Lessons Learned
Lessons Learned
Dusty bookshelves as walls, a worn out green velvet chesterfield, dusty dark red curtains that blocked out the sunlight from the bay window behind the couch. I used to think this library was cozy. Now it haunts me. The memories played out like a movie in front of me. The day I got my wand, when my brother and I were goofing off before breakfast. Or the times when he found me curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and a book in my sleeping hands, and would carry me to bed upstairs. Perhaps the times when I was a younger girl, when my mom would braid my hair as I rambled on about the new things I learned from my brother's old school books. I can not forget the dark times either. My father teaching us how to block out the pain from the cruciatus curse, how to strengthen our willpower to stop following the commands of the imperius curse, or how to use legilimency and occlumency to our advantage. I still remember the pain from the first time he beat me for breaking the vase that used to sit on the end table to the left of the couch. My mother could not do anything to help us, she never could. She would feel his wrath more so then we did. They were an arranged marriage, and they despised one another.
They were granted an escape through death. I was not so lucky. My brother, who was the pride and first born of the family, Newt, died the second last week of his seventh year. I was allowed to stay for the last two weeks of school since I had no one to watch me, and I could not watch myself; I was eleven after all. My mom, Lillian, was going on a business trip. She was a magizoologist and was researching some more things. I would be going to school the next year since my birthday is October 31st so it would be a good time to explore the school a bit before the other students. My brother was practicing quidditch in a thunderstorm when I was there, and I went out to watch him. Most of the other students had head back in after the first crack of lighting shot across the sky. Not my brother though, he was a seeker and he refused to stop chasing the snitch because of the storm. I watched as he flew higher and higher into the clouds, until I could not see him anymore. There were maybe a few of his teammates still there, and they were shouting for him to come back. A bolt of light shot across the sky this time instead of a flash, and I caught sight of my brother once more. Unconscious. Plummeting, to the ground. They tried to catch him, but were too slow. My brother was now everywhere.
We held his funeral a week after school ended.
My father acted as if nothing had happened, that Newt Snape never existed. My mother could not handle it, and in August, I found her in the bathtub. Dead. I do not actually know how she died, my father told me she fell asleep and ended up drowning. We had not planned her funeral, her mom did. I had not seen her since I could remember. I ended up meeting my great grandfather, Newt Scammander, and they were right, he looked just like my brother, just older. Well I guess my brother looked like him. I had his last name, my mom wanting me to continue it since my brother got to have his last name as Snape. I looked nothing like him, aside from the faint freckles that dusted my face.
A few days before I was to go to my first year, I had a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore. There we had decided it would be best for me to go the year after, especially since two of my family members had died not too far apart from each other.
So instead of going to my first year of school, I was sent to live with a childhood friend of mine. Draco Malfoy. I visited them a few times during the summer when I was not with the Weasleys. Draco and I were not very close friends, we actually disliked each other. During my visit, at Christmas break, my father, and Draco's father, thought we should have an arranged marriage. Draco and I. This disgusted the both of us, but we did not have a say in it. The stipulation being we were to be married at 17, if Draco and I had not found suitable partners to marry before that time. Little did the adults know, Draco had absolutely no interest in the female sex. He told me this a few summers back, which helped our ‘friendship’ a bit more.
When his parents were around, we had to hang out together, otherwise I was off reading my books. His mom was actually rather nice, I enjoyed her company. Some mornings, if the both of us were up before the others, we would have a cup of tea together in their library. I would read, and she would play the crossword puzzles from the daily prophet’s newspaper. We would sit in comfortable silence, with the only sounds being the ruffle or flipping of paper every so often. That year she started to become a second mother to me, or I guess third. Molly Weasley had been my second mom since I was merely six years of age.
I loved the Weasley family. I held them quite dear to my heart. I met them for the first time when I was six because of my mother. Mom and Arthur worked at the Ministry together. He had told her all about Charlie and his love for dragons. Mom in turn told him about Newt and his love for all magical creatures, which ended with them deciding to introduce the two boys the following weekend. Newt had met them a month before I had.
I was rather shy back then, even a bit now. I remember hiding behind my mother. Newt tried to convince me to come out from behind her legs. He succeeded of course, I trusted him. Molly and Arthur stood before me with smiles, and warm welcomes, introducing themselves first. I waved quickly at them before trying to hide behind my brother. I peeked out from behind him, who shook his head at my antics. There were seven children that I had counted. Arthur was holding a little boy and girl, standing to the left of him were two boys who looked identical, to the left of them were three more boys, each taller than the last. Molly knelt on the ground as Newt pulled me to his side. Molly smiled softly and introduced the children to me, left to right.
“This here is our oldest, Bill.” She pulled him forward a bit more to single him out. He smiled big, showing all his teeth. She pulled the next boy forward, “Here is Charlie, I’m sure your brother has told you about him.” He in turn waved quickly to you, Molly pulled another boy forward, he seemed unhappy. “This is Percy.” He hummed a bit as he crossed his arms and pouted slightly. I bit back a smile at this. Then she brought forth the two identical boys. “Here is Fred and George.” They both smiled cheekily, the one on the left spoke up, “I’m actually George.” Molly huffed slightly, upset she got it wrong. “Sorry boys.” She frowned a bit at this before standing and taking the boy from Arthur. “This little lad here is Ron.” Her grin returned as she pinched his cheek slightly, which caused him to try and squirm away. I smiled brightly at this. Arthur spoke and bounced the girl in his arms slightly, “And this here, is Ginerva, or Ginny.” He hummed slightly as he tickled her stomach causing her to laugh.
I had whispered a small ‘hello’ after they had all been introduced. Molly then shooed us outside to play, except for Ron and Ginny who had to go down for naps. Newt let go of my hand and chased after Charlie. Him and Newt would be going to school together in a few weeks. They had become fast friends, having only known each other a month before this. They met once before and had sent letters to each other until now.
I stood just out of the way of the door that led inside to the kitchen. Bill had disappeared deeper into the yard. Charlie and Newt were taping wings onto a rat, calling it a dragon. Percy seemed to be hiding behind the shed, his head poking around the corner every now and then. Fred and George were filling up water balloons at the garden tap, and I decided to grab the book from my bag hanging from the kitchen chair. I snuck in quietly, grabbed it, and ran out quickly before I was caught. I sighed with relief when I had not been. I slowly made my way to the wall beside the door and began reading. My brother and Mom taught me a year ago, I was still getting the hang of it. I was currently reading this muggle book my brother had sneakily bought for me called ‘The Little Prince’. I was only two chapters in, but I loved it.
I had read three more chapters before something cold splashed all over my book and I. I looked up to see the twins, holding the same water balloons from earlier, and several other Weasley siblings behind them, drenched. I stared at them, blinking slowly. Their heads tilted, confused. Slowly I got up, went into the kitchen, set my book in my bag, went back out to the yard, walked to the pump where they had filled a bucket with water. I picked it up, walked over to the twins who had gone to attack my brother and Charlie, and dumped it on their heads. They shrieked in shock before turning around quickly to find the empty bucket in my hands. They looked to me, to each other, and back to me, before the three of us burst out in giggles. I helped them attack the others with water balloons, including the adults, for the rest of the day.
Ever since then they had been a second family to me. I spent nearly every summer there. The Weasley children and I had become close, I watched Ron and Ginny grow up from little tods to children. Watched Bill become an adult and eventually move out. Watch Charlie and Newt become best friends, they were hardly ever separate. Watched as Percy became high on himself, and got relentlessly pranked by the twins. Of course I helped those two. Ever since I doused them in water when I was six, I fell in love with pranks. Helping with all of their shenanigans, and happily watching as they got lectured by their mother while I sat and had tea with her.
Molly and Arthur knew what happened behind closed doors, though my mom never allowed them to do anything about it. Worrying what my father would do if he had found out. Newt had told Charlie what went on, joking about it. Though Charlie never found it funny. Ever since then they hadn’t talked about it.
At the beginning of one summer, I had gone to the Burrow covered in bruises, the twins pestered me about it for the next week until I had given in. They were furious, and immediately wanted to hex the pants off of my father. Figuratively. I wouldn’t allow them though and warned them it could become worse. They kept their mouths shut about it for the rest of the summer. They only ever brought it up when they saw new bruises and such, becoming furious over it every time.
When my brother died, the Weasley family welcomed me to stay with them. I had to recline, since I did not want my Mom to feel alone. So instead I got nearly daily mail from different Weasley’s. Narcissa, Draco’s mom, even owled me a few times. The Weasley Family came to his funeral, each of them hugging me. Charlie beat the twins for hugging me the tightest. I remember the words he whispered in my ear.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. But I promise you, I’ll pursue the career for both him and I. And I promise, you’ll never be alone, I promise you’ll always have a big brother. He’ll always be with us, and; you have me.” I had not realized I was crying until he pulled back from the hug and wiped my tears away with his thumbs, wiping his own shortly after.
He sent an owl to me every day until he graduated. Then it turned into every third day since it was a long trip for the owl. He had moved to Romania to study dragons. He told me everything he learned during my year at the Malfoy's. I was going to go to Romania with him next summer and I could not wait.
Molly invited me to stay with them once more after my mom had passed. My mom and her were good friends and she took it nearly as hard as I had. Arthur was tied with his wife for grief. This time I had accepted, though my father sent them an owl, telling them I was to go to the Malfoy’s as he did not want me to burden them. I had told the twins about what had happened and they accused my father, which in turn got me to scold them for ever thinking such things. After that, they told me everything they were taught, I had already known everything since, I loved learning.
When I was seven and my brother passed down the textbooks from his first year at Hogwarts, I had learned them. I read all of his textbooks front to back, every little thing. If you asked me to, I could recite them from memory at this point. I got my wand when I was eight, my father wanting me to learn ahead after I took such an interest in knowledge. We got it the following summer, and since then I had learned several healing charms, no, mastered. My father taught me a few hexes and potions, my brother teaching me some spells he had learned from school. Even though it was illegal, my father made it clear we wouldn’t get caught and wanted me to learn it regardless. My favorite subjects so far were herbology, potions and anything to do with magical creatures. In that order. When I turned ten, my brother helped transform me that summer into an animagus. Having learned it through some books he had read. Though it was illegal he wanted us to share something only we knew about. My animagus was a raven, his being a white wolf. Ravens and wolves had a special relationship, and Newt wanted to symbolize that in our animagus forms. Not to mention they were opposite on the shade spectrum for color. Similar to that of the yin and yang. My father had also started to teach me some defense against the dark arts, nothing about spells, but about the creatures and history of it. It easily replaced potions as my second favorite subject, much to the distaste of my father.
My father had complimented me once, and only once, but I will remember it until I inevitably pass on. “You are years ahead of your age. Perhaps so much so, you could skip half of your years at Hogwarts. Though, you would still easily fail in several subjects, all of them if you don’t pay attention. Which seems to be what you are most capable of.” He walked away after that. Still, it was something that brought you great pride, regardless of the second half of it.
A creak from down the hall brought me crashing from my memories. I turned my head to watch as my father stepped out from his room, pausing after seeing me stand in the doorway to the library. Clearing his throat, he uttered a simple question, “Are you able to make it to the station on your own? I’d hope that you are still capable after a year of sitting around doing nothing Mycha.”
“Yes I am able to make it to the station father.” With that, the person who I deemed nothing more than a teacher and sperm donor, turned, and walked down the stairs. Grabbing his waiting suitcases, and leaving.
I sighed, taking one last look at the library I had sat in for hours reading. Making my way slowly through the house I never, and would never call home. Recalling different memories with different rooms I gazed into.
I went to finish packing after checking on every room. I Have the textbooks from my brother’s first year, my wand I got when I was eight, and the cat my father got me as a birthday present. The only thing that was bought for me since the new books I got when I was eight alongside my wand. I named her Cocoa. She was a long haired tortoiseshell. My father hated cats, having allergies to them and all.
I chuckled softly, as I walked into my plain and dusty bedchambers that had not been used this previous year, and would continue to gather dust. It was sad I only ever thought of this place as a guest house I got too comfortable in. Home was not here, it was with the Weasley family. Perhaps soon, Hogwarts would too, become my home.