Journey Into the Mind of A Madman...

Journal Entry 1: Flashback--

Alester sat in his bedroom with the door tightly shut and the shades drawn. He had the Grimoire opened on his desk and was staring at a particularly complex charm. It fascinated him that he was able to align the pieces for a charm as precise as this, yet he could only complete a successful potion one third of the time. He began to trace symbols with his wand in the air around him as he thought, a careless move on his part as he absentmindedly was using the symbols from the spell he had just been memorizing without really noticing. A commotion from two floors below him finally pulled him from his reverie; loud sounds which were extremely unusual in the decidedly placid domicile he cohabited with his parents. He called out to his mother who should have been just down the stairwell and one floor beneath him; but his voice reverberated around him like it had hit an invisible barrier it could not break through.

Surprised he stood and crossed to his door; there was nothing noticable to inhibit his progress and he continued down the stairs towards his mother's favorite room, the library. As he crossed the threshhold he noticed she wasn't in her usual station on the settee with a good book or napping, or alternately watching his father as he read to her or they just conversed. Concerned Alester called out again only to have his voice rebound once more. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to figure out what was preventing his voice from passing further than three feet in front of him; furthermore why it was bouncing back as if hitting a barrier of some sort.

Silvery eyes shimmered as he recalled the charm he had been studying; a sonorus barrier. He immediately understood that he must have cast it when he was absentmindedly tracing shapes in his reverie as he was in the habit of doing. He could pass through the house without making a sound; and somethign was not quite right int he house tonight. He listened carefully, the barrier was supposed to be one way, shielding only the sounds he was making and not anything outside of his perimeter, which apparently moved with him.

He made his way cautiously down the hall checking each room and finding nothing out of the ordinary save for the absence of his parents. It wasn't until he reached the landing to the main floor that he began to notice what was out of place in their resolutely tidy home; the main foyer was littered with papers and his mother's fresh cut flowers which usually resided on the half moon table just inside and between the main doors were strewn across the floor. He slipped down the last few stairs and saw the figure of his mother supine across the cold marble floor, her typically pale skin almost the same shade as the floor upon which she was sprawled. There was no blood or evdence of trauma; not until he cautiously approached her unconscious figure. He could see her chest moving in the erratic breathing of her shock; but in his line of sight beyond her form was another figure, the strongest man Alester had ever known, and he lay face down across his leather couch. The study had been defiled, paintings were smashed where they had evidently been torn from their longstanding positions on the walls and thrown across the room, more papers still fluttered to the floor, and the beautiful blackthorn desk was busted open and the rolltop shattered and laying akilter across the front.

Alester approached his father and stooped to touch his arm knowing already from the unnatural position of his body that he was beyond the realm of Alester's reach. He turned the lifeless form and saw the face of death his father wore. Teeth clenched in anger and jaw set firm in resolution to avenge the unforgivable death of his father Alester Thoth Crowley moved from his father's sanctuary, his study office. He stopped only to scoop up the inert form of his mother and carry her up the flight of stairs to her bed where he lay her gently and kissed her cheek. He continued to his rooms, and there he remained for three days until the Ministry darkened his doorway asking questions and offering nothing in return. No names, no logical reason why his father had been murdered, not even any consolation or comfort. Not that Alester needed any of these things. He knew why, and he knew that he would never rest until he found out who and made retribution; life for a life.

They only broke through his self imposed silence when they demanded he report to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to proceed with final testing and to complete his last year of education. They cited his father's ranking as an instructor of good standing as credential, but alluded they needed "formal record of his proficiencies if he ever desired to find gainful employment in the future." He did not thake the threat lightly, nor without seeing it for the truth. They wanted the knowledge he had as certainly as whomever had killed his father. Too bad they were too late, Alester had already sealed the knowledge away where only a secret keeper could unlock it; and he was his own secret keeper. So he now submitted himself to Hogwarts for the purpose of continueing his education...and learning what he could of the plans for the Grimoire and Tarot he had been keeper of since he was eleven. Why it was wanted, and who wanted it... and what made it worth killing for. This was his secret quest in this year, and to forge alliances which would serve him in his future.