Desiganted Harbinger - Secrets

(Jessica's pov: outside the kitchen)

After getting squeaky clean, I sneaked down the stairs. Straining to hear what was going on, I leaned close to the doorway. "They're talking about me, right? I should be allowed to hear what's going on," I reasoned. Not wanting to be caught, I congratulated myself on not being spotted so far.

You know how most parents have a sixth sense when it comes to their kids? Well, my parents definitely had that advantage. I rarely could get away with anything! When I was younger, I often blocked out the windows in my room using blankets. Little noises make me jump. Eddie, a boy down the street, nicknamed me "Mouse" until I threatened to clobber him.

Why was I doing these things? Well, my dear Mom has one warped sense of humor. She told me when I was five and a half that she could turn me into any type of bird if I disobeyed her. Of course, I foolishly believed her. Why would she lie to me? I knew then that my mom was a witch and had seen her do other incredible feats, so it must have been true. Since she usually knew when I was hiding something, it appeared to be possible. Sometimes Mom even knew why and exactly what I had been doing too.

Focusing on the sounds coming from the kitchen, I regret my inability to manipulate my senses like Dad could. I could not help but overhear parts of their conversation "Jess---go---path---support---pray." Not much, huh?

Confused, I shook my head. /What! Am I going to some type of park?/

I repeated Dad's words through my mind a couple of times. /It almost sounds like they're going to send me to some sort of military school. Yuck! Please, not that! Military green is soo NOT my color. With my skin tone, that shade? I'll look like I'm about to puke at any moment!/

I try to remember if I've done anything that would get me into this kind of trouble. /Well--there was that time that I poured ketchup into Lindsey's chair at lunch time but that was weeks ago./

My mind flashed back and I have just enough control to keep from laughing. Lindsey shrieked so loudly, when she sat down in the ketchup, that three kids blew milk out their noses. That was great, a two-for-one. /Okay, maybe it was petty but Lindsey was being such a snob. I just had to retaliate. Still, that joke was still no reason to send me to a military school./

Cringing slightly at that thought, I could almost hear my father's voice calling me out for another lesson in morals. /Oh, wait! That's real!/ I stumbled slightly then grimaced. Caught once again by Mr. Radar.

I peeked around the bend of the doorway. Dad was smiling at me while Mom looked stuck between being amused and angry. I'm hoping for her being amused.

Dad is grinning at me now. "Yeah, you. I asked for you to come in, Jess-Monkey," he says calling me by that silly nickname. I don't get it.

I tilt my head to the side slightly and try to look cute as I walk casually into the kitchen, Yep, that's right. I'm going for amused. "So, time for dinner?"

The question distracts Mom so she glanced at the clock. "Not quite," she says her eyes glinting with--reluctance?

/Maybe she's trying to avoid me or something. Could the news be that bad?/ Usually, Mom has a lot more fun catching me at spying.

"Peter'll be dropped off a little before five," she adds. I nod. It's just 4:30 (PM) so he'd still be at Richie's house playing.

"OK, soo--- ya wanted to talk?" I asked, still trying to get out of being caught as well as easing my natural curiosity. I really should be used to it by now. This was the real reason why I was afraid of birds. Dad can usually tell who's in the next room and when a person is lying. He then tells Mom letting her deal with us kids. Guess he has to rat us out but then feels a little guilty about doing so at times. Most of the time, we can't get anything past them. It's a cool skill but still very annoying. Makes my job of being a kid so much harder than it should be.

Mom looked shocked at my question. I wondered why. /She must really be dreading this conversation. Who is this person and where is my mother? Mom looked like she tried to knock herself out./

They're both pretty levelheaded most of the time, despite their strange personalities. Then again, aren't adults supposed to be the thinkers, planners, and stuff? And people wonder why I'm not rushing to grow up. There's time for that later.

Hmm, she still didn't said anything so I look to Dad. He nods at me then clears his throat. Mom's head jerks to his direction. Damn glad she's not looking at me like that.

"Yeah, Jess-Monkey. Grab a seat," he motions to the booth near him.

I love our kitchen booth. It's a half circle booth and table. Mom is in the chair on the open end of the table and I slide in the booth sitting almost opposite of Dad.

/With the way they're reacting I'm thinking they'll let the spying slide this time. It really didn't do me any good anyway. Unless I really am going to a military school./ I gulp nervously and wait for the axe to fall.

Dad asks, "Marie, will you bring me the letter, please?"

Mom seems to be glad for an excuse to leave the room. I look at Mom right before she quickly gets up and leaves the room. Her chair made a screeching sound as she pushed it back suddenly making me grimace.

Looking at Dad, my expression must have been giving me away as he sighed before saying, "Let's read the letter out loud first and then we'll have our discussion." I know, I'm impatient but at least I don't seem to be in trouble. If I am, they'd probably be yelling at me by now.

Mom swiftly returns to the kitchen holding a piece of paper which she places firmly in the middle of the table staring at it as if it was a snake ready to strike.

/Man, why would this frighten her? I'm the one this concerns - the one in trouble. Right?/

The letter (more like a package really) looks odd. Thick and heavy, the envelope was a yellowish color. Is that PARCHMENT? Only really eccentric people would use parchment paper.

/Surely, this can't be from a military school. So what is it?/ I reach out and bring it closer. My parents are strangely silent. Almost as if they were waiting for me do something incredible. OK, it wasn't usually quite that hard in this house but they are starting to freak me out today.

I look at the envelope noting the strange texture of the paper, our address written in green ink and the wax seal is broken. The lack of a stamp on the envelope made it even stranger. /How did it get delivered without a stamp?/

The already opened letter is addressed to me:

Miss J. Bradley

Room Labeled The Disaster Area

12 County Line Road

Gainesville, VA

U.S.A.

After glancing at my parents, I cautiously open and read the letter. They must want to see my reaction. So, no explanations for me. I skim the writing with my eyes growing wider as I read each word. Then I very carefully read it again. The bright emerald green ink revealed:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)

Dear Miss Bradley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Shocked, I automatically looked at the next sheet of paper. And heck, yeah, it was a list. Raising my head, I noted that both Mom and Dad were still silent.

They appeared worried, both frowning and waiting until it got to be too much for them.

Dad waved his right hand through my path of vision.

Mom began to smirk and said, "Jess, hun. You're starting to drool."

Both of their actions snapped me back to reality. "I'm a WITCH!" I shouted.

Dad shook his head. Maybe his ears hurt.

"Oh-My-God! I'm a Witch!" I said excitedly before suddenly frowning. "But how can I be a Witch? I thought I was a Psychic. Mom?"

"Well, brat--I don't rightly know how, but it appears that you're both a Witch and a Psychic. You remember how I told you that I gave birth to you in England? See, I didn't trust those Muggle's doctors (not being familiar with Muggle ways yet), so you were born there near my family."

Mom teared up a bit. I don't understand it but she tends to do that when she talks about that time. If it wasn't for their reassurances, I'd have wondered if I was an unwanted child - an accident.

She coughed lightly and continued, "Hogwarts was the school most of my family went to. I had a great time there as a girl. Anyway, I figure- since you were born in England that they must have registered you to attend school there."

I nodded; Mom had told me about the magical book that registers each birth of witches and wizards in the country. Each school had one and never revealed the information outside of the senior staff members.

"But why all this production? And I remember you telling me when I was six that I couldn't be a witch because I'm a psychic?" My eyes searched them closely for answers. There must be more to this.

Mom sighed and looked towards Dad.

He leaned forward folding his hands together and looking serious. "Jess, the genetics between different races is a tricky thing. No one quite knows how it works even between themselves. Psychics and Wizards - It's almost unheard of them intermingling let alone having offspring."

Pausing, Dad took a deep breath. "Frankly, we had no idea what would happen. So, we were judging your abilities by theory. The theory is that with Psychics and Wizards being so opposite of each other from their talents to their origins, that the likelihood of children with any powers was slim to none. It was a joy when we discovered that you showed psychic potential. When we saw signs that Peter also being psychic a couple of months ago, we figured maybe psychic abilities are more dominant. Neither of you show signs that you had any type of magic," he finished looking weary.

Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs, I thought back on his words. OK, genetics, big science, hard to understand. And here I was thinking I'm good at it. I don't understand.

"I don't understand. So, what are you saying? Am I not a witch? A weak one? I know I'm psychic and you said I've got strong potential there, but what now? And why are you guys so worried?" My questions were firing out of my mouth like bullets from a gun.

Mom smiled slightly while Dad chuckled and pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear fondly.

"You're a witch, my girl. If you want to go, you can," Mom said.

Dad turned somewhat serious, "Don't know how strong you'll be or the effects of a Psychic-Witch. You'll have to find that out for us. But this is going to be tougher than you think, if you decide to go."

He looked straight into my eyes - eyes that were so similar to his. "We told you about the prejudice that exists. You'll will have to deal with that constantly without our presence. Also, if you decide to go, we will have to figure out what you are going to tell people as well as how to teach you your psychic lessons while you are there."

I sat thinking. /So this is what all that fuss is about./ Searching the faces of my parents, I saw tons of emotions. I allowed my eyes to become unfocused and searched their auras. Auras always reveal the truth.

Dad's aura was a mix of blues, indigo, amber, some pale and dark green, pink, and apricot. Some were steady, others moving-flashing suddenly. His aura was mostly normal for him, just being extra supportive and a little worried.

Mom's aura was sky and navy blue, amber, apricot, a good bit of viridian, and a little bit of rustic red. Mom worried than Dad but she was still supportive.

Turning my head downward, I looked at my arms. Can't do the aura analysis to myself very well without a mirror but I tried anyway. Primrose, royal blue, and a few other colors registered. Well, that was my assessment. I took these pieces of information and considered the possibilities. Now, I must make my decision.

Dad looked at me knowingly, nodding as I said, "I'm going to Hogwarts. We'll deal with the rest."

Mom released a shaky breath and then gave me a tight smile. "You know what this also means," she said.

I waited, not liking the look in her eyes.

"SHOPPING," she said cheerfully.

I groaned and dropped my head on to the table harder than intended. (BANG) "Oww!"

"Cheer up Jess-Monkey, we have massive lessons for you to do and planning for the school year," his eyes shining. Yet, his face was serious.

I muttered, "I'm not a monkey. I'm a leopard!"

Dad smiled at me and said, "Now, Jess you know that your spirit guide usually isn't the type of animal you'd be personality wise. You are more likely to be the opposite."

A strange look appeared on my face as I cheekily said, "Hey, does that mean I'm a bitch (female dog)?" Mom glared at me. He shook his head, amused, and I smirked.

My parents had quite a time plotting my eventual trip to England. See, they couldn't just let me leave. No, they had to make it a huge production over the next few days. Multiple lists piled on the table and onto the floor. Mom kept muttering about a shopping spree using some very strange words. Dad was on the phone a lot. Almost hourly, they both stressed to me the seriousness of my decision and its effects. Never before did the secret of my family seem so strenuous. The only two people that I could talk to about the problem were preoccupied. The other two people whom I wanted to tell but couldn't were my best friend and my brother.

(Time: The Night Jessica Made Her Decision)

When Peter came home it appeared to be an ordinary evening. Mom, Dad, and Sis were all sitting at the kitchen table. Mom and Dad were talking and writing notes while his older sister, Jessica, was reading a book, as usual. She's weird in that way. Always reading and studying, when not picking on him or having fun. She even chose to go to summer college camp. That's not a real camp. There were no tents, crafts, woods or smores there. No, she's going to school. Like he thought, Sis is a little weird.

With Jessica gone during the day, this week had been boring. On Tuesday, Mom called Ritchie's and arranged for Peter to play at his house. It was cool. Ritchie was Peter's best friend and had a swimming pool. After finishing swimming, they played other games. Peter was still wearing a damp towel, like a cape, as he had been pretending to be Superman.

Peter, six years old, was dropped off at his house. He opened the front door, paused, and took a loud breath before belting out, "Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's Superman!"

His voice rang loudly through the house in a kid's high-pitched voice. All three members of his family looked at him from where they were sitting. Jessica grinned at him. Dad smiled then began straightening papers.

Mom took one look at him and demanded he get out of her sight. Well, actually she said, "Hey kido. Take that towel off and put it in the laundry room this minute." He guesses she didn't want him to continue running around in a damp, grass-stained towel.

Peter dashed towards the laundry room with his towel still trailing behind him like the cape it was intended to be. When he came back, Mom was busy cooking dinner, Dad was carrying some papers upstairs and his sister was fixing the table.

/Yum! Almost dinner time!/ He jumped into the booth and said, "Guess, what we did?"

"Besides getting dirty?" Jessica answered, sarcastically. Mom shot her a disapproving look.

"Nooo," Peter drawled and stuck his tongue out at Jess.

"What?" Mom asked, willing to play into his question if it'd avoid their bickering.

"Ritchie and me went swimming and then played Good Guys and Bad Guys. I was Superman. You could have been Lois Lane, Jess, if you didn't go to that yuckie school," he said, looking at his sister with disgust. School was OK but not fun. /How could she want to go there during the summer vacation?/

A warning look came from Mom when Jess ruffled his sandy colored hair. "Stop that!" /Sisters!/ he squirmed.

"Ya know, shortie. Lois and Superman eventually got married," she said, smirking.

Peter was shocked. /Yuck! Superman couldn't. Girls have cooties!/ He made a gagging sound and said, "Eww! Why would he do that? It's gross!"

Smiling, Dad entered the room and exchanged a look with Mom. "Kids," it seemed to say. Both kids gave Mom and Dad a look and shook their heads. Their looks said, "Parents."

Peter considered himself to be a very smart fellow. After dinner, but before bed time, he took a couple of minutes to have a serious thinking session. Something was different that night.

Throughout dinner, Peter's parents appeared distracted. Every once in a while they'd be silent for a moment, seem about to say something, then change their minds. Jessica didn't act like a pain, as usual, either. Still, they didn't talk to Peter about whatever was going on although they definitely listened to him when he talked. Several times, however, they focused their sole attention on Jessica. It happened just enough to irk him and make him feel a little jealous.

The fact that Walter had also been trying to talk to Peter all evening made him rather curious. Walt would whisper, "Watch them. Isn't there something different about them tonight? Something's definitely going on between Jessica and your parents."

Jessica was not bad - being a sister, a girl, and all that; but why were they paying so much attention to her? Lately, she and Dad have been going to his office for hours at a time. He could hear music coming from the room at times but didn't understand what they were doing.

/Dad told me that they were studying some of his books but he wouldn't tell me what./ When asked, all he'd say was, "When you're older, Peter. You wouldn't understand right now and would be bored."

That really bugged him. /Whatever she can do, I can do too! It's not fair. I might not have fun or like what they're doing but I can decide that myself - not them./ Sometimes Mom would be in there instead of Dad. Still, one of them would always be around making sure he didn't interrupt them. Over the last month, he'd gotten used to it. Then again, now something else is happening-- he wanted to know what was going on.

It didn't hit me until two days later as to what I actually did. I never thought that going to a new school would be such a big deal. Mom and Dad talked a lot and did various errands, but it was Friday when I realized that I had just changed the rest of my life as well as their lives. I started feeling really nervous and guilty about that.

"WHAT?" my voice carried loudly.

Peter dazedly looked around the living room, surprised. No wonder, It wasn't every day that your parents came in, turned off the TV, and announced you're moving to England.

/Why? Why are they doing this?/ I asked myself.

"Yep, kids. We're moving. Just outside of Reading to be exact. I didn't want to say anything until we were sure but we've been thinking about it for some time," Dad said, adding to Mom's statement.

/Oh, like that helped./ Geography wasn't my best subject.

"Isn't that the place with all the shopping outlets?" Peter asked, confused.

Dad shook his head while Mom's amused eyes shone and said, "No, Peter. You're thinking about Reading, Pennsylvania. This Reading is a city in England - across the Atlantic Ocean. It's not far from London, where I was born."

He tilted his head to the side then. "Oh. Why?"

I watched my parents' faces. With almost as much confusion as Peter, I wondered what they'd say next. I knew the reason why I was going but why was my whole family relocating?

Dad glanced at me, communicating a silent message. Regardless of what was said, the real reason was my going to Hogwarts. I was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of both guilt and love for what they were doing for me.

Mom said, "A while ago, I applied for a job to teach abroad in England. I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up until a firm job offer was made. Your father and I talked about it and we feel that it would be good for you to live in and learn about the culture where I was reared. We want you to visit my old homeland. A couple of days ago, I got the acceptance letter from the school in Reading.

I was impressed. /Is this just a cover story or is it for real?/

As I looked at Dad questioningly, he said, "I had to make a couple of calls, arrangements. Your Great Uncle Thomas on my side of the family lives in London and is helping us move. We called realtors there and made a bid on a house in Charvil. The school systems there are very good. My shop will take a couple of months to set up, but is doable. The local craftsmen are also interested in me teaching as a guest instructor."

He paused then gave us a sympatric look. Dad said, "It's a good opportunity. I'm sorry if this bothers you guys, but I think you'll grow to like it there. We plan to move at the beginning of August letting us have time to settle in before school starts."

/Wow! That gives us a month and a half! At least I won't be in a new country on my birthday. Damn! I'm going to have to say goodbye to Christy. I thought that I'd be home at least for the holidays and stuff. Didn't know things would change this much./

Peter, who'd been silent and openmouthed at the same time, yelled, "This isn't fair! You didn't ask us! What about my friends? This is my home!" He ran out of the room with his face red with emotion. Mom followed.

/Part of me is glad he left. If I saw tears in those gray eyes, I would have confessed everything./ That wouldn't have been good because no matter how smart and mature Peter is, he's still a six-year-old boy. Kids his age tend to tell anyone willing to listen all the family's secrets.

I sighed, peering at Dad. My parents had both looked resolved yet saddened at Peter's reaction. "What is the real reason?" I asked.

Dad sat on the couch next to me and squeezed my shoulder. "You are just almost eleven years old, Jess. Did you really think we'd just let you go to England by yourself? We love you and need to keep you as safe as we can. That means not having an ocean between us. Now we'll be just a few hours away."

He was speaking the truth. I could tell. "Will Peter forgive me?"

Dad brushed hair from my eyes and locked his glaze with mine. "He is young but resilient. He'll bounce back, get excited for a bit and make new friends. It's actually a good time for the move. You'll be starting at Hogwarts as an English secondary school and Peter is just the right age for his first year at a primary school. All the students will be new, although he can't change the fact that he's American," Dad said, smiling slightly. That made me feel a little better.

Mom came back in about fifteen minutes later. "He'll be OK. He's just feeling a little ignored and insecure right now. We need to involve him in the planning and get him excited about the new opportunities and adventures he will have there."

I got up and hugged Mom, surprising her. "Love you," I mumbled.

"Love you too, hun. Don't worry. I loved England and I'm sure you guys will too. Also, I can soon start feeding you some proper food," she said to me.

Dad was smiling at both of us. Things are tense right now but hopefully, not as bad as it seems. /Now I just have to figure out how to deal with Peter and Christy./

It is now Friday and college summer camp is finally over. Now I have to break the news to Christy tomorrow. She and I have known each other for five years. We met each other because she and I were the only girls who lived nearby. She loved being outdoors and is more athletic than me. I'd end up having a blast with her dragging me into some type of adventure. While she usually initiated the action, I'd expand it. Sometimes it would be a competition of who'd have the crazier ideas. I dreaded telling her that my family and I were moving to England.

On Saturday morning, I rode my neon purple bike over to Christy's after phoning her first, as usual. I knew that Mom had already talked to Mrs. Mason from the tone of her voice when I telephoned Christy. Riding down the sidewalk, I passed a couple of large yards and houses.

Gainesville wasn't a very large town, located about an hour and a half drive from Washington, D.C. if you take I-95 south. The area had a lot of undeveloped forestland and a couple of lakes. A decent sized downtown and a nice shopping district helped make it a great place to live.

The area I rode through is made up of single family houses surrounded by large lawns and trees. I stopped my bike as I reached her driveway. Her house was gray with white trim, a ranch house typical of the area.

My family doesn't live centrally because of Dad's work. He needs a certain amount of space for his workshop. Christy's father works with for the Federal government. I'm not sure what he does but I think it has something to do with computers and economics. Her Mom works for an office somewhere outside DC. They both moved out here to get out of the city.

Since both of her parents commute to DC to work and mine don't, she tends to spend a lot of time at my house after school. I don't know what her parents will arrange now. I knock on their front door, dreading my talk with Christie.

"Hi, Mrs. Mason," I said to the blond, brown eyed woman who answered the door.

She was wearing jeans and a tee; regular summer weekend wears on her part. As soon as she said "Hello," she was interrupted by a blur of yellow hair, which rushed past her. Christie grabbed my left arm and pulled me towards their back yard.

"Hi, Jess. Mom, we'll be in the back. Let's go," she chattered quickly. We took our seats on the swing set.

Christy glazed at me, pushed off, saying, "So, what's up? My Mom's been acting weird for the last two days. At first I thought it had to do with camp ending but when you called she looked like we just lost our dog."

I grinned at her, "You don't have a dog."

She nodded and swung higher, "I know that. That's why I said it was weird."

Twirling around repeatedly in the swing not looking at her, I said, "My Mom must have told yours the news." Pausing to take a deep breath, I continued, "We're moving to England."

Silence reigned as she stomped her feet down suddenly, stopping her swing with a jerk. "I don't know what to say. England? I don't want you to go. Do you have to go? Hope you have a good time? Miss you. Write," she ran a hand through her dark, blonde shoulder-length hair.

I stopped the twisting swing, untangled myself and stared at Christie. /Sky blue, chocolate brown, terracotta, jade, dark green, some indigo, and pink are her aura colors. Oh, I'm really going to miss her./

Nodding I told her, "I don't really like the fact I'm going away. Can't change this. My family has to go there. I'm going to miss you. We're like sisters."

"Annoying sisters," she interjected with a sad smile.

Nodding, "Annoying sisters that will always be close no matter what. Ones that'll write constantly and will tie up the computers using email for hours."

She grinned at me, "One that'll write constantly about the yummy guys that are there with their adorable accents and will be sending me pictures and stuff making all the other students jealous."

Rolling my eyes, I hugged her briefly the both of us blinking back tears. "So, we are only two weeks into vacation and I have until the beginning of August before we leave. What do you want to do?"

Christy's shrugged, "Let's go find that dog of mine then I can tease you about those school uniforms you'll be forced to wear."

I ignored her comment about the dog, focusing on what's important. "Uniforms?" I gulped.

"Yeah, I saw them wear them on TV. All the English do. And guess what girls usually wear?" she smiled wickedly. /Do I really want to know?/ Christy told me in two words, "Plaid skirts."

Groaning, I couldn't help but hope that military fatigues might be an acceptable school uniform. Did I mention hating skirts, yet?