I used to live
in my own little bubble.
Oblivious
to the other world
I belonged to.
I used to be proud
of my name
I thought it brought me closer
to my parents.
But now I don't want to be.
I am not my parents.
No one used to look at me
in a mixture of
disgust
and curiosity
whenever I say my name.
I still don't know why I kept my name,
They meant well,
thought they were doing me a favour.
They were probably trying to avoid me going through the phase of self
belonging and searching
for who I biologically was.
They were right.
I have no need to
become closer or
more like them.
When I found out
I wish I shared their name.
They were the burns
and I
was
a
Rowle.
The war had been over
for a few months.
They had grown tired
of the old blood.
They wanted to punish
those left
for what they had done.
They did not see them
as people they saw them as
animals,
fit only for captivity.
They saw them all as
mass murderers
not as individuals.
Some of them were as bad as they get.
Evil to the core.
Others were swayed easily
and went to the highest bidder.
However most of them were
weak and insecure.
They went into hiding.
They were willing
to put their pasts behind them.
Living with the so called
filthy muggles.
Those filthy muggles showed them compassion, kindness and love,
little if which the magical community had ever shown them.
They accepted them as they were and did not ask questions and judge.
They became part of the community. And forged friendships.
The ministry was determined to find and imprison them.
They wanted to use them as a future deterrent for others.
But do deterrents always work?
The answer is no.
People go to any lengths to achieve the end means.
Do they learn
nothing from the past?
A man and wife moved in
to the house in the middle of Westview Way.
The houses were many in number but small in size.
Most of which were past their prime. But in these poverty filled streets there was a tight knit community.
These people were all struggling
to make ends meet,
so believed that they were in it together.
The news that two young people with a little child
of around one or two
spread like wildfire.
The gossip was light hearted
and no questions were asked.
Invitations for tea went round the street.
The many families crammed into the small house.
They introduced the child
as Cordelia Rowle.
Who beamed and made the neighbours laugh.
And the cake was of an exceptional standard.
In the coming months that followed they integrated themselves into the village.
The man became known for gardening and odd jobs.
Whilst his wife joined various groups and brought along her soon well known cakes.
Whereas the little girl made friends among the street.
No magic was used.
Had they really proved that a leopard can change his spots?
The girl was playing in front garden. Tottering on the well kept grass and looking at the array of flowers.
Her mother was looking at her adoringly,
whilst flicking through a glossy magazine.
Her father's laugh filled the room when he looked up from the gardening shears
he was mending.
All seemed well. But was it really?
They wore the expression of fear.
The the feeling of anticipation dripped off of them.
The man was constantly
looking over his shoulder.
Veins in his temple were rarely not throbbing.
His wife's hands were very rarely still.
They often shared a look which said how long is this going to last.
They told their child that
they were sorry, you are loved and you have got to be strong.
She was repeatedly told
Don't make the same mistakes as us
Please,please don't end up anything like us.
When you looked past their smiling faces you could see that their past was catching up.
A ladybird landed on a leaf
and she started singing to it.
Ladybird, ladybird
Fly away home.
She was too enthralled to notice what was going on inside.
Two aurors apparated into the kitchen.
They immediately tied the young couples hands together.
They forced them upright knocking the chairs to the floor.
The man accepted his fate.
The woman did not.
She told them she had a daughter.
The aurors ignored her.
She said again in a whisper.
She screamed at him and they tried to retrain her further.
Something went wrong.
It did not restrain her.
The aurors panicked when they saw what they had done. They disappeared with a crack, bringing their hostages with them.
Narrowly escaping the flames rising.
They covered it up.
Never came back.
Case closed.
Meanwhile the girl hadn't noticed what was going on inside.
She was still singing.
Your house is on fire
She looked up and saw orange flames dancing from inside the kitchen.
The flames were moving more precariously, the whole room was ablaze.
She could not see her parents.
She chocked out the words in higher pitch, fear rising insider her.
And your children are gone.
I hope it doesn't seem too glamorous.
I hope it didn't seem like I thought the life they led before,
Was acceptable.
They may have changed
But you can't forget
What they did was
Twisted and wrong.
You should know that the little girl was safe, she can tell you that she was taken in by the neighbours, brought up as the child they never had.
The fire brigade was called and the blaze stamped out.
They never new what happened to the young couple.
Some embellished the story,
Said people came to take them away, and lit the fire to cover their tracks.
Most thought that the innocent young couple were burnt alive in the fire- an accident with the gas.
I thought they were dead.
It was a shock
when I found out
they were rotting
in a wizarding prison for life,
serving time for the many lives
they helped to take.
They didn't have a trial.
They didn't have their side told.
No one listened to them.
No one new about me.
After all,
Who would believe a pair of death eaters?
Every person
will someday
Have a flame,
keeping them going
day after day.
That flame
helps form
your opinions
your beliefs
your interests and
what you feel passionate about.
This flame can be good
It can be bad.
The flame first lights at different times.
My flame was first lit
when
I
saw
fire
in
my
eyes.