Something Like the Truth

Book One: How to Disappear Completely

Chapter 3: Crash landing, literally

Hours had passed before we reached the end of the lake, painted dark blue by the fall of night. A castle was growing in the distance, stretching before our very eyes. From such a width away it looked as if it were floating on its own, like it was magic. As we grew closer, ever inch took my breath away. By the range of mountains surrounding the estate, it looked safe and suspended from time. It strikes me as something you would find in a fairy tale, a beige stone castle that rested upon a rocky ledge that rose several feet above the sea of abyss. The faint glow of candles illuminated the windows and accented its great structure by casting off long, twining shadows across its nooks and cranes. The pointed domes that rose from the very chambers seemed to pierce the clouded sky themselves. My legs itched to explore the magnificent structure laid before me.

"Welcome home," Ron announced with a jubilant smile towards their safe journey. The car, however, seemed to have other things on its mind for it sputtered and jerked about causing a panic stricken Ron to look down upon the wheel in disbelieve. His grip tightened as he made out an upcoming wall that didn't exactly look inviting to land into. The car swayed under his grip before loosing control and turning down into a nose dive. It was beautiful from the start. I'm sure the judges would have presented nines across the board except for the one eight, compliments of Russia. It soon became jerking as it veered towards the left and spun out of control. At least this time Harry didn't feel obligated to open his car door this time. He did however scream "up" several times towards the frantic Ron who threw back his own screams of "I'm trying." Perhaps if I was not in a life threatening moment I would have laughed upon the resemblance they shared with a certain favorite American couple, Ricky and Lucy.

More screams filled the interior of the car as I sat in a state of shock in the back. My fingers took the liberty to define the laws of Chemistry as well as Biology (when they decide to break the rules they refused to mess around) and entwined themselves with the upholstery of the car. I could feel the stitching loosing under my grasp, revealing the malleable foam that tickled the very tips of my fingers.

Harry made a lunge for the gear shift and tried to yank it free from its jammed position. Ron clawed his way towards it as well and with the help from both boys, it relented into a sinking position that caused the car to glide straight ahead instead of its usual serpentine pattern.

The rest seemed to move so fast. Faint images were all that I could remember as they embedded themselves into my mind one after the other. A tree followed by Harry's yell, Ron's screams of "stop", the snapping sound of wood, more screams, a blue haze that was faintly lighter than the night, and a crash. From all of this I have gathered that we hit a tree, much against Harry's will, and Ron broke his wand in the process. The car teetered along the top knob of the tree, long enough for us to exhale before it sank down, being sure to snap any branches in its way, until it rested upon a lower ledge.

It was at this particular moment that Ron's gaze was free to fall upon the broken remains of his wand. It was clear from where he used excess force against the steering wheel for it hung limp, almost tired from its battle. The last strand of bark was the only thing standing in the way of a single stick of wood and two pieces. "My wand," Ron managed to babble out with a shrieking octave that could have made dogs barked. "Look at my wand." His tone was disbelieving as he shook the remainders of his wand, as if to highlight his point.

Harry's eyes, glazed over from the last bit of adrenalin, scanned over Ron's wand before looking at him directly with an exasperated look. "Be thankful it's not your neck."

"We may have bigger problems," I felt the need to interrupt from what I saw moving beyond the plastic coated windows.

This gained the boys immediate attention as something caused the car to rock uncontrollably and place the horrible sinking suspicion upon the pit of our stomachs that led us to believe that this was far from over. "What's happening?" Ron shrieked out, barley understandable. I became lost in his translation wondering if he was truly speaking English or some British tongue that I never heard before.

It was Harry's voice that brought me back to the pressing matter at hand. "I don't know." His voice remained at its normal pitch, unlike his friends. However, panic was etched into his final word as the car began to teeter again.

A low moan brought our attention towards an abnormally large branch that was heading straight towards us. Naturally there was more screams as it bashed into the hood of the car. I scrunched down lower in my seat, bringing my hands up to catch any shattered glass. The empty owl cage was pressed uncomfortably upon my side and I could feel the bitter twinge as it scratched against my bare arms. However, I was too preoccupied to notice. "What the heck kind of tree is this?" I exclaimed in exasperation only to be overshadowed as another branch made contact with the back window. I felt the light yet dangerous presence of glass rain upon my back that made me shiver uncontrollably. I constricted my movement, not particularly wanting to stumble upon any stray remains of glass. We were attacked from all ends, leaving us hopelessly clueless as to how to get out of this mess. The dinted in roof became enough for me as it sent my patience over the edge. It was apparent there was no out towards this unless we made one. "Hit the gas!" I heard my voice echo through out the car and its demanding tone sounded eccentric even to my ears. In a daze Ron obliged. The car jerked forward and from a last push from the tree, it sent the car flying down towards the ground where it laid beaten and betrayed.

Harry's voice was drowned out by the tree's moaning as well as his own hoarse tone. It sounded similar towards "move" but I couldn't be certain. Regardless, Ron pulled the car into drive and sped away at the sight of the great tree bending closer towards them. He swerved, barley missing the scattered branches and stopped just short of a courtyard. Looking back in baffled glances, we saw the tree resume its normal position. It stretched higher towards the sky, as if boasting about defending its territory from three misfortunate children. The boys shared looks of vexation as my mind wondered over what else could possibly happen at Hogwarts. Perfect timing, for the car doors swung out in annoyance as its seats hurled us several feet from the car. The trunk opened to spew our luggage across the dew misted grass. In a mocking tone it ejected two cages; each one flying into the hands of the boys as it drove off hastily, not bothering to close its trunk. Tire tracks were all that remained of the incident. We chased it towards the edge of a dark forest that looked as if it would be inhabited by all sorts of things that went bump in the night.

"Dad's going to kill me," Ron stated bleakly with a sigh. He looked towards the future in a desolate gaze as he waited for the inevitable. Something in his lingering expression told me of how often these incidents seem to occur.

"Insane." My mind finally traced upon the contents of the word as minor flashbacks played in my mind like a broken, run down projector, fixating on only one image the entire time, the car. "Absolutely insane. Do you do this all the time or only when you have guests?"

Harry chuckled and replied with a simple no as Ron stared at the edge of the forest, unmoving. "Come on," Harry announced as he tugged upon his friend's sleeve, "we should go inside. We've probably already missed the sorting ceremony."

"McGonagall is going to murder us Harry," Ron said in a detached voice that seemed as if he had given up his will to live.

"Not if we hurry," He replied, slightly irritated at his friend's lifeless disposition. He pulled again at his sleeve and this time managed to drag him inside. I followed closely behind, carrying bits of luggage until Harry informed me to leave it with the rest. It would be in our dorms by the time we make it up after the feast. I was amazed at this small wonder and part of me wanted to stay and see how it was done.

Harry was in the mist of explaining all the crazy and outrageous things that have happened to him over the summer and small bit of time he was here when he stopped to notice someone walking towards them. It was man well into his thirties with two sheets of oily black hair framing his droopy face that was topped of with an abnormally large and hooked nose. His beady black eyes never moved from the small children in front of him as he approached with a couple livid steps, obviously not pleased by their sudden appearance. Whoever he was, we could clearly scratch off knitting club as the topic of this following conversation.

Harry explained in a rushed whisper that this was the infamous Professor Snape.

He directed us towards his rather dark office that was filled with jars of things I do not even want to think about, much less describe. The yelling session soon commenced and we, Harry, Ron, and me, were forced to sit into a chair until it was over.

He held up a newspaper whose headline read "Flying Ford Angela Mystifies Muggles" in lacy black writing. A picture even accompanied the article. Lockhart's book signing followed our misfortunate even and the only thought that followed was one of his disappointment as he noticed his book signing did not make the top headline. I contained my snickering for this Professor Snape seemed like the type of character you don't randomly burst into laughter in front of. It was such a pity too because it could have spared us from a rather drawn out and boring lecture.

"You were seen by no less than seven muggles," his tone matched his dreary disposition as he held emphasis upon every word. He abruptly snapped the paper shut and violently slammed it upon his desk to reveal his look of enraged disappointment. "Do you have any idea how serious this is? You have risked the exposure of our world! Not to mention the damage you inflicted upon a Whomping Willow that has been on these grounds since before you were born." Emphases was held upon his last five words as he scanned the faces before him for any more means to expel them this instant.

It was Ron who surprisingly spoke up. "Honestly Professor Snape," he trembled upon his words, begging their professor to see the predicament from their point of view, "I think it did more damage to us."

Apparently this was not the formal apology he was looking for as he shot us a rather rude look before snarling on the continuation of his speech. "Silence!" He paused only momentarily for Ron to shut his mouth in a gulp. "I assure you," his hands repeatedly crossed over one another as they inched their way further upon the table towards us, his feet moving slowly behind them, "that were you in Slytherin and your fate rested with me, the three of you would be on the train home tonight!" His slight pause was enough time for the seriousness of his words to sink in to our mind. He sneered at us showing his tarnished teeth. "As it is –"

"They are not." Faint words that held a power of their own rescued us from the ranging mad man. A tall, elderly man with rusted red robes and cap that rested upon a cascade of thick and wiry white hair that flowed down towards his mid back. There was a beard that equaled in color and length and, sitting securely upon his nose, were half moon spectacles. He was accompanied by an elderly woman with icy blue eyes and pursed lips. It was clear that she fell under the certain circumstances as Professor Snape when given word upon our lavish arrival. Harry made them out to be Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall but I was more worried as to what they had to say instead of who they were.

"Head master," Professor Snape composed himself only to stick out a ridiculing finger towards us similar to that of an accusing child. "These three have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. As such –"

"I am well aware of our bylaws Severus, having written a few of them myself." A curt nod was followed towards his direction before he continued. "However, as head of Gryffindor House, it is for Professor McGonagall to determine the appropriate action."

I was wondering where I fit upon the circumstance but I would far more likely to be judged by the strict elderly woman than the raging wild man. It was Ron who answered for me by stating in a low and routed tone, "We'll go and get our stuff then."

"What are you talking about Mr. Weasley?" This Professor McGonagall looked upon him as if he were speaking some sort of eccentric language that was hard to decipher.

"You're going to expel us aren't you?" He sounded pitiful as if it were his life that she was taking away and not his education. He could not even find the strength to look upon her.

A faint smile spread across her lips as she mulled the boy's words over. "Not to today Mr. Weasley." Her gaze fell upon me as a warm friendly one. "It seems that young Miss Williams managed to save your necks this time with a letter she directed towards the Headmaster, explaining your situation." The boys looked upon me with friendly smiles and I felt one tugging at the very corners of my lips. Her tone fell back towards its original bitter sweet dialect as she was reminded upon the pressing danger the matter could have inflicted. "But I must impress on the three of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing towards your families tonight and both of you will receive detention." This was enough for the two's spirits to be momentarily crushed.

"Both?" I questioned as there were obviously three of us.

"Yes Miss Williams," McGonagall replied, turning her attention back upon me. "I am afraid that it is not up to me to decide your punishment. That is, unless, you are sorted into Gryffindor."

I found myself hoping once more that I was not sorted into Slytherin for I would have to return home shortly after my arrival. Despite the anxiety that bubbled inside me, I followed her and Dumbledore towards his office. It was guarded by an unusually large gargoyle that stepped out of the way the very moment Dumbledore appeared in eye sight to reveal a winding set of stairs. Upon entering his office I was mesmerized by all of the trinkets he had. They were scattered across his desk and shelves, reflecting bit of light that passed their way.

"Please have a seat Abigail," Dumbledore spoke softly as he fetched an old worn out hat whose wrinkles resembled that of a face with long thin lips and an eyebrow that was posed up quizzically. He placed it gently upon my head as the corners of the hat curled up in delight from a fresh mind.

"Ah," the hat chimed in a wind blown voice, "Abigail Williams." Of all of the things I imagined hats to do, talking was not one of them. I sat there, debating whether or not to hold a conversation with an intimidate object. It was magic however and apparently anything goes in Hogwarts. "Such a ripe mind," the voice trailed leaving circles of confusion upon my mind. "A healthy thirst for knowledge, a kind heart, an unforgiving tongue, and a need to prove yourself." It was then that I realized he was talking within my mind and how it was purely a way for my subconscious to decide my fate. I shivered uncontrollably at the thought of something foreign entering my mind against my will. "I see you have already figured out my game. Intelligence will get you far," it spoke softly as it pondered in mid-thought, "If you use it wisely." I could hear the cunningness in his voice and felt no need to look upon his expression for surly he would be smirking. I shivered involuntarily upon the thought of him knowing something that I did not, epically when it concerned my fate. I could tell he felt it lingering upon the hinges of my mind but we both refused to dig deeper for the meaning or at least a name to call this odd sensation. Maybe one day I will question him about his words but as of now he was preparing to make his decision. "Must be Ravenclaw," it announced and this time I heard its rumbling, gruff voice through my ears and less with my mind.

"Very well," Dumbledore smiled upon me with a twinkle in his faded blue eyes that reassured me of my existence at Hogwarts. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as the fleeting thought of expulsion left my mind. "Professor Filius Flitwick is the head of Ravenclaw and will also be your Charms teacher. He will show you towards your dorm where your luggage will be awaiting your arrival." He informed looking upon a crestfallen McGonagall. I assume she was looking forward towards having another Hermione in her group.

Professor Flitwick was a short, elderly man. He came no taller than waste height upon me. He had a splotch of white hair that seemed to cover the majority of his face and head except for the thinning top. He talked with a high and unusually squeaky voice as he informed me upon the history of Hogwarts and my house, Ravenclaw. He wasted no time in presenting me with a glorified badge that seemed to be blue in nature, brandishing a bronze eagle and lacy words that read "Ravenclaw" upon the top, fanned out portion. He seemed pleased to have me in his House and I was not about to disappoint him by not listening towards his drawn out speech. It seemed repetitive in parts but at least he made sure to not skip anything I may find interesting. Truth be told, the only interesting thing I found about it was the end. I was tired from the several scares I encountered today, not to mention the awfully long plane ride I encountered to come here, and the only thought that was on my mind was that of sleep.

He informed that I would have detention alongside Harry and Ron for our actions but I refused to mind seeing as it was better than expulsion.

He led me towards the west side of the castle, towards the fifth floor, and up a tightly wounded spiral staircase. What stroke me as odd was how the door neither had a handle nor keyhole. It did, however, sport a bronze knocker in the peculiar shape of an eagle.

"Simply answer her question and you are free to go inside." He smiled upon me, awaiting my immediate action.

I became hesitant and suddenly fully aware of what I was doing, talking towards another intimate object. I knocked once upon the heavy wooden door and surly this awoken the bronze creature sleeping soundlessly upon the door.

Without skipping a beat, it awoke to look upon me with cogitating eyes. It smiled upon me as its mind formed a riddle, the likes of which would surly be difficult. "What belongs to you but others use it more?" Its voice was calm and feminine, something that I felt was odd considering its proposition in life.

My mind traced over the meaning of the riddle and fell upon bar tab as a witty response. One look upon Professor Flitwick's eager face dismissed my answer as being wildly inappropriate. Instead, my mind formed a new answer. "Your name?" I asked tentatively. The thought of humiliating myself in the eyes of my teacher on the first day was not one of fondness.

"Splendid!" He cried with a cheerful smile as his mouth formed the words once more. The knocker seemed to agree as the door swung open, beckoning me in by the soft glow of fire crackling happily in a near by fire place.

Graciously, I accepted its offer and steeped into the grand circular room. It was wide and airy with a dome ceiling painted as the night sky. Everywhere I looked seemed to have some resemblance towards the House's colors. Blue and bronze silk wall hangings covered the walls but parted briefly to reveal gracefully arched windows here and there. Each one provides a different, spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. Bookcases stretched across part of the room that held hundreds of volumes of books, each one about a particular subject. Tables and chairs were scattered about but only added towards the studious atmosphere that followed upon entering the room.

"The dormitories are located beyond that door," he gestured towards the only other door in the room that was opposite from the one we previously entered through. "Girl's dormitories are on the right. Your room, as well as the other second year girls, should be the second to last," He informed with another beaming smile before bidding us ado as he left me to fend for myself.

To my amazement, none seemed to be up. The common room was abandoned from any life except the occasional flutter of flame. I assumed that I was late in my arrival but not this late. Cautiously, I walked up towards the only other door in the room, wondering if I would have to answer another riddle. Much to my enjoyment, there was a door knob present on this one. Before opening the door I could not but help my eyes from wondering over the elaborate, life-size, white marble statue of what I presumed to be Rowena Ravenclaw wearing what looked to be a diadem positioned next to the door. It seemed to be the only cherished treasure in the room, that and of course the phenomenal book case.

I soon found my way towards my new room and bed that brandished a bronze name tag that spoke my name in a lacy script. Regardless, I did not make time to notice every small detail about the room for I was now exhausted. I simply kicked my shoes of and slid under the enriching dark blue covers. Everything else could wait until tomorrow morning.