|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: takon65 Story: Memoirs of a Muggle Mage Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 1 Words: 26,759
My Life as a Muggle Mage by Master Gunnery Sergeant George Thomas Rotheri Jr. U.S.M.C. (Ret.) I was born 12 July 1943 in North Carolina. I had a huge long lived family. Momma and Poppa,Pappaw and Mammaw, and GrandDad and a whole passel of brothers, sisters and cousins. I never noticed that part of the family had these baton-like sticks and another part didn't. It just was. That all changed 12 July, 1954. Twelve July, 1954, my eleventh birthday. GrandDad called me to the porch of his house. I was more than a little frightened of GrandDad. He fought in what he called "The Yankee War of Agression" and lost a leg to that conflict. He was a gruff man and hardly ever told stories to us kids. Not like Pappaw, he told us a lot about the trips into Paris during "The War to End All Wars". "G.T.", he said, "come into the house with me." I was thinking, Oh my, I'm in trouble! But I was wrong. Over the next couple of hours, I was shown and told things I never knew existed. That magic is real and my GrandDad and Pappaw are wizards. That I'd been invited to "The New Salem School for Witchcraft and Wizardry". The old barn owl that used to frighten me is named Stonewall, and he delivers mail. Pappaw, GrandDad and I hopped into the car and drove to Raleigh right into the downtown region to 'The SwampFox Inn'. As we entered the inn, I heard "Moanin' Cuhnel", and "Moanin' Genrul" from the people as we passed them in the barroom. Pappaw looked down at my excited face. "Grandson, who was the 'SwampFox'?" I had no idea even if the answer were my own name—I would probably get it wrong with the excitement I was feeling. I looked up at the kindly mans face and told him, "I don't know." "General Francis Marion fought in The Revolutionary War. They called him 'The SwampFox' because he was smart as a fox and could hide well in the swamps. A simple disilusionment spell helped him out. That was the last conflict on these shores that Wizards and Muggles alike shouldered arms side by side. Welcome, my grandson, to Marion Square!" The next seven years went by faster than the speed of light. Laughter and learning. Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts were my favorites. In August 1961, I received an owl with my N.E.W.T. scores. A acceptable number. (No I'm not going to tell you how many. You can look them up, it is a public record.) I thought continuing my education at a Muggle University would be a good idea. Looking back at the idea,it wasn't the best. Since I'm the youngest of my family, plus one of the three children that were magical, I had less responsibilities than my other siblings. At the University of North Carolina, I had no head-of-house to owl my folks if I messed up too bad. There was just me, and I was supposed to be an adult. Well I enrolled and found out about Muggle girls and no charmed stairways going to their dormitories. I partied more than cracking a book and studying. GrandDad was very disappointed in me when he saw my academic probation. To make the Old Man proud of me, not to mention Momma and Poppa, I tried my best. I needed a 'B' average to fully get off of probation and got a 'C' one instead. Along about my birthday, 1962, I received 3 letters from the postman. Letter One: From the University of North Carolina, asking me to re-apply in a year to continue my education. Letter Two: a letter with the words "Greetings From Your Friends and Neighbors" instead of Dear, telling me to report for my induction physical a week from the date on the letter. I'd been drafted. Letter Three...I ran out behind the smokeshed to read it; it was from my Denise. I knew she would be accepted into the family readily; GrandDad said so—we have lots of Muggles in the family. I loved her a lot. OH MY LORD!! I'm gonna be a Daddy!! My Denise, red haired, blue-green eyed and the body of a goddess... God, with whom am I going to share this piece of news? As I sat there stunned, I barely heard the screech-thunk-step of GrandDad walking. All of a sudden, I saw him and looked at him with a stricken expression on my face. I hadn't been caught behind the smokeshed by GrandDad since I was eight years old, and then I was smoking cornsilk. He drew his wand and said, “Accio Letters” and “Mobillicorpus” at me." I 'floatwalked' down the plantation's square to his house. We sat at the kitchen table and he asked, "May I read the letters?" I nodded the answer. He picked up the letter from the University of North Carolina, "I should have expected this. You did so well at the Institute. I should have hired you tutors, so I must accept a bit of the responsibility. But you are a man according to society and our family's customs, just not the Muggle world. You must accept the fate of your actions. He looked at the Draft Notice. In a tone that brooked no discussion what-so-ever. Your country calls for your service George, you WILL go! Your Papa signed up for the Second World War, bless him; he has the heart of a wizard just not the gift. Your Pappaw volunteered for the one before that. I gave my services to my State and The Confederacy. You will do fine." Two out of three and I survived! Just what will the old man think of the third, and will I survive? I love my GrandDad dearly, but he is a formidable man when riled. I could see his brow wrinkle, and his smoky blue eyes focus on my beloved's letter. "George", the old man said,"this is an important hallmark day of your young life and a test of character. We can handle this in one of three ways. One: If your young lady will marry you, we will welcome her into our family and your child will know his birthrights. Two: If she doesn't want to marry you and she wants to keep the baby, the family will provide for it. Three: I served with the local Magical Governor during 'The War of Yankee Agression'(God forbid he call it 'The Civil War' like everybody else.) He can use his office to make it as if it never was. Make your choice 'BOY'!!" I was aghast at the choices, especially number three. "GrandDad, I sewed some 'wild-oats' while I was at school. Occasionally, I forgot about contraceptive measures. I just wasn't much of an adult when I made those choices. The only thing I can think of when I think of my Denise is growing old with her. Seeing her smile in the morning. Holding her hand in the afternoon, smelling her scent, hearing her laugh. Yes GrandDad, if she will have me, she will be my bride." The old man smiled at me, one of the few genuine smiles I think he ever gave me. He said, "George, you have made your first step into manhood. Go win your love and I will take care of your Papa and Pappaw. Though your Mamma probably will want to talk with you loudly for hours, more than likely." "He drew his wand, and pointed it at Denise's letter. “PORTUS,” he said. "I would ask you to Apparate to Marion Square, but you would probably splinch yourself today. Touch the letter and we will be off." As I felt the pulling behind my navel, my new steps into my life began. Before us was the sparkling white edifice of the local branch of Gringotts Bank. GrandDad walked me through the door as a goblin walked up to us. "Genrul Rotheri suh, said Alreik, how may we help y'all today?" "Mr. Alreik, I wold like to go to my vault number 113, and set up one for my grandson, George. How does the Lady Alreik fare, kind suh?", GrandDad asked. Alreik replied, "She is very well. She asked me to thank you again for the silver chafing dish you gave us for our twenty-fifth anniversary." As Alreik let us to the tunnels to the track, we mounted the cart and sped off to the bowels of the bank. I could remember thinking this was better than any roller coaster ride I had ever taken. Before we came to a complete stop, I was wondering if Denise like roller coasters. The Rotheri Family Vault stood before us with the lions and the redking of the crest prominently displayed. Alreik took GrandDad's key and opened the door. "Vault 113, gen'lemen.", Alreik said. Inside the vault appeared to be enormous. Boxes of gold ingots and piles of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts were everywhere. GrandDad turned to the right, and from a box at eye level, he took a small velvet box and handed it to me. Inside the box were two rings; they had the look of being hand carved with morning glory vines around them. The engagement ring had a small diamond and the wedding band had three larger diamonds in it. I slipped them on my pinkie, together they formed a shining star in the middle. GrandDad in a choked voice told me,"I had those made for your GrandMother in 1867. She was my bride for 67 years before they were removed from her finger. That is the secret of love, George. Treat your wife as if she were your bride every day you are together with her, and you will always see her as when you slipped the ring on her finger. I stared at my GrandDad, not knowing he could be so profound. I mentally began to prepare for my trip to my beloved's house. A/N I was trying to have a 'hometown bank' feeling. GrandDad is a very important person in the community. A wise and nice woman, mentioned about the unified feel of the wizarding community. Two separate countries, the same bank and currency. Thank you Aggiebell! I would also like to thank Allie-Kiwi for Alreik's name. Names have always been a downfall for me. I have a hard time making up original ones.
|