I did write Harry over the summer, but I didn't get anything back until the very end. Apparently, Nott had been forced to get his parents involved when he grew very worried. The Dursleys had locked Harry away, and he hadn't been receiving any letters. I took him at his word. My book shopping was more annoying than anything. Apparently Gilderoy Lockhart was the new Defense professor, and he seemed extremely narcissistic. I didn't bother reading through them after discovering they were all about how great he was, and didn't once discuss a defensive spell.
My father immediately knew I'd be skipping that class, and despite his disapproval, he didn't make an attempt to convince me otherwise. Even he realized the class would be insufferable to me. He made a point to give me fifth and sixth year Potions books as well, likely to give me something more challenging to work on in class. I think he just wanted me to stop working on par with my year mates. Reading through the Charms book had me wishing the O.W.L.S were over already, despite the two years I had left.
I was a bit more confident in my occlumency shields by the end of the summer as well. I was able to look my father in the eye more often, though he never attempted to use legilimency on me. The thought of finally knowing what happened to me that night was both exciting and nauseating. I'd also managed to translate the spells we'd decided I would work on with some help from my new Ancient Runes book, and I was very excited to try them.
After explaining to him the pain it caused for me to use those ancient spells, my father immediately rushed me off to St Mungo's for tests. Adrian and Graham each managed to visit me once, but their parents didn't give them more than that. The mediwitches had no idea where to start after I explained the problem to them, but eventually they had me demonstrate two similar spells. I chose to compare the first spell I learned to the knockback jinx this time, as they were far closer than the levitation spell. The witches scanned me as I performed the knockback jinx, and then again when I performed the – supposedly - Dragonian version.
When I had to sit down clutching my wand arm tightly from the pain the witches seemed utterly fascinated by what they were seeing. After asking them what was wrong with me, their faces immediately fell into a frown. They had to apologize for forgetting that what they were looking at was happening to someone. It definitely had something to do with whatever spell had been used on me when I was three, but really all they could do was tell me what was happening. There was no known treatment for what was wrong with me. Since my magical core was entwined with my nervous system, it made my core much larger than even a well-trained and powerful wizard might have. It also meant that any damage my core suffered would cause me immense pain.
That was the chronic pain that set in when I was nine – I had finally developed my magical core enough for the damage to actually cause pain. It was also why it got worse as I got older, the more my magical core developed the more nerves that would feel the burning protests any magic use would cause. I felt it with the ancient spells because they drew on the entirety of my magical core instead of the center. Basically, it wasn't the spells, it was me.
When I asked if that could have an effect on my regular spellwork they explained that it already did. The knockback jinx didn't cause me pain, yet, but it did struggle to draw on my magic properly. They theorized that it was the same with many spells I performed. So my inability to perform a charm to save my life was actually a result of someone damaging my magical core, and not just because I sucked. It took a while for the knowledge to sink in for me, but once it did I'd asked the question.
Would it hurt for me to perform any spells eventually? They didn't sugar coat it. I would start with a stiffness or numbness. Then it would start to feel like a sting each time I performed a spell, until it escalated into pain whenever I touched my wand. Basically, my own body would turn on me if I continued to use magic. The only way a mediwitch would be able to prevent it was if they knew what was done to me. They expected I had a few years before I started to feel any effects from regular spellwork, but it didn't make the diagnosis any less heartbreaking for me.
It certainly effected my attitude when I got home again. Not using magic wasn't an option, but using magic would likely speed up to the process of whatever was wrong with me. I was packed and ready for the express the night before I had to leave for school again. My father was clearly concerned, I'd withdrawn from everything having to do with magic. He walked with me the whole way to the train this time, giving me a hug even in the crowd's shocked stares. I found a compartment to myself, almost hoping that I'd be left alone.
Of course, I wasn't. Adrian and Graham found me almost straight away "Vanessa, you alright? When did you get released from St. Mungo's?"
I frowned at the reminder of it before speaking "I got out a week ago." They just gave me inquisitive looks that screamed 'go on', to which I reluctantly complied "Basically, every time I perform a spell I'm causing more damage to my core. If we can't figure out what happened to me then eventually I won't be able to use magic ever again."
Graham hissed in anger while Adrian's fists clenched "Then we'll just have to dig through your brain extra hard this year."
I smiled weakly at them "Hopefully we find the right memory soon."
Despite the forlorn air that took over our compartment, we spent our time trying to cheer each other up. There was no point seething in our anger when we couldn't do anything about it at the moment. Harry popped in with Nott to talk to us for a bit, mentioning how the barrier closed on them when they tried to step through. Luckily, Nott's parents were still with them in the station and got them through in time for the train.
The feast bored me this time around, much as it used to before I had friends. I didn't sleep very well either, but that had been true for me for the past week. When our time tables were handed out Adrian and Graham grew frustrated, we had even less time for all three of us to meet this year. We quickly worked out a schedule that left us plenty of time to study as well before running off to Potions.
This year was once again with the Gryffindors – my father really had a strange enjoyment out of sticking our houses in the same class – which meant I was going to have to watch out for some level of sabotage. Gryffindors really hated me when it came to Potions. Graham gave me a knowing look when a piece of parchment was slid in front of me with a far more advanced potion than was on the board. My eyes rolled instinctively at what my father was doing, but I couldn't argue in front of the whole class. Adrian and Graham, maybe. A whole class? I'd be assigned first year level potions for months as punishment.
So I obliged, and worked through the wound cleaning potion while Graham struggled with his wit-sharpening potion. Every so often I would pipe in and give him some help, to which he was extremely grateful. Once the class was over and we were packing up my father called me over to him. I, of course, paled at the news that I was to be meeting with the headmaster that night, just before dinner. Apparently, he wanted to be a bit more involved in my life now that I can fully understand what danger people will pose to my brother. Even my father rolled his eyes at that, but it was the headmaster so I would be going.
I spent the rest of the day in panic. Graham and Adrian tried to calm me down, but they were just as scared for me. If Dumbledore got a single glance at the conclusions I'd come to it was over. Graham and Adrian might have their memories erased, or they could be threatened, or he could threaten my father. I was terrified. The little control I normally had in Charms disappeared as a result, and Flitwick ended up telling me to just revise the theory and leave my wand in my pocket. It was absolutely embarrassing.
Not enough to stop the panic, of course. Graham and Adrian escorted me to the headmaster's office, trying to help me calm down last minute. None of us were sure it worked, but I had to go in regardless. I hesitantly opened the door after I heard a soft 'come in.' I'd seen the office before I was a student once, tagging along and hiding behind my father's robes. Even with him as a shield my legs were shaking that time, and it took a great effort to keep them from shaking now. When I was little he was just the man from my nightmares, now he was the man who wanted to steal my identity from me. And I knew just how big the power gap between us was this time around. I could blow up the tower with accidental magic in my fear, he'd still have me beat.
I made sure to avoid eye contact as I made my way to the empty chair in front of his desk "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"
He leaned forward, plucking a candy from a bowl to his right "Lemon drop?" I shook my head, clenching my hands in my robe as he continued "Yes, I wanted to discuss matters involving your brother." He paused, likely waiting for my eyes to meet his, but I wouldn't. I made a point to look around the office, hoping it would fool him despite the odds "Harry ended the year in quite a difficult situation last term. I was hoping with him in the same house as you that you would be more involved with his life than you have been."
I grimaced, looking down at my hands. I should be the one who decides how I spend my time. Like I would say that to Albus Dumbledore. Instead, the words from my mouth were "With all due respect, sir, but Harry has no idea who I am. I'm just an older student from his house to him."
I couldn't see his face to even get a hint as to what he was thinking, but his voice didn't change "Ah, but you managed to influence him enough to get him to join Slytherin house. I have no doubt that you can get closer to him. After all, with how young he is, he would need an older student's help to fight off dark wizards who want him dead. Who better than his older sister?"
I could feel the outrage bubbling to the surface. The audacity of this man. Slowly, I took a deep breath, letting it out as quietly as I could "I suppose I can't argue with that. I certainly don't want Harry hurt."
"Good, then you'll make more of an effort to get close to Harry?" I nodded, standing up the second he gave me a hint of a dismissal "Very well, off to dinner you go. I'm sure you're eager to fill your stomach."
I flew down the stairs after the door shut behind me, practically barreling over Adrian in my haste. I couldn't go to the Great Hall this time, I was close to tears "Kitchens!" was all my friends got as I stormed my way down to the entrance to the kitchens. The house elves were never angry when someone came down there, but they weren't ever excited by it either.
Graham went to ask the house elves for our meals while Adrian sat down across from me at a spare table "What happened?"
My frown just grew deeper "He wants me to get closer to Harry. Practically asked me to sacrifice myself for him if the need should arise! As if my life doesn't matter." Graham sat down with us, placing a plate in front of me while two floated behind him. Before I took my first bite I spoke "We need to start looking for that memory tonight."
Adrian choked "Are you sure?"
I nodded "I need to know, and soon. If he's asking this of me now, what do you think comes next?"
They only gave me grim nods. I wasn't desperate, not yet. But they knew what could happen if I was. They also wanted to see me free to be who I am. There was no judgement from them, no questioning if Dumbledore was really that bad, no telling me to be patient. Just support, and the willingness to do what needed to be done. We finished eating quickly, then made our way up to the Room of Requirement. Graham was the better Legilimens, so he was the first to take a crack at my head. Normally I would fight him, but that wasn't the goal today.
My mindscape was eerily similar to Hogwarts, and every time we took a deeper look at it, it just got more realistic. I assumed it had a lot to do with the fact that I spent more of my life in the castle than I did at Spinner's End. Graham appeared next to me in the entrance hall of my mind, and we started floating along like ghosts. There were flashes of different memories as we walked along, the classrooms holding different categories. Spinner's End, Harry, Adrian, Graham, Dad. Some things, like every memory pertaining to potions, were split into smaller categories like dangerous, good, and happy.
We weren't completely sure where to look, but nothing from before the night Lily and James Potter were murdered could be found. Once the classrooms turned up without anything we started searching in common rooms, the library, the Great Hall. But still, nothing. The hospital wing led to my memories of St. Mungo's when I was nine, and instinctively I kicked Graham out of my head.
It took a moment to process that the heavy breathing was coming from me, and not Graham – though he did look worn out. My fists clenched as more tears welled in my eyes "I just don't get where it could be."
Adrian placed a hand on my shoulder as Graham spoke "This is the first time we've strolled through your head instead of seeing if you could block me out. You really have spent most of your life in this castle, haven't you?"
Adrian frowned "Wait, her mindscape actually looks like the castle?"
"Yeah, it's a little creepy if I'm honest. Her memories are bundled into classrooms with the weirdest categorizations."
He sighed, shaking his head "Alright, Graham take a breather. Vanessa, you okay to start again?"
I took a deep breath before nodding, standing shakily to meet his eye "Let's do this."
Adrian had far less control entering my mind. I felt the door of the entrance hall splinter a bit, cringing at his manifestation. He had the decency to look apologetic, but we hadn't quite gotten to the point where he could talk to me while in my head. He needed a lot more focus for this. Instead of him letting me lead him past what Graham and I had searched, however, he dragged me out of the doors of the entrance hall and straight out to the grounds. Or what should have been the grounds.
Instead it looked more like a wasteland, and turning back to look at the castle revealed something far different than Hogwarts. It was a house. Two stories, and only vaguely, vaguely, familiar. And suddenly it was very easy to understand why I couldn't find those memories. My mindscape wasn't Hogwarts – it was a fortress built to lock out my trauma. All of it. And by the looks of the wasteland in front of me, there was a lot of it for us to sift through. I wasn't going to be finding that memory tonight. Not on my life. I'd be lucky if I found it this year.
Adrian pulled out of my head, eyes wide as I stumbled back to the wall behind me. Neither of us were sure what to do with what we'd found. I hissed in frustration at the one truth I didn't want to admit to "It's time to involve my father."
Graham lurched to his feet "What? What did you find? Was it the memory?"
Adrian and I both shook our heads "Do you remember what we read in those books early on? How every mindscape has a foundation that it's built off of?"
He nodded "Yeah, the foundation for yours is Hogwarts."
"No, it's not." His brow furrowed at my response, so I recited the passage I was referring to the best I could "The foundation a mindscape is built off of is a goal set by the conscious mind. This goal can have come from early childhood dreams, or familial love, or even trauma the conscious suffers. The foundation most often forms by a conscious choice in the beginning stages of occlumency, but can sometimes form unconsciously when one develops a resolve for a goal that means everything to them."
He cocked his head curiously "So your goal revolves around Hogwarts?"
Adrian had to choke back a cynical laugh "No, Hogwarts is the defense from the truth of her goal."
The sob wrenched through me before I could stop it. Graham suddenly looked panicked "What? What truth? Vanessa, why are you crying? What's wrong?"
I curled in on myself, hoping desperately for the tears to stop but they just kept coming. Adrian spoke for me "If you exit the castle from the entrance hall, it's a wasteland. Her mindscape is chaos if you leave the shelter of Hogwarts - the shelter of what her life became after everything in her life was wrong. It's not a castle, it's some house. Probably the one the Potter's lived in. And there are memories scattered everywhere. I doubt they're good either. I'd bet my life that every memory outside of those walls is one she wanted to forget."
Another sob broke through, because this was a mess we couldn't fix alone, and I spoke "We have to go to my father. I've just realized what my mindscape's foundation is and it has me in te-ars. We can't sift through this alone, I'll break before Halloween if we try."
Graham frowned, looking between me and Adrian "What is its foundation?"
This time it was a bitter laugh that escaped me "To never be sad again. I made it my goal when I was given to my father. That has to be when, because the walls have been building around memories after that. And there was a convenient little door to chuck the particularly bad ones out. The whims of a three year old girl sure do cause a lot of trouble."
We made a plan to go to my father the next night. For now, it was time to go to bed and get some rest. I took the opportunity to stroll through the castle part of my mindscape. I couldn't sift through the wasteland alone, but I did need everything pertaining to why we've been learning occlumency and Dumbledore out of his sight. I made sure the door that took those memories was my mind's Room of Requirement, one that really wouldn't be worth looking at to my father, when he had bigger problems to deal with. Once I was satisfied I curled up into my bed, hoping things didn't go so badly the next day.
