Hogwarts, Great Hall, September 20, 2017, 8:00 AM
The third week at Hogwarts had established a routine.
Wake up at dawn. Practice (practise) Intent. Classes. Library. Train with Stella and Albus in the Chamber during the afternoons when the Common Room was empty.
Solus had started teaching them the basics.
Not complex magic. Not magic from the Founders' era yet.
Just sensing.
"Close your eyes," he had told them the previous Tuesday. "Breathe. Extend your awareness. Don't think about spells. Think about magic as something alive. Like a river flowing around you."
Stella had grasped the concept faster. Her curious and intuitive nature made her receptive.
"I can feel something," she had said with awe. "It's like... tickles. But in my mind."
Albus had struggled more. His tendency to overthink got in the way.
"It's not working," he had said, frustrated.
"Because you're trying too hard," Solus had replied. "Stop forcing it. Let it come to you."
Slow progress.
But progress.
Now, sitting at the Slytherin table during Friday breakfast, Solus watched the ceiling open for the post owls.
He had sent his second letter to Helen four days ago.
He should receive a reply today.
The owls descended in a mass.
Letters. Packages. Copies of the Daily Prophet.
A brown owl, the same one from the postal service, landed in front of Solus.
It dropped a cream-colored (coloured) envelope.
Solus recognized it immediately.
His mother's handwriting.
But...
Something was wrong.
The handwriting was less careful. More rushed. Some words were slightly crooked, as if she had written in a hurry.
Or with a shaking hand.
Solus opened the envelope slowly.
[Dear Solus,
Sorry I took so long to reply. I've been busy lately. Lots of things to do around the house. The garden needs constant attention. The roses are growing too fast. Sometimes I think they should grow slower. But they don't. They keep growing.
Your father called last week. Or maybe it was two weeks ago. Time feels strange lately. He said his project is fine. I think. I don't remember exactly what he said. But he was happy. That's good.
How are your classes? I hope you're learning a lot. You were always so smart. Since you were little. Sometimes I wonder if you're too smart. If you think too much. But I suppose that's good for a wizard, right?
The house is still empty without you. Sometimes I forget you left. I make tea for two and then remember you're in Scotland. It's silly, right? Forgetting something like that.
The neighbors (neighbours), the Millers, moved out. Or maybe they're just on vacation (holiday). I haven't seen their car in days. Or weeks. I'm not sure.
I miss you, honey.
Write soon.
Love,Mom (Mum)
P.S. Did I send you cookies (biscuits) last time? I don't remember. If I didn't, I'm sorry. If I did, hope they were good]
Solus read the letter three times.
His stomach tightened more with each reading.
'This isn't normal.'
Helen had never been forgetful.
She had never been... confused.
The words were erratic. Jumping from topic to topic with no clear connection. And that line:
"Sometimes I forget you left."
Solus felt something cold settle in his chest.
'What is happening to her?'
"Solus?" Albus's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Are you okay?"
Solus folded the letter quickly.
"Yeah. Just... news from home."
"Bad news?" Stella asked, looking at him with concern.
"I don't know."
And that was the truth.
He didn't know if this was something temporary—stress, loneliness—or something more serious.
'I need to talk to someone.'
'But to whom?'
'McGonagall? No. She would contact Muggle Social Services if she suspects something is wrong.'
'Annan? Maybe. But I don't know him well enough.'
'Marco? No. This is too personal.'
Solus put the letter in his pocket.
'For now, I observe. And I wait.'
'And I pray to gods I don't believe in that this is just temporary.'
. . . . . . .
Charms Class, 10:00 AM
Charms class was with a professor Solus hadn't met yet.
Professor Zhao.
He was a middle-aged Chinese man, with perfectly combed black hair and blue robes with gold details. He spoke with a soft accent but his English was impeccable.
"Good morning," he said with a warm smile. "I am Professor Zhao. Charms is the branch of magic that manipulates objects to do what they would not do naturally."
He walked between the tables.
"A chair does not fly. But with the Levitation Charm, it can. A door does not lock itself. But with Colloportus, it does."
He paused.
"Today you will learn the Levitation Charm. Wingardium Leviosa. It is simple. But it requires precision."
He placed a feather on each table.
"The movement is: swish and flick. The charm requires correct intonation. Win-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa. Not Levio-SA."
Several students laughed.
"It is not a joke," Zhao said seriously. "Incorrect pronunciation can result in objects exploding. Or in students flying instead of feathers."
The room went silent.
"Now. Practice (Practise)."
Solus looked at the feather in front of him.
Wingardium Leviosa.
A basic charm.
Given his few memories, he had taught it to hundreds of students.
Simple levitation.
But like every charm, it required Intent. Not just words.
'I want the feather to float. Not fly. Not fall. Float.'
Solus raised his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The feather rose smoothly. One meter. Two meters. Floating perfectly stable.
Professor Zhao passed by his table.
He stopped.
"Excellent, Mr. Gray. Ten points to Slytherin."
He looked at Albus, who was struggling. His feather barely moved.
"Mr. Potter. The intonation. Levi-O-sa. Not Levio-SA."
Albus tried again.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The feather trembled. It rose a few inches. Then fell.
"Better. Keep practicing."
Beside him, Stella had managed to make her feather float.
"I did it!" she whispered excitedly.
"Well done," Solus said.
"How did you do it so fast?"
"Visualization. Don't think about the words. Think about what you want to happen."
Stella nodded slowly.
"Intent."
"Exactly."
But while Solus said that, his mind was elsewhere.
In Surrey.
In an empty house.
On a woman who forgot her son had left.
'What is happening to you, Mom?'
. . . . . . .
Lunch, 12:30 PM
Solus didn't eat much.
His appetite had vanished.
Stella and Albus noticed but said nothing. They just sat close, giving him space but letting him know they were there.
'Good friends. I don't deserve them. But I need them.'
Halfway through lunch, a black owl entered the Great Hall.
Not from the postal service.
It was private. Elegant.
It flew directly toward the Slytherin table.
And landed in front of Hadrian Rosier.
Rosier took the letter, read quickly, and then looked toward Solus.
Their eyes met across the hall.
Rosier nodded slightly.
And then he got up and left the Great Hall.
"What was that?" Albus asked.
"I don't know," Solus replied.
. . . . . . .
Library, 3:00 PM
Solus spent the afternoon in the library, trying to distract himself.
He had taken out a book on Healing Magic. Not because he needed it for class, but because...
'If something happens to Helen, I need to know how to help.'
'Or at least how to understand it.'
The book spoke about magical diseases. Curses. Poisons. But also about Muggle afflictions that magic could cure.
And about the ones it couldn't.
"Magic can heal the body. But the mind is more complex. Depression, anxiety, mental illnesses... magic can alleviate symptoms. But it cannot erase causes."
Solus closed the book abruptly.
'No.'
'It's not depression.'
'It's something else.'
'It has to be.'
'Helen had never been...'
But then he remembered something.
Something he had forgotten.
. . . . . . .
Flashback: August 2015 (When Solus was 9 years old)
It was two weeks after Solus had recovered his memories.
He was in the garden, trying to process two thousand years of life in a nine-year-old mind.
Helen had come out of the house with tea.
"Solus? You okay, honey?"
Solus had looked up.
And he had seen something in her eyes.
Something he hadn't noticed before.
Sadness.
Deep. Hidden. But there.
"Mom, are you okay?" he had asked.
Helen had smiled.
"Of course, honey. Why do you ask?"
"You look... sad."
Helen had gone still.
Then she had sat next to him on the grass.
"Sometimes people have hard days, Solus. Days where the world feels heavier. But that's normal. It doesn't mean something is wrong."
"But are you okay?"
Helen had hugged him.
"I'm fine, honey. As long as I have you, I'll always be fine."
. . . . . . .
Present
Solus opened his eyes.
As long as I have you.
'And now she doesn't have me.'
'I'm hundreds of miles away.'
'And she is alone.'
The weight in his chest became crushing.
'Did I leave her alone when she needed me most? Is it my fault?'
He stood up abruptly.
He needed to move.
He needed to do something.
He left the library.
. . . . . . .
Hogwarts Corridors, 3:30 PM
Solus walked aimlessly.
Through the third floor. Through the fourth. He climbed toward the Astronomy Tower.
He stood at the edge, looking at the grounds.
The Forbidden Forest stretched dark and dense. The lake shone under the afternoon sun. Students were playing Quidditch in the distance.
'Everything is so normal here.'
'So... intact.'
'And there, in Surrey, my mother is falling apart.'
"You shouldn't be up here alone, Gray."
Solus turned.
Professor Annan was standing on the stairs, in green robes and an expression that was half concern, half curiosity.
"Professor."
"This tower is technically closed outside of Astronomy classes." Annan climbed the last few steps. "But I suppose you needed to think."
Solus didn't answer.
Annan stood next to him, looking at the grounds.
"Bad news from home?"
"How...?"
"I saw you at breakfast. The way you read that letter. The way you didn't eat afterward." Annan looked at him. "I'm Head of House, Gray. It's my job to notice when my students are struggling."
Solus hesitated.
'Can I trust him? Can I tell him?'
Finally:
"My mother isn't well."
"Not well how?"
"I don't know. But her letters are... different. Confused. Like she's forgetting things."
Annan frowned.
"Your mother is a Muggle?"
"Yes."
"And your father?"
"Also. But he's in the States for work. He won't be home for weeks."
"So your mother is alone."
"Yes."
Silence.
Annan sighed.
"Gray, what I'm going to tell you is as a professor. Not as Head of House." He looked at Solus directly. "If you think your mother is in danger, you need to tell me. I can contact the Muggle Liaison Office. They can check that she's okay."
"I don't want to do that."
"Why?"
"Because..." Solus searched for the words. "Because if she's fine, I'll just scare her. And if she's not fine, Muggles won't be able to help her. Nor wizards either."
Annan studied him for a long moment.
"What do you think is wrong with her?"
"I don't know. Maybe she just misses me. Maybe it's temporary."
"Or?"
"Or something is wrong. Something serious."
Annan nodded slowly.
"Listen, Gray. I can't make decisions for you. But I can offer you this: if you need to talk to your mother, you can use the Floo Network from my office. It's private. And you can verify she's okay without involving officials."
Solus looked at him.
'He's offering help.'
'Without judging. Without reporting.'
"Thank you, Professor."
"Don't mention it." Annan began to walk down the stairs. "And Gray. If you need time off from classes to deal with this, tell me. Family comes first."
He stopped.
"Even for Slytherin."
And he went down the stairs.
Solus remained alone on the tower.
The sun was beginning to set.
'Floo Network.'
'I can call her.'
'I can verify she's okay.'
'But...'
'What if she's not?'
'What if I see something I can't fix from here?'
The idea terrified him.
But the alternative, not knowing, was worse.
'Tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow I'll go to Annan's office.'
'And I'll call home.'
That night, Solus couldn't sleep.
He stayed awake, staring at the dormitory ceiling.
Albus was snoring softly.
The other boys were asleep.
But Solus...
Solus remembered.
He remembered Helen when he was five years old. Teaching him to read.
He remembered Helen when he was seven years old. Healing his scraped knee with a kiss and a bandage.
He remembered Helen on Platform 9¾. Crying but smiling.
"I love you, Solus. More than anything in this world."
And now...
Now she was alone.
Confused.
Forgetting.
'I can't lose her.'
'Not again.'
'I already lost too much in two previous lives.'
'I can't lose my mother in this one.'
He closed his eyes.
And finally, near dawn, sleep came.
But it brought nightmares.
Helen vanishing like smoke.
Helen calling him.
And him unable to answer.
[N/A: I'm currently working ahead on the Patreon chapters. For now, I'm staying three chapters ahead, but I'm planning to expand that to ten so the workflow feels smoother. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'll be posting chapters on Patreon more regularly now that I'm officially on vacation. That means I finally have more time to write than I did while I was in classes. patreon.com/Nemryz]