On A Clear Day You Can See Forever
Ok, yeah so I stole the title from a Barbara Streisand movie… I liked it! I don't own that, I can only wish I owned my sexy Slytherin man, and I definitely don't own anyone else in this story except, well, me! Enjoy!
P.S. I really hate this point of view, but I thought it would be a better way to start this story, so for this chapter and the next ONLY I will use it. After that I promise to go back to regular 3rd person.
The Leaky Cauldron
I'm a smoker. I sort of just became one, by accident. I don't think many people mean to get addicted, it just happens. And once you start, it really is damned hard to stop. The nicotine crawls in your lungs, but it's a familiar thing. When you exhale slowly, lazily, the smoke lingers in front of you, a cloud of vapor. It can be incredibly beautiful on a clear, starry night. However, on a muggy day in London, the smoke just seems to blend in with the scenery.
I was walking along that day, enjoying the view of an ordinary, and in fact quite dreary, English city. See, originally I'm from the United States. I guess that automatically classifies me as poorly bred, uncouth, and a complete heathen. Maybe I am, sometimes. But that's not really me. I'm a bookworm, by nature. I love to read. I'll read almost any book you place in front of me, but that's beside the point. I also love to write, and when I say that I don't just mean sappy poetry. I like to write short stories, I like to write prose, and occasionally my pen produces a half-decent poem, worthy to be read by others. I also like music, and almost any kind, at that. So, even if I am from the U.S., it doesn't mean that I can't have taste in some matters.
As I was saying, I was walking along on this dreary, typically dismal London day when I passed a bookstore. I considered going inside, but the purpose of my trip was to get away from my books for just a little while. It was just an ordinary bookstore, nothing unusual about it all. Down a little further there was a record store, as well, and that seemed perfectly ordinary to me as well. I almost passed by when something odd, and completely out of the ordinary, happened. At one glance I saw only the book and record stores, and suddenly there was another entrance there. It hadn't been there before, I was sure. I looked away, thinking it was a figment of my well-endowed imagination. When I looked back it was still there. The Leaky Cauldron. What kind of a name is that? I wondered. There weren't many more exciting things to do at this time of day, and this place looked very intriguing, if a little worn down.
I headed to the entrance, but when as I looked around me, it seemed as if I was the only one who could see this place. That wasn't right. I took another glance at the passersby. No one looked at The Leaky Cauldron, or even in my direction. It was as if I didn't even exist. How odd.
I stepped inside to find myself surrounded by many people, who all looked normal enough. But… they were all wearing robes. I don't mean the kind you wear around your house; I mean magical, mythical type robes. Was this a meeting of some kind of club? But what club would wear robes such as these? I stared in wonder at the people when I heard someone calling me. At least I presumed they meant me.
"Miss! Is there anything I can get for you today? Miss?"
I looked in the direction of the voice and found it came from a man behind the bar. I walked over and sat down in front of him, not knowing what to say. The emotions running across my face must have been quite evident, for the barkeeper lowered his tone to talk to me some more.
"Miss, is there anything I can help you with today? Are you in need of a drink?"
I looked up at him, wondering if I even looked old enough for a drink. After all, I had only just turned 20 the previous summer. In London, I supposed, that was well past the legal limit. I sighed, and started to speak.
"You'll have to excuse me, something is just a little odd about today. Perhaps you can help me out a bit though. What is this place?" Before he could answer I continued talking. "I mean, I saw the sign outside, and came in, but it was like no one else could see the entrance, or even the building at all. And everyone in here is wearing a robe. Why is that?" Finally I paused, giving the man a chance to answer.
"You… you don't know what this place is?" He drifted in thought for a second. "Have you ever heard of a wizard?" He looked at me with a serious expression, but I knew he had to be joking.
"Wizards? Yeah, they're not real. They're the stuff of fairy tales. What's that to do with anything?"
He looked at me grimly. "I think I can help you. There's a man you might like to meet; his name's Albus Dumbledore. A very intelligent man, he is, and he may just be able to help you with this predicament."
What kind of a name was Albus Dumbledore? Out loud I asked, "Predicament?" He looked at me again with the serious stare.
"Well, it's not as bad as all that, but I think he might be able to explain a thing or two to you about this place. And a great many more things as well, I expect. I could owl him, but I suppose using the Floo is faster. Tell you what, I'll set you up with a nice glass of wine, and a room to keep you away from all this noise until he can get here. How does that sound?"
I looked at him suspiciously. Why did he want to put me in a room by myself, and with a glass of wine, no less. He seemed to have understood what I was thinking.
"Oh no, Miss. I have nothing less than the best of intentions, but if you wait down here, things might become a great deal more confusing. A room to yourself may help you to sort out your mind a bit. I swear on my mother's honor that no harm will come to you while you're in the Leaky Cauldron. My name's Tom, by the way."
"I'm Rhiannon," I said warily. This was all too weird. "You wouldn't happen to have any books I could read, if this is going to take a while?"
He answered both my questions at once. "Well, I have a room that'll keep you occupied until Albus can manage to get himself away from the school for a bit. Follow me, Miss Rhiannon."
He walked out from behind the bar, and motioned for me to follow him. I did so, with some hesitation. We went up just one flight of creaky wooden steps, and then we were in a dimly lit passageway. He stopped in front of a room with the number 13 emblazoned on it. He opened it, and ushered me through.
At any other time this room would have been a dream come true, but at the moment I was still very wary of my surroundings. The small room had one bed, a night stand, another door (which I presumed led to the bathroom), and bookcases lining the walls, and stuffed with books of all shapes and sizes. I turned to thank Tom, but he was already gone.
I closed the door and wondered where to start first. I decided that if I was to meet this Albus Dumbledore person I should perhaps freshen up a bit. I headed to the other door, which did indeed lead to a bathroom, and poked my head in cautiously. It looked normal, so I stepped in. After splashing some water on my face, and pulling my hair back in a loose ponytail I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
"Seems to me that your day could've been a lot worse."
I jumped. "Who's there?" The voice had sounded from nowhere in particular. I looked back out into the main room, but no one was there. "Hello?" I tried again.
"Deary, what are you so afraid of? Your reflection can't possibly be that scary."
My reflection? The mirror… I looked into it once again. I saw only myself, but I heard the voice again.
"What's your problem? Every witch has a mirror."
"First off, witches aren't real. Second, mirrors definitely do not talk."
"Well then, it seems you're talking to yourself."
"No I'm… Damn it. Ok, so how is it that you're a mirror, and I'm talking to you?"
"Because you're a witch."
"I am not a witch!" My mind registered a creak from the main room, but I didn't pay attention until I heard another voice.
"I'm afraid, Miss Fraser, that you are indeed a witch."