The Diary In The Quiet Room
Harry stood in the center of the Leakwood Family Cemetery and just listened to the wind blow. He could feel the air curl and twist through his clothes. A storm was coming in from the ocean and would most likely arrive in a few hours. He could barely tear his eyes away from the beautiful statues. Each grave had an original stone or marble carving in place of a headstone. One was of a lovely woman with a book under one arm and a quill in the other. It read:
Gisella Leakwood "The Scholar" 1802 - 1884
Beloved daughter, Beloved wife, Beloved mother
"As the years pass us by,
and age comes to our weary limbs,
we begin to realize the simple truth.
When this life is left behind,
it is only who we are,
the love we have known and shared,
and the knowledge we have learned
that we carry with us into the next."
Another statue was of a portly man laughing with his arms outstretched. It read:
Craiger Leakwood "The Jolly" 1793 - 1833
Beloved son, Beloved brother
"I have learned only this,
live each day as if it is your defining moment.
Whenever you have a chance,
laugh with all of your heart,
and people will always laugh with you."
Harry suddenly felt connected to the world. These were the ancestors of his mother. Through them, perhaps he would come to know her. Harry looked up and saw the storm had already arrived. He strode quickly back towards the manor. From what Teebel told him, when storms came from over the ocean, the rain was almost always torrential. This storm was no exception and began to do just that shortly after Harry had ducked inside the main foyer. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and he began to feel energized. There was still a great deal of this place he had yet to explore. Today seemed like a good day to do just that.
He decided to start with the highest floor and work his way down. The rooms were filled with an eclectic collection of antiques, beautiful paintings and expert craftsmanship wherever your eyes could wander. The hallways were filled with 'Everlast Candles' that would light up whenever they sensed something nearby. They gave off a glow that added warm colors to all the nooks and crannies. One door grabbed Harry's attention. The southeast tower had a long and winding stairway that led up to a single room. Harry came to the top and saw a rosewood door with delicate silver filigree etched throughout. He grasped the cool silver door latch and pulled the door open. A strange smell wafted out from the room. If Harry was right it was a cross between cinnamon, honey-clover and sulphur. It was both strange and somewhat out of place. The room had two windows in it that stretched from the floor to just a few feet from the top of the tower's ceiling. They were narrow and had sheer, white drapes cascading down the entire length. They covered the outside view, but let in a soft white light that filled the room. There were strangely no candles in the room, but enough sunlight was still peeking through the storm to keep it well lit. In time that would most likely change as the lower, darker clouds were sweeping in.
The room had a small bed with white sheets and an off white comforter folded neatly atop the mattress. The head and baseboard were a slightly tarnished silver work that looked like sapling tree branches with delicate leaves dangling in regular intervals. On the other side of the room was a white marble sink that had a stoneware pitcher and basin set resting on top. There was also a white dresser with a swiveling, oval mirror perched in the center.
Harry walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. It was filled with old clothes that had been somehow preserved quite well, most likely by Teebel. He opened each of the drawers until he came to the last. Inside it was empty save for a small sky blue, cloth-bound book nestled in the back. He reached down and picked it up. There was a thin layer of dust on it that Harry carefully blew off. It had a single name stitched on the front, 'Amelia'. There was no doubt that it was some sort of diary.
He opened it towards the end and began to randomly read excerpts from it.
…
'Today was so cold and damp in my room. I told papa and he sent a house-elf up to cast a warmthening spell, so I could get some sleep. I seem to get tired real easy. I carried a small bucket of dirt from the garden and could not even get halfway to the house. I had to leave it, because it was just too hard.'
…
'My left arm does not work anymore. I told papa and he picked me up and held me real close. I could feel him shaking. I think he was crying. It made me cry thinking that he was crying for me.'
…
'I feel so tired. I wish I could walk around, but my legs won't do what I tell them to anymore. Papa has been down in the cellar for six days without coming out. Mama says that he is working hard to try and help me. I wish he would not work so hard. I just want him to come and talk with me.'
…
'I love my mama. I love my sister. I love my papa. I'm afraid of dying, because I won't get to see them anymore.'
…
Harry noted that was the last entry in the diary. With reverence he returned the diary to the bottom drawer and closed it. He turned around, walked out and closed the door behind him. Harry would not return to this room for a long, long time.
--- ---
Harry was fiddling with the strange doorknob. It did not seem to turn the way a normal knob would. He even cast 'Alohomora' and it did absolutely nothing. It was not that it was locked; it was simply that he had no idea of how to open the door. Out of frustration, more than anything else, Harry yanked hard on the thing. To his surprise it pulled out, not unlike a queer little pinball machine. He held it for a moment and then released it. A sound of tiny bells started to go off from somewhere inside. After a moment, the sound of metal sliding through wood could be heard. Then the door opened inward and revealed the place that Teebel would not go. Harry had never seen anything like it. It was straight out of some mad scientist's dreams. There was a bright yellow-red glow coming from the 'Everlast Torches' attached to each of the walls. It lit the room well, but gave a strange, eerie quality to it.
There was a myriad of tables along the wall edges. Each one held a different smattering of strange things. One had nothing but books, notebooks and loose paper scraps from one end to the other. Another table was filled with beakers and glass tubing that snaked through and around metal clamps and half-burnt candles. One, perhaps more curious than all the rest, appeared to have pieces of old machinery on it. Iron cogs and brass gears strewn atop various metallic shapes carelessly laid in no particular fashion.
All of this, though, paled in comparison to what was in the middle of the room. A massive metal pipe ran from ceiling to floor. It had to have been as big around as a hundred year oak. There were huge versions of the cogs and gears that were upon the worktable, surrounding it. Strange hoses made of copper and brass were interwoven and interconnected all around it, though strangely none of them touched the central pipe. Upon closer inspection the pipe did not seemed to be fastened, either to the ceiling or the floor. Harry had no idea of how such a thing was put here in the first place and what held it in place for all these years. An ominous looking lever was standing near it. Perfectly positioned to be grabbed from a standing position and thrown forward, possibly awakening this silent giant. What on earth could it all be for? Why is it here and who built it?
The only thing that Harry could think of was that it seemed as if it had just leapt off the pages of an old Jules Verne novel. It frightened Harry, but he also felt strangely drawn to it. What really would happen if he pulled that lever? If ever there was a time he needed Hermione right here by his side, this was it. Only her clever mind could fathom what this could possibly do. Harry walked over to the table covered in books and grabbed a red notebook that was set perfectly in the center of the disorganized chaos. The cover said, 'Journal and Discourses of Heaglevert Leakwood'. He opened it up and he was transfixed. Inside it were dozens of drawings and illustrations, short essays on such topics as 'the mechanics of magic', 'the arithmancy of science' and "the transfigured steam engine', along with hundreds of detailed notes and charts depicting the various stages of building some kind of perpetual machine. It made Harry dizzy just glancing through it.
It was too much to take in all at once. Harry quickly retreated from the room and grasped the notebook to his chest. The only thing he was sure of right now, was that whatever he had just discovered had been most likely forgotten for almost a century. Perhaps that was for the best. It could be a terrible weapon or some sort of doomsday machine. These thoughts made Harry shudder to his core. What kind of family were these Leakwoods anyway? Just as he asked himself that, he passed by a small wall mirror in one of the hallways.
"What kind of family are they? They're my family. I'm the kind that they are. If that's true then who am I?"
Harry began to run back up to the main floor. He was going so fast that he did not see Teebel trying to carry down the lunch dishes on the stairway. He ran straight into the small elf and the result was two broken dishes and a half glass of spilt milk. Teebel's mouth was hanging open in utter terror.
"OH MASTER!! What have I done to you?! I was not looking and I caused you to run right into me! Please forgive Teebel, it will never happen again! I will go and punish myself immediately!"
"Teebel please calm down!" Harry shouted a bit louder than he meant to.
He calmed his racing heart and began to speak softly, "Forgive me Teebel. It was entirely my fault. I was upset and did not see you there. This mess is my fault and I will clean it up."
Harry's breathing was ragged and Teebel was staring dumbfounded and trembling. In one fell swoop Harry picked Teebel up off the ground and warmly embraced him. He patted him gently, put him back down and picked up the dishes and mess that had been strewn across the stairs. He then made his way down to the kitchen, mess in hand. Teebel stayed exactly where he was, bottom chin proverbially on the floor for over an hour before he regained enough presence of mind to move again. In the two hundred years he had been alive, no one had ever hugged him before. He was not sure that any house-elf anywhere had ever been hugged before by a human in any place or any time. One thing was for sure, not that it was any different before, but he actually made himself a solemn promise that from this moment on he would live and die for Harry Potter, the noblest of all wizards.
--- ---
Harry held his head in his hands sitting at the small table in the quiet breakfast nook. He had just finished dinner and decided that he desperately needed to talk to someone. Not just anyone, but one person in particular. He wanted to write something rational and thoughtful, but in the end it was neither.
Hermione,
You are my dearest friend. You have been in my thoughts a great deal the past couple of days. That's not being entirely honest; you are in my thoughts all the time. It's just been a little more intense lately. I know I wrote you and told you about my new home, but there's so much more to tell you. Some good, some very sad, and some frightening. I really need your advice and more importantly your companionship. I need my best friend in the whole world to be where she has always been these past few years; by my side. I know how important this amazing learning opportunity is for you, so what I am about to ask is terribly difficult for me. I feel an awful guilt, but I'm too scared not to ask. Please leave the school in America and come and see me. The sooner the better. Right now would be good for me if that is convenient for you. I know that I will be deeply in your debt, but whatever I have to do, I'll do it. Please, please come. I'm begging you.
Harry
The end of the letter sounded familiar to Harry for some reason, but right now he could not put his finger on it. He called to Hedwig and gave her strict orders to get this letter to Hermione as soon as possible. He needed to hear from her. He missed her.
--- ---
As Hedwig flew out into the countryside a strange fog rolled in off the coast. Unfazed Hedwig flew straight into it. Her friend made this letter sound very urgent and she would not rest until she safely delivered it into Hermione's hands.
After a moment the white owl started to feel awfully tired. A sharp shake of the head did nothing to help. It was getting difficult to see, something that raised every alarm in her body, but she could barely keep her eyes open. Hedwig decided to land for a short moment and just nap long enough to refresh herself for the long journey. There was a small cave entrance just ahead on the edge of the shore. It seemed safe and comfortable almost as if she were being drawn toward it. She swooped in and landed awkwardly on the rocky floor. The small cavern was quite dark, but seemed safe enough. Within a second or two she was fast asleep.
A very tall and gaunt man stepped inside the cave just after her. His body was almost grossly thin and his old and tattered black suit seemed to just hang off his shoulders. His straggly white hair fell just down to his shoulders. His eye sockets were gaunt, but held two piercing hazel eyes that never seemed to sit still; always glancing about as if expecting something to happen. His spindly fingers carefully reached down and picked up the unconscious bird.
"Now listen to me," came his low, hoarse voice, "you have done a wonderful job in delivering this letter to its destination. You will awaken in two days and return to your master knowing that you did just what you were asked to do. For now though, rest your weary owl bones."
With a muted laugh he ripped the letter open and read it. He then pulled out his wand and with a quick jerk lit a fire in a small pit that had been previously dug. He then tore up the letter and threw it into the flames. Strangely enough in the exact same place that all of the letters Harry had written had ended up just a day before. With another jerk of his wand the man summoned an odd rocking chair near the fire. He slowly lowered himself into it and began rocking back and forth.
"So, Harry Potter - heir of the Leakwood family's prized possession. How much longer before you discover the secrets hidden within that place? What will you do once you learn what it all is really for? I'll tell you what you will do, because in the end I will leave you no choice. You are my tender little marionette and I intend to pull your strings and force you to dance to my little song. I will have what is my due and no one can stop me. Yes, I am sure you are very powerful to have defeated that foolish Voldemort, but I do not intend to directly confront you. That was his fatal mistake. I will simply stay hidden and push you into the dark corner I have so lovingly prepared for you. Dance my little fool, dance for old Griltskin."
An eerie laughter poured out of the ocean side cave, but there was no one else there to hear it.
--- ---
Thousands of miles away a young woman shot up from a deep sleep. Sweat had caused her hair to stick to her neck and back. The past few nights she had the same nightmare. She could see Harry Potter searching through a foul place, desperately searching for something. Then a horrible light would flare up and out of the darkness a strange machine made of gears and hoses, spewing out steam, would come to life and then swallow him whole. She knew it was a ridiculous fear, but every time she woke up she felt scared for him. Each night made it harder and harder to ignore.
She counted off the days and realized that it had been a week and a half since she had first written to Harry and still no response. She had sent a second letter and still heard nothing from him. Harry could be forgetful, but this was not like him at all. She could not help but worry about him.
The only door in the room slowly opened and the light in the hallway made her eyes hurt.
"Hermione? Are you okay? You were making a lot of noise in your sleep and I got worried about you? Do you need me to get the nurse?"
"No, I'm okay… really. It's just, well I think I need to leave," Hermione replied.
"Leave? But what about all the classes you signed up for. I heard that you are here by invitation. That doesn't happen very often. If you left now you would never get this opportunity again," the young woman replied earnestly.
Hermione sighed and answered, "That is most likely true, but there are some things far more important then school. My friend is one of those things. I'm going to pack and head out first thing in the morning."
The woman looked at Hermione for a moment and then promptly turned the light on. She walked in, started opening drawers and pulling all of the clothes out.
"Well? Are you just going to lie there are you going to help me, help you pack?"
If nothing else, Hermione had discovered some new friends while she was out here. Some of them she would even write to, to try and keep in touch. It was really nice, but she could not in good conscious stay here, even if there was the remotest chance that Harry was in any danger. He needed her, and that thought more than any other gave her life fierce direction.