Disclaimer: Harry is not mine.
Hogwarts, A History – The Missing Chapter
Age may have crept up upon me. But my memory of my modern day apprentice lingers. He was strong lad as my memoirs tell so faithfully. In any other circumstances I would have been certain he would have grown into a fine gentleman.
True to my word I kept the boy's souvenir, its home is in a pocket right above my heart, so that I may not forget. Somedays I feel it burn slightly as if Harry is telling me he is okay. It's a fanciful thought… but comforting all the same.
I remember so clearly the day I said goodbye. The day I released him to an uncertain future, littered with yet more danger. For a while I felt I should have attempted to stop him from going. But in retrospect the future no matter how uncertain is where he belongs.
That day was the last time I saw Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I felt for France the following week. I could not return to the castle, not after seeing so much befall my dream. I left Slytherin house under the keeping of my son, Earven and went in search for another dream.
For many years I thought I had lost hope that there would be another calling for me in this life. Only to find once more, a new beginning…
I returned to Wales and there I taught the apprentices no one wanted… The first of which I remember clearly… Helena, the bastard daughter of my good friend Helga.
Helena was a difficult girl to begin with. All the love and devotion of her mother could not sooth the hurt that her father had left her mother. She was surly little creature and powerful in her anger (thankfully not as powerful as dear Harry!). It was the work of many months that Helga's daughter began to change. And only then could I start to teach.
went to continue her mother's dream and returned to Hogwarts. I
believe she is the mother of five handsome boys! Which had brought
much gladness to dear Helga's heart.
My dear friend Godric Gryffindor was the first of the Hogwarts four to die. Only last month, did dear Godric take his breath. He taught all his life… giving youngster the benefit of all his knowledge and experience. Like Rhoddy I do not mourn his passing… I am thankful to have known him at all. Gwerys his daughter took up his post at the school, like her father she is a talented teacher.
Rhodderyk Gryffindor, hero of Wales, has rid our small island home of those dreadful beasts that claimed the life of Saxtyn and Newlin. No longer do magical folk have to fear them. They have past out of his world like a bad dream. He has gone abroad to likewise rid Europe of their presence...
I am old… and I begin to loose interest in this life. Many things I have accomplished and many things I have done I have lived to regret. History I am aware will hate me… but my heart is comforted to know, that somewhere out there will be a boy who will live through the worst kind of curse known to our kind and he does not hate me.
My story will be lost in the dregs of history. Of who I truly am will be discounted and my name will be used loftily to back the workings of black wizards… In a way I have had my revenge. This I know. I have helped build a wizard that will be able to fight back and young wizard who has knowledge his enemies know not. And I have accomplished that.
I am old… I know the time for me to lay down my head never to rise is coming upon me quickly. I feel it in my bones – in every spell I cast. And yet I am not afraid.
I have written this journal but none shall ever know of its existence. For I will take my secrets with me to the grave, for Harry's sake. This diary will be buried with me…inside its pages shall be the little gold coin. Forever close to my heart, so even in death I will remember.
I pray that my training had given him something. Mostly I pray he has found hope in what I had taught him. A hope in which he can fight the heir which is an insult to my immortal memory and rise again to find the sun ever brighter.
There has been a per written sequel to this. It'll be up soon. Sorry about the delay in updating I've had an emotionally draining week.