Chapter 5

June 1, 1970

Daddy gave me a new diary as always for my birthday, but I'd not needed it until today. It's kinda fun to realize that I'm starting my 3rd diary already! I've got my story for Mr. Goshen about Miss Dorothy and General Tom finished. But I wanted to write it in here before I turn it in that way I'll always have it to read whenever I feel like it.

It was the evening before the battle. Both sides were set to exchange fire at dawn of the next day. The general's tent sat off apart from those of the common soldiers. He'd only just arrived in the encampment late that evening and as yet had not made an appearance before his men. They knew of course that he'd arrived having been informed that the wealthy son of a nobleman had been placed in charge of their forces. The experienced soldiers laughed at the thought of having a greenhorn in command. Already wagers were being placed to see how long this general would last on the field.

"General." General Tom heard an insistent voice heralding him out of his deep slumber. "General – Sir. You must get up. The men need to see you before it all begins."

General Tom managed to come to his senses somewhat and realized where he was and who was talking to him. In the space of about 15 minutes, Tom found himself up, dressed, a cup of black coffee tossed down his throat, and seated upon his horse before his assembled troops.

"Well, men. Today is the day that we show those King's men exactly who they are dealing with. Who's with me?"

A chorus of cheers met his ears and he wheeled his horse and headed across the fog-swathed moor to meet the Kings' forces. As his horse approached, Tom received his first full glimpse of the forces that he was opposing. Lines and lines and lines of men, horses, and cannon faced him. Looking back at his own paltry forces, Tom made a quick decision. He unfastened his white handkerchief and quickly tied it onto his saber and waved it wildly as he spurred his horse on shouting at the top of his lungs "I surrender!"

The startled King's soldiers took the surrendering general in hand and brought him to their commanding officer. The King's general, not fully believing that this fight was won without a single shot having been fired, met Tom. "Well, sir, why might I ask are you surrendering?" Tom replied, "I am wise enough to see that you out number me and my men. I'd rather have my men alive to fight another day than be stuck writing missives to their widows. Do with me what you will, just let my men leave unharmed."

"Agreed," the King's general replied.

Tom was taken into captivity and shortly sent on Newgate Prison. Back at home, his younger sister, Dorothy, was reading beside the fire in her sitting room when her maid came to fetch her. "Mum, you've a visitor from the King." Setting aside her book and her curiosity piqued, Dorothy followed the maid through the castle's corridors into the Great Hall. There standing near the far hearth, was a messenger from the King.

"My lady," he said formally bowing to her. "I'm terribly sorry to disturb you madam, but I was told that you are the only member of the household home at the present and I have news of great importance."

"That's true. My parents have decided to take a holiday until this mess is over. My brothers and sisters are abroad as well. How may I assist you?"

"Here madam, this explains," the messenger replied handing her a piece of rolled parchment bearing the seal of both the King and one of his generals.

"Oh, Tom," Dorothy breathed as she broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. "What have you done this time? Oh no! You've managed to get yourself imprisoned! Thank you sir. I will see to this matter immediately. Please stop by the kitchens and Cook will make sure that you have some food for your return trip."

"Thank you my lady," he said as he turned and left the room.

"Marcella! Quickly, I need my cloak."

Dorothy followed her maid out of the room and soon the two women were dressed in riding habits and set off towards the nearby prison. The guards at the gate straightened at the sight of a lady and led her to her brother.

"Oh Tom," she breathed as she took in his ragged appearance. "You're insufferable!"

"Please tell me you're here to get me out of this place Little Sis," Tom asked with a cheeky grin.

"Hush! That will come later. I've got to come up with a plan in which you won't be noticed. But for now, why did you go and join the rebellion? Why didn't you do what Mama and Papa and the others decided to do and take a holiday?"

"What?! And leave you unprotected?! I think not!"

"You know that I am perfectly able to care for myself! So how much did you owe?"

"Well, I did it because I'm broke and didn't want the debtors chasing after me. But I didn't think I'd really turn coward and run, but I did."

The siblings talked for several more moments until the guards came to escort Dorothy and her maid back out. That began a series of visits in which Dorothy would visit her brother. Each time that she came, he asked her how she was planning on getting him out of there. Each time her response was the same. That she was working on it.

Early in the next month, Dorothy had finally come up with a solution to get Tom out of the prison. Dressing in her maid's clothing before pulling on her own dress, Dorothy made sure that not a scrap of the maid's clothes showed under her dress. She and Marcella rode towards the prison. Marcella stayed with the horses in the glen just outside of the prison and Dorothy approached the gates alone. The guards were by now so used to seeing her, that she was admitted without a fuss.

"Tom," Dorothy said quietly. "Today is the day. I'm getting you out of here. Now keep talking like we usually do and then after my usual amount of time here with you, you'll help me out of the dress."

"Out of the dress! Sis are you crazy!"

"Shhhh! And listen! I've got Marcella's clothes on under my dress. You'll turn your back and put on Marcella's whilst I don my own again. You'll have to dress quickly otherwise we'll both be caught. The guards come for me after having been with you for about an hour. And it takes them about 5 or 10 minutes to get here. Understand?"

"Ah I see."

The two visited until Dorothy gave her brother the signal that it was time to make the escape. Both quickly changed and soon Tom was disguised. Dorothy played her part for all she was worth as she left the cell.

"Tom, I'll be back again to visit you soon," she said as she wiped away a false tear from the corner of her eye. "And perhaps next time, you'll actually be civil to me!"

With a flounce of her skirts she and her "maid" left the cell without waiting a response from the prisoner within. Outside the prison, Dorothy led her "maid" to the glen where Marcella was waiting with the horses. Tom started to throw off his disguise, but stopped when his sister shot him a glare. The trio robe back to the castle where Tom was immediately disguised as a servant.

The guards soon realized that General Tom had escaped and knew that his sister had been his only visitor. They rode like the wind to Bamburgh Castle where they turned it inside out, searching for the prisoner. Dorothy stood furiously in the Great Hall and watched as the men tore her home apart in the hopes of finding her brother. What they didn't notice was that that the General had been in front of them the entire search. Dorothy had gotten Tom disguised as a kitchen boy and he was sitting beside the large hearth turning the spit. Both siblings realized that the safety of the entire castle was jeopardized by Tom's presence there. Tom was sheltered in a seldom used portion of the castle and slowly regained the strength that his time in prison had stolen from him.

After about two years of hiding and putting his sister at risk, Tom was fed up.

"Dorothy," he announced one morning while the siblings broke the fast. "I've got to get out of here."

"And where will you go," she asked calmly. She'd known that this day was coming. She'd sensed the restlessness in him over the past few months.

"France," he replied without a moment's hesitation. "I've made the arrangements. I leave in a fortnight."

"Very well then," she told him. "I'll miss you. And please either marry Marcella or stop playing with her. She's not a plaything for you. She loves you, though why I'm not entirely sure."

Tom agreed and within two weeks he and Marcella were on their way to France. Tom had realized that he had fallen in love with his sister's maid, the woman who had cared for him the most during his hiding.

Well, that's my story. I really liked letting my imagination run away with me. I hope that Mr. Goshen likes it.

Always,

Lily

July 16, 1970

I got a letter from Julie today. It's so hard to have her so far away! I miss her a lot. Well anyway, here's what she wrote:

Dear Lily,

I miss you! I wish that you could have been here with us when the memorial service for Daddy was held. I know that the service was back in March and that this is July, but this is the first I've been able to write of it. Mum was a wreck as has been the case since we got the Army telegram saying Daddy was dead. There was no body for us to bury. The Army said that it was too badly destroyed. But we buried the things that they shipped us. We buried his Army tags, his picture, and a few other things as well. Mum wanted to put in Daddy's wedding ring, but I didn't want her to do that. So I've got Daddy's ring hidden in my bureau drawer. Along with all the letters that I've written Daddy since his death. But the service was very moving. The Army chaplain, you know we're not religious and don't go to a church anywhere, told those of is gathered at the graveside about how Daddy had died rescuing a squad of men. That's the first that we'd heard about that. Then the Army guys gave a 21-gun salute to Daddy. That's where there are 7 soldiers in their dress uniforms and they shoot their rifles into the air three times. I cried a lot. My biggest worry is how I'm going to take care of Cassie and Samuel. Mum spends her days drinking cheap wine and that's while she's working at the diner. I didn't tell you. Mum took a job as waitress just to make enough money for us to live on. Cassie and Samuel don't understand why their Mummy isn't home anymore. And when she is home, why she's always yelling at them to shut up. My brother and sister are only 5 and 3. They need their Mum. Me, I'm old enough to take care of myself. And I'm going to see to it that nothing will hurt my little brother and sister ever again. Even Mum.

But how are you Lily? Did you have a good birthday? What did your teacher think of that castle story that you turned in? I wish I could have seen the finished castle. Thanks for sharing your story with me. You've got a lot of talent. You had me actually there with General Tom and Miss Dorothy. I needed that. Thanks. I was sorry to hear about Granna Louise. I know how much she meant to you. And I remember her as a sweet woman who was always greeting us with a hug and some cookies. What are the chances that your parents will let you come here at Christmas? I could really use my best friend, and the kids that I go to school with just don't understand me the way that you do. We're a team, you and I.

I've got to go now Lily. Cassie needs me.

Your friend,

Julie

I want so badly to be able to go see Julie in America. But I know it's pointless to ask. I'm too young. At least we have our letters though.

Mr. Goshen loved my story. He told me that I should consider becoming a writer. That's another idea for me now. I could be a teacher, a doctor, or a writer. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

Petunia's home for the holidays. She spends time with me only when forced to do so, and I don't really understand why. I've not caused any accidents since the day that I set fire to the school desk. But evidently my accidents are too freakish for her. I think that Stephanie is the one who keeps poisoning her against me. I mean Petunia's known me my whole life, being that she is my sister. And the one time that Stephanie met me, she made me mad and I caused an accident. Why do we have to grow up? Why can't we always be children and then my sister and I would still be close?

Always,

Lily

With a sigh, Hermione closed the leather bound book, and stretched. It had been a long day and since hearing something earlier that disturbed her reading, she'd been on her guard. Now she was exhausted.

Gathering her things, she left the attic and moved cautiously down the attic stairs. Seeing that her wards were still in place, she relaxed slightly, but only slightly. She left the house and slowly made her way through London's evening rush. She had to take the underground away from the house in order to safely reach a place from which she could Apparate. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the muffled sounds of footsteps behind her and the soft swish of an invisibility cloak.

"Hermione," Ginny asked as she approached her friend.

"Yes," the other woman replied.

"We've got to do something about Harry. He's getting worse each day. If something isn't done soon, he'll be lost completely."

"I know," Hermione replied with a touch of worry in her voice. "These last three years have been hard on everyone especially Harry. And you. I'm working on something right now that I hope will help him."

"What is it?"

"I can't divulge that just yet. Not until I have all the facts."

"Is it a potion or something that restore him to himself?"

"Not exactly. Let's just say that I've found something that will help him remember that he's not alone."

"You will tell me when it's ready won't you," Ginny asked.

"I promise. When I feel that the time is right, you'll be the first to know."

Hermione watched the pretty redhead walk out of the room thinking that there was the woman who loved Harry as much as if not more than Lily. Shaking herself out of her thoughts of Harry, she focused on the more pressing things on her mind. Things like the fact that someone had been following her. She needed to approach the Order about this.

"Remus," Hermione called as she knelt on the floor with her head in the kitchen fireplace. "I need to talk to you." She pulled her head out of the fireplace and within a matter of seconds, there was a flash of green light and Remus Lupin was dusting the soot off his clothes as he stood in the kitchen.

"Is Harry worse?"

"No, but it's about what I've found and some concerns I have."

Remus sank tiredly into one of the kitchen chairs, cast an imperturbable charm on the doorway with a flick of his wand, and gave the pacing young woman in front of him his full attention.

"Hermione. Hermione. What is it? What have you found out?"

"Ok, so I know that my mission was to find something, anything that will help the Order, but that's taken a back seat to what I've discovered. I stumbled across a trunk full of books."

"And that has what to do with your mission?"

"I'm getting there! Just wait a minute. This trunk caused me to change my mission. So instead of looking for something that will help the Order, I'm now on a quest to help Harry. And I've discovered how to do that."

"How," Remus replied his curiosity piqued in spite of this blatant disregard for orders.

"Through his mother."

"How can Lily help Harry? She's been dead for nineteen years."

"I know that. But you see this trunk of books was actually a trunk of journals."

"Journals? Like in diaries?"

"Yes. And written by no other than Lillian Michelle Evans Potter," she announced triumphantly.

"Lily kept a diary? Amazing. How many are there? What does she write about? How will this help Harry?"

"I'm not very far into her story, but it's amazing. I strongly suspect that one of her ancestors was a witch. And tragic deaths run in her family. Make that young tragic deaths."

"Wait. Lily was Muggleborn. She was the only witch in the family."

"Or so you always thought. There is evidence in these diaries that her great-great grandmother was a witch. I've researched this. There are times, though I admit that they are rare, that magic skips several generations. In Lily's case, the magic skipped her father's generation, her grandmother's generation, and her great-grandmother's generation. Remus? Are you alright?"

"This is just a lot to take in. Lily kept a diary. Evidently more than one. And she's got an ancestry that has at least one witch in the family. But I find it intriguing. Please continue."

"Ok. Well, Lily's story is very intriguing. It starts when she's eight years old, and from what I can tell it goes through the days leading up to her death. It's almost as if she's wanting her son to find these diaries and read them."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet. It's just a theory floating around in my head. But I think that Lily wants Harry to realize how much love is worth. And how it is love that makes him who he is."

"I'm not sure I follow you, but go on."

"That's just it. I don't have anything more right now! It's just this thought I have that if Harry knows his mother's story, you know what she was like as a child, her experiences at Hogwarts, James, that kind of thing."

"How will that help Harry?"

"He'll have more than just moving photographs of his mum. He'll have her words. Her thoughts. And it may be just enough to bring him back to us. To you. To me. To Ginny."

"You know I think that you may be onto something there. But, you mentioned some concerns."

"Oh that. I'm being followed," she stated matter-of-factly.

"You're what!? How? Who?"

"I don't know who it is, but whomever it is is using an Invisibility cloak."

"Those are really rare."

"I know that. And I know that Harry has one, but he's not been using it seeing as how he hasn't been going anywhere. Dobby would have mentioned it. Moody has two. And those are safely locked up. I don't know who it could be."

"So it's not the Order. Well, you won't be allowed to go alone any longer."

"Remus, that won't work. They'll know we suspect something if my routine breaks and all of a sudden I have an escort. No, I have to stay to my routine. But I wanted you to be aware. Perhaps you could post a lookout? In disguise of course."

"Maybe. Let me think about it and get back to you. You certainly can't read the diaries here. Harry may discover them. And you don't want that yet do you?"

"No I don't. But I have faith in you Remus. You'll figure something out. Now, I've got some research to do and you should be getting on home."

"Right you are."

Hermione watched as her former professor released the charm on the kitchen and stepped into the fireplace. With a flash of green light, he was gone and she was left alone to try to come up with her plan.

With no real plan in mind and with Remus not having come up with a solution, Hermione agreed to be extra careful as she spent her days in the attic reading Lily's story.

August 31, 1970

Well the summer holidays are almost over. Petunia turned 13 two days ago. We are having a family dinner tonight to celebrate the start of the new school year. She leaves in the morning to go back to her school.

Dreams, dreams, dreams. The ones that I have keep getting stranger and stranger. First it was the castle and this dark haired boy. Now it's this lake that seems bottomless. I'm standing beside it with a group of my friends and I see this boy being picked on. That's only the beginning because then the dream changes. I'm not at the lake anymore. I'm in some sort of hospital or something and looking over a bed at a young man with sandy brown hair lying there very pale and covered in scratches. He's evidently a friend, but I don't know who he is. Then the dream changed again. Now I'm meeting with a group of really odd people and there is evidently some sort of plan in the works. I'm standing next to that dark haired boy. Only now he's a man and is holding my hand tightly. We both look scared. The sandy haired young man is there too. As is another man with black hair and grey eyes. I can tell that he's a good friend to the man beside me. Then there's a forth man. This one is kneeling before me and the man beside me. He's clutching both of our hands and a circle of light envelops the three of us and then it's gone. I wish that there was someone I could talk to about these dreams. They just keep getting stranger and stranger. And I dream these strange dreams more often.

Mr. Goshen told me some of what he's going to have me do this year. He wants me to learn the American way of measuring things and weighing them and stuff like that. So instead of referring to meters and the like, I will have to learn about inches and feet and ounces and pounds and cups. I think that one of the projects he's going to make me do is to make something using those measurements. I can only hope that if it's a cake, it'll turn out good. I am all thumbs in the kitchen anyway and Mum rarely lets me help her!

Daddy was telling the room in general last night about the war in Vietnam. He was saying that it can't last too much longer since the American troops don't seem to be supported at home. I'm glad. That means that Julie doesn't have to worry anymore. But her dad is already dead from it anyway. Daddy also went on about something about the Suez Canal and how the United Nations are trying to resolve the mess in Israel. Then there was his general announcement that the band the Rolling Stones was making a documentary. I'm glad Daddy has his news but truthfully, it doesn't really interest me all that much.

Well I've got to go now. Mum's calling me for dinner.

Always,

Lily

October 15, 1970

School is driving me crazy! For some unknown reason, Mr. Goshen has decided that I needed to study French. So for the last month he's been teaching me French verbs, phrases, and everything else French. It's almost as if he's wanting me to be fluent in it! I don't see when I'll ever use it. Though it is sorta fun though. I am picking it up pretty fast, but I can honestly say that I never expected to learn French.

I was looking at Great-great grandmother Clarissa's portrait the other day. I could swear that that it was talking to me! But that's silly. Pictures can't talk. Here I am nearly eleven and I can't understand why I'm so different. Maybe I'm drawn to Clarissa because she was different too. Or maybe it's because I look so much like her. Of course the portrait that I have of her is when she's about 17 or 18. I guess that I can see what I'll look like in a few years.

Mum and I took a trip to London last weekend. Mum wanted to do some shopping and I was bored and wanted to maybe find something for Julie. Well anyway, we were in London and walking down this one street when I think that my eyes started playing tricks on me. We walked past this one store and next to it was the ugliest pub I've ever seen! But when I pointed it out to Mum and we both turned around and looked, it wasn't there. This is ranking up there with my crazy dreams. Too weird. If this is how growing up is going to be, I think I want to stay little forever!

Always,

Lily

Hermione laughed as she read about Lily discovering the Leaky Cauldron without seeming to realize it. "Yes, Lily, you have so much more in common with Clarissa than you think." Putting aside the journal, she pulled her knees up against her chest and sat there with her arms wrapped around her legs, thinking. Thinking about Harry and his need to be helped. Thinking too, that perhaps the time had come to share these journals with Ginny, who loved him so much. Thinking about whatever plan that Remus was going to suggest for her protection, and knowing that whatever it was she wasn't going to like it. How long she sat like that, she never really knew. After some time, she shook herself out of her thoughts and turned her attention back to the journal laying beside her.

November 17, 1970

I had another strange dream last night. Only this time it wasn't about me or a castle or that dark-haired boy. This time it involved Julie. In my dream, she was crying out for help as she tried to protect her brother and sister. I'm not terribly sure what she was protecting them from. She was being hurt, though, I did notice that. Where was her mum? What was going on? I got another letter from her in this morning's post. Here is what she wrote:

My dear Lily,

As I'm looking out the window writing this, I see that fall has arrived in force. The few trees that we are able to see from the flat's windows have turned the most beautiful shades of red and gold. Reminds me of you glorious hair. But, Lily, you would never believe what has been happening over here. Yes, the war is still going on and people hate it. But I was talking about the school that I'm going to. When school started in September, every school here had to allow black children to attend. Evidently that's not been allowed before. I don't mind it. But there are others who hate the idea of white children being in the same classroom as black. Mum is one of those. And that's not like her. Or at least like how she used to be when we were in England. I think it's all those pills and the drinks she takes all day long every day. They've really changed her. Anyway, two days ago, there was a huge protest thing going on outside of my school. I was walking to the school with my brother and sister, holding their hands like the great sister that I am, when I saw that these parents were trying to stop black kids from entering the school. I saw Mum. Of course she didn't see us. She was too stoned. I told the kids to stay put and I ran over to her. When I tried to pull her away, she slapped me. Not that terribly hard Lily, and besides I'm used to it now. Mum has changed. I didn't want to leave her to the mob that was quickly forming, but I had no choice. I had to protect the kids. We tried to retreat to a safe distance, but we couldn't really. I was like a mother lion in front of her cubs by shielding the kids with my body. After a while, the sounds died of gunfire died away and I looked around. The mob had certainly gotten out of hand. Some people had been hurt by the guns that were fired in protection of the black children. I looked around for Mum. I didn't see her right away. Then I saw her. Lying in an ever-widening pool of blood. Not caring for my own safety, I ran to her. I took her head in my lap and started to cry. "Mummy, don't leave us. We need you." She opened her eyes once, smiled slightly, reached up to wipe the tears from my face, and then fell back into my arms. I just sat there rocking her. I don't know how long I was there either. Until I heard a woman's voice pulling me away and saying, "Come now child, she's gone. Come with me." So for the last day or so, we've been staying with that kind woman, but I took us back to our place last night. Because it's our place. The only thing we have that is ours. Lily, I'm scared. I don't know what they are going to do with us. Three kids with no family. I'm going to do everything that I can to ensure that we stay together. If I can get the money together, we'll come back to England. Your parents would take us in wouldn't they? For now, though, I'm going to go. I need to figure out what we're having to eat.

Julie

Oh Julie! I understand now that my dream was of her at the riot. At least I think it was. That's really weird. I don't understand how I can dream something that happens to Julie and it actually happen. At least I think that what I dreamt really happened to her.

Mr. Goshen has been really impressed with my quick grasp of French. He's gotten to the point that all of my lessons are now in French. He recently had me studying about King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. I am loving reading about Sir Gawain, Lancelot, Kay, and the others. What fascinates me the most is the parts about Merlin, the Lady of the Lake, Morgan le Fay, and the other magical peoples. The legends vary about the relationships of these people. Some say that Morgan le Fay was Arthur's sister. Others say she was his lover and mother of Mordred, a love child of Arthur's. I'm not really sure which one I like the best. One fact that I've found interesting is that the legends all agree that Arthur and Camelot most probably existed in South Wales. I wonder if that is anywhere near where Clarissa grew up. It would be really funny if she actually ended up being related to Arthur. Which would mean that I'm related to him too! Mr. Goshen is planning on asking Daddy and Mum if we can go to South Wales so that I can experience the culture of what might have been Camelot. I think that Daddy will agree simply because of my interest in Clarissa and her family!

Always,

Lily

November 21, 1970

South Wales. I still can't believe that I'm actually here! It's so exciting. Mum finally gave in after Daddy told her that it would be a good experience for me. And of course Mum's here with me and Mr. Goshen. Mr. Goshen wants me to experience all that South Wales has to offer while at the same time recognizing that this may have been the spot of Camelot. So while we're here, we're going to be studying Arthur in depth. Truthfully, as much as the Camelot legends excite me, I'm much more interested in finding out information about Clarissa. I know that her family name was Breese and that she was born in Carmarthen. I wonder how near we are to Carmarthen. Carmarthen – Carmarthen. You know that sounds like it could be later spelling of Camelot! That would be too cool if the area that my great-great grandmum was born in is actually the modern day spot where Camelot once stood! Oh wait til I get a letter off to Julie! She'll be thrilled for me. Anyway, I must run now. Mum says that it's time to visit the local pub to eat dinner. More later.

Always,

Lily

November 26, 1970

The funniest thing happened the other day while Mr. Goshen and I were wondering around the barrows near the village. A woman came out of a thatched cottage, took one look at me, and gasped. She then promptly ran back into her home and we heard her say something in Welsh. Mr. Goshen decided to try and find out what the matter was. So he went and knocked on her door. I was right beside him so I got to hear the entire conversation.

"Excuse us madam," he began (ever the proper English gentleman). "But what was that that happened a moment ago when you saw my student?"

"She gave me a fright gov'ner," the woman replied in heavily accented English. "You see sir. This wee lass looks like me husband's cousin, four times removed or so."

I was starting to get excited. Evidently this woman was related to Clarissa somehow.

"Madam, would you mind telling us the name of your relative?"

"Sure and it's Clarissa. Clarissa Breese. I believe. Family lore tells of how she ran off and disgraced the entire family and that one day she threatened she'd be back. The family stories also tell of her flaming red hair and emerald eyes."

"Well, my fine lady, this girl is not Clarissa. Her name is Lily. Lily Evans of England. Though I believe that she does have some Welsh blood in her a few generations back."

"Ma'am," I finally found my voice. "About Clarissa, did things happen around her?"

"Aye lassie they did. Tis a tale I'd love to share. Best you be coming in for tea now and I'll share all that I know."

We followed the woman into her tiny, yet, cozy home.

"I'm called Brynne. Brynne Breese, actually. Me husband's name is Owyn. His family, the Breeses, have lived in these parts for generations. And on this land specifically. The last century has been difficult for this family. In the late 16th century, the Breese's were the most powerful family in the area. The patriarch of the family was me husband's great grandpappy, Brychan. He and his lovely bride, Eleri, settled in Carmarthen in 1830. Well actually the land here, the village came later. To this union came six sons and one daughter. The eldest, Kenrick was born in 1831, next came Gavan in 1833, then Carey in 1840, Evan followed in 1843, Owyn (he's the branch me husband's from) arrived in 1846, Reese in 1853, and finally the daughter, Clarissa, in 1858. 'Twas dangerous for Eleri to have Clarissa, being that she was past her prime child-bearing years. In fact, the babe's birth almost killed her.

"The family wasn't all kind during those years. Unexplained things would happen in the village and when the villagers approached Brychan, he heard their complaints, but thought them silly. You see, lassie, the Breese's were a family steeped in, what for the time was considered, sorcery. The villagers were scared to death of them. And 'twas the entire family, not just the menfolk."

"So, how did Clarissa disgrace the family?"

"Ah yes. The daughter. She was a beauty. Flaming red hair and emerald eyes. As a wee babe, her da was so proud of her. The eyes and the hair signaled that she'd be powerful. Her name meant "brilliant goddess." And that's what the family hoped she'd become. An extremely powerful goddess in her own right. Yet as she grew, she saw the way that her family abused the gifts and powers they'd been given. She didn't want that for herself. She wanted to use her powers for good. She wanted to help people. The villagers loved her because she could heal them of their ailments with a simple touch. The family could indulge their youngest in these human practices, because they indulged her every whim. They weren't happy with her, but they allowed her to practice and use her gifts for the good of others. Until the day that she attended a young, injured Englishman. You have to understand, lass, that the Welsh are a proud people. To this day, there is a strong dislike for all things English. This young man had been grievously injured on a hunting expedition. The villagers who found him brought him to Clarissa at the Breese keep. Her father recognized that her powers were needed, and sent for her. She treated the man's wounds and nursed him back to health. While he was unconscious, the family didn't know that he was English. But as he regained consciousness, he began to speak. His words were not of the flowing Welsh tongue, but rather of the coarse English that the English speak.

"Brychan ordered him to be removed from his home, despite the fact that to send the man out on his own would be to incite certain death. Clarissa, for the first time in her life, refused to do as her father ordered. When her brothers tried to remove him bodily from her care, she stood her ground and told them that removing him would mean losing her as well since she would go with her patient. Not about to see the loss of the future goddess, the brothers backed down. So Clarissa continued to nurse the man to health. What none of her family counted on though was her falling in love with her patient. When he was well enough to leave, Brychan's patience had seen its limits. He ordered the young man out of his home, never to return, and to never speak of the happenings he witnessed while in his daughter's care. Happenings such as disappearances of things at certain times, unexplained healings, stuff like that. The young man agreed and left quietly with but one quiet good-bye to the beautiful Clarissa.

"She was distraught of course. She loved him. He loved her. Her parents were separating them. A few weeks after he'd left, Clarissa approached her father. She told him that she was in love with the Englishman. Her father was appalled. A Welsh woman in love with a dirty Englishman! The idea was completely unacceptable. He forbade her to leave to go to him, and sequestered her into her quarters. She escaped, defied her family, and met up with her young man. A few months of peace was all that the couple had before her brothers found them. Bringing both Clarissa and her young husband back to their father, the brothers were eager to see that their works would pay off. The treasured daughter, princess, was returned safely home to the parents who loved her. Clarissa's husband was kept as a prisoner while proceedings were put into place to see that the marriage was annulled. Once the family learned that Clarissa was expecting a child, though, the Breese's realized that attempts to annul the marriage would go to waste. No church would consider an annulment when a child was involved. The two stayed with her family until the child was born. On her childbed, Clarissa vowed to return and seek vengeance upon her family for the way in which they treated her and the man she loved.

"If she'd had a son, then her father would have forgiven her for marrying an Englishman. But she didn't. She gave birth to a daughter. And her healing powers were not enough for her to escape the childbed sickness. During her sickness, her mother passed away, and that was also laid upon Clarissa's feet. When she was able to travel, her husband took his wife and daughter away. Hoping to never see Clarissa's family again. Yet her father didn't give up that easily. True, the young family had a few years of happiness, but her father sent his sons to find her. He considered his daughter as having betrayed the family. And that betrayal would have a price. As long as she remained on Welsh soil, she and her family were not safe. Under some very mysterious circumstances, she died. Yet, the remainder of her family, her brothers and father, knew better. They have remembered her last words and tremble at the meanings in them."

"What were those words?"

"As Clarissa lay dying, her husband not home, she spoke to her brothers. She said 'There will come a time when you will pay for this deed. A child will come. A child with green eyes who will set things to right. You and your families should live in fear of this day.'"

"So, Mrs. Breese, you believe that Lily is that child?"

"Aye. She's the emerald eyes and flaming hair of Clarissa. And she's here."

"But I can't set things right. It's been over a hundred years since then. Surely, you're not still afraid of what will happen?"

"Well, lassie, we are. Clarissa was powerful. If'en you believe in such things, then consider this. Clarissa was the 7th child of a family that could well be considered witches. That means that she would be the most powerful of them all. Those abilities of her family have been passed down through the generations. Each one has had at least one person in it who has been, for lack of a better word, magical. Except for this generation. Of me husband, his cousins, and all of our children. None of us possess the Second Sight or the healing powers. So we can only believe that Clarissa's curse will come into being soon."

"Well, Lily, we must be returning to the village. Your mum will be worried. It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Breese. I hope that you can see that Lily is not that child that was spoken of."

But am I? Maybe I really am that child that Clarissa spoke of. After all, I'm the first in the family to demonstrate strange abilities. And the stories of Clarissa that are in my family are so different than what Mrs. Breese told us. I think that Clarissa's husband would tell his daughter the gentler version of the tale, and that's the one that Granna Louise told me. Anyway, more things to think about.

Always,

Lily