Always

There is an awesome series of caches hidden out toward Greenwich which are related to Harry Potter.  The cache owner drew in parallels from the story yet kept it very original.  It was a 7+1 series; you had to solve 7 of them to complete the series with an 8th cache available as a bonus.  SiNwYrM and I found the seven but were unable to get to the 8th cache despite seeing it clear as day in its hiding spot.  Because the series was epic, I felt I had to respond in kind.  The following was written in eight installments, one for each cache in the series.

Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

Firstly, I would like to thank you for your response to my recent inquiry. I have heard plenty of good things about your school from my wizard friends. I believed from a young age that I would be a wizard as well and looked forward to having my hopes confirmed. Many strange things happened around me as a toddler and beyond such as balloons popping randomly near other kids, scaring them half to death, as I stared at the balloons. I stayed up all night before my 11th birthday waiting for the letter to arrive. The grandfather clock down the hall ticked away each second as I absentmindedly held my breath listening for an owl. I waited and I waited and I waited. The sun came up and there wasn’t a peep from the birds outside my window. I cried for hours and my parents did not know why. How could I have been so wrong for so long? Even during my teenage years, as I entered puberty, random things would happen when I was upset or feeling emotionally off-kilter. Footballs imploded, random bursts of winds would blow up girls’ skirts (OK, I‘ll admit I kinda enjoyed that part), books would disappear after just having been set on a table … everything felt so strange but I couldn’t go explain it to my muggle friends.

I think the event that most affected me was when I visited Diagon Alley with some friends of mine. Unlike most muggles in my neighborhood, I was not ignorant of the abilities of certain segments of our citizenry. I was walking past Ollivander’s when I felt a pull. When I went inside, Mr.Ollivander noted a certain attraction between me and a wand (8 inches, hard cedar with hippogriff tail). However, as I was now an adult and having never attended any school of magic or even performed a single magical act intentionally, this made no sense whatsoever. I’m not even a Squib as my parents are muggles. Anyway, I left the store with a nagging sensation that I was missing something very important.

Let’s move ahead to the current day. As you are obviously aware, I sent you a letter last week inquiring whether Hogwarts administrations had ever erred when considering admissions. To be more specific, were any children ever admitted to Hogwarts who turned out to be muggles or were any magical children believed to be muggles ever excluded from Hogwarts. Imagine the surprise when, shortly after sending off my inquiry to you, an owl came down my chimney with a note. It was not a graceful entrance by any means, mind you. I read the note and I was speechless. I held in my hands my acceptance letter to Hogwarts! It was dated March 31, 1987! I must say that your postal delivery rivals ours in efficiency. I regret that, while I definitely need lessons in the art of wizardry, I must decline your invitation as I am much too old now to deal with the dormitory experience compared to the rest of your student body. I do request, however, a visit with the Sorting Hat as I’d like to hire a tutor from an appropriate house. Also, I suggest you please not use Errol to send any further acceptance letters to children. Not unless Professor Trelawney can predict where future students will be 30 years from now.

Most sincerely yours,

Novus Misericordia

Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

Thank you for allowing me to visit with the Sorting Hat. My wife correctly guessed that I would have been placed in Ravenclaw. Based on my luck, I thought Slytherin would have been my lot. I was fortunate enough, however, to meet with a former Ravenclaw professor who was able to catch me up on what I would have learned during my Hogwarts years. I was slightly alarmed by some of the magical creatures I was shown. What IS a nargle, anyway?

As Mrs. Scamander, nee Lovegood, was teaching me how to perform a powerful Patronus spell back in June 2012, I received an owl from Harry Potter. It appears my tutor has been chatting me up amongst her friends and Mr. Potter felt I would benefit greatly from an adventure where I could practice my newly-developed magical skills. He would also be able to take advantage of some free time that had come his wife’s way and take a quiet sojourn away from the hustle and bustle of London. I believe he mentioned Albania.

Now, obviously, I could not disregard this invitation from Mr. Potter; opportunities like this do not pop up in my life, or in most people’s lives, very often. After asking Luna about what I should anticipate from my trip to America (she’s graciously allowed me to call her Luna since our classes were now over). She told me they had funny accents which they were too self-involved to notice themselves, the food would be equal to or better than British cuisine, and the nargle infestation where I was headed was much worse than anything in western Europe.

With that very useful knowledged tucked away in my head, I set off for New York and then for Connecticut. It seemed like a nice place overall until I entered those woods. I have never seen a sky darken so quickly in my life. I wandered off the trail as I am wont to do, particularly so as that is how Luna taught me to find most of her favorite animals and plants. I found myself walking along a brook before reaching the spot where Mr. Potter had indicated I should go. Having heard his story (and, frankly, who hasn’t?), I was able to retrieve another person’s memory. I expected a boring tale with a lesson or pedantic experience … I was dreadfully wrong. The things I saw in that memory are too terrible to recount. I say this with all due respect to you as I know you have seen grotesque events during the two Great Wizarding Wars.

I was stunned and did not know how to proceed. I then thought of Mr. Potter and how he had entrusted me with this task. He must have known what I would encounter and he felt I would be able to follow through and discover whatever it was at the end. I gathered my wits and every ounce of bravery I had in me and sought out a box I noted in the memory.

The trek was quite arduous. I mentally thanked Luna for preparing me for this trip as I bushwhacked through thickets and marshes, over hills and through thick, thorny branches. After several hours, I was exhausted and sat down for a short rest (and perhaps a nap). As I was about to lay my head down, I noted a sparkle nearby. It was a diaphanous rabbit which I quickly determined to be Luna’s patronus! The rabbit darted into a hole and disappeared. I got up with weary legs and made my way over to the hole hoping I wouldn’t be pulled into a strange wonderland with mad hatters and talking caterpillars. Fortunately for me, I found the very box I had been seeking. After wracking my brain trying to recall what I had seen in the memory, I remembered a word I saw on the cover of a spell book tucked away in the corner of a room but slightly askew. On a lark, I tried repeating the word as if it were a spell. After 10 minutes, it finally worked. Magic sure is dependent on stressing the right syllable… The box opened and I realized I had yet more work ahead of me. I sure hope Mr. Potter has assessed my skills adequately…

Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

After reflecting on what my plan of attack should be, I decided to finally get some sleep. I hadn’t realized how tired I was since flying over from London and apparating in Connecticut. I doubt I was awake more than a couple of minutes before I started snoring away in my little cove. It was then that I had the strangest dream. I felt as if I was in an underground chamber of some type. I was being chased by some large snake-like creature and a horned-tail dragon. As I reached a sink, they turned into little trophies spewing blue fire. The fire was cool to the touch, though. When I woke up, I sent my owl, Eponine, to Luna with a note asking her what all this meant. 

I set off for the center of the forest. There was no good reason for me to do so. I merely surmised that if there was some danger or test for me to face, it would be placed there just to make me work for it. I later found this theory to be a good one but … all in due time.

This forest is enormous, by the way. That or it is enchanted in some way to look and feel extremely large. I trudged onward along the meandering trails searching for a sign or a landmark, anything that would give me a clue as to what I should do. I spent days in that forest. I think I did. The sky never changed while I was in there. It was just a dull gray with no change in sunlight or cloud cover. The paranoia began to creep in. I randomly cast “Revelio Hominem”spells whenever I saw the slightest movement in the trees. I almost hit poor Eponine upon her return when she startled me. Luna told me that sometimes a crumple-horned snorkack is just a crumple-horned snorkack. In other words, I would likely have to confront a creature soon and my brain was trying to process that impending danger in advance through my subconscious.

GREAT! I’m being sent into the interminable woods to fight a large creature with just my wand? What is the opposite of confundo because I just don’t get why I got chosen for this. I was mulling over all of the different reasons why I must be despised by some cruel deity when I heard it. What I saw simply can not be described in human words. It was evil and horrifying and large and grotesque and … none of these words are fit to properly describe it. Well, there is one word. Deaf. I was able to move around behind the creature and stay out of its sight. What a silver lining! I then saw a small chest almost directly under the creature. The Accio spell obviously didn’t work; that would be too simple. So I made a run for it and grabbed the box without alerting the creature. Unfortunately, a bird swooped by and directed the beast’s gaze right at me. Hey, did I mention I can’t apparate out of here? I ran. Like a flock of seagulls, I ran so far away but, then again, this forest is enchanted so I may have only moved a few yards. I gambled and yelled out the one word I knew in Parselmouth. The beast stopped. It looked quite confused. Then it came at me again. I guess it doesn’t understand parselmouth. After a few breathless minutes, I was able to find a cave large enough for me to crawl into but too small for the beast to get through. That’s where I spent the next 8 hours. I wa sitting in a small cave plotting my escape from my own self-selected tomb. Oh, to be back in Honeydukes again…

Novus Misericordia

Captain’s Log
Stardate 21114.3

We have traveled back in time to verify the timeline for Earth’s first spaceflight is still intact. Starfleet has received information indicating possible timeline contamination by the Romulans. Currently, we are in orbit over North America, more specifically, the area formerly known as Connecticut in the United States. While the timeline appears to still be as it was, our computer has spotted some anomalies on the planet. Events are occurring across western Europe and the northeastern US which do not seem to be explainable by current scientific conventions. While this confusion may occur when visiting new planets with new technologies, we are all quite dismayed at not being able to explain Terran behavior from 300 years ago. The anomaly seems to be centered over some woodland in southwestern CT. I have assigned Data to monitor this odd behavior and to keep me updated.


Dear Headmistress McGonagall,
Obviously, I have made it out of the cave or you wouldn’t be reading about my adventures. I managed to escape my predicament with the help of one of your great former students. As I sat there in the cave, I thought I saw a glimmer deeper in the cave, as if someone had dematerialized from there. As I saw a ghost-like after-image, I realized I could send a cry for help out. Immediately, I sent out my patronus with a message to Luna. My patronus is a bookworm, by the way. It’s amusing to see a worm travel so quickly. Within minutes, I received a different reply from what I expected. If I recall correctly, Luna’s patronus is a hare. However, what came back was an otter. When the otter spoke, I heard Hermione Granger Weasley’s voice! (I heard her speak at an equal rights for magical creatures rally a few month ago.) It/she simply said, “I’ll take care of this,” and it flew out of the cave. I don’t know what the otter did but, a few moments later, I heard a loud crash and the beast was lying there unconscious. The otter then turned to me and said “’the Essex mock inners’ are great,” before evaporating. At least, that’s what it sounded like. I didn’t hang around to figure out what she said or did, I just got out of there.

I ran for about 10 minutes before looking back and seeing that everything was clear. I found a trail, eager to have some clearance ahead of me even if it was only 4 feet wide. I saw another glint but this time it didn’t belong to a box. I saw a ring hanging from a tree. I didn’t see any tell-tale signs of curses on it although I’m not really adept at noticing such things. The ring seemed quite ordinary, a small, golden circle. But it was precious. My precious. I grabbed the ring and suddenly began feeling very dizzy. I felt myself transported to another part of the forest. It seemed like the same forest given the clouds still hadn’t shifted in hours. That ring was a portkey! Unfortunately, I dropped the ring in the stream at my feet and couldn’t see it in all the mud. The stream was quite deep and wide in several spots. The gurgling of the water seemed to be taunting me as if it was saying I shall not pass. There was a trail on the other side of the stream and, considering I just got teleported here, it must be where I had to go next. Why couldn’t it have dumped me on the other side?!?! 

Exasperated by my new environment, I tried to figure out the quickest and easiest way to cross the stream. Eventually, I decided to hex myself. I pointed my wand back at myself and, after taking a deep breath, cast an Impedimenta spell at myself. That hurt. The blast from my wand hit me square in the chest and threw me across the river with such a force that I almost dropped the wand and I landed against a tree unconscious.

So, are things quiet at Hogwarts? :)

Novus Misericordia

Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

I apologize for not being able to relate this saga of mine in one fell swoop. For medical reasons, I am only allowed to write for a certain amount of time. I could use one of Rita Skeeter’s pens but I’ve heard they’re not quite reliable when you want the truth to come out. While my story may seem quite unbelievable right now, I solemnly swear to only recount the truth.

When I last wrote to you, I told you I had been laying unconscious by a tree after hexing myself. When I woke up, I saw two huge eyes staring at me. I let out a short scream in shock before the creature with the large eyes ran to a tree and starting ramming its head against it. I’d heard what that action meant. I immediately asked the creature to stop beating itself up and what its name was. She said it was Winky. Ron Weasley had asked her to check on me when he heard about my earlier adventures and Hermione’s assistance. After that, she didn’t say much. There was some mumbling about being a free elf and how that just wasn’t right. While she really wasn’t of much help, it was nice to have some company along. 

As we made our way toward what we thought was the center of the woods, we came upon a fork in the road. I told Winky to leave the fork where it was as it would likely be a portkey. However, she gave me a strange look and shouted “CITO!” and grabbed the fork. She disappeared after that. It was indeed a portkey and I was alone again. Figuring her elf magic would protect her more than I ever could, I forged onward hoping she would be okay.

I hopped across a couple of small streams before everything went black. It was as if someone had dropped a large Peruvian floo-powder bomb. I got down on my knees and crawled approximately in the same direction I had been traveling in. I groped for purchase and, after about a couple of miles of skinning my knees and bumping my head on low branches, it suddenly got very bright and my destination was now clear. However, just as things were becoming lucid, it all suddenly flipped upside down. I think I may be sick.


Captain’s Log
Stardate 21122.4

Data has informed me that the man we have been tracking nearly wandered his way toward where we landed. As the people from Earth have not yet discovered warp technology, we felt it was best to redirect the man away from the Enterprise. Unfortunately, we had to somewhat violate the Prime Directive and temporarily blind the gentleman. We then used the tractor beam on a very light setting to repel him away from our location. For now, it seems our observation post was not noticed and we may proceed with our investigation.

Ship’s Log
Stardate 21122.7

Ensign Wesley Crusher here. Lieutenant Commander Data was called away to Engineering to assist Lieutenant Commander LaForge with the antimatter containment field. Data asked me to take over the transporter beam and nudge the human who was being monitored away from our ship. Unfortunately, my hand slipped when I heard my mother enter the room. The power to the beam spiked and the man was sent flying out into a clearing. He seems to be unhurt but he may be dizzy and/or confused for a while. Captain Picard was not pleased with my actions but Mom, er, Doctor Crusher was able to smooth things over. Obviously, Lt. Cmdr. Data has resumed his post.


Dear St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

I am currently in the United States, Connecticut to be exact, and several magical events have occurred which may be impacting my mental and physical wellbeing. So far I have been attacked by a large beast, been catapulted twice, blinded and overall just psychologically beaten by this quest for … I have no idea what for. If I make it out alive, please perform an evaluation on me and let Headmistress McGonagall and Mrs. Scamander the results. They’ll know what to do.

Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

Yes, I did send St. Mungo’s a note regarding my potential admission. Having recently only become a true wizard, I have been through quite an ordeal. True, it’s nothing like what happened to the class of 1999 but nothing will ever be like that ever again. After the most recent event where I was propelled like a projectile, I briefly saw a castle in the middle of the woods. What followed was double vision and, when you’re surrounded by lots of strange trees, having the number of them double is not helpful by any means.

I stumbled along in a general direction. I no longer had any idea where I was headed, as if I had been confunded by three people at once. I was tired and hungry and, worst of all, I hadn’t felt so alone in years. I ate a few berries out of desperation which tasted awful yet it cleared my double vision. Now I could see that I was … still lost. Then I heard a rustling in the trees. I ran toward the noise to see if it was animal I could hunt down for food. After nearly twisting my ankle and crashing through bramble and briar, I found Winky. She was stuttering and sputtering as she pointed to a castle in the distance. I followed her along a small path which seemed to spiral toward the huge structure. Her whimpering was quite distracting, too much so. We were about 200 feet away when I stopped and took a good look at the castle. Something did not seem right. I picked up a sharp rock and I threw it as hard as I could at the walls. Winky let out a shriek as she had not expected my action. The rock ripped a hole through the wall. Yes, the whole thing was fake. It was only a model.

When I turned to look at Winky, she tried to jinx me saying she wanted to turn me into a duck. I ducked as I tried to tell her I was not a witch! I hit her with a stunning spell and she fell over unconscious. I checked for a pulse and determined she wasn’t dead yet. In fact, she was getting much better. After seeing she was only mostly dead, I went through her pockets to look for loose change. After propping her up against a tree and telling her I wouldn’t envy the headache she’d have when she woke up, I headed north. No real reason why, I just felt whatever I was looking for would be due north. I just hope this all ends soon.

Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

As stated before, I apologize for fragmenting my story but St. Mungo's only allows me so much time to write each day. 

I was headed north along a path in the woods when I came upon a strange sight. There was a man in the middle of a glade cackling away and firing hexes at trees. I got behind one of those trees and called out to him. He dove to the ground and began looking to and fro as if he was being pursued. I yelled at him not to worry; I came as a friend. I thought I saw a glimpse of recognition in his visage as he stood up. He then said something which surprised me more than anything else has in these odd environs. He said my name. “Novus, it has been too long, how have you been?” I replied that I’d been fine up until a few days ago. I also asked how he knew my name. “Ahh, yes, you were too young, too young indeed when you last saw me. My name, dear sir, is Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class. Would you like my autograph? I’d have to find a picture first. Haven’t seen many of those around here…” I replied, “No, thank you, sir, that would be quite alright. I need to figure out why I’m here and, while your signature would be a conversation starter elsewhere, it is not likely to help me with my dilemma.”

I’d heard of Mr. Lockhart’s erratic and somewhat unethical past from the various histories of Mr. Potter’s life. Well, those not written by Rita Skeeter anyway. The man looked at me with a very hurt look and asked, “Why do you call me ‘sir?’ Novus, I am your father.” He was my, wait, what? With a huge grin and open arms, he said, “Please, call me Dad!” Well, my response was obvious. (http://youtu.be/cbeR6uYxU50 ) 

He then began to cackle and said he wasn’t really my father. He was only my father’s brother’s nephew’s cousin’s former roommate. When I asked him what that made us, he said nothing. He just stared at the sky. After getting up off the ground from my fetal position, I remembered that Professor Lockhart had been in St. Mungo’s. While I had no idea how he had gotten here, I must have been sent to retrieve him. 

I asked Professor Lockhart for his autograph as a ruse. As he hunted around for a photo, I stunned him with the body-bind curse. Sure, he could no longer move but he was heavy. It was a while before I realized Levicorpus would make things easier. I then had him float through the woods, accidentally bumping his head on various trees, as we made the long walk back. Winky was no longer where I had left her and I didn’t worry about her a bit. She needed to go to St. Mungo’s as well but someone else can come to collect her. Once I made it out of the woods, I apparated to an airport in NY (with Prof. Lockhart in the luggage area). Shortly thereafter, we were back in London and at St. Mungo’s.

I forgot about the letter. After expressing their thanks for returning the professor, they shoved me into an exam room. After being poked and prodded by items I’d rather not recall, I was visited by Mr. Potter himself! He apologized for all of the extra hassle; he’d expected it to go rather easily. The goal really was just to bring back the professor as he was in his current state somewhat indirectly due to Harry. Harry and Ron tended to keep an eye on him ever since.

Having survived that infernal forest, Harry offered me a position in the MoM in either the Portkey Office or the Floo Network Authority. I have yet to decide. For now, I must wait out my time here in observation. While the travails I encountered in that forest aren’t exactly pleasant, it is good to know that there are many people out there who will help me even if I haven’t met them. I believe this sense of family was fostered at your school and for that I commend you. But, please, don’t use Errol as a messenger ever again.

Novus Misercordia

Epilogue: 
Captain's Log
Stardate 21135.9

We have observed this human for over a week and have determined the timeline has indeed been tampered with. Certain Terrans have gained an ability to teleport across short distances and have developed a rudimentary replicator technology. However, they have not developed warp technology. Weather control has been established as well as contact with creatures which did not evolve naturally on this planet. While the humans' lives have been altered by the introduction to advanced technology, it does appear as if the mischief has been managed. We'll have to report all of this back to Starfleet. But first, we have to rendezvous with Captains Sisko and Janeway over at Deep Space Nine. In the meantime, I'll get back to my new hobby, embroidery. Unfortunately, one of the machines I tend to favor has gone into disrepair. I have not figured out how to make it sew.