solarpunk-gnome - Tumblr blog

solarpunk-gnome · 4 days ago

Text

Homework

My attempt at representation in the Potterverse.

The Forbidden Forest was, as she knew, well out-of-bounds for 4th years.

It was actually out-of-bounds for all students – hence the title “Forbidden” – but here she was, wandering the perimeter of the forest while the rest of Hogwarts slept.

Given that the Triwizard Tournament was underway, she had worried that there might have been teachers out patrolling the frozen grounds, but she seemed to be the only one slinking through tonight’s shadows. She had given Hagrid’s hut a wide berth, not knowing if Professor Grubbly-Plank had gotten rid of the enormous groundskeeper’s horrible skrewts, or if she was keeping them somewhere nearby in the event that he came back to teach.

It was because of the substitute instructor for Care of Magical Creatures that she was out here, now. It had been a few nights since it had snowed, but she could remember the brilliant white of the unicorn’s coat against the piled drifts, and how the snow had seemed dull in comparison. Professor Grubbly-Plank had warned the boys to keep back when the unicorn had first appeared, then ushered the girls forward. She had ached to join them, to prove herself to her classmates, but the fierce look from Grubbly-Plank, paired with the knowing side-eyes from Terry Boot and Michael Corner had kept her rooted. She had watched the other girls fuss over the magnificent animal with a yearning that bordered on tidal in its immensity.

And that was why she was here, breaking half-a-dozen school rules. She wanted – needed – to prove it to the others, to herself, that she was who she knew she was.

The depth of the snow lessened as she pushed forward into the forest, but if anything, the roots and loose debris underfoot made her progress even more awkward. When she was far enough in for the trees to block the light, she pulled her wand from her robe and whispered “Lumos”.

It took a little longer than usual, perhaps because of her shaking hands, but a soft light bloomed at the tip of her wand, illuminating the twisted branches and knotgrass surrounding her. Her breath hung in the air, a pale cloud.

She shivered. “This was such a dumb idea.”

Winter wind sighed through the gnarled sycamores and ferns, the eerie keening reminding her of all the terrible stories she had heard about this place; giant spiders, tribes of feral centaurs, vampires. A cursed Ford Anglia, whatever that was. Given the black, ominous shadows cast by her wand, she was only too ready to believe all of them. She wanted to get this over with quickly, but to do that, she had to go deeper into the forest. “Such a dumb idea.”

The shadows deepened as she pushed forward, and the scuttling sounds she swore she could hear just outside the range of her wand-light kept her head swiveling like Professor Moody’s eye. Panic threatened to tangle her legs, but the growing fear she felt was tempered by her all-encompassing desire to prove herself.

She stopped in a wide clearing, drawing in a deep breath. She tried not to consider what might happen if the unicorn didn’t see what she felt. Her fellow students had teased her relentlessly, but she didn’t think anyone actually saw her aside from Luna. Would it hurt her if she were wrong?

Luna had been the one to help her work out the charm, to make tonight’s gamble even remotely possible. Luna had offered to come, too, but the very real chance of failure made that offer too dispiriting.

She gripped her wand tighter, and tried to shake the shivers from her arms. Now came the truly scary part. She couldn’t work the lure charm while her wand was maintaining the light, which meant she was going to have to stand in the darkness of the deep forest until the unicorn found her. She took one more deep breath, then whispered “Nox”.

Her surroundings were instantly plunged into absolute darkness. There had been a half-moon that had guided her over the grounds of Hogwarts, but that light didn’t pierce the Forbidden Forest’s canopy. The urge to re-light her wand was almost overwhelming. Instead, she raised it over her head, and spoke as clearly as she could manage, “Inlecebra unicorn.”

Faint rings of violet light began to radiate from her wand, spreading out into the forest. It had taken nearly all of last night and the night before, but after hours of trying, she had finally managed to attract the attention of Mrs. Norris with the charm, having adapted it for cats. Hopefully, now that she had the hang of it, it would work faster for unicorns.

It did.

Not five minutes had passed when she heard the gentle clop of hooves through the trees. For a second, she worried she might have been drawing a centaur to her, but the steps were just too… graceful.

Pale light drifted through the tangle of trees to her side, coming from the same direction of the hoof beats. She gripped her wand, lowering it to her waist. The light grew, and within seconds the unicorn stepped into the clearing.

It was somehow even more lovely than before; blue-white light radiating from its pearlescent horn, reflecting across its immaculate coat. Golden hooves, a remnant from its younger days, gleamed in the horn’s illumination. It tossed its head, and a silken curtain flowed down across its powerful neck. Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart broke.

Her concentration obliterated, the lure charm ceased its draw on the unicorn. It halted, and flared its nostrils, but then took another step forward. Her eyes tightened, and she could feel the prickle of tears beginning. “I…” She let her wand hand fall. “You’re beautiful.”

The unicorn whickered, and took another step. Before she realized it, she was inching forward as well. Its eyes were a perfect, crystal blue, and looking into them she wondered if this wasn’t what the unicorn had felt under her Inlecebra charm. She lifted a shaking hand towards its muzzle.

“Elias, stop!”

She froze, and the unicorn flinched, shifting its weight backward. The voice that had called out was not hard to recognize. She had heard it with increasing frequency this year, with the Triwizard Tournament in full swing. Her heart sank, and she turned slowly to face the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Professor Dumbledore held his wand out to his side, the light streaming from it far brighter than the Lumos charm she had cast. He peered down at her over his half-moon spectacles, his expression unreadable. She tried to convince herself it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that he knew her name.

“How… how did you find me?”

Dumbledore frowned, but when he spoke his tone was gentle. “As headmaster, I have certain responsibilities. There have been… mishaps with the unicorns of this forest before. The possibility of one being lured into danger again was particularly concerning to me.”

She grimaced. He’d sensed the charm somehow and had come running, and now she’d never know, and it would be a million points from Ravenclaw, and her housemates would hate her – the freak – even more, and she’d never have any proof.

“Imagine my surprise when I come to find it’s one of my students who has decided to put himself in harm’s way.” He smiled kindly. “Surely Professor Grubbly-Plank informed you of the unicorn’s preference to witches over wizards?”

She grimaced, and the tears that had threatened before spilled freely down her cheeks. “I am a witch,” she muttered, her face burning.

Dumbledore sighed and ran a long-fingered hand down the length of his beard. “Elias– ” he began.

“Did you know–” she said, surprised to find herself speaking over Dumbledore. “Did you know that the sorting hat talks to you? It talks to you, sometimes when it’s sorting you?”

Dumbledore nodded.

“Not everyone,” she continued. “I asked, and it doesn’t talk to everyone, but it talked to me.” She could hear the unicorn behind her, its hooves crunching ancient, fallen leaves. She had a sudden desire for it to ram its horn through her heart.

“What did it say to you?” Dumbledore asked.

She rubbed a hand across her cheek, wiping at frozen tears. Her eyes flashed up to meet the Headmaster’s but then returned to the forest floor. “It told me… it told me I was clever enough for Ravenclaw…” The tears started again, and it was nearly half-a-minute before she could speak. “But then it said that girls like me often had to be brave, and that I was brave enough for Hufflepuff.” She looked up again at Dumbledore, locking eyes with him. “Girls. Like. Me!”

To her surprise, it was the Headmaster who looked away first. She wiped at her cheeks again, wishing she had thought to bring a handkerchief. “I mean, I always knew, but it felt like then – then I knew.”

Dumbledore’s shoulders sagged. “Professor McGonagall told me she was worried you were trying to find a way into the girl’s dorm, or restrooms…”

She snorted, and regretted it immediately. She wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her robes. “I tried to explain it to her. I was just hoping there was a way to maybe transfigure myself… I just want to look like I should.”

Dumbledore’s smile seemed to turn brittle. “You’ve spoken to most of the professors, it seems. They’ve all come to me with concerns.”

“Did any of them say they believed me?” It was hard to keep the bitterness from her voice.

“You’re a good student, well-liked by the staff.” He spread his hands. “There was worry about hexes, enchantments. Curses.”

She shook her head. “Or me trying to sneak into the girls’ rooms.”

“You have to understand, Elias.” Dumbledore said. “None of them have had any experience with anything like this before. It’s hard to find any other reason that makes sense to them.”

She closed her eyes. “Do you believe me?”

Dumbledore shifted his feet, and glanced up at the limb-strewn sky overhead. It was a moment before he answered. “I do.”

She felt a sudden thrill go through her. “You do?”

The tall wizard nodded. “I read the muggle papers. Your situation is rare among them, but not unheard of.”

The muggles? Was this a muggle thing? Maybe Luna was right, and she should have spoken about it with Hermione. But she wouldn’t need Hermione now, or have to try to talk to the terrifying Snape about transforming potions, not when Dumbledore –Dumbledore– believed her! “Then- then you can help me?” she whispered. “You can tell everyone I’m not lying? That I’m not crazy?” Her heart soared. “You can help me change?”

The Headmaster’s brittle smile shattered, and Dumbledore looked away from her again.

Cold started to steal its way back into her heart. “Professor?”

Dumbledore’s response was quiet, and she could feel the heavy regret it held. “With all my heart, I wish I could. But I could not do so without involving your parents, or the school governors, or possibly the Ministry of Magic. The negative attention this would receive would prove catastrophic to an already perilous situation.”

She blinked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

His mouth twisted, as if he had just found the earwax bean in his package of Bernie Bot’s. “The timing… I’ve pushed things too far with the Ministry and the Board already, and my position as Headmaster is hanging by a thread, Elias. It would take little less than a breath in the wrong direction for them to remove me from Hogwarts and none of us can afford that at this point in time. Too much has been set in motion, too many sacrifices have been made already.”

She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “But, you’ve hired werewolves, half-giants! There are people who say Professor Snape was a Death Eater! The Head of my own house is a half-goblin! You help muggles, you… you help everyone. And - and you don’t care what people think!”

“I wish that were true, Elias. But right now I have to care.” The Headmaster looked as miserable as she had ever seen him. “I flatter myself, but I really do believe that my positioning at this time is vital to the defeat of Voldemort! If I were to be removed now it could spell the end of the Wizarding world.”

She stared out numbly into the cold night air. “Every day is the end of the world for somebody, Professor.”

Dumbledore’s nod was barely perceptible.

She felt like screaming, but she could hear the unicorn shifting nervously behind her. Instead, her tone was plaintive, almost pleading. “If you believe me then why don’t you help me? You’re the most powerful wizard in the world!”

“Even my power has its limits. I have to work so carefully within the limits that have been set for me.” He paused, seeming to weigh something, then continued. “For all that I can do, not even I get to be who I want to be. Our world just isn’t ready.”

She flung her arms up. “But isn’t that your job? As a teacher? As a professor? As a grown-up? Aren’t you supposed to make us ready for the world, and make the world ready for us?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were all the answer she needed. “Please believe me. I’m trying.”

She wanted to say more, but she knew there was no use. What was the phrase she had learned in Bagshot’s History book about Muggle-born wizards, during the war? “Politically inexpedient”? She nodded her understanding.

Dumbledore started to move towards her. “If you could just give us a year or two, until everything with Voldemort is settled…”

She made a sound that approached laughter but had nothing at all to do with joy. “I can’t wait. I’m dying now.”

And with that she turned, holding her hand out to the unicorn. Dumbledore’s eyes shot open wide and he raised his wand. “Elias, no!”

She had closed her eyes, expecting the nacreous, spiraling horn to slam through her chest, but instead, she felt warm breath against her cheek. The unicorn nuzzled her neck, pushing against her affectionately. She laughed, and cried, and laughed again. The bits of her broken heart melted, and reshaped themselves into something strange, something new.

“I’ll come back to school tomorrow,” she said, without pulling away from the unicorn. “I’ll pack up my things and you can have my wand. Maybe the muggles can help me.”

Dumbledore sounded stricken. “Elias, there are other options, if you could just–”

For the second time in one night, she cut her Headmaster off. “I’m staying here tonight.” She felt the unicorn’s ear flick, and she put her arms around its neck. “Tonight I finally am who I am, and I can't– I won’t go back to being anything else. I’m sorry you’re too important to get to be who you want to be, but I guess that’s the good thing about being nothing.”

She let go of the unicorn, and turned to face the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. She was surprised to find tears in his eyes. She was even more surprised to find she felt sorry for him. She walked around to the side of the unicorn, and it knelt gracefully in the snow, allowing her to slip onto its back. The unicorn stood, and she gave Dumbledore a smile, and for the first time in years, it felt honest. “When you’re nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Elias,” Dumbledore said. “You’re not nothing.”

She ran a hand along the velvet smooth mane in front of her. “Please don’t call me Elias.”

Dumbledore offered his own weak, apologetic smile. “Miss Clarke, then. I wish things could be different for you. For us.”

She nodded, and slipped her wand back into her robe. “Me, too.” When she looked back up, Dumbledore was gone. She wondered if she would see him again before she left in the morning.

She let out a long breath then, one she had been holding for fourteen years. The cloud of it drifted around the glowing horn, tiny motes of light dancing through its center. She patted the unicorn, a proof she had always wanted but suddenly realized she had never really needed. She gave smiling a try again, and decided it was something she liked.

“Show me this forest, please,” she said. “I want to see something forbidden.”

The unicorn turned and trundled through the trees, its light fading from the clearing until only perfect darkness remained.

134 notes · View notes