Hi. Um...a lot's happened since I last updated. But I guess at least someone loves this, so I may as well continue it. And, as my Women's Lit professor says, it'll "keep me off the streets and out of trouble".

It's a bit short, but I'm getting back into the Potterverse, so that's why.

Chapter 3: The Truth about Magic

Tamisin felt her eyes bulge out of her head as she stared at her caretaker. Had she just said that she, Tamisin, was a witch? That couldn't be true. Witches weren't real. They were in her storybooks, but they didn't really exist.

Did they?

Mrs. Figg set down a disgruntled Jonathon and turned to Tamisin. "My dear, why do you look so terrified? This is good news!"

Tamisin stared up at Mrs. Figg, who was positively giddy. "How is it good? Witches are evil. They capture people, and lock them away."

"Not all witches are like that," Mrs. Figg explained. "Surely you know that."

Tamisin shook her head. "No, I didn't."

Mrs. Figg suddenly frowned. "You…you aren't aware of anything."

Tamisin shook her head again.

Mrs. Figg sighed. "Okay. Help me clear the table, and then I'll tell you all you need to know."

"I think the first thing you need to know is that you're not alone, Tamisin. There are many, many other men and women who possess the gifts you have."

"How come I've never seen them?"

"You probably have!" Mrs. Figg laughed kindly. "They don't show themselves to Muggles, not very often."

"Muggles?"

"A Muggle is someone who doesn't possess any magic."

"Like the Dursleys?"

Mrs. Figg gave her a wry smile. "All in good time, dear." Her face turned grave. "I think the next thing you need to know is…is about your parents."

Tamisin frowned. "But…my father left, and my mother gave me up—"

"Oh, no," Mrs. Figg interrupted. "That's how the Muggles explain it. What happened was, six years ago, there was a terrible war going on. Your father, who was a wizard, fought very bravely, but…he lost his life."

Tamisin felt tears well in her eyes. "And…and what about my mum?"

"We don't know what happened to her," Mrs. Figg said sadly. "Miss Sayers might have her contact information, but we cannot know for sure where she is."

Tamisin nodded for what seemed like the billionth time.

"Do you have any questions for me?"

"Um…are you a witch?"

"Me? A witch?" Mrs. Figg laughed, holding her sides. "Oh, no! I don't have any magic!"

"So, are you a…a Muggle?"

"I'm a special sort of Muggle. I'm a Squib."

"A squid? Isn't that like an octopus?"

"Not a squid, a Squib with a B. Squibs are children born to magical parents, but do not possess any magic themselves. Both my parents were magical, and I always felt a bit left out when all my friends went off to Hogwarts and I was forced to go to regular school."

"Hogwarts?" The word itself sounded majestic.

"The best magic school in all of England!" Mrs. Figg declared. "But you have a while before you have to worry about that sort of thing. Most magic children attend school when they turn eleven."

"So…what do I do until then?"

"For the moment, nothing. If something out of the ordinary happens, like the curtain rod incident, that's quite alright. Your magic is still manifesting itself, and it'll calm down in a year or two."

Tamisin blinked. "You…you knew? About the rod?"

"I suspected as much. Magic starts to show in young children around that age. I kept an eye on you, to be sure, and now I can safely say my suspicions were right."

"And…this is…good, right?"

"Of course, dear! Don't worry yourself into a state. Magic is only evil when you use it as such, and I know you'd never do that."

Tamisin shook her head. "No. I'd never want to hurt anyone."

Mrs. Figg crossed to Tamisin, patting her head. "That's a good girl. I believe it's time for bed. If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to ask me at any time, alright?"

"Alright." Tamisin was halfway up the stairs when she paused. "Mrs. Figg?"

"Yes?"

"What about Harry? Is he a wizard, too?"

Mrs. Figg's expression turned grim again. "That's a story for tomorrow, dear. Go on up to bed."

About a week later, Tamisin caught Harry on his way home from school. He asked her about being sick again.

"Oh, that." She shrugged. "Um…it's just our imagination, Harry. Nothing more."

"But…I swear, it's real."

"No." She swallowed. "It's not. There's no such thing as magic."

She walked briskly home, almost in tears. Harry couldn't know, not right now. Mrs. Figg had explained that there was a plan for him, and that included waiting a few years before he knew the truth. And as much as that pained her, she'd follow it.