray, those brown eyes narrowing even more as she appraised him up and down. Trevan's already broad grin grew wider as Julianne stayed completely silent.
He was perfectly aware he didn't look like he usually did. As a result of being set to watch a wizard who lived among rather odd Muggles, Trevan had decided that the best way to blend in and not be noticed was to look just like those decidedly odd Muggles. The last time Trevan had come by to Number 12, he'd been the very picture of the standard wizard. Dark robes in a sedate black over collared shirt and slacks, with his somwhat long sandy blond hair tied back neatly, and a pair of reading glasses had completed the mature businesslike appearance he generally adopted. Now he'd thrown that dressing style entirely out through the window, and looked significantly different. His hair was streaked with red and a part of it was combed over the left side of his face. He wore closely cut Muggle clothing and an oversurfeit of tasteless, blocky jewelry.
"First thing, I don't believe you quite got the teenage pseudo-punk image down right." She said cooly, "But you're right, he didn't tell me much, just that it was potentially dangerous if too much of what was going on managed to leak out."
"Nothing you couldn't conclude reasonably well on your own?" He inquired, taking the oppurtunity to ruffle her hair as he drew closer to her, "I'd guess that you'd rather be told more anyway."
"He did imply that whatever was being done by the people here, it wasn't with the full cooperation of the Ministry." She busied herself with trying to keep his hand off the top of her head. "And that Sirius Black was innocent and quite important to someone whose had it worse than anyone deserves."
"Oh. Harry Potter?" It was hard to sound nonchalant about a child who'd been touted as a hero during her last days in the wizarding world, Julianne still thought of him as the baby mentioned as being the downfall of He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named, and not as whatever person he might have grown up into by now.
"Yes, he focused a bit on the fact that this wasn't all that important, my decision on it, I mean to the outcome of the current conflict with You- Know-Who, but that the people this would matter most to deserve better than life's thrown at them, even if it isn't fully my responsibility." Confident that her shoulder-length dark hair was once again lying flat, she folded her arms and sighed, "But I suppose because of my own foolishness, I was going to accept with or without knowing that."
Trevan nodded slowly, as if agreeing, "If it counts for anything, I think that's the right decision. Harry, for all that he seems to be a bit bratty sometimes, is someone whose been faced with more than anyone his age should have to deal with. If you succeed, I know it'd at least help allay his guilt that Sirius fell through the Veil while trying to save him."
"It does count to me." She smiled slightly, but if past experience was anything to go on, he was sure it was a 'true' smile. "Although I don't know if it's possible, and certainly don't know how to go about it."
Both started at the sound of the drawing room door opening. It was only Dumbledore, though. Of course, Trevan gave himself a mental slap, he did have to come out here sometime and it seemed that Apparition just wasn't done while within Number 12 Grimmauld Place. (Supposedly Apparition had initally been strongly discouraged as one never knew when the Ministry might be monitering it, and even now that they were not as openly defying the Ministry. Force of habit was a difficult thing to break out of.)
Still, it was good to see that their leader of sorts was looking far better than he had for a while. The events of the many past months, and indeed ever since Voldemort first appeared so many years ago, had taken a severe toll on the Order's leader. Age was a very undefined thing for those of wizarding blood. One's appearance and physical condition were more related to the amount of strain they placed on themselves than anything else. At more than a century old, Dumbledore had probably done enough just in the past fifteen years or so for someone twice that age. Yet, Trevan had to hand it to the man, for all that he maintained a long white hair and a beard he usually looked quite sprightly, for all that he must have uncountable amounts of important things always on his mind. There were definitely many good reasons why the Dark Lord feared Dumbledore.
"If I may give some advice as your past headmaster." His eyes had that familiar twinkle in them. "I would highly recommend searching out the old family journals kept at Adhlar manor. Some of your ancestors kept very meticulous records of when and how they used the Adhlar gift." As he walked down the hall, he added, "Although searching them out might not be an easy task."
Trevan smiled broadly at Julianne, "Sounds like we're on for a sort of vacation trip then. The people I'd been shadowing were getting to be such a bore. What's with the long face?"
"Who said you were coming anyway? It was only a suggestion." Then she frowned slightly more, "Although if I want to try it, he's correct that it'll be a difficult task."
"How so? You just breeze in to the family library, get the books and come out, sounds very simple and straightforward to me."
- - -
Julianne scowled rather unpleasantly at nothing in paticular while thinking of the old house that was generally designated 'Adhlar manor' simply because since a long ago family patriarch had bought it, it'd been shunted down through the family to any Adhlar offshoot who would take it. (Accepting the house pretty much meant one was still on decent terms with the wizarding world, or wanted to live the life of a recluse. It was out in the middle of nowhere, covered thoroughly with every spell-based protection ever devised, and generally not convenient for those attempting to live a more Muggle-like lifestyle.)
It had been uninhabited and generally gathering dust since her father and mother had upped and finally left the wizarding world ten years ago, a short five years after their daughter had turned her back on aforementioned world. Ten years worth of dust wouldn't make searching out 'old family journals' a very pleasant task. Also, her both of her parents had been rather indecisive in their decorating and arranging, and it was as good as anyone's guess where those 'old family journals' would be.
"I don't think it will be quite that simple." Julianne muttered under her breath, "Mother and father dear were notoriously inconsistent with putting things away in their proper place."
"So you plan to follow his advice?" Curse that amused expression in Trevan's eyes, it made her nervous when his eyes sparkled like that. "Good for you, I was beginning to think you had an inability for taking good advice."
"I suppose I will, since I don't have the faintest idea how I'm going to go about bringing anything back through 'Soul-chasing'. Miuch less someone who's literally fallen through." She glared at him, thinking that he wasn't taking the whole mess as seriously as was necessary. "What do you mean I can't take decent advice?"
"Oh nothing, just remembering your foolish persistence in all things back in our Hogwarts days." He smiled in a way he thought of as myseterious, "You've always been one who had to find out everything for yourself, whether it would be a mistake or not."
"Why would you say that?"
"I'll take an example from, say, our fourth year. All of us, your good friends, told you how unwise it would be to critique Professor Brandt's opinions on the mandatory registration of human-like species by the Ministry. Yet you still started what ended up being a rather heated debate supplanted by noisy verbal conflict, and got yourself and all students who spoke up that day into detention for impertinence in a class setting. " He chuckled slightly at the memory, "I think that was almost all of us from Ravenclaw, though, no exception for yours truly. We're not so much wise as prone to being strong in our own opinions sometimes."
"Oh." She sighed heavily, "He was a bigot though, for all that he knew about countercurses, he was rather narrowminded. You know very well that he personally thought of the old Cursed families as human-like creatures rather than human. Curse in this case not to be confused with the mundane sort cast by wands and spells and such."
Trevan nodded gravely, " It's what happens sometimes when some end up being different from the norm, I suppose. That's why people like your relatives don't tend to stick around in the wizarding world though, isn't it? You could even consider the Adhlar curse a rather passive one, and the supposed Leigh curse likewise. We don't really even understand how it is for those from those Cursed with things of less severe nature."
That was certainly true. In the years before their time, or even the times of their parents and grandparents there had been far more whose family lines could be considered rather chronically cursed. And not even with things that one could choose whether or not to accept, as with the Adhlar curse or even with subconcious tendencies such as with the Leigh 'curse'. The theory was that since power had a price, it was only natural that a certain percentage of wizarding families would be taxed to some extent. How some of those afflictions were passed on through heredity, was anyone's guess. Most families cursed more blatantly with a highly debilitating effect had died out in days past, with only fantastical stories told about their great powers - and the price they all inevitably paid.
Most inherited curses seemed to follow a certain pattern. Those of such an unfortunate family would be given an ability, sometimes one that couldn't be controlled, yet there would also be an unpleasant side effect to balance it out. (One should note that the Leigh family is not actually Cursed as such, the fact that they are registered to that end is because of the vague Ministry standards for determining a familial curse.)
That was what the Ministry's 'Registry of Cursed Families' had been intended for, a way to keep tabs on the most dangerous powers of the wizarding world, in lieu of the better interests of society. Although it wasn't as if the Registry ever managed to serve it's own purpose, any of the Cursed abilities that were truly dangerous were often the gift and price in and of itself, being nearly impossible to control. Others, with more passive curses like that on her own family were nowhere near foolish enough to allow outsiders to track their abilities. Still others who had never desired whatever gift their inborn curse left them with could feel nothing but shame that they were always to be considered potential criminals by their brethren and were eventually driven to leave to leave the world that could never truly trust them.
"It doesn't seem to matter, the severity of it. It's the same curse of sorts for anything that's unique in a world of the mundane." She sighed heavily, "Similar things happen to those who are more or less different, whether it be in the Muggle world or ours."
Why was she considering the wizarding world home again, when she'd been so anxious to keep her distance from it the day before? Possibly because this was a moment she felt that old comraderie with someone again, a sort of connectivity that was rare indeed. This was as close to those happy, naïve days of childhood as she could get in the present. Suddenly those joyful memories could be vibrant and alive in her mind again. When she could be discussing the ins and outs of the world with her philosophy- minded Ravenclaw friends, prominent among them the 'other' Julianne and Trevan. Trying to convince everyone else whether something being done was morally justified or not even while they couldn't possibly have a clue the real implications of that 'something'. With that 'something' usually being some controversial decision of their government. (The Ministry had a maddening love for introducing new legislation that wasn't always fair to all parties involved.)
And then Trevan had to break the mood by giving her a mock slap to the top of her head. Whether or not it was meant to be a friendly gesture, it hurt. He was no longer the small and scrawny boy Julianne had known in her fifth year at Hogwarts. Whenever the change had taken place, he was now different enough that he didn't really seem to know his own stregnth. Even such thoughts only heralded more nostalgic thoughts. In contrast to Trevan's growing taller, more muscular, and generally more attractive Julianne decided that she hadn't changed any significant amount. She wasn't much taller, hadn't really ever 'filled out', and her face had stayed much the same since her teenage years.
"Dear little Julia, you're waxing philosolphical again with the eclectic wording of basic things and such. It's quite off-putting." He was still grinning in his obstinately cheerful fashion. "You should only talk like that when you're trying to intimidate others, not when with a brotherly companion whose company you enjoy."
She returned his little 'mock slap' though she had to stand on her toes and reach out her arm a bit to get his head. It was a rather difficult movement, and admittedly she wasn't exactly strong physically, so obviously he didn't even flinch. It was all in the spirit of friendship, of course. They'd never resorted to such raucous behaviour back in their younger days, preferring to toss books and scrap parchment at each other when things got slightly testy, being the properly studious Ravenclaw children they'd been made. Julianne almost giggled out loud at the memory of how Trevan was always getting the most things thrown at him, especially in their first year when he'd easily been the most prone to joking at inoppurtune moments of all their classmates. That sort of behaviour had stopped off though, when Trevan got better at Levitation Charms with his own little twist that left all their things hanging in the air beyond their reach until Trevan was ready to forgive them.
He'd really been the most delightfully unique boy back then, although Julianne was absent for his last two years of Hogwarts schooling. While he was certainly smart and wise for his years, as was the Ravenclaw trademark, he'd had a very healthy sense of humor and never failed to draw the more introverted Julianne out of her own self-made shell. Around Trevan even she could start chattering on madly like just another teenaged girl, about anything at all.
"Whoever said I liked having you around, you silly silly. person." She smiled then, "I can't really call you a silly boy anymore, when you're so much taller than me."
"You obviously don't want to shatter my poor soul, Julia dear. I would never manage to recover from it, especially considering that you rejected me so badly back at school." Trevan winked at her, and tweaked her nose, "By jove, I don't believe I've fully recuperated from that wound to the heart quite yet. This brings back old pains, if you would believe it."
Julianne scowled at him, or rather, she tried to, "What sort of nonsense have you taken to spouting, Leigh? I never rejected you back then, you were always after one of the other girls." She tried making her expression thoughtful, as if she were trying to remember something, "Who was it again? Marie Beckett? Kathy Lonigan?"
Now he put his hands over his heart, as if she'd fired an arrow or bullet into him, "You would me deep, Adhlar. Despite my other dalliances and flirtatious nature, you know very well I always had my mind set on you."
She sighed, shaking her head, "What should I do with you, hopeless romantic? Or should I call up Diane Winston from Gryffindor? As I recall it, you fancied her for the longest time back when we were in third year. Provided I don't discover the whereabouts of Eithine Eoghan, Hufflepuff prefect of our day, first though, because she's the one you went to that positively boring Yule Ball with. "
- - -
Author's Notes : Thanks to all reviewers once again, especially Lily, and no Harry most likely won't appear except for perhaps a small bit-part after the resurrection of Sirius. (It's not technically a resurrection, though, for I hold with the belief that whatever happened to Sirius of the Potter- verse, it's not death in it's usual form.
His reaction will be a very difficult thing to write, although I do have an explanation for why even the wisest of people (Dumbledore) have insisted he is quite conclusively dead. Basically, to prevent the instillation of false hope, which hurts more than it can help. Especially since the whole soul- chasing thing is a matter of will that can not be guaranteed for something so unique as a physical extraction as well as pulling the 'spirit' or 'soul' back.
Of course, I shall leave you with the usual request for reviews to feed my growing ego-monster. Because reviews are nice to receive, no matter what their nature.
- - -
Part 3
Explanations Long Overdue
- - -
She stepped into a drawing room on the first floor, frowning at the horrid tapestry that almost entirely covered one wall. A family tree of "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" all the way from what seemed to be the Middle Ages except for a few burnt holes here and there where certain names seemed to have once been. Oh, so they were one of those pure- blood crazed families. The Adhlar family had an extensive family tree somewhere back at her paternal great-grandfather's manor but it wasn't very well-maintained; filled with blank spaces where relatives had run off to integrate themselves into the Muggle work. Although no one could really consider the Adhlars a pure-blooded family since they did usually get married to Muggle-born witches and wizards to whom the stigma of cursed blood was not as much of a deterrent. The last family patriarch who'd given a care to things such as maintaining the purity of Adhlar blood had died more than sixty years before her father's time. "Toujours Pur", was written under it's heading, whatever that meant. Was it Latin? Or French? The rather tarnished gold thread of the tapestry still held a rather sinister glint to her eyes.
How quaint, she thought to herself. Another reminder of the life she was still trying with little success to serperate herself from. Staying here with people banging in and out at all hours for the last few days didn't leave her in the most generous of moods. She would be especially agitated when she thought of the state her small but carefully kept garden would be in. Weeds tended to sprout up like mad in the summertime.
There wasn't a single Adhlar to be seen anywhere on the Black family tree though. More respectable wizarding families tended to stay far away from families known to be cursed as far as suitable matches for their children went. Adhlars especially, even if their work was to prevent death in those on the brink, were probably on balance with Thestrals or Grims as far as reputation for bad luck went. Considering what tended to happen to them after they used their gifts, it was obvious why. The idea that their spouse and children would lose both sanity and health if they used their birthright wasn't an easy idea for anyone to swallow. Ah, there was Dumbledore, sitting in a ratty old green-upholstered armchair in the corner, near an old scratched-up writing desk.
"Good day, Miss Adhlar. sherbert lemon?" Yes, it was definitely Albus Dumbledore, but looking a bit less exhausted than he had four days ago.
Julianne glared at it with obvious suspicion bordering on hostility, remembering the nosebleed incident from three days before. After Fred and George Weasley's 'Nosebleed Nougat', she had as a matter of course decided to stay far away from all sweets offered to her by any known witch or wizard.
"Don't worry, it's just a Muggle candy that I happen to be quite partial to, and not one of the Weasley twins' delightful creations." He said the last bit with what seemed to be sincerity, and with a twinkle in his eye.
"Alright then." She took it and placed it in her mouth, though she braced herself, still half-expecting to suddenly be covered in boils or something of the sort, though she took some comfort in the fact that he seemed to be eating one also. (Could that be a dependable indication for the safety of the lemon drop though?)
"I'm guessing you have many questions that you'd like to ask. I'll do my sincere best to answer as many as I can. However, you must forgive me if there are some things that cannot be disclosed to you yet." That grave expression on his face from four days ago had returned.
She nodded, "I understand. It's already apparent that many things have happened since I left."
"I suppose I have to start with telling you that Sirius Black is, despite all the Ministry's claims, an innocent man."
- - -
"So, what did our old Headmaster deign to explain to you?" Trevan Leigh leaned against the wall lazily, "Enough for you to make a decision?"
She looked him in the eye, and gave him a dirty look. Brown eyes to gray, those brown eyes narrowing even more as she appraised him up and down. Trevan's already broad grin grew wider as Julianne stayed completely silent.
He was perfectly aware he didn't look like he usually did. As a result of being set to watch a wizard who lived among rather odd Muggles, Trevan had decided that the best way to blend in and not be noticed was to look just like those decidedly odd Muggles. The last time Trevan had come by to Number 12, he'd been the very picture of the standard wizard. Dark robes in a sedate black over collared shirt and slacks, with his somwhat long sandy blond hair tied back neatly, and a pair of reading glasses had completed the mature businesslike appearance he generally adopted. Now he'd thrown that dressing style entirely out through the window, and looked significantly different. His hair was streaked with red and a part of it was combed over the left side of his face. He wore closely cut Muggle clothing and an oversurfeit of tasteless, blocky jewelry.
"First thing, I don't believe you quite got the teenage pseudo-punk image down right." She said cooly, "But you're right, he didn't tell me much, just that it was potentially dangerous if too much of what was going on managed to leak out."
"Nothing you couldn't conclude reasonably well on your own?" He inquired, taking the oppurtunity to ruffle her hair as he drew closer to her, "I'd guess that you'd rather be told more anyway."
"He did imply that whatever was being done by the people here, it wasn't with the full cooperation of the Ministry." She busied herself with trying to keep his hand off the top of her head. "And that Sirius Black was innocent and quite important to someone whose had it worse than anyone deserves."
"Oh. Harry Potter?" It was hard to sound nonchalant about a child who'd been touted as a hero during her last days in the wizarding world, Julianne still thought of him as the baby mentioned as being the downfall of He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named, and not as whatever person he might have grown up into by now.
"Yes, he focused a bit on the fact that this wasn't all that important, my decision on it, I mean to the outcome of the current conflict with You- Know-Who, but that the people this would matter most to deserve better than life's thrown at them, even if it isn't fully my responsibility." Confident that her shoulder-length dark hair was once again lying flat, she folded her arms and sighed, "But I suppose because of my own foolishness, I was going to accept with or without knowing that."
Trevan nodded slowly, as if agreeing, "If it counts for anything, I think that's the right decision. Harry, for all that he seems to be a bit bratty sometimes, is someone whose been faced with more than anyone his age should have to deal with. If you succeed, I know it'd at least help allay his guilt that Sirius fell through the Veil while trying to save him."
"It does count to me." She smiled slightly, but if past experience was anything to go on, he was sure it was a 'true' smile. "Although I don't know if it's possible, and certainly don't know how to go about it."
Both started at the sound of the drawing room door opening. It was only Dumbledore, though. Of course, Trevan gave himself a mental slap, he did have to come out here sometime and it seemed that Apparition just wasn't done while within Number 12 Grimmauld Place. (Supposedly Apparition had initally been strongly discouraged as one never knew when the Ministry might be monitering it, and even now that they were not as openly defying the Ministry. Force of habit was a difficult thing to break out of.)
Still, it was good to see that their leader of sorts was looking far better than he had for a while. The events of the many past months, and indeed ever since Voldemort first appeared so many years ago, had taken a severe toll on the Order's leader. Age was a very undefined thing for those of wizarding blood. One's appearance and physical condition were more related to the amount of strain they placed on themselves than anything else. At more than a century old, Dumbledore had probably done enough just in the past fifteen years or so for someone twice that age. Yet, Trevan had to hand it to the man, for all that he maintained a long white hair and a beard he usually looked quite sprightly, for all that he must have uncountable amounts of important things always on his mind. There were definitely many good reasons why the Dark Lord feared Dumbledore.
"If I may give some advice as your past headmaster." His eyes had that familiar twinkle in them. "I would highly recommend searching out the old family journals kept at Adhlar manor. Some of your ancestors kept very meticulous records of when and how they used the Adhlar gift." As he walked down the hall, he added, "Although searching them out might not be an easy task."
Trevan smiled broadly at Julianne, "Sounds like we're on for a sort of vacation trip then. The people I'd been shadowing were getting to be such a bore. What's with the long face?"
"Who said you were coming anyway? It was only a suggestion." Then she frowned slightly more, "Although if I want to try it, he's correct that it'll be a difficult task."
"How so? You just breeze in to the family library, get the books and come out, sounds very simple and straightforward to me."
- - -
Julianne scowled rather unpleasantly at nothing in paticular while thinking of the old house that was generally designated 'Adhlar manor' simply because since a long ago family patriarch had bought it, it'd been shunted down through the family to any Adhlar offshoot who would take it. (Accepting the house pretty much meant one was still on decent terms with the wizarding world, or wanted to live the life of a recluse. It was out in the middle of nowhere, covered thoroughly with every spell-based protection ever devised, and generally not convenient for those attempting to live a more Muggle-like lifestyle.)
It had been uninhabited and generally gathering dust since her father and mother had upped and finally left the wizarding world ten years ago, a short five years after their daughter had turned her back on aforementioned world. Ten years worth of dust wouldn't make searching out 'old family journals' a very pleasant task. Also, her both of her parents had been rather indecisive in their decorating and arranging, and it was as good as anyone's guess where those 'old family journals' would be.
"I don't think it will be quite that simple." Julianne muttered under her breath, "Mother and father dear were notoriously inconsistent with putting things away in their proper place."
"So you plan to follow his advice?" Curse that amused expression in Trevan's eyes, it made her nervous when his eyes sparkled like that. "Good for you, I was beginning to think you had an inability for taking good advice."
"I suppose I will, since I don't have the faintest idea how I'm going to go about bringing anything back through 'Soul-chasing'. Miuch less someone who's literally fallen through." She glared at him, thinking that he wasn't taking the whole mess as seriously as was necessary. "What do you mean I can't take decent advice?"
"Oh nothing, just remembering your foolish persistence in all things back in our Hogwarts days." He smiled in a way he thought of as myseterious, "You've always been one who had to find out everything for yourself, whether it would be a mistake or not."
"Why would you say that?"
"I'll take an example from, say, our fourth year. All of us, your good friends, told you how unwise it would be to critique Professor Brandt's opinions on the mandatory registration of human-like species by the Ministry. Yet you still started what ended up being a rather heated debate supplanted by noisy verbal conflict, and got yourself and all students who spoke up that day into detention for impertinence in a class setting. " He chuckled slightly at the memory, "I think that was almost all of us from Ravenclaw, though, no exception for yours truly. We're not so much wise as prone to being strong in our own opinions sometimes."
"Oh." She sighed heavily, "He was a bigot though, for all that he knew about countercurses, he was rather narrowminded. You know very well that he personally thought of the old Cursed families as human-like creatures rather than human. Curse in this case not to be confused with the mundane sort cast by wands and spells and such."
Trevan nodded gravely, " It's what happens sometimes when some end up being different from the norm, I suppose. That's why people like your relatives don't tend to stick around in the wizarding world though, isn't it? You could even consider the Adhlar curse a rather passive one, and the supposed Leigh curse likewise. We don't really even understand how it is for those from those Cursed with things of less severe nature."
That was certainly true. In the years before their time, or even the times of their parents and grandparents there had been far more whose family lines could be considered rather chronically cursed. And not even with things that one could choose whether or not to accept, as with the Adhlar curse or even with subconcious tendencies such as with the Leigh 'curse'. The theory was that since power had a price, it was only natural that a certain percentage of wizarding families would be taxed to some extent. How some of those afflictions were passed on through heredity, was anyone's guess. Most families cursed more blatantly with a highly debilitating effect had died out in days past, with only fantastical stories told about their great powers - and the price they all inevitably paid.
Most inherited curses seemed to follow a certain pattern. Those of such an unfortunate family would be given an ability, sometimes one that couldn't be controlled, yet there would also be an unpleasant side effect to balance it out. (One should note that the Leigh family is not actually Cursed as such, the fact that they are registered to that end is because of the vague Ministry standards for determining a familial curse.)
That was what the Ministry's 'Registry of Cursed Families' had been intended for, a way to keep tabs on the most dangerous powers of the wizarding world, in lieu of the better interests of society. Although it wasn't as if the Registry ever managed to serve it's own purpose, any of the Cursed abilities that were truly dangerous were often the gift and price in and of itself, being nearly impossible to control. Others, with more passive curses like that on her own family were nowhere near foolish enough to allow outsiders to track their abilities. Still others who had never desired whatever gift their inborn curse left them with could feel nothing but shame that they were always to be considered potential criminals by their brethren and were eventually driven to leave to leave the world that could never truly trust them.
"It doesn't seem to matter, the severity of it. It's the same curse of sorts for anything that's unique in a world of the mundane." She sighed heavily, "Similar things happen to those who are more or less different, whether it be in the Muggle world or ours."
Why was she considering the wizarding world home again, when she'd been so anxious to keep her distance from it the day before? Possibly because this was a moment she felt that old comraderie with someone again, a sort of connectivity that was rare indeed. This was as close to those happy, naïve days of childhood as she could get in the present. Suddenly those joyful memories could be vibrant and alive in her mind again. When she could be discussing the ins and outs of the world with her philosophy- minded Ravenclaw friends, prominent among them the 'other' Julianne and Trevan. Trying to convince everyone else whether something being done was morally justified or not even while they couldn't possibly have a clue the real implications of that 'something'. With that 'something' usually being some controversial decision of their government. (The Ministry had a maddening love for introducing new legislation that wasn't always fair to all parties involved.)
And then Trevan had to break the mood by giving her a mock slap to the top of her head. Whether or not it was meant to be a friendly gesture, it hurt. He was no longer the small and scrawny boy Julianne had known in her fifth year at Hogwarts. Whenever the change had taken place, he was now different enough that he didn't really seem to know his own stregnth. Even such thoughts only heralded more nostalgic thoughts. In contrast to Trevan's growing taller, more muscular, and generally more attractive Julianne decided that she hadn't changed any significant amount. She wasn't much taller, hadn't really ever 'filled out', and her face had stayed much the same since her teenage years.
"Dear little Julia, you're waxing philosolphical again with the eclectic wording of basic things and such. It's quite off-putting." He was still grinning in his obstinately cheerful fashion. "You should only talk like that when you're trying to intimidate others, not when with a brotherly companion whose company you enjoy."
She returned his little 'mock slap' though she had to stand on her toes and reach out her arm a bit to get his head. It was a rather difficult movement, and admittedly she wasn't exactly strong physically, so obviously he didn't even flinch. It was all in the spirit of friendship, of course. They'd never resorted to such raucous behaviour back in their younger days, preferring to toss books and scrap parchment at each other when things got slightly testy, being the properly studious Ravenclaw children they'd been made. Julianne almost giggled out loud at the memory of how Trevan was always getting the most things thrown at him, especially in their first year when he'd easily been the most prone to joking at inoppurtune moments of all their classmates. That sort of behaviour had stopped off though, when Trevan got better at Levitation Charms with his own little twist that left all their things hanging in the air beyond their reach until Trevan was ready to forgive them.
He'd really been the most delightfully unique boy back then, although Julianne was absent for his last two years of Hogwarts schooling. While he was certainly smart and wise for his years, as was the Ravenclaw trademark, he'd had a very healthy sense of humor and never failed to draw the more introverted Julianne out of her own self-made shell. Around Trevan even she could start chattering on madly like just another teenaged girl, about anything at all.
"Whoever said I liked having you around, you silly silly. person." She smiled then, "I can't really call you a silly boy anymore, when you're so much taller than me."
"You obviously don't want to shatter my poor soul, Julia dear. I would never manage to recover from it, especially considering that you rejected me so badly back at school." Trevan winked at her, and tweaked her nose, "By jove, I don't believe I've fully recuperated from that wound to the heart quite yet. This brings back old pains, if you would believe it."
Julianne scowled at him, or rather, she tried to, "What sort of nonsense have you taken to spouting, Leigh? I never rejected you back then, you were always after one of the other girls." She tried making her expression thoughtful, as if she were trying to remember something, "Who was it again? Marie Beckett? Kathy Lonigan?"
Now he put his hands over his heart, as if she'd fired an arrow or bullet into him, "You would me deep, Adhlar. Despite my other dalliances and flirtatious nature, you know very well I always had my mind set on you."
She sighed, shaking her head, "What should I do with you, hopeless romantic? Or should I call up Diane Winston from Gryffindor? As I recall it, you fancied her for the longest time back when we were in third year. Provided I don't discover the whereabouts of Eithine Eoghan, Hufflepuff prefect of our day, first though, because she's the one you went to that positively boring Yule Ball with. "
- - -
Author's Notes : Thanks to all reviewers once again, especially Lily, and no Harry most likely won't appear except for perhaps a small bit-part after the resurrection of Sirius. (It's not technically a resurrection, though, for I hold with the belief that whatever happened to Sirius of the Potter- verse, it's not death in it's usual form.
His reaction will be a very difficult thing to write, although I do have an explanation for why even the wisest of people (Dumbledore) have insisted he is quite conclusively dead. Basically, to prevent the instillation of false hope, which hurts more than it can help. Especially since the whole soul- chasing thing is a matter of will that can not be guaranteed for something so unique as a physical extraction as well as pulling the 'spirit' or 'soul' back.
Of course, I shall leave you with the usual request for reviews to feed my growing ego-monster. Because reviews are nice to receive, no matter what their nature.