The Dreamer's Curse

Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

[Chapter 11]

Grandma Caroline was knocking frantically at my door. It had been a few days after I met Harry, and I decided to revisit the Harry Potter novels.

“Yes, Grandma?” I said lazily.

She poked her head into the room, her mouth forming a crinkled frown. “Why aren’t you dressed yet, Jane?”

“Dressed for what exactly?”

“For what indeed! It’s Christmas Eve, my dear!”

“Oh, right,” I frowned. “What time is it?”

“Nearly five, now get dressed or we’ll be late for church.”

I dressed in a warm blue jumper, and hurried downstairs. Grandma ushered me into the cold evening, eager to get to our local parish in time. As I sat next to her half-listening to the preacher, I began to observe Grandma Caroline a little more. Her shoulders were uncharacteristically hunched; her gaze lacked the cheerfulness I had always associated her with; her aura felt hollow.

All the while, I had thought that staying the Christmas break was for her to help me, – for the realm was all she talked about – but now as I watched her under the parish’s warm Christmas lights, I realised it was she who needed me.

Despite the façade she wore in an attempt to convince all the relations that she was unaffected by great grandpa’s death, she looked positively ill. Her husband was lost to the realm. Her son was emotionally absent because of the Curse. Now, her father, who had been her sole companion for so many years, had been taken by the same cursed realm.

I shan’t tell her about his wicked ways, then. I can’t.

Snow began to fall as we made our way out of the church. By the time we ducked into the front door, our ankles were damp from the mile long walk. We brushed the snow off our shoulders and gulped down hot chocolate next to the fire. Grandma’s thoughts were far away, probably with Samuel. Her face looked more tired as she heaved a sigh. I held her cold hand in mine, but Grandma was beyond consoling.

Shortly before midnight, Grandma Caroline retired to bed, and so I followed suit, eager to get back to the world of my books.

Almost immediately after I shut my eyes, I woke to the smell of Alice’s hash. I rubbed my eyes, forcing sleep away. I glanced at the calendar, hoping I didn’t lose track of time. 7th of August.

Downstairs, the breakfast table was covered with plates of food — from quiches to pies to waffles.

“What’s all this?” I asked, taking a seat next to a very happy Harry.  Alice smiled, taking a seat next to me.

“Happy birthday, Jane!” Harry cheered.

I blinked, and Alice winked at me, handing me a brown envelope. I knew what it contained. The file, my file.

“Thanks,” I said to them both before helping myself to apple pie. Harry was beaming with joy. After a good week away from the Dursleys, he seemed happier. His cheeks were flushed with a healthy colour, for we spent the days in the gardens.

“What are we to do today?” Harry asked after we had finished breakfast.

I sipped my glass of water, pondering the question. “We could try out some spells,” I suggested.

“But Hagrid said we weren’t allowed to practice magic outside school,” Harry’s face was full of worry. “Won’t we get into trouble?”

“Well,” I began. “Wizarding children have got the trace on them until they come of age — that means the Ministry of Magic, the government, knows when we cast spells and such. But they don’t interfere if we’re nowhere near Muggles, or if there’s an adult around.”