AUTHOR'S NOTES: I will address individual reviews for the previous
chapter at the bottom of each chapter. Therefore, at the bottom of this
chapter, you will find my responses to the reviews of the prologue.
This chapter is not one-hundred percent complete. I'm not quite satisfied with how it turned out, so it may eventually be updated to explain the situation better (and maybe work around all the exposition), but the essential information will remain the same.
CHAPTER ONE
What Is A Squib?
A pair of eyelids snapped open. After a moment of adjustment to the morning light, hazel eyes steadily surveyed their surroundings. Caitlin was filled relief to see that she was not in an intensive care unit. In fact, she assumed she was not even in a normal hospital room, if the lack of medical machines and the presence of several non-hospital-like beds was any indication.
"Thank you," Caitlin whispered, her eyes training up to the ceiling. At least her calm surroundings and the fact that she was not being monitored by machines indicated she had not been mortally wounded.
A soft snort came from the end of her bed. Caitlin slowly sat up, noting that the pounding headache that had been a daily presence in her life for five years now was nowhere to be felt. She looked past her feet to see a mass of dishwater-blond curls pooled at the end of the bed. It was her mother, snoring.
Caitlin smiled gently and felt her lips crack; she needed water. Looking around, she discovered a full glass of water on a small nightstand to her right. She reached for the glass, and as her hand grasped firmly onto the cold vessel, a strange rush flowed through her veins. In an instant, the world seemed to change.
She now stood at the foot of the bed, gazing with fear and fascination at the sight of herself lying under the sheets. She looked down, patted her stomach, and snapped her head back up. What in the world?!
It was night now, too. Her mother, instead of snoring to kingdom come, was sitting awake beside the bed, her left hand clasped gently in Caitlin's, and her right hand gripped firmly around the very same water glass that Caitlin had just touched. She was softly singing an Irish lullaby as she rocked slowly back and forth in her chair.
The entrancing moment was shattered when the door at the far end of the room opened and let in light from a wide hallway. A tall silhouette moved carefully into the light and entered the room. As the figure drew nearer, it raised an arm. At the end, grasped in a slender but strong hand, was a long... stick?
A soft, gentle voice murmured, "Lumos."
Immediately, light emitted from the tip of the stick, which Caitlin could now see looked like an unpainted magician's wand. The lightening of the figure's face revealed gentle blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, a long white beard, and a smile that matched the twinkle in the man's gaze.
"Hello."
Caitlin's mother reacted instantly in surprise, then excitement, at the man's voice. She bolted out of her chair and practically assaulted the man with a bear hug. "Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore chuckled melodically. "It's wonderful to see you again, Dena, my dear. It's been quite a long time, has it not?"
Dena nodded as she disengaged her embrace. "I'm so glad you could come. I--I don't know what's going on... what's happening."
Dumbledore laid a hand gently on Dena's shoulder. "I have spoken with the healers, and they have explained to me Caitlin's situation. I believe you may want to take a seat."
Caitlin wished she too could sit as she watched her mother wearily find her way back to the side of Caitlin's bed. Dumbledore sat on the edge of the bed. Folding his hands in his lap, he began. "Caitlin is not a squib."
Dena raised an eyebrow; Caitlin raised two. What in the world was a squib?
"How is that possible?" Dena questioned. "I thought squibs could not gain magical powers they don't already have."
"They cannot. You see, we have known for a while that being a magical person is genetic, but only recently have we learned how. There is a large portion of a human's brain the purpose of which has never been determined by Muggle doctors. It has, however, been discovered by our own healers that this piece of the brain holds the key to magical powers. Muggle doctors have adopted the term 'dead zone' to refer to this usually inactive portion of the brain. But it is only inactive in Muggles. Wizards have an active zone the purpose of which we now know, so we have coined a more appropriate term--Magithallus."
"That's all very interesting," Dena interjected, "but it doesn't explain how my daughter isn't a squib."
"You know that a squib is a being with no magical powers born to one or two magical people. Apparently, the more non-magical ancestry a person has, the more likely they are to be a squib. Squibs essentially have an inactive Magithallus.
Caitlin, being born of one pureblood and one muggle had the potential to be a squib, but instead, it turned out she was born quite the opposite. She had a fully developed Magithallus that was one-hundred percent active, which is rare, as most wizards operate at only forty-percent. The problem was that she had a connection loose, inhibiting her ability to access her magical powers.
The head trauma from the accident has caused whatever 'wires' that were loose to, in a sense, 'jiggle' into place. She now has full access to her Magithallus."
Dean leaned back in her chair and glanced over at the still form under the sheets. "What does this all mean for her now?"
"I am arranging to have Caitlin attend Hogwarts."
Dena looked at him curiously. "Isn't she too old?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Of course not. She's just a late developer. But, to ease any worries she may have about being surrounded by such young students, I will be keeping her learning private, and she shall take on the position of Muggle Studies professor."
Chuckling, Dena grasped the pale hand that lay still on the bed. "She'll love that. She has always loved teaching people about how things work."
Dumbledore stood and began making his way to the door. "I must be going. There is a world of work ahead of us."
As he reached the door, he halted. Turning to face Dena once more, he added, "You may be in for a bit of a shock when she wakes. We do not know exactly what that other sixty-percent of the Magithallus is capable of doing."
The moment Dumbledore's foot stepped outside the room, the rush took over Caitlin once more. Suddenly, it was morning again, the birds were chirping, and Caitlin's abnormally absent headache had suddenly returned. It had returned so much so, in fact, that she doubled over in pain as she grabbed at her skull.
This was going to be a very interesting day.
-----------------------------------
Review Responses--Prologue
JediMaster16: Thanks for your compliments! Sorry it's taken so long to update. I'm currently suffering a major writer's/artistic/creative block, so thankfully, I already had the first chapter or so handwritten a few months ago, and I only needed to type it up.
This chapter is not one-hundred percent complete. I'm not quite satisfied with how it turned out, so it may eventually be updated to explain the situation better (and maybe work around all the exposition), but the essential information will remain the same.
CHAPTER ONE
What Is A Squib?
A pair of eyelids snapped open. After a moment of adjustment to the morning light, hazel eyes steadily surveyed their surroundings. Caitlin was filled relief to see that she was not in an intensive care unit. In fact, she assumed she was not even in a normal hospital room, if the lack of medical machines and the presence of several non-hospital-like beds was any indication.
"Thank you," Caitlin whispered, her eyes training up to the ceiling. At least her calm surroundings and the fact that she was not being monitored by machines indicated she had not been mortally wounded.
A soft snort came from the end of her bed. Caitlin slowly sat up, noting that the pounding headache that had been a daily presence in her life for five years now was nowhere to be felt. She looked past her feet to see a mass of dishwater-blond curls pooled at the end of the bed. It was her mother, snoring.
Caitlin smiled gently and felt her lips crack; she needed water. Looking around, she discovered a full glass of water on a small nightstand to her right. She reached for the glass, and as her hand grasped firmly onto the cold vessel, a strange rush flowed through her veins. In an instant, the world seemed to change.
She now stood at the foot of the bed, gazing with fear and fascination at the sight of herself lying under the sheets. She looked down, patted her stomach, and snapped her head back up. What in the world?!
It was night now, too. Her mother, instead of snoring to kingdom come, was sitting awake beside the bed, her left hand clasped gently in Caitlin's, and her right hand gripped firmly around the very same water glass that Caitlin had just touched. She was softly singing an Irish lullaby as she rocked slowly back and forth in her chair.
The entrancing moment was shattered when the door at the far end of the room opened and let in light from a wide hallway. A tall silhouette moved carefully into the light and entered the room. As the figure drew nearer, it raised an arm. At the end, grasped in a slender but strong hand, was a long... stick?
A soft, gentle voice murmured, "Lumos."
Immediately, light emitted from the tip of the stick, which Caitlin could now see looked like an unpainted magician's wand. The lightening of the figure's face revealed gentle blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, a long white beard, and a smile that matched the twinkle in the man's gaze.
"Hello."
Caitlin's mother reacted instantly in surprise, then excitement, at the man's voice. She bolted out of her chair and practically assaulted the man with a bear hug. "Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore chuckled melodically. "It's wonderful to see you again, Dena, my dear. It's been quite a long time, has it not?"
Dena nodded as she disengaged her embrace. "I'm so glad you could come. I--I don't know what's going on... what's happening."
Dumbledore laid a hand gently on Dena's shoulder. "I have spoken with the healers, and they have explained to me Caitlin's situation. I believe you may want to take a seat."
Caitlin wished she too could sit as she watched her mother wearily find her way back to the side of Caitlin's bed. Dumbledore sat on the edge of the bed. Folding his hands in his lap, he began. "Caitlin is not a squib."
Dena raised an eyebrow; Caitlin raised two. What in the world was a squib?
"How is that possible?" Dena questioned. "I thought squibs could not gain magical powers they don't already have."
"They cannot. You see, we have known for a while that being a magical person is genetic, but only recently have we learned how. There is a large portion of a human's brain the purpose of which has never been determined by Muggle doctors. It has, however, been discovered by our own healers that this piece of the brain holds the key to magical powers. Muggle doctors have adopted the term 'dead zone' to refer to this usually inactive portion of the brain. But it is only inactive in Muggles. Wizards have an active zone the purpose of which we now know, so we have coined a more appropriate term--Magithallus."
"That's all very interesting," Dena interjected, "but it doesn't explain how my daughter isn't a squib."
"You know that a squib is a being with no magical powers born to one or two magical people. Apparently, the more non-magical ancestry a person has, the more likely they are to be a squib. Squibs essentially have an inactive Magithallus.
Caitlin, being born of one pureblood and one muggle had the potential to be a squib, but instead, it turned out she was born quite the opposite. She had a fully developed Magithallus that was one-hundred percent active, which is rare, as most wizards operate at only forty-percent. The problem was that she had a connection loose, inhibiting her ability to access her magical powers.
The head trauma from the accident has caused whatever 'wires' that were loose to, in a sense, 'jiggle' into place. She now has full access to her Magithallus."
Dean leaned back in her chair and glanced over at the still form under the sheets. "What does this all mean for her now?"
"I am arranging to have Caitlin attend Hogwarts."
Dena looked at him curiously. "Isn't she too old?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Of course not. She's just a late developer. But, to ease any worries she may have about being surrounded by such young students, I will be keeping her learning private, and she shall take on the position of Muggle Studies professor."
Chuckling, Dena grasped the pale hand that lay still on the bed. "She'll love that. She has always loved teaching people about how things work."
Dumbledore stood and began making his way to the door. "I must be going. There is a world of work ahead of us."
As he reached the door, he halted. Turning to face Dena once more, he added, "You may be in for a bit of a shock when she wakes. We do not know exactly what that other sixty-percent of the Magithallus is capable of doing."
The moment Dumbledore's foot stepped outside the room, the rush took over Caitlin once more. Suddenly, it was morning again, the birds were chirping, and Caitlin's abnormally absent headache had suddenly returned. It had returned so much so, in fact, that she doubled over in pain as she grabbed at her skull.
This was going to be a very interesting day.
-----------------------------------
Review Responses--Prologue
JediMaster16: Thanks for your compliments! Sorry it's taken so long to update. I'm currently suffering a major writer's/artistic/creative block, so thankfully, I already had the first chapter or so handwritten a few months ago, and I only needed to type it up.