20 Feb 2018, 07:26
The Early Cynic Tradition
BACKDATED JANUARY 15TH
THE DAY JO RECEIVED HER HOGWARTS LETTER
"Dad," Jo yelled over her shoulder, casting a cautionary glance back towards the portly woman that was standing in the doorway of their Hackney home. Her brown eyes narrowed skeptically as the woman, who had introduced herself as Sylvia, offered her another kind smile. The smile was not reciprocated.
She heard her dad call back, saying he'd be just a moment. Jo remained in front of the doorway, holding onto the handle, swinging back and forth with her eyes never leaving the woman. "He'll be just a minute."
Jo knew better than to let a strange woman into the apartment, if they'd been at her fathers shop things would've been different. She would've welcome the woman with a smile instead of a wary glare but this was Hackney and strangers turning up on your doorstep was never a good thing.
Her father joined them, inviting the stranger inside and fixing her a cup of tea.
The conversation ended with her fathers cup remaining untouched, his mouth agape as he stared from his daughter to the woman and back again.
"Well," he cleared his throat. Jo winced, shrinking down in her seat and unable to meet her fathers eyes. "This certainly explains a lot."
It did.
From the weird occurrences that had surrounded her when she was a baby, to the explosion of objects whenever her brothers tested her temper. They always thought there was something odd about this, they'd always thought it was something to do with Jo but none of them had ever really vocalised it — at least never to her. It was communicated through looks or she'd catch them whispering among themselves.
She knew it in herself that their was something off about her. Off or special? Even now she wasn't sure what category she fell into. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, hands twisting in her lap as Miss Sylvia the Witch from the Ministry of Magic—sort of like the Muggle Government but Magic, Sylvia had explained. What the hell was a Muggle anyway? Apparently non-magic folk, like her family—explained that she'd accompany her to Diagon Alley and answer any questions that Jo or her family had about the Magical Community.
"Is it mandatory? Can't I just go with my dad?" Jo spoke for the first time since the revelation.
"No it isn't, but it's highly encouraged. I wouldn't want you to get lost and maybe you'll be able to meet other witches and wizards your age that'll be joining you at Hogwarts." Miss Sylvia replied, her smile was sugary sweet smile and tone dripping with honey. It made Jo dislike her immediately.
Still, she wondered if there were more kids like her and if they were just as confused as she was.
"What a strange name for a school." Her father muttered, the corner of his lips turning up into a small smile. It made Jo relax, the weird feeling of guilt and dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach lessened at the sight of her fathers smile. "And any questions we have we can reach out to you? And she can tell her brothers?" The woman nodded and Jo slipped off the chair, already aware that the three boys were eavesdropping in the next room.
"I'm going to go," Jo interjected, leaving her father to continue questioning Sylvia. Her head was spinning, overflowing with a million thoughts that she couldn't properly process and she was hoping her brothers could at least being to help her make sense of it all.
THE DAY JO RECEIVED HER HOGWARTS LETTER
"Dad," Jo yelled over her shoulder, casting a cautionary glance back towards the portly woman that was standing in the doorway of their Hackney home. Her brown eyes narrowed skeptically as the woman, who had introduced herself as Sylvia, offered her another kind smile. The smile was not reciprocated.
She heard her dad call back, saying he'd be just a moment. Jo remained in front of the doorway, holding onto the handle, swinging back and forth with her eyes never leaving the woman. "He'll be just a minute."
Jo knew better than to let a strange woman into the apartment, if they'd been at her fathers shop things would've been different. She would've welcome the woman with a smile instead of a wary glare but this was Hackney and strangers turning up on your doorstep was never a good thing.
Her father joined them, inviting the stranger inside and fixing her a cup of tea.
The conversation ended with her fathers cup remaining untouched, his mouth agape as he stared from his daughter to the woman and back again.
"Well," he cleared his throat. Jo winced, shrinking down in her seat and unable to meet her fathers eyes. "This certainly explains a lot."
It did.
From the weird occurrences that had surrounded her when she was a baby, to the explosion of objects whenever her brothers tested her temper. They always thought there was something odd about this, they'd always thought it was something to do with Jo but none of them had ever really vocalised it — at least never to her. It was communicated through looks or she'd catch them whispering among themselves.
She knew it in herself that their was something off about her. Off or special? Even now she wasn't sure what category she fell into. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, hands twisting in her lap as Miss Sylvia the Witch from the Ministry of Magic—sort of like the Muggle Government but Magic, Sylvia had explained. What the hell was a Muggle anyway? Apparently non-magic folk, like her family—explained that she'd accompany her to Diagon Alley and answer any questions that Jo or her family had about the Magical Community.
"Is it mandatory? Can't I just go with my dad?" Jo spoke for the first time since the revelation.
"No it isn't, but it's highly encouraged. I wouldn't want you to get lost and maybe you'll be able to meet other witches and wizards your age that'll be joining you at Hogwarts." Miss Sylvia replied, her smile was sugary sweet smile and tone dripping with honey. It made Jo dislike her immediately.
Still, she wondered if there were more kids like her and if they were just as confused as she was.
"What a strange name for a school." Her father muttered, the corner of his lips turning up into a small smile. It made Jo relax, the weird feeling of guilt and dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach lessened at the sight of her fathers smile. "And any questions we have we can reach out to you? And she can tell her brothers?" The woman nodded and Jo slipped off the chair, already aware that the three boys were eavesdropping in the next room.
"I'm going to go," Jo interjected, leaving her father to continue questioning Sylvia. Her head was spinning, overflowing with a million thoughts that she couldn't properly process and she was hoping her brothers could at least being to help her make sense of it all.