Trusting Ghosts | James Potter

1 (edited)

When I was 14, my Aunt Orla informed me about how Hogwarts had changed her life.

She met her spouse there, became the first Hufflepuff in our family, and even learned to play quidditch which catapulted her 15 year long career with the Holyhead Harpies. As a child, she had sincerely promised me that I would be enlightened here. That I would be swept up in the grandeur between those stone walls and get a better perception of the world.

She was right of course. I didn't understand that in my first five years, but now I do. Maybe I had gained maturity over the summer, or simply come to appreciate what I had at Hogwarts while my parents plotted for power and my siblings simply stood by as we were routinely bartered away for money or status.

I had four years until my impending nuptials to a surprise husband. Four years left of freedom, four years until I was locked into a damp, silent manor and expected to birth children and be quiet. All I knew about my betrothed was that he was a pureblood, currently attending Hogwarts, and that our parents had already decided my dowry. So basically nothing.

I only had four years to figure out how to escape from that future.

Aunt Orla had lived in the muggle world for most of my life. She would stop by for visits annually before sweeping away to disappear for months. My parents barely tolerated her and her progressive views, but I drank in her words like an elixir. I had never thought that the outside world might be different than what was within the walls of damp manors and stuffy parlor rooms. Last year, it was discovered that Orla was married, but not to the pureblood man that my parents would believe appropriate. I still remember my mothers echoing footsteps across the marble floors as she paced back and forth at the news.

Orla died last autumn. A mysterious apparition accident that had ended with her and her muggleborn partners' entrails spread across an abandoned field. There were no bodies left to bury. I never believed it was an accident, but saying that would put my own neck on the block. I had chosen to keep my head down, regardless of how badly the thought gnawed at my insides.

Today was a good day to remember Orla and what she had taught me. Love and joy were worth being the black sheep of the family, or rather, the dead sheep in the family. Hogwarts was her way out, it could also be mine if I played my cards right. She may not have survived, but I would rather die like her than live this lie anymore than I had too.

The long, eerie train whistle startled me from my thoughts as I stepped through the nine and three quarters platform. People swarmed around me in clusters as the dark red Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. It let out a long string of cloudy gray steam that twirled around below the ceiling. A faint smile tugged at my lips. My little sister, Aella, absolutely beamed in excitement.

Next to me, my parents stood proud and pristine. My father was arrogant, tall, and had a sour expression permanently twisted on his otherwise handsome face. My mother had a large updo that made her already elegant form look taller and her designer robes were meticulously pressed. She looked distastefully at a piece of used gum stuck to the floor, only to hold her head up a little higher.

"It's time, children." She informed us. "Yes ma'am." I responded, attempting not to squeal in joy at being free of them until Christmas. Two of my siblings, Aella and Evander both quickly hugged our parents goodbye and escaped to meet their friends. Evander was in his last year and was trying to spend as much time with his group before they were thrust into the real world. Aella on the other hand was only 13 and going into her fourth year. She wanted to look cool, and it is common knowledge that you can't have your friends knowing you hug your parents.

I hugged both my parents as well and turned back to the gleaming black train. I heard a faint whooshing sound, they had already apparated away. My father had not bothered to say anything, only to nod curtly and return my embrace. I should just be surprised they even showed up.