14 ~ You are Special

There was magic in my hands now, but something far older still whispered in my blood.

     No one was in the corridor as I took one step after the other. I was on my way to Dumbledore's office. Since the evening in the Great Hall, another day had passed and the old wizard wanted to see me. It was after midday and the student body of Hogwarts was in lessons.           I was glad about that.     I found people strange, yet the girls in my dormitory were alright. These boys also seemed okay, yet Lily wanted to talk me out of these thoughts. None of it really interested me, however. I still had to understand what was even happening in my life at the moment; I was confused.      Not long ago I had not even known that this world existed at all, and now I was right in the middle of it. Everything was allowed to be too much for me.

"Everyone is allowed to have weaknesses", this voice in my head whispered, "but you must not show them to anyone."     The voice was right as always. I must not show weakness in any form, I would make myself vulnerable. I would have to pretend as if I were coping with this world from the outside.

     For this reason I straightened my shoulders. I had reached the Headmaster's office. As if by itself, the office door sprang open and      I entered the room. Dumbledore was already waiting for me inside. Today he wore a dark purple robe, along with a matching hat. Both were sprinkled with silver stars and as always his half-moon spectacles sat upon his nose.          "I am pleased to see you again, Phil. I do hope that today has gone well?"     I nodded in response to his question, because today I had not done much. I had read a book about magical creatures, which Lily had given me, and had spent the entire morning occupied with it, while the others had been in lessons.      I had opened all the windows in the dormitory and let winter into the room, which had caused the girls problems, however, which I had not understood when they had come before lunch to fetch me.      I had not wanted to go into the inner courtyards of Hogwarts, yet everything had seemed too suffocating to me as well, like a prison. That was why I had opened all the windows. Getting the room warm again with the stove would require several hours, according to the girls.

People are strange.

     "Well then, you are not talkative today, it seems", Dumbledore raised a brow and smiled at me, "I will simply tell you what we are going to do: We are going to Diagon Alley. There are still a few errands to run, and when we return, I would like to give you an introduction to magic. First we will make a visit to Gringotts, the bank of the wizarding world. You most likely appear to possess a vault there."          He came towards me. The Headmaster offered me his forearm and I placed my hand upon it.      Afterwards I heard Fawkes cry out. The phoenix flew around us, as a result my world distorted. Once again I felt as if I were being squeezed through a small opening, and I was glad that I had eaten little today. I still had to gag briefly.     When I opened my eyes, I saw Diagon Alley in daylight. Buildings were everywhere and a few witches and wizards were doing their shopping. Dumbledore naturally attracted attention and I could imagine that he was well known in the wizarding world.           However, he was not addressed, nor did he pay attention to the gazes; his light eyes looked at me.     We stood before a large, snow-white building with a shining bronze gate. The building was so tall that it cast the nearby buildings into shadow - it dominated them.      White stone steps led to the bronze gate, towards which we walked. Next to the gate stood a strange and small creature. Dumbledore could read my question from my face.          "Goblins", he whispered and I nodded.     So I examined the goblin in a scarlet, gold-embroidered uniform, and he greeted us: "Welcome to Gringotts", he said in a strange voice, bowed his head politely.          "Likewise, a pleasant afternoon", Dumbledore replied, afterwards we entered the building. We walked through a silver double door, on which a warning warned those who intended something dishonest that something terrible would happen to them.           I guessed theft or fraud.     Next my eyes looked around a large marble hall. Tall counters were everywhere. Goblins sat there on equally tall stools. Each of them attended to their work and occasionally one of the goblins looked up and examined us both.

Too many impressions...

     Dumbledore moved purposefully towards a bank employee in the last row, who was currently working on papers. We stopped in front of him.      I observed him as he moistened his overly long fingers and turned a parchment page. However, he placed it aside, folded his fingers together upon the table and looked at us. Curiously he examined Dumbledore and me over his curved nose.     "What can I do for the two of you?", he asked in a bored tone and I looked up at him.          "I would like to enquire whether a certain Philomela Aquila owns a vault?", the old wizard asked and immediately the goblin's gaze shot towards me. He leaned forward, examined me from top to bottom. My red hair and the scar on my cheek seemed to interest him particularly.     "What are your parents called?"          "Ethan-"     "Louder!"          "Ethan J. Aquila and Cathrine Young!", I said and he nodded. As a result he jumped from his stool and disappeared into a back room.      What he did, I did not know, yet he soon returned with several parchments and a golden key. He sat back down on the stool, then began to read, while his lips moved silently.           The goblin moistened his lips, then he said: "Indeed, a vault. The one belonging to Cathrine Young was closed a few years ago and in her documents it was stated that her property passes to her daughter Philomela Aquila."     "By whom was the vault closed?", Dumbledore asked immediately. He seemed surprised, yet I could imagine that the wizarding world somehow knew that my mother was no longer alive. Had my father had the vault closed after her death, or her second husband? I did not know.          "This information is not disclosed to third parties", the goblin sighed in a bored manner, then he continued: "The last time a deposit was made into the young lady's vault was five years ago, anonymously."     After these words he nodded again, stamped something and handed me a parchment from the counter.          "Sign", he demanded and I took it from him, as well as a quill. Awkwardly I wrote my name and gave it back to him. He examined my ugly signature with raised brows, jumped down from the stool again and came to stand with short legs in front of Dumbledore and me.          "I may now escort the lady to the vault. Do you wish the wizard to accompany you?", he looked at Dumbledore and I nodded.

I do not want to follow the goblin alone.

     He disappeared after my nod into another marble corridor, with many doors. He strolled with short steps towards a door, opened it.      Dumbledore seemed thoughtful on our way, yet I cared very little who gave me money. Five years ago my mother had still been alive, so it could very well have been her. I did not think of my father, and I also did not believe that he had closed my mother's vault after her death.           It had probably been my mother's second husband, if he had been a wizard at all. I had forgotten much of my childhood, but I could not remember that my mother or anyone else had ever possessed a wand.     In any case, there was not much time left for me to think about it, because when the goblin shooed us through the door, a labyrinth of corridors awaited us behind it. These consisted of bare stone and were lit by blazing torches. The air was cold. Strange rails were set into the tunnels.     A small cart waited there. The goblin wanted us to get in. Dumbledore went first and only because of that did I dare sit down beside him at all. The goblin stood at the back of the cart, then we set off and not slowly.      We practically raced downwards and I almost cried out. We turned off at many junctions and I did not even realise that we were in a large cave system.      The cart passed an underground lake, deep chasms and my stomach was strained once more, yet fortunately we suddenly came to a screeching halt with a jolt. Unconcerned, the goblin climbed down.      I breathed faster.      A little shakily I stood up and followed the bank employee. To my left were many vault doors.           He stopped at vault 347.     "Shall I open it?", he asked and held the key. I answered in the affirmative, because I did not know how to open a vault, and the little man nodded. He took the golden key, opened the vault. The door creaked as it opened and curiously I peered inside.      I recognised many gold coins, counting which would have been impossible. From my earliest memory I did know that there had been no lack of money with us and that my mother had inherited early, however, seeing so much money still did not feel good; I had killed my mother.

"She made you do it, she did not treat you well!", the voice in my head hissed. I wanted it to stop. No, I had killed my mother and she had done me no harm.     "The shackles, Phil, and the-", it came again and I shook my head. I ran a hand through my hair, did not want to think about it.     That was why I merely examined all the money, and when Dumbledore said I should take some and put it into the bag he had brought with him, I simply did it. Mother was dead, and even if I was responsible for it, taking this money would not undo anything.

     After our visit to Gringotts was finished, we still ran a few errands. Dumbledore and I went to Madame Malkin's, where I got my several Hogwarts uniforms, and likewise we went to Twilfitt and Tatting, another clothing shop, where I bought casual clothes. For the time being we first bought the schoolbooks for the first and second years, whereby Dumbledore immediately explained to me what thoughts he had had about my education.      He and other professors would take care of me for the next half year, and I would also stay at Hogwarts in the summer. He would make sure that I could settle into lessons well.      He would let me take my O.W.L.s, some sort of exams, when I was ready. He also explained to me that he had given it thought and would not keep me at Hogwarts for seven years. As a werewolf it was unfortunately difficult to find a profession in the wizarding world anyway, which was why Dumbledore was relieved after the visit to Gringotts that I would probably never run into financial hardship.     So Dumbledore explained to me that he would shorten my education, in relation to subjects, at least with regard to exams. I was supposed to manage to sit my N.E.W.T.s in the seventh year in a few subjects.     During our conversation we came to the conclusion that, for my age and my history, I knew a good deal about Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. In my childhood my mother had taught me a lot about that, and I seemed to remember faintly that she had possessed a cauldron in which she had brewed potions.      Why she had taught me all this, yet kept quiet that magic existed, I did not know. In any case, Dumbledore came to the conclusion that in these three subjects I could use my knowledge in order to learn the Hogwarts material. Yet these words about the future did not interest me much.

     We continued our shopping. When it was after midday, we were back in Dumbledore's office. He magicked my purchases into my dormitory and I had sat down in front of his desk. My wand before me.          "So, Phil", he began, "As a witch, your wand is the most important thing for you, at least after knowledge."     He explained a lot to me about spells and what some of them could do. Afterwards he showed me a spell that one learned right at the beginning at Hogwarts, namely Wingardium Leviosa. A spell that made objects float. Dumbledore explained to me the correct movement, how I best held my wand, then he demonstrated the spell.      He made a book float through the room and I could not believe my eyes. I knew that magic existed, and had already seen a few spells, yet I still could not believe it. A floating book did not fit into my imagination, just as little as moving staircases, living pictures or the ceiling of the Great Hall. All things I would still have to get used to.     After his demonstration Dumbledore placed a feather from Fawkes right under my nose and let me fail.

Utterly...

     I tried it countless times, yet the feather did not move. Towards the end a little breeze seemed to move it, but I had not been capable of more.      The Headmaster explained to me that this was not bad and that I simply had to practise. He also gave me a few tasks, which I was to complete and hand in to certain professors, whom I would get to know in the near future. Dumbledore's lesson today went on until evening and the windows showed that it was already dark outside.          "That is it for today, Phil", Dumbledore said, smiled at me. He stood, with folded hands behind his back, by the window and looked at me, then he continued speaking: "However, today I would still like to introduce you to your Head of House: Minerva McGonagall. She is coming here and will accompany you to the common room. In the near future she will occasionally give you lessons in Transfiguration in the evening.", and before he could say any more, the office door was already swinging open.     A tall, slim and still rather young woman came in, perhaps in her mid-thirties. Her black hair was in a bun at the back of her head and she wore a dark cloak as well as a pointed hat.      The witch had a stern face. Her smile did not change much about that, although it reached her eyes. She introduced herself to me, spoke a little with me and explained to me what one learned in her lessons.           She immediately told me up to which page I should read in the schoolbook until our first lesson, and I listened to her.      After this conversation she went back with me to the common room, first showing me the way to her office. I was however only glad that I saw my bed that evening.

     However, peace was not granted to me.           That night I slept restlessly. I saw countless dream images play out before my inner eye. Some scenes from my childhood, too insignificant for them to reveal more to me than I already knew. I saw our small house in the forest. Most of the time I spent outside in the garden or alone in the forest.     I was a normal child. Mother screamed a lot, however, locked windows and doors. Her second husband screamed a lot as well. I hid in my room.

Again and again.

     I dreamt for so long until I saw myself again on the floor of the corridor. This time from another perspective, as if I were watching myself from above. A little girl, no older than ten or twelve. Naked, covered in blood. Destruction around her. Scraped wallpaper, overturned furniture and vases.          A monster had run riot here.     Werewolves attacked people, hunted them. Even if there was a child inside the werewolf.     Transformed in the forest, yet somehow little Phil had broken into her mother's house.     She was a witch, yet she had died all the same. Only her husband had survived.     I saw how he threw me into the forest, screamed that I should die.          I wanted it, tried it.     But then the voice spoke to me. The next day as well. The whole time this voice spoke to the girl who only wanted to die, yet she did not succeed. The wolves found her, she hid in her little hut.     But a normal child could not survive alone in the forest.          Not for years.     Not with tame wolves that ate raw meat.          Not with the few berries.     Not with the bitter winter.

     A good thing that this child was not normal.          It was special.     That was what the voice told her.