caged mods. (cagedmods) wrote in caged, @ 2013-08-18 22:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 97-08, [ wizard's heritage ] |
WIZARD'S HERITAGE: August 19th, 1997
By Theseus Travers 19th August 1997 | |
My mother claims that I was the youngest of her children to display signs of magic. She tells the story, not with joy like most parents, but with a forlorn look. I was thirteen months old, and demanding apples for dinner rather than peas. When she insisted on peas, a jar of baby food -- apples, came soaring from a cabinet and hit her in the head. Like any parent, any pain or annoyance was overcome by joy. She had a healthy, happy, magical child. I can remember my unrestrained feats of childhood magic. Summoning objects to me, making flowers bloom in winter, exploding vases in fits of anger. My older brother and sister went on to Hogwarts, and I was eager to follow them. I was certain I'd be Sorted into Slytherin, like the rest of my family, but thought I wouldn't mind Ravenclaw, as I had a fondness for books. Aeschylus and Pelagia, my siblings, regaled me of tales of the school, and all the things that I would do there. I eagerly awaited my invitation to the school. But I was never to go to Hogwarts. On a fine summer's day, our entire family was headed for an outing to Diagon Alley, to buy my siblings' school things. Our Floo grate was down that summer, due to shortages in that office at the time and an experiment of my brother Aeschylus's that went awry, and we were forced to travel on the Knight Bus. Ordinarily, my family never would have forayed into Muggle London, but circumstances required it. We stepped off the purple bus and onto the crowded Muggle street. I thought how strange all these creatures looked, with their odd clothes, going about their business in metal contraptions, none of them carrying wands. My dear mother was ushering us into the Leaky Cauldron when a Muggle boy, about my age, ran up to me. I had been taught to steer clear of Muggles, but I was a curious child, and when a Muggle boy ran up to me, I didn't turn away. He grabbed onto my hand. |
The pain was excruciating. I felt as though every nerve in my body was on fire, as though as he was sucking the marrow from my very bones. I let out a scream of terror and agony -- this was why I should fear Muggles. My parents both rushed to my aid, and the boy ran away. My father attempted to pursue him and bring him to justice, to find out what he had done to his son, but he hopped into an ottoman and sped away. I was ten years old. When I was first brought to St Mungo's, the Healers could find nothing wrong with me, but I could feel that something had changed. I felt as though someone had stolen my skin and was walking around in it. I became despondent, immersing myself entirely in my books and rarely going outside to play Quidditch with my brother. The summer I turned eleven passed without an invitation to Hogwarts. My parents, shocked and horrified that their most promising child had been overlooked, contacted Headmaster Dippet, but his answer was devastating and final: I had no invitation to Hogwarts because I was a Squib. I spent most of my adolescence in and out of St Mungo's, visiting specialists, and trying to find answers. But I knew that Muggle boy had stolen my magic and my place in the greatest school on earth. An attempt at Kwikspell's renowned course showed no results. I have been forced to live my life as an outcast, not part of the magical world, but unable to go to the Muggle world. I am unmarried -- seen as tainted and ineligible. I will never have a wife or hold a child of my own in my arms. During the most difficult periods of my life, I have wondered if it is worth living at all, but the love of my family, who have been supportive and open-minded towards me my whole life, has seen me through. I do not know if it is possible to regain what I lost. But the Muggle-born Registration Commission gives me hope that the villain who stole my magic and my life will get his just desserts. |