In his whole life, David Cohen had never been anything other than average. He was of
average height and build, if a little scrawny. He had average brown hair with average brown
eyes. He did the average ammount of sports at school and got average grades. The only thing
not average about him was the fact that out of the entire English village of Scottersdale,
he was the only Jewish childnd his was the only Jewish family.
His family were not very observant, but they had Shabbat dinner every Friday night,
and he was forbidden from spending money on Saturdays. At school, many of his
friends knew that he was Jewish, but to most of them, this was insignificant.
Most, except for a gang at school, led by a boy named Sheldon Perkins,
who was an arch-antisemite and detested David for no reason bar his Judiasm.
He was a huge boy who lorded his largeness over everyone else by beating the unfair
truth of the fact into them, punch by bloody punch.
David was walking home from the miniscule school located at the outskirts of the village,
when Sheldon and his cronies caught up with him.
"Whatya think you're doin' Jew-boy?" Sneered Sheldon. His thugs laughed menacingly.
David tried to ignore him and carried on walking.
"I said, what the fuck do you think you are doin'?" Sheldon snarled, as he caught David on
the shoulder and wheeled him around to face him.
As if talking to a very young child or someone emmensely stupid, David said, "What dya think,
moron, I'm trying to avoid idiots spitting in my face on my way home."
Sheldon's lip curled, revealing unbrushed, yellow teeth. "It looks to me like the dirty Jew
doesn't know that this is a filth-free town, and that he's disobeying that rule by being
alive."
The cronies laughed loudly. David tried to walk away, but Sheldon had a good grip on him.
He tried to move the bigger boy's hand, and Sheldon caught it in his other hand and wrenched
the arm so that it was twisted half way round. David's eyes were hard as he said, "Let. Me.
Go." in short grunts on pain. Suddenly Sheldon let go of his hand and let out a yell. David
just got a look at his hand before one of Perkins's thugs, a boy named Robert came up and
punched David in the eye. The others all followed suit by punching and kicking him, until he
fell down in a heap. Their work done, they ran away, leaving the unconcious boy sprawled on
the street.
He regained conciousness about a half hour later, one image burned into his incoherent mind.
Sheldon's hand looked as if it had been burned. He managed to hobble home slowly. He felt
like he had been tenderised and could already feel a spectacular bruise forming
on his eye. Just great, he thought to himself, and wondered how he would explain the bruises
to his parents.
When he got home, his parents were not there. He wondered at this, as he ate a sandwich he
had found in the fridge. He HAD come home much later than usual. Perhaps they were out
looking for him. Or perhaps they were out at a friends.
Knowing them, they were probably worried sick.
He made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and clean up. As he brushed his teeth,
he looked at himself in the mirror. He barely recognised himself. His one eye was nearly
swolen shut and was a horrible puce. He had a cut lip and bruises where the bastards had
kicked especially hard. He gingerly touched his eye and winced. There was an ointment, he
knew, for bruises. What was it agian...oh yes, arnica lotion. He rummaged around in the
medicine cabinet behind the mirror and liberally spead arnica on all the hurt parts. He
was going to feel just WONDERFUL tommorow, he thought glumly.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, he looked at himself again, the swelling had marginally decreased.
"Mom? Dad? Anybody home?" He yelled. On Saturday mornings his parents usually had a prayer
service, but it was already nearly noon, so it would be over already. It was the beginning
of summer holidays soon... he couldn't wait.
No answer from his parents, so he assumed that they were out.
Later in the day, he heard the door opening and footsteps trudging into the kitchen.
He went to the kitchen to see his father looking at the contents of the fridge.
His father was a middle aged, balding man who ran a small business in the village.
"David, there you are!" His happy smile faded as he caught sight of the black eye and split
lip. "What happened to you?" he exclaimed.
"I...I fell." David said, unconvincing even in his own ears.
"Sure you did..." His father trailed off.
After an akuard pause, he said, "Mail arrived, something for you in the pile."
He indicated the heap of letters on the diningroom table.
For David... who would be sendind him mail?
Perhaps it was an anonymous aunt or relative who wanted to pay for him to go to a school
outside his crummy town.
He went to the pile and immediately saw an interesting envelpoe which stood out from the
other bills' plain, monotonous white.
The envelope was yellow, inscribed with green ink on the front was the address:
Mr David Cohen
The 2nd bedroom on the right
12 Rodeyo Drive
Scottersdale
England
He studied the wax seal a while before opening it. After a lengthy silence, his father said,
"Well, are you going to open it, or what?"
Slowly, he broke the wax seal and eased open the envelope. The letter was written on
parchment in the same green ink, and it read:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy
------------------------------------------
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards.)
Dear Mr Cohen
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
David stared at the letter for about five minutes, trying to decide if this was some kind
of joke.
"What is it??" asked his father.
Wordlessly, he handed the letter to his father, who read it once, twice, three times before
saying, "I always suspected that you were magically gifted..."
David's head snapped up in startlement "What?" He exclaimed
"There is something that I should tell you. Your grandmother, my mother, was a witch.
And I," He continued heavily,"was a squib"
"A WHAT?"
"A person who has no magic even though his parents do. In the magical world everyone pities squibs, so I decided to swear
off magic and Wizards alike. I wanted nothing to do with anything magical, so I fell in
love with a muggle-"
"A WHAT?"
"A non-magic person"
"Oh"
"Anyway, I fell in love with a muggle and foreswore having comminication with the magical
community."
David was stunned. He had never even suspected that there was a thing as magic, let alone
that his Grandmother is a witch.
"That is why I made arrangements should my children turn up as wizards. It would be best
for you if you had some sort of magical atmosphere to help you adjust to your studies. How
would you like to spend summer holidays with your grandmother and school holidays with us?"
"Have you discussed this with mother?"
"Yes, yes."
"Give me a day to think about it..." David felt as though his world had been turned upside
down.
"However long you need, son."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
average height and build, if a little scrawny. He had average brown hair with average brown
eyes. He did the average ammount of sports at school and got average grades. The only thing
not average about him was the fact that out of the entire English village of Scottersdale,
he was the only Jewish childnd his was the only Jewish family.
His family were not very observant, but they had Shabbat dinner every Friday night,
and he was forbidden from spending money on Saturdays. At school, many of his
friends knew that he was Jewish, but to most of them, this was insignificant.
Most, except for a gang at school, led by a boy named Sheldon Perkins,
who was an arch-antisemite and detested David for no reason bar his Judiasm.
He was a huge boy who lorded his largeness over everyone else by beating the unfair
truth of the fact into them, punch by bloody punch.
David was walking home from the miniscule school located at the outskirts of the village,
when Sheldon and his cronies caught up with him.
"Whatya think you're doin' Jew-boy?" Sneered Sheldon. His thugs laughed menacingly.
David tried to ignore him and carried on walking.
"I said, what the fuck do you think you are doin'?" Sheldon snarled, as he caught David on
the shoulder and wheeled him around to face him.
As if talking to a very young child or someone emmensely stupid, David said, "What dya think,
moron, I'm trying to avoid idiots spitting in my face on my way home."
Sheldon's lip curled, revealing unbrushed, yellow teeth. "It looks to me like the dirty Jew
doesn't know that this is a filth-free town, and that he's disobeying that rule by being
alive."
The cronies laughed loudly. David tried to walk away, but Sheldon had a good grip on him.
He tried to move the bigger boy's hand, and Sheldon caught it in his other hand and wrenched
the arm so that it was twisted half way round. David's eyes were hard as he said, "Let. Me.
Go." in short grunts on pain. Suddenly Sheldon let go of his hand and let out a yell. David
just got a look at his hand before one of Perkins's thugs, a boy named Robert came up and
punched David in the eye. The others all followed suit by punching and kicking him, until he
fell down in a heap. Their work done, they ran away, leaving the unconcious boy sprawled on
the street.
He regained conciousness about a half hour later, one image burned into his incoherent mind.
Sheldon's hand looked as if it had been burned. He managed to hobble home slowly. He felt
like he had been tenderised and could already feel a spectacular bruise forming
on his eye. Just great, he thought to himself, and wondered how he would explain the bruises
to his parents.
When he got home, his parents were not there. He wondered at this, as he ate a sandwich he
had found in the fridge. He HAD come home much later than usual. Perhaps they were out
looking for him. Or perhaps they were out at a friends.
Knowing them, they were probably worried sick.
He made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and clean up. As he brushed his teeth,
he looked at himself in the mirror. He barely recognised himself. His one eye was nearly
swolen shut and was a horrible puce. He had a cut lip and bruises where the bastards had
kicked especially hard. He gingerly touched his eye and winced. There was an ointment, he
knew, for bruises. What was it agian...oh yes, arnica lotion. He rummaged around in the
medicine cabinet behind the mirror and liberally spead arnica on all the hurt parts. He
was going to feel just WONDERFUL tommorow, he thought glumly.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, he looked at himself again, the swelling had marginally decreased.
"Mom? Dad? Anybody home?" He yelled. On Saturday mornings his parents usually had a prayer
service, but it was already nearly noon, so it would be over already. It was the beginning
of summer holidays soon... he couldn't wait.
No answer from his parents, so he assumed that they were out.
Later in the day, he heard the door opening and footsteps trudging into the kitchen.
He went to the kitchen to see his father looking at the contents of the fridge.
His father was a middle aged, balding man who ran a small business in the village.
"David, there you are!" His happy smile faded as he caught sight of the black eye and split
lip. "What happened to you?" he exclaimed.
"I...I fell." David said, unconvincing even in his own ears.
"Sure you did..." His father trailed off.
After an akuard pause, he said, "Mail arrived, something for you in the pile."
He indicated the heap of letters on the diningroom table.
For David... who would be sendind him mail?
Perhaps it was an anonymous aunt or relative who wanted to pay for him to go to a school
outside his crummy town.
He went to the pile and immediately saw an interesting envelpoe which stood out from the
other bills' plain, monotonous white.
The envelope was yellow, inscribed with green ink on the front was the address:
Mr David Cohen
The 2nd bedroom on the right
12 Rodeyo Drive
Scottersdale
England
He studied the wax seal a while before opening it. After a lengthy silence, his father said,
"Well, are you going to open it, or what?"
Slowly, he broke the wax seal and eased open the envelope. The letter was written on
parchment in the same green ink, and it read:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy
------------------------------------------
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards.)
Dear Mr Cohen
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
David stared at the letter for about five minutes, trying to decide if this was some kind
of joke.
"What is it??" asked his father.
Wordlessly, he handed the letter to his father, who read it once, twice, three times before
saying, "I always suspected that you were magically gifted..."
David's head snapped up in startlement "What?" He exclaimed
"There is something that I should tell you. Your grandmother, my mother, was a witch.
And I," He continued heavily,"was a squib"
"A WHAT?"
"A person who has no magic even though his parents do. In the magical world everyone pities squibs, so I decided to swear
off magic and Wizards alike. I wanted nothing to do with anything magical, so I fell in
love with a muggle-"
"A WHAT?"
"A non-magic person"
"Oh"
"Anyway, I fell in love with a muggle and foreswore having comminication with the magical
community."
David was stunned. He had never even suspected that there was a thing as magic, let alone
that his Grandmother is a witch.
"That is why I made arrangements should my children turn up as wizards. It would be best
for you if you had some sort of magical atmosphere to help you adjust to your studies. How
would you like to spend summer holidays with your grandmother and school holidays with us?"
"Have you discussed this with mother?"
"Yes, yes."
"Give me a day to think about it..." David felt as though his world had been turned upside
down.
"However long you need, son."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------