Perhaps, I am one of the most boring girls you'll ever have the displeasure of meeting. I am an awkward person, who has only ever excelled in studying and knows absolutely nothing about socializing or the traditions of her father's country.
My father is Jacob Al-Muhattim, an Arabic man. My mother is Hanako Toshiyuki, a Japanese woman. They met when both of them were vacationing in Germany and got married two years later and two years after, on the 29th of December, 1981, my mother gave birth to me; the terrible horror. With eyes as wide as saucers and cheeks as red as a tomato I was a victim of constant bullying from my aunts; my cheeks has never been the same since. They still do it, too; apparently me not growing old quickly makes them happy, because it means they have the right to pinch my tomato cheeks.
It's unfair; I have two younger brothers and three sisters, and their cheeks remained intact, while my own remained rosy due to their abusive pinches. To top it off, my nickname is Tomato. I hate my life.
At any rate, this story isn't about how I grew up to be an uninteresting person, but rather, a reminder for myself; to remember who I am, who my friends are and whom I should fight against.
It was on the twenty fourth of July of the year nineteen ninety two, that I had received that letter. The letter that informed me I was accepted into a school of magic, something I would have dismissed as a sham if the letter wasn't delivered by that deranged ministry worker who destroyed my life. Or had she saved it? Started it for real? I fear I shall never know.
We were spending the summer in our house in London, Fairview Hall, when it happened, and to this day, where nearly ten years have passed since that day I still remember the name of the shocking ministry official that ruined my life. Though maybe, she had given me a chance to live another, far more magical life. A destined life.
Most Muggle-borns or Half-Bloods like me, who were raised without the knowledge of their magic, had a professor bring in their letters, but not me. After all, my grandmother is the Great Witch Who Disappeared – Sophia Aldea, or as I knew her; Toshiyuki Sophia, my grandfather's wife.
People wanted to meet the Head of the Most Powerful and Noble House of Aldea, and her 'heir' considering the fact they are both women and the last of the line. The political power they could gain from associating with them was numberless. This Ministry official went by the name…
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"Kali Babblewinks, madam. Please allow me to inform you that your granddaughter, Ms. Faye J. Aldea has been accepted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
My parents and I stared at the woman as though she had gone barmy. She probably was; after all, my first impression on the woman was that she was batty and nasty.
She looked like she belonged in a mental asylum, anyhow; her face was made of folded wrinkles, and I could barely see those tiny blue eyes, and while her mouth was painted in a nice shade of red, there were lipstick smears near her lips, a sign that her hands had shook while she applied the lipstick.
I thought it would be wise to call the asylum, but then my grandmother started to happily serve tea and cookies. This made us look at her as though she had lost her mind.
Maybe she did, and we just didn't know it. After that, my father stood up and demanded an explanation, but then, my grandfather, Toshiyuki Masamune appeared behind my father and patted him on the back, leading him away from both my grandma and I to 'explain' some stuff to him.
Now, instead of three sets of eyes there were two staring at grandma incredulously. As though she had sensed our pointed gazes, my grandmother bid the crazy lady goodbye politely, never mind the fact it was done hastily.
Kali Babblewinks looked reluctant but she finally left, not without leaving those words behind, though: "I was also told to inform you that if Ms. Aldea doesn't attend Hogwarts, or any other magical school to complete her required education, she will be taken away from your custody to become the ministry's ward."
"Oh, they'd love that, won't they?" asked my grandmother in a drawl with a dangerous look on her face that I had never seen before.
The batty lady made a hasty goodbye before she scrambled out, her short legs carrying her faster than I thought out of our summer home. And then, there was a crack.
Despite my younger siblings' claim that I was a cruel and violent person, I liked to think myself as a nice, polite, respectable young lady with a very short fuse. So, being the nice, polite, respectable young lady that I was I had decided to check on the mental asylum's escapee worrying that she might've cracked her neck, or something.
Only to discover the fact nobody was there. There was no sound of the motor starting, so there couldn't have been a car there, and the bus wasn't set to come around this area for another half an hour and there was no taxi when the woman came; I should know, I checked.
My eyes widened as I opened the window and stuck my head out of the window I just opened, looking right and left and there was nobody walking around.
A wrinkly hand patted my shoulders. I looked up, and was met with my grandmother's sad smile. "You won't find her honey; she apparated."
"App-reeted?"
"No, Apparated, dear. It means she disappeared from one place and appeared into another, magically."
I started to protest. "But there's no such thing as magic!"
She shook her head, and guided me with her hand on my shoulder to sit next to my mother. "Just because you're ignorant, doesn't mean it doesn't exist," she said, as she sat down on the opposite seat, the place Kali was sitting before.
"My family, the Aldeas were –are, a family of wizards and witches. Each and every single one of us was a either a witch or wizard, but you Hanako, you were the first person to break that rule."
My mother's eyebrows joined together at that. "What?" She asked, confused. I understand how that feels; I don't understand what my grandmother's saying at the moment, either.
"Your father, Hanako, also comes from a very prestigious magical family, too. Our marriage, as you know had been arranged since before we were born. I can't express my happiness enough, though when I learnt you were born without magic. A squib, some would call you."
"What?" Both of us said together. My mother, though seemed to have gotten enough of this and jumped up to her feet. "Stop this already! There is no such thing as magic!" She spat out the word as though it was a curse.
Suddenly, mother's favorite tea table caught on fire, my mother screamed. I screamed. My grandmother calmly sipped her tea, not bothered by the sight of flames licking the table in front of her.
I ran to get the flame extinguisher from the kitchen, and when I came back, the flames suddenly died out, and the table –and the tea set that was on it – looked unharmed. I dropped the red metal container, and instead of it cluttering uselessly on the floor, it floated right back into its original place under the kitchen sink.
My grandmother smiled as she took another sip of her tea. My mother, who had a stricken look upon her face, dropped onto the couch. "Okay," She said weakly. "Magic exists."
I poured a glass of water for my mother and handed it to her. My actions were automatic, a natural response to seeing my mother distressed. I still couldn't wrap my mind around this whole magic thingy, but it did explain a few things.
How my hated math teacher's entire grading book caught on fire suddenly, how the bullies at my school always got caught when a teacher came out of nowhere, how time seemed to flow slower and sometimes even pause when I concentrated hard enough, and how that one bully fell of the stairs when I wished…
No, I told myself firmly. I won't go there. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault, it was the bully's fault.
But magic existed, and I could apparently wield it.
A lump rose up my throat. I coughed, trying to clear it. "Why were you happy Mama was born without magic?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. Was magic bad? Is that why grandmother was happy mama was born without it?
"Because, my darling, it saved your mother and gave me an excuse to disappear."
"What?" I asked, surprised. She had wistful look upon her face, almost as though she missed the world she ran away from.
"You see, honey, if your mother had magic, she would have been engaged to some Malfoy idiot, Lucius; I think his name was…" My grandmother's eyebrows knit together and a frown appeared on her face. The amount of wrinkles in her face doubled. "Well, I suppose there was also that evil, terrorist man, Voldey Mott or something; he was a Dark Lord, but honestly, that is a small matter comparing who your mother would have ended up with." She shuddered, as though the idea of my mother marrying this Lucius person disgusted her. Even more than the idea of a terrorist killing people. My grandmamma needs to reorder her priorities.
"Evil? Terrorist? What did he want to do, Grandmamma?"
My grandmother sniffed her tea delicately. "Oh, world domination, destruction of the Muggles –people with no magic, dear –, and the usual stuff evil people do, honey."
And that was the shortest, most obscure lesson of magical history I had ever received.
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Author's Note: So, I've posted this in Figment, AO3 and Harrypotterfanfiction. But there aren't many Harry Potter fans there, and besides, the best fan-fiction audience is here, so I thought; 'why not post it in fanfiction and see what happens?'
Disclaimer: Marionetta doesn't claim ownership to Harry Potter and related franchise, or to any recognizable characters. They belong to their respective owners. However, the character Faye Aldea, her friends and family are the product of Marionetta's imagination.