Year V

Chapter Ten

Dear Mom and Dad...

"But I'm a Creep, I'm a weirdo...

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here...

I don't belong here..."

-"Creep" by Radiohead

Jesse sat down at the desk and looked around at the small room he was in. He almost wanted to throw up because the room was unnaturally clean. He was informed that the room's previous occupant was, as Fred and George Weasley had put it, an uptight prick. They didn't tell him much else, but from the way Mrs. Weasley would start to sob and the way Mr. Weasley would flinch, it sounded like Percy Weasley was a total jerk. And from the way the room was organized, it appeared to Jesse that Percy Weasley was one of those annoying "ambitious snob" types who excelled in school and looked down on others because he was going places and they weren't.

They had arrived at the Burrow the night before and from the way the place looked, Jesse got the impression that no one had been there for at least a month. He heard the others mumble that they were happy to be back here and away from some crazed house-elf. When Jesse asked them what they were talking about, they all fell silent. At one point, Jesse tried to get some more information from Fred and George, but all they could do was shrug and say, "Sorry, Jess. We can't tell you."

The Weasleys struck Jesse as one of the "poorer" Wizard families, but he didn't care too much, their place was cool. It was like stepping into one of those places in one of those cool surrealistic paintings...the only thing missing were upside-down staircases. They had spent much of the first day back cleaning up the place and seeing how far they could toss garden gnomes. At the end of the day, Jesse decided it was time to write a letter to his parents and let them know how things were. He was certain they heard what happened at Diagon Alley and it bothered him a little that his parents didn't even bother trying to check up on him...but then again, given his parents line of work, that was expected. His parents were probably trapped in some ancient tomb or building somewhere, trying to decipher some ancient runes or text. What angered Jesse more was the fact that he'd usually be there with them.

But instead, he was here, back in "jolly ol' England". He shook his head as he pulled a small case out of his footlocker and opened it. A "Quick-Quotes" quill jumped out of the case and hovered over a piece of parchment on the desk. Well, he thought, where to begin?

Dear Mom and Dad,

Hi, how's it going? I'm sorry if this letter is a little sloppy, it's the first time I've used a Quick-Quotes quill so I'm not quite sure how this letter will turn out. Today, this letter comes from the home of the Weasley family, or as some people like to refer to it...the Burrow. It's actually a pretty cool place. Sure, it's not like the house in 'Cisco or the chalet at Whistler, but it's got some cool things going for it.

The family's not too bad either, although I sometimes wonder if Mrs. Weasley has a schizophrenic personality. She's one of those mothers who has no problem taking in strangers and has a big heart. On the other hand, you piss her off and you'll be running for the hills. Joscoe took Ginny (she's the only daughter in the family) on a little jaunt across the world in his quest for breakfast...or was it lunch? Dinner maybe? Hard to tell with all the damn time zones around the world. But anyway, Joscoe and Ginny did a little globe-hopping and Mrs. Weasley was very close to burying me in the back yard somewhere. However, despite the fact that she's a little mental, she's still a good person...I think.

"Oy, Jesse."

Jesse looked up to see Fred and George enter the room. Fred was holding Joscoe and scratching the calico behind the ears while George was carrying what appeared to be three or four stacks of paper. "Um, hey, what's up?"

"You were right, mate," said Fred as he set Joscoe down on the ground. "That Muggle photocopy place you told us about was worth it. We've never been to one, let alone one in America."

George opened one of the stacks and handed Jesse a sheet of paper. "Three thousand copies in under an hour, and it didn't even cost us 20 Galleons. Saves us the trouble of having to individually work these up." He looked over Jesse shoulder at the parchment. "What are you doing?"

"Not much, just writing a letter to home."

Fred and George Weasley just showed up. They're twin brothers who have embarked on a business venture. They're pretty cool too...hey, guys, wanna' say something?

-Hi Mum, hi Dad.-

~Your son's no good.~

That's Fred and George...oh by the way, they're the ones that made the toffee candies I sent with this letter. I hope you have tons of fun with them. They've invented a whole bunch of cool stuff they intend to sell at school...no, they're not dealing drugs.

"Hey, Jess," said Fred as he pulled Jesse's CD player out of his footlocker. "Is this one of those Muggle disc player things?"

"Hey, careful with that," said Jesse. "I only got it working last week. Finally got it to run without batteries."

Fred looked the disc-player over and nodded in approval. "Cool," he said as he handed the disc-player to George. "What else you got? Oh, 'ello...this looks interesting." Fred pulled out what appeared to be a small mirror-ball that was the size of a golf-ball.

"Whoa, you don't want to mess with that," said Jesse as he started reach for the small object, then he stopped and smiled at the matching curious looks on the twins' faces. "Oh, go ahead, Fred. Give it a light squeeze and open your hand so it rests in your palm."

Fred squeezed the small glass ball once then looked at it. "Um...okay now wha-"

He was cut off as a blinding flash of yellow light shot out of the small glass ball. When his vision cleared a moment later, the ball had vanished and he found himself sitting in the room surrounded by ten other Fred Weasleys facing several different directions. "Whoa...cool," he said.

"Whoa...cool," said the other Fred Weasleys.

"This is amazing," said George.

"I'll say it is," said Fred as he stood up. The others did the same and mimicked his every move. As he started to walk, the others walked off in different directions. One of the duplicates walked right through the desk in front of Jesse. Fred stopped moving and turned to see that duplicate's upper body sticking up out of the desk like a ghost. A few of the other duplicates walked through the walls.

"What is it? Some sort of visual charm?" asked George.

"Something like that," replied Jesse as he reached down into his footlocker, pulled out another mirror-ball and tossed it to George. "I was always good at illusions...they're kind of a hobby of mine."

The images of Fred Weasley suddenly flickered for a moment, then vanished all at once. The twins looked at him and he shrugged. "Yeah, they only last for about thirty seconds. I can probably get it up to a minute, but I haven't worked on it lately."

Fred and George glanced at each other for a moment, then looked back to Jesse, both of their faces wearing evil grins. "Oh...I don't know Jesse," said George. "We think thirty seconds should be enough."

Fred nodded. "Oh yeah. So...Jesse...have you found a market for these?"

Yep...Fred and George, magical entrepreneurs, businessmen, and almighty masters of mayhem. You know, I might have regretted returning to England at first, but I think I might enjoy it here if I can make a little profit. Um...hold on a second...need to get out of the room. Fred and George just discovered one of my musical howlers and it's hard to write a letter while listening to all the noise of a Pink Floyd concert.

Jesse made his way downstairs to the living room and sat down in a chair. He placed the parchment and quill on a small table and cleared his throat before he started.

Well, I'm here in the Weasley living room...kind of a rustic looking place with some awesome stuff in it. Heh...the clock looks cool...according to it, Fred and George are in trouble. Yep, there goes Mrs. Weasley screaming at them to cut the racket. I wonder if I should tell her that the music's going to keep going until the end of concert...that's a good two and a half hours of The Wall. Hmmm...someone left their wand down here...I wonder how well it works.

Accio Qu-what the hell? It just turned into a rubber chicken...must be one of Fred and George's creations. Well, I guess they won't be needing it, they got plenty. Besides, they'll probably take it out of my share of the profits, they won't miss this one if I take it...

Anyhow, moving on. In addition to Fred, George, and Ginny, I've also met their brother Ron...yes, they have a huge family. A note, should we ever invite the entire Weasley clan over and take them out to dinner, we might have to book a banquet hall. Anyway, back to Ron Weasley, the guy's a certified (and maybe certifiable) Yank-Hater. Ever since I arrived, he's been on my case and gone out of his way to make me feel unwelcome. He finally shut up after I used a time-slowing spell...but he still doesn't like me much. No big deal, the feeling's pretty much mutual, but we can tolerate each other. I also heard he made Prefect at his school, which means he'll probably be hitting me with demerits every five minutes...until I stuff him into the nearest garbage bin.

Next up, Hermione Granger. Okay, what is there to say about Hermione Granger? She's one of those students who knows all the answers to everything and it wouldn't surprise me if she's already read through our school books and has each chapter summarized on 3x5 index cards. I made the mistake of asking her about Hogwarts and the others suddenly groaned and ran away...and now I know why. I think my eyes are still glazed over from hearing her lecture me on 1000 years of school history. Although lately, she's been asking me a bunch of questions about American Wizarding Society...as if I'm a reliable source since you kind of kept me isolated from the Colonial community most of my life. I think she's a little suspicious of me because I used a Guilder's spell. Oh yeah...Mom, the Tardoante spell kicked ass, thanks for teaching me. Anyway, Granger's been hitting me with a bunch of questions and she seemed surprised when I started talking about the Colonials, the Shamanics, and the Guilds...it's like she didn't know what I was talking about. I guess they don't teach about the Guilds or the Shamanics over here...they didn't at Marneons and I guess they don't at Hogwarts. They only study the Colonials, which would explain why people like Ron think all of us Yanks are pompous and arrogant jerks...

Sorry, Dad...I keep forgetting that's where you came from, but I guess you don't mind too much since Grandpa kicked you out of the family and would probably like to see me killed because I'm a "half-bred" freak of nature...damn, great...there I go on my self-pity track. Where's some damn violin music when you need it?

Speaking of being a freak of nature, guess who else I met? The so called famous "Boy Who Lived" himself, Harry Potter. Yep, he's here at the merry old Weasley household as well, I guess he's been a friend of the family for the last five years. Which is probably a good thing, since I heard that the relatives that raised him for most of his life sound like they deserve a severe beating. I know that he's really nothing more than a name back home, but here in England, he's got quite a reputation...a reputation, I understand, that's been taking a severe hit lately. The Daily Prophet's been having a field day dragging his name through the mud, alongside Albus Dumbledore who the Prophet describes as being an old and burned out mental case. But you know what, I have to give Harry credit, he's pretty stable for someone who's adored and hated by the public at the same time. To be honest, I probably would have snapped under the pressure and killed someone by now...okay, maybe not kill...but definitely maim. As it is, Harry's cool, but I sometimes wonder what kind of demons he's got tearing up inside him. Maybe it's because I've got my own set of problems and I can recognize the signs, but you can see it in his eyes that there's some really bad shit going on up there and it's only a matter of time before it explodes. And knowing my luck, I'll probably be at ground zero when it happens.

Heh...go figure...I always seem to be right there when things go "Boom!" Of course, most of it was my fault to begin with, but this time around I don't think I'll be primary cause. We already survived an attack on Diagon Alley, what next? Yeah, I know I shouldn't make light of the situation, but it's kind of hard to be all "doom and gloom" when you live with the concept most of your life, right? Jeez, there I go again...back on the whole self-pity track. I know it's not healthy, especially for my condition, but dammit, I wish I could just walk away and leave this all behind. But I guess that's not possible...thank you very much, Lucius Malfoy.

Oh yeah...just so you know, I saw Goldilocks the other day and Mr. Weasley filled me in on why I was here. Now as much as I'd like to see the bastard tied to an anthill and be eaten alive, I wish you two had filled me in. It was very tempting to just burn the prick right down there in the street, but then I'd be charged with murder...sentenced to Azkaban...oh wait, I'm an Elemental...they'd just skip the sentencing and probably execute me on the spot.

Oh woe is me...Yeah, right. Okay, self-pity is highly overrated and boring.

So moving on, it seems that Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and all around Big-Kahuna (did I mention the Daily Prophet questions his sanity?) thought it would be a cool idea to have me come over and dig a skeleton out of Lucius Malfoy's closet. Well, to be honest, I'm not too sure if that's a good idea or not. Sure, I want to see Malfoy pay for what he did to us, but I'd like to live the rest of my life, thank you very much.

You'll probably think I'm gutless for even thinking it, but I seriously considered taking the way out when it was offered. I was so tempted to say "Screw you all", take my cat, and get the hell out of town. It would have been so easy...but I couldn't do it. Maybe it was because I gave my word...nah...no way...even I don't buy that one...

Jesse stopped for a moment as the memory of that night flashed through his brain. He flinched as he remembered the pain...that burning/twisting pain that felt like he was being flayed alive...that smug grin on Lucius Malfoy's face as he said that same word over and over.

"CRUCIO!"

"That's enough." Jesse closed his eyes, forcefully willing the memory away. He could also feel the power start to stir within...wanting to be released, wanting to strike out. "It's just a memory," he said to himself. Around the house, several candles and lamps suddenly ignited, as did the fireplace in the kitchen.

"Blimey!"

"What the-"

"Cool..."

Thinking quickly, Jesse pulled his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it at one of the lit candles just as Mrs, Weasley, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Ron entered the room. "Oh, sorry," he said as he put his wand away. "It was getting dark, and I tried to light it with my wand and I guess I got a little carried away."

"Carried away," Mrs. Weasley muttered as she headed back off to the kitchen. "Children today...I swear they get more reckless every year." Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed her out, but Hermione gave Jesse a suspicious look as she left the room.

Jesse turned back to the table to continue with his letter.

Sorry about that, drifted off there for a second-

"You're lying," he heard someone say softly. Jesse looked up to see Ginny Weasley standing there, he had assumed she had left with the others and didn't notice she stayed in the room.

"Lying?" he repeated. "About what?"

Ginny gave him a small smile, although he also noticed the sad look in her eyes when she spoke. "You got carried away, alright. But it wasn't a spell gone awry."

Don't panic, Jesse told himself, the last thing he needed was his eyes to start shifting color. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and was able to force a smug grin on his face. "Oh...really? And what do you think it was?"

Ginny shrugged as she sat down on the other side of the table. "I don't know, but I find it interesting that everything suddenly ignited all at once, just like they did in your room at the Leaky Cauldron the other night. You were unconscious, but you kept mumbling about making the pain stop. All the candles and lamps in your room did the same thing, igniting all at once." She gave him a sidelong glance. "And I don't think it was a coincidence. Then again, I don't believe that it is coincidence that you're here at all."

Jesse studied her for a moment before he spoke. Even though Ginny seemed suspicious, which he couldn't blame her, she didn't come across as being angry or rude about it. He was about to say something, but she beat him to it.

"Ron's right, you know. It is kind of suspicious that you showed up out of nowhere."

Jesse laughed, an actual honest laugh...it actually felt good for a change instead being forced. "Yeah, I guess it is kind of suspicious." He leaned forward and lowered his voice slightly. "Believe it or not, I've been asking myself the same question: why the hell is this American Git really here in England?"

"And do you have an answer to that question?"

"Maybe, but lying comes easy for me." Jesse sighed as he leaned back in his chair again and gave her a sad smile. "But if you want an honest answer, I don't think I could give it to you, because I don't even know it...and that's the truth." He paused as he noticed her staring at him again. "What?"

She shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing. I just find it interesting how you act...it's like you slip into this role of, as you put it, the American Git whenever you're dealing with other people. But it's all an act, isn't it?"

Jesse shrugged. "Part of the time. But then again, that's what people like Ron want to see, isn't it? A pompous American wizard with sub-par abilities. It's kind of a kick when they actually buy it and underestimate me."

"But it also isolates you from everyone else, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," said Jesse. "I suppose it does."

"So...who am I talking to now? Obviously not the American Git you pretend to be."

"No," Jesse chuckled. "Not the American Git. I guess I'm too tired to be my usual obnoxious self."

"I don't know," said Ginny. "I think you're a lot more likable without the mask." She gave him another smile and then left the room.

Jesse sat there for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. The conversation brought up a question he'd been asking himself for the last couple years since he had been kicked out of Salem Centre. Who was he? Ever since his first year, he adopted a smart-ass facade to hide behind, but that was never his true self, and only those closest to him knew it. Unfortunately, that circle of friends only counted two or three people outside of his parents. Maybe Ginny was right, maybe he should drop the mask he'd been hiding behind...or had he pretended too much that the mask was now a part of him? And how could he separate the two?

"Okay," he said with a laugh that sounded forced. "Now we're getting too meta-physical here."

He turned his attention back to the quill hovering over the parchment and cleared his throat before he finished off his letter.

Anyhow...where was I? Oh yeah...I guess we're going to be kicking it here for a couple weeks before we head off to London and then it's off to Hell-er...I mean Hogwarts. Uh-oh, I better make sure Granger the living Encyclopedia doesn't hear that or I'll once again be hearing "Hogwarts, a History" word-for-word. Hmm...Mrs. Weasley's yelling again, sounds like Fred and George discovered the Ozzy Osbourne Howlers. Yep...that's definitely "No More Tears" playing in the background. Well, anyway, I hope you two are okay, wherever you are. And when you do make it back home, promise me you'll at least try to make some effort to get me outta' here!

Yeah, I know...I promised I'd do this, and like I said earlier, the possibility of making Lucius Malfoy suffer for what he did to me kind of offsets the danger factor. But I think I'd feel a lot better if I were in someplace like Vegas...or Monte Carlo...hell, I'd even settle for Montreal.

Oh well, as the old song goes, you can't always get what you want...

Hope to hear from you soon.

Love,

Jesse...your ONE and ONLY son who you've abandoned to complete strangers.

Jesse smiled as the quill finished off the letter. But the smile faded as he read the last bit of his letter and remembered the conversation he had with Ginny.

"I just find it interesting how you act," she had said. "It's like you slip into this role of, as you put it, the American Git whenever you're dealing with other people. But it's all an act, isn't it?"

She was right, Jesse realized, he did slip into the role of being a smart-ass very easily. Were his fears coming true? Was he having a hard time separating himself from the mask he wore?

"Yeah, right," he muttered as he rolled up the parchment and prepared to send it off, shoving his mental demons back to the furthest corners of his mind. "As if I need to add schizophrenia to my list of problems."