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FIC: A Muggle-Born Wizard, Chapter One
Title: A Muggle-Born Wizard
Author: JKLB
Rating: G
Summary: Davy Hollerith doesn't know what to believe when he first gets an acceptance letter to a school for Witches and Wizards, but a visit from his neighbour, Sirius Black, helps convince him that it isn't a hoax.
Author's Note: I wanted to tell the story of a muggle-born witch or wizard getting into Hogwarts, and Davy Hollerith came to mind. Davy and his family were created by CLS for her story Black Shadow. If you wonder why I merely tease you with the character of Uncle Mick—sorry, but you’ll have to read “Black Shadow” to meet him. It’s a wonderful story about how Sirius got his flying motorcycle. (But read it after this story, it will work out better chronologically.)
Disclaimer: Sirius, his friends, and Hogwarts belong to JKR. Davy, his family, and this version of Sirius's parents belong to CLS. Many thanks to CLS for allowing Davy to come over to my house to play.
A Muggle-Born Wizard
Chapter One- The Letter
“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore.” Davy Hollerith reread the strange letter silently as he sat on the back step. He had read it countless times since it had arrived earlier that afternoon. His mother had dismissed it as a silly practical joke and forgotten about it, but Davy couldn’t dismiss it as easily. It wasn’t that he believed the letter to be from a real school—how could it be? “Witchcraft and Wizardry”—there were no such things. No, Davy was puzzled because he couldn’t think of anyone he knew who could have dreamt up this letter, “Other equipment: 1 wand, 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2),” and carried out creating it. Some one had gone to a lot of trouble to obtain parchment, green ink, purple sealing wax, and a seal with a strange coat of arms.
“…and I’ll be swamped tomorrow. Everyone always wants to get their car fixed on Saturday.” Davy heard his parents talking in the kitchen behind him. His father had just finished work in his car repair shop next door and was now having a late supper.
“But you’ll be home for supper, won’t you?” his mother asked anxiously. “Mick will be here sometime in the afternoon.” Davy smiled at this. Mick was his mother’s brother and his favorite uncle. His visits were sporadic, but usually memorable.
“I’ll come home when my work’s done,” his father grumbled, and then more gently, “but, yeah, I should be home late afternoon. That’s why I did extra tonight. Davy?”
“Yes, Dad?”
“I want you to help me out tomorrow morning. You’ll be done before your uncle gets here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The sun had set a half an hour earlier, and Davy suddenly shivered as an evening breeze stroked the back of his neck. He stood up to go back inside but paused as he saw movement near the trees at the edge of the back garden. A man, a woman, and a boy about Davy’s age, were emerging from the trees and walking toward the house.
“Hi! Are you David?” the boy called.
“Yeah, I’m Davy.” He felt apprehensive, but didn’t know why. The black-haired boy looked slightly familiar, and Davy thought that he might have seen him in the village.
“I’m Sirius,” the boy said with a grin as he and the two adults reached the back step. Although Davy was on the step and the other boy was standing below, they were standing eye to eye. Davy was just about to ask what the boy was serious about when the man spoke.
“Hi, Davy. We’re Mr. and Mrs. Black.” The tall man extended his hand to Davy, and after a moment’s hesitation, Davy shook it. “Are your parents home?”
“Who is it, Davy?” said his father. Davy turned to see him standing behind the screen door.
“Dad, these are Mr. and Mrs. Black,” he said, and then realizing that the boy had introduced himself, he added, “and this is Serious.” Davy thought that this was the strangest name he had ever heard. Davy’s father merely nodded in greeting and did not open the door.
“We’ve never formally met,” Mrs. Black said to Davy’s father, “but we’re neighbours of yours. We live on the outskirts of the village. We’ve come to talk with you about Hogwarts. My husband and I are alumni, and Sirius is going into his second year in the fall.”
Davy quickly looked down at the letter in his hand and then at the grinning Serious. He realized that his mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. This practical joke was getting even more interesting.
“What’s Hogwarts?” Davy’s father asked in a weary tone.
Davy saw Mr. and Mrs. Black look at each other, and he felt the need to explain. “My dad just got home from work and hasn’t seen the letter yet,” he said quickly. If this was a practical joke, it was too well executed so far to let it fall apart now. And if it wasn’t a joke—but Davy mentally shook himself and didn’t finish that foolish thought. Hogwarts couldn’t be real. Davy opened the screen door and held out the letter to his father. “I was waiting until after—Mum thought that—you should read this.”
Davy’s mother was now beside her husband. “Please come in,” she said as she wiped her hands on her apron and then pulled it off. Practical joke or not, neighbours had come to call, and she wouldn’t leave them standing outside in the night air.
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Black with a smile. She and her husband followed Mrs. Hollerith through the kitchen into the living room. Davy’s father followed the other adults, a puzzled frown on his face as he read the letter. Davy watched them go and wanted to follow, but he felt as if his feet were rooted in place.
“So, is this the coolest thing that ever happened to you, or the weirdest?” asked the other boy.
“Both, I think,” replied Davy. Curiosity got the better of him, and he turned to face the black-haired boy. “Why did your parents name you ‘Serious’?”
“They said that they’ll tell me when I’m older,” and he started to laugh, “but it is appropriate. I love dogs. I have three at home.”
“Dogs?” Davy was thoroughly confused, and it must have shown on his face for the boy laughed again. “It’s spelled S-I-R-I-U-S, like the Dog Star.” Sirius pointed at the sky as he spoke, but didn’t seem to be trying to point to any particular star. Davy still thought it was the strangest name he’d ever heard. He decided that whomever had created this elaborate joke must have invented the strange name as part of the prank. He wondered again who the creator of the joke was.
“OK, who set all this up?” Davy asked.
“Professor McGonagall wrote to my parents and asked them to speak to you and your parents,” Sirius said as if he were telling the truth. Davy remembered that was the name of the fictional Deputy Headmistress in his letter. “She always arranges for people to meet with the muggle-borns and their families, and since we live in the same village, we were the obvious choice.” Sirius, or whatever his real name was, could certainly lie with a straight face.
“Muggle-borns?”
“Muggles are what we call people who aren’t magical. Your parents are muggles, so you’re a muggle-born wizard.”
“Yeah, right,” said Davy with a smile.
“We’d better go inside,” Sirius said as he jerked a thumb toward the door. “You shouldn’t miss seeing my parents proving to your parents that magic is real.”
Davy led the way. As he reached the living room doorway, he saw a sight that made him stop on the threshold. Mrs. Black was standing in the centre of the room, one upraised hand holding a long, thin stick, and several knick-knacks were dancing in the air around her.
“Cool, huh?” said Sirius’s voice over Davy’s shoulder. Davy just nodded. Where were the wires?
“Welcome, boys,” said Mr. Black with a grin. Whoever these people are, this man really is Sirius’s father, Davy thought, the grins are identical. “I was starting to worry that you had gone flying.”
“Flying?” Davy asked in confusion.
“Great idea, Dad!” exclaimed Sirius. He put a hand on Davy’s shoulder. “C’mon, Davy.”
“Forget it, Sirius,” said Mr. Black sharply. “Why don’t you two come sit down.” Davy and Sirius sat together on the piano bench, the only unoccupied seat in the small room.
“What would you like to see, Davy?” Mrs. Black asked as the knick-knacks settled down on the coffee table. Davy shrugged; he had no idea what to say. He looked inquiringly at Sirius.
“Transfigure something, Mum, or, better yet,” his grin grew wider, “let me.” She frowned at Sirius, and Davy wondered why.
“Up, please, boys,” Mrs. Black said as she gestured toward them with the stick. The wand, Davy mentally corrected himself. Sirius moved a few feet away from the bench and Davy decided to stand near him. He wondered what Mrs. Black was going to do and watched her expectantly. She was looking at the piano bench, as was Sirius, so Davy looked at it too. The black bench suddenly shrank down into a black and white cat. The cat looked up at Davy, blinked his yellow eyes, sat down, and began to wash his face.
“A cat, Mum?” Sirius sounded disappointed. Davy heard Mr. Black speak quietly. The cat grew rapidly and become golden-yellow. The lion ceased washing his face and snarled at Davy and Sirius. Davy heard his mother gasp in fear, but he didn’t dare look away from the enormous beast before him.
“Brilliant, Dad,” said Sirius in a pleased tone.
“Show off,” muttered Mrs. Black, but Davy heard amusement in her tone. A moment later, the lion darkened and shrank into a piano bench again. Had it always had clawed feet? Davy couldn’t remember.
Davy suddenly realized that the letter was not a joke; it was a mistake. These people were clearly magical, but he was not. He could never make objects fly around the room or change a piece of furniture into an animal. He must be what Sirius had called a “muggle.” The letter had been sent to him by mistake.
“You can do that too?” he asked Sirius in astonishment.
“Not as much. I’ve only been at Hogwarts for a year so far. But, by the time I graduate, look out!” Sirius laughed. “And you too, Davy. You’ll learn how to do amazing stuff.
Davy wanted to say that there had been a mistake. He looked at Sirius, grinning from ear to ear, at Mr. and Mrs. Black smiling kindly and looking at him expectantly, at his mother, who had a hand over her mouth as she stared at the piano bench with wide eyes, and at his father, who was frowning as he stared at the letter still in his hand.
“But—what’s the point of it all?” Davy’s father asked. “He’ll learn how to do some tricks, but then what? Will he be able to make a living?”
“Of course he will,” Mr. Black replied. “It’s true that Hogwarts won’t prepare him for a muggle—a non-magical profession, but it will prepare him for any number of professions within the magical community.” Sirius interrupted before he could continue.
“Dad, can Davy and I go outside? I’ll tell him about the professors and the houses and stuff.”
Mr. Black nodded and returned his attention to Mr. Hollerith. “It all depends on what kinds of magic Davy is best at and enjoys…” Davy didn’t hear the rest of the adults’ conversation as he followed Sirius outside. Stepping into the darkness gave him the courage he needed to speak.
“Sirius, I—I think there’s been a mistake. I can’t be a—a—"
“A wizard?”
“Yeah.” Davy sat on the back step and stared at the grass growing between the flagstones at the base of the step. He wondered which was better, knowing that magic existed, but not for him, or being oblivious to it as he had been this morning.
“C’mon, I want to show you something.” Sirius set off across the lawn toward the trees where Davy had first seen the Blacks. After a moment of surprised hesitation, Davy jumped up and followed. He had to jog to catch up to Sirius’s long strides. Sirius stopped at one tree and grabbed the long stick which was leaning against it. Davy stared in surprise—it was a broom with a twig tail. “Want to go flying, Davy?”
Flying? On a broom? Maybe this was all a joke after all. Davy started to laugh. Sirius seemed to mistake Davy’s laughter for agreement for he carried the broom to the lawn and laid it on the grass.
“OK, Davy, stick your right hand over the broom and say, ‘Up’,” Sirius explained. Davy reluctantly walked over, but balled his hands into fists at his sides. He was afraid that nothing would happen, and suddenly just as afraid that something would.
“It’s OK. We don’t have to fly if you don’t want to. In fact, my parents will probably kill me if I take you flying tonight. Just try to get the broomstick to come up to your hand.”
Davy slowly raised his right arm and uncurled his fingers. “Up,” he said quietly. Nothing happened, of course. He felt his cheeks burning and began to lower his arm. He didn’t dare look at Sirius.
“Try again,” Sirius urged, “but this time, say it like you mean it. No broomstick is going to come to you if you sound afraid of it.”
Davy wondered which thought was more bizarre, that brooms could fly, or that they could tell if you were afraid. He decided that if he was going to play along, he might as well do it right. He held his hand over the broom again.
“Up!” Davy commanded. The broom sprang up from the ground into his hand, and he closed his fingers around it in surprise. He stared first at his fist clutching the polished broom handle and then at Sirius, who was, of course, grinning at him.
“If you were a muggle, that broomstick would still be on the ground. Your parents could yell ‘Up’ at it all day and nothing would happen. You, Davy, are a wizard.”
Suddenly, Davy wanted to go flying very much.
Oh, go on. Read what happens in Diagon Alley in Chapter Two!
.
Author: JKLB
Rating: G
Summary: Davy Hollerith doesn't know what to believe when he first gets an acceptance letter to a school for Witches and Wizards, but a visit from his neighbour, Sirius Black, helps convince him that it isn't a hoax.
Author's Note: I wanted to tell the story of a muggle-born witch or wizard getting into Hogwarts, and Davy Hollerith came to mind. Davy and his family were created by CLS for her story Black Shadow. If you wonder why I merely tease you with the character of Uncle Mick—sorry, but you’ll have to read “Black Shadow” to meet him. It’s a wonderful story about how Sirius got his flying motorcycle. (But read it after this story, it will work out better chronologically.)
Disclaimer: Sirius, his friends, and Hogwarts belong to JKR. Davy, his family, and this version of Sirius's parents belong to CLS. Many thanks to CLS for allowing Davy to come over to my house to play.
Chapter One- The Letter
“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore.” Davy Hollerith reread the strange letter silently as he sat on the back step. He had read it countless times since it had arrived earlier that afternoon. His mother had dismissed it as a silly practical joke and forgotten about it, but Davy couldn’t dismiss it as easily. It wasn’t that he believed the letter to be from a real school—how could it be? “Witchcraft and Wizardry”—there were no such things. No, Davy was puzzled because he couldn’t think of anyone he knew who could have dreamt up this letter, “Other equipment: 1 wand, 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2),” and carried out creating it. Some one had gone to a lot of trouble to obtain parchment, green ink, purple sealing wax, and a seal with a strange coat of arms.
“…and I’ll be swamped tomorrow. Everyone always wants to get their car fixed on Saturday.” Davy heard his parents talking in the kitchen behind him. His father had just finished work in his car repair shop next door and was now having a late supper.
“But you’ll be home for supper, won’t you?” his mother asked anxiously. “Mick will be here sometime in the afternoon.” Davy smiled at this. Mick was his mother’s brother and his favorite uncle. His visits were sporadic, but usually memorable.
“I’ll come home when my work’s done,” his father grumbled, and then more gently, “but, yeah, I should be home late afternoon. That’s why I did extra tonight. Davy?”
“Yes, Dad?”
“I want you to help me out tomorrow morning. You’ll be done before your uncle gets here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The sun had set a half an hour earlier, and Davy suddenly shivered as an evening breeze stroked the back of his neck. He stood up to go back inside but paused as he saw movement near the trees at the edge of the back garden. A man, a woman, and a boy about Davy’s age, were emerging from the trees and walking toward the house.
“Hi! Are you David?” the boy called.
“Yeah, I’m Davy.” He felt apprehensive, but didn’t know why. The black-haired boy looked slightly familiar, and Davy thought that he might have seen him in the village.
“I’m Sirius,” the boy said with a grin as he and the two adults reached the back step. Although Davy was on the step and the other boy was standing below, they were standing eye to eye. Davy was just about to ask what the boy was serious about when the man spoke.
“Hi, Davy. We’re Mr. and Mrs. Black.” The tall man extended his hand to Davy, and after a moment’s hesitation, Davy shook it. “Are your parents home?”
“Who is it, Davy?” said his father. Davy turned to see him standing behind the screen door.
“Dad, these are Mr. and Mrs. Black,” he said, and then realizing that the boy had introduced himself, he added, “and this is Serious.” Davy thought that this was the strangest name he had ever heard. Davy’s father merely nodded in greeting and did not open the door.
“We’ve never formally met,” Mrs. Black said to Davy’s father, “but we’re neighbours of yours. We live on the outskirts of the village. We’ve come to talk with you about Hogwarts. My husband and I are alumni, and Sirius is going into his second year in the fall.”
Davy quickly looked down at the letter in his hand and then at the grinning Serious. He realized that his mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. This practical joke was getting even more interesting.
“What’s Hogwarts?” Davy’s father asked in a weary tone.
Davy saw Mr. and Mrs. Black look at each other, and he felt the need to explain. “My dad just got home from work and hasn’t seen the letter yet,” he said quickly. If this was a practical joke, it was too well executed so far to let it fall apart now. And if it wasn’t a joke—but Davy mentally shook himself and didn’t finish that foolish thought. Hogwarts couldn’t be real. Davy opened the screen door and held out the letter to his father. “I was waiting until after—Mum thought that—you should read this.”
Davy’s mother was now beside her husband. “Please come in,” she said as she wiped her hands on her apron and then pulled it off. Practical joke or not, neighbours had come to call, and she wouldn’t leave them standing outside in the night air.
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Black with a smile. She and her husband followed Mrs. Hollerith through the kitchen into the living room. Davy’s father followed the other adults, a puzzled frown on his face as he read the letter. Davy watched them go and wanted to follow, but he felt as if his feet were rooted in place.
“So, is this the coolest thing that ever happened to you, or the weirdest?” asked the other boy.
“Both, I think,” replied Davy. Curiosity got the better of him, and he turned to face the black-haired boy. “Why did your parents name you ‘Serious’?”
“They said that they’ll tell me when I’m older,” and he started to laugh, “but it is appropriate. I love dogs. I have three at home.”
“Dogs?” Davy was thoroughly confused, and it must have shown on his face for the boy laughed again. “It’s spelled S-I-R-I-U-S, like the Dog Star.” Sirius pointed at the sky as he spoke, but didn’t seem to be trying to point to any particular star. Davy still thought it was the strangest name he’d ever heard. He decided that whomever had created this elaborate joke must have invented the strange name as part of the prank. He wondered again who the creator of the joke was.
“OK, who set all this up?” Davy asked.
“Professor McGonagall wrote to my parents and asked them to speak to you and your parents,” Sirius said as if he were telling the truth. Davy remembered that was the name of the fictional Deputy Headmistress in his letter. “She always arranges for people to meet with the muggle-borns and their families, and since we live in the same village, we were the obvious choice.” Sirius, or whatever his real name was, could certainly lie with a straight face.
“Muggle-borns?”
“Muggles are what we call people who aren’t magical. Your parents are muggles, so you’re a muggle-born wizard.”
“Yeah, right,” said Davy with a smile.
“We’d better go inside,” Sirius said as he jerked a thumb toward the door. “You shouldn’t miss seeing my parents proving to your parents that magic is real.”
Davy led the way. As he reached the living room doorway, he saw a sight that made him stop on the threshold. Mrs. Black was standing in the centre of the room, one upraised hand holding a long, thin stick, and several knick-knacks were dancing in the air around her.
“Cool, huh?” said Sirius’s voice over Davy’s shoulder. Davy just nodded. Where were the wires?
“Welcome, boys,” said Mr. Black with a grin. Whoever these people are, this man really is Sirius’s father, Davy thought, the grins are identical. “I was starting to worry that you had gone flying.”
“Flying?” Davy asked in confusion.
“Great idea, Dad!” exclaimed Sirius. He put a hand on Davy’s shoulder. “C’mon, Davy.”
“Forget it, Sirius,” said Mr. Black sharply. “Why don’t you two come sit down.” Davy and Sirius sat together on the piano bench, the only unoccupied seat in the small room.
“What would you like to see, Davy?” Mrs. Black asked as the knick-knacks settled down on the coffee table. Davy shrugged; he had no idea what to say. He looked inquiringly at Sirius.
“Transfigure something, Mum, or, better yet,” his grin grew wider, “let me.” She frowned at Sirius, and Davy wondered why.
“Up, please, boys,” Mrs. Black said as she gestured toward them with the stick. The wand, Davy mentally corrected himself. Sirius moved a few feet away from the bench and Davy decided to stand near him. He wondered what Mrs. Black was going to do and watched her expectantly. She was looking at the piano bench, as was Sirius, so Davy looked at it too. The black bench suddenly shrank down into a black and white cat. The cat looked up at Davy, blinked his yellow eyes, sat down, and began to wash his face.
“A cat, Mum?” Sirius sounded disappointed. Davy heard Mr. Black speak quietly. The cat grew rapidly and become golden-yellow. The lion ceased washing his face and snarled at Davy and Sirius. Davy heard his mother gasp in fear, but he didn’t dare look away from the enormous beast before him.
“Brilliant, Dad,” said Sirius in a pleased tone.
“Show off,” muttered Mrs. Black, but Davy heard amusement in her tone. A moment later, the lion darkened and shrank into a piano bench again. Had it always had clawed feet? Davy couldn’t remember.
Davy suddenly realized that the letter was not a joke; it was a mistake. These people were clearly magical, but he was not. He could never make objects fly around the room or change a piece of furniture into an animal. He must be what Sirius had called a “muggle.” The letter had been sent to him by mistake.
“You can do that too?” he asked Sirius in astonishment.
“Not as much. I’ve only been at Hogwarts for a year so far. But, by the time I graduate, look out!” Sirius laughed. “And you too, Davy. You’ll learn how to do amazing stuff.
Davy wanted to say that there had been a mistake. He looked at Sirius, grinning from ear to ear, at Mr. and Mrs. Black smiling kindly and looking at him expectantly, at his mother, who had a hand over her mouth as she stared at the piano bench with wide eyes, and at his father, who was frowning as he stared at the letter still in his hand.
“But—what’s the point of it all?” Davy’s father asked. “He’ll learn how to do some tricks, but then what? Will he be able to make a living?”
“Of course he will,” Mr. Black replied. “It’s true that Hogwarts won’t prepare him for a muggle—a non-magical profession, but it will prepare him for any number of professions within the magical community.” Sirius interrupted before he could continue.
“Dad, can Davy and I go outside? I’ll tell him about the professors and the houses and stuff.”
Mr. Black nodded and returned his attention to Mr. Hollerith. “It all depends on what kinds of magic Davy is best at and enjoys…” Davy didn’t hear the rest of the adults’ conversation as he followed Sirius outside. Stepping into the darkness gave him the courage he needed to speak.
“Sirius, I—I think there’s been a mistake. I can’t be a—a—"
“A wizard?”
“Yeah.” Davy sat on the back step and stared at the grass growing between the flagstones at the base of the step. He wondered which was better, knowing that magic existed, but not for him, or being oblivious to it as he had been this morning.
“C’mon, I want to show you something.” Sirius set off across the lawn toward the trees where Davy had first seen the Blacks. After a moment of surprised hesitation, Davy jumped up and followed. He had to jog to catch up to Sirius’s long strides. Sirius stopped at one tree and grabbed the long stick which was leaning against it. Davy stared in surprise—it was a broom with a twig tail. “Want to go flying, Davy?”
Flying? On a broom? Maybe this was all a joke after all. Davy started to laugh. Sirius seemed to mistake Davy’s laughter for agreement for he carried the broom to the lawn and laid it on the grass.
“OK, Davy, stick your right hand over the broom and say, ‘Up’,” Sirius explained. Davy reluctantly walked over, but balled his hands into fists at his sides. He was afraid that nothing would happen, and suddenly just as afraid that something would.
“It’s OK. We don’t have to fly if you don’t want to. In fact, my parents will probably kill me if I take you flying tonight. Just try to get the broomstick to come up to your hand.”
Davy slowly raised his right arm and uncurled his fingers. “Up,” he said quietly. Nothing happened, of course. He felt his cheeks burning and began to lower his arm. He didn’t dare look at Sirius.
“Try again,” Sirius urged, “but this time, say it like you mean it. No broomstick is going to come to you if you sound afraid of it.”
Davy wondered which thought was more bizarre, that brooms could fly, or that they could tell if you were afraid. He decided that if he was going to play along, he might as well do it right. He held his hand over the broom again.
“Up!” Davy commanded. The broom sprang up from the ground into his hand, and he closed his fingers around it in surprise. He stared first at his fist clutching the polished broom handle and then at Sirius, who was, of course, grinning at him.
“If you were a muggle, that broomstick would still be on the ground. Your parents could yell ‘Up’ at it all day and nothing would happen. You, Davy, are a wizard.”
Suddenly, Davy wanted to go flying very much.
Oh, go on. Read what happens in Diagon Alley in Chapter Two!
.