The Witch My Mom Was Not (Sent Me an Owl)
Mom had always had a green thumb and a mind I never understood. She used herbal medicine, gave us kids weird-tasting things whenever we were sick, and eventually opened her own apothecary shop, where she still sells all sorts of herbs and concoctions. Her shop is a pretty place. I used to spend time there after school before we both headed home. I’d walk from school, wait until she closed, and that was pretty much all the time we ever spent hanging out, if that even counts. But it was nice. She was happiest there, surrounded by her dried plants and vials. People would come and go, some of them regular customers I knew from the neighborhood. That’s where I met Mrs. Ravenshaw for the first time.
Eleanor Ravenshaw is a fairly tall, slender woman with a very dignified posture, yet a warm look. She has silver-streaked dark brown hair, usually tied in a low chignon. She normally wears long skirts, but I saw her in trousers once, just once. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but if I look anything like Mrs. Ravenshaw when I’m older, I would be thoroughly satisfied. She is so… elegant. She looks powerful. I can’t explain it, it’s just the vibe I get from her. Something in the way she stands tall and how beautiful she is even with some gray hair showing. Mom dyes her hair, she hates her gray. I’m sure Mrs. Ravenshaw is older than Mom, that’s obvious. Still, she’s more attractive. I feel like she knows how beautiful she is, while Mom has never liked herself much. Maybe that’s it, I’m not sure. What I like the most is that she always talks to me when she sees me.
At first, I only ever saw her at Mom’s apothecary shop. Then one day she came to our house to pick up a bag. I was sitting in the front yard with my sketchbook when I saw her crossing the street toward us. She smiled when she saw me and spoke to me once she reached the front gate. My family’s home is an old, somewhat historical house in Stockbridge. My parents always loved that area and made sure to find a house there when we returned after a few years in London. They wanted to go back to the life they had before, to retrieve what was lost. But it was never the same. How could it be? Time didn’t stop while we were gone. People had moved on. Some left, new ones moved in. We became something in between, not completely new, not too familiar either. I think that’s why I never fit in well when we got back.
I wish I knew how long Mrs. Ravenshaw had been living there. I wish I had learned more about her. I hope I can find a way to ask her questions without sounding weird. I don’t want her to think I’m an awkward girl and stop talking to me.
I also feel a bit guilty that I’m so eager to talk to her and not to my mom. To be honest, I feel like Mom is trying to be nicer to me now because I’m a witch and she is not. It almost feels like she’s jealous. It sounds ridiculous, but… is that possible? I don’t understand why now, all of a sudden, she’s so interested in my life. We were never friends. I can’t even say we argued a lot, because that would mean we talked a lot, which we didn’t. And as time went on, I realized she did pay more attention to me than I thought, just not for reasons I would have liked. The time she told her friends about my crush on the boy down the street made me realize I couldn’t trust her. Why did she do that, you ask? Well, judging by the way she laughed while spilling it out during tea with the neighbors, I’d say it was for pure entertainment. I still don’t know why she did it. I’m just glad we moved back to Edinburgh so I don’t have to face those people anymore. It was so embarrassing.
I guess that’s when I started keeping secrets. If my sister hadn’t been around when I first did magic (accidentally, of course), I might never have told anyone until the Hogwarts letter arrived. When it first happened, I felt torn. When something big happens, you should tell your parents, but with Mom, I never knew what she would brush off (even if it mattered to me) or what she would scold me for. She always felt unpredictable. Dad was different, but he wasn’t around much because of work, so most things fell to Mom.
I’m glad Lilian was there when it happened. That gave me the courage to tell her when it happened the second time, and then the third. That’s when we agreed we had to tell someone, so we told Mom. She wasn’t exactly happy, but not unhappy either. She said she’d heard vague stories on her side of the family, a few generations back, but nobody ever knew if they were real or just folklore. Irish people have a history of superstition and strange tales, so it wasn’t like someone had actually claimed there was a witch in the family, just rumors. Still, she didn’t seem surprised. That surprised both Lilian and me. But that’s the thing about Mom, you never know what she’ll say, so you never know how to act.
In all, I can’t say I trust her. But I do love her. I have mixed feelings about the way she’s now suddenly interested in my life, or rather, in magic. Okay, I’ll say it, I don’t think I like it.
This morning, I got mail during breakfast, a letter from Mom saying Mrs. Ravenshaw had talked to her and insisted on sending me a gift. I remember Mom mentioning her back when we went to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies. She said she saw Mrs. Ravenshaw walking into a shop across the street from where we were headed, and she wondered what she was doing there. I didn’t pay attention to the rest. All I could think about was that I was a witch and I was going to Hogwarts to learn magic. I was too distracted to listen to anything else.
The funny part was that I read Mom’s letter after I read Mrs. Ravenshaw’s so it had no effect at all. They arrived almost at the same time, but while Mom’s letter was simply dropped into my hands, the other was held by an owl that landed right in front of me and stayed there.
“Why is this owl staring at me…?” I said out loud without realizing it.
“It’s probably waiting for you to pay it for delivering whatever she brought. Put a coin in the little bag on its… leg? That’s weird. There’s no bag. I don’t know then,” said the kid sitting next to me, shrugging and returning to his food.
I took a coin from my pocket and held it up to the owl to see what it would do. Maybe it would drop the letter and take the coin before flying away. At the sight of the coin, the owl did drop the letter, but didn’t take the coin. It gave me a look like I had offended her, then turned its back to me.
“What did I do…?” I asked the owl as I picked up the envelope. I opened it and found a letter from my neighbor, Mrs. Ravenshaw.
This is what she wrote:
“From the first time I laid eyes on you, I had a feeling you were special. Time has proven my instinct to be quite accurate, and you are yet another proof of it. I know how new all this must feel to you, especially because you are the only one in your family going to Hogwarts, right? Living between two worlds can be very difficult, but also a gift if you learn to navigate them both without losing sight of who you are. In the spirit of traveling between worlds, I would like to give you something that might help you through it.
You may have noticed that the owl who brought you this letter is still standing before you, and if you attempted to pay for the mail service, she refused by turning her back to you, looking a bit offended. That’s because she is yours to keep.
I have not named her. I believe only a pet’s owner has the right to do so, almost like a rite of passage from one person to another. I hope she will be a good companion to you during your time at school. You can use her to send letters or have the local newspaper delivered to you regularly. If you can, I advise you to read the news as much as possible. It will help you understand more of this world you are now a part of. It helped me when I was your age.
And of course, you may always write to me as well, if you’d like.
May your path become clearer as you walk,
Eleanor Ravenshaw”
I stared at the letter for a few seconds as every moment I’d ever seen or spoken to Mrs. Ravenshaw flashed through my mind. Did this mean she was a witch too? It certainly sounded like she knew about magic. Did she imply she had studied at Hogwarts? I can’t explain why, but the thought of her being a witch made me smile. If I had wanted to be like her before, now I wanted it even more. And did she truly mean it when she said I could write to her? Could I ask her questions about magic? That would be so cool, a real witch. I mean, I guess she’s a witch. She didn’t actually say it. Oh, boy, things are never boring around here, are they? Then I heard a soft hoot.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, how could I forget about you? You are so beautiful! I’m so glad to have you!!! You need a name, miss. What should I name you…?”
The owl looked intently at me, waiting.
“Harriet?”
The owl turned her back to me.
“Okay. Not Harriet. How about… Aureline?”
The owl made a startled sound.
“Okay, okay. Too much, I guess. I just want something pretty, but also dignified. You look like you could belong to a queen or something. How about… Althea?”
The owl stood very dignified indeed, slightly opening her wings as if to look bigger.
“Althea it is!” I laughed. “It suits you! We’re going to be great friends, Althea, and we’ll go on amazing adventures together, you’ll love it!”
Now I just have to figure out how this whole having an owl at school thing works…
Eleanor Ravenshaw is a fairly tall, slender woman with a very dignified posture, yet a warm look. She has silver-streaked dark brown hair, usually tied in a low chignon. She normally wears long skirts, but I saw her in trousers once, just once. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but if I look anything like Mrs. Ravenshaw when I’m older, I would be thoroughly satisfied. She is so… elegant. She looks powerful. I can’t explain it, it’s just the vibe I get from her. Something in the way she stands tall and how beautiful she is even with some gray hair showing. Mom dyes her hair, she hates her gray. I’m sure Mrs. Ravenshaw is older than Mom, that’s obvious. Still, she’s more attractive. I feel like she knows how beautiful she is, while Mom has never liked herself much. Maybe that’s it, I’m not sure. What I like the most is that she always talks to me when she sees me.
At first, I only ever saw her at Mom’s apothecary shop. Then one day she came to our house to pick up a bag. I was sitting in the front yard with my sketchbook when I saw her crossing the street toward us. She smiled when she saw me and spoke to me once she reached the front gate. My family’s home is an old, somewhat historical house in Stockbridge. My parents always loved that area and made sure to find a house there when we returned after a few years in London. They wanted to go back to the life they had before, to retrieve what was lost. But it was never the same. How could it be? Time didn’t stop while we were gone. People had moved on. Some left, new ones moved in. We became something in between, not completely new, not too familiar either. I think that’s why I never fit in well when we got back.
I wish I knew how long Mrs. Ravenshaw had been living there. I wish I had learned more about her. I hope I can find a way to ask her questions without sounding weird. I don’t want her to think I’m an awkward girl and stop talking to me.
I also feel a bit guilty that I’m so eager to talk to her and not to my mom. To be honest, I feel like Mom is trying to be nicer to me now because I’m a witch and she is not. It almost feels like she’s jealous. It sounds ridiculous, but… is that possible? I don’t understand why now, all of a sudden, she’s so interested in my life. We were never friends. I can’t even say we argued a lot, because that would mean we talked a lot, which we didn’t. And as time went on, I realized she did pay more attention to me than I thought, just not for reasons I would have liked. The time she told her friends about my crush on the boy down the street made me realize I couldn’t trust her. Why did she do that, you ask? Well, judging by the way she laughed while spilling it out during tea with the neighbors, I’d say it was for pure entertainment. I still don’t know why she did it. I’m just glad we moved back to Edinburgh so I don’t have to face those people anymore. It was so embarrassing.
I guess that’s when I started keeping secrets. If my sister hadn’t been around when I first did magic (accidentally, of course), I might never have told anyone until the Hogwarts letter arrived. When it first happened, I felt torn. When something big happens, you should tell your parents, but with Mom, I never knew what she would brush off (even if it mattered to me) or what she would scold me for. She always felt unpredictable. Dad was different, but he wasn’t around much because of work, so most things fell to Mom.
I’m glad Lilian was there when it happened. That gave me the courage to tell her when it happened the second time, and then the third. That’s when we agreed we had to tell someone, so we told Mom. She wasn’t exactly happy, but not unhappy either. She said she’d heard vague stories on her side of the family, a few generations back, but nobody ever knew if they were real or just folklore. Irish people have a history of superstition and strange tales, so it wasn’t like someone had actually claimed there was a witch in the family, just rumors. Still, she didn’t seem surprised. That surprised both Lilian and me. But that’s the thing about Mom, you never know what she’ll say, so you never know how to act.
In all, I can’t say I trust her. But I do love her. I have mixed feelings about the way she’s now suddenly interested in my life, or rather, in magic. Okay, I’ll say it, I don’t think I like it.
This morning, I got mail during breakfast, a letter from Mom saying Mrs. Ravenshaw had talked to her and insisted on sending me a gift. I remember Mom mentioning her back when we went to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies. She said she saw Mrs. Ravenshaw walking into a shop across the street from where we were headed, and she wondered what she was doing there. I didn’t pay attention to the rest. All I could think about was that I was a witch and I was going to Hogwarts to learn magic. I was too distracted to listen to anything else.
The funny part was that I read Mom’s letter after I read Mrs. Ravenshaw’s so it had no effect at all. They arrived almost at the same time, but while Mom’s letter was simply dropped into my hands, the other was held by an owl that landed right in front of me and stayed there.
“Why is this owl staring at me…?” I said out loud without realizing it.
“It’s probably waiting for you to pay it for delivering whatever she brought. Put a coin in the little bag on its… leg? That’s weird. There’s no bag. I don’t know then,” said the kid sitting next to me, shrugging and returning to his food.
I took a coin from my pocket and held it up to the owl to see what it would do. Maybe it would drop the letter and take the coin before flying away. At the sight of the coin, the owl did drop the letter, but didn’t take the coin. It gave me a look like I had offended her, then turned its back to me.
“What did I do…?” I asked the owl as I picked up the envelope. I opened it and found a letter from my neighbor, Mrs. Ravenshaw.
This is what she wrote:
“From the first time I laid eyes on you, I had a feeling you were special. Time has proven my instinct to be quite accurate, and you are yet another proof of it. I know how new all this must feel to you, especially because you are the only one in your family going to Hogwarts, right? Living between two worlds can be very difficult, but also a gift if you learn to navigate them both without losing sight of who you are. In the spirit of traveling between worlds, I would like to give you something that might help you through it.
You may have noticed that the owl who brought you this letter is still standing before you, and if you attempted to pay for the mail service, she refused by turning her back to you, looking a bit offended. That’s because she is yours to keep.
I have not named her. I believe only a pet’s owner has the right to do so, almost like a rite of passage from one person to another. I hope she will be a good companion to you during your time at school. You can use her to send letters or have the local newspaper delivered to you regularly. If you can, I advise you to read the news as much as possible. It will help you understand more of this world you are now a part of. It helped me when I was your age.
And of course, you may always write to me as well, if you’d like.
May your path become clearer as you walk,
Eleanor Ravenshaw”
I stared at the letter for a few seconds as every moment I’d ever seen or spoken to Mrs. Ravenshaw flashed through my mind. Did this mean she was a witch too? It certainly sounded like she knew about magic. Did she imply she had studied at Hogwarts? I can’t explain why, but the thought of her being a witch made me smile. If I had wanted to be like her before, now I wanted it even more. And did she truly mean it when she said I could write to her? Could I ask her questions about magic? That would be so cool, a real witch. I mean, I guess she’s a witch. She didn’t actually say it. Oh, boy, things are never boring around here, are they? Then I heard a soft hoot.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, how could I forget about you? You are so beautiful! I’m so glad to have you!!! You need a name, miss. What should I name you…?”
The owl looked intently at me, waiting.
“Harriet?”
The owl turned her back to me.
“Okay. Not Harriet. How about… Aureline?”
The owl made a startled sound.
“Okay, okay. Too much, I guess. I just want something pretty, but also dignified. You look like you could belong to a queen or something. How about… Althea?”
The owl stood very dignified indeed, slightly opening her wings as if to look bigger.
“Althea it is!” I laughed. “It suits you! We’re going to be great friends, Althea, and we’ll go on amazing adventures together, you’ll love it!”
Now I just have to figure out how this whole having an owl at school thing works…