The Fireplace in the Drawing Room
Friday, the twenty-third of January was the day the Champagne family would travel to Wales, taking a flight there and getting a hotel in the neighborhood.
Nolan Champagne called around for a real estate company to figure out if they could buy from ‘The Fireplace in the Drawing Room’, they all hung up thinking it was a prank call. He decided to book showings for other neighborhoods and for some houses that were listed in the neighborhood near Castell Coch, just in case Helena’s Haven didn’t exist. Which given Nerine’s track record, was a fifty-fifty chance.
Letha was thrilled, she was her lively self again, she even made Nerine excited a few times about the trip on their way to the airport. Nerine was excited on her own about it, but only for Helena’s Haven. She insisted they go there first and that she wouldn’t want to wait for it any longer than the plane ride there. On their way, Letha quizzed Nerine in English with flashcards and pointing to objects.
She was excited for her daughter to start a new life, even if Nerine didn’t fully comprehend what moving to another country and another language would mean for her future. A blank slate in a whimsical land, one that Letha was so nostalgic for.
“And what do you say when asking for a cup of water on the plane?” Letha was holding Nerine’s hand and had been asking various scenario questions as they walked through the airport.
Nerine felt like she knew enough English already, that she could answer any question. She was glad that her mother was so excited for her, but annoyed at how much she felt like she was being babied.
“I know how to ask a question, mom.”
Nerine wanted to go on the trip, in fact, she was probably just as excited as her mother, however, she couldn’t hide her disappointment at the fact she was taken away from school during her birthday. She loved going to school on her birthday.
Everyone was always so excited for you, an excuse to beg the teacher for an extra treat or rambunctiously sing to take away time from studies. Last year, Lucy Heppingston brought her a cupcake, Nerine barely knew the girl. Callum Laurant, the boy everyone had a crush on, talked to her yesterday when he found out, asking if she was having a party.
Not being at school during her birthday didn’t stop Nerine from asking her mother for a birthday party, where she would invite Callum, and Lucy as a matter of fact, and why not everyone in the grade. The idea of thirty kids in the house scared Letha off and she was having a book club that Saturday when they got back. Letha would tell her daughter that times were changing, they were moving, and it was best to have a smaller birthday party with family.
Not having a birthday party with her classmates, not being able to speak her own language with her parents, and taking a vacation to the drabbbiest place in all of Europe was sending Nerine over the edge in disappointment.
Still, she trudged onto the airport terminal, her hand inside her mother’s, her father guiding them ahead looking at something on his phone, and the airport ambiance surrounding them.
When they finally got inside the plane and tucked everything away, Nerine sat in a window seat, gazing at the concrete below, waiting for the flight to be ready and for everyone to board.
Her parents had to sit in random seats around the plane since her father hadn't booked the flight in advance. Nerine noticed that there was an empty seat between herself and a woman who seemed to be her mother’s age. She was hopeful that no one would sit between them and they’d have some extra breathing room, but just when she finally believed that no one would, that the person who held that seat wasn’t coming, a short man with a cane wobbled over to the spot, excusing himself between the woman’s legs and the seat ahead.
He wasn’t just short, he was tiny, if elven dwarfs were real she would have believed he was one. Even his ears were unusually pointy. He had a graying long mustache, and glasses, and wore a business suit. He didn’t have a carry-on and looked almost like he found himself walking into the plane unintentionally. He kind of looked around and put his hands on his lap like we were members of a book club and this was his first time joining.
Nerine tried acting like she didn’t notice him because he looked so expectant of an interaction, but Nerine failed when he tapped her shoulder, pulling her from her view of the landing strip. Nerine pulled out her ear plug, the pop song abruptly ending.
“Hello miss, I came here to deliver this.” He said, and she noticed he had pulled out a letter from his suit pocket.
It looked large compared to his jacket and hand, this made her on edge. A strange small, older man was offering her a letter on a public flight. She was afraid to speak but knew she had to in order to appease his bit.
“What? From who?” she asked, not taking the letter from his outstretched hand.
The woman that sat next to him leaned over, looking at him and his letter.
In the man’s palm, the letter showed the front-facing side that had black lettering addressed to her name and address. When he flipped it, there was a bright red wax seal below a black printed stamp of a crest that read “Hogwarts”.
The woman who sat next to the man stepped into the conversation.
“Is he bothering you? Do you know him?” she said.
“I don’t know him, but I-” before Nerine could decide if she believed he was a bother or not, before she could choose whether or not she needed to stand up for herself, the elfish man sighed and pulled out a dark brown stick, it looked almost longer than his arm. He turned his body slightly towards her, his neck looked immovable, and tapped the air with it.
The woman slowly turned back and started looking at her phone, her face looked confused as she started rapidly scrolling. It was like she forgot something, right at the tip of her mind, and thought she would find the answers on her device. She ignored Nerine and the small man for the rest of the flight.
“I usually don’t have to do that, these days I’m kind of sloppy with these things. I couldn’t even figure out how to get on the plane, all the muggle talking and instruction. I think I’m just too old for it.” he talked like she wasn’t there like it was all rhetorical.
“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nerine started to fear for her safety, scooting up towards the airplane window, and wondering if he was on drugs.
“Open the letter, it should explain to you why I am here, just do that and maybe you’ll believe me more when I tell it to you.”
“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. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Filius Flitwick
Deputy Headminister”
On the back was a list of outlandish books and supplies, things about magic, cauldrons, beasts, and wands.
“My name is Flitwick, I'm a wizarding professor, and the Deputy Headminister from Hogwarts,” He pointed at his signature on the letter. “and you're a witch,” he talked really fast and with a somewhat high pitch, “I was forced to use a tracking charm to find you, you’ll find it very useful, you can learn it, you see, at the school.”
The woman now had headphones on and was scrolling through movies on the screen on the seat ahead.
“You’ll get supplies at Diagon Alley, it is always a blast showing young folk that place.”
Nerine didn’t say anything, she contemplated his words, even though they were outlandish. She had found the new neighborhood in the magazine, that was why she was here in the first place. She remembered the mirror world she stepped into as a child, she had always debated how it had happened if it had happened.
The police and A&E visit was what she worried about more back then. The lock in the car she willed to hold and the ice cream bowl she wished would be full again. It had always felt so wrong, she had done things she wasn’t supposed to. She never thought about how or why it happened, just assumed anyone could if they were selfish or greedy enough, which made her feel guiltier.
Now, a stranger knows about it and has come to confront her. He will take her away from her family and friends, from her birthday party, and from her home. This should have scared her and had her yelling for someone to help, but Flitwick made her feel like it was a good thing, and the idea of having authorities or adults involved scared her more. Authority, police, panic, she has tried to avoid it.
“Will I be able to say goodbye?” She asked.
“Goodbye? Goodbye to who?”
She looked at him with panic, were those the types of kids that went to the school? The kids with troubled families and the orphans who always had the police called on them, all made sense.
“There is no need to say goodbye, yes you will be away from home during school, but you will be back in the summer. I believe it's like any other old muggle secondary school.”
She started to realize how flawed her logic was, she had come to the wrong conclusion. That was when the announcements started playing, they went over safety and showed a video on our screens.
When it ended he continued talking, “We’ll tell your parents, go to Diagon Ally, get your supplies, and you’ll have the whole summer to be with your friends and family then you’ll meet new ones at Hogwarts,” He paused before looking around aimlessly, then continued. “Where are you going anyways?”
“We are moving,” Nerine said, “I saw a magazine article for Helena’s Haven, are you from the United Kingdom?” She wondered if he had known the neighborhood, cause it seemed no one else did.
As she said it, his eyes went wide, “Why yes, yes I am. Curious, you speak magnificent English. I thought you were here for vacation. Helena’s Haven, how on earth did you hear of it?”
This surprised Nerine, he knew the place, but no one else did. She supposed it shouldn’t have surprised her though, with all the other things he knows about her.
“It was in a magazine, but I guess you would know more about how it appeared to me. My family hadn’t seen it ever and then I decided to look in the magazine and I found it, a fresh page, advertising the neighborhood,” she said.
“Amazing, your magical signature must be strong, it was enchanted to be visible for wizards. Truly you should be so proud, Helena’s Haven is wonderful. The backstory is more tragic than wonderful I will tell you though, very horrible what happened I think.” He looked off, it felt like he wanted to explain it, but held himself back to be polite.
“Tell me.” She said.
Eagerly, Flitwick turned and started to tell the story of Helena’s Haven. “Hogwarts has four houses,” he said.
He grabbed the letter and held it up, pointing at the crest that was stamped at the top. That was when Nerine noticed his unusually long fingernails.
“Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw,” Nerine held back from smiling at the silly names, instead she made a face that suggested to Flitwick some doubt.
“Oh I know, you are used to those sterile names of your parents' world, it takes getting used to I’ve noticed with muggle-borns.”
Nerine had gotten more used to Flitwick’s presence and more aware of his strange vocabulary.
“What do you mean by muggle?” she questioned.
“Right, I always forget, muggles are humans without magic, it's what we call them. Anyhow, I am head of the Ravenclaw house at Hogwarts and have been for the longest. Before me and many other generations, Ruina Ravenclaw founded the house along with her colleagues Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. They all had their own house relic, a sword, a cup, and a locket, and Ruina had a diadem. They said whoever wore the diadem was granted wisdom, very powerful. Well, Ruina Ravenclaw possessed this diadem until Helena, her daughter, took it for herself one night. Ruina grew ill and despite her daughter stealing her prized possession and running off with it, she wanted to see her daughter before she died. Ruina sent a man who loved Helena to bring her back. When Helena refused, he killed her. When he realized what he had done, he killed himself.”
“That’s so sad.” was all Nerine could bring herself to say.
“Yes, I think she is one of the most overlooked ghosts at Hogwarts, every day she mourns her lost life in the halls. Ghosts don’t change much though, nothing we can do. But as a Ravenclaw myself, Helena’s Haven is an enchanting place, named in her memory.”
“There are ghosts in the school? Isn’t that scary?” she wondered.
“Maybe it would be scary if we didn’t know them all so well, oh but that is how it is, not knowing is the scariest thing isn’t it?”
Nerine brushed over this, nodding slowly. “So if my parents could only see it when I showed them… and its history you talk about… is the neighborhood for wizarding people only?”
The captain’s announcement started as she quickly finished her sentence. Flitwick continued when it was over.
“I don’t like to guess a new student's house before they are sorted, but I really do think you could be a great addition to Ravenclaw with your curiosity.” he said, “I can bring you and your parents there now, skip this muggle transportation. I think it would be best if I introduced you to it, otherwise you may be ostracized. Listen when I say some wizarding kinds are not so fond of muggle-borns.”
“I am muggle born…” she said as a kind of confirmation, an understanding of his words.
“Yes, but I can apparate your family there, the fireplace under the drawing room.” When Nerine gave him a blank stare he rephrased, “Oh what’s the word… teleport, it's a teleportation skill wizarding kind can do.”
Her eyes lit up, it was all becoming real again. She was talking to a tiny wizard man about a wizarding school, ghosts, and magically hidden neighborhoods. Now he was suggesting he could teleport her there, and the plane started moving.
“Don’t worry I’ll clean up the loose ends,” he kind of turned in a gesture to the woman that sat next to them, blankly staring at an action movie that played. “We should get going before we get in the air, it will make it easier…” he paused and looked around again. I can also summon your luggage, maybe you have a picture of it on your muggle device? It might make it easier.”
She didn't, who would have a picture of their luggage? She then thought of the picture her mother had a stranger take of her family before they checked in their luggage in front of the airport.
“Okay I do, but I’ll only be able to show you when we are off the plane.”
“No problem,” he held open his hand, his long fingers and nails made her question things again in her mind.
The most shocking thing about being a witch was that she was not shocked at all. She had guessed about what she did, but she guessed wrong. She knew about it but didn’t understand it. How could she have not realized the importance of her abilities? How could she have not done more about it? How could she have been so ignorant?
The next thing she knew, she was hurling and crouched down on the grass. The moment before came to her then, like her memory had to catch up with what had happened. She was being squeezed and stretched. She was put on a medieval pulley that traveled with the g forces of a rocket and at the speed of light. It was worse than any rollercoaster she had been on. It was space travel, it was teleportation. She couldn’t move and no one, nothing helped her until she heard a crack near her body.
Then someone else was hurling, and gasping, it was her father. She tilted her head up to look in that direction, it was weird to see him this way, sprawled out on the ground. She felt bad and crawled over, it was her fault, why did she think this was a good idea? That man wasn’t a wizard, he was a demon.
“Dad, Dad It’s me, are you okay?”
He grunted, his head resting fully face-planted into the untamed grass. They were in a forest of some sort.
“What was that.” He croaked, his hands moved from either side of his body and to his head, and he twisted to the side. Some of his hurl was still on his face, he wiped it off as he tried to sit up with the back of his hand. Nerine noticed his sick on the leaves, it was their breakfast. It made her want to hurl again.
She was distracted by another crack, too dizzy to turn her head to the sound behind her she opted to look at her father’s expression, it widened with what she thought looked like relief.
“Nerine!” It was her mother’s voice, she could hear her running up from behind, and then she put her arm around Nerine’s hunched-over frame and kneeled down with her. While Letha and Nerine were hunched over on their knees, Nolan still lay on his side.
Letha looked at his sprawled frame and said, “C’est un gobelin qui nous a emmenés ici,” (It was a goblin who took us here), the first time Nerine heard her speak French in probably a week.
“Les gobelins n'existent pas,”(Goblins don’t exist) Nolan replied, before vomiting again, luckily having enough premonition to turn away from us.
Another crack sounded, this time in front of Nerine and behind Mr. Champagne. It was Flitwick, Nerine feared him more now than she did on the plane, but she decided not to show it.
“Hello, why have you brought us here,” Letha asked, she stood up and dusted off her clothes. She looked and sounded more excited than anything, which shocked Nerine. Her mother was acting so fearless and almost childlike. It was like Peter just took her to Neverland.
“I gave your daughter a letter on the plane,” Flitwick said, she should have it in her jacket pocket.
Nerine didn’t remember putting it there, but still tapped around to feel for the letter. Sure enough, it was in her right side jacket pocket.
“She is a witch and should be attending Hogwarts in the fall.”
As Nerine pulled out the letter, her mother took it in her hands and started to read it.
“Hog what?” Nolan exasperated.
“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Flitwick explained, “Everything you need to know to get her there should be in the letter.”
“Where are we?” Nerine asked the goblin.
“Oh Nerine here told me y’all were heading to Helena’s Haven so I saved you the travels.” he started waddling away, his cane striking the forest floor with a rhythm.
Nerine started to push herself off the ground, the dizziness started to fade.
“Honey, get up, come on,” Letha said, she walked toward her husband and grabbed his arm, pulling him up.
“I can’t,” he moaned, sounding like he was on the brink of death.
“Oh heavens,” Flitwick said before turning around and pointing his stick, or wand, at Mr. Champagne. There was a faint flash of light and he started to cough and blink.
“Anti-nausea you should be fine now, come on I have to introduce you to some of your new neighbors,” Flitwick said before turning again and walking towards a lighter clearing in the forest.