Terrence Horatio Boot had always lived with his Grandparents in their cozy cottage in the Devonshire countryside, and that was how he preferred to remember it.
His grandmother, Nancy, loved to have him help her during the warm months in her expansive garden in the backyard, and Derrick, Terry's Grandfather, loved to have him around to talk about manly things, such as recent sporting events or who was moving into the farm down the road.
Terry loved his grandparents very much, and that was why he never asked them questions about their daughter, his mother, or her adventures in the wide world. If he did manage to tread on that dread subject, Nancy's mouth would go thin, Derrick would fiddle with his newspaper, and both of them would try to change the subject. It's not that they didn't want Terry to know about his parents, but his mother had been their one and only, and it still hurt to think about the accident that had occurred eleven years before.
Derrick and Nancy Smith lived a quiet life in the country, hardly getting any Muggle mail, and the owl post was few and far between. They had friends in the small village close to their house, but not the kind of friends that they would call on. Acquaintances, Nancy would call them if she spoke about them at all. The Smiths weren't unfriendly, just private people in their old age.
When one June morning an owl swooped onto the front porch while Nancy was doing some knitting, she was very curious, and wondered who was roused enough to send an owl out to them. The Hogwart's crest gave it all away.
"Terry!" Nancy called out the back door to him. He had been watering some of the more pathetic looking flowers in her garden. The summer heat was getting a bit much for a few of the more frail variety.
"What is it?" he called back, putting down the watering can and heading toward the house.
Nancy was handing Terry the letter as Derrick came into the room.
"Well, well," he said quietly, fiddling with his glasses. "I was never quite sure if you were bound for Hogwarts at all."
Naturally, Terry had heard all about Hogwart's from his grandparents, as they liked to talk about their school days, fondly remembering the time when they had little worries and were young.
Terry read through his letter, and looked at his grandparents. "Can I go?" he asked breathlessly. He had thought about Hogwarts, of course, but so used to disappointment in his young life, he had never imagined going.
Nancy and Derrick looked at one another, and there were frowns tugging at the corners of their mouths. It was going to be expensive, and they weren't sure they had the money. Raising another child in their retirement had taken most of their funds, but they never regretted it, no sir. They just saved and pinched their wallets, and did the best they could, which was enough to get by. It wasn't enough, however, to send their grandson away to school.
"I'll get a job!" Terry declared, reading the expressions perfectly on his grandparent's faces.
"Where?" Derrick asked Terry, not too unkindly. "There's no where close that would hire an eleven year old to work for them, Terry."
The three of them sat around the kitchen table, staring at the invitation before them.
"Let your grandfather and me think about, Terry," Nancy said finally, giving Terry a small smile. Terry knew what that meant, but he was resigned to it.
It would be no to Hogwarts for Terry Boot.
It was August when the visitor arrived on the front steps of the Smith residence. When Nancy opened the door, she was met with a tall, blond haired man, who had one sleeve of his shirt rolled up and stitched at his shoulder.
"Good afternoon," he said with a Scottish accent. "Are you Mrs. Derrick Smith?"
"That I am," Nancy said, wiping her hands on her apron. "What can I do for you, Mr…?"
"Mr. Kettleburn," he said, extending his good hand. "Professor Kettleburn, actually, Ma'am, from Hogwarts."
"Oh," Nancy said quietly. "Would you like to come in?"
"Thank you," Professor Kettleburn said, stepping into the cool shade of the cottage.
Nancy got Derrick and Terry, and settled everyone in at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and some biscuits.
"We were all very surprised when we didn't receive Terry's letter by the required time," Professor Kettleburn finally began.
"Yes," said Derrick, putting down his cup. "Of course, we want Terry to get the best education possible. We'd send him to Hogwarts, if it were possible…," Derrick trailed off.
"Dumbledore is aware of the problem concerning Terry's education," Professor Kettleburn told the Smiths. "Given the circumstances, you've done more than enough. No one expected Rowena and Egberth to just…yes, well, Albus Dumbledore is prepared to give Terry a full scholarship to Hogwarts. Books, wands, even a pet, I'm told, if he wants one. We'd like to see Terry grow up into a first class wizard, like his mother," Professor Kettleburn finished quickly, noticing the choked up expression on Nancy's face.
"That's very kind of him," Derrick said, clearing his throat. "Kind man, Dumbledore."
"Yes, sir, he is," Professor Kettleburn said. He produced some papers from his coat pocket. "This is a list of things that Terry will need. When you purchase them, just tell the wizard behind the counter to put it on the "Chocolate Frog" account."
Professor Kettleburn stayed to exchange a few minutes of pleasantries with the Smiths, and then he took his leave.
"Well, Terry," Derrick said, looking at the list. "It looks like you're going to Hogwarts."
"We can go into London tomorrow to get your things," Nancy said. "I haven't been to the city in such a long time."
But no one was more excited than Terry.
The next day they arrived at Diagon Alley late in the morning. They got Terry his books, paper and quills, a wand (nine inches, moonstone powder core), school robes, and a cat, who Terry named Gouger on account of his unintentional hurtful playfulness.
The rest of the summer crept by until his grandparents took him to Kings Cross Station, and said their goodbyes. Suddenly, Terry got a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn't want to leave the little cottage in the country, and that he would be perfectly fine staying with his grandparents forever.
"Butterflies in your stomach?" Derrick asked, noticing the somewhat panicked look on Terry's face.
"A bit," Terry said, putting a hand to his belly.
"It'll pass. You'll love school," Derrick told his grandson with confidence.
"Hogwarts is a wonderful place," Nancy said, giving Terry one last hug as the locomotive gave a last whistle blast.
Terry clambered aboard with Gouger and his trunk, and tried to find a lone compartment where he could sit and think. Eventually, he settled on one in which two girls were sitting and talking quietly. It was peaceful compared to the rest of the train.
"Hello!" Terry said, bending a little under the weight of his trunk and cat. "Mind if I sit with you two?"
"Not at all!" said the red haired girl.
"Let me help you with that," the black haired girl offered, taking Terry's trunk from him and stowing it above.
"Mind if I see your cat?" the red haired girl asked.
"Not at all," Terry said, passing him over to her.
"What's his name?" she asked, stroking the cat's tabby stripes.
"Gouger," Terry said, and laughed at the girl's startled expression. "He's just playful," he added. "I'm Terry Boot, by the way."
"Mandy Brocklehurst," the red haired girl said. "And this is Lisa Turpin. Our parents went to school together at Hogwarts. They were in Ravenclaw."
"Mine too," Terry said, and Lisa nodded.
"I know," she said.
The train began to pull out of the station, so the conversation was dropped as the two girls waved frantically to their parents on the platform. Terry squeezed into the little gap between them to see if he could spy his grandparents, but he couldn't. Dejected, he sat back down.
Eventually, Terry must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up, they were just miles from Hogwarts, and Lisa was shaking his shoulder and saying, "You'd better change, Terry."
Terry pulled on his school robes, and was one of the first in line off the train and onto the dark station's platform. Above them, Hogwarts loomed a bit ominously.
"First years, over here!" a voice boomed above the crowd, and Terry looked up to see a giant man waving the first years over to the side of the lake.
When he got over to the crowd of other first years, someone bumped his shoulder a bit heavily, almost sending him to the ground.
"So sorry!" the boy said, helping Terry to get his balance again.
"Not a problem," Terry said, smiling. "I usually do that to myself a lot."
"I'm Harry Potter," the boy said, sticking out his hand.
"Terry Boot," Terry said, extending his hand.
Terry had heard of Harry, naturally, but he was surprised and rather pleased to see that Harry knew nothing of his past or his parents.
The first years clambered into boats, which took them across the lake and to the castle. Everyone else took horseless carriages up the winding slope to the main gate. Terry shared his boat with Mandy, Lisa, and a boy named Anthony Goldstein.
They disembarked on the shore, and walked up to the large front door where a stern looking woman met them. She lead them into a front hall of sorts, and told them to wait there while she got everything ready.
In the hall were a few large mirrors, and people were nervously looking at their appearances in them. Terry looked at himself, and then tried to flatten his straggly blond hair, which had somehow managed to fall in a haphazard way over his blue eyes. A summer of working in the garden had really brought out his freckles, and Terry wished he had watched a little bit more TV with his grandfather.
There was a lot of whispering and giggling going on in the hall as the time crept by, but then suddenly the doors were opened, and they were all lead out to the Sorting ceremony, as Terry heard it announced.
On a three legged stool sat a hat, which sang a song about the different houses at Hogwarts, though Terry was a bit too nervous to pay attention. The names were read out in alphabetically order, and soon "Boot, Terry" was announced.
He heard the whisperings as he sat on the three legged stool, but they were drowned out when the hat was plunked on his head.
"Terry Boot, eh?" the hat whispered to him. "I know what to do with your lot."
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted to the entire school, and Terry got off the stool and walked to the Ravenclaw table, where there were a good many pats on the back and exclamations of "good job!" and "well done!".
There were speeches and a feast afterward, but Terry was really tired after his long day. He wasn't used to so many people, or seeing so many new things, that it wore him out, and to be honest, made him a bit nervous.
As he was getting in line with the rest of the first year Ravenclaws (Lisa, Mandy, and Anthony were included), a hand descended on his shoulder. He looked up into the bright, sparkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore.
"Well done, Terry," he said kindly. "Good luck at Hogwarts."
As Dumbledore moved away, the prefect breathed, "Wow. He's never said two words to me." Terry just nodded, amazed that he should be so deferred to by the greatest wizard of his time.
"Terrence Boot," a high pitched voice called.
"Yes?" Terry asked, as the small wizard came toward him.
"I'm Professor Flitwick, your head of house," the man explained. "If you'll follow me, please."
Terry blushed a bright pink, and told Lisa and Mandy that he'd see them upstairs.
"I'm sorry that I had to draw you out like that," Professor Flitwick said.
"Don't worry," Terry cut him off from saying more. "I'm used to it by now."
Terry was lead to a large, gilded box that sat in an alcove off to the side of the staircases. "Good luck at Hogwarts," Professor Flitwick said, nodding at Terry.
Terry stepped into the elevator and when prompted, told the golden box that he wanted to go to the Ravenclaw common room.
Sometimes, thought Terry, I wish I were different.
But what boy with a missing right leg doesn't wish that from time to time?
As Terry leaned on his crutches and maneuvered down the hall to the waiting prefect, he remembered the last thing Professor Kettleburn had said to him before he left the house.
"You'll be the first crippled wizard at Hogwarts in over a century, Terry. That's nothing to be ashamed of."
'But sometimes', Terry thought, blushing, a tear creeping unwanted down his cheek, as his crutches made a clink, chink sound in the almost empty hallway, 'it's hard to not to be.'