Stacey Jackson - The Elixir of Power

Chapter Three: Into the Maze

I slept in until ten the next morning. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was my father's stern face.

"Why did you sleep in so late?" he demanded.

"Uh, I didn't fall asleep until one," I said, pulling up the covers more. I didn't like my father seeing my pajamas, consisting of a flannel tank-top and pants, both blue with clouds. I loved them. "I found it kinda hard, adjusting to the new time zone and environment."

My father nodded. "I guess I could understand that," he said. "Well, you had better eat breakfast. Mr. Lupin is about ready to start on lunch."

"Oh," I said, sitting up. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"All right." My father nodded, and then he left. I yawned, and went into my bathroom.

As I brushed my hair, I looked at my right arm, where my scar was. I wondered why no one would believe that it was real. I mean, sure, Harry Potter did seem like a nice guy who was apparently a great Quidditch Player, but I didn't really care. I don't normally brag, but I have to admit, the best players are the ones who can play more than one position, like myself.

I sighed, and went back into my room, and grabbed an outfit, consisting of a blue peasant blouse, capris that only came up to my hips, and my favorite platform shoes with no backs (sliders, I think they're called). I slid on my watch, and my power bead bracelet. Then I magically crimped my hair, put in my contacts, and then I went into the kitchen.

Remus saw me walk in, and smiled. He set a plate of waffles with butter and syrup and orange juice on the table for me. I yawned again, stretched, and sat down.

"Thanks, Remus," I said, before digging in. My father glanced sourly at me as he walked in. He'd never approved of my eating habits, but I couldn't care less.

I finished pretty quickly. Then I asked, "So, is there anything interesting to look at around here?"

"Ah, you like exploring? Well, yes, there's plenty of interesting things around here. Would you like me to pack you some lunch?" Remus asked, as he started to do so. I nodded, but my father had his own ideas.

"Stacey, I was hoping you might help me prepare the lessons for this year," he said.

"Father," I said, "you know I like exploring. Besides, I'll get cabin fever if I stay in here another minute. I really need to get out."

My father sighed. "All right," he said, "but please be back before five."

"Sure thing," I said, taking the lunch from Remus. "See you then." And then I went out.

It was a nice, warm day. Remus had a beautiful garden, and the air was filled with their scent. I walked around, smiling. It was very beautiful out here.

I noticed a maze made of hedges, and I couldn't resist it. I ran in, and was almost immediately lost within its pathways. I walked around for at least a half an hour, before I spotted a bench in what I guessed must be the center of the maze. I sat down, and looked around me. It was so peaceful.

I was just relaxing, when suddenly my scar burned. I jumped, and clapped my hand onto it. "Ow!" I lifted my left hand, and stared at it. My arm felt as though it was being torn apart, but my arm was just a little red from where my hand had been. The scar looked as it normally did. I was very confused.

I glanced at my watch. It was eleven. I sighed, and gently rubbed my arm. Then what Sirius had said last night suddenly came to mind again.

"Harry was in danger. His scar and Voldemort are somehow connected, and it was proof that Voldemort was going to rise again."

I wondered if maybe the same thing was happening to me as well. But that was impossible. I looked around thoughtfully. I mean, the guy who was responsible for my scar was completely dead. I was positive of that. And besides, there's no spell that can bring someone back from the dead. It's totally impossible.

Then the sound of someone walking towards me reached my ears. I looked up, and saw Sirius Black come walking up.

"Hello, Stace," he said, using my mom's nickname for me. I'd never let anyone use it since she'd died, but I somehow didn't mind him saying it.

"Hi," I said, motioning to the spot next to me. Sirius smiled, and then he sat down.

"Don't like being indoors?" he asked. I nodded.

"I've spent most of my life being cooped up inside by my father," I said, "and I just can't stand it. I really need time outside, or else I go mad." Sirius smiled.

"I understand that perfectly," he said. "After spending twelve years in Azkaban, I really needed some time outside, and I got it."

I laughed. "Yeah, but that's worse than me," I said. "You were in there for something you didn't do. I just got stuck inside because my father always made me Ôhelp' him prepare his lessons." I made the quotation marks with my fingers.

"You didn't actually help?"

"No, I did all the work myself. My father never likes to admit it, but I'm a lot smarter than him," I sighed. "It was always a lot of work. Sometimes I wonder just how I managed to make it through Meridianis with all his extra work." I lifted up my right arm to brush the hair out of my eyes, but the pain in my scar suddenly came back.

"Ow!" I cried, quickly bringing my arm down. Sirius suddenly looked concerned.

"What is it?" he asked.

"N-nothing," I said quickly. Sirius gave me a look that said he didn't believe me.

"Nice try, Stace," he said, "but that's a lie. An Ôow!' has to mean something. Harry always did that to me as well. Now, what is it?"

I gulped. "Um, it was this," I finally said, showing Sirius my scar. Sirius' face darkened.

"How did you get that?" he asked. I looked away.

"I got it when my mom died," I said. I told everything that happened back on that fateful day. When I was done, I managed to look at him. "Do you believe me?"

"You got it the same day that Harry got his?" Sirius asked, clearly avoiding my question. I nodded.

"Do you believe me?" I asked again, searching his eyes. Sirius stared right back at me.

"Yes," he said. His eyes told the truth. He wasn't lying. I smiled.

"You're the first person to ever believe me," I said. Sirius smiled too.

"Well, from after all I've ever been through, it's hard for me not to," he said. "Werewolves and traitors and dementors make almost everything seem like a walk in the park." He looked around. "What time is it?"

"It's , uh," I glanced at my watch, "noon. Thank goodness Remus gave me this lunch."

"Is there enough for two in there?" Sirius asked. I looked in the bag, and nodded.

"You'd think he knew that you were going to come out here," I said, handing Sirius his part of the lunch. Sirius smiled.

"I like to come out here every day," he admitted. "It's so peaceful, and I can think better out in the open."

We shared an enjoyable lunch, and then Sirius showed me some hidden parts of the maze that no one else could ever find. I saw Buckbeak, the hippogriff. I bowed to him, and he bowed back. He really seemed to like me.

"It's probably because you're so much like Harry," Sirius said. I stared at him.

"Harry was the only brave person willing to go into a cage full of them in his third year," Sirius explained. "I watched him from in the forest."

"Oh," I said, gently stroking the large beast. When we left, I smiled and waved to him. I swear he smiled back!

I saw some amazing wonders in the large back garden. "How does Remus managed to pay for all this?" I asked. "I mean, his robes aren't exactly in the best state..."

"Oh, that." Sirius sighed. "He cares more about nature than himself. It's one of the side effects of being a werewolf."

"Ah, I see," I said, watching some grindylows in the giant pond making faces at us. We left them, and Sirius showed me where Remus stayed when he transformed.

"In fact," Sirius said, "the next full moon is next week. I wonder how he's going to handle that without your father noticing."

"Maybe you could make a Polyjuice Potion," I suggested, "and pretend to be him until the moon wanes. My father doesn't really like being around Remus, so you wouldn't have too many problems."

"Maybe that would work," Sirius said thoughtfully. "Well, it's worth a try."

We stayed out until it was 4:55. Then Sirius showed me a short-cut back to the house, before heading off to his secret entrance to the basement. I went inside into the kitchen. Remus was busy making dinner.

"So, how'd you like it?" he asked as I walked in.

"It's beautiful out there," I said. "Where's my father?"

"In the suite," Remus said. "He told me to send you straight to him when you got back." He paused, before asking, "So, did you see Sirius?"

I nodded. "He showed me Buckbeak, and the pond, and, well, just everything! I loved it." I smiled, and then, I headed off to meet my father in his suite. When I got there, I quickly looked myself over. At least I didn't look bad. I knocked.

"Come in," my father said. I opened the door, and walked in. My father was sitting at his desk.

"So, did you enjoy yourself?" he asked. I nodded, knowing that he didn't want to hear about it.

"Wonderful," he said, even though I knew he hadn't wanted me out there in the first place. "Now then, these are the requirements for the lessons for the first term." He handed me the list. I looked it over.

"Okay," I said. "So, should we get started?" I always asked this, even though I knew his answer. He just didn't want me to say, "Should I get started?" That would've been catastrophic.

"I'm afraid that I cannot help you," my father said, like as usual. "I have some other matters to attend to." I nodded, and he left. So, as usual, I got started.

**********************

It was dinner time when I finished. It never took me very long, but I still hated it. So, I organized everything, and I went to the dining room for dinner.

"Hello," Remus said as I walked in. "You're done?" I nodded.

"It's never taken me a lot of time to write the lesson plans, but I still hate it." I sat down. "Where's my father?"

"Oh, he owled me to say that he wouldn't' be able to make tonight," Remus said. "He won't be back until ten. So, I decided that Sirius could eat with us." As he spoke, Sirius walked in. I smiled, and he returned it.

We had a very enjoyable dinner. I found out everything I could about Hogwarts, and Sirius gave me a map.

"We made the original one while we were in school," he explained, "and I made an extra copy for just in case." The title on the map was "The Marauder's Map."

"All you have to do," Sirius said, "is tap it and say, ÔI solemnly swear that I'm up to no good.' And to clear it, you tap it again and say, ÔMischief managed.' Got it?"

"Yeah," I said, carefully looking the map over. I was amazed by all the shortcuts, hidden passages, and the special tunnels leading off somewhere.

"Where do these lead?" I asked Sirius, pointing out the tunnels.

"Oh, those go to Hogsmeade, the only pure wizarding village in Britain. And this one," he said, pointing out one that was under a rare Whomping Willow, "goes to the Shrieking Shack."

"Shrieking Shack?" I asked.

"It's the shack I used when I transformed," Remus explained. "Everyone in the village thought that very disturbed ghosts lived in there, and Dumbledore encouraged it. Even now, those who live there are scared to death of the place, even though it's been quiet for years."

"Oh," I said. I had to admit, the work was amazing for teenagers to have done. "What happened to the original one?"

"In our last year at Hogwarts, Filch, the caretaker, confiscated it from us. It didn't matter though; we knew everything on it by then, so we let him. Then Fred and George Weasley, Ron's older twin brothers, found it in their first year there, and figured out how to work it. Then, two years ago, they gave it to Harry. And it's been his since," Sirius said.

"When am I ever going to see Harry?" I asked. Remus looked thoughtful.

"Well, you could see him at Diagon Alley, where all the stores are, or you could meet him at King's Cross Station, or on the Hogwarts Express, or at the Start-of-Term feast, or when he shows up in your father's class," he replied. I stared glumly at my plate.

"It'll probably be the last one," I sighed. "It's how my luck works, after all."

We finished dinner, and then I went to my room to take a shower. After that, I got into my pajamas. When I came out, my father was knocking on my door.

"Yes?" I asked, opening it just enough for him to see me.

"Very excellent work," he said. I smiled slightly.

"Thank you," I said. He nodded, and then he left, saying over his shoulder, "Tomorrow we'll work on Term Two."

"All right," I said, before shutting the door. I dropped onto my bed, and lay staring at the map on my desk. Then I stood up, grabbed my wand, and tapped the map, whispering, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank.

I slid it into my handbag, and then I went to bed.

**********************

Over the week, I spent time outside exploring everything and visiting Buckbeak. He'd taken to me quite nicely. Then Sirius suggested that I should try riding him.

"I dunno," I said uncertainly. Sirius smiled.

"It's not quite as convenient as a broom, but when you're running for your life and soul, it's the best," he said. I nodded, and then I climbed up onto Buckbeak. He flew around in an area that was out of sight from the house for about ten minutes. I could so totally tell that I was going to be really sore after this. When he went back down and landed, I climbed off stiffly.

"Ow," I muttered. "That was sure fun."

Sirius broke out into laughter. "It most certainly is," he said, smiling again.

Along with that was doing the lesson plans for the other three terms. It was tiring, but if my father got into some sort of accident, I could do it instead. No one could read my writing if I didn't want them to.

That was another weird thing about me. If I tell someone that they can't read something I wrote, and they try, then they can't. It was kinda like back when I was one, and I made the Killing Curse kill that Death Eater instead of me. I didn't understand it, but I'd never told anyone besides Sirius about it. I felt as though I could trust him.

Of course, he was a little skeptical at first, but I proved it to him. I'd written something on a piece of paper, and I asked him to read it aloud, which he did. Then I'd told him that when he looked at it next, he wouldn't be able to read even one word of it. So, he tried, but he couldn't.

"How did you-?" he was so shocked, he couldn't finish his question.

"Heck if I know," I said, shrugging. "I've been able to do it ever since that Halloween."

"Wow." Sirius, for the first time, was at a lack of words besides, "wow."

Then, on Sunday, my father insisted that we go to a church service. He hadn't insisted on that since I'd graduated. He liked to go to different churches to see if the religion was agreeable with him, or something like that. I always went along to listen to his criticism. I'd started wondering if he'd ever find one he liked.

This time, we went to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It was a somewhat smaller congregation, but I found that this one seemed to hold more truth in it. One girl there, named Lucinda Gulley, told me this true story of a man named Joseph Smith. She asked me what I thought of it when she finished.

"I- it- uh," I was at a loss for words. She smiled.

"Do you believe it?" she asked. I nodded dumbly.

"Then maybe we could set up an appointment with some missionaries," she said. But my father interrupted.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he said. "We're far too busy for appointments. Come along, Stacey."

"Yes, father," I said glumly. I glanced at Lucinda, sighed, and shrugged, while mouthing, "Maybe another time."

She nodded before heading off. My father led me to the car, criticizing everything. When we got in, I finally couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Father, are you even interested in joining any church?" I knew instantly that I shouldn't've asked. My father glared at me.

"Yes, I am," he snapped. "You just need to have patience." And he was off, criticizing more, but I felt that I should push it this time.

"You've been going to different churches since I was eight," I said as we left the parking lot, "and you've never liked even one of them. I'm sorry, but it seems to me that you don't even want to join any church. I swear, we've been to just about every religion that exists, excluding Buddhism. And that church back there is far more believable than any other one I've ever been to. Besides, we're not even all that busy. Their missionaries could visit us."

"I WILL NOT HAVE MY OWN DAUGHTER CRITICIZE EVERY MOVE I MAKE!" my father yelled. I stared at him, shocked.

"I don't criticize everything you do," I said angrily. "It's just when it comes to religion that I've got a problem with you. All you like doing is criticizing."

"That is not true," my father said, something like a child.

I sighed, but didn't push it any further. My father, if pushed too far, could be abusive. And look who got him for a father. Little ol' me.

We drove in silence for about a minute, before my father said, "Tomorrow, we are going up to meet Albus Dumbledore so we can find out everything we need to know."

"Fine with me," I said, staring out the window. Terrific. Absolutely terrific. I was going to go to a school with uncounted levels where you could easily get lost. Boy, what luck I had.

At dinner that night, my father said, "You will need to wear robes, Stacey."

I grimaced. "Why?" I asked. "You know I hate wearing them."

"Yes, I do, but Headmaster Dumbledore will be expecting the best out of both of us, in appearance and in action."

"I'm not wearing robes," I insisted. My father's eyes narrowed, and Remus decided to step in.

"Mister Jackson," he said, "Albus Dumbledore isn't very particular about dressing in robes. In fact, if he could have his way, he'd do away with robes altogether. But, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if Stace wore Muggle clothes." I smiled at him.

My father sighed. "If you insist," he said. "But at least make them look good. Is that understood?" I nodded. "Good."

After dinner, I got ready for bed. I sat on my bed, thinking about how strange my father was. He didn't believe in words like "it's," or "can't," or "didn't," or anything like that. It had to be "it is," or something like that.

I'm sure that it doesn't make sense as to why I call my father simply "my father." Well, "dad's" too close of a relationship. "Father" is so much more formal, and it totally fits him. And I always called my mom "mom" because I loved her a lot. "Mother" was way too formal for her. She wasn't a very formal person as it was.

Even though I'd never known her very well, I still loved and missed her. That's a wound that doesn't heal easily. I sighed, turned out my light, and fell asleep.