My childhood passed

in a blur of colours,

feelings and smells,

with overwhelming excitement

and joy that weave into my memories.

They encouraged me to read.

I have I a huge sense of nostalgia

when I see an apple tree,

I used to pass hours curled in the roots,

lost in the old pages having adventures,

falling in love and growing up

and most importantly magic.

I didn't know that magic as such was real

until my letter arrived.


Before going to Hogwarts

I thought that magic

was a wonderful good force

that always outweighed the evil.

I only saw it as black and white,

only recently have I seen

all of the shades between.

I know see magic in a negative light,

we do not share with those in need.

We keep it to ourselves.

We manipulate it to suit ourselves

no matter what the consequences are.

Magic has made killing and inflicting pain easier.

We have made it into a almost robotic move.

Without magic killing is usually harder.

You have to feel it strongly enough

to feel the life you are taking with your own hands.

When magic is used,

we often forget that it is a person

at the end of he stick,

as it is so easy.

We can ignore

the look in their eyes

whilst still effectively killing them.

If someone is tortured without magic

you have to be physically in front of them

inflicting the unbearable pain yourself.

You have to watch their face contort in agony,

watch the pain hit and spread like daggers,

you have to hear their screams.

To torture someone with magic

you don't have to be near them,

you don't have to hear their screams continue

until it all becomes too much

and they stop altogether.

Magic makes us see the world from behind a screen,

separate from others,

protected.

It makes us all forget that we are equal.

It distorts that underneath it all we are the same.


I

didn't

know

I

could

do

magic,

until my Hogwarts letter arrived

saying I could.

I hadn't done anything extraordinary.

I was the type of person

who liked things that had

a sense of order.

I'm still like to have everything

worked out in my head.

I most certainly didn't

use magic much.

Looking back

the only time I could have used magic

was in the garden.

Despite our house being small

we had a large garden.

We had fruit trees at the bottom,

a vegetable patch to the right

and many flowers crammed tightly

in the borders,

bursting out,

whilst displaying their rich and intense colours.

I had a knack with plants.

Green fingers as it were.

I could make plant wither and die.

I could make things grow.

When I touch them the

stem twists as it moves upwards.

Buds swell

until the petals escape and settle

showing the rich and intense colours in all their glory.

This

is

what

made

me

believe.

But that something wasn't magic.


Looking at my Hogwarts list,

we were overwhelmed

by the many things I needed.

A heavyweight dropped on top of us when we realised

that it would more than likely

cost an eye watering sum.

I need books for every subject.

School uniform and robes.

When I read that I needed enough quills and ink to last me a year

we laughed out loud.

No one uses quills nowadays!

I needed rolls of parchment,

what is wrong with paper?

The list went on,

I needed a cauldron and supplies. Would Grans old cooking pot count?

We could also have pets;

owls – where do you get them from?

Toads – don't they need water?

A rat- they are vermin that spread infection,

and finally a cat - which sounded more reasonable anyway.


It is surprising

that muggles can come into Diagon Ally

if they know about magic.

They came with me.

The looks we received

were hostile and unwelcome.

We were in awe

of the world we had just stepped into.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

But you had to laugh

at what people were holding, wearing and doing.

We walked up the street

to the large, white building

that stood imposingly on the corner.

It was run by goblins,

who were small and ugly

who exchanged a few notes for a bag of coins.

I got my wand first.

They said I needed a new one,

as it was what

magic was all about.

I was measured,

calculations were made

before the first wand was chosen .

Nothing happened.

I was worried

that this was all a joke.

That I wasn't actually a witch.

He said not to worry.

He gave me another one,

and another

until one shot out a bunch of flowers.

He told us

"that is unusual, very unusual.

It is the first one and only one

of those I have made.

Some say that it doesn't work

however you have proved them wrong.

It is very rare,

said to be linked

to old magic.

The wood is from

an apple tree,

that has seen the world

for many, many years.

I think you will be

a

wise

one,

dear girl."

Meanwhile the Burns

were just watching on,

with grins that spread across their faces.

We paid for the wand

and left the shop,

thanking the man as we went.

I gave one of my flowers to him

and the rest to the Burns

who gazed more lovingly at me.

We did not buy

the rest of my supplies

on the busy main street.

We went off into the side ones

that were tired and old looking.

There was the odd person

wandering about

muttering to themselves

and a few families doing the same as us

as the main street was too expensive.

We went into the robe shop first.

The plump lady smiled as she said "Hogwarts robes?"

My aunt told her yes.

The lady ushered me forward

whilst she used her wand

to measure me.

" I take it your new

to this whole magical world,

anyway we are half the price

of anywhere else.

turn around dear"

she flicked her wand,

clothes came flying from the corner.

Magical pins

fit them too me.

She was talking to my uncle

about where to get the rest of my supplies along this street

whilst Aunty was watching

the pins and moving scissors

with narrowed eyes.

" 'Course nothing's been the same

since the war"

she saw our expressions

then hastily added

" it was against Death Eaters,

led by a man called Voldemort,

they believed in blood purity.

Wanted to get rid of

muggleborns,

half-bloods

and those who liked muggles.

Basically they only wanted people

who were from long lines

of magical families.

Who have nothing to do

with non- magical people,

so they killed ' em.

Loads of old families

supported them,

like ...

the... tryn' ta think of the top of me head...

the Avery's,

the Nott's,

Lestrange's

and the Rowle's

to name a few."

She handed us a bag

with the clothes,

neatly folded in.

She hadn't noticed

that we were all silent.

Out in the street,

they said they were sorry

they didn't know

and tell me.

I was silent.

We went into the next shop.

I bought a second hand cauldron

and a trunk that extended.

My initials were magically printed on

whilst my potion supplies,

ink, quills and parchment

were gathered.

The last shop

was the book shop.

The sign above the door read affordable books new and old.

My school books

were collected

by the assistant.

My uncle and I

looked at the

second- hand books.

The titles were

bizarre

and intriguing,

mentioning strange names,

wars and rebellions.

He got me a fair few

and a couple for himself.

As we paid

the shop keeper commented

on our books,

telling us

what they were about

and what was good

about them.

The total was

surprisingly low considering

that two of my aunts heavy duty shopping bags

were full.


On the train home

we sat quietly.

Tired from the day.

The sound of

Uncle turning the page to a book accompanied the sound

of my aunt's steady knitting.

I wondered

if they loved me any less.

That night

they came into my room

to say goodnight.

They said they

have had a lovely day.

That the world I am going into

is incredible.

That I will do them proud.

They told me

I was my own person

and had nothing to do

with what my parents had done.

They told me

I was not my parents

as they turned out the light

and said,

May the angels look after and care for you.

As I lay there, I told myself

I

am

not

my

parents.