Forbidden [d.m.] || rewritten

chapter 1

- year one -

S A G E P O T T E R

Magic. I hadn't believed in it in my first couple years of life. Disappearing acts and illusions of levitation never seemed to fool me. They were made to trick and deceive people. They were made to make the impossible possible. Rubbish, if you ask me.

You could see both sides to it. Some people want to be deceived. They want to believe that the impossible could be done. Others think the idea is completely insane. How could somebody possibly be cut in half? How could something unnatural like that happen?

Those were two questions I couldn't even answer myself. That was, before the night of my twelfth birthday. I suppose that's where I should start. The night my legacy came into existence.

In the Wizarding World, my last name certainly gave me its for and against. People hated me. People loved me. People yearned to be me. Or with me. People would have rather took a curse than be me. People were in awe when I passed by. But above all, people knew who I was without even introducing myself.

My brother, Harry, and I commemorated our twelfth birthday just yesterday. Though, I wouldn't say it was celebrated. Or even acknowledged. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went about their daily routines like any normal day of the week. While they were praising their lone son, Dudley, Harry and I were doing every chore imaginable; dusting the antiques; preparing the meals; washing the windows; clipping the garden; taking out the trash.

It was brutal. Like always. The Dursley's were the worst type of people. Purposefully cruel. We hadn't any other family left. Our parents only died when we were merely infants. Our supremely irritating cousin, Dudley loved to remind us of that.

Though, Harry and I were only made aware of the real legacy of our parents just last night. Coming to find out your parents were murdered by a legendary Dark sorcerer was a bit of a hard pill for two twelve-year-olds to swallow. Nonetheless, we were being shipped off to a school to practice witchcraft and wizardry.

Apparently on a child's twelfth birthday, if they have it in their blood, or the child had done accidental magic, a letter is mailed out to those worthy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I suppose Harry and I were a much more intricate case. A Hogwarts Professor by the name of Rubeus Hagrid was the source of us finding out the news.

His arrival was what made my belief on magic come to life. Actually, he gave me hope for a better future for Harry and I. Mum and Dad left us with thousands of galleons, which we so graciously used to buy all of our supplies from Diagon Alley. The half-giant, Hagrid was kind enough to spend his own galleons on two owls just for us.

It would have been a lie if I said I wasn't high strung about traveling to a new school. Harry and I had no knowledge or talent regarding wizards or magic or anything. On top of that, Hagrid ditched me and my brother at King's Cross station, so our puny selves had to find out where the bloody hell Platform 9 and ¾ was.

The two of us stood in the middle of the platform like deer caught in headlights. Eyes wide and bodies stiff. We looked around for 9 and ¾ with pure desperation as we tried to maneuver around the crowds bustling to board their trains.

"Hey!" Harry prodded at my shoulder. "Let's go ask that man!"

I shrugged my shoulders, thinking the heck with it. We pushed our trolleys over to the man, calling out "excuse me" through the chatter of the travelers. He peered down at us like any man with authority would at helpless children.

"Have you any idea where Platform 9 and ¾ is, sir?"

"9 and ¾." He scoffed and turned around without another word. No surprise, he thought we were out of our wits.