Harry Potter - Three Short Stories
Bruce T. Forbes
Published: 2010
Tag(s): "short story" "Harry Potter" "fan fiction" fantasy
Introduction
Harry Patter Fan Fiction
Bruce T. Forbes
2009
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Please read all these stories in the order published as one builds upon the next.
So, what's a Christian Sunday School teacher doing writing Harry Potter stories? While I respect those whose opinion makes Harry Potter out to be the Spawn of Satan just waiting to demonize their children, I do not share their opinion. As one of Israel's top rabbis explained, there are two types of “magic” in literature. First, there is the type that calls on devils and false gods to do things – that's the magic and sorcery that was common at the time the Law of Moses was given and is forbidden by the Holy Bible. Sorry, no demons of false gods in the Harry Potter stories. Second, there's the manipulation of natural laws – that's not forbidden by the Bible.
What has Harry Potter taught my children? Well, among other things -
- To fight for the Right.
- To lean on and assist friends.
- That Family is is the basic building block of a moral society.
- Not to tease and torment the 'underdog'.
- That Right ultimately triumphs.
- To not give up.
- There is a shred of Good even in the worst person.
And that's just what I can think of off the top of my head.
Enjoy!
Minerva's Summer Romance
PART ONE: The Stranger Approaches
Jacob loved Scotland, but only in the summer. Northern winters were getting far too cold for his blood, but just try to keep him in a southern latitude when the heather was in bloom and the skies over the Scottish mountains were as blue as blue could be. This particular June, as in many previous, he was hiking the Highlands clad only in a kilt, hiking boots, and a very broad, hairy chest. His black, curly hair, which hadn't been cut in at least a hundred years, was pulled in a tight, braided ponytail which lay upon the top of his pack and spilled down the back of it, nearly reaching his waist.
Jacob loved the sun and the clear blue sky. He loved the natural heat of the sun touching his body and warming him completely. Most of all, he loved curling up on a large exposed rock and letting the sun warm and recharge him - especially after a long, satisfying meal!
This particular summer Jacob was hiking a range for which most maps gave little or no detail - and blank spots just weren't supposed to exist on twentieth-century maps! It was a wild range, full of deep, dark valleys sliced in between high, narrow ridges - perfect country for hiding a dragon, he thought, smiling. Several times he came upon a quiet, secluded pool and spent a day swimming, feeling as if he was the first human to have ever tread the places. Other times he hiked the ridge lines, the strong summer breeze against his skin.
In the middle of these uncharted Highlands, Jacob came upon the strangest of all sites: a high stone wall punctured only by a double gate which hung between pillars which supported a pair of stone winged boars. And beyond that, on a large knoll overlooking a loch, the largest castle he'd ever seen - and he'd seen a lot of castles!
Inviting himself for a look, Jacob passed between the stone winged boars and started up the long dirt lane that appeared to lead to the castle. It was still morning, and the newly-risen sun was shining full on the castle, the sun sparkling back from each of the castle's many windows, making it evident there was glass in each and every one - this was not an abandoned structure! He could see several small columns of smoke from various chimneys, testifying that someone still lived here!
Suddenly from around a bend in the lane there was a matronly-looking woman, somewhat slight of build and who carried herself with a calm self-assurance. She wore an emerald green robe and matching witch's hat, and her grey hair, pulled up in a tight bun, was definitely of the sort that had once been a fiery Scottish red, a flame that was still evident in the woman's snapping hazel eyes.
"May I help you?" asked the startled woman.
"Beautiful old castle," Jacob said as he pointed at the knoll above the lock.
"You can see it?" the woman seemed taken aback.
"Yes, shouldn't I?"
"I ask again: May I help you?"
Jacob nodded respectfully and decided to start the conversation over. "Good Morning, Madam. I've been hiking the Highlands for my summer holiday. I was just admiring your castle… "
"And you can see it? Unaided?" the woman seemed astonished.
"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" Jacob grinned a well-practiced grin. "Is there some sort of magic trying to prevent me from seeing it?"
The older woman looked him up and down several times before answering. "If you can see it, then there's no reason you shouldn't."
"That," Jacob said slowly, "was not an answer."
"And you, Sir," countered the woman, hoping to change the subject, "are half-naked in front of a lady." But Jacob noticed she didn’t turn her away but continued to memorize the view.
Jacob laughed as he lowered his pack to the ground and reached in for a plain white shirt with puffy sleeves, which he pulled over his head and then pulled the long ponytail out and let it drop down his back. "Now M’Lady can breathe a little safer," he said with a grin designed to dampen a bit of the fire in the woman's eyes.
"And I thank you, kind Sir," she countered with a slight smile, the fire abating just a bit as she reached for the drawstrings on the front of the shirt, pulled them nearly closed, and tied them in an efficient but nicely-tied bow. "Now: what is your business?"
"As I said, I was admiring your castle. Are there tours?"
"Certainly not; it's a school."
"A school prized for its privacy, I've no doubt."
"Yes, as a matter of … " But the woman stopped suddenly when her eyes caught sight the man's right hand, which was resting comfortable on the top of his walking stick - his right middle finger held a plain silver ring with ancient scroll work on it. The fire in her eyes hesitated but a second before she looked the man in the face. "Yes; it's a school. But the students were dismissed for their summer holiday yesterday." She paused, still watching the man's ring. "Your name, Sir?"
"Jacob."
"And your family name?"
"Of Ely." And since this was finally a formal introduction, he took her hand in his and kissed it, which dampened a little more of the fire in her eyes. Kiss completed, the woman raised the man's hand to get a better look at the ring - it was exactly what she thought it was! With the man's hand turned over, she could see a small engraving of a sleeping dragon on the palm side of the ring; something not normally visible.
"Well, Jacob of Ely," the woman said slowly, "I think I can arrange a tour for you." Jacob smiled and extended an elbow; a gentlemanly invitation to protect the fair lady on their walk. The woman, enough of a lady to appreciate the gesture, took the elbow, knowing she could then control the speed and direction of the walk.
"You're not from here, are you?"
"As I said, I'm from Ely."
"A few centuries ago, perhaps," the woman said dryly.
"So, you know the ring?"
"I do, Sir. I had a great-grandfather who wore one. His name was… "
McGonagall, I'm guessing," Jacob interrupted; "First name Angus. Just a guess, but you look very much like him… "
"Poor man." The woman smiled slightly.
Jacob smiled politely. "You have his eyes as well, Good Lady."
"Did you know him?"
"Still do. Good man. But don't cross him when he's trying
to teach. He takes his teaching very seriously."
"As do I." She paused. "I should like to see him again before I get much older."
"I'll let him know; I'm to see him in the Autumn."
"It's been so many years… "
"Good Lady - you still haven't told me your name."
"Minerva."
The lane led the pair around one end of the loch and on towards the castle. "Thestrals," Jacob said as the lane skirted a small comer of the school's forest, "You have thestrals!"
"The only known tame herd," Minerva said proudly. "Wonderful gamekeeper, you know. The bigger and more deadly the beast the happier he is."
"Acromantulas?"
She sighed. "He doesn't know we know, but yes. They may have to be cleaned out soon, though. It'll break his heart."
"Can't wait to meet him."
"Break him in slowly. We're aware he's been trying to acquire a dragon egg for some time, and if he knew… "
"I will be the height of discretion."
The great doors to the castle seemed to open of their own accord as the pair approached and entered. Midway up the grand staircase on the other side of the large entry was an older man, dressed all in robes and with a white beard and hair doing their best to reach the steps the man was descending.
"Professor," called Minerva, "Someone for you to meet." The old man descended the stairs with the step of a man half his apparent age and stood before the pair. "Professor, this is Jacob of Ely. Jacob, Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of our little school."
Being who he was, Albus Dumbledore spotted Jacob's discreet ring as quickly as Professor McGonagall had. He looked Jacob in the eyes, and after a moment of reflection smiled. "To what to we owe this honor?"
“As I told this lovely young lady," and Minerva smiled, embarrassed, "I've been hiking the Highlands on holiday… "
"You have holidays?"
"Life isn't all study and reflection and lecture, Professor."
"Indeed. I myself plan on a bit of racing this summer."
"As I was saying, I was hiking and came upon your beautiful castle. Minerva seemed surprised I could see it."
"Yes; we have certain protections in place to ensure the average person never discovers us."
"Well," Jacob said slowly, "If I'm not mistaken, then, have I accidentally stumbled upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"
Jacob was given a luxurious guest room high in one of the school's towers, complete with its own balcony and an Arabian-decorated bathing room with a pool large enough to hold a dragon. While he was putting the things from his backpack in a small dresser, Professor Dumbledore sent house elves to the guest room, carrying several dress robes as well as several everyday robes for his guest's use, including a chocolate-brown kimono which had a dragon embroidered across the back of the robe and across the two long sleeves that hung as far as the wearer's waist. Jacob smiled at the headmaster's sense of humor.
At a lunch attended by all the staff who'd not yet left for their own summer holiday, Professor Dumbledore introduced Jacob (who was wearing the dragon kimono) as a visiting historian who had literally stumbled across the school and who would be staying as long as he wished and invited the staff to be open and free with any questions or inquiries their guest may make about the school and its history.
PART TWO: The Scholar
After lunch Jacob returned to his room to change back into his kilt in order to accompany the tall, half-giant gamekeeper into the forest as he made his rounds to check on not only the thestrals but on several other herds of various magical animals. They returned in time for supper, Hagrid the gamekeeper as excited as a child on Christmas day; it took both Dumbledore and McGonagall most of supper to calm him down and to make him promise to keep the historian's unique nature a secret.
"But 'e waz flyin' wi' the thestrals!" Hagrid whispered loudly as Dumbledore nearly had to threaten the man with a silencing charm. "Ya shouldda seen! 'E's not all that big; seen far bigger ones in m' day! Right friendly, tho'… "
"Discrete, indeed!" McGonagall was heard huffing under her breath as the staff and their guest left the great hall following the evening meal.
The following morning Professor Dumbledore escorted his guest high into the castle to the library. "Here are the history shelves," Dumbledore waved his arms to take in the area in which Jacob was most interested. "Let me move the bench away from this table; you're probably used to sitting on your haunches… "
"I can get it, really," protested Jacob as he lifted the end of the bench opposite from where Dumbledore was pointing his wand.
"Yes, well. While you begin your study I'll just drop in on our librarian and give her an explanation. After so many years of teenage students, she still surprises quite easily."
Jacob found a book that seemed the least-used book in the history section: 'Hogwarts: A History', and took it back to the desk. Removing his robe so as to not ruin it, he closed his eyes and began to change…
"So you see," Dumbledore explained to Madam Pince, the old, vulture-faced librarian, "He's a member of a very ancient brotherhood who has spent several millennia collecting the history of mankind and processing it to better guide those who just might be listening - they've acted as court councilors, judges, and other such roles, completely undetected. Although human-born, members of this brotherhood are able to take on the persona you and I know as that one single creature considered the oldest and wisest of all - at least, they were considered so until those who were jealous of that wisdom spread rumors to the contrary."
"Are you telling me," Madam Pince said slowly, "that there's a Dragon in my library? A real Dragon, and not one of those filthy, overgrown reptiles Hagrid moons over?"
"Yes; a real Dragon has called upon our humble school. Come, let's take a peek." And that peek revealed a shiny gold Dragon at the table in the History section. It was merely man-sized and not of the giant beastly variety Hagrid was known to fancy. And, it was sitting on its haunches and carefully turning pages to a book with its man-sized claws; stacks and stacks of books on either side of him, either read or waiting to be read.
"I'm honored beyond belief," Madam Pince whispered. "But why the Dragon form to study?"
"The Dragon mind remembers what it has processed better and longer than the human mind. In his Dragon form, whatever he sees or experiences is implanted deeper and more permanently than it would be in the human form."
"He won't… That is to say… Well, is he properly… "
"He is a man underneath all those scales. If he is thoughtless enough to make a mess I will clean it up myself."
Jacob spent days in the library, reading as fast as he could - and impressing Madam Pince with the profound reverence he showed each and every book. By the time he was satisfied with what he'd read, nearly every staff member had caught word of who he was and had been up once or twice to discreetly peek at the strange gold Dragon with a passion for books.
PART THREE: Down the Chapel Aisle
After several weeks of intensive reading, Jacob rubbed his forehead and was tired of reading - after all, this was his holiday! He could come back on a later date and learn more, but right now he was supposed to be relaxing and enjoying himself! Many of the teachers had concluded their business for the school year and had left for their own holidays prior to the start of the next term; Minerva had even left for a family reunion but had returned on the very morning Jacob had decided he'd read enough and needed to see the school and its grounds.
"If it's not too forward of me," Minerva said as she and Jacob ambled their way along the second-floor hallway, which was full of statues of Hogwarts alumni, holding his elbow as on the day he arrived - she was giving Jacob a leisurely tour of the school. "How old are you?"
"A few hundred years younger than this school," Jacob replied.
"How did you become a Dragon?"
Jacob smiled. "I was page to a knight during the Lionheart's Crusade. My master was killed as we landed at Acre
and were immediately attacked, and I found myself running for my life. A strange man I’d never seen grabbed me at the end of a dark alley, turned into a dragon, and began to fly off with me.” He grinned. “Naturally I fainted. And, I woke up in the home of the Dragons."
"How long did it take to become a Dragon?"
"Wisdom is an eternal journey, Minerva." Professor McGonagall nodded agreement. "However, after learning to read and write my own language… "
"English?"
"English hadn't formalized yet. I was born a Saxon and spoke both Saxon and what became French. Then I had to learn Latin, of course… "
"Of course," agreed Minerva.
"Then I had to learn all the history that had been collected and give my interpretation of the mistakes and triumphs of mankind and what could have been done better through the ages. Then I was ready to go back out into the world and start gathering more Knowledge. A few centuries after that I began accepting positions where I could guide and council."
"How do the brethren come to transfigure?"
"I don't know," Jacob shrugged. "It just kind of happens one day. You know you've finally become a Dragon when you wake up one morning and have an incredible desire to jump off a cliff and fly. That’s one's formal entrance into the brotherhood."
"What of those who don't fly? Surely they don't fall to their death?"
Jacob shook his head. "One is literally held back until you claw your way through the rest of the brethren, who do their best to hold you back until you actually transform." He smiled. "Then there's no holding you back."
"And becoming a Dragon, your aging obviously slows down."
"Considerably. I was one of the very few who's ever transformed before puberty. Four-hundred years of puberty was pretty rough, I can tell you! But I survived it."
"I imagine transfiguring into a Dragon could be something of a stress relief for the not-so-average teenager," Minerva commented dryly.
Jacob only smiled. "Catching dinner on the fly and eating it live certainly helped with the anger."
Harry Potter - Three Short Stories Page 1
