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.
