The Life and Times of Arjulia Rigel

Secret of the Medjai: Growing Up Different

Nearly tens years had passed since young Master Gryffindor took in the tiny child. The long gallery in the hallway had changed only a little since then. A portrait of a very old and kind looking man with a long white beard with a brown haired boy at his knee hung next to a newer portrait of a taller gentleman with brown hair, graying at the sides standing next to an empty chair with his hand resting on the backrest.

No picture in the gallery held any sign that another person was resident of that house.

To certain sets of eyes, of course.

To members of the house, a little, black haired, green-eyed girl could be seen sitting in the chair, straight-backed with her little hands on her lap, wearing a dark red velvet dress with pink sashes. Her skin was slightly warmer than that of the fatherly figure standing over her. Her long eyelashes captivated anyone who could see her pretty face.

The little girl was Arjulia Rigel at 10 years old, who now lived in the West Bedroom of Gryffindor Castle. It was painted last summer for her birthday. She had grown up handsome, independent and clever. Master Gryffindor thought he was very good at taking care of herself at her own age.

However, those who might've recognized her in the painting could not have recognized her now. This summer was one of those times Mrs. Dearden had talked about : when muggle leaders came to visit at the house.

Arjulia had been awoken in the middle of the night by Mrs. Dearden and taken through a passage behind the fireplace to the servant's quarters. Arjulia was sad she had to leave her luxurious room and her doll, Rose; whom she loved dearly.

The outside of the door had been disguised as part of the wall and she was to appear as servant in her own house for the days that the muggle Duke would be staying.

"Nanny, why do I have to sleep here now?"

"Your Master Gryffindor has a secret about you he cannot let mug--people like him know about. You are to appear as a little servant girl for the time being." Mrs. Dearden sounded very stern and worried. Arjulia looked curiously at her, and Mrs. Dearden held her face with one hand and Arjulia's two small hands in the other. "Please be a good girl, I know I can count on you, little Arjulia," she said in a softer tone.

"Yes, Nanny. I'll make a good maid," Arjulia said cheerfully.

"That's my good girl," Mrs. Dearden replied. "In the morning, I'll show you how to bring someone their tea; and that could be your job for the week."

For that week, Arjulia didn't speak. She did as she was told and delivered tea to Master Gryffindor and his guests.

She thought the guests were dressed rather oddly. They wore leggings that left nothing to the imagination as to the shape of their legs and what looked like a rectangular rug over their shoulders with a square hole made for their heads to go through. Their heads were adorned with oddly shaped hats made with bright colors.

They brought one kind looking woman with them, a woman that Master Gryffindor called "Princess" and "Your Highness". Arjulia had once caught them saying she was princess of a land called Dyfed.

Master Gryffindor was wearing something similar. My, what thin legs he has! Arjulia thought to herself as she briefly observed him the first morning.

His guests, who laughed at any joke Master Gryffindor said, took no notice of her. Mrs. Dearden was happy about this.

After the fifth day, Arjulia began to fell lonely. She started to miss her nightly chess games with Master Gryffindor, or the times when he'd re-tell stories of escapades and triumphs with a famous wizard he'd known called Slytherin, before his dastardly turn toward the darker magic.

Arjulia liked to hear stories of wizards and magic. It had all been so fascinating to her. She couldn't wait until she would come of age to go to the Master's school.

"You haven't complained once about all of this, little Arjulia," Mrs. Dearden spoke softly to her. "You must be angry with the master only a little."

"No, I have much faith in Master Gryffindor that he will once again play chess with me and tell me stories of Slytherin and the good lady Ravenclaw." She smiled at Mrs. Dearden.

"You are very disciplining to yourself. After a long time, that can't be of too much good to a person."

"I will relax later. As for now, I want to sit and listen to all I can. Later, my life will be very exciting and eventful. I think you'd envy me." She got up from her place by the cinders of the fireplace in her night gown and picked up a twig of kindling and pretended it was a wand.

"I could battle dark wizards," she waved around the stick like a wand, jabbing and slashing. "And tame dragons, and save all little children from ever having to go into hiding like me!"

"Such a living is never to be had by a woman! Now, settle down and go to sleep," said Mrs. Dearden. "Master Gryffindor's wedding is in the morning..."

"Master Gryffindor is getting married!!" little Arjulia yelped.

"Oh, dear! I shouldn't have said that!" Mrs. Dearden gasped. "Now you listen here, the Lady of Dyfed is a kind woman, and Master Gryffindor loves her. But I do know, that he will never forget about you, my child. So do not worry, you will have a lovely stepmother."

Arjulia watched from the highest window Master Gryffindor get married to the Princess of Dyfed in the courtyard. Arjulia had her room back. The first thing she did upon entering the newly conjured door that belonged to her quarters was hug Rose, whom she had missed.

After the dukes and other gentlemen guests left, Master Gryffindor and the princess talked for a long while in the study. Arjulia heard her crying and there were a few shouts, but soon she was called in to visit them.

"Arjulia, dearest, this is my new wife. Her name is Princess Cordelia Saxon of Dyfed. She will be living with us now."

"It is good to meet you, madam." Arjulia curtsied for her new stepmother.

"And I you, Arjulia." Her face went unchanged.

Arjulia had never received a sour greeting from anyone new before, so immediately turned her attentions to Gryffindor. "May we play chess and you can tell me stories about wizards battling to save towns and villages like before?" Arjulia asked earnestly.

"I think one more game is necessary," said thirty-five year-old Godric Gryffindor, giving a look to Cordelia.

That night, beside the roaring fireplace, he played chess with his tiny daughter.

"Have you ever seen me as a father figure?" he asked her.

"I guess so. I never knew my father, you know that," she smiled back.

"I don't recall ever telling you how you came to live here, Arjulia. Perhaps I should, now that you are 10 years old. Soon you will be old enough to go to school."

"I am very excited to go to Hogwarts..." she cut in. She got an appreciative look from Godric.

"Well, one night after grandfather Gryffindor died. I was in my house by myself with only Mrs. Dearden and few servants. I heard the front door open then close, and I came down and saw you inside our door. I immediately sent a man out to find your parents.

"He came back and told me something very strange. See, he saw two people running, a man and woman, whom where undoubtedly your parents. Then--" he stopped abruptly and looked as if he picking choice words.

Arjulia moved her bishop to E5, checking his king, and motioned for him to continue.

"Then one of those dark wizards I told you about in my stories swooped down on them and killed your father. Your mother threw a bundle of blankets at him, and tried to run.

"The blankets was a decoy of you I believe; which was only to say that this dark wizard was after you. Your mother had only ran a few paces before he killed her too.

"He came back and told me, and I ran out to a band of nomads or gypsies who settled on our land, just a few miles from here. They were going to leave that after noon had I not gotten there."

"What did they tell you?"

"Well, Suren was their leader. I had to slip him veritaserum to make him tell me why two members of his tribe were killed by a dark wizard and without the tribe's protection.

"Turns out, he had sent for the dark wizard to come and kill you. A friend of your parents, whose name I recall as Canopus, heard the plan and helped them get away."

"Why did they wish me dead?"

"They were a muggle tribe, Arjulia. You know they can become scared of magic. Suren said strange things started happening when you were born. This is only natural, but I've never heard of a magical child summoning auroras on command." He looked at her under the bridges of his eyebrows.

"I did that?" Arjulia said, astonished.

"Yes, I erased Suren's memory of your existence, so should he hear that you're still alive, it won't mean anything to him."

They sat in silence for a while. Arjulia shifted her feet more than twice, and picked at her nails.

"I knew this would trouble you," said Gryffindor.

"It does," she replied. "I wish I could know my parents or at least talk to someone who knew them."

"That is why I let Canopus stay behind when the tribe left. To come and work here."

"There is no servant in this house by that name. I know because I'm friends with them all."

"Ever wonder why Martin took such a liking to you?"

"Martin is really Canopus?"

"He changed his name, so he could go into town and get supplies and talk with the townsmen and not have anyone look twice at him, I think you should have a long talk with Martin, or Canopus. Mrs. Dearden!?"

Mrs. Dearden ducked her head over the banister of the staircase, "Yes, sir?"

"Please have Martin join us," he said.

"I will, sir," she replied and hastily went down the stairs and into the kitchen door.

"It might be a bit of a shock for him, so..."

Canopus came dashing down the stairs, "What is it, sir?" His voice sounded friendly and eager.

"Arjulia and I have been talking. She'd like to know what her parents were like, Canopus."

Canopus went white. "I ... ummm...." He began choking.

Gryffindor summoned the chair across the room for him to sit on. Canopus sat down and regained his poise. He had long, dark hair that had been tied in the back by a small piece of string. His hair was starting to gray at the sides. He looked as if he hadn't shaved for days and had a long pointed nose. He had copper colored eyes that made you look in them and wondered where he came from. He always smelt of spices and peppermint leaves, which was the best part about him in Arjulia's opinion.

"I haven't heard that name in years... Well, Arjulia... I knew your parents very well. Juhato, your father, came from Egypt and used to be a pharoh's advisor. He got tired of it and left with us. He wanted nothing more than to meet a girl and start a family. He met Dinah on our way out of the deserts.

"She was as beautiful a woman as I have ever seen. She had green eyes and dark hair like yours." He took her small hands in his and looked them over lovingly. "You have her hands. I'd swear you look just like her. However, you have your father's sensitivity and reservedness.

"Your father and I used to be hunters for the group. Every night there was celebrating, dancing, and a roaring fire. Your father did tricks for the tribe's entertainment like making things fly. Suren never liked that.

"I always believed he was using thin strings to small for us to see, but one day he took me aside and proved to me it was magic. He confided in me. Trust is something you must always treasure, Arjulia."

Arjulia was listening so intently, she hadn't noticed that Gryffindor was still sitting across from her. She nodded her head to him.

"Then one night, you were born. I remember it so clearly. Juhato came running out of the tent, holding you in his hands shouting, "My daughter! My daughter! Look how beautiful she is! My little Chavi Aziza! Chavi Aziza meant beautiful girl, but I'm not sure he said it correctly, having been away from his homeland so long."

Arjulia felt relieved and sad at the same time. She never really felt this sad before, she broke out in sobs and draped her arms over Caponus's shoulders; burying her head in his coat.

It was no doubt that Canopus was caught off-guard by this. His hands flew in the air, then relaxed; putting one on her soft, dark hair, the other patting her on the back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm crying. I'm just so happy that they loved me so, but also sad they couldn't be here now."

"The only reason for that is because of someone's fear. Suren was afraid of what he didn't know was good; he was only doing what any other selfish muggle would do," Gryffindor comforted.

Arjulia turned her head to the side, facing Gryffindor with her ear still to Canopus's chest. "I want to go to school now."

"Your birthday is coming this month, the twenty first is it?" said Gryffindor. He looked at a decorative calendar of the month of July. "You'll be 11 years of age. I say you'll be starting term at Hogwarts. Your name has been down since the day after you came here."

"Oh Gryffindor!" She leapt onto his shoulders in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you..."

Canopus noticed the fire grew in size just as she did that.

And a few weeks later, there was a grand breakfast waiting for Arjulia on the twenty first. It was quite a surprise for Arjulia, she walked into the bustling room holding Rose in one arm and rubbing her eyes with the other. Gryffindor and her stepmother were waiting for her.

There were crystal glasses and gold utensils and plates for eating. Every good thing to eat was laid out beautifully for her on shining platters. But the table was only set for three.

"Only three? Why not have everyone in the house come and eat with us?"

"Alright, Mrs. Dearden, have the others set the table for 10 more. It is a special day, after all." Gryffindor smiled, and picked up the child. Cordelia was looking sour. "You see? Today you are 11, and this came for you." He gave her a letter written in green writing addressed to her.

Arjulia Rigel

West Bedroom

Gryffindor Castle

She opened it carefully, reading a curly handwriting.

Ms. Arjulia Rigel,

You have been accepted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please be advised that all students are to report to the lake hillside to board boats across a lake to take them directly to Hogwarts at sunset.

A list of texts and supplies you shall be needing is attached to this letter.

Sincerely,

Rowena Ravenclaw

Deputy Headmistress

Arjulia smiled and looked at Gryffindor, who was still holding her in his arms.

"You know, you're getting so old know. I scarcely believe that I will be able to hold you up like this much longer."

He put her down, and sat her down at the head of the table.

She, Gryffindor, Cordelia, Mrs. Dearden, and Canopus, and the other 8 servants sat down together and ate breakfast at the table that day. Each of them tried their best to eat properly. By the end of the meal, everyone was laughing by their futile attempts. Canopus had even tried to hold a spoon upside down.

Master Gryffindor was out for portions of the day for many of the days that followed, making preparations for the beginning of school term.

Arjulia sensed something was wrong when he came home distressed. Something had not gone as planned, or he had an argument with someone. Arjulia just knew it.