Those lost can be Found

by Siobhan Flynn

Recounting my times at Hogwarts I come to the realization that blood does not make who you are, terrible deeds do not define a population. We are what we decide we are, not the other way around. Hogwarts changed my life in too many ways to count, but I learned one very big lesson: Those lost can be found I just have to look in the right place

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Post by Owl

Life after the Dark Lord came back wasn't good for anyone, even a witch who married and lived with her Irish muggle born husband. During his rise to power, I don't remember much I was just a baby (a toddler). Death eaters backed by their dear old Lord Voldy had nothing to fear from the ministry of magic so off they went having Death eater fun. Looking for the Potter boy hunting down mudbloods and anyone less than half blood, terrorizing the humans and just being bratty. Seriously levitating muggles how cliché? They are lame, using animation spells to animate muggle clothes to rip off and attack (and kill) the wearer? Just weak. Forcing socks down people's esophagus until they choke and slowly die, all the while the socks are making their way out of the digestive tract (that's right out down the mouth out the anus). At least that's creative.

There were raids all over Britain, Scotland and Ireland. No one was safe. First they went after mum, Belletrix hunted her niece herself. Dad took me to his very muggle family and hat wasn't so bad. He dropped me off and went on the run; the Death Eaters had the entire Ministry to play with. He knew it was only a matter of time until he too was subject to the cruciatus curse. I was safe being far too young to be in the system and as dad wrote in his letter the dark lord should have fallen by then and if not he doubts the dark lord will maintain the government (he may have sugar coated it about how bad it was now I can see that if the dark lord didn't fall, the only saving grace I have is my pureblood mother).

Dark days I was born in and grew up in. Dad took me to his parents that's right the people who dealt with a wizard son, smart choice my dad made. He also told them what was going on, so, even the muggles knew it was a very bad time. There were a lot of rules that I lived by, don't go out alone, no outside at sunset, no going to a friends house without my grandparents meeting the parents first, no candy at all, sleepovers were only allowed at my place, no big birthday parties, and no talking about the weird things that we had. Oh yes, my grandparents kept my fathers school trunk, and they had his subscription of the daily prophet, and a bag of wizarding money.

As much as I wish I could say I was a brat who hated the rules, I was until the first muggle house got attacked by Death Eaters. I'll never forget it, the house was three streets away from ours. There was the Death Eater symbol over the roof, it was a dark green smoke and the snake slithered and squirmed out of the skull. I never saw the inside of the house, but the pictures were all over the post, body parts were everywhere, blood painted the walls, and there was a message painted on the outside of the house, 'Witnesses, snitches, and mudbloods beware, the dark lord has risen'. The windows of the house were broken, wooden panels falling off the side of the house. It later became a haunted house.

Muggle School was fun; it was the first time I actually got to have friends, well sort of. As long as they followed my grandparents' rules and so did I. I was very clever for my age in Muggle School and I loved learning about science. I excelled at all of my muggle lessons except for history. My grandparents never hid the truth from me about my parents how they died and who I am. So I was very curious as to why no one knew about the dark lord and what happened. My grandparents had to sit me down and explain that most non-magical people didn't know anything about the magical world.

There I was, a kid with a secret, I knew that magic was real a truth no one else got to know. I was a magical child, with magical parents and one day I will learn magic. While everyone had to grow up and admit mermaids, unicorns, vampires, werewolves, trolls, pixies, fairies, giants and goblins were just make believe. I felt like I was in a secret club.

I remember the first day something magic happened to me. It happened when I was eight years old and at the end of year three in muggle school. There was this really mean girl, she told me I wasn't pretty with my mud brown hair, mud brown eyes and buck teeth. She then told me pretty girls always have blonde hair, blue eyes and even teeth. I was shaking with fury even when my grandmother picked me up after school. I was so mad I kicked the neighbour's cat.

My grandmother asked me what was bothering me at dinner but I didn't feel talking about it. Who wants to talk about their flaws as reasons for not being pretty. So instead I stomped to my room and slammed the door. I fumed all night and thought all about what she said, I had to be blonde with blue eyes and even teeth to be pretty. And for some reason I really needed to prove to her that I was pretty. I knew the biggest secret ever so what does she know.

That morning I woke up with the fullest softest smoothest and sleekest blonde hair. I had the most bluest, softest and sparkly baby blue eyes. And my teeth were perfectly even. I was even prettier than that stupid Emma Jorgins

I can downstairs feeling like I was walking on sunshine, and like I was glowing, I couldn't wait to see Emma's face. That will teach her for saying I wasn't pretty. My grandparents weren't so thrilled. My grandfather dropped his breakfast tea all over the table and my grandmother stared and the bacon burned.

'Soibhan, sweety, how about you stay home today.' My grandmother said sitting me down at the table while my grandfather cleaned up his tea. She set toast in front of me and threw out the bacon.

'But I can't! Emma Jorgins said I wasn't pretty! And now I am! I have to show her!' I pleaded my grandmother. I just had to rub it in her stupid face. I was magic and she wasn't and I can change how I look. I would like to see her try to Change her hair colour, and eye colour and how even her teeth are all at once.

'Oh darling, she is a stupid brat who can't tell the difference between her face and her backside.' My grandmother told me rubbing my arm. I nodded she was right; she was the stupidest person in class. She failed most of the tests and quizzes we had.

'She is just jealous that you got top grades this year popkin, don't let her poison you, you are pretty inside and out.' My grandfather said choosing his words very carefully. I think he did that because I somehow had turned myself into a blonde barbie doll.

'Then why can't I go to school?' I asked completely unconcerned that non-magical children don't just change their hair colour, and eye colour. Apparently the thought that I could cause school wide panic, and end in social services questioning my grandparents about how my hair and eye colour changed so drastically over night.

'Because, darling today is a very special day and I think it's time that you meet someone.' My grandmother had told me and just like that, all of my thoughts of going to school and rubbing my overnight beauty in Emma's nose faded. This had to mean I was going to meet dare I speak it, meet a witch or wizard! I have waited my entire life for this moment (or at least that's what it felt like to my nine year old brain).

'Really? So I can meet a real live wizard or witch?' I asked trying my hardest to contain my glee. I don't think I did that good of a job both of my grandparents chuckled to themselves.

'That's right, popkin. Now run upstairs and get dressed.' Grandmother said kissing me on the head. I finished eating my breakfast and ran back upstairs. I was excited, I didn't have to go to class, I get to meet someone magical, and I look ten times as pretty as that stupid Emma Jorgins ever did. Today was the best day of my life, literally it beats the day Grandmother got me a kitty (I names him Tiger, he was a small orange cat with swirls or cream and white) and this beats all Christmases and Birthdays.

I ran upstairs and into my room and started to look for the perfect outfit for meeting someone like me: magical. I suppose it never dawned on me to inquire exactly how my very non-magical grandparents planned on contacting this magical person. Or better yet how did they know anyone magical, it wasn't as if they welcomed them over for weekly tea parties. I suppose my young mind was far to busy to worry about the exact details of this most amazing day. I had to found something to wear that would not embarrass me and look good with my new hair.

At the end of my torture my grandfather parked the car by what looked less like the meeting place of a magical person but the meeting to a scary professor. I felt this dark deep pit in my stomach I didn't want to go in there, it was dark and old and the building was leaking much like the sign (The Leaky Cauldron).

The inside looked much better than the outside did. The inside was warm and inviting and dare I say magical? The bottom floor was littered with wooden tables and the upstairs was lined with doors. This place was so much bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. I was instantly impressed and excited and the biggest smile crept on my face.

Everywhere all around was a sight to see, there was someone stirring their tea without touching the spoon, their finger was swirling over it. The spoon stirred itself! Clearly they were too busy reading their book 'Fairies are they friend or foe?' to be bothered in actually stirring their tea. I want to do magic like that no words or anything!

There was a witch who twitched her nose and said a little her empty cup filled all by itself! Just a twitch of her nose and maybe she muttered something under her breathe but still that is impressive. Her biscuit plate also filled itself but I don't mean to brag about her magical prowess.

'There they are.' Grandmother said pointing at two very ginger people. She pulled me away from watching someone pull out their wand and turning their rat into a goblet and a ferret ran up to sit beside them and that ferret turned into a person! Like poof one second white ferret the next second a blonde person who picked up the goblet! I almost couldn't look away from the sight.

The ginger people my grandmother pointed out waved at us and we waved back. The woman was short and plump and had the wildest red hair I had ever seen. She had grey streaks running through it but nonetheless it was red. Her smile made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside its the motherly smile. She had the same sort of smile my grandmother had, a smile that you trusted. The man beside her looked younger, and wore his ginger hair in a ponytail and had a large fang hanging from his ear. There was only one word that I could think of to describe him: cool. He looked laid back and fun and well like all cool boys look.

As grandmother and grandfather sat down several large clear mugs of what looked like ginger beer but darker were placed on coasters in front of them by a hunched over bald man. He could do with a bit of magic to fix his teeth. They were all pointed and jagged and going every which way. I sat down in the only available seat right in front of the coolest guy I had ever seen.

'I ordered us all butter beers, I brought my son, if I had brought Arthur he would go on and on about your muggle contraptions and forget all about your inquiry. Can you explain exactly what occurred?' The woman said taking a sip of her butter beer as she called it. I took a sip it tasted like pumpkin and caramel and a dash of whipped cream and spice. It was magical and delicious and amazing and I want to drink it every day.

'Thank you, well here is her school photograph. As you can see her hair and eyes have changed drastically and this occurred last night, yesterday she comes home from school is a tizzy, won't talk about it, and this morning she comes down the stairs as she is now.' Grandmother explained, grandfather nodded along drinking his butter beer politely I could tell he wasn't a fan of it. His nose did that crinkly thing it did when grandmother made meatloaf. As grandmother explained both mother and son looked my school photograph over, I had chosen to wear ocean blue dress with fish on it and the matching headband and I had decorated my shoes with fish stickers (you can't see the shoes but that was crucial to complete the look).

'My dear, what happened?' She looked at me with her comforting motherly eyes. I didn't realize until now that I was getting worried about this whole thing, clearly it as not something my grandparents had expected to happen to me, and they knew I was magical.

'Well Emma Jorgins told me in her stupid snide voice that pretty girls look like her blonde hair and blue eyes like a doll, and I had none of those.' I said last with the hem of my dress explaining it again made me feel stupid it was silly really. 'So I got home and I was still mad, I wanted to show her that I was just as pretty as she was. Everyone knows I'm soo much smarter than her. Anyways so I thought if I had prettier blonde hair than her and even sparklier blue eyes than she would have to admit I was pretty and she would just hate that.' I explained imagining face when she has to tell me I'm pretty they are after all he rules.

'At least she had a good reason.' Bill said looking very amused. I sure hope he isn't laugh it at me. I would just die (I thought I would at the time but now I know I won't die just because some guy laughs at me or doesn't approve) if he was laughing at me. Honestly today had gone from best to worst.

'Quite, most girls her age try to make the others feel bad not rue the day they say something mean.' Bill's mother sounding proud and impressed in me,. I swelled up with pride. This magical amazing woman who doesn't even know me was proud in me.

'Yes we are quite proud she has a rather unique way of approaching things, but when her father was this age, the toad swelled ten times its normal size, he shrunk his jumper, his greens turned to sweets, never did his hair change or his eyes...' Grandmother said her concern was obvious now. She was also scared and was looking to the witch for comfort. So that's hay today was all about it had done something very unusual.

'Yes we are quite proud she has a rather unique way of approaching things, but when her father was this age, the toad swelled ten times its normal size, he shrunk his jumper, his greens turned to sweets, never did his hair change or his eyes...' Grandmother said her concern was obvious now. She was also scared and was looking to the witch for comfort. So that's what today was all about, I had done something very unusual.

'This is... Not the usual for young magic... Let me see.' The witch said pulling out a stick, it was a wand somehow at that ripe age of nine I just knew what it was. It was the instrument in which magic was done (unless you were that ferret or that wizard who was just stirring his tea using nothing at all that was pretty cool or that nose crinkling witch can't forget about her). She said some words in a language I couldn't comprehend (and I was fluent in Gaelic) and some light came from the tip of her wand and nothing happened. All that build for nothing to happen I have to say I was completely disappointed.

'Mum I think she might be a metamorphomagus, I remember the stories Tonks had about her younger years.' Bill said looking me over with a perplexed look. I don't know what he just said but it had to be alright after all the cool Bill had said it. I don't know who or what a Tonks is but if they were like me than I guess I am just super special, since they didn't really know what to do about my still blond curly locks (some time during the car ride I had thought about having curly hair and how that was so much cuter).

'Deary, I want you to do something.' The witch asked me on the stern yet soft mother voice that made you want to do it even if it was clean the toilet. I gave her a nod to tell her I was listening. 'Think very clearly about your natural hair and eye colour, focus on that and concentrate and returning to your natural state.' She said and at first I didn't want to. But the looks both she and Bill gave me made me do it. I couldn't let her down or disappoint him, in that moment I desperately wanted to be whatever it was he said I was.

'I think that settles it, she is a metamorphomagus, she has the rare gift of being able to change her appearance at whim, I'll look for a book to help.' The witch said breaking my concentration I looked and she had already gotten up and left the table.

There I sat thinking about what she had just said, I had a rare gift to change my appearance whenever I wanted. I would never need to dye my hair or get a hair cut or anything ever. I could have freckles and then not have them, have cute dimples and have a very grown up look. If there was a fear that Hogwarts (the school my parents attended) wouldn't accept me, it faded. How could they not want me now? I could change everything about how I looked, all I had to do was concentrate.

'Here we are a book for you to read through I hope it helps dear if not send us another owl and I'll see what I can find out.' The witch said handing my grandmother a rather large and heavy looking book. I didn't catch the title of this book but I saw a picture of someone with pink hair.

With that we said our farewells and we climbed back into the car. This car ride didn't seem to be so long after all this was after I had met the wizard and the witch and I had learned I was super special. Throughout the ride home grandmother was telling that there were going to be some new rules, such as no changing my appearance before class, no changing during class or outside, no showing the neighbourhood children what I could do. I was to keep it a secret, so I could only practice indoors as long as I was back to normal before we had company over or before I left. The house. During this time I neglected to tell my grandmother I had fixed my teeth I didn't want to have to get braces after all.

Summer came and Grandmother had finished the book and told me it would do best if I did practice changing my looks, so I was given magazines of different faces and hair styles and I had to practice until I could master that feature, hair colours were the hardest and eyes. Grandmothers rules continued to be a pest throughout the entire summer, how could I practice and play in the garden all summer? It just wasn't possible. Then right after my birthday she gave me the book to read, she said it was so I could understand what it is I am.

Age 10, and I started another year in school, and the only that really changed was the fact that I could change my appearance. The worst part was not being able to tell anyone. When I came time for class photos grandmother refused to let me do anything to my hair, except give it a sleek shine to it. I wanted it to be a brilliant shade of purple but she said no. The only time she let me have my fun was for Halloween she let me have any colour of hair that I wanted and as long as I didn't go crazy I could change my face too. So I made the best of it and was a mermaid princess for Halloween and I won the costume contest.

Besides my ability to change my appearance the other small magical a stuff seemed harmless and very easy to miss. I didn't realize that one day I had magicked the stickers on my shoes to never come off even with water and I had magicked my favourite jumper to grow and extra size so Grandmother couldn't throw it out. I didn't have any rules on that magic and she said it wasn't like I could control it anyways all magical children do small little bits of magic without realizing they were doing it. I thought it was a bit unfair at the time that my face changing had rules but she said I could control it somewhat so it was only fair I that I followed the rules of the magical community.

Nothing big happened until the first of August mere days before my 11th birthday. I had gotten post by owl for the first time, and it happened before I could even finish my waffles (I don't remember what we were celebrating, whatever it was it called for banana nut waffles and sliced banana and banana flavoured whipped cream). I being nearly 11 had smothered it in syrup. I was cutting my waffle when I heard this 'SWOOSH!' And this weird chirping noise. I looked up and there standing on my kitchen table in front of my waffles was a big brown owl. In its beak was a thick envelope. At first I was curious as to how on Earth an owl got into the kitchen. The kitchen window was open (we were in a hot spell and after a week we finally got some wind, I smelt a storm there was always a storm on my birthday).

I looked up at my grandparents and I don't know why but I had expected them to take there being an owl on the kitchen table about as well as they take muddy shoes on the kitchen tile (very very bad). But no there they were calm as day as if owls normally just flew in during breakfast and delivered post. When I looked at Grandmother she had the biggest smile on her face, that smile made me very suspicious, the extra fancy breakfast a few days before my birthday? And that smile added up to she knew I would get this letter today. But how could she know? No one knows exactly when the post arrives.

I reached for the letter and the owl let it go once I had a good grip on it. I looked the front over, it was addressed to me, very specifically it labeled my bedroom location perfectly. I should have been scared but that was so cool. The ink was an emerald green and written in a pen I have never seen before. The writing looked so different, it as like think was in the paper not just on it. The paper was thicker than what I had been accustomed to. The paper my grandmother buys is much thinner and doesn't have the same yellow tinge to it to make it look old. The envelope was secured closed by a blot of crimson wax, in the centre of the coat of arms was an 'H'.

Carefully I pried the envelope open careful not to break the wax or rip the envelope. I pulled out a letter and read it three times before it clicked in my brain. The headmistress Minerva McGonagall had written me a letter telling me I had been accepted into Hogwarts! She said to be on the train at the Dublin train station the first of September, by 9:47 (that's when the train leaves) and that she is expecting my reply no later than August 26th.

I got up and dug around the kitchen junk drawer and found a note pad and a pen and quickly scribbled my response

'Dear Headmistress McGonagall,

I had received your acceptance letter and I would love to attend your school (Hogwarts) and I plan on being on the train before it departs Dublin, thank you for accepting me (although I knew you would after all I am a metamorphomagus and both my parents attended your school).

Signed your newest student,

Siobhan Flynn'

I folded up my response letter and gave it to the owl, the owl took the letter in its beak and launched itself into the air and flew out of the kitchen window without so much as dropping a feather on the table. I watched at it flew off into the horizon until I couldn't see it anymore, I wasn't sure how fast owl post is, the normal post with the post man isn't always the fastest it could take a week to send a letter from Slate to Dublin. I do hope she gets my reply on time, it's not like I sent it the day she wants it by.

I looked back down to the envelope, I was thinking about framing it when I saw a second letter poking out, I pulled it out and read it. It was my supplies list it had quills, and a wand, parchment, a cauldron, inkpots, a brass telescope, a set of scales, robes, potion ingredients, a pointed hat and a long list of textbooks. The sheer number of books made me feel like I was very very behind in this magic business. Then the scary thought of 'What if if I was too far behind all the kids who grew up on a magical home and I got kicked out?'

I was too preoccupied in my panic to realize that at the bottom there was a note. It said I could bring a pet, either a cat, rat or owl (no question there which one I would want) and that first year students are not permitted to bring their own brooms (this one had me stumped so we don't have to clean? I was very okay this as I am a firm believer that cleaning is torture, but why would anyone want to bring their own broom to sweep with?).

Grandmother had taken my book list and the scarlet and golden train ticket and stuck them on the refrigerator for safe keeping. I had to admit that was probably for the best there was a very high chance I would lose both before I woke up tomorrow morning. I did protest her taking my book list, I wanted to go get everything right now and start reading my books. But my Grandmother as very firm in that we were not going to go to London today.