A half-blood born between a Ravenclaw would be the most telling subtitle of his auto-biography. Both of his parents were top ranking students of their worlds, both with enough books between them to rival a small library for reading material. Although they promised each other never to force their habits and expectations onto their son, their worries were unfounded. He took to it like a fly to honey.

Emil, born in the seaside town of Oban, settled in quite nicely to the small town life. His mother stayed the course of the magical academic, while his father studied muggle chemistry in attempts to find new breakthroughs. Both of his parents stayed home for the most part, keeping to their research and taking turns spending time raising the boy. It made for a wonderful home life and aside from the occasional trist across town interacting with the locals, it was just him and his parents. And he never minded that one bit.

His father, muggle, yearned to retain some connection to his muggle life and his extended family after marrying a witch. His mother, a pure-blood, was less inclined to that. It's not that she was a purist by any means, herself having been okay with being ex-communicated from her family for marrying a muggle-born. But her in-laws were not the kind to consort with magic-kind. A summer at their muggle farm, days of Emil hiding his maternal magic side, confirmed that.

All in all, it wouldn't matter to Emil for the first 11 years of his life.

The the letter came. Not unexpectedly but recieved with unbridled joy nevertheless. Emil would soon follow in his parent's footsteps, the biggest wish being that he could bring them with him to school. But 2 months before his inagural trip to Kings Crossing, the death of his parents and his home enveloped in blue flames would be the only thing on his mind.

An explosion. His father's work? Surely someone at St. Mungos had tried to explain it to him, but he couldn't wrap his head around it all. No amount of being well read could explain why his parents were here one moment and gone the next. It happened so suddenly, it had seemed almost like a nightmare. It was almost hard to convince himself that it wasn't, save for the place he found himself waking up in. His mother ex-communicated, only his father's extended famiy remained. A familiar farm located in Louth, England....

Emil had been inside his father's personal lab before, if not carried by him then holding hands. But helping in the kitchen with a kid-safe knife they'd taught him to use to cut his own fruit had convinced his parents he could help cut up some herbs for his dad. It had taken him ages of constantly asking his father before Emil wore him down. After all, what 6 year old didn’t want to help their dad do cool things?

As Emil walked down the familiar stairs once more, holding his fathers hand as the glow of the lab peaked through the doorway, his father bent down and told him to be safe and not to touch anything he wasn't allowed to. Emil nodded, beaming with pride. He could finally help his dad!

And as his father stood up and walked into the room with his son, he let go of his hand as a sign he could trust the boy.

Emil proceeded to smile hard, pressing his face together as the excitement was too much to bear. It turns out, a little too literally.

Across the lab, within eyesight, empty glass vials burst one after the other as the shards landed scattered on the desk and the floor. Emil's dad stared wide-eyed, first at the hazards, then at his son.

"Maybe... don't tell your mom about this..."