In the Wizarding world, there will always be those who regard Muggle-borns
as inferior, born of dirty blood. Despite this rampant prejudice, Muggle-
borns continue to grow and learn, just as powerful, if not more, than the
average wizard. In the history of Hogwarts, there have been ten Muggle-born
witches who have defied the odds and surpassed the norm, and played an
important part in the history of the Wizarding world. This is their story,
a tale of each of them sharing the sunlight with the free...
SHARING THE SUNLIGHT WITH THE FREE - THE DAWN
Prologue
The verdict came. A shocked gasp from just outside the room, where her siblings were peeping. Her parents fearfully kept their eyes carefully averted. And she, innocent seven-year-old as she was, stared wide-eyed at the witch-hunter. Even at seven she knew what those words meant.
The witch-hunter's eyes were narrowed.
'Burnt at the stake,' he hissed.
Witch burnings were always well-attended. It was amazing, how the villagers took sadistic pleasure in watching their own kind perish in flames.
It was to be her turn now.
She was silent, paralyzed in shock. It was taken as calm - 'She knows it won't hurt her,' the people whispered.
But no. She was terrified. She would die, for sure, in those horrible flames. They had tied her to the stake already. The witch-hunter leered at her, the blazing stick in his hands.
'Do not fear.'
Who said that? Certainly not the witch-hunter. A voice, in her head. It distracted her; she did not see the lightning that struck, swiftly, incinerating the stake. The ropes binding her fell, loose, to the ground.
'It is a sign! It is a sign!' yelled the witch-hunter. 'She called upon the devil to save her!'
She had not - how could she have? She was not a witch. She could not explain any of this, any more than the villagers could.
One thing was clear to her. She must get away, away from these people who would kill her, accuse her to be what she was not.
She ran.
'Catch her!' ordered the witch-hunter. 'Catch the witch! Catch the witch!'
The chase was on. They were all after her. The whole village, led by the witch-hunter, his eyes bulging, ablaze with hatred. It is he that is the evil one, she thought, not me. And he would catch her, and she would die. Innocent, she would die.
'No. You will not.'
Again, this voice. She knew not where it came from, nor why she trusted it. But she saw clearly, she would escape. It was not her time to die, not now.
Just behind her, a wall of flame rose. She could hear the cries of the villagers. Rage. She was getting away. She dared not look back.
Screams. No longer anger. Terror! She turned.
The village was burning down.
SHARING THE SUNLIGHT WITH THE FREE - THE DAWN
Prologue
The verdict came. A shocked gasp from just outside the room, where her siblings were peeping. Her parents fearfully kept their eyes carefully averted. And she, innocent seven-year-old as she was, stared wide-eyed at the witch-hunter. Even at seven she knew what those words meant.
The witch-hunter's eyes were narrowed.
'Burnt at the stake,' he hissed.
Witch burnings were always well-attended. It was amazing, how the villagers took sadistic pleasure in watching their own kind perish in flames.
It was to be her turn now.
She was silent, paralyzed in shock. It was taken as calm - 'She knows it won't hurt her,' the people whispered.
But no. She was terrified. She would die, for sure, in those horrible flames. They had tied her to the stake already. The witch-hunter leered at her, the blazing stick in his hands.
'Do not fear.'
Who said that? Certainly not the witch-hunter. A voice, in her head. It distracted her; she did not see the lightning that struck, swiftly, incinerating the stake. The ropes binding her fell, loose, to the ground.
'It is a sign! It is a sign!' yelled the witch-hunter. 'She called upon the devil to save her!'
She had not - how could she have? She was not a witch. She could not explain any of this, any more than the villagers could.
One thing was clear to her. She must get away, away from these people who would kill her, accuse her to be what she was not.
She ran.
'Catch her!' ordered the witch-hunter. 'Catch the witch! Catch the witch!'
The chase was on. They were all after her. The whole village, led by the witch-hunter, his eyes bulging, ablaze with hatred. It is he that is the evil one, she thought, not me. And he would catch her, and she would die. Innocent, she would die.
'No. You will not.'
Again, this voice. She knew not where it came from, nor why she trusted it. But she saw clearly, she would escape. It was not her time to die, not now.
Just behind her, a wall of flame rose. She could hear the cries of the villagers. Rage. She was getting away. She dared not look back.
Screams. No longer anger. Terror! She turned.
The village was burning down.