- Joined April 2021
- Member of Slytherin
- 20 House Points
- 1st Year
- United States
Backstory
I was born to Helena Deviron and Jonathan Glenkeep. Mom insisted on keeping her name when they got married. Dad knew mom was a witch before they were married. It was their first kiss on their second date when mom accidentally lit the house on fire. Luckily, she was able to extinguish it and reverse the damage, but dad saw everything. He wasn’t scared at all, in fact he was more excited at the prospect of magic being real. An old D&D nerd realizes his biggest fantasy is true. He was very respectful of her ways and kept questions to a casual conversation and less of an interrogation.Mom’s family all passed away. She was the last of her lineage. When they eventually got married, mom insisted on living in a muggle town. She still used magic around the house to help with the chores, but she didn’t want dad exposed to the hypocrisy of the wizarding world. When mom discovered she was pregnant with me, she gave up magic entirely.
All while growing up, I had no idea magic was real. I was rather adventurous, and loved exploring the wood behind our house. I didn’t realize it wasn’t normal for flowers to bloom so quickly whenever I smiled, or for woodland critters to come out and play when I needed a friend. Rainstorms conveniently and ironically formed whenever I was sad or lonely. Of course, none of this happened while I was with other people. Not my family, nor my few friends.
On my eleventh birthday, I received a letter from Ilvermorny, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We were all pleasantly surprised. My mom sat me down and asked me what I knew about her side of the family. She then proceeded to show me everything she knew. Everything of our family, of the spells she remembered, and the equipment she had. She asked if I was interested in learning more, in a formal environment. Of course I was! Magic was real! I was special! She wrote several letters and insisted I attend Hogwarts, not Ilvermorny, as she had. She preferred their style of education.
Mom had reached out to one of her old friends in England, Leobin. Together, they created a floo tunnel between our fireplaces. Mom explained that this was a special mode of transportation, and that I was not to tell anyone of it. She suggested we would be in big trouble if anyone knew. I didn’t make anything of it and quickly forgot about its importance. Our first visit to Leobin’s manor was exciting. The man had a gigantic house with lots of old furniture, paintings, and stuff. There was plenty to explore, and Leobin seems like a kindly old man, but mom said we were on a mission. We left Leobin’s manor and travelled to Diagon Alley, where we purchased everything I would need for school.
It was the most exciting month of my life, quickly followed by the most tragic. Excited by stories of magic, and promises of more; my head swam with dreams of powers and spells. I had my bags packed for Hogwarts days before I needed them. Time continued to slow down as I got closer to moving day. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the day had come. We moved our things to Leobin’s, and took his car to the train. Unfortunately, we never made it.
It was like a bad dream. We drove through the intersection and I saw the oncoming truck showing no signs of slowing down. My entire world flipped upside down as we rolled, and rolled again. The driver of the truck jumped out of his vehicle and tried to help pull us out of the car. Mom’s head, sparkled with blood and bits of glass. Her eyes stuck open. The police announced she was DOA. My world was wrecked, and I completely forgot about the train.
We took my mom back to our home, and after a nice service, we buried her in a nearby church. Dad had changed. Part of his soul was sucked from him. A few days later a professor of Hogwarts came to the house to ask what we planned to do about my education. My dad and I agreed that I needed to stay home that season, and maybe next year would be better. It was a hard year. Lots of random tears. Lots of pain. On occasion, when I was longing for a talk with my mom the most, I would find a dull-lilac cat with oversized ears, a fluffy tail, and striking green eyes peeking in my windows, but it would not stay for long. After a while, I thought I had gone crazy, as no one else seemed to see the creature.
Eventually, towards the end of the year, and near the anniversary of mom’s death, dad and I made a pact to move forward with our lives. He had spent the majority of his savings that year and needed to go back to work. He also encouraged me to commit to school in the upcoming September. When we finally made our pact was when he finally saw the cat for the first time. He built a small cat door into the house and left out food. Within a week, the cat was coming and going from our house as it pleased. I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to find it cuddled at my feet. I think it was sent by mom to keep an eye on me.
As it had before, the day came for school. Apollo was curled in my lap, sleeping as he normally did. I was excited, and apprehensive. As much as I was excited about magic, this was also the day my mom died. We held a memorial for her the day before, and I said a special prayer to her, asking for guidance and protection. Today was the time to move forward. We travelled to Leobin’s, as we had before. We loaded into his car, and proceeded to the train station. I held my breath and shut my eyes as we passed the intersection where it happened. By the time I ran out of air, we were several streets beyond, and Leobin was checking me in the rearview mirror. He offered his condolences, and gave me a small pin to wear. It was bronze, and in the image of a gate between two trees. I thanked him for the gift as we pulled into the station.
From stepping out of the car, to crossing the barrier of King’s Crossing, to boarding the train, floating in the boats, and being sorted: The rest of the day was a blur. But I was happy to be moving forward.
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