We can inhabit an address for years, coming and going without a thought to the hallways we pass through each day. And then, suddenly, it’s time for an unexpected move. You don’t consider your feelings for the home as you rush around, as you box up, and plan. But then moving day comes, and you see the closets, the barren corners, and the memories hit you.
The feelings can overwhelm you as you realize you may never be able to return to this dwelling again. You’ll have memories, but it would be nice to cement them so you can easily inhabit a moment from the past when life’s storms force you to look back for comfort.
I recently had to leave a home. I imagined ghosts, past versions of myself, and others still wandering the rooms. It was hard to leave, but I did take a few final steps before I locked the door behind me. It’s a method I’ve used often, gleaned from the Harry Potter books and movies.
The Good Horcruxes in Our Homes
The idea relies on a spell I learned from Voldemort. He’s the Dark Wizard who had several disagreements with that Harry Potter kid. “He Who Shall Not Be Named” (Voldemort) knew there were lots of folks who wanted to kill him, so he came up with a plan.
He started leaving parts of himself in mostly desolate, forgotten places. These shards of Voldemort were known as Horcruxes, and as long as they existed, Voldemort couldn’t be taken out.
The idea was that you couldn’t completely kill him unless you first destroyed these objects. He tied the Horcruxes to random items like an amulet or a journal, and he placed them in spots that would be hard to find. Memories of Voldy that had to expire before the real dude could be vanquished.
Dark magic to be sure, but through alchemy and conjuration, I’ve learned that Horcruxes and their memory GPS can be used for good. We can leave them behind in places and use them as a keystone to make a stronger memory, and a waypoint to help us return to a place in our minds.
If Voldemort could leave a part of himself in an isolated cave, perhaps we can leave a part of ourselves in the houses, condos, and mobile homes we have to say goodbye to. I’ve found it to be a comfort, probably mostly imaginary, but a good way to teach the brain to maintain a path back to a special place.
A house becomes a friend. It’s a sanctuary. You must mark those times when a house was your refuge while you concealed a secret pain from the outside world. Protecting you until you were stronger.
My Horcrux Left at My Old Home
This recurring idea hit me again while I was cleaning out the last of the junk in my attic and feeling melancholy. It’s a place I rarely went while living at this address, but it was always there, above for everything that happened in the rooms below.
I found a small Christmas ornament that had fallen from a box at some point. And I had an idea.
I took the ornament and tossed it through the stagnant air, into the dark recesses of the attic. Perhaps the still, unventilated air, flecked with dust particles, holds memories all the better.
The ornament may hold no magical powers, but it’s a marker for my brain. I’ll always know where that totem resides. It’s unlikely to ever be seen by a human again, or removed.
My own path back to an important setting for my story, where my shadows yet reside.
I wrote about why ghosts can sometimes be comforting while ghosthunting in Savannah.
The Memories Hidden in the Walls
We must also allow ourselves some tears or some contemplation when leaving a residence, even if it wasn’t the happiest of homes.
Moving is such a massive operation that it’s hard to take the time we need to process such a change. We can think only of the logistics and have our sadness collapse on us later, without warning.
We also may not realize the feelings unpacked as we go through all of our possessions and decide what gets tossed aside and what travels with us. We’ll see old photos from past homes.
We can remember the pets who lived, served, and died in the home. We can remember the visits from loved ones and friends. The nights we curled up in a forgotten corner to escape the world outside. Our castle of defense.
You’ll need to unpack your gear in a new place, but leave time to unpack your emotions too. Place horcruxes on the shelves in your new rooms to serve as visual floo powder to take you back to a moment.
I’ve written about this Voldemort memory trick before.
I’ve even written about leaving horcruxes in Disney World if you’re that kind of person.