Bird’s eye view
Chapter 3
Bird’s eye view
Harry Potter stood in front of her without even shaking a bit. That was unexpected. He was tough to track down. Clearly, he was a master of evasive maneuvering. She finally managed to pin him down in the corridor next to the astronomy tower. At the same time, he was distracted by the whistling of the pair of armors at the end of the room.
“I hope that I am not interrupting something again?” He asked casually without breaking a sweat.
Indeed, an unexpected reaction. Even Pugsley was startled when she ambushed him in the dark corridors of their home. Harry Potter was either a psychopath or a complete fool. She hopped it former. Truly exciting people were so hard to meet these days. Witches and wizards were fascinating for a few days before she saw the horrendous normality that they all shared. It wasn’t so annoyingly disgusting in comparison to her old schooling environment. However, it was still here. That cheery repellent feeling was everywhere in this dammed castle; her only place of solitude was her room below the Slytherin common room. Not even the bravest of her housemates wanted to venture into the dark underground hall, but for her, it was perfect. It was colder and darker than a morgue and completely silent, the ideal place for concentration on her studies and interests. She had dreamed of it only a few weeks ago, but now it felt empty.
Before Potter, she didn’t know what that emptiness was. He managed to figure it out even before her. The worst thing was she didn’t manage to deny it, even to herself. It was absurd. Her mother and father left her here while hiding many things about her nature. She was furious at them. They always said the family was the greatest treasure on this horrific plane of existence. Now, they left her in this castle beyond the ocean with only a few vague explanations. What was their goal? What did they want from her? And why was she missing them after all of this?
“How did you know?” She asked simply.
Potter seemed to tense up. Did he have some inherent dark ability? Reading minds or something similar? She would love to master something like that.
“I can see when you lie. You stare too intensely and force yourself not to blink.” The knife got closer to his throat.
“That is not true!” She stated.
“Is it? You are doing it right now.”
She took a second to redirect her senses. Most of the time, she didn’t acknowledge muscles. It brought unwanted memories. She felt the tiny tears forming due to her not blinking for an extended period and the focused stare that she gave Potter.
This was the opening that Harry had waited for. But, unfortunately, she was distracted, and he managed to slip away at an entirely surprising speed for someone his age. Wednesday was too confused to give a meaningful chase, so she watched him disappear in the darkness.
She was angry, bewildered, and perhaps a little bit interested. Wednesday wasn’t sure what to make of this conversation. Did he lie? She couldn’t decide if she was irritated or existed about the possibility of another encounter with Potter.
Nevertheless, she had work to do. The slight setback with Potter could be overlooked. He didn’t have any blackmailing potential. Wednesday actually enjoyed detention with Professor Snape. She liked dissecting some poor little animals and extracting potion ingredients from them. Even the professor was astounded at the speed and willingness of Wednesday during her detentions. She probably smiled too much.
She turned back and started to head to the Slytherin basement. After passing by the potions classroom, she stopped. Then, with a flicker of her wand, she opened one of the secret passages and carefully made her way to the untaggable labyrinth that was the Slytherin common hall.
Even though the encounter with Potter could be only considered a minor defeat, she still couldn’t banish the anger from her mind. She needed to know more. However, the feeling wasn’t so deep, and she finally managed to force it out by the time she retreated into her cold bedroom.
Professor Dumbledor’s office was a complete mess and not in a good way. A large circular room full of noises and lights irritated her immensely. However, several curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. They reminded her of her father’s and Pugsley’s mechanical toys, making her simultaneously nostalgic and angry.
“Take a seat, dear. Sorry for the lighting. Writing letters to Cornelius made me forget.” Dumbledor’s voice rang apologetically.
With a flicker of his wand, the windows were closed, and a pleasant darkness overtook the room. Wednesday’s eyes relaxed slightly, but nevertheless, she remained sharp.
“That was completely unnecessary. I have adapted to the horrific cacophony and light pollution that the outside world represents.” She commented dryly.
“You might have, but sometimes it is preferable to have some comfort in your surroundings,” said Dumbledore.
“I try not to get spoiled. They say that shadows breed creatures that cannot escape them, which will be too fortunate for my brother and schoolmates.”
Dumbledore smiled sadly. His eyes flickered with a strange light barely visible in the current environment.
“That is one good goal, Wednesday. Try to remember it for the future. However, don’t try to change only to fit somebody else desires. Come on, take some.” Dumbledore summoned a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans on the table in front of her.
When she first heard that she had mandatory weekly visits to the headmaster as a condition to attend school, she firstly dismissed it as another bleeding-hearth teacher that decided to play at being a psychologist. She burned through them quicker than the psychologists in her former schools. Dumbledore didn’t seem like that, and it terrified her. She was faced with a complete unknown.
Wednesday carefully took one of the beans and looked at it carefully. She didn’t know the full extent of capabilities that the wizards could achieve with alchemy and potion-making, thus making taking candy from a wizard one of the most dangerous things a person could do. That’s why she chewed it slowly and carefully savored it for any traces of poison or any other type of drug. It would have been a pleasant surprise to encounter such a concoction, but the taste startled her.
“Raw liver, hag’s desert. My favorite.” She actually smiled. Uncle Fester had given her the same dessert at her first funeral. Dumbledore took another bean.
“Pineapple, a little bit bland.”
She spent around an hour in the office talking with the old wizard. He asked about her interests, and she answered honestly. He didn’t judge or make disgusted grimaces. He was always impartial and showed interest and making her elaborate on her statement. She came for a challenge but received a conversation. Dumbledore was impossible to anger, and he didn’t make any insulting remarks about her. It was a little bit infuriating. However, she didn’t mind. Nevertheless, one question without an answer bothered her the entire time.
“Why are you doing this? What kind of test is this?” She finally asked.
“You have a perceptive mind, dear Wednesday.” He looked directly into her eyes. She did not blink or look away. “I hope it will be enough to get you through the path that you are going through.”
“And what is that path?”
“You will understand in time and in small steps. But, firstly, you need to master the mid-arts. And to start teaching that intricate branch of magic, I need your full consent.”
“That is hard to give it when I don't know why I must do it and what it would require. I do not plan to go insane before reaching twenty. After that milestone, it is fair game.”
“Do you remember what happened on the day when your parents told you that you would be attending Hogwarts? This…thing could have killed everyone around you, including everyone you loved. Your brother, mother, father, and uncle could have been destroyed because of you.”
“And you think that some complicated set of spells could prevent that? This sounds as probabilistic as the uncounted number of lazy psychiatrist shoving drugs into the throats of unruly children in the hope of “saving” them from their nature. In the last century, they at least gave them lobotomy. Now, it is only slow poison.”
“My dear, you misunderstand. I am not going to teach any spells here. While spells are a valuable tool, the mind arts are just as important, if not more so. You see, the mind is powerful and can be just as dangerous as any spell, potion, or runecraft. By learning the mind arts, you'll be able to protect yourself physically and mentally. What I am offering to you is to teach you how to transform your mind into an impregnable structured fortress that will not crack under the weight of any of your future gifts. Be aware you have the full right to refuse it. However, if you do that, there is the possibility that whatever happened then could happen in the future.”
“From your own description, I sound like some dangerous uncontrolled bomb. While I appreciate the compliment, what is my guarantee that I will not become just a controlled one under someone else arsenal?” Wednesday inquired, staring straight into the eyes of the old wizard.
“I failed someone close to me who was the same as you. I was selfish and realized my mistake only when I lost her and doomed many people to fate worse than death. I thought it was for the greater good, but there is no sacrifice that is too great and no treachery that is too small. And I swear to you, my dear. I will do everything in my power to help you and you alone to control your inherent abilities. However, I do not promise that I will be successful. Everything depends on you.”
At that moment, she saw beyond the kind facade that the old man had built around himself. In front of her stood an ancient and wise wizard who had overcome countless hardships and conflicts and somehow managed to overcome them all. She inwardly smiled. That was a real challenge and a genuine opportunity.
“Of course, as time progresses, you will have other teachers than me. If everything goes well, you will meet Professor Trelawney next and then….”
The hour was late, and Wednesday was again restrained to her favorite activity - sneaking through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, trying not to be seen. Unfortunately, this activity had become increasingly dull after Filch caught himself in her trap. However, avoiding other students was still nevertheless a good practice for future occasions. Nobody was born perfect, and she needed more training.
A loud boyish scream pierced her ears. She immediately recognized the voice of Longbottom, and when she focused on the plethora of loud sounds coming from the long corridor behind her, she distinguished the voice of one of Malfoys goons - Vincent Crabbe. She inhaled deeply. Unable to banish the similarity between the buffoonish Gryffindor and her brother, she quickly made her way to the point of origin of the scream.
It looked like Crabbe had taken one of Longbottom's poorly written transfiguration essays. Yet, amazingly, the Gryffindor boy looked like he put up a decent fight to take back his homework before being overpowered by her poor excuse of a housemate and thrown on the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Petrificus Totalus.” She cast the full body-bind curse on Crabbe, and soon enough, the Slytherin fell on the floor like a marble statue.
Wednesday was beyond bored. That imbecile didn't even try to shield himself from direct spellfire. Maybe her thorough exploration of the syllabus had given her an unfair advantage against her fellow first-years. Ambushing older students may be more challenging and fun, she mused.
Longbottom screeched when she appeared from the shadows. She picked the parchment from the frozen body on the floor, read a few lines, and threw it in the legs of the terrified Gryffindor.
“You are a disappointment to wizardkind Longbottom. Don't try to use your fists when your opponent has a wand, and review the Gamp's third law of transfiguration, for Merlin's sake. McGonagall doesn't need to suffer more from basic mistakes from first-years pitiful attempts at essay writing.” She scolded and walked by the equally embarrassed and scared Longbottom.
“Thank you, Wednesday.” A voice whispered right beside her.
It took all of her mental discipline not to jump in the air out of surprise. Harry Potter had been right beside her and now was helping Longbottom to get up.
How silent is he?
She thought in pure shock.
“Come on, Neville. We were getting worried about you in the common room. I thought that you had forgotten the password again.”
“I did,” Neville confessed.
Wednesday observed as the two boys started to make their way back to their common room. And Harry Potter threw a glance at her. She saw comprehension and …gratefulness?
Wednesday didn't like to be confused, and Potter had the annoying ability to do that successfully. She needed to investigate the matter further…