Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Aimee Freeman and the Witch-Hunt ❯ Not A Joke ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Jay Queen 
Aimee meets a teacher from her new school and realizes she isn't crazy.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.03.2012 | Updated On: 12.18.2012 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.9K | Visits: 824 | Status: Work In Progress
Aimee meets a teacher from her new school and realizes she isn't crazy.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.03.2012 | Updated On: 12.18.2012 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.9K | Visits: 824 | Status: Work In Progress
CHAPTER ONE:
Not A Joke
"So you're really going through with it." A voice said suddenly from behind Aimee. Only the knowledge she was holding her grandmother's antique Victorian green and white Wedgwood tea set kept Aimee from jumping out of her skin at the sudden announcement. Aimee sat the set down not quite trusting herself to hold the porcelain, but also to stall. She didn't want to look at her sister until she was sure she could keep herself completely calm. It wouldn't be a good idea to show any of the second thoughts she was having about her decision.
When Aimee finally did straighten and turn, she found Laila leaning on the door frame glaring at the tea and snacks Aimee had laid out. Aimee fought back a sigh. It was worse than she expected. Laila looked ready for a fight. They rarely fought and when they did they forgave each other quickly, but it was never an enjoyable experience for Aimee. Laila was a terror when she thought she was right.
"Yes, I am." Aimee told her sister matching her surliness with a stubbornness that could rival Laila's any day.
Laila grimaced and turned her dark gaze away from the tea set to Aimee. It was always a shock at first for people when they realized Aimee and Laila were sisters. Laila had long straight dark hair, while Aimee had short dark auburn curls. Laila had the brightest blue eyes Aimee had ever seen, while Aimee had a green-hazel that liked to change colors depending on how she was feeling. Laila was tall and already with a well developing figure; while Aimee was small and slender. Laila wore a golden tan even in winter, while Aimee was so fair it looked like her hair and eyes sucked up all the color in her. Their personalities were even more opposite, but Aimee knew Laila loved her.
There laid the problem. Laila was being unreasonably protective. Aimee really was touched by her sister's concern. Laila rarely paid heed to anyone other than her line of dalliances and next amusing prospect. Laila lived for pleasure and fun, easily forgetting those who flocked around her. But she never forgot Aimee though. Something Aimee normally thought was a good thing. Now though all Aimee really wanted was for Laila to leave so she could get this over with, because Laila's worry really wasn't helping with the guilt Aimee felt.
"I still think it's fishy." Laila said eyebrows drawn together in a way Aimee knew meant her sister was seething on the inside.
"You saw the school." Aimee pointed calmly, turning back to the tea and snacks, lest her face betray her. Sometimes Laila was much too perceptive when it came to reading Aimee. Laila huffed from behind her.
"From a distance, then Benny remembered some weird appointment with a hair stylist and we had to leave before we even got to the gate." Laila didn't sound too thrilled with her current beau's actions and even less about not being able to see the Massachusetts School for the Gifted they'd gone to visit. Aimee felt the insane urge to tell Laila the truth all of the sudden, but shook it off. No, she'd sound insane. Aimee still wasn't sure rather she was insane for letting it go this far. She should have sent a letter back with the owl telling them that the joke was ridiculous, but then Laila saw the letter and it said something completely different from what Aimee saw. It seemed too elaborate to be a hoax. They had a cover school prepared for pity's sakes. Yet at the same time Aimee still couldn't completely accept it. And if she didn't, she certainly wasn't going to expect Laila to.
"I know you're worried, but the Colonel is next door and we both know he'd come running if I have any trouble. If the school is real and they're going through the trouble of sending one of their teachers do you really think it's some scam?" Aimee asked sounding so reasonable she almost believed it herself. She didn't look up the entire time though, simply straightening out the tea set and nervously adjusting the Russian Tea Cakes.
There was a pause and finally a blow of air that signaled Laila accepting defeat. Without warning Aimee felt herself being pulled into a hug from behind and something fastened around her neck.
"Fine." Laila huffed in her ear, hanging on her. "But you've got to keep on Gram's Life Alert necklace. The Colonel isn't a spring chicken anymore and it'll make me feel better to know you've got help within the reach of a button."
Aimee looked down at the familiar button hanging on its black string and the tan arms hugging her and it took all she had in her not to tell Laila the truth about what she planned and the letter. The guilt stabbed her viciously at the show of affection and she felt tears burning her eyes.
"Thanks sis. I'll be careful." Aimee said forcing back everything. Laila gave her one last squeeze and released.
"I know. You are the responsible one after all. I'll be at Benny's if you need me. His parents want to meet me." Laila announced, sounding a little put out at the prospect.
"They'll love you. They always do." Aimee assured her sister. She could practically hear the infectious part-cocky, part-sweet grin her sister was famous for appear at that.
"I know, Benny said the same thing." Then there was a pause. "L-Love you Aimee. I don't say it a lot, but I do. So be careful. It would suck to have to replace you this late in the game."
For Laila, who was horrible at telling people how she really felt, that was pretty huge and it made Aimee feel even more horrible for lying to her. Aimee nodded weakly and was released. She turned in time to see Laila's parting grin and wave. When the front door slammed shut behind Laila, Aimee fell onto the couch with a groan. She wished she'd never gotten that stupid letter. The past three weeks had been a nightmare of stress and disbelief. And the day it arrived had started out so normal too.
. . .
It was dead for real this time, Aimee decided. No amount of kicking it would make it start up. But that didn't stop her from giving it one in the dent that had been formed over the years by the previous owner. She really should have known better than to be a ten dollar dryer at the yard sale. She should have realized that the fact they were so eager about getting rid of it that they helped her get it home and set it up that something was wrong with it. But no, she was too happy about not being forced to use the clothes line anymore. It worked, but it took forever and was useless on rainy days. And for it to die when she had so much laundry to do.
Aimee glared weakly at all the baskets. It was her own fault really for letting it pile up. She'd been skimping on doing the laundry, which was always a long task, because she'd been babysitting the neighbors grandchildren for some extra money. Her mother's car insurance had increased because of the wreck she'd gotten into last spring. Aimee had been able to scratch by, because she'd stopped buying soda pop and got by on buying all their clothes at yard sales and thrift stores. Food stamps was also a big help. But recently the library had a pay cut so Isolde's already meager salary had been reduced, so every month when the bills came was cutting it close. Aimee had been going without a lot of things recently to pay for it, like pop tarts and that tea she liked drinking. She hadn't been to McDonalds or bought herself anything for a few months. This month had been particularly hard because of Laila's birthday. Aimee had worked hard to make it a good one, so Aimee had decided to get a job to make up for the difference.
Now though she had a broken dryer and ton of laundry. Aimee wondered if asking their elderly neighbor, Colonel Parker, if he'd help her would be imposing too much. He was good with appliances. He'd fixed their dish washer after all. He liked her too so he'd probably do it for free.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Or maybe it would be better to just go ahead a buy a new one? Aimee had a little emergency money saved up. But would it be worth using it just for a new dryer? If she spent it and there was another emergency, like a hospital visit or a fire, then she'd have to use Laila's college money. Something aimee had always refused to touch no matter how bad they needed money. Laila was smart and her dream college was one of the most expensive in the country. Laila was already working on some early scholarships even if she was just a freshman, but she'd need all the help she could get.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The Colonel or a new dryer? That was the question. Aimee wished that annoying tapping would stop though. It was hard to think with it getting louder and more insistent and she already had enough on her plate without what was no doubt the sound of something else in the house breaking. Aimee listened to it a few more seconds before she realized that it wasn't coming from inside the house, but from someone outside. Someone was knocking it sounded like. Horrified aimee realized they must have been waiting for a long time while she had her mental argument with herself. Aimee followed the sound feeling a little ashamed for leaving someone outside for so long and then she realized it wasn't coming from the front of the house, but the kitchen. What she found made her stare, not quite believing it.
There was an owl tapping on their kitchen window. A large tawny owl that paused its tapping when it caught sight of her giving her an indignant glare with its bright amber eyes. An owl with a letter clamped in its talons.
Aimee realized that it seemed to be trying to deliver a letter the same moment the owl gave a loud impatient screech. That shocked Aimee into action. Still surprised she opened the small window and only had a moment to wonder how the large owl would get in the small space before it easily made its way in with a surprising dexterity. It dropped the letter on the table and with one last, almost human offended glare it wiggled back out and flew away, clearly glad to be rid of her.
For a few moments Aimee couldn't quite believe that had really happened. She'd hard of carrier pigeons, but never owls. Could owls even be trained to do that? Maybe she was hallucinating, but the letter was still there no matter how hard she stared at it. So she did the only thing she could. She closed the window and picked it up. It had her name and address on it written by an oddly elegant hand in red ink. There was no return address. Aimee turned it over in her hands and found it had been sealed with a wax seal. It looked very old fashion, which went with the old style calligraphy used in the address and the odd feel of the envelope that was oddly different from plain paper. The seal looked like something nobility used centuries ago. It was set in dark red wax and the crest consisted of a snake biting its own tail forming a circle around a rose. She could barely make out something in the snakes scales.
Aut inveniam viam aut faciam
Aimee didn't know what language it was, much less what it meant. For some reason the sight made her mouth go dry and her heart clench with nerves. Aimee opened it, breaking the seal and after reading the first sentence her brain seemed to shut down.
Dear Miss Freeman,
You have been invited to attend Salem Witches Academy.
Numbly Aimee folded the parchment, it certainly wasn't paper, and gently placed it back in the envelope closing it and placing it in her hoodie front pocket. Aimee took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and decided to handle the dryer first. She had to do that first, then she could think of the letter. Forcing it to the back of her mind, Aimee opened the back door and made her way along her house to the front yard, where she crossed over to the neighbors, easily stepping over the short white fence Mrs. Parker had put up. Aimee stepped on to the small porch, breathing in the deep scent of the the violets that grew in the front garden and window boxes. The smell, one she'd known as along as she could remember helped calm her more than anything. She didn't even have the chance to knock before the door was opened by Mrs. Parker.
Mrs. Parker and the Colonel had been their only neighbors since their family had moved from Plymouth to Haven. The two houses were settled in the woods that took over the end of the neighborhood. It was a small woodsy area, but it cut off the two houses at the end of Lakewood Road from the view of everyone else. It gave them a secluded, quiet feel. The old couple had enjoyed the privacy they'd had next to the long empty house, but had welcomed them warmly and had been helping them ever since. Aimee had only been a month old then and could remember no other home. She could still remember visiting Mrs. Parker with Grams when she'd been alive. The house was as familiar as her own.
Mrs. Parker was a small woman, only an inch or two taller than Aimee's small height. She'd clearly been a very beautiful girl and was still good looking in her old age with gleaming silver hair, dark warm brown eyes and a thin face with soft full lips and a pointed chin. She was wearing the white apron with violets embroidered in it that aimee had bought her for her birthday two years ago. The moment she saw aimee she smiled widely.
"Hello Mrs. Parker. I hope I'm not bothering you, but the dryer is acting up again and I was wondering if the colonel would mind looking at it?" Aimee asked softly, one hand in her front pocket, curling her fingers around and then uncurling around the letter hidden within.
"Of course not dear," Mrs. Parker said in her high, musical voice that always carried a hint of elegance and gentle grace that always told you she'd been raised a lady of high class despite her modest house and clothes. Once Aimee had asked about why she talked so different and Mrs. Parker had said she'd been the heiress of an oil tycoon who'd fallen in love with the gardener's son and been promptly disowned.
"I'll send Sydney right over. You don't have to ask dear, we are so thankful for you watching the kids. Besides Laila and you are just extra grandchildren by now." Mrs. Parker assured her, but then paused eyes softening with concern as she looked Aimee over.
"Is there something wrong dear? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine ma'am. Thank you and the Colonel for your help." Aimee said quickly shaking her head as she spoke to emphasize that nothing was wrong. "I should go hang the laundry now so it'll be dry before night comes. The front door isn't locked so the Colonel can go right in."
"Of course." Mrs. Parker said, eyes knowing and looking like she didn't believe Aimee at all. "Just remember we're here if you need us. You're a responsible girl and I hope you'll remember that there is nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it. Especially when the helpers begrudge you none of it."
"I know." Aimee said after a pause allowing some of her feeling to creep in, making her voice thick and a little quivering. "I've always known. Thank you."
Mrs. Parker nodded giving Aimee one last worried look before ducking back in the house to find the Colonel. Aimee practically ran back to her house and only paused long enough to grab the wet clothes out of the now useless dryer, before she left once again through the back door. This time she headed towards the clothes line hanging between two trees. The task helped her calm back down and by the time she was finished she felt ready to read the letter. Swallowing hard she sat down under one of the trees and opened the letter.
Dear Miss Freeman,
You have been invited to attend Salem Witches Academy. Salem has a history for turning out exceptional witches and, since the school became co-education in 1999, fine young wizards. Your owl is to be expected by August 1st. Muggleborn students (those students with non-magical parents) will have in person meetings with members of Salem staff to help the students and their families adjust to the news and answer any questions.
Sincerely Yours,
His Highness, Prince Hadrian Rowling
Headmistress Kayla Ross
Your meeting is scheduled for 3:30 P.M. July 27, 2017 with Professor Salem Eason.
Aimee hid the letter in the bottom of her sock drawer and didn't think of it until two weeks later. Laila had been out again and was sneaking back in through Aimee's window which was close to the more manageable climbing tree. It had been a cold night so Laila had decided to borrow some socks. What followed was aimee being woken up in the middle of the night, she was too used to Laila sneaking in to wake to it anymore, and them having a long discussion about the letter. A letter that to Laila said something completely different. Something about a school for the gifted with a phone number, address, and website, with nothing about witches or princes.
. . .
Even now sitting in her living room with tea and snacks, dressed in her best clothes waiting Aimee still isn't completely sure if she was doing the right thing. Even if she knew it was the best choice there was still a bit of hesitation she didn't like. There was also questions. What would the professor look like? Was it a woman or man? Why was there a prince mentioned? Did this have anything to do with her father?
Ding-brrring.
Aimee jumped to her feet instantly at the sound this was what she'd been waiting for. When she got to the door though she paused. It was still possible to change her mind. She didn't have to go through with it. She could give it up. Do what that small desperate part of her had been pleading for since she read the letter. Aimee shook her head feeling a mix of shame and frustration that she could still be undecided after three weeks of considering and fretting. She'd made her decision and she would stick to it.
She opened the door to find the complete opposite of what she was expecting. It was a rather normal looking blonde woman in a pale blue dress suit. She was very young, in her mid twenties it looked like with a soft pretty round face, gentle grey eyes and long golden lashes the same color as her straight wheat-colored hair. She looked like a preschool teacher or someone aimee would see in the grocery store. The woman smiled at aimee brightly her eyes glowing happily and aimee had the odd feeling that she was the type who never stopped smiling.
"Professor Eason?" Aimee questioned warily.
"Correct, I assume you're Miss Freeman?" the woman asked and when she spoke Aimee noted an accent. She couldn't place it though, but it sounded vaguely Eastern European, yet somehow Aimee didn't think this woman was a foreigner. Just something about her smooth and effortless she spoke didn't sound right for someone who English was a second or more language for.
"Yes, please come in Professor." Aimee said deciding where the Professor came from wasn't really important. Aimee stepped back to allow the woman in and Professor Eason entered looking around the house curiously. As Aimee shut the door she noted a strange ring on the woman's hand. It was a stone she didn't recognize gleaming with red's, oranges, and pinks Aimee had never seen. It seemed to glimmer even brighter at Aimee's glance.
"I suppose you have questions Miss Freeman." Professor Eason said mildly her smile still in place. Aimee nodded and straightened fighting the urge not to fuss over her clothes under those soft grey eyes. Something about this woman made her simultaneously wary and at ease. The conflicting emotions wasn't helping her keep her head and she felt ridiculous at seeming so nervous.
"We can talk in the living room professor." Aimee told her taking the lead and showing the woman the way. Professor Eason followed easily and as they settled she eyed the tea and snacks with clear approval and mild amusement.
"Would you like some tea?" Aimee questioned pouring herself a class and feeling a bit more at ease with the familiar task and the smell of her grandmother's favorite past time.
"Yes, Miss Freeman and thank you." Aimee quickly complied and was soon sipping her tea butterflies settling. Professor Eason didn't stopped smiling even as she drank delicately from her cup and looked Aimee over carefully. After a few moments of staring at each other in silence Professor Eason set down her cup and cleared her throat softly.
"I suppose I should formally introduce myself. I am Professor Salem Eason one of the history teachers at Salem." For a moment aimee was a little surprised at such a normal occupation at a magic school. But she supposed it would be expected. All people had their history, magical people wouldn't likely be an exception.
"More specifically I teach American Magical History, my colleague Professor Estes is the History of Magic teacher. Her class covers it on a global scale, while my class, as the name suggests, focuses solely on the Kingdom of America."
Aimee almost choked on her tea. Coughing slightly she set down her own cup and stared at Professor Eason a little choked. The woman looked expectant and unsurprised by the reaction.
"Kingdom of America?" Aimee asked weakly. Professor Eason nodded looking as if she'd expected this and when she spoke it sounded rehearsed.
"Yes, the countries you know as America and Canada to the Magical Community are the United Kingdom of America and Canada. We're a constitutional democracy of sorts. We have a King or Queen chosen from the Seven Royal Families and there is still nobility around. It is forbidden to chose an heir from the King or Queen's own family, so they are forced to choose from the others and this helps prevent one family from staying in power for long periods which would cause tension among the other royals. However the King or Queen has no real power and the government is actually a democratic one called the confederation with an elected President." Professor Eason paused and gave Aimee a sympathetic look, which was the only thing of her speech that didn't look like it was prepared before hand. "The current monarch is Her Serene Majesty, Queen Aeronwenn of the Cladecote Family. Our current president is Taylor Trade."
"Canada is part of America? How?" Aimee questioned and Professor Eason's smile grew into a grin.
"That is something you learn in my class, but yes it is." Professor Eason paused her smile actually fading for a moment as she looked Aimee over critically, but with an oddly impressed look. "You are taking this rather easier than most Miss Freeman. You haven't asked for proof or told me that I was insane."
"What proof would you give me if I asked for it?" Aimee asked, now truly curious. Professor Eason calmly pulled out a long stick from the inside of her suit and with a small wave turned her tea cup into a hamster and back again. Something in Aimee, a knot of long held anxiety, relaxed at that and she smiled for the first time since Professor Eason had arrived. She couldn't prevent the sigh of relief or how she relaxed in her chair feeling a little limp.
"You still aren't reacting as our students normally do." Professor Eason noted mildly, curiosity blooming on her pretty smiling again face.
"You aren't exactly what I expected either." Aimee countered straightening feeling a little lighter even as a grim certainty started to creep in. Even if this did confirm she wasn't crazy, which was something that she'd been worrying about somewhere deep inside herself for years that didn't mean she would change her mind now. "You haven't asked where my mother is."
Professor Eason looked a little surprised and eyed Aimee with a bit of respect. "Sometimes our students are uncomfortable with revealing the truth to their families at first. They were unaware of what was truly behind the odd things that we know as accidental magic, which is perfectly normal for magical children. For Muggleborn students, like yourself, there isn't an explanation and they can be scared. That's why we send someone to personally explain it and there are some cases of course when the parents do not approve of having a witch or wizard in their family. The staff member can help control the situation and, if necessary, erase the parents' memories and make arrangements for the child's safety. Some of our students attend Salem without their parents realizing they are being educated in magic. That is why our cover school is a necessity."
"That makes since." Aimee agreed mildly her mind reeling at the information. Erase memories? Accidental magic? "I always knew I was a bit different. So the things I've done was accidental magic?"
"Most likely, yes. Could you tell me some of what it is exactly?"
Aimee paused for a moment and used the excuse of pouring herself another cup, she hadn't even noticed she'd finished until she couldn't taste anymore, while she considered what to say. Gripping the fresh cup tightly in her hands aimee answered slowly, considering each word as she spoke. "I've moved things that were to high for me to reach without touching them. Once when I was angry half the town's power went off without any explanation. Once my sister fell out of a tree and snapped her leg. I saw it before anyone else and it was horrible the bone was bent completely wrong and all I wanted was to help her. I told her not to look and I—"
Aimee paused feeling suddenly wary of telling someone something she'd been keeping secret for years. Professor Eason looked expectant and Aimee couldn't hold back. This woman had turned a tea cup into a hamster. She at least knew Aimee really could do these things and that she wasn't strange and abnormal for being able to.
"I thought that since I'd been able to do unexplainable things before maybe I could do it this time. Laila wouldn't look at it and was crying and screaming, so she wouldn't see. I touched the leg and just concentrated. At first nothing happened but then the leg started to fix itself. By the time Laila looked up the bones were set and the leg was just a big bruise. The doctor said it was just a bad sprain and bad bruising. Laila thought she'd just imagined how bad it was because she was scared, but I'd seen it. I saw how bad it was. I snakes in the garden said I was a natural Healer—"
"Snakes?" Professor Eason interrupted tensing up, but almost instantly relaxing trying to hide the reaction. Aimee suddenly felt uneasy and wondered if perhaps she wasn't normal even for a witch.
"Yes. I can talk to snakes. They called me a Speaker and Healer. Is that odd?" Aimee watched the woman carefully and noted her smile was a little tight and that she was worrying her ring as she considered. The stone looked almost like the sun with the way its colors were changing and glowing.
"It's rare, but not totally unheard." Professor Eason assured calmly. Aimee didn't buy it for a second.
"If it's so normal why are you so tense?" Aimee demanded sharply. Professor Eason blinked looking a bit startled that Aimee caught, but spoke.
"It won't be much of a problem at Salem, one of our teachers is a Parselmouth, which is the correct term for one who can speak to snakes. In certain places of the world though there is certain prejudice applied to it. Especially in Eastern Europe, the United Kingdom particularly." Professor Eason explained in a very a matter of fact manner. "Several of the more famous, or rather infamous, Parselmouths had a reputation for Dark Magic. Salazar Slytherin and his descendent, a man named Tom Riddle who titled himself Lord Voldemort, made Parselmouths particularly infamous. Slytherin was a founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school itself is considered one of the best in Europe if a bit unorthodox. Slytherin was well known as a Muggle and Muggleborn hater and his descendents down to Voldemort kept up that prejudice. Because of him and several others Parselmouths became considered Dark, even if the magic itself is used mainly for healing and protection. Voldemort started two separate Wizarding Wars in the United Kingdom on the basis of getting rid of Muggles and Muggleborns along with any blood traitors, a term applied to Purebloods and half-bloods who have friendlier views, until his final defeat in 1998 by a famous British wizard named Harry Potter. Because of this and many Parselmouths, though the gift itself is rare, fled to the New world. We have a much more accepting attitude to their gift here. But in the United Kingdom, even now there is the prejudice. I don't doubt that British Parselmouths, if any remain, keep their gift a secret. You Miss Freeman will not have to though. And if you wish can receive special training in your gift at Salem."
"That's not needed." Aimee told her making the woman stare. Aimee elaborated knowing that the time had come. "I won't need extra training, because I won't be attending Salem."
Professor Eason didn't say anything for a few moments her grey eyes simply starring into Aimee clearly taken aback. Aimee waited, she'd expected as much.
"But why?" the woman finally managed.
"I'm needed here." Aimee said and hesitated steeling herself. Here came the hard part. She had to tell the truth about her family if she wanted this to end. She had to make this woman see, and perhaps the small part of Aimee that had protested against her decision to not go all along.
"When my father left my mother fell apart. I know Isolde does care for us somewhere, but I also know that no matter how horrible it may sound she loved my father more than anyone else in the world. I've accepted this and I don't hate her for it, but it meant when he left it destroyed her. She couldn't work, which meant we had no money, which meant no food. My sister called our grandmother, Grams, and she moved in. She took care of things until she died when I was seven." Aimee swallowed and looked down at the tea finding it easier to tell if she looked at it instead of Professor Eason's shocked face. She'd practiced this she could do it. She had to. "I took over. Isolde was a bit better and she could start working again, but I made sure the money went towards the bills and food. I cleaned the house and took care of Isolde and Laila the best I could. Laila's a bit wild and I'm the only one she'll listen to. I take care of arranging doctor's appointments and making sure Isolde knows to call ahead and say she won't make them so that we can go alone. I make sure we have something to eat ever night for dinner. I settle the fights Isolde and Laila have. I can't leave. It's my responsibility to take care of my family, because I'm the only one that can."
Aimee was met with silence. Reluctantly she looked up to find Professor Eason looking at her with awe and an intense emotion she couldn't quite recognize. Professor Eason opened her mouth to say something, but before she could they were interrupted.
"Is that how you really feel?" a shocked, horrified voice said from the living room entrance. Aimee stiffened horror coursing through. She knew that voice. Sure enough it was her mother, home three hours early from work and looking sickly pale her bright blue eyes that Laila had inherited bright and brimming with so many emotions Aimee couldn't categorize them all.
"My god. What have I done." Isolde Freeman breathed out looking stricken. Time seemed to slow down for Aimee as she watched Isolde walk towards her and gently place a small hand on Aimee's shoulder. Aimee wasn't sure rather she should feel relieved or horrified that someone knew her secret. All she could feel was an incredible numbness and perhaps a little fear. It didn't matter Isolde looked horrified enough for them both. Was it so horrible that I'm a witch? A small hurt voice in the back of Aimee's mind questioned and aimee felt her mouth go dry and her throat close.
"I'd like to talk to my daughter for a few moments in private, would you please wait here Miss?" Isolde began shakily, straightening and looking determined. She looked just like Laila and Aimee was struck by how much her sister took after their mother in looks. Except for the lines grief had etched on her face and the accompanying grey streaking her dark hair they were exactly the same look wise.
"My name is Eason, ma'am. I don't mind at all." the woman said politely adverting her gaze, but not before throwing Aimee an odd searching look. Isolde nodded her acknowledgment and dumbly Aimee stood and followed her mother to the kitchen. Isolde quietly closed the door behind them and turned to face Aimee. She looked pained.
"Oh Aimee, calm down sweetheart. You look like you're going to cry. I'm not upset with you, but myself." Isolde assured her.
Aimee starred. She did? She finally noticed the burning in her eyes. She'd been too distracted by the shaky terror inside her which was starting to break through the numbness to notice. Aimee tried to calm down, but judging by Isolde's expression she didn't succeed.
"H-How much did you hear?" Aimee squeaked out shakily, her voice sounding so weak and high pitched she scared herself. She quickly laced her shaking fingers together and looked down at them trying to focus on anything but the woman in front of her.
"Only you telling this Eason woman your feelings." Isolde told her and suddenly choked back a sob looking ready to cry herself. "I'm so sorry Aimee, I never knew you felt that way."
Aimee stared not sure exactly what to do. She'd thought Isolde had been distressed over finding out her daughter was a witch. If she hadn't heard then what had upset her.
"I don't understand." I'm blurted out too confused to guard her words. Isolde shook her head starting to cry silently.
"Of course not, you're too selfless just like your father. He never did see anything wrong with giving his all for everyone else either. I swear Aimee thing will change." Isolde said looking fierce and stubborn. She grabbed Aimee's shoulders and bent down to look her directly in the eye. "I'm turning over a new leaf. It's time for me to be the mother not you. I'm so sorry it took me so long to realize that. Can you ever forgive me?"
"I-I-" Was all Aimee could manage. She felt like a dear caught in the gaze of car's headlights right before it was ran over. Her mother was looking at her though, so desperate and apologetic. Aimee swallowed hard. The wrong answer could destroy her she had to say something. "Yes."
Isolde's whole face lit up and she pulled Aimee into a tight hug. Aimee returned it falling back into her numb state now that the fear of rejection was gone. This was too sudden, too strange from what her life had been to process. Finally though Isolde released her.
"Now who is this Eason and why is she here?" Isolde asked seriously, looking lighter, but with a new found purpose about her giving her a liveliness Aimee couldn't remember seeing.
"She's a Professor of History at a school that offered me a scholarship. She came to discuss it with me" Aimee answered automatically. Isolde frowned.
"Why wasn't I informed?"
"I don't plan on going and the meeting was scheduled for while you were at work. I was handling it." Aimee explained softly and Isolde looked at her suspiciously at 'while you were at work' part, but softened.
"Do you want to go?" Isolde questioned looking her right in the eyes again.
Aimee froze. Yes. Part of her screamed determinedly. She didn't know what to say. Aimee didn't like lying on principle and hadn't unless you counted omission of what she'd long considered her strangeness. Since she'd gotten her letter though she seemed to be doing a lot of it and it had been hard, incredibly hard to do it. The thought of lying again, when some part of her, perhaps bigger than she'd really wanted to admit, wanted nothing more than to learn more about this new world and go. Before Aimee could find her words though Isolde made her own decision taking Aimee's silence as answer.
"Wait here." she ordered and left looking grim and maybe a little ashamed.
Everything is falling apart, Aimee realized stunned. I don't know why Isolde came home, but she isn't going to let me say no. I'm going to have to go to Salem aren't I?
Aimee fell into a kitchen chair feeling a horrible lack of control and despair. She already knew what would happen, it wasn't just a gut feeling either. Aimee knew. Like she'd known Grams was going to die. And whenever Aimee knew something, it happened rather she liked it or not. When Isolde walked in ten minutes later with a brochure for the Massachusetts School for the Gifted Aimee was only surprised by one thing. Professor Eason hadn't told her about the magic. She'd let Aimee keep that secret. But, why?
Not A Joke
"So you're really going through with it." A voice said suddenly from behind Aimee. Only the knowledge she was holding her grandmother's antique Victorian green and white Wedgwood tea set kept Aimee from jumping out of her skin at the sudden announcement. Aimee sat the set down not quite trusting herself to hold the porcelain, but also to stall. She didn't want to look at her sister until she was sure she could keep herself completely calm. It wouldn't be a good idea to show any of the second thoughts she was having about her decision.
When Aimee finally did straighten and turn, she found Laila leaning on the door frame glaring at the tea and snacks Aimee had laid out. Aimee fought back a sigh. It was worse than she expected. Laila looked ready for a fight. They rarely fought and when they did they forgave each other quickly, but it was never an enjoyable experience for Aimee. Laila was a terror when she thought she was right.
"Yes, I am." Aimee told her sister matching her surliness with a stubbornness that could rival Laila's any day.
Laila grimaced and turned her dark gaze away from the tea set to Aimee. It was always a shock at first for people when they realized Aimee and Laila were sisters. Laila had long straight dark hair, while Aimee had short dark auburn curls. Laila had the brightest blue eyes Aimee had ever seen, while Aimee had a green-hazel that liked to change colors depending on how she was feeling. Laila was tall and already with a well developing figure; while Aimee was small and slender. Laila wore a golden tan even in winter, while Aimee was so fair it looked like her hair and eyes sucked up all the color in her. Their personalities were even more opposite, but Aimee knew Laila loved her.
There laid the problem. Laila was being unreasonably protective. Aimee really was touched by her sister's concern. Laila rarely paid heed to anyone other than her line of dalliances and next amusing prospect. Laila lived for pleasure and fun, easily forgetting those who flocked around her. But she never forgot Aimee though. Something Aimee normally thought was a good thing. Now though all Aimee really wanted was for Laila to leave so she could get this over with, because Laila's worry really wasn't helping with the guilt Aimee felt.
"I still think it's fishy." Laila said eyebrows drawn together in a way Aimee knew meant her sister was seething on the inside.
"You saw the school." Aimee pointed calmly, turning back to the tea and snacks, lest her face betray her. Sometimes Laila was much too perceptive when it came to reading Aimee. Laila huffed from behind her.
"From a distance, then Benny remembered some weird appointment with a hair stylist and we had to leave before we even got to the gate." Laila didn't sound too thrilled with her current beau's actions and even less about not being able to see the Massachusetts School for the Gifted they'd gone to visit. Aimee felt the insane urge to tell Laila the truth all of the sudden, but shook it off. No, she'd sound insane. Aimee still wasn't sure rather she was insane for letting it go this far. She should have sent a letter back with the owl telling them that the joke was ridiculous, but then Laila saw the letter and it said something completely different from what Aimee saw. It seemed too elaborate to be a hoax. They had a cover school prepared for pity's sakes. Yet at the same time Aimee still couldn't completely accept it. And if she didn't, she certainly wasn't going to expect Laila to.
"I know you're worried, but the Colonel is next door and we both know he'd come running if I have any trouble. If the school is real and they're going through the trouble of sending one of their teachers do you really think it's some scam?" Aimee asked sounding so reasonable she almost believed it herself. She didn't look up the entire time though, simply straightening out the tea set and nervously adjusting the Russian Tea Cakes.
There was a pause and finally a blow of air that signaled Laila accepting defeat. Without warning Aimee felt herself being pulled into a hug from behind and something fastened around her neck.
"Fine." Laila huffed in her ear, hanging on her. "But you've got to keep on Gram's Life Alert necklace. The Colonel isn't a spring chicken anymore and it'll make me feel better to know you've got help within the reach of a button."
Aimee looked down at the familiar button hanging on its black string and the tan arms hugging her and it took all she had in her not to tell Laila the truth about what she planned and the letter. The guilt stabbed her viciously at the show of affection and she felt tears burning her eyes.
"Thanks sis. I'll be careful." Aimee said forcing back everything. Laila gave her one last squeeze and released.
"I know. You are the responsible one after all. I'll be at Benny's if you need me. His parents want to meet me." Laila announced, sounding a little put out at the prospect.
"They'll love you. They always do." Aimee assured her sister. She could practically hear the infectious part-cocky, part-sweet grin her sister was famous for appear at that.
"I know, Benny said the same thing." Then there was a pause. "L-Love you Aimee. I don't say it a lot, but I do. So be careful. It would suck to have to replace you this late in the game."
For Laila, who was horrible at telling people how she really felt, that was pretty huge and it made Aimee feel even more horrible for lying to her. Aimee nodded weakly and was released. She turned in time to see Laila's parting grin and wave. When the front door slammed shut behind Laila, Aimee fell onto the couch with a groan. She wished she'd never gotten that stupid letter. The past three weeks had been a nightmare of stress and disbelief. And the day it arrived had started out so normal too.
. . .
It was dead for real this time, Aimee decided. No amount of kicking it would make it start up. But that didn't stop her from giving it one in the dent that had been formed over the years by the previous owner. She really should have known better than to be a ten dollar dryer at the yard sale. She should have realized that the fact they were so eager about getting rid of it that they helped her get it home and set it up that something was wrong with it. But no, she was too happy about not being forced to use the clothes line anymore. It worked, but it took forever and was useless on rainy days. And for it to die when she had so much laundry to do.
Aimee glared weakly at all the baskets. It was her own fault really for letting it pile up. She'd been skimping on doing the laundry, which was always a long task, because she'd been babysitting the neighbors grandchildren for some extra money. Her mother's car insurance had increased because of the wreck she'd gotten into last spring. Aimee had been able to scratch by, because she'd stopped buying soda pop and got by on buying all their clothes at yard sales and thrift stores. Food stamps was also a big help. But recently the library had a pay cut so Isolde's already meager salary had been reduced, so every month when the bills came was cutting it close. Aimee had been going without a lot of things recently to pay for it, like pop tarts and that tea she liked drinking. She hadn't been to McDonalds or bought herself anything for a few months. This month had been particularly hard because of Laila's birthday. Aimee had worked hard to make it a good one, so Aimee had decided to get a job to make up for the difference.
Now though she had a broken dryer and ton of laundry. Aimee wondered if asking their elderly neighbor, Colonel Parker, if he'd help her would be imposing too much. He was good with appliances. He'd fixed their dish washer after all. He liked her too so he'd probably do it for free.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Or maybe it would be better to just go ahead a buy a new one? Aimee had a little emergency money saved up. But would it be worth using it just for a new dryer? If she spent it and there was another emergency, like a hospital visit or a fire, then she'd have to use Laila's college money. Something aimee had always refused to touch no matter how bad they needed money. Laila was smart and her dream college was one of the most expensive in the country. Laila was already working on some early scholarships even if she was just a freshman, but she'd need all the help she could get.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The Colonel or a new dryer? That was the question. Aimee wished that annoying tapping would stop though. It was hard to think with it getting louder and more insistent and she already had enough on her plate without what was no doubt the sound of something else in the house breaking. Aimee listened to it a few more seconds before she realized that it wasn't coming from inside the house, but from someone outside. Someone was knocking it sounded like. Horrified aimee realized they must have been waiting for a long time while she had her mental argument with herself. Aimee followed the sound feeling a little ashamed for leaving someone outside for so long and then she realized it wasn't coming from the front of the house, but the kitchen. What she found made her stare, not quite believing it.
There was an owl tapping on their kitchen window. A large tawny owl that paused its tapping when it caught sight of her giving her an indignant glare with its bright amber eyes. An owl with a letter clamped in its talons.
Aimee realized that it seemed to be trying to deliver a letter the same moment the owl gave a loud impatient screech. That shocked Aimee into action. Still surprised she opened the small window and only had a moment to wonder how the large owl would get in the small space before it easily made its way in with a surprising dexterity. It dropped the letter on the table and with one last, almost human offended glare it wiggled back out and flew away, clearly glad to be rid of her.
For a few moments Aimee couldn't quite believe that had really happened. She'd hard of carrier pigeons, but never owls. Could owls even be trained to do that? Maybe she was hallucinating, but the letter was still there no matter how hard she stared at it. So she did the only thing she could. She closed the window and picked it up. It had her name and address on it written by an oddly elegant hand in red ink. There was no return address. Aimee turned it over in her hands and found it had been sealed with a wax seal. It looked very old fashion, which went with the old style calligraphy used in the address and the odd feel of the envelope that was oddly different from plain paper. The seal looked like something nobility used centuries ago. It was set in dark red wax and the crest consisted of a snake biting its own tail forming a circle around a rose. She could barely make out something in the snakes scales.
Aut inveniam viam aut faciam
Aimee didn't know what language it was, much less what it meant. For some reason the sight made her mouth go dry and her heart clench with nerves. Aimee opened it, breaking the seal and after reading the first sentence her brain seemed to shut down.
Dear Miss Freeman,
You have been invited to attend Salem Witches Academy.
Numbly Aimee folded the parchment, it certainly wasn't paper, and gently placed it back in the envelope closing it and placing it in her hoodie front pocket. Aimee took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and decided to handle the dryer first. She had to do that first, then she could think of the letter. Forcing it to the back of her mind, Aimee opened the back door and made her way along her house to the front yard, where she crossed over to the neighbors, easily stepping over the short white fence Mrs. Parker had put up. Aimee stepped on to the small porch, breathing in the deep scent of the the violets that grew in the front garden and window boxes. The smell, one she'd known as along as she could remember helped calm her more than anything. She didn't even have the chance to knock before the door was opened by Mrs. Parker.
Mrs. Parker and the Colonel had been their only neighbors since their family had moved from Plymouth to Haven. The two houses were settled in the woods that took over the end of the neighborhood. It was a small woodsy area, but it cut off the two houses at the end of Lakewood Road from the view of everyone else. It gave them a secluded, quiet feel. The old couple had enjoyed the privacy they'd had next to the long empty house, but had welcomed them warmly and had been helping them ever since. Aimee had only been a month old then and could remember no other home. She could still remember visiting Mrs. Parker with Grams when she'd been alive. The house was as familiar as her own.
Mrs. Parker was a small woman, only an inch or two taller than Aimee's small height. She'd clearly been a very beautiful girl and was still good looking in her old age with gleaming silver hair, dark warm brown eyes and a thin face with soft full lips and a pointed chin. She was wearing the white apron with violets embroidered in it that aimee had bought her for her birthday two years ago. The moment she saw aimee she smiled widely.
"Hello Mrs. Parker. I hope I'm not bothering you, but the dryer is acting up again and I was wondering if the colonel would mind looking at it?" Aimee asked softly, one hand in her front pocket, curling her fingers around and then uncurling around the letter hidden within.
"Of course not dear," Mrs. Parker said in her high, musical voice that always carried a hint of elegance and gentle grace that always told you she'd been raised a lady of high class despite her modest house and clothes. Once Aimee had asked about why she talked so different and Mrs. Parker had said she'd been the heiress of an oil tycoon who'd fallen in love with the gardener's son and been promptly disowned.
"I'll send Sydney right over. You don't have to ask dear, we are so thankful for you watching the kids. Besides Laila and you are just extra grandchildren by now." Mrs. Parker assured her, but then paused eyes softening with concern as she looked Aimee over.
"Is there something wrong dear? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine ma'am. Thank you and the Colonel for your help." Aimee said quickly shaking her head as she spoke to emphasize that nothing was wrong. "I should go hang the laundry now so it'll be dry before night comes. The front door isn't locked so the Colonel can go right in."
"Of course." Mrs. Parker said, eyes knowing and looking like she didn't believe Aimee at all. "Just remember we're here if you need us. You're a responsible girl and I hope you'll remember that there is nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it. Especially when the helpers begrudge you none of it."
"I know." Aimee said after a pause allowing some of her feeling to creep in, making her voice thick and a little quivering. "I've always known. Thank you."
Mrs. Parker nodded giving Aimee one last worried look before ducking back in the house to find the Colonel. Aimee practically ran back to her house and only paused long enough to grab the wet clothes out of the now useless dryer, before she left once again through the back door. This time she headed towards the clothes line hanging between two trees. The task helped her calm back down and by the time she was finished she felt ready to read the letter. Swallowing hard she sat down under one of the trees and opened the letter.
Dear Miss Freeman,
You have been invited to attend Salem Witches Academy. Salem has a history for turning out exceptional witches and, since the school became co-education in 1999, fine young wizards. Your owl is to be expected by August 1st. Muggleborn students (those students with non-magical parents) will have in person meetings with members of Salem staff to help the students and their families adjust to the news and answer any questions.
Sincerely Yours,
His Highness, Prince Hadrian Rowling
Headmistress Kayla Ross
Your meeting is scheduled for 3:30 P.M. July 27, 2017 with Professor Salem Eason.
Aimee hid the letter in the bottom of her sock drawer and didn't think of it until two weeks later. Laila had been out again and was sneaking back in through Aimee's window which was close to the more manageable climbing tree. It had been a cold night so Laila had decided to borrow some socks. What followed was aimee being woken up in the middle of the night, she was too used to Laila sneaking in to wake to it anymore, and them having a long discussion about the letter. A letter that to Laila said something completely different. Something about a school for the gifted with a phone number, address, and website, with nothing about witches or princes.
. . .
Even now sitting in her living room with tea and snacks, dressed in her best clothes waiting Aimee still isn't completely sure if she was doing the right thing. Even if she knew it was the best choice there was still a bit of hesitation she didn't like. There was also questions. What would the professor look like? Was it a woman or man? Why was there a prince mentioned? Did this have anything to do with her father?
Ding-brrring.
Aimee jumped to her feet instantly at the sound this was what she'd been waiting for. When she got to the door though she paused. It was still possible to change her mind. She didn't have to go through with it. She could give it up. Do what that small desperate part of her had been pleading for since she read the letter. Aimee shook her head feeling a mix of shame and frustration that she could still be undecided after three weeks of considering and fretting. She'd made her decision and she would stick to it.
She opened the door to find the complete opposite of what she was expecting. It was a rather normal looking blonde woman in a pale blue dress suit. She was very young, in her mid twenties it looked like with a soft pretty round face, gentle grey eyes and long golden lashes the same color as her straight wheat-colored hair. She looked like a preschool teacher or someone aimee would see in the grocery store. The woman smiled at aimee brightly her eyes glowing happily and aimee had the odd feeling that she was the type who never stopped smiling.
"Professor Eason?" Aimee questioned warily.
"Correct, I assume you're Miss Freeman?" the woman asked and when she spoke Aimee noted an accent. She couldn't place it though, but it sounded vaguely Eastern European, yet somehow Aimee didn't think this woman was a foreigner. Just something about her smooth and effortless she spoke didn't sound right for someone who English was a second or more language for.
"Yes, please come in Professor." Aimee said deciding where the Professor came from wasn't really important. Aimee stepped back to allow the woman in and Professor Eason entered looking around the house curiously. As Aimee shut the door she noted a strange ring on the woman's hand. It was a stone she didn't recognize gleaming with red's, oranges, and pinks Aimee had never seen. It seemed to glimmer even brighter at Aimee's glance.
"I suppose you have questions Miss Freeman." Professor Eason said mildly her smile still in place. Aimee nodded and straightened fighting the urge not to fuss over her clothes under those soft grey eyes. Something about this woman made her simultaneously wary and at ease. The conflicting emotions wasn't helping her keep her head and she felt ridiculous at seeming so nervous.
"We can talk in the living room professor." Aimee told her taking the lead and showing the woman the way. Professor Eason followed easily and as they settled she eyed the tea and snacks with clear approval and mild amusement.
"Would you like some tea?" Aimee questioned pouring herself a class and feeling a bit more at ease with the familiar task and the smell of her grandmother's favorite past time.
"Yes, Miss Freeman and thank you." Aimee quickly complied and was soon sipping her tea butterflies settling. Professor Eason didn't stopped smiling even as she drank delicately from her cup and looked Aimee over carefully. After a few moments of staring at each other in silence Professor Eason set down her cup and cleared her throat softly.
"I suppose I should formally introduce myself. I am Professor Salem Eason one of the history teachers at Salem." For a moment aimee was a little surprised at such a normal occupation at a magic school. But she supposed it would be expected. All people had their history, magical people wouldn't likely be an exception.
"More specifically I teach American Magical History, my colleague Professor Estes is the History of Magic teacher. Her class covers it on a global scale, while my class, as the name suggests, focuses solely on the Kingdom of America."
Aimee almost choked on her tea. Coughing slightly she set down her own cup and stared at Professor Eason a little choked. The woman looked expectant and unsurprised by the reaction.
"Kingdom of America?" Aimee asked weakly. Professor Eason nodded looking as if she'd expected this and when she spoke it sounded rehearsed.
"Yes, the countries you know as America and Canada to the Magical Community are the United Kingdom of America and Canada. We're a constitutional democracy of sorts. We have a King or Queen chosen from the Seven Royal Families and there is still nobility around. It is forbidden to chose an heir from the King or Queen's own family, so they are forced to choose from the others and this helps prevent one family from staying in power for long periods which would cause tension among the other royals. However the King or Queen has no real power and the government is actually a democratic one called the confederation with an elected President." Professor Eason paused and gave Aimee a sympathetic look, which was the only thing of her speech that didn't look like it was prepared before hand. "The current monarch is Her Serene Majesty, Queen Aeronwenn of the Cladecote Family. Our current president is Taylor Trade."
"Canada is part of America? How?" Aimee questioned and Professor Eason's smile grew into a grin.
"That is something you learn in my class, but yes it is." Professor Eason paused her smile actually fading for a moment as she looked Aimee over critically, but with an oddly impressed look. "You are taking this rather easier than most Miss Freeman. You haven't asked for proof or told me that I was insane."
"What proof would you give me if I asked for it?" Aimee asked, now truly curious. Professor Eason calmly pulled out a long stick from the inside of her suit and with a small wave turned her tea cup into a hamster and back again. Something in Aimee, a knot of long held anxiety, relaxed at that and she smiled for the first time since Professor Eason had arrived. She couldn't prevent the sigh of relief or how she relaxed in her chair feeling a little limp.
"You still aren't reacting as our students normally do." Professor Eason noted mildly, curiosity blooming on her pretty smiling again face.
"You aren't exactly what I expected either." Aimee countered straightening feeling a little lighter even as a grim certainty started to creep in. Even if this did confirm she wasn't crazy, which was something that she'd been worrying about somewhere deep inside herself for years that didn't mean she would change her mind now. "You haven't asked where my mother is."
Professor Eason looked a little surprised and eyed Aimee with a bit of respect. "Sometimes our students are uncomfortable with revealing the truth to their families at first. They were unaware of what was truly behind the odd things that we know as accidental magic, which is perfectly normal for magical children. For Muggleborn students, like yourself, there isn't an explanation and they can be scared. That's why we send someone to personally explain it and there are some cases of course when the parents do not approve of having a witch or wizard in their family. The staff member can help control the situation and, if necessary, erase the parents' memories and make arrangements for the child's safety. Some of our students attend Salem without their parents realizing they are being educated in magic. That is why our cover school is a necessity."
"That makes since." Aimee agreed mildly her mind reeling at the information. Erase memories? Accidental magic? "I always knew I was a bit different. So the things I've done was accidental magic?"
"Most likely, yes. Could you tell me some of what it is exactly?"
Aimee paused for a moment and used the excuse of pouring herself another cup, she hadn't even noticed she'd finished until she couldn't taste anymore, while she considered what to say. Gripping the fresh cup tightly in her hands aimee answered slowly, considering each word as she spoke. "I've moved things that were to high for me to reach without touching them. Once when I was angry half the town's power went off without any explanation. Once my sister fell out of a tree and snapped her leg. I saw it before anyone else and it was horrible the bone was bent completely wrong and all I wanted was to help her. I told her not to look and I—"
Aimee paused feeling suddenly wary of telling someone something she'd been keeping secret for years. Professor Eason looked expectant and Aimee couldn't hold back. This woman had turned a tea cup into a hamster. She at least knew Aimee really could do these things and that she wasn't strange and abnormal for being able to.
"I thought that since I'd been able to do unexplainable things before maybe I could do it this time. Laila wouldn't look at it and was crying and screaming, so she wouldn't see. I touched the leg and just concentrated. At first nothing happened but then the leg started to fix itself. By the time Laila looked up the bones were set and the leg was just a big bruise. The doctor said it was just a bad sprain and bad bruising. Laila thought she'd just imagined how bad it was because she was scared, but I'd seen it. I saw how bad it was. I snakes in the garden said I was a natural Healer—"
"Snakes?" Professor Eason interrupted tensing up, but almost instantly relaxing trying to hide the reaction. Aimee suddenly felt uneasy and wondered if perhaps she wasn't normal even for a witch.
"Yes. I can talk to snakes. They called me a Speaker and Healer. Is that odd?" Aimee watched the woman carefully and noted her smile was a little tight and that she was worrying her ring as she considered. The stone looked almost like the sun with the way its colors were changing and glowing.
"It's rare, but not totally unheard." Professor Eason assured calmly. Aimee didn't buy it for a second.
"If it's so normal why are you so tense?" Aimee demanded sharply. Professor Eason blinked looking a bit startled that Aimee caught, but spoke.
"It won't be much of a problem at Salem, one of our teachers is a Parselmouth, which is the correct term for one who can speak to snakes. In certain places of the world though there is certain prejudice applied to it. Especially in Eastern Europe, the United Kingdom particularly." Professor Eason explained in a very a matter of fact manner. "Several of the more famous, or rather infamous, Parselmouths had a reputation for Dark Magic. Salazar Slytherin and his descendent, a man named Tom Riddle who titled himself Lord Voldemort, made Parselmouths particularly infamous. Slytherin was a founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school itself is considered one of the best in Europe if a bit unorthodox. Slytherin was well known as a Muggle and Muggleborn hater and his descendents down to Voldemort kept up that prejudice. Because of him and several others Parselmouths became considered Dark, even if the magic itself is used mainly for healing and protection. Voldemort started two separate Wizarding Wars in the United Kingdom on the basis of getting rid of Muggles and Muggleborns along with any blood traitors, a term applied to Purebloods and half-bloods who have friendlier views, until his final defeat in 1998 by a famous British wizard named Harry Potter. Because of this and many Parselmouths, though the gift itself is rare, fled to the New world. We have a much more accepting attitude to their gift here. But in the United Kingdom, even now there is the prejudice. I don't doubt that British Parselmouths, if any remain, keep their gift a secret. You Miss Freeman will not have to though. And if you wish can receive special training in your gift at Salem."
"That's not needed." Aimee told her making the woman stare. Aimee elaborated knowing that the time had come. "I won't need extra training, because I won't be attending Salem."
Professor Eason didn't say anything for a few moments her grey eyes simply starring into Aimee clearly taken aback. Aimee waited, she'd expected as much.
"But why?" the woman finally managed.
"I'm needed here." Aimee said and hesitated steeling herself. Here came the hard part. She had to tell the truth about her family if she wanted this to end. She had to make this woman see, and perhaps the small part of Aimee that had protested against her decision to not go all along.
"When my father left my mother fell apart. I know Isolde does care for us somewhere, but I also know that no matter how horrible it may sound she loved my father more than anyone else in the world. I've accepted this and I don't hate her for it, but it meant when he left it destroyed her. She couldn't work, which meant we had no money, which meant no food. My sister called our grandmother, Grams, and she moved in. She took care of things until she died when I was seven." Aimee swallowed and looked down at the tea finding it easier to tell if she looked at it instead of Professor Eason's shocked face. She'd practiced this she could do it. She had to. "I took over. Isolde was a bit better and she could start working again, but I made sure the money went towards the bills and food. I cleaned the house and took care of Isolde and Laila the best I could. Laila's a bit wild and I'm the only one she'll listen to. I take care of arranging doctor's appointments and making sure Isolde knows to call ahead and say she won't make them so that we can go alone. I make sure we have something to eat ever night for dinner. I settle the fights Isolde and Laila have. I can't leave. It's my responsibility to take care of my family, because I'm the only one that can."
Aimee was met with silence. Reluctantly she looked up to find Professor Eason looking at her with awe and an intense emotion she couldn't quite recognize. Professor Eason opened her mouth to say something, but before she could they were interrupted.
"Is that how you really feel?" a shocked, horrified voice said from the living room entrance. Aimee stiffened horror coursing through. She knew that voice. Sure enough it was her mother, home three hours early from work and looking sickly pale her bright blue eyes that Laila had inherited bright and brimming with so many emotions Aimee couldn't categorize them all.
"My god. What have I done." Isolde Freeman breathed out looking stricken. Time seemed to slow down for Aimee as she watched Isolde walk towards her and gently place a small hand on Aimee's shoulder. Aimee wasn't sure rather she should feel relieved or horrified that someone knew her secret. All she could feel was an incredible numbness and perhaps a little fear. It didn't matter Isolde looked horrified enough for them both. Was it so horrible that I'm a witch? A small hurt voice in the back of Aimee's mind questioned and aimee felt her mouth go dry and her throat close.
"I'd like to talk to my daughter for a few moments in private, would you please wait here Miss?" Isolde began shakily, straightening and looking determined. She looked just like Laila and Aimee was struck by how much her sister took after their mother in looks. Except for the lines grief had etched on her face and the accompanying grey streaking her dark hair they were exactly the same look wise.
"My name is Eason, ma'am. I don't mind at all." the woman said politely adverting her gaze, but not before throwing Aimee an odd searching look. Isolde nodded her acknowledgment and dumbly Aimee stood and followed her mother to the kitchen. Isolde quietly closed the door behind them and turned to face Aimee. She looked pained.
"Oh Aimee, calm down sweetheart. You look like you're going to cry. I'm not upset with you, but myself." Isolde assured her.
Aimee starred. She did? She finally noticed the burning in her eyes. She'd been too distracted by the shaky terror inside her which was starting to break through the numbness to notice. Aimee tried to calm down, but judging by Isolde's expression she didn't succeed.
"H-How much did you hear?" Aimee squeaked out shakily, her voice sounding so weak and high pitched she scared herself. She quickly laced her shaking fingers together and looked down at them trying to focus on anything but the woman in front of her.
"Only you telling this Eason woman your feelings." Isolde told her and suddenly choked back a sob looking ready to cry herself. "I'm so sorry Aimee, I never knew you felt that way."
Aimee stared not sure exactly what to do. She'd thought Isolde had been distressed over finding out her daughter was a witch. If she hadn't heard then what had upset her.
"I don't understand." I'm blurted out too confused to guard her words. Isolde shook her head starting to cry silently.
"Of course not, you're too selfless just like your father. He never did see anything wrong with giving his all for everyone else either. I swear Aimee thing will change." Isolde said looking fierce and stubborn. She grabbed Aimee's shoulders and bent down to look her directly in the eye. "I'm turning over a new leaf. It's time for me to be the mother not you. I'm so sorry it took me so long to realize that. Can you ever forgive me?"
"I-I-" Was all Aimee could manage. She felt like a dear caught in the gaze of car's headlights right before it was ran over. Her mother was looking at her though, so desperate and apologetic. Aimee swallowed hard. The wrong answer could destroy her she had to say something. "Yes."
Isolde's whole face lit up and she pulled Aimee into a tight hug. Aimee returned it falling back into her numb state now that the fear of rejection was gone. This was too sudden, too strange from what her life had been to process. Finally though Isolde released her.
"Now who is this Eason and why is she here?" Isolde asked seriously, looking lighter, but with a new found purpose about her giving her a liveliness Aimee couldn't remember seeing.
"She's a Professor of History at a school that offered me a scholarship. She came to discuss it with me" Aimee answered automatically. Isolde frowned.
"Why wasn't I informed?"
"I don't plan on going and the meeting was scheduled for while you were at work. I was handling it." Aimee explained softly and Isolde looked at her suspiciously at 'while you were at work' part, but softened.
"Do you want to go?" Isolde questioned looking her right in the eyes again.
Aimee froze. Yes. Part of her screamed determinedly. She didn't know what to say. Aimee didn't like lying on principle and hadn't unless you counted omission of what she'd long considered her strangeness. Since she'd gotten her letter though she seemed to be doing a lot of it and it had been hard, incredibly hard to do it. The thought of lying again, when some part of her, perhaps bigger than she'd really wanted to admit, wanted nothing more than to learn more about this new world and go. Before Aimee could find her words though Isolde made her own decision taking Aimee's silence as answer.
"Wait here." she ordered and left looking grim and maybe a little ashamed.
Everything is falling apart, Aimee realized stunned. I don't know why Isolde came home, but she isn't going to let me say no. I'm going to have to go to Salem aren't I?
Aimee fell into a kitchen chair feeling a horrible lack of control and despair. She already knew what would happen, it wasn't just a gut feeling either. Aimee knew. Like she'd known Grams was going to die. And whenever Aimee knew something, it happened rather she liked it or not. When Isolde walked in ten minutes later with a brochure for the Massachusetts School for the Gifted Aimee was only surprised by one thing. Professor Eason hadn't told her about the magic. She'd let Aimee keep that secret. But, why?