DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter
Angus's hazel eyes widen when an owl flew next to him at the breakfast table. With timid hands, he took the letter from the clasped beak. His eyes darted over to his mother, who smiled exhaustedly, as the owl took a piece of bacon and flew away. Angus's parents started to noticed that his letter was late but thought it was an error on Hogwarts end. All of the Buchanan children knew better; Angus was a Squib. His heart fluttered with excitement as he read the letter. He is the third son of the Buchanans but the only one who hasn't shown any indications of magic. Angus must have somehow done enough magic to get him to Hogwarts.
As a young child, Angus asked his oldest brother, Hamish, how come he can't make things fly or change something into something else. Hamish exchanged a glance with his older sister, Flora. They all knew their father's stance on Squibs and Muggles despite the children playing with the locals; his daughters alone won the tug-o-war contests.
"Angie,yow might be a Squib but sometimes magic shows up when we are stressed out. Meybe we can stress yow so the magic will have to show up in yow." Hamish replied.
He spent the next years dodging his siblings' curses. Despite his athletic prowess, he was unable to fly. He was unable to reflect the curses back at his siblings. It was never said out loud, but all Buchanan children knew their brother was a Squib. It didn't make a difference to them but it meant everything to their father; a Squib is an indicator that a magial family is failing. All the children became very nervous when Angus reached eleven years old.
"Mam, we'll take Angus to get his school supplies after we finish our chores," Hamish piped up. Flora reached down to pick up her dropped fork,"The letter is fake. Will explain later," she whispered to Angus. He hurriedly fixed his faltered smile back into place.
"I'm sure yowr father would like to take him," his mother replied while trying to darn socks as well as get a bite to eat.
"Pap will be happier that we took him instead of him taking Angus after a day's labour. We'll walk doon to Hogsmeade for supplies then we'll flag doon a hansom to take us to Diagon Alley. Why don't we do this after degnoming the garden?" Flora asked. All of the children chattered excitedly about finding Angus a wand.
After degnoming the garden, the children excitedly walked down to Hogsmeade to get supplies. They erred on the side of caution by getting Angus sized robes. "We can always hem these for Crispin when it's his turn to go to Hogwarts." Flora said. "Also, they can be let out when he grows." She wished they thought of buying larger for them to grow into instead of their parents scrimping for funds every year. They bought rolls of parchment and new ink for their quills. They bought potion supplies and a couldron. They placed textbooks into Angus's, Crispin's really, new trunk. Hamish and Angus carried the trunk home.
They said goodbye to their mother, again, and Hamish signaled the Knight's Carriage with his wand. A hansom being pulled by several palomino winged horses flew down towards the children. They climbed inside the vast carriage that looked fairly normal from the outside. The children split up due to not finding enough space for eleven children. Angus, Flora, Hamish, and Crispin squeezed into a seat.
"What do you mean the letter is a fake?" Angus hissed at Flora. He was using the vaguest terms to not alert the passengers that a Squib was amongst them. Also, not saying Hogwarts did not hurt as much.
"I got nervous when a letter didn't come for yow so I made you one."
"Are you mad? Mam an' Pap will be expecting me to go to school."
"Ang, Flora forged that letter to buy yow some time! They'll think it stanger that thair son did not receive his Hogwarts letter. Meybe the castle will tease some magic out of yow," Hamish told Angus.
"Living with yow is so magical so wouldn't yow think I'd be magical by this time? I actually thought I had a chance to go to Hogwarts." His brothers and sister looked guiltily at him.
"We're sorry, Angus. We just don't want Pap to be angry at yow for something yow can't control," said Crispin. He lowered his voice conspiratorially "Besides, this will be the first time Hogwarts gets a Squib. Who knows? Yow mey have magic rub off onto yow."
Angus always thought Crispin would become an Unspeakable because Cris was always curious on how things work. If Cris was the older child, then Angus would be going to Hogwarts. Maybe not to any of the classes, but long enough to see whether a Squib can become a wizard by staying in a magical environment for a long time.
"What do we do about my wand? I mean, we can't have me try out Ollivander's wands and waste his time, do we?" Angus asked.
Flora had a contemplative look on her face,"Crispin would be the next Buchanan to go to Hogwarts so why don't we get his wand now."
Crispin started bouncing in his seat. "Don't get too excited, Crispin, I'm going to hold on to that wand until you get to Hogwarts," Hamish said. Crispin sulked despite being able to study at Hogwarts.
"What about me?" Angus frowned, "If we are going to make this believable, shouldn't I have a wand to have for Hogwarts?"
"Ang, I'll keep the wand on me. I'll give yow the wand back, if the castle accepts yow. Afterwards, we'll give it back to Crispin and get yow a new one.
Angus felt better; it was going to be fun seeing a wand choose Crispin. In his wildest fantasy, he imagined himself, next year, picking out a new wand with his siblings. All of them smiling and Crispin saying something like, "Noo we should get every Squib to Hogwarts to see if he can become a wizard." All the Squibs coming from miles away to spend a year in Hogwarts so they can be a wizard like Angus Buchanan, the first Squib turned wizard. Angus didn't care if he wasn't in Slytherin with most of his siblings as long as he was with them at Hogwarts. Not until now, he never gave in to fantasizing himself at Hogwarts. Now he was going to Hogwarts, all he needed is for the castle to accept him.
Before they knew it, they were in Diagon Alley getting out of the hansom. Angus abandoned the far-fetch dream he was having; Angus dreamt of being offered the role of Seeker for the Wigtown Wanderers after his last game at Hogwarts. They set off for Ollivander's. They crowded into a small, shabby shop that has the name Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. in gold letters. A wand lay on a bright purple cusion to attract the attention of passersby. Angus longedly look at the wand before stepping inside the shop with his brothers and sisters.
It was a very tiny place and the siblings were bunched up to avoid touching something they shouldn't. There were thousands of narrow boxes that were piled up all the way to the ceiling on each wall with an exception of the door and window. Angus felt a sneeze coming on but tried to suppress it because he felt that this place was somehow sacred and a loud noise would ruin the atmosphere. His eyes roam everywhere looking for the shopkeeper and noticing that some of the boxes were becoming dusty.
"Good afternoon," a soft voice said. The children were startled to find that the speaker of the voice was just before them. The man with a shock of red hair and vivid blue eyes looked back at the children.
"Too soon, isn't it?" Mr. Ollivander asked to the childrens' horror.
"We're here to buy Crispin's wand. We figured why not get his wand early," Hamish told Mr. Ollivander.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Hamish Buchanan...Apple, fourteen inches, pliable, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Nice wand. Are you interested in Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology?"
Hamish smiled, "Those are my favourite classes, sir."
Mr. Ollivander asked Crispin what is his wand arm to which Crispin replied that he was left-handed. He measured Crispin from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around his towhead head.
"Every Ollivander wand has a core from either unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. These wands encompassed powerful magical cores, Mr. Buchanan. No two Ollivander wands are the same as no two unicorns, dragons, and phoenixes are the same. So, you'll never get good results with another wizard's wand. "
The measuring tape continued to measure until it was told to stop by Mr. Ollivander and it fell into a heap on the floor. Mr. Ollivander started handing Crispin different wands to wave. Angus happily watched his brother trying to get desired results.
Mr Buchanan," Mr. Ollivander eyed Crispin, "I'll think we'll find your wand in no time. Hmmm...I think it is down between these two, the birch and the cherry." Both wands were agreeable to Crispin, giving red and gold sparks, lighting up the small shop.
"What is the difference between them?" Crispin asked Mr. Ollivander.
Mr. Ollivander smiled, "Birch has a reputation for weakness but it can cast a powerful Patronus Charm and do healing magic. The cherry is a willing wand that will give you consistent results at all magic with an exception to the Dark Arts. This wand has unicorn hair as the core; best for healing. It also means it is quite compatible with Charms and Transfiguration. I think you have more an affinity with the cherry wand."
They paid Mr. Ollivander four Galleons and he bowed them from the shop. Crispin raised his new wand to summon the Knight's Carriage.
"Remember, Angus, Hogwarts might not recognize yow so if the Deputy Head starts on the C's then get to the stool," Agatha said.
"Am I going to hear some earthly voice coming from the walls?" asked Angus.
"No, silly, an entity speaks for the castle."
"Someone told me we had to fight trolls to get sorted." Tyler looked pointedly at Hamish who was grinning bashfully.
"Don't worry. Yow'll won't be doing anything foolhardy." Flora glared at Hamish.
A fortnight passed and it was time for Angus to go to Hogwarts. None of the Buchanan parents knew of their children's deception. Their father grunted "'Boot time!" when he was told that Angus received his letter. His mother only smiled when Angus showed them Crispin's wand, "Meybe yow'll become a healer." None of the children understood why their parents never caught on that their brother was a Squib. Maybe their saving grace was being too rambunctious for either parent to know that something was amiss. It was too late for either parent to do anything because the Hogwarts bound children were walking towards the forest edge to mount their brooms.
Hamish and Angus, who was sitting behind Hamish, both pushed against the ground causing them to fly straight up into the sky just beyond the tree tops. The brisk evening air made flying enjoyable, but it didn't take Angus's mind off his worry.
"Hamish, what if Hogwarts don't accept me?"
"Meybe yow can ask to work in the Hogwarts. "
"What if they don't want me to stay?"
"Angus, just go back home then."
"What aboot Pap?"
"He'll be mad that we tricked him but yowr family so he won't kick yow out."
"What if he does? Pap has a temper on him and he doesn't like Squibs."
"Angus, go to Edinburgh. Find a place to stay and work there."
They flew in silence; both hoping that Angus would somehow be able to stay at the castle. A magnificent sight greeted them as they were flying. They saw the castle while they were at Hogsmeade but it didn't look spectacular because it was always part of the scenery. But, now that Angus was actually to step inside it it seemed to take on magic of its own. The castle grew bigger as the drew closer and Angus was able to see that the dots below were students walking. They sailed through the gates and landed on the lane leading up to the castle's double oak doors.
"Those are first years waiting for Professor Fortescue, so get in line. I'll be sitting at the Slytherin table waiting for the ceremony to start. Good luck!" Hamish ruffled Angus's brown hair and walked away.
Angus walked over to the first years and looked at them enviously. No one is freaking out about trying to fool the castle. If anything, they are nervous about where they'll be sorted. He looked at a black curly haired boy with dark calculating eyes. Angus walked over next to him and politely initiated a handshake. The boy shook his hand and inclined his head. "You must be a Buchanan. I'm Phineas Black. "
"Angus Buchanan. Are you going to be sorted into Slytherin as well?"
"I expect nothing less. Has your family told you how we are going to be sorted?"
"No, has yowrs?"
Black snorted, "They don't want to spoil the surprise. Wouldn't it be better to be prepared? So you can be sorted into the corrected house? When I have children, I'll tell them how they'll be Sorted so they will not be in Hufflepuff. Say, Buchanan, didn't you have a brother who was sorted into Hufflepuff?"
"Yes, Patrick is in Hufflepuff."
"How did your family take this?"
"My Pap only cares if we are magical; he doesn't like Squibs."
"I guess there is something worse than being a Hufflepuff. If any of my children are Squibs, I'll disinherit them. Wizards are suppose to beget wizards and Muggles are suppose to beget Muggles. If a wizard produces a Squib, then an ancestor was fraternizing with a Muggle-born or worse, a Muggle! I agree with Slytherin-Hogwarts shouldn't take in Muggle-borns and risk the purity of the wizard line. "
Angus was glad that Professor Fortescue was motioning them inside. They were led into the entrance hall that was so big that Angus thought that Hogsmeade could fit inside. There were flaming torches and there was a grandiose marble staircase facing them that would lead to upper floors.
The first years followed Professor Fortescue across the flagged stone floor. Angus nervously heard voices from the doorway to the right as Professor Fortescue escorted them into a small, empty chamber off the hall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor Fortescue. "We'll be eating soon, but you need to be sorted before then. You'll be sorted into four houses; Gryffindor for the brave, Slytherin for the ambitious, Hufflepuff for the toilers, and Ravenclaw for the creative. Your house will be like family; you'll sleep there, spend time in the common room, and you'll have classes with your house. You can win points to earn the house cup at the end of the year. I shall return when we are ready for you."
Professor Fortescue left the chamber and the whispering started "How are we going to get sorted?" "Are we going to have to fight a dragon?" "No, they wouldn't risk bringing a dragon here. Now, they may bring a giant." "Maybe we have to swim across the lake-the one that is encounters most of the beasts without backing down would be in Gryffindor. And if you used creativity, then you be Raven-" "Why bring us inside, then? Instead of leaving us outside to swim across the lake?" "How will we be tested then?" Angus started to breathe deeply to prevent himself from hyperventilating.
Then something happened causing him and others to jump in fright and some screamed.
"Mudbloods." Black breathed.
About twelve specters glided across the room and were so deeply engrossed in their conversations that they almost failed to notice the first years.
"Peeves ought to be careful; Mr. Carpe is going mad," a ghost with a ruffled collar said.
"I'm afraid Mr. Carpe is heading for early retirement if he is not too careful," a friar ghost said sadly.
"He keeps talking about excorcising Peeves-"
"Peeves is not an evil spirit!"
"That's your opinion, my dear Friar. Peeves has always been a nuisance. What are you doing here?" The children stared blankly back at the ghost.
"Ah, it new students! Waiting to be sorted, am I correct?" The Friar broke into a very big grin.
Angus and a few others nodded solemnly.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar.
Professor Fortescue came back and ushered the ghosts away. "Now, form a line and follow me."
Angus stood behind Black who seemed to be radiating with confidence that he was lacking. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and into the Great Hall.
The hall was such a splendid sight. There were four long tables, laden with golden plates and chalices, and above the tables, hanging in midair, were lighted candles. At the top of the hall was another long table that seated the teachers. Professor Mole looked on with a smile on her face. 'I hope she is still smiling after I make a fool out of myself,' thought Angus glumly. They were now facing the other students with the teachers to their backs. To avoid the stares of the other students, Angus was looking down on the floor. He heard someone whisper about the enchanted ceiling mimicking the sky outside. He did not want to chance a glance in case his eyes catch all the students staring at them.
Angus looked at what Professor Fortescue was doing; he placed a four-legged stool in front of them and on that stool, was a well-worned wizard's hat. The hall became very hushed as everyone was looking at the hat expectantly. The hat started to sing:
"Oh, there were once the founders, if you will,
They all came to pour,
Magical knowledge into young minds,
Knowledge was like water as minds were a well,
No magical parent wanted their child,
To be behind but to be like their kinds,
So for the child who values guile,
You'll find apt connections in Slytherin,
For those children who are not afriad,
But ready to join in the fray,
You'll find your kind in Gryffindor,
If trickery is not your style,
And your not really for the braves,
but knowledge is what you really craves,
Ravenclaw will do well for your mind,
If your willing to put your nose to the grind,
but feel you don't have a ready mind,
Never fear, Hufflepuff will be there,
Although, there was a fear,
You see, the founders were not going to live forever,
But they wanted the learning to last,
And everyone was having a blast,
Gryffindor had an epiphany,
Maybe at a symphony,
And so I was born,
So try me on,
And your house will be blasted out like a horn!
The hat bowed to its standing ovation and then became very still. Angus felt butterflies in his stomach as he heard others being indignant because their siblings told them something else. 'Why couldn't they try on the hat in the chamber?' Angus starting to feel desperate. He couldn't quite understand how his siblings, but one, were sorted into Slytherin when they all enjoy a great battle at home. Although, it took two great Slytherins to get him this far to Hogwarts.
Professor Fortescue stepped forward with a long roll of parchment, "When I call your name, put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Arlie!"
Angus's stomach dropped; he was going to be sorted in front of everyone. He could imagine Black's horror that he was talking to a Squib, a Squib who was trying to gain admittance into Hogwarts. A pink-faced boy with curly blond hair put on the hat, which was too big for his head, and sat down. There was a moment's pause-
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Arlie sat down at the Hufflepuff table.
"Avery, Maximillian!"
A boy as sturdy as Angus strode up to the stool and the hat was placed on his head.
"SLYTHERIN!"
The boy sauntered off to the Slytherin table to cheers and catcalls.
"Black, Phineas!"
Black walked to the stool, sat down and the hat barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Black swaggered to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Hamish.
"Bones, Seraphina!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Bultrode, Drusilla!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
The girl with black hair and stunning blue eyes pranced over to the Slytherin table.
"Burke, Esmerelda!"
Angus gasped and realized that his name should have been called so he rushed over to the stool and jammed the hat on his head.
"What are you doing here?" asked a small voice in his ear.
'Please, put me anywhere- Slytherin or Hufflepuff! Anywhere as long as I can stay at Hogwarts!' Angus thought desperately.
"You do not belong at Hogwarts."
'My parents will be upset that I'm not a wizard!'
"They'll only be saddened that you weren't able to come to them for help," and to Angus Buchanan's horror, the voice boomed, "A GOOD-HEARTED CHAP, BUT NO WIZARD!"
The hat was plucked from his head. He didn't see who marched him out of the Great Hall because of the haze of tears. Why couldn't that hat asked to speak with Headmistress Mole? The headmistress may have offered him a job, or something, to give him a year at the very least to break it to his parents.
Angus took a moment to steady his breathing and wiped away his tears. He was walking but he really wasn't paying attention. All he knew was that this was not a boisterous walk like he had with his siblings on many occasions. Before he knew it, Angus was back in his village heading to his family's house. He didn't really rehearse the conversation between him and his father. Could he somehow intervene before the news reaches Pap? Will Pap understand that he did all of this in fear of him? If the news already reached Pap, then Angus probably should spend the night somewhere else. Angus decided to head for the house because his parents might worry about him if he doesn't show up.
With no key, Angus knocked on the door. He didn't expected the door to fling open showing a very angry Pap.
"Do yow know how much embarrassment yow caused me, boy!" his father rasped.
Angus shrinked away in fear.
"Not only yow are a Squib, but yow tried to hoodwink the school to accept yow! I received many letters, one from the headmistress, another from a school governor, and many from irritated parents who thought I was trying to besmirched the sacredness of the Sorting Ceremony! Oot! Oot! I never want to see yowr face again!"
"But, father!"
"Yow are no son o' mine! Get oot, noo!" his father wheezed.
Angus stood there, stunned, until his father started firing curses at him so he had no choice but to run off. While running, he chance a glance at his former home and saw the blond halo of Crispin at the top floor window. Tears ran down Crispin's face. Angus kept running because he didn't want his father to catch up or hit him with any curses. That was the last time Angus ever set eyes on his father or his family's home; he never got to see his mother again.
He walked to Edinburgh. He squashed the idea of returning to Hogwarts to beg to the headmistress that he had no where to go and he grew up in the magical world so that is the only world he knows. The hat's voice echoed in his brain, "You do not belong to Hogwarts." So eleven year old Angus found himself penniless and without a family, walking to the capital in hopes of finding shelter and some work to earn money. He occasionally hitched rides on carts and finally wound up in Edinburgh where he met a nice foreman and his wife who provided him with shelter and work. He lied about his age and background, never saying a word about the magical childhood he had, but he grew into a strong man that was admired for his kind nature and physical aptitude.
Several years gone by since Angus tried on the Sorting Hat and his dream of playing for the Wigtown Wanderers vanished, but he never gave up sports. He was a natural for cricket because of all those years of catching Golden Snitches with his siblings in their back garden. Besides cricket, which was the water downed version of Quidditch, a game was starting to become popular, rugby. Quite a few of his friends were trying to encourage him to consider rugby. He was told, with his stature, that he was a shoe in for rugby.
On December 8, 1870, Angus's friends issued a challenge in The Scotsman and in Bell's Life in London. William Forsyth, showed Angus the article which the following sentences grabbed his attention.
"Not that we think the play of the gentlemen who represented Scotland otherwise than very good-for that it was so is amply proved by the stout resistance they offered to their opponents and by the fact that they were beaten by only one goal-but that we consider the Association rules, in accordance with which the late game was played, not such as to bring together the best team Scotland could turn out. Almost all the leading clubs play by the Rugby Code, and have no opportunity of practising the Association game even if willing to do so. . . If it be entered into we can promise England a hearty welcome and a first-rate match."
Angus looked up from the newspaper at his grinning friend, "So we're taking the mickey oot of 'em?"
Wills looked aghast, "Why, of course. Ye don' always expect us to pussy footin' around do, ye? When the games is jus' startin' to get good, they start penalizing us for bein' too aggressive. I want to show 'em a real man's sport. Are ye in or not?"
Angus smiled, "When's practice?"
The Brits are willing to play them on Monday, March 27, 1871. The game was going to take place in Raeburn Place, Edinburgh. England's captain is Frederick Stokes and Scotland's captain is Francis Moncrieff. Mr. A. Ward and Dr. Hely Hutchinson Almond will be umpiring. Mr. Ward's from England as Dr. Almond was from Scotland. Both teams comprised twenty men each. Playing for the Scots are Francis Moncrieff, William Davie Brown, Thomas Chalmers, Alfred Clunies-Ross, Thomas Marshall, William Cross, John Arthur, Angus Buchanan, Andrew Galbraith Colville, Daniel Drew, William Forsyth, James Finlay, Robert William Irvine, William John Campbell Lyall, James Andrew Whitelock Mein, JLH MacFarlane, Robert Munro, George Ritchie, Alexander Hamilton Robertson, and John Shaw Thomson.
"Cor blimey, there is lot of spectators here! How many yow think showed up? I see more people here than at the Cougar's matches and the cricket matches," Angus said looking around the stadium. Raeburn Place normally held cricket matches but today a rugby match is going to take place.
"Don't get stage fright on us now, Angus. These people are here to see us break some skulls and prove Scotland's might over England. It's time to show England what a true sport is intead of that sissy game they had us playing," Wills replied.
"I think there is around four thousand people here, lads," George Ritchie said as he squinted around the stands trying to estimate how many stands there were and how many people could be placed on one stand.
Angus looked across the stadium to where England's team was standing trying to find a few pointers for the game. The English was wearing all white with a red rose on their shirts opposed to the Scots wearing brown shirts with a thistle and white cricket flannels. The lads on the English side were a much heavier and stronger build than them. Angus knew most of the spectators were rooting for Scotland but their chances were poor with opponents built like that.
"Right, lads. They're givin' us an hour and forty minutes, two halves, to beat England. Now, remember that a goal is awarded for a successful conversion after a try. A try is grounding the ball in England's in-goal area but we have to make sure an opponent is there at the same time for it to be counted as a try! We want to show England how a sport is really played! So if ye feel like yer bein' trampled then pass the ball to someone who can score," Francis said with a maniac glint in his eyes.
The game started just after three o'clock. The Scottish team had the kick off. It was a long time before anything spectacular happened. Angus's eyes roamed over the stands, as he ran, when he noticed all ten of his siblings was watching him play rugby. Angus considered himself lucky for not getting trampled, but, in his elation of seeing his brothers and sisters at the match, he became the first person to ever scored a try in international rugby.
When one hour and forty minutes were up, the Scottish won with two tries and a goal and the English only had one try. The Buchanan siblings stormed out on the field to greet their brother. Angus nearly collasped with the weight of all of his siblings crowding in for a group hug. Hamish fondly stood on his tiptoes to ruffle Angus's hair.
"What...How did yow know I was here?" Angus asked them.
"We remembered how much yow loved Quidditch, so we tried to find the equivalent for it. What really tipped us off was an article in the Scotsman and in Bell. We figured yow might be interested in rugby so we came here in hopes to see yow," Flora smiled adoringly at her brother.
"We were always looking for yow. We always wanted to know if yow're safe and happy," Hamish replied.
"Mr. Buchanan? May I get your autograph, please?" A young boy asked.
"Ah, sure." Angus signed the boy's book and the boy skipped happily to another player.
"I don't see what the fuss is all about," Angus scratched his head. "Why would anyone want my autograph?"
His siblings looked at him with their mouths agape; even they knew rugby is popular with the Muggles as Quidditch is with wizards.
Many years passed since Angus was reunited with his siblings. They would always try to come to watch him play either rugby or cricket. The Buchanan siblings sometimes brought their friends to show them that Squibs can have a life. Word spread that a Squib was playing rugby and cricket, so more oddly clad wizards watched Angus play. Wizards didn't like cricket, but they did have a sadistic love for rugby.
Angus Buchanan died on February 21, 1927, at the age of 80. He was much loved by his siblings, Muggles, and by quite a few wizards. After his death, he was honoured by both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. My Life as a Squib, published in 1900, was on its one hundred and tenth edition by 2014. The Angus Buchanan Cup for Outstanding Effort was given yearly to a Hogwarts student who show remarkable improvement from hard work.
The Wizarding Supporters of Scottish Rugby Union was formed in Angus Buchanan's memory. To this day, on the eve of every Scottish international match, their members would get together to toast Angus's memory. So when you are standing next to oddly clad people, maybe foreigners, at a Scottish international match, smile at Angus Buchanan's memory. Smile for the Squib who came to Hogwarts Sorting Ceremony to become one of the most celebrated in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds by playing rugby.