"Two roads diverged in a wood and I:

I took the road less traveled by

And that has made all the difference."

-Frost

"That's amazing. It's just like magic!"

"What do you want me to do, wave a magic wand and fix it?"

"I'm going to be a witch for Halloween!"

Some people are ultra-sensitive to talk about seeing, because they are blind. Others are tuned to walking metaphors, because they can't. Things that other people don't notice hit them like stray ping-pong balls. They are the muggle equivalent of squibs, observing the people around them doing things they will never be able to do.

However, the fate of these people is in some ways worse, but in others better, than the fates of high-school dropouts and people who don't know how to swim. These people are able to master necessary skills, but for whatever reason didn't master them at the appropriate time. When they finally feel the need to give it another try, it's too late. The time has passed, and they're too busy or prideful to undergo the necessary training. They are hit by far heavier ping-pong balls. These are the muggle equivalents of Liza DiMarco and her peers, the people on the road less traveled.

Liza's decision had seemed inevitable at the time. When you're eleven and overly intelligent, it seems like you can grow up to do anything. Her mother's chuckled assertions that 'Liza's going to find the cure for cancer one day and save us all' only appeared to be half-exaggerations.

Oh, the visitor had astounded her at first with his tricks, but the DiMarcos, who both had intensive experience in physics, had little trouble realizing the 'evolutionary possibility of humans with enhanced energy systems'. What's more, they hadn't been particularly impressed with the ministry employee's limited knowledge of it- perhaps he hadn't been paying particular attention in his magical history classes? His reply of 'Well, you'll see. Binns can't keep anyone's attention very long' hadn't made a very good impression, either.

Liza's decision was mainly influenced not by the visitor's competence, though, but by one deceptively simple question: What can you do with a magical education? When it became clear that this was not a girl aspiring to own a shop on Diagon Alley, the Ministry visitor had run through the more prestigious careers. She didn't seem keen on political office, and it rather dismayed her to hear that even the best Healers held power only over magical diseases. Aurors sounded too much like high-risk police officers, people Liza knew she could only admire from afar. A simple account of the magical judicial system absolutely shocked her- it was positively medieval!

No one could say she didn't weigh her options carefully. A part of her was still eleven and thrilled about the possibilities of learning something her parents never could. Was it worth it, though? In this world, she was a bright student with an acceptance letter to the Winchester Secondary Magnet School of Mathematics and Science, and later a career in medicine. She could very well 'cure cancer'. In the magical world, she was another hapless first-year with no guarantee of any particular talent. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, "but I've considered my options and I'm going to have to decline."

The visitor was shocked. He had encountered many things in his department: strident disbelievers, uneducated gapers, and even some children whose parents, like the DiMarcos, who were not willing to let their children go anywhere that did not guarantee them a spot at the top. His response was always the same. "The only person who is able to make the decision is the prospective witch or wizard." A few children had been disowned for going. In all his time at this post, though, he had never encountered an eleven-year-old who would rather study science than magic.

Nearly ten years had passed since that day. Liza's first year at WSMSMS (or semsems as it was called) had been a rather rude awakening. It soon became clear that she was never going to cure anything if she didn't let go of her parents' liberal beliefs- didn't she know you couldn't discuss alternatives to the Quantum Theory until University? In fourth year she transferred, but to no avail.

"Oy! Smart girl! The man at this table has been waiting fifteen minutes for you to get him some coffee!" At least she'd gotten the demanding career part right.

Here she was, almost twenty-one, working a job that, if she had understood the ministry representative correctly, would be done by little green elves in the magical world. She had started getting the Kwikspell letters years ago, but she didn't have a wand, didn't have a clue how to get one, and usually tore them up. Her unusual genes had little use for her besides scaring a few boring professors and quick ex-boyfriends.

Liza sighed. It was on days like these she wished the roads in life had handy signs.

Review, please! Does anybody want to know what happens next?