I ran out of the house into the back yard, eagerly imagining how I was going to soar through the air and conquer gravity. I swung my leg over the broomstick and shot an impatient look towards the house.
A few moments later, my uncle swaggered into the backyard with a broomstick slung over his shoulder. My father followed closely behind.
Uncle John said, "Not so fast. If we're gonna do this, we do this the proper way."
I raised my left eyebrow in response and questioned, "Is there a wrong way to get onto a broom?"
He laughed and said, "Put it on the ground, stand next to it and command it to your hand."
I vaguely remember this tradition from the books, but I always thought it was rather stupid. Why would you set a broom on the ground only to tell it to right back to your hand in the first place?
I shot Uncle John an unimpressed look and replied, "that doesn't seem necessary; I already have the broom in my hand."
Father interjected, "There is a good reason for this, broomsticks have many different charms and spell layered into them. One of the simplest is rising to the owner's hand when called."
His face brightened as he continued in what I called dad's lecture mode, "As a broomstick gets older, there is a chance that some of the charms and spells wear off. A good rule of thumb is calling the broomstick to your hand. If it works, then the broom is most likely fine. There have been plenty of wizards who hopped on an old broomstick and climbed into the sky only to fall when the charm stops working. That's why you should always use the command before getting on a broom."
I gulped and thought to myself. What the hell? You mean that one of these might just fall out of the sky? If I'm going to take off into the sky, I want a little bit more of a guarantee than most likely.
I set the broomstick on the ground and said, "But this is a new broom, so it should be fine. Right?"
Uncle John chuckled mischievously, and claimed, "Not being 100 percent sure it's gonna work is half of the fun of flying."
"It'll be fine," my father soothed, "Now reach out with your hand and tell it to come up."
A picture formed in my mind, I imagined the broom rising on my first command, just like Harry did, then I would soar through the air like a bird, the skies would be mine to command.
I reached out and said, "Up." The broomstick did a convincing job of playing dead.
After carefully nudging the broom with my foot, I looked at my dad and said, "You were right, we should always test a new broom before trying to find out if it's defective, this broom is obviously broken."
Uncle John started laughing at me. "What," I defended, "It's clearly broken."
Dad walked over and put his hand on my shoulder to comfort me, "It can take a while to get the hang of this, let's try again.
I decided to give it another try and said, "Up?"
"You're asking the broom when what you need to be doing is telling the broom what to do," my father explained.
"Maybe he just doesn't have what it takes to be a wizard," Uncle John mocked.
Closing my eyes, I reached out and commanded, "UP!"
Instantly, the broom rose up and smacked my hand, with a grin on my face, I shot a victorious look at my uncle.
Dad smiled at my expression and said, "Now hop on the broom, but don't kick off the ground yet."
I carefully followed my dad's instructions, determined not to have the same type of flying experience as Neville did.
"Good," dad praised. Coming up next to me with his broom, he continued, "Now what I want you to do is gently kick off with your feet.
The broom rose into the air after I made a small motion with my feet, I shot him a nervous look as I hovered a few feet off the ground.
Dad shot me an encouraging look and said, "Very good; now I want you just to get used to being off the ground."
After a few minutes, I questioned, "I thought that this would be more uncomfortable, I can't really feel the broomstick; it feels like I'm sitting on a cushion of air."
Uncle John replied, "That would be the cushioning charm coming into effect, many wizards use brooms to travel long distances. Putting all of your weight onto a stick for a few hours would be extremely uncomfortable."
My mother poked her head out the window and shouted, "Henry, I need you inside for a moment."
Before heading inside, my dad turned and said, "Don't do anything until I get back."
I thought to myself gleefully, watch out world, now that I conquered gravity, there is no stopping me now. In response to my lofty thoughts, the universe decided that I was getting a big head, so it decided to play with me for a bit, and I began slowly rising into the air. I yelled towards my uncle, "WHY AM I GOING UP?"
I made a hopping motion trying to force it back down to the ground, but was unsuccessful in doing so, if anything that made it worse.
Uncle John sarcastically answered, "You're going upward because brooms are designed to fly in an upward fashion."
Keeping a death grip on the broom, I retorted, "That isn't very helpful."
"Who said I was trying to be helpful?" Uncle John replied with a Cheshire cat smile.
After I got the broom to stop rising around 20 feet off the ground, I shouted, "How am I supposed to get down from here."
"You know how birds push their babies off trees to teach them to fly?" "FLY BABY FLY!" Uncle John mockingly yelled while flapping his arms.
It had never occurred to me before this moment, that my uncle was crazy, hell maybe my whole family is crazy. I mean, who thought that giving me a broomstick when I was five and leaving me to the tender mercy of a crazy uncle was good parenting.
I decided to pull out the big guns, "I'll tell my mom," I threatened. For some reason, my threat only made him laugh harder. Unknown to me, inside the attic, the rest of my family watched me flail about in the air.
"I feel like we should have told him that the bluebottle broom has an anti-falling charm put on it," Camille whispered to her husband while watching from the attic window.
"He'll be fine, once he gets over his initial fear, and starts controlling the broom" Henry comforted, "Besides, this is how our dad taught us how to fly, and everything worked out just fine."
Camille tore her eyes off of her son floating in the sky and challenged, "Then why aren't you out there doing it."
Henry smirked and replied, "Because while I'm sure Alex will one day look back at this fondly, he has an incredible memory, and he sure knows how to hold a grudge."
In the sky, after a few minutes of panic, the initial fear began to leave me, and I began to appreciate the view. Well, this isn't so bad, I thought to myself.
Seeing that I had somewhat calmed down, Uncle John shot up next to me and said, "That wasn't so bad, right?"
On the inside, I swore that one day I would have my revenge, and replied with clenched teeth, "Yeah, it's not so bad."
"Alright, alright, I'll show you how to control it. Broomsticks are controlled in two different ways. First, is direction, you use your hands and push the end of the handle where you want to go. To go up, pull back, to go down, push down, and to go left or right pull in the direction you want to go." Uncle John explained.
"What if I just want to stay level?" I quickly said.
He replied, "That's the easy part; just let go, you're not gonna fall off if you do. The cushioning charm supports your entire lower body, so balance isn't an issue."
I had to send multiple commands to my fingers before they would loosen; it was like they didn't believe my uncle's words.
After I removed the pressure on the broom it immediately stabilized. "Like this?" I clarified.
He continued, "Good, now speed is even easier to control. If you want to go faster lean forward, the lower you lean, the faster you go, and to slow down, all you have to do is sit back up. Now, let's take it slow and do a few laps."
I learned a valuable lesson while flying. If you fly around with your mouth open, be prepared to swallow a bunch of bugs.
After the flying lesson, I stopped and hovered around 100 feet off of the ground and admired the bird's eye view of the house grounds. The red three-story brick estate was an impressive sight. In the back was a large glass greenhouse that I knew better to enter, inside were many of the plants that mom used in her potion-making. Some were relatively harmless, others were aggressive and could do a lot of damage if given a chance.
In the front was a rarely used dirt road that leads to a paved road. A large iron gate prevented anyone from entering our property uninvited. On both sides of the gate was a large stone wall that stretched off in the distance.
"Enjoying the view?" John called out to me.
I nodded and pointed to the sea of trees and asked, "How big is the Fawley property?"
"Around a thousand acres or so, your grandmother's house is on the other side of the forest. This land has been our family's land for over a thousand years."
He continued, "One of our ancestors was paranoid about a raid from the newly established ministry of magic, and so he made the whole property unplottable and set all sorts of concealment spells on the walls. Supposedly he built himself a vanishing tower where he could bunker down out there somewhere. When your dad and I were younger, we spent many hours looking for it, but we couldn't find it; maybe you will have better luck."
I swore to myself that one-day, that magic tower would be mine. I could already picture myself in the tower doing powerful magic and cackling madly.
"All right, that's enough for today; you still have a party to look forward to." Uncle John informed me.
After heading inside, mother told me, "Go upstairs and get ready for your party, I invited many of our friends over and they will be bringing kids your age to play."
"But I don't want to hang out with other kids, they're so annoying," I responded.
Mom and Dad looked at each other with concern in their eyes and had a nonverbal conversation. "It will be good for you, it's time you met kids your age who aren't family. We are concerned that you don't have any friends your age to play with, this will be a good chance to meet some of the fellow wizards and witches that you may end up at Hogwarts with." Dad replied.
"Fine," I gave in, not wanting my parents to continue to worry about my lack of interest in hanging out with children my age.
As the day wore on, more wizards and witches arrived at our house. Some arrived on brooms, but most came through the floo network. Among their number were my three aunts from my mom's side of the family. As they arrived within the fireplace, I noticed that they brought with them their gaggle of kids consisting entirely of girls, nine of them to be exact. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor I left the room in a hasty retreat, determined not to get volunteered to entertain my cousins.
I retreated to my father's study, where he and my uncle were debating with some old friends of theirs from Hogwarts. The subject was whether the Appleby Arrows or the Winbourn Wasps were the better quidditch team.
"I'm telling you the Arrows have got this next match in the bag. They have three good chasers, and their keeper is one of the best there is; the Wasps have no chance at all." Dad argued.
"Rubbish," snorted a brown haired wizard, "The wasps have two world-class beaters who will prevent the Arrows chasers from scoring, and they have the better seeker."
"Come off it, Amos, I wouldn't call their seeker better, at most they are about even," dad retorted.
Uncle John shot a smile my way and interjected, "Alright, let's ask the little guy who's better."
Everyone in the room turned in my direction. Without saying a word, I pointed at my blue shirt with silver arrows that were always moving.
"Of course he sides with the arrows, the poor boy has had them shoved down his throat his whole life," Amos scoffed.
Uncle John winked at me and asked, "What are you doing in here with all these stuffy wizards? Go have some fun with some other kids; I'm sure some are running around here that are your age. Just don't burn the place down."
Amos moved a young boy with dark hair into view and piped up, "Speaking of which, this is my son, Cedric. He is about your age, why don't you boys run along and see what sort of trouble you can find."
I froze once I heard the name, I was not prepared to come face to face with someone from the books. I didn't know how to respond. What do you say to someone who has been marked for death? Eventually, I stammered, "Nice to meet you. I'm Alex."
Cedric gave a hesitant smile and replied, "Cedric."
Not knowing what to say, I awkwardly blurted out, "Want to go see my egg?"
He raised an eyebrow and hesitantly replied, "Sure, why not."
I motioned him to follow as I headed upstairs, carefully avoiding the attention of my French cousins who were running and driving the adults nuts. After making our way through the house and up the stairs to my room I closed my wooden door behind me with a sigh of relief.
I walked over to my bed and grabbed the big black egg and turned to Cedric, and said, "Check this out."
Cedric came over, and I handed the egg to him, he ran his fingers over the strange patterns. He asked curiously, "What is it?"
"It's a Lamussa," I gleefully responded.
"Cool," responded Cedic.
While studying the egg, my door burst open. Cedric and I jumped and nearly dropped the egg. Angered that I almost dropped the egg, I carefully set it back on the bed, and I turned on the intruder and yelled, "Get out."
Breathing heavily by the door was a blond haired girl who said, "Shhh, they may hear you."
Confused, Cedric asked, "Who?"
"Those little french monsters," she retorted, "Now be quiet."
I felt conflicting emotions within me, on the one hand I wanted her gone, on the other, I had the feeling she would not go quietly, which may attract the attention of the monsters. Deciding that one more addition to the room was better than the rest of my cousins finding us, I sighed, "Fine, you can stay, lock the door behind you, and don't touch anything."
"Ooh, what is that?" she said, looking at my bed.
"It's my Lamassu," I proudly said.
"And that is?" She questioned.
Annoyed that she did not respond the way Cedric did and too embarrassed to admit I hadn't the faintest clue what a Lamassu was, I dramatically said, "It's a magical beast of great power."
She smirked and asked sweetly, "What does it look like?"
Glaring balefully at her, I mentally added her to my list of nemesis. "It's kinda hard to describe their species," I said through gritted teeth.
Meeting my eyes, she countered with a knowing grin, "You know, there is nothing wrong with not knowing everything."
Somehow we ended up in a staring contest. Glaring at her strange purple eyes vowing to myself that I would die before I would let this little girl get the best of me.
Interrupting our strange staring contest, Cedric, holding my book, Fantastic Beasts And Where They Come From, said, "This book states that everyone is unique, they take many different forms, cats and bull like creatures are most common. They also have wings, and sometimes they can even develop horns."
After hearing about the strange species, I gave Cedric thumbs up for coming to my rescue. I shot a triumphant look towards the girl, and haughtily said, "I told you it was hard to describe their species, I don't know what it looks like until it hatches, because each one is unique."
She looked at the pair of us suspiciously and huffed, "Fine, I was just saying."
"So, what's your name?" Cedric asked.
"Anna Lancaster, what's yours?" She replied.
Not quite ready to forgive being challenged, I grunted, "Alex."
"Cedric Diggory," Cedric responded with a natural smile.
"Wait, you said Lancaster, you wouldn't happen to be related to Taylor Lancaster, who plays keeper for the Appleby Arrows, would you?" I questioned.
With a proud nod, she replied, "That's my dad."
I mentally erased her from my list of nemesis and casually asked, "Is your dad here today?"
"No, my mom brought me, right now, dad is practicing for his next match."
Mentally disappointed that I wouldn't be meeting my favorite quidditch player, I asked, "Who is your mom?"
Anna's face fell and quietly said, "Barbra is my mom. I think she is friends with your mom."
"Does she have anything to do with potions?" I queried.
Anna carefully nodded
"I thought her name sounded familiar; I heard my mom talking to my dad about her the other day."
Anna narrowed her eyes and sneered at me, "Oh ya, and what did your mom say about my mom?"
Confused by her words, I replied, "Only that her apothecary was one of the best, and that's where she got her rarer ingredients from. Why? What were you expecting?"
Not expecting my response, "Oh," she responded in a small voice, "Yeah, her apothecary has a lot of connections and is able to get ahold of all sorts of ingredients."
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, I changed the subject. "So is there any possibility of getting tickets to see the Appleby Arrows, they are my favorite quidditch team.
"Maybe, I can always ask," Anna replied.
All of a sudden, my mom banged on my door and raged, "What do you think you're doing hiding in your room, I thought we had discussed you getting to know some kids your age."
Shooting an embarrassed look towards Cedric and Anna, I retorted, "I am hanging out with some friends."
Not believing me, she tried to enter my room but wasn't able to get past the locked door. After a moment of silence, the door was thrown open with a bang, she entered with her wand out and hair whipping about madly. Seeing that I did have company, her hair settled and she said righteously, "Well, it's nice that you're up here with friends, but everyone else is wondering where the man of the hour is, so get your butt downstairs or else."
"Fine," I gloomily responded. Turning to Cedric and Anna, "Let's go."
Surprisingly the rest of the party wasn't terrible; having Cedric and Anna by my side made the rest of the party go by in a flash. As people began to leave, a tall woman with blond hair came over and said, "Come on, Anna time to go."
As she and her mother headed toward the fireplace, I called out, "Maybe sometime, Ced and I can come and meet your Dad."
Seeing her mom's nod of approval, she said, "Sure, it'll be fun." Then she shot me a sarcastic look and mockingly said, "Maybe you can bring your magical beast of great power along," and then she disappeared in a green flash of fire.
Annoyed that she got the last word in, I turned to Cedric and sighed "Girls,"
"Girls," He agreed.
Luckily, Cedric and his father were among the last to leave, as they were on their way out. I thanked Amos, "Thanks for getting my Lamassu approved."
Winking at me, Amos replied, "whatever do you mean?" And then he grabbed Cedric and disappeared with a crack.
Later that night, I lay in bed, thinking over the day's event. I had met people from the books, but instead of characters, they were real people. What was I supposed to do? Should I tell them about their future and risk sounding like a crackpot?
Hell, maybe me being here alters the future, perhaps this universe is only similar to the book and not 100 percent accurate. Deciding I would need more information before acting, I put it out of mind.
Opening Fantastic Beasts and Where They Come From, I turned to the sections on Lamassu. Lamassu are protectors and guardians. Upon birth, they will create a lifetime bond with the first creature or person that they see. They are highly territorial and protective of what they consider family. It has been confirmed that they can see through most disguises such as invisibility cloaks and polyjuice potions. They also seemingly can sense when another is directing hostile thoughts towards them; it is unknown how they can do so. The ability to sense danger makes them effective protectors and guardians; it is currently unknown how they can detect threats.
Absorbed with reading the book, I didn't notice the red glow emanating from the patterns on the egg. The egg, seemingly annoyed that I wasn't paying attention to it, rolled into me. The egg settled down after I gave it my full attention.
A long two hours later, and I was barely able to keep my eyes open when I heard the egg begin to crack. My sleepiness vanished into thin air, and it was all I could do to stay still. A small piece of the egg broke off, and a paw emerged. From there, the Lamassu sensed freedom was within its grasp, and it increased its struggle, which broke the egg into many pieces. A small dark bundle rolled out and landed in my hands.
I brought it closer to my face to get a better look. It was catlike with black fur and tiger stripes made of gold, it's wings were covered with dark midnight blue feathers tipped with silver upon them. Small little black nubs adorned its head, and it let out an adorable cry and bit me on the hand.
"Ouch," not expecting to be bitten, I dropped the Lamassu on the bed and felt a wave of energy pass through me along with the knowledge that it was a female. Seemingly upset that I was no longer holding her, she mewled like a kitten.
Realizing that she was most likely hungry, I called out, "Lola."
With a loud crack, our house elf appeared next to the bed and bowed, "Yes, Master Alex?"
I hurriedly asked, "Do you have any food; I think she's hungry."
She smiled widely, happy to be of service, and snapped her fingers and a plate full of fish appeared on my bed, "Here you are, master Alex."
The furry creature launched itself off my hands onto the plate and began devouring the fish at an incredible pace. When all the fish was gone, she ambled back over and curled up in my hands and began purring contentedly.
Rubbing its head, I asked, "Now what should we call you little one." She cocked her head and looked up at me with surprisingly intelligent green eyes.
"Athena," I whispered, "You look like an Athena to me."
Athena nodded indicating her approval and promptly fell asleep. The next day I couldn't wait to show my parents how awesome Athena was. It was then that I discovered if I so much as set her down, Athena began wailing at the top of her surprisingly loud lungs. On day one, it was adorable, but as time went on, I found it increasingly annoying.