All I Need
Disclaimer: The characters and subsequent terms are all property of J.K. Rowling and the publishing companies to which…published them. That should do.
Rating: T (To be safe…)
Summary: This is a Harry Potter and House, M.D. crossover-future fan fiction. There is a new head doctor at Princeton-Planesboro Teaching Hospital and just maybe, she'll bring a little 'magic' with her.
'A Very Special' A/N: This is written in a similar verse or style to my story Be My Escape and is a story in my collection of The Daughters' Of Series. (For more information check out my LJ for TvDaughter.) Another note: I do not for the most part do cannon couple; please stop reading now if all you love is canon. This is not the fiction for you. Everyone else, please read, review and enjoy or not. It's your choice.
EllaTwain
What you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing; it also depends on what kind of a person you are.
C.S. Lewis
Just one week. That's all she's asked that I give her; one more week.
What's one week really? 7 days, 168 hours, 10,008 minutes, 604,800 seconds.
Alright-
Its one week too long.
One week in a world I have no business or desire to even remotely exist in for a day- let alone seven of them. A world that in my reality is resolved to fairytales, legends, nightmares, and wives tales. This is the world I am to be subjected to and merely observe.
It's a magical world. And I am many things but magical.
In true admittance, I am what some in this world might call a 'Squib.' This name is derogatory in the magical world; it is a cut-down. I guess in non-magical terms it might be like calling another person stupid, inept, incompetent, and hopeless. To be a 'Squib' means you were born of magic but nothing magical flows through you. It's a defect, a birth defect really.
I suppose I should be offended to be deemed such a term but I have lived in reality for far too long to even care. I live as a Muggle. I learn as a Muggle. I love being a Muggle. Muggle is only a slightly less derogatory than 'Squib' in certain circles. A 'Muggle' for the uninformed populous is a non-magical person. If you are a 'Muggle' you are in the majority of the population of the entire world. You aren't one of the sacred few to discover that all things that make you unique and unusual may attributed to being magical.
I register myself as Muggle these days when I must.
And oh, how I have shamed my family. My illustrious magical family that could never think of producing a 'Squib' heir is shamed by me. My parents are very magical- in fact they are a part of the very famous wizarding community. They are a living legend witch and wizard. Before me, there were three brothers all as magical as they were. And the magical-wizarding-famous-family was happy.
Then I was born. And they waited. And waited. And they waited some more for the signs- any signs really- of my magical ability to appear. Nothing ever came. They took me to 'specialists' and 'healers' and the most brilliant wizarding minds of the day. After seven painful years, it was deduced that I was a 'Squib.'
At seven years old I was old enough to understand what had happened and young enough to wish it hadn't. To make matters worse, as if they could be-my younger brother and sisters were born. They all showed magical signs by the time they were two. Suddenly I didn't fit in and I was a hidden horrible family secret. I was the 'Squib' daughter spoke in hushed tones. Finally, the hushed tones grew louder and to 'protect me' my family sent me to a New York boarding school.
They hid me here in the States amongst all the Muggles, who had no idea who they were and that I was less-than-worthy in another world. In the Muggle world, I thrived. I want to say that is because it's where I belonged and not because I wanted to prove something but I can't.
I attended St. Peter's School for the Gifted till I was 16 years old. I graduated high school when I was 16 and then I went to Princeton and graduated from the pre-med program when I was 19 years old. I went to John Hopkins University School of Medicine and finished my fellowship last year. I'm 26 years old and have just recently been hired as the Head of the Princeton-Planesboro Teaching Hospital Medical and newly constructed Dialysis Clinic. I am a family practitioner with also a specialty in nephrology, as well. All of this and I managed a 4.0 G.P.A. for most of my schooling career, a group of close and intimate friends from New Jersey to New York, a few odd-jobs here and there, and not relying on my family to support me in any way. The schools I attended I attended on full-ride scholarships and medical school was paid for by time spent working in free clinics for credit, the odd-jobs I could sway, and working at the schools themselves if necessary.
In the Muggle world, somebody might be proud of me. In the magical one, I disgraced my family even more by refusing help. My family isn't poor or even middle class. They are well-to-do and for their daughter, even the one they never spoke of, to rely on hand-outs and aid was demeaning. To me, it was the way of life when you are what I am.
I begin my new position at the hospital in two weeks. I am letting my Mum have her one week. She gets one week out of my summer and my career and my life and nothing more. I'll be present but I never promise more than that with my family. To do so, well…it might mean I start believing that the people and the world that abandon me might care or give a damn.
And then I am back to being the seven year old little girl who watches in a dark corner, hid by large once-friendly book shelves, and a tear stained face as her parents' weep and rage that their daughter isn't…magical but just an ordinary human being. What a complete waste.
I am not seven anymore and being what I was meant to be will no longer reduce me to tears. I won't let it.
