Hi guys!

Here's a new chapter, corrected once again by my super beta!
It's the last one of the first "part" of the story, in the next chapter Vivian will finally be going to Hogwarts!

I wish you a merry Christmas (a bit late, I know) if you celebrate it.
All I want for Christmas, personnally, is reviewsssss

Enjoy!

July 2015. It's my first time meeting Arthur again since that summer when my life got turned upside down. Again. In the meantime, I've been able to retrieve the paedophile's wand which almost never leaves me. I crafted an ankle holster similar to my dagger's in order to keep it in hand's reach at all time. I'm the one opening the door when I hear somebody ringing, since Mrs Winston is out doing the grocery. I find myself facing him, and it feels weird to see him again. He grew up quite a bit, and he's wearing muggle clothing, blue jeans with a black short-sleeved shirt. He's quite muscled, he must be doing sport. And, above all, he looks delighted to see me. He begins to move towards me, as if to hug me, and I instinctively pull back. We shake hands and I let him in.

He watches with interest as I lead him through the house. I bring him to my room, since I have no better ideas. I have the impression that I'm showing him something too intimate, although I made sure not to let this room show too much about me to the rare people visiting it. I look at my room at the same time as him, as if I was just discovering it as well. Smaller than his, it's just as tidied as his. I have light-blue wallpaper, on which I painted clouds, and fluorescent stars on the ceiling. My window is in the left-corner, with a view of the garden, and my desk is just next to it. It's a nice wooden desk, quite big, on which rest some candles, paper, a pencil-holder filled with different pens, sharp-objects, and drawing stuff. It also includes several drawers; in which I remember having several notebooks, some painting equipment, and various materials I've gathered here and there for crafting purposes. On the wall opposite to us, there are some drawings I made, my cupboard and my fire staff, and a katana firmly secured to the wall. It's not sharpened, to my great disappointment. Finally, on the right, my bed occupies the angle of the room. It's made, has dark-blue covers, and a nightstand, as well as a small table and two chairs set next to it.

I offer one to Arthur, inviting him to sit, then finally ask him:

"So, what are you doing here? You came alone?"

"I have holidays, that's why. I missed you. And yes, I came alone. I'm fully capable of dealing with muggle means of transportations! How are you?"

"I'm still alive, as you can see" (a classical dodge from me) "So what's up? Did you start doing sport?"

"Yes, I started Quidditch, I'm an alternate chaser for my team. And I started climbing, I really enjoyed when we did some!"

"There's a climbing wall in Hogwarts?"

"Not exactly, but there's some nice trees, and Ewald and I climb towers sometimes. One of us stays at the bottom, ready to cast a levitation spell if needed while the other climbs. I think that spending time with you may have had a bad influence on me..."

"I don't doubt it for a second" I say, hiding a smile "Who is Ewald?"

"He's my best friend. We met in the Hogwarts Express. He's in Slytherin, but he's really a good person."

Arthur seems defensive, as if he was expecting me to contradict him. Since I don't have any bullshit bias on Hogwarts houses, and I don't really care about those childish quarrels, my Hufflepuff companion quickly relaxes. He told me that he saw that the paedophile's wand disappeared from where we had hidden it, and I confirm him that I have it. I use the opportunity to show him the progress I made with magic. I now am able to use Accio, two or three tidying spells, and even make some things levitate, as long as they're light. Of course, I completely mastered the Glamour which I'm abusing a lot, but I definitively don't plan on mentioning it to Arthur.

He's both worried and impressed by my progress. He explains me that it can be dangerous to use too much magic at my age and that I should at least have adult supervision, but he's not able to explain me clearly why. I tell him that nothing bad has happened to me so far, and that I don't really have any capable adults around me. I tell him I don't need anyone. We remain silent for a moment, and I already regret having opened him. It brings things up inside of me, and I don't want anyone to stick their nose in my business.

He eventually changes the topic and points at my fire staff on the wall, curious to know what it is. So I bring him to my parents' garage, because it's rather tall and most importantly empty at this time of day, and I show him. I started fire staff about six months ago, after seeing a man do it on the street and negotiating a bit with my parents. It's a stick made of metal, with Kevlar wrapped and fixed on both ends. One has to soak them in oil, light them up, and then the show can start! Juggling with fire is beautiful, especially at night. I love the unique sound of the flames turning in the wind.

I haven't had a lot of practise yet, and the garage's ceiling stops me from throwing the staff in the air, but I can see that Arthur is enjoying the show. He doesn't even comment on the dangerousness of the thing. Instead, when I'm finished, he just smiles before saying:

"It's amazing what is possible without magic! Will you teach me?"

And, at his enthusiasm, I find nothing better to do than agreeing even if all I'm asking for is to get rid of him. I show him some basics that I know, but he has to go back home early (so saaaaaaad), and we don't meet any more this summer, much to my relief. I may have been too cold with him, but it's better this way. Seeing that kid again reminds me of the time when I had friends, and it hurts.

oOo

In the end, I only see Arthur again once or twice in the following year. He doesn't have a lot of free time, and I think that his mum wary of me. In addition to that, I do all I can to discourage him. Spending time with him draws out too many old feelings and memories that I don't want to think about. I spend my time working hard on my magic, and do some escapades on Diagon Alley, looking for information that I don't find that could explain my existence. Some nights, I google "Quentin Lemage" or other names from the past. I can find some pictures, some informations. I learn for instance that Quentin got his BAC* with honours. Once or twice, I type his phone number on my cell phone, but I never call him. Nothing tells me he's still living with his parents anyway, and I only know their landline number. And even if he was, it would be insane doing it. I will die again soon, and even without that he wouldn't want me. I finally left his life, the purpose was never to go back to harassing him!

I get very sick once, and find out on this occasion that my Glamours disappear when I'm to weak. Suspicious, I check if they're staying active when I'm asleep, and I discover that's not the case. At first. With time and practise, I manage to stabilize them. As long as I'm healthy, they won't just disappear.

The world around me still doesn't really manage to get to me, I live behind my walls. My joy is never full, as well as my cheerfulness. My pain and my loneliness are. Sometimes I believe I'm finally going insane, by dint of always reliving the past, especially since the thing with the paedophile. My blade in his neck. His hands on me and Arthur. The feeling of the Imperio. A bed with green sheets. Quentin's exhaustion. My father rejecting me. I just want to not be any more. And sometimes, I'm aware of how absurd it is staying locked up like that, trapped in my past. But I'm not able to detach myself from it, and I'm unable to even want it. My apathy turns everything off. I can't feel anything, anything but pain, always, and I drown myself in the monotony of the days. And if only I wasn't so scared to live again, I would have killed myself a second time already. Instead, I'm waiting. I'm waiting to be in Hogwarts. In the wizarding world, maybe I will find answers. I have to, because I can't take it any more. I'm only living to be sure I'll die. If one can call it living when I'm content existing, passively.

oOo

10th of July, 2018. I'm eating with my parents when someone rings the bell. Mrs Winston opens, and comes back pretty fast to get my mother, saying "It's about Vivian...". I'm both worried and curious, I wonder what someone from the outside world wants from me. So few people even know I exist! Then I think, and hope starts growing in me. After all, if I'm going to Hogwarts, it'll be this September. Maybe it has something to do with that, in that case?

My adoptive mother is soon back, looking a bit troubled, accompanied by a nicely clothed woman. She is rather tall, has long black hair pulled into a pony tail, and is about fifty years old. My mother dismisses Mrs Winston while directing us to the living room. I stand up and follow my father who seems unhappy to interrupt his meal. We sit in the armchairs, and I remain slightly aside. I wait for something to happen. The woman doesn't keep us waiting and introduces herself in a calm and patient voice.

"Hello, and thank you for having me. As I quickly explained Mrs Mackson, my name is Alix Aster. I'm Hogwarts' Muggle World Studies teacher. I'm aware it may sound like a joke, but the school, as well as the wizarding world are real. I'm in charge for visiting the muggle-born pupils in order to make their integration in our school easier, and create a link with the families."

My adoptive father confines himself to raising a sceptical eyebrow, and asking:

"And of course, you have the means of proving what you're saying?"

My adoptive mother suppresses a nervous laughter while the teacher quietly draws a wand from her purse and pronounces "Wingardium Leviosa". My dad has a small shocked gasp seeing his favourite armchair discovering the joys of flying, even performing an enthusiastic loop in front of me. Probably taking pity, the teacher doesn't prolong the show, even though I can sense she's amused. She turns towards me, since my parents don't seem capable of expressing any coherent thought at the moment.

"You don't look surprised. Have you already done things like what I did? Or just strange things that nobody else is able to do?"

"Yes, I've already done magic, and by the way I already knew the wizarding world existed. And no, I don't plan on explaining further."

The teacher just stares at me, stunned, and I briefly wonder if I have been too dry. Whatever, I don't care.

The teacher's surprise caused by my revelations and my way of speaking amuses my dad and allows him to recover.

"Alright, I believe you." he says "Don't mind my daughter, she loves putting adults to their place by showing off how smart she is. I'm not even surprised she already knows all of this. And so, you're representing Hogwarts? Like in the books?"

"Indeed." answers the teacher, regaining countenance. "I am to give your daughter her letter, and I will come back in a month to bring her, with other muggle-born students, to buy what she'll need for her studies, if it's fine by you."

While speaking, she searches through her purse and takes out an envelope on which are written my name and address. She gives it to me and I open it without delay.

"Dear Ms Mackson,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. A teacher will accompany you in the wizarding world in order to make your purchases, and you can refer to them for all questions you may have.

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Headmisstress"

I finish reading and an unintended smile escapes me. I did it. I will go to Hogwarts. I will finally have access to useful information, and I will also be able to fly, and try out all the things I wanted to do. I give my mum the letter, who reads it before passing it to my dad. They have questions for the teacher, and she spends quite some time informing and reassuring them. In the end she leaves them a small explanatory leaflet on wizarding world, and assures them that Hogwarts is way less dangerous in real life than in the books. They tell them that there haven't been any dark wizard problem in the United Kingdom since the events described in the books. I'm not sure that it fully reassures my adoptive parents, but they're long resigned not to have any control on my life. So they nod, smiling, still disturbed, and I assure the teacher that I'll be ready to go and get my supplies in a month. I don't show her out, and I avoid my father who would like to speak with me. I don't want to talk, I need to think about next step.

oOo

The month goes by rather fast, and my parents slowly accept magic's existence, and everything it means for them. Mrs Winston is sad to hear that I'll be leaving the house to study elsewhere, but makes a point in telling me multiple times how proud and happy she is that I'll be studying in an elite school, and that I'm socialising. I... I bide my time. And I promise myself that if I haven't found any answer about my second life by the end of my first year in Hogwarts, then I'll kill myself and we'll see what'll happen next.

On the established day, Alix Aster comes back to buy my suplies, and my mother, who took the day off, accompanies us. The teacher doesn't mind, but warns us that my mother will not be able of accessing the wizarding world alone, and shouldn't leave the group under any circumstances. We are in comany of three other muggle-borns, and the father of one of them- a red-haired kid that holds on to his hand as if his life depended on it. I don't talk to anyone and am content enjoying the trip while my adoptive mother quietly speaks wih the teacher, asking her about her job, telling her anectodes about her own. I learn that the teacher is also muggle born, and that she travelled a lot before accepting this job in Hogwarts. She lived in the muggle world, at least she must know what she's talking about in class.

Our first stop is Gringotts, where a bank account is created for each pupil. Since we're muggle-borns, we're all allowed a small scholarship, the exact amount being determined by our needs. My mother instantly adds some more money on my account, and I find myslef better off than the other children. I withdraw more cash than needed, in order to have money for Hogwarts, and my mother lets me do so. She's used to my independance, and trustes me.

After the bank, we go to Ollivander's. After some unsuccesful attempts, a wand reacts postiviely to my presence. As I hear from the merchant, it's made of cypress with dragon heart, and measures twelve and a half inches (screw those British measurements...). It apparently destined me to a heroic death (lol.). It seems that this wand is appropriate for someone with a noble heart who is able to learn fast, but it's also easy to turn to the dark arts. Well, if the dude wanted to scare me, he failed. In any case, I rather like my new wand. I can already feel that it'll answer me even better than the paedophile's.

Once we're done with the wands, we travel from shop to shop without any trouble, and, not counting the teacher, I must be the only one who doesn't look amazed and impressed by everything going on around me. I can't find any opportunity to be on my own in order to make some personal purchases, and it's quite frustrating. Anyway, the visit comes to an end, and the teacher makes us tidy our purchases in our newly bought trunks (which capacity is so huge that if the opening was big enough one could almost fit my room inside). The teacher then miniaturize the trunks for three hours, warning us to let them at a spot with a lot of space for when they'll go back to their normal size, then everyone goes their way. My adpotive mother babbles all the way back about what she has seen, still amazed, and I'm slightly smiling, happy that she enjoyed herself, fully aware of how little joy I'm bringing her.

oOo

While waiting for the start of the term, I read great with interest my school books, skipping only the never-ending ingredient lists in Potions book, and the explanations from the Muggle World Studies book, prefering to first learn the practical things I can fin. I decide that the History of Magic book can wait until I see how many interesting spells I already have to try. I keep on training my magic, without using my new wand, since it's tracked, as I'm officially underaged. I can't wait to be in the wizarding world to try it. Only by holding it into my hand I can feel it channel my power, and sense it better.

The day before school finally begins, and I prepare my things myself. I keep the paedophile's wand on me, and stuff into one of my trunk's drawers- my climbing equipment, my fire staff, my Daily Life spellbook and my favourite notebook. Another drawer welcomes the broom I bought on Diagon Alley a few days ago, which cost me almost all my money. I sleep very poorly that night, feverish and impatient to finally go to Hogwarts. I hope with all my heart that I will finally know why I'm still living. And that I will manage not to murder anyone by then...

xxx

« Et chercher, dans les textes des autres une forme de réconfort. Se chercher des frères, des jumeaux, entremêler son âme à leurs mots et se trouver une famille illusoire dans ce qu'on croit comprendre. Fratrie d'encre plutôt que de sang. Partage tout à la fois effrayant et nécessaire. Vital. Parlons nous la même langue ? Comprenons nous ou bien croyons nous simplement nous comprendre ? Confier absurdement nos secrets au papiers, codés par nos choix de mots, et aspirer à être lu, à être compris. Forts, forts sont ces mots qui nous lient, alors même qu'une goutte d'eau noierait l'encre tout comme un rien peut effacer nos vies. Pour certains, une quête d'immortalité absurde, pour d'autres juste ce besoin d'un jour être compris. Confier son âme à des étrangers, ou au contraire la conserver précieusement pour ne l'offrir qu'à ceux que l'on tient en plus haute confiance, tout en redoutant les repousser. Écrire, toujours. Se diluer dans les mots qui au fond ne pourront pas rendre justice à ce que l'on pense, ressent, et ignore penser et ressentir. Et parfois, par des mots, créer des émotions et des pensées qui transcendent le texte. Écrire, partager et lire. »

"And seek, in other people's texts a kind of comfort. Seeking brothers, twins, intertwine one's soul to their words and find oneself an illusory family in what we believe we understand. Siblings by the ink rather than the blood. Sharing both scary and necessary. Vital. Do we speak the same language? Do we really understand each other or do we simply believe we do? Absurdly confying our secrets to the paper, encoded by our choice of words, and longing to be read, to be understood. Strong, how strong are those words biding us, even though a simple drop of water would blur the ink within an instant as the slightest nothing can erase our lives. For some, an absurd quest for immortality, for others just that need to one day be understood. Confide one's soul to strangers, or to the contrary preciously holding onto it and only offering it to those we hold in highest trust, while dreading to scare them away. Writing, always. Dilute oneself in the words that in the end won't be able to do justice to what we think, feel, and ignore thinking and feeling. And sometimes, through words, create emotions and thoughts transcendenting the text. Write, share and read."

-Extract from a notebook belonging to Aurore Berger and kept by Quentin Lemage after her death-

*BAC : French academic qualification obtained at the end of secondary studies

I am aware that the original name of the subject is "Muggle Studies", but since books and fics are as real as the Wizarding world in my story, it has had an impact on the Wizarding society, and the name changed for "Muggle World Studies", which gives less of a laboratory rats feeling.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review, and stay tuned for the next one (that I already started translated and I really like^^)

See you!