CHAPTER- 2

And on I went, with my life, that tiny little ray of hope that used to tell me that things might turn out to be fine someday, slowly being replaced by hatred and depression, and hopelessness. I barely managed to salvage my fears, but nonetheless kept on clinging to that fading ray of hope, kept on consuming myself with my thirst for knowledge.

The only thing that kept me moving was the idea that my letter to this magical place called Hogwarts would be arriving soon, now that I was almost eleven years old. How I longed to escape this horrifying prison of reality, how I dreamt about going off to that faraway castle, and creating a whole new world for myself…

Oh yes, I would devote my heart and soul to my studies, and I would learn so much that I would never have to reach that place of self pity and desperation where my father would always keep drowning in. Oh yes, I would make pure-blooded alliances, ones who would actually understand me…

One morning, while cleaning out the small attic, something caught my eye. On a far corner, under a thick layer of dust, were some heavy, battered books that I had never noticed before. They looked as if they had been there for ages, coated in such dense layers of dust.

Out of sheer curiosity, I picked the first one I laid my eyes on. Its cover read 'The Deep Side of Magic', and something about that title expanded the curiosity boiling inside of me. I started leafing through the pages, and soon found myself so indulged in the contents of the book, that I entirely lost track of time. By the time I was finished with it, the faint orange shade of the sky that could be seen through the small window on the far corner of the attic, with its glass windowpane lightly coated with frail layers of dust and shoot that had managed to settle over the years, told me that it was sunset. My absence throughout the day earned me a few more blows from my father, but then I thought, it was well worth it.

From then on, the attic became my hideout. I would find myself leafing through the pages of those books for hours, simply fascinated by the contents in them.

Some of them taught me about the history of the magical kind, describing in details about the revolution of the goblins, or the formation of the order of Merlin, whereas others contained complex spells, which could be used either in the steady upliftment, or in the utter destruction of the mankind. some taught you about brewing potions, its mystery embroidered within the light fumes of the mixed ingredients, whereas others simply taught you about the fascinating magical creatures, from gigantic dragons and dazzling unicorns to the tiny but venomous Doxies.

The book I found the most fascinating was naturally, 'The Deep Side of Magic'. It contained so many spells that seemed to contain the very core secrets of wizard kind. Some pages even instructed that you could create your very own spells, once you perfected the art of charms casting. I was desperate to try those spells out, too restless to wait for the day when I could have my very own wand...

After a few days of learning the contents of that book off by heart, I started moving on to the next one that was almost as enthralling. It was the one that taught you all about how to brew various potions, ones that could perform miracles. And the best part about it was... I found some of the ingredients required for it stored away here in the attic, my mom must have left it there back when life was full of rainbows and butterflies. So... In one of the old cauldrons, I started practicing brewing those potions.

Now that I had a slight taste of what magical education would feel like... I couldn't wait for my Hogwarts letter to arrive. I would visit the library there so often, and read out of as many books as I possibly could, and practice as many spells as I pleased. I now knew that I could absorb the facts from the books really quickly, and... that just catalyzed my excitement to go to this magical school.

Besides that, I knew Hogwarts was like a second home to all of its students. I would make new friends, live in dorms, have large feasts for a change, and most importantly, I'd actually have elders who would look after me as opposed to the other way around, the way that I had to live with everyday.

On and on I dreamed, spinning impossible stories and scenarios in my head. And the more I dreamt, the more I couldn't wait to turn all those dreams into reality, to watch them spring up to life… I was always seen trapped within my own dream world, and at the times when I wouldn't be dreaming, I could be seen trying to recall all the things that I had learnt from those books, trying to know it all off by heart.

Yes, I gave the impression of a strange little boy, who would be staring into space so very often, looking as if the reality wasn't worth of his mere attention. Nope, nothing in my features suggested the emotions, the longing I really felt.

What with my lifeless eyes and a permanent scowl, nothing about me suggested that I had a lot going on in my head, that my heart was leaping in excitement that very second. And I always kept on being that way; I never dared to wear my heart on my sleeve. No, emotions were better off trapped inside. Once unleashed, they could only build grief, and cloud your judgment.

Yes, even as a little child, I held masked emotions. And …That masked reputation was something, which I knew would stick with me until the very end.