Session Five: Meeting the Party

Imagine if you will, a house on a hill at the end of the street. The house is two stories high, with a lawn, a picket fence and rose bushes. It sounds cute. Picturesque.

The lawn is over grown, bugs and vermin call it home, many wild cats have wandered in and never escaped. The rose bushes are a tangled mess of thorns so sharp and dangerous, they cut any who come close to drink their blood in deep. The picket fence is tall enough that one has to strain to look over it but the planks are so close together they give the feeling of bars around a jail cell.

Then there is the house.

The house is a run down old thing, the paint is peeling, the windows are cracked, the door is barely hanging on. The sun never shines on the house, always blocked out by rain clouds or mist. Sounds come from the house late at night, sounds so unspeakable, so maddening that the neighbors have all moved, leaving the street empty.

Yes no one lives on the street. No one except the small child who calls the house home. But fret not for she is not alone, while she is the only person who lives on the street there are two others who call the street home, they just find themselves to be in a state that one could not call living.

...

Hermione's POV

Hermione Jean Granger was always an odd child. Smart beyond her years did not cover it. While her classmates in school were learning the itsy bitsy spider, she was learning theoretical physics and chaos theory. While they learnt to tie their shoes, she learnt how to write code. While her parents died, she learnt how to bring them back.

Her parents weren't quite the same as they once were. The lack of a corporeal form and the knowledge that life is meaningless will do that to a person but Hermione did not let that affect her. She had her parents and that was all that mattered. Still they needed a physical body and so Hermione took to raiding every library, book store, antique shop and anything else that she could think of that would have books and knowledge about necromancy.

It started off with simple need for a nine year old child to hug her parents again but it expanded far from there. She needed more. She needed to understand just what was it that allowed one to separate a soul from the body, what allowed her parents to still talk to her despite lacking any physical form to blow air through their ghostly vocal cords. Hermione Jean Granger needed to understand magic it's self.

Hermione stared at the old man in the tie-die'd robes with his floor length beard and that smile on his face that said he knew more than she did. Oh how Hermione hated when people looked at her like that, it didn't matter that she was one of the greatest minds that ever walked the Earth, she was still a child and that was all that anyone ever saw.

'This is excellent tea,' Albus Dumbledore said cheerfully.

Hermione looked at him, curiously wondering what she should comment on first. The fact that he had appeared into her house with no warning, one second he wasn't there, the next he was standing on her desk getting dirt on her books. She wondered if she should comment on the fact that the only reason she knew who he was was because of a card with a moving picture that she found months ago. She wondered if she should ask why he was there and what he wanted from her.

Hermione Jean Granger didn't chose option A, or B or even C. No Hermione chose option D, all of the above. 'How did you get here? Was it teleportation? Why did you appear on my desk? What is the greatest wizard of modern times doing here? What exactly are the twelve uses of dragons blood? Can alchemy be used to bring my parents back to life? What do you want from me? Why are you here?' she asked in an excited babble, quickly turning on a tape recorder so she could record his every word.

Albus Dumbledore took another sip of his tea and then finally deigned to answer Hermione's questions. 'Yes.'

'What? Yes? What do you mean Yes? Yes is not an answer!'

Albus Dumbledore stepped off of her desk, gradually floating down to the floor. 'The answer to your question child is yes. Of course if you do not understand the question then that is understandable.'

"Oh no,' Hermione shouted stomping over to the rude old man who decided to break into her house. 'You are not Douglas Adams and the answer is not Forty Two. Now answer my questions,' she demanded.

Albus Dumbledore however did not seem to care that he had an irate genius on his hands, he calmly pulled a chair out of nowhere and sat down, once more sipping at his tea. 'The answer,' he said quietly, calmly, 'is yes.' That was it Hermione was going to strangle this old man with his beard! 'The question is can alchemy be used to bring my parents back to life? I thought that was quite obvious,' he stated calmly as Hermione stopped in her tracks. 'After all it was the only question that could be answered with a yes, and it would be the most important question to anyone else,' he put his tea cup down and stared at Hermione, looking her in the eyes with such intensity that for the first time Hermione felt as if someone not only saw her, but understood who she was as a person, down to her very soul. 'Of course you are not like everyone else are you Miss Granger. It isn't family that motivates and drives you, it is knowledge, the need to understand and know everything, to have the rules of reality laid out in front of you. It isn't something as mundane as bringing your parents back to life is it?'

Hermione stared at the old man. A distant part of her mind told her she was clenching her fists, gritting her teeth and her face was heating up. The rest of her mind didn't care. Hermione kicked Albus Dumbledore in the shins, causing the old man to grunt in pain 'I do care about my parents!' she screamed.

Albus grabbed his shin in pain, tears forming in his eyes. 'should have used mage armor,' he hissed. 'I know you care about, why does this hurt so much, your parents,' he said. 'But that doesn't mean they motivate you. Knowledge motivates you, not love.'

Hermione glared up at the old man and kicked him in the shin again, though this time her foot stopped just before contact, as if an invisible something was in the way. She stared and tried again, her foot once again stopped before contact. 'How did you do this? What is this? Is this the mage armor you mentioned? How do I do it? You didn't even do anything,' she had already forgotten her anger as she kneeled down and started poking at Albus' shin, or more accurately the wall of force in front of it.

'That my dear is a lesson best left for school,' Albus responded standing up and causing Hermione to scoot back. 'Speaking of which I have your school packet here, somewhere.' He reached a hand into his beard and started to fumble around, after a moment he pulled out a sword, a scimitar that was on fire, 'no not this,' and pushed it back into his beard. He pulled out a treasure chest, a wine casket, a suit of plate armor, a book and even a bird that squawked angrily but all were pushed back into his beard with a mutter and a look of confusion. 'Ah ha! that's where it was,' he declares with excitement, reached over and pulled a large envelope from behind Hermione's ear. 'Knew I left it somewhere,' he then tore the envelope into hundreds of tiny pieces.

'What!? Why!?...WHAT!?" Hermione screamed in shock. He pulled that envelope from behind her ear and then tore it up. Why?

'You will want to mend that, you need that for school,' Albus said simply, waving his hands so the pieces of paper fell onto the floor. Hermione was going to say something, anything, she wasn't sure what but it would be scathing, she opened her mouth and Albus disappeared with a loud crack.

He had left something behind though, a tiny little book

The Mending Cantrip for Dummies.

...

Now we move across the country, past the suburbs, past the cities, past roads, rivers and fields to a ramshackle house near a small little orchard. The house is quite big but it has an appearance is if someone took a cottage, attached a log cabin on top, attached a townhouse on top of that and didn't quite align the three. It shouldn't be standing and yet it is.

The house is in the middle of an orchard, the orchard grows grapes that glow with a gentle light, at night it is as if stars can be found growing here.

The house and the orchard are far from any other residence and no one walks here accidentally

...

Ron's POV

Ronald Bilius Weasley was the sixth child out of seven. Just consider that for a moment. He was the sixth of seven, there were five children who came before him and the seventh child came after him. Life was not a picnic for Ron. He had tried to get some attention growing up but he was always out shined by his older brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, or the twins Fred and George always took attention with their stupid pranks and any attention left for the family was given to his sister, Ginny.

Ron tried to not be jealous, he understood it really he did. His brothers were so impressive, so great and exciting, his sister was born the second a solar eclipse ended, she was chosen by Pelor himself and Ron...Ron was just Ron. We was a bit slow, he was a bit quiet, a bit lazy, he wasn't a bad kid, he wasn't really a good one either. Ron just was Ron.

Still today was Ron's day. It was the day where he would get his invite to Hogwarts Adventuring Academy. It was the biggest day of his young life. Back when it was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is when his parents first met. When it changed to Hogwarts Adventuring Academy was when they fell in love. It was the school that taught Bill and Charlie, helping them find who they are now. It was the school that was helping Percy, Fred and George become who they are meant to be and it is the school that will help Ron become more than just Ron.

Ron was ready for today, he could barely sleep last night, he woke up with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame, he had a skip in his step and it was going to be great. A day, finally a day that was about him. So it was with excitement that he rushed down stares, still in his pajamas ready for his big day as he rushed into the kitchen and had his hopes completely shattered.

Sitting at the table happily cutting into some pancakes was the golden robed figure of Pelor, happily chatting to Ginny. Of course one of the rare couple of days a year that Pelor the god of the sun shows up just so happens to be Ron's big day. Of course. That's just how it happens doesn't it.

Slowly Ron backed out of the room, he didn't say a word, he didn't need to, everyone was paying attention to the literal god in the kitchen and said god was only paying attention to Ginny. Slowly Ron backed out tears in his eyes and shame for getting his hopes up burnt his cheeks. He walked out into the orchard, bare feet cold at the touch of the morning grass but he didn't want to be inside right now, he could handle the cold instead. So he walked out into the orchard, getting lost among the Aelfenberries.

'I just wanted one day,' he sobbed quietly. 'Just one day, can't I have that?'

'Heh you're thinking too small, little one,'a voice of fire and rattling chains whispered into Ron's ear. The luscious vines withered around him, and the morning sun faded until Ron was surrounded by darkness.

'Please,' Ron whispered not even flinching at what was happening, not reacting as grapes began to burst, screaming as they died. 'Not today. Please'

'Don't worry little one,' the voice cooed. 'i'm not a monster like the one who has stolen your sister, your family, your special day from you. No I care about you and I want you to have your special day. As such I come to you with a gift.' Ron didn't know what the gift was but it didn't matter the voice never wanted to help, it only wanted to hurt him, to hurt his family and Pelor. Hurting was all that the voice knew, all that it wanted.

'I don't want to hurt you little one, I care about you. The others don't care, not your mom, not your dad, not your brothers, not your sister and not that golden asshole. No one else cares about you, no one but me and isn't that just sad?' Ron hated himself for it, but the voice it seemed almost...it seemed almost genuine, he couldn't stop himself from nodding. 'That is why little one I come to you with the gift of a friend. You can have your own little familiar, a friend that will always be there for you, a friend who will always love you just as much as I do. Doesn't that sound nice?'

Despite his common sense Ron found himself nodding along. It would be nice to have a familiar, a friend, someone that he could talk to. Ron never had one of those before. He only ever had his family and they were always forgetting about him. 'Yeah, it would be nice,' he muttered as the voice of The Chained One told him exactly how to summon a familiar of his own.

So still alive, lockdown has been. Well its sucked but its for a good reason.

anyway sorry I didn't show off Diagon Alley but I wanted to do an intro for our friends here. It did not go how I planned but thats okay im happy with it.

So hope you all enjoyed it so far.