The Little Lightning Girl

62- Photos, Journals, Clues

There were whispers in the streets. Diagon Alley, for the first time since I had known it, was strangely... dull. The shops were still painted bright colors, there was still magic all around but there was a sense of urgency in the air. Families didn't stop and chat, or at least not for long. Children stuck close to their parents and didn't wander.

I'd known for a while that there was another conflict coming, but the rest of the world had seemed content to carry on normally. This attribute, the chill in the air, it showed that people were no longer ignoring the imminent danger. I kept my head down when I moved towards the book shop. People hadn't known my face or name before, but I'd just competed in the Junior Quidditch leagues. I had no doubts that sooner or later, some reporter would connect the dots and pin the prophecy on me and my friends. 

The goblins in Gringotts cared just as little about my presence as they always had, thankfully. I held my chin high and spoke clearly to the goblin at the front desk, presenting my key when asked. My vault looked the same as it had when I last left it, with its mixture of coins and memorabilia. What I hadn't seen last time was the plain leather book on the floor by the door to the vault. I'd almost stepped on it. 

I picked it up and examined it, finding nothing unusual about the brown leather except for the symbol on the spine, a bird surrounded by six evenly spaced stars. I opened the front cover in curiosity. 

Kalani Faye. 1974.

It was a diary. It was my grandmother's handwriting that filled the following pages. I tucked the journal in my bag, along with handfuls of coins, not bothering to count it out as I probably should have. 

After leaving Gringotts, I collected my school supplies from around the Alley quickly and quietly. I didn't need new robes because I hadn't grown at all, but several sets of books and parchment were needed. I sent up a prayer of thanks to whomever was listening that I didn't run into anyone I knew. 

I could've left after getting my supplies, but I couldn't walk past Josephine's book store without feeling guilty. So I figured I'd pay a visit. The bookshop was the same as I'd last seen it, fortunately. Few people were inside except for the old woman at the desk, Josephine. I'd written her a few times, but had never been back to her shop until now. 

"Alana," her aging voice sounded before my eyes had even adjusted to the dim lighting, "it's great to see you, dear!"

I smiled at her as I beheld her behind the desk, "Hey, Josephine!"

In a quieter tone, she said, "Your room is available."

I grinned and made my way towards the room she'd showed me last time I visited. It opened for me the same way it had before. I wandered around the room, running my fingers over the spines of books that were all Ancient Greek translations. Not for the first time, I wondered why the hell Josephine had this room. 

I was just about to pluck a navy-covered book from the shelf when something hit me in the head. It was odd that I didn't catch it, and even odder that it seemed a book had leapt off the highest shelf by itself. I gasped when I got a good look at the book that lay on the floor. Plain brown leather, with a bird symbol on the side. I rustled through my bag to make sure that the journal from my vault was still there, and when my fingers grasped its cover, I leaned down to pick up the other one. 

It was an exact copy of the diary from the vault. Exact in every detail except the date on the inside and the pages afterward. 

Kalani Faye. 1975.

With some quick math, I determined that these two notebooks would have been from her last two years of Hogwarts. Looking up to the highest shelf, I saw an empty space from which the diary had leapt. I cursed under my breath when I saw several other brown leather journals up there. Floating myself high enough to reach, I pulled them down, stuffing them in my bag. When my feet again touched the ground, I settled into a chair and ruffled through them, one after another. 

1973, 1971, 1972, 1970, 1969.

There was a diary for each year my grandmother had been at Hogwarts. Why none of these books had knocked me in the head before, I didn't know. But I just went with my instinct and picked up the oldest one. The handwriting inside was a sloppy version of the refined cursive I knew as well as breathing. It was a child's writing, and it made my chest ache. 

September 1st, 1969

I got sorted into Ravenclaw today. My mum thought for sure I'd be Hufflepuff, but my dad thought I'd make it into Ravenclaw. Classes are supposed to start tomorrow and I'm dying to go. I just hope Bane doesn't make my life horrible. Seeing as he has yet to laugh at me, I have to assume he plans to deny any and all familial attachments to me. So much for protecting me while I was here, Mum should've known better than to even ask. Oh well, he's never been the typical big brother, has he?

She'd never mentioned a brother. Not once in all the years I'd known my grandmother had she mentioned a sibling in any capacity. Not that she'd talked much about her life before moving back to Hawaii, but this... 

September 3rd, 1969

I love Hogwarts. The food is amazing, classes are interesting, and I think I've finally made a friend. The Sorting Hat called her Josephine, but she insists on being called Josie. She's smart, she likes to read, and to draw. The has the prettiest brown eyes I've ever seen, and she says she got them from her Mum, Marianne. She has older twin sisters, both are in Slytherin. Bane still won't talk to me, but I suppose that's better than him embarrassing me. I lied when Mum wrote and asked if he's been nice. If I only end up ever having one friend, then that will be enough. I don't need Bane. I love Potions class, and Transfiguration. The wand maker said I'd be good at it, and I guess he was right. I wish I could go out for Quidditch. Josie's neighbor at home is a muggle, so she has this muggle contraption called a polar camera. At least, I think that's what it is. The picture it spits out doesn't move, but I kind of like that it doesn't. This is the first picture we took together. 

Underneath the journal entry was a photograph, presumably stuck there with a charm, of two young girls in Hogwarts robes. Although it took some squinting, I eventually figured out that these were the same two girls I'd seen as teenagers my third year. When Albus and Rose had found that picture in my vault. 

A knock sounded on the door to the secret room, and Josephine poked her head in. It was the eyes that made me put the pieces together. 

"You're Josie," I stated, staring at the old woman, "you're my Grandma's friend."