Brodie stood on the platform with his parents, waving as the visage of his sister, Lynn, steadily slid away from sight along with the rest of the many excited faces aboard the Hogwarts Express. The young boy had attempted to keep a joyous smile up as he waved, but it was clear as day to anyone that this was a cover-up to the raging jealousy emanating through his entire being. Yet another thing that made his sister so special that he didn’t have, and yet another grand privilege she was given because of it. Lynn had always seemed to be the darling of the Troughton family. All he had turned out being so far was the average one. Polite, fairly well-mannered, smart to a certain extent, but that was nothing when compared to the ability to lift one’s parents off the ground after simply giggling at them. Boy was that a memorable Friday…
Now here he was, discovering one of the greatest secrets of the world, a mind blowing revelation that changed his entire viewpoint of reality, and all he was thinking about was ‘I wish I was on that train…’ Admittedly, finding out that magic was a real thing didn’t hold a candle to having the capacity of using it, especially in the eyes of a young child. Brodie, now at the age of 8, hadn’t exhibited any sign of magical ability himself yet, whilst Lynn had done so mere weeks after her 7th birthday. Small things at first, changing the color of a book’s binding or erasing a smudge on a note without touching it, and these were things she wouldn’t admit until much later, when the much more noticeable stuff started creeping its way in. He couldn’t even bring himself to will the smallest speck in his direction at this point, and the window of opportunity for him to have this rare gift was closing fast. He’d been dreaming of that elusive moment as of late, and each dream felt all the more real, further pushing the disappointment of his awakening every proceeding morning. Disappointment of this caliber shouldn’t have been possible for someone of this age at such an economic status, but, that was the thing about magic, muggles couldn’t exactly put a price on it.
Once they arrived back home, Brodie merely slouched down on the couch in his living room, forcing the acceptance that he was going to a normal, magic-null school down his throat, obviously a tough pill to swallow. This was further complicated by the fact that he had to keep his mouth shut over any sort of word about this apparent world of witchcraft and wizardry, not that that was likely a great concern for anyone though. Who was going to go on the word of an eight-year-old in the first place? No, that was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things; the real difficulty here? Being in possession of a truth in which hardly anyone else in his acquaintance had any shred of awareness; a most torturous sort of secret… His parents suffered the same fate for that matter, he could tell. The joyous expressions of pride in their faces, no matter how sincere, were still masks to conceal the terrible burden thrust upon them, coming to terms with a parallel world that was there all their lives, underneath their very noses. At least Brodie was fortunate enough to figure this out whilst he was still in the process of learning about the world around him. It would eventually start falling into place like any other discovery, wizard or no… or at least, he hoped as much. That sort of acceptance would be the closest thing to consolation he could hope to gain if that invitation never came in the mail.
It was a terribly slow year, the fall and winter months in particular seemed to drag at an agonizing rate. Jealousy didn’t keep Brodie away from his desire to hear just what this so-called “Hogwarts” school was like, and what kinds of spells Lynn had been taught to cast. It was enough to make his mind wander endlessly as he struggled to comprehend what was all but incomprehensible. When that Christmas holiday came around, the stories Lynn had to tell were without question the best gifts of the bunch. She was more than happy to tell him such wondrous things as well, provided of course it was within her permission to do so.
“The staircases move on their own, and the paintings! They’re all alive, and they can speak to you! It sounds mad, I know, but, that’s the truth of it, and that’s not even the craziest thing! Not by a long shot!” Lynn told him ecstatically, as if she were reliving each moment right then and there. Brodie had very little to add to the conversation beyond a permanent look of shock and awe with his mouth agape. “The classes can get difficult though, magic isn’t all fun and games, and a lot of those professors sure like to hammer that in, let me tell you. You ever try writing on parchment, Brodie? It’s like they’re stuck firmly in the past, these wizardfolk,” she added, as if she needed to bring up these petty inconveniences just to keep from exploding from the happy memories she had been making.
“That’s… that’s just brilliant, Lynn. It’s like something out of a storybook,” Brodie managed to eventually squeak out in response once words returned to him.
“Like a storybook, but it’s real! To think this is my future, as a witch!” She exclaimed, though she seemed to mellow out a bit once she noticed a faint sort of expression of yearning on her brother’s face. “…You know you still have time. Some people don’t start showing off magic until the last second, don’t give up on it now,” she said, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. It was rare that they had a legitimately touching conversation, being siblings in the midst of their childhoods and all, but Brodie and Lynn did have these moments all the same. He nodded at his sister’s words, a faint smile appearing on his face, a contrast to his slightly misty eyes.
“H-heh… yeah, still time… I still hope it shows up soon. That sounds like such a great place, I’d rather like to get a chance to see it for myself. Stories can only do so much, yeah?” he said, another chuckle escaping his lips, though this one was particularly weaker, an obvious sense of melancholy coming through. Lynn seemed to ponder something for a moment at this, before eventually pulling out what appeared to be a beige-colored, paper-like material from her pockets, handing them over to Brodie.
“That’s some official Hogwarts parchment right there, the same sort that I wrote all my homework with, what pretty much all witches andwizards use for that matter. Think of it as a little souvenir to pass the time,” she said, a smirk beginning to form on her face. “Trust me, if you do get in, you’re going to get pretty sick of this stuff real fast, so, relish this moment while you can,” she added, getting up and playfully rustling her brother’s messy brown hair before making her way back to the festivities all set up by their parents. Brodie was alone now, staring at the parchment, running a hand down it as he imagined just where the writing material had been; who had per chance touched it, what sort of supernatural forces had surrounded it. It was all enough to get his imagination running on high. Unfortunately, such feelings of wonder were soon accompanied by jealous anger and frustration. The thoughts he had when Lynn left on that train that fall began to return at full force. Once again she was getting all the glory, she was discovering these amazing and wonderful things, she was the special one… and what was he then? The “other Troughton” as far as anyone else was likely concerned. He shut his eyes tightly and grasped at the parchment tightly, feeling a great temptation to rip it all to shreds, but, he managed to hold back from doing so, taking a few breaths to let his frustration subside. It wasn’t worth getting so angry over, he reasoned to himself as he gently tucked the pale white parchment into his own pockets and got up to follow after Lynn… only to stop dead in his tracks once he realized something was out of place… Hastily he pulled the parchment back out and stared at it puzzlingly. White? He could have sworn it was beige when Lynn handed it to him… No, there was no doubt in his mind, it was beige. How did it suddenly get to changing? He could only stare blankly at it, confusion running amok in his head to a point where it started to ache. It was then without warning that the parchment changed yet again, giving off a pale orange glow. Realization struck the young boy at that very moment, his eyes opened wide, and his smile grew all the wider. All of a sudden a new gift surpassed all the others that year.
---
Three years went by in a flash, and in that time, a number of continuing small instances of floating books and changing hair colors merely confirmed what Brodie had discovered that winter evening. The letter in the post that day brought a feeling which he could only describe as truly cosmic. Sure, it wasn’t quite as strange and wondrous as Lynn’s letter, having been delivered directly by a messenger and all, but, the way it was sent was hardly any concern to him, certainly not anywhere near as important as the letter itself. Once more he was standing at platform 9 ¾ but for the first time, he would indeed be boarding the train himself. He had stood right beside Lynn as the doors of the Hogwarts Express opened to them, the two siblings waving over to their parents once more before stepping aboard.
“Is it really as amazing as you’ve been telling me?” Brodie asked, unable to contain a single ounce of his excitement. Lynn merely looked at him with a knowing smile, seeing the very expression she had felt each year since that first train ride.
“It’s even better, Brodie, a thousand times better.”
Now here he was, discovering one of the greatest secrets of the world, a mind blowing revelation that changed his entire viewpoint of reality, and all he was thinking about was ‘I wish I was on that train…’ Admittedly, finding out that magic was a real thing didn’t hold a candle to having the capacity of using it, especially in the eyes of a young child. Brodie, now at the age of 8, hadn’t exhibited any sign of magical ability himself yet, whilst Lynn had done so mere weeks after her 7th birthday. Small things at first, changing the color of a book’s binding or erasing a smudge on a note without touching it, and these were things she wouldn’t admit until much later, when the much more noticeable stuff started creeping its way in. He couldn’t even bring himself to will the smallest speck in his direction at this point, and the window of opportunity for him to have this rare gift was closing fast. He’d been dreaming of that elusive moment as of late, and each dream felt all the more real, further pushing the disappointment of his awakening every proceeding morning. Disappointment of this caliber shouldn’t have been possible for someone of this age at such an economic status, but, that was the thing about magic, muggles couldn’t exactly put a price on it.
Once they arrived back home, Brodie merely slouched down on the couch in his living room, forcing the acceptance that he was going to a normal, magic-null school down his throat, obviously a tough pill to swallow. This was further complicated by the fact that he had to keep his mouth shut over any sort of word about this apparent world of witchcraft and wizardry, not that that was likely a great concern for anyone though. Who was going to go on the word of an eight-year-old in the first place? No, that was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things; the real difficulty here? Being in possession of a truth in which hardly anyone else in his acquaintance had any shred of awareness; a most torturous sort of secret… His parents suffered the same fate for that matter, he could tell. The joyous expressions of pride in their faces, no matter how sincere, were still masks to conceal the terrible burden thrust upon them, coming to terms with a parallel world that was there all their lives, underneath their very noses. At least Brodie was fortunate enough to figure this out whilst he was still in the process of learning about the world around him. It would eventually start falling into place like any other discovery, wizard or no… or at least, he hoped as much. That sort of acceptance would be the closest thing to consolation he could hope to gain if that invitation never came in the mail.
It was a terribly slow year, the fall and winter months in particular seemed to drag at an agonizing rate. Jealousy didn’t keep Brodie away from his desire to hear just what this so-called “Hogwarts” school was like, and what kinds of spells Lynn had been taught to cast. It was enough to make his mind wander endlessly as he struggled to comprehend what was all but incomprehensible. When that Christmas holiday came around, the stories Lynn had to tell were without question the best gifts of the bunch. She was more than happy to tell him such wondrous things as well, provided of course it was within her permission to do so.
“The staircases move on their own, and the paintings! They’re all alive, and they can speak to you! It sounds mad, I know, but, that’s the truth of it, and that’s not even the craziest thing! Not by a long shot!” Lynn told him ecstatically, as if she were reliving each moment right then and there. Brodie had very little to add to the conversation beyond a permanent look of shock and awe with his mouth agape. “The classes can get difficult though, magic isn’t all fun and games, and a lot of those professors sure like to hammer that in, let me tell you. You ever try writing on parchment, Brodie? It’s like they’re stuck firmly in the past, these wizardfolk,” she added, as if she needed to bring up these petty inconveniences just to keep from exploding from the happy memories she had been making.
“That’s… that’s just brilliant, Lynn. It’s like something out of a storybook,” Brodie managed to eventually squeak out in response once words returned to him.
“Like a storybook, but it’s real! To think this is my future, as a witch!” She exclaimed, though she seemed to mellow out a bit once she noticed a faint sort of expression of yearning on her brother’s face. “…You know you still have time. Some people don’t start showing off magic until the last second, don’t give up on it now,” she said, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. It was rare that they had a legitimately touching conversation, being siblings in the midst of their childhoods and all, but Brodie and Lynn did have these moments all the same. He nodded at his sister’s words, a faint smile appearing on his face, a contrast to his slightly misty eyes.
“H-heh… yeah, still time… I still hope it shows up soon. That sounds like such a great place, I’d rather like to get a chance to see it for myself. Stories can only do so much, yeah?” he said, another chuckle escaping his lips, though this one was particularly weaker, an obvious sense of melancholy coming through. Lynn seemed to ponder something for a moment at this, before eventually pulling out what appeared to be a beige-colored, paper-like material from her pockets, handing them over to Brodie.
“That’s some official Hogwarts parchment right there, the same sort that I wrote all my homework with, what pretty much all witches andwizards use for that matter. Think of it as a little souvenir to pass the time,” she said, a smirk beginning to form on her face. “Trust me, if you do get in, you’re going to get pretty sick of this stuff real fast, so, relish this moment while you can,” she added, getting up and playfully rustling her brother’s messy brown hair before making her way back to the festivities all set up by their parents. Brodie was alone now, staring at the parchment, running a hand down it as he imagined just where the writing material had been; who had per chance touched it, what sort of supernatural forces had surrounded it. It was all enough to get his imagination running on high. Unfortunately, such feelings of wonder were soon accompanied by jealous anger and frustration. The thoughts he had when Lynn left on that train that fall began to return at full force. Once again she was getting all the glory, she was discovering these amazing and wonderful things, she was the special one… and what was he then? The “other Troughton” as far as anyone else was likely concerned. He shut his eyes tightly and grasped at the parchment tightly, feeling a great temptation to rip it all to shreds, but, he managed to hold back from doing so, taking a few breaths to let his frustration subside. It wasn’t worth getting so angry over, he reasoned to himself as he gently tucked the pale white parchment into his own pockets and got up to follow after Lynn… only to stop dead in his tracks once he realized something was out of place… Hastily he pulled the parchment back out and stared at it puzzlingly. White? He could have sworn it was beige when Lynn handed it to him… No, there was no doubt in his mind, it was beige. How did it suddenly get to changing? He could only stare blankly at it, confusion running amok in his head to a point where it started to ache. It was then without warning that the parchment changed yet again, giving off a pale orange glow. Realization struck the young boy at that very moment, his eyes opened wide, and his smile grew all the wider. All of a sudden a new gift surpassed all the others that year.
---
Three years went by in a flash, and in that time, a number of continuing small instances of floating books and changing hair colors merely confirmed what Brodie had discovered that winter evening. The letter in the post that day brought a feeling which he could only describe as truly cosmic. Sure, it wasn’t quite as strange and wondrous as Lynn’s letter, having been delivered directly by a messenger and all, but, the way it was sent was hardly any concern to him, certainly not anywhere near as important as the letter itself. Once more he was standing at platform 9 ¾ but for the first time, he would indeed be boarding the train himself. He had stood right beside Lynn as the doors of the Hogwarts Express opened to them, the two siblings waving over to their parents once more before stepping aboard.
“Is it really as amazing as you’ve been telling me?” Brodie asked, unable to contain a single ounce of his excitement. Lynn merely looked at him with a knowing smile, seeing the very expression she had felt each year since that first train ride.
“It’s even better, Brodie, a thousand times better.”
