I don't own the Potter-verse I just play in it.
Please review; also the title is Latin for soldier.. not a measurement of
distance.
Miles Militis
"The Lord works in mysterious ways." That's the last thing my father said to me as I boarded the train. I was eleven years old going off into a new school, a new world. My letter arrived one morning and my parents never looked at me the same way again. Raised in a strict Irish Catholic family, being magic made me an outcast. I would have done anything to give it away. My parents brought me to church and had an exorcism performed. It didn't work. God was punishing me for something I had done. I hadn't served him in everything I had done. I lied to my parents once; I hit my little brother. This was a curse for my transgressions. To me as bad as the Plagues of Egypt. My little brother was moved out of our room in case it was contagious. I prayed constantly asking the Saints to remove this stain on my soul but God's back was to me. The time rolled around and my Father brought my supplies and I to the train station. "Redeem yourself in the eyes of the Lord my son, use your curse in his advantage. This caused several in the crowd to eye him angrily but he kept his eyes on me. As the train started to pull away he pressed a silver Crucifix into my palm, and leaned in to deliver his message. Having washed his hands of me he walked out of the station and out of my life forever.
Hogwarts was my home for the next seven years. On summer holidays I would go to a church orphanage. The church had no knowledge of the nature of the school I attended. They believed it was a school preparing me for the Priesthood. They would greet me kindly each summer, but always suspected something different about me. Each summer I would study and pray to the Saints begging to be relieved of my curse, to no avail. At the end of every summer I would return to the God Forsaken School and learn what they had to teach me. One day I would have to put it to the service of the Lord and save my eternal soul. I wore the Crucifix I was given everyday no matter the stares I got from other students. The other students were not of my concern; they would just get in the way of my eventual salvation. I studied hardest in Defense Against the Dark Arts, knowing this would help me serve my Father. I blessed every meal taken in the great hall and at feasts the Headmaster would give me time at the end of his speech. He always understood my problems and had arranged my summer lodgings. He told me that he had once let one forgotten wizard rot in an uncaring orphanage and would never let that happen again. Over time I became top in most of my classes and was made a prefect. When my seventh year came I rejected the position of Head Boy, preferring to study and fraternize with two other Ravenclaws I had become friends with in D.A.D.A. It was not usually in my nature to make friends but these two had grown on me steadily. First attempting to figure out what it was I had around my neck, and later for help with more difficult spells and assignments. Graduation came and I was flooded with job offers from numerous sources, including the Ministry of Magic. However being an Auror was not what I had in mind. I was to devote myself to the hunting and extermination of dark creatures. Not just a mere Constable making the eventual arrest, but a Soldier. A soldier destroying the enemies of my Father. In London I stopped at a tattoo parlor and had St. Michael put on my Right arm and St. George put on my left. They would be my strength and inspiration in the darkness. From there I made my last visit to the orphanage, where I supplied myself with all the Holy Instruments I would need for my fight. Thus equipped I went off into the Magical world ready to wash clean the stain on my soul.
Miles Militis
"The Lord works in mysterious ways." That's the last thing my father said to me as I boarded the train. I was eleven years old going off into a new school, a new world. My letter arrived one morning and my parents never looked at me the same way again. Raised in a strict Irish Catholic family, being magic made me an outcast. I would have done anything to give it away. My parents brought me to church and had an exorcism performed. It didn't work. God was punishing me for something I had done. I hadn't served him in everything I had done. I lied to my parents once; I hit my little brother. This was a curse for my transgressions. To me as bad as the Plagues of Egypt. My little brother was moved out of our room in case it was contagious. I prayed constantly asking the Saints to remove this stain on my soul but God's back was to me. The time rolled around and my Father brought my supplies and I to the train station. "Redeem yourself in the eyes of the Lord my son, use your curse in his advantage. This caused several in the crowd to eye him angrily but he kept his eyes on me. As the train started to pull away he pressed a silver Crucifix into my palm, and leaned in to deliver his message. Having washed his hands of me he walked out of the station and out of my life forever.
Hogwarts was my home for the next seven years. On summer holidays I would go to a church orphanage. The church had no knowledge of the nature of the school I attended. They believed it was a school preparing me for the Priesthood. They would greet me kindly each summer, but always suspected something different about me. Each summer I would study and pray to the Saints begging to be relieved of my curse, to no avail. At the end of every summer I would return to the God Forsaken School and learn what they had to teach me. One day I would have to put it to the service of the Lord and save my eternal soul. I wore the Crucifix I was given everyday no matter the stares I got from other students. The other students were not of my concern; they would just get in the way of my eventual salvation. I studied hardest in Defense Against the Dark Arts, knowing this would help me serve my Father. I blessed every meal taken in the great hall and at feasts the Headmaster would give me time at the end of his speech. He always understood my problems and had arranged my summer lodgings. He told me that he had once let one forgotten wizard rot in an uncaring orphanage and would never let that happen again. Over time I became top in most of my classes and was made a prefect. When my seventh year came I rejected the position of Head Boy, preferring to study and fraternize with two other Ravenclaws I had become friends with in D.A.D.A. It was not usually in my nature to make friends but these two had grown on me steadily. First attempting to figure out what it was I had around my neck, and later for help with more difficult spells and assignments. Graduation came and I was flooded with job offers from numerous sources, including the Ministry of Magic. However being an Auror was not what I had in mind. I was to devote myself to the hunting and extermination of dark creatures. Not just a mere Constable making the eventual arrest, but a Soldier. A soldier destroying the enemies of my Father. In London I stopped at a tattoo parlor and had St. Michael put on my Right arm and St. George put on my left. They would be my strength and inspiration in the darkness. From there I made my last visit to the orphanage, where I supplied myself with all the Holy Instruments I would need for my fight. Thus equipped I went off into the Magical world ready to wash clean the stain on my soul.