Post by Brooke Edwards on Sept 27, 2009 16:18:47 GMT -5
So, this is some Fanfiction that I've been working on. The main plotline isn't completely formed in my head yet, but that's alright. This is the introduction.
In this story it is in the time of Harry Potter's children going to school. James is in his sixth year, Albus is in his fourth and Lily is in her third year with Brooke. The Weasleys are also in school with Brooke. None of the characters in it have anything to do with HOH. I started it before I started Rping on this site.
Comments please, but keep in mind that this is a rough draft. No mean comments please, only constructive.
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Introduction
The clock on the wall in the Edwards Family living room was an old family heirloom, given to Martin Edwards by his old Grandmother. It was an old antique clock, made of garnished cedar wood and had two owls engraved on the sides. The face of the clock had all twelve numbers written in old script and they were made of an old copper metal, which had been painted black. The three hands seemed to move at the proper pace and they were always on the exact right time. The clock had never been broken, or touched by any clock repairman. It had never had yearly check-ups, or had to be wound. It had been the same for almost forty-five years, without it losing any battery power, assuming that it is powered by battery, that is.
Nobody in the Edwards family had ever asked about the mystical clock. Most of them had thought is haunted or cursed. Every family member who had owned had died in a tragic accident or had been excommunicated from the family. The reason for this was unknown and nobody in the entire family had ever questioned it.
One evening little Brooke Edwards, who was only eight years old, sat in the living room, watching the clock apprehensively. Brooke was an odd child in the Edwards family. The Edwards were known for their normalcy, but their daughter was anything but. Her appearance, blue boy-cut hair and bright orange eyes, was only the first part of her oddity. She had also always been able to make things happen. Whether it be changing her hair colour or throwing eggs without moving her hands. This evening, she was waiting for her mother to return from the kitchen. Her mother was talking to someone unknown on the phone. Brooke was sitting in the living room, wearing the remains of her Halloween costume, which had been a vampire outfit. She was looking at the clock every five seconds, thinking about what her punishment would be. She had always found the clock a very eerie, because of the stories that her cousins had told her about it.
“I heard,” said her cousin George’s voice in Brooke’s head. “I heard that Auntie Midge, who used to own the clock before Grandma, she was killed in an elevator accident. She had decided that before she left work that morning she would try to open the clock to see if it needed mending. Apparently she touched it and the hands turned into a mouth and yelled ‘Oy! Get your hands off! That’s not yours!’ Then, while she was thinking of the clock yelling she accidentally stepped into the empty elevator shaft.” Brooke had last seen him at their last reunion with her disgusting Aunt Helga. She’s never heard of an Aunt Midge and she’s figured that George had been making the whole thing up.
But she was still curious about the clock. As she stared up at it, the clock seemed to look a lot bigger that Brooke knew it was. Every time the seconds hand moved it seemed to shake the whole house and make a loud booming noise. Brooke seriously thought she saw one of the owl carvings on the side move. She stared, suddenly afraid. Out of curiosity Brooke stood up and crossed to room towards the clock. She was determined not to be afraid of the clock. It was only an inanimate object, right? Walking across the living room seemed to take a lifetime. Every step was so slow and the clock appeared to get bigger. After what seemed like an hour, Brooke reached the clock. It was leering above her, hanging on the wall, which is where resided for as long as anyone in the Edwards family could remember. Brooke slowly reached out her hand to touch its face, to show it that she was not afraid of it. It was just a clock after all. It shouldn’t hurt just to touch it. Brooke’s fingers inched closer and she had to go on her toes to reach it.
“BROOKE!?” Her mother’s scream made eight-year-old Brooke Edwards stumble back from the clock. She tripped over her vampire cape and fell on her bottom. “WHAT did you think you were DOING??” Brooke made no response, but she looked up at the clock again, to see if it was indeed laughing at her. The clock had jumped back to normal. It now looked the way a clock was supposed to look. Brooke was disappointed at herself for being so foolish.
“Why did you want to touch that clock?!” Brooke’s mother, Viola, hauled her up off the floor and placed her back on the couch looking at her seriously. “You know it’s an antique and you could’ve broken it.” Brooke knew this wasn’t the real reason why her mother hadn’t wanted her to touch it. Viola was the biggest supporter of the fact that the clock was haunted. Brooke’s father, Martin, was the only one who though it was poppycock.
Viola shook her head and sat down on the couch next to Brooke. She was looking paler than usual and had dark bags under her eyes. Her usual bright blond hair now had streaks of gray in it and her eyes were looking exceptionally dull. It was getting very late and Brooke knew her mother was exhausted. Brooke wanted to know what her punishment would be so that she could go to bed and deal with it in the morning. She hoped it wouldn’t be anything too severe, like being grounded. She hated the thought of being at home with her father all day while he talked about figures and numbers. He was a Mathematician, so that was all he did all day; math. Brooke personally hated the subject.
“What am I going to do with you?” Viola asked Brooke, rhetorically. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble this time Brookie. If the neighbors thought your odd hair was weird enough, then what are they going to think of this? We’re going to have to move again.” Viola stuck her head in her hands and looked at the floor. Brooke was immediately confused. What had she done wrong?
“I didn’t do anything,” Brooke whispered. “They were trying to-” Her mother stopped her words with a sharp look. Brooke knew then that it was no longer time for her to speak. She sat on her couch, with her bag of candy next to her on the couch. The time seemed to tick by. Viola didn’t move, so Brooke looked back at her Grandmother’s clock. She wondered if the clock had thought it had won from her mother’s small distraction. She knew she would get at it one day. The hands began to move slowly again and Brooke was very close to asking her mother what they were waiting for. Her father had gone to a dinner party and wasn’t expected back until late, but Brooke knew that her mother was not waiting for him.
Suddenly, Brooke heard an odd ‘pop’ noise come from inside her kitchen. The light was turned off, so it was rather dark. She heard someone talking to themselves in the kitchen. There were mumblings of “maybe this is the wrong house.” Or “ that is a brand new toaster.” Brooke looked at her mother, who had heard the noise also. Viola looked at her daughter, as though telling her to stay put, and then proceeded to the kitchen to greet the stranger. Brooke moved to the other end of the couch so that she could hear what they were saying. The light suddenly turned on in the kitchen and there was the sound of a pleasant surprise.
“Oh!” said a male voice. It sounded airy and cheerful. “Hello! I wondered if I’d landed in the right house. It would have been unfortunate it you had moved.” It sounded a bit eccentric. Brooke couldn’t hear her mother’s response, because it was in a whisper as though someone had died. After her mother spoke, Brooke heard a gasp. The floorboards squeaked as the stranger came into the living and looked at Brooke with wide eyes.
He was the strangest man that Brooke had ever seen. He was wearing long maroon coloured robes and went all the way down to his feet. He also had a pointed hat on the top of his head, which reminded Brooke of a witch hat. He seemed very tall and thin, with a long neck. His face was round and friendly though, and there was an interesting sparkle in brown eyes. He had black wavy hair, which had a few streaks of gray in it. He also had an afternoon shadow that blanketed his face. He also had little round spectacles at the end of his nose that looked twisted and bent.
“Well, Hello there,” The man said, smiling at Brooke. “You must be Brooke. I’ve heard so much about you from your mother. My, my, you are special aren’t you? I didn’t believe her when she told me. Oh! The blue hair! Brilliant!” He crossed the living room while he spoke, his eyes full of wonder. He was smiling very brightly, but it was freaking Brooke out a little. She frowned at him and said snobbily.
“And you are?” she smirked. This only made the man smile wider, but Brooke’s mother got angry.
“Brooke!” She shouted, following the man into the room. “That’s not the way you talk to family!” Viola’s proud look faltered on the word family. Brooke had never seen this man before in her life. How could he be family? He didn’t look like her mother at all. And he was increasingly odd.
“Family?!” Brooke asked, looking at her mother as though she was crazy.
“Yes,” Her mother said, calming down. She then sat down next to Brooke, looking at the weird man who stood across the room. “This is your Uncle. His name is Bryan.” Brooke had heard of Uncle Bryan before. Her cousin George had told her that a wild bear had killed her Uncle Bryan after playing with the clock as a child. Brooke looked from her uncle to her mother with shock. So George didn’t make this family up. Brooke was shocked.
“But,” Brooke questioned. “Uncle Bryan died. George told me all about it.” With that comment, Uncle Bryan laughed, causing his spectacles fall onto the floor. The glass on the cracked and one of the lenses fell out. Viola Edwards immediately went to clean it up, but Uncle Bryan waved his hand and picked up his broken glasses. Then he pulled out a wooden stick, which fit into his hand. Viola gasped and hid her eyes, while Brooke looked closer. She was incredibly fascinated by her uncle. He then muttered a few words and the glasses were fixed. Brooke blinked twice and her mouth hung open. Her vampire fangs fell out of her mouth and into her lap.
“How did you do that?” Brooke said, enthusiastically. Her mother however looked like someone had just died.
“Bryan!” She screamed. “You promised that there would be none of that oddity in this house!!” Bryan looked up, still smiling, and he placed his spectacles back on his nose. The twinkle in his eyes grew as he looked upon Brooke again, who was looking at him with extreme curiosity. Without doing anything, Brooke’s hair then changed to a dark brown colour, the same as her Uncle’s eyes. Her mother screamed again and then left the room sobbing. She muttered things like “freaks,” and “in my own family.” Viola went into the kitchen and Brooke heard the tap being run. Viola always cleaned when she was upset.
“Do you really want to know?” Uncle Bryan asked, in response to Brooke’s question. He completely ignored his sister-in-law. Brooke shook her head vividly. “Well, Brooke. I’m a wizard,” Silence hung in the air like a leaf falling to the ground. Brooke at first couldn’t believe it, but he did have proof. Brooke was shocked and happy. Could this really be true? Or was she having an odd vision from too much Halloween candy?
“So are you Brooke,” Uncle Bryan said, almost at a whisper. Brooke’s heard skipped a beat. “Or a witch, to be perfectly correct. Didn’t you ever wonder why your hair changed colours? Or why you could do things, unexplainable things? You are special Brooke, even for a witch.” Her eyes went wide and a smiled crept across her face. A witch? This couldn’t be real.
“STOP!” There was a loud splash from the kitchen and Brooke watched her mother enter the living room looking enraged. “Don’t talk of her as though she’s one of you! I refuse to believe it!” Brooke had never seen her mother so angry. Viola Edwards face was so red and her usually neat hair had begun to come out of her usual roll. It was splayed around her face. Her eyes were wide and she looked like she was about to pop. “She is not one of you! I will not let my daughter be…be…be a w-w-witch!” Viola’s hands were covered in soap and she collapsed on the floor sobbing. Uncle Bryan stood up immediately and went to go help her off the floor.
“Get off me, Freak!” She shouted, fleeing the room and running for the phone. Uncle Bryan suddenly panicked and looked at Brooke quickly. The little Edwards girl was utterly confused. Why was her mother so angry? Wouldn’t she like to have a witch in the family? She sat, lost in her own thoughts. Her Uncle ran into the kitchen to console Viola.
“Vi, please. I’m sorry,” Uncle Bryan’s voice came from the kitchen. “I’m just telling you the truth. It’s what she needed to hear.” There was more sobbing.
“It can’t be true.” Her mother sounded broken inside. “I just don’t believe it.” The sobbing was suddenly muffled and Brooke guessed that Bryan was giving her mother a hug.
“You saw the evidence with your own eyes, Viola.” Bryan’s voice sounded tender and loving. “She is what she is. You and I can’t change that. I had expected it to come up. Martin is the only one on our family's side, who is not magi… like us. I’m sorry.” Brooke couldn’t figure out why he was apologizing. Was he sorry that she was a witch? Maybe he didn’t want it as much as her mother.
“Just hang up the phone and come to the living room.” There was a shuffling of steps and Uncle Bryan and Viola Edwards came back into the room. Brooke’s mother’s make-up had run all over her face. There were streaks of tears running down her face. Uncle Bryan had his arm around her and he sat her down on the couch, next to Brooke. Brooke turned to her mother, who embraced her in a watery hug. Brooke was not used to her mother embracing her this way, but she relaxed eventually, giving in to her mother’s forceful hug. Bryan stood on the other side of the room, looking at the family clock.
Later, after Brooke’s father had come home to his brother and wife, in this awkward situation, Brooke went to bed. It was very late and she had had the craziest evening. Her father had been dreadfully angry, especially at seeing his brother, the crazy family wizard. Her father’s life had been brought to tatters from discovering his daughter’s ‘oddity’. He had sent Brooke to bed without any of her Halloween candy, or her birthday presents. Halloween was Brooke’s birthday and she always got her presents after her trick-or-treating. Martin Edwards was unsure of what to think of his daughter. A witch?
“So you’re telling me,” Martin said to his brother, later in the evening. “That my daughter has…magic abilities? That’s impossible. I was the only child in the family without them. How is it that she ended up with magic?” As a child, Martin had known about wizards and witches, but he did not have any magic ability. His mother had been incredibly upset, when she had to send him to a real school. His brother, Bryan, however was extremely magic and all of the friends Bryan brought home from his freak school called Martin weird names, like ‘squib’ or ‘muggle’. Martin had no clue what these things meant. He had always resented Bryan for his weird friends. Martin had always felt left out.
When Martin went to college he left the magic world behind. He cut himself off from his family and lived a completely muggle life. After Martin married Viola, he suddenly realized how difficult it was to leave the magic world. He noticed all of the witches and wizards in the family that he married in too. Fortunately for Martin, Viola’s family excommunicated anyone they found to be a witch or wizard. People like Aunt Helga took pride in the fact that there were no ‘odd’ people in the family.
“If you’re wife is right about what Brooke did to your neighbor,” Bryan responded. He was nodding in wonder. “Then she is a witch, through and through. I always knew you had magic blood in you, Martin.” At the word magic, Martin shuttered to think of that filth in his blood.
“Not only is she a witch, Martin.” Bryan continued. “I think she’s a metamorphmagus. She can change appearance at will, just like Grandma could. She’s brilliant Martin surely you must see that. Your daughter is beautiful. I’m sorry that I haven’t known her longer.” Bryan stopped when he saw the look of disgust on his brother’s face. He knew that he would lose this argument about Brooke. Martin would have to send her away.
“You can’t imagine how I feel right now, Bryan,” Martin said stiffly. In the background there was the scraping of dishes, from the kitchen. Viola was still finding things to clean. “I just discovered that my daughter is what I’ve been trying to avoid my whole life. Do you know why I never spoke to you again after I left? Because of you and your ‘brilliant’ oddity. You know I could never stand the way mom would smile as you showed off your…your…m-m-magic,” Martin spit the last word as though it were poisonous.
“Martin,” Bryan said softly, looking down. “You can’t mean that this make you unhappy. Brooke is obviously very talented.” Martin stood up suddenly from his chair and knocked it over. He was shaking with rage.
“HOW DARE YOU!” Martin yelled. “You call that TALENT?? That ‘talent’ makes my only daughter a FREAK! How do think I feel, Bryan? Happy about that?” Martin was shaking all over. He knew that Brooke might hear him, but he didn’t care. Martin didn’t know what to think of his daughter at this moment. He knew that he loved her, but was unsure of his ability to live with that ‘magic’ in the house.
“There is only one thing to do about this Bryan,” Martin said, calming himself down. His wife came in to the room at this moment, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She ran to her husband and embraced him. Martin, who hadn’t been looking for a hug, felt himself relax in his wife’s arms. He looked at her and she nodded. They both knew what had to happen with their daughter.
In this story it is in the time of Harry Potter's children going to school. James is in his sixth year, Albus is in his fourth and Lily is in her third year with Brooke. The Weasleys are also in school with Brooke. None of the characters in it have anything to do with HOH. I started it before I started Rping on this site.
Comments please, but keep in mind that this is a rough draft. No mean comments please, only constructive.
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Introduction
The clock on the wall in the Edwards Family living room was an old family heirloom, given to Martin Edwards by his old Grandmother. It was an old antique clock, made of garnished cedar wood and had two owls engraved on the sides. The face of the clock had all twelve numbers written in old script and they were made of an old copper metal, which had been painted black. The three hands seemed to move at the proper pace and they were always on the exact right time. The clock had never been broken, or touched by any clock repairman. It had never had yearly check-ups, or had to be wound. It had been the same for almost forty-five years, without it losing any battery power, assuming that it is powered by battery, that is.
Nobody in the Edwards family had ever asked about the mystical clock. Most of them had thought is haunted or cursed. Every family member who had owned had died in a tragic accident or had been excommunicated from the family. The reason for this was unknown and nobody in the entire family had ever questioned it.
One evening little Brooke Edwards, who was only eight years old, sat in the living room, watching the clock apprehensively. Brooke was an odd child in the Edwards family. The Edwards were known for their normalcy, but their daughter was anything but. Her appearance, blue boy-cut hair and bright orange eyes, was only the first part of her oddity. She had also always been able to make things happen. Whether it be changing her hair colour or throwing eggs without moving her hands. This evening, she was waiting for her mother to return from the kitchen. Her mother was talking to someone unknown on the phone. Brooke was sitting in the living room, wearing the remains of her Halloween costume, which had been a vampire outfit. She was looking at the clock every five seconds, thinking about what her punishment would be. She had always found the clock a very eerie, because of the stories that her cousins had told her about it.
“I heard,” said her cousin George’s voice in Brooke’s head. “I heard that Auntie Midge, who used to own the clock before Grandma, she was killed in an elevator accident. She had decided that before she left work that morning she would try to open the clock to see if it needed mending. Apparently she touched it and the hands turned into a mouth and yelled ‘Oy! Get your hands off! That’s not yours!’ Then, while she was thinking of the clock yelling she accidentally stepped into the empty elevator shaft.” Brooke had last seen him at their last reunion with her disgusting Aunt Helga. She’s never heard of an Aunt Midge and she’s figured that George had been making the whole thing up.
But she was still curious about the clock. As she stared up at it, the clock seemed to look a lot bigger that Brooke knew it was. Every time the seconds hand moved it seemed to shake the whole house and make a loud booming noise. Brooke seriously thought she saw one of the owl carvings on the side move. She stared, suddenly afraid. Out of curiosity Brooke stood up and crossed to room towards the clock. She was determined not to be afraid of the clock. It was only an inanimate object, right? Walking across the living room seemed to take a lifetime. Every step was so slow and the clock appeared to get bigger. After what seemed like an hour, Brooke reached the clock. It was leering above her, hanging on the wall, which is where resided for as long as anyone in the Edwards family could remember. Brooke slowly reached out her hand to touch its face, to show it that she was not afraid of it. It was just a clock after all. It shouldn’t hurt just to touch it. Brooke’s fingers inched closer and she had to go on her toes to reach it.
“BROOKE!?” Her mother’s scream made eight-year-old Brooke Edwards stumble back from the clock. She tripped over her vampire cape and fell on her bottom. “WHAT did you think you were DOING??” Brooke made no response, but she looked up at the clock again, to see if it was indeed laughing at her. The clock had jumped back to normal. It now looked the way a clock was supposed to look. Brooke was disappointed at herself for being so foolish.
“Why did you want to touch that clock?!” Brooke’s mother, Viola, hauled her up off the floor and placed her back on the couch looking at her seriously. “You know it’s an antique and you could’ve broken it.” Brooke knew this wasn’t the real reason why her mother hadn’t wanted her to touch it. Viola was the biggest supporter of the fact that the clock was haunted. Brooke’s father, Martin, was the only one who though it was poppycock.
Viola shook her head and sat down on the couch next to Brooke. She was looking paler than usual and had dark bags under her eyes. Her usual bright blond hair now had streaks of gray in it and her eyes were looking exceptionally dull. It was getting very late and Brooke knew her mother was exhausted. Brooke wanted to know what her punishment would be so that she could go to bed and deal with it in the morning. She hoped it wouldn’t be anything too severe, like being grounded. She hated the thought of being at home with her father all day while he talked about figures and numbers. He was a Mathematician, so that was all he did all day; math. Brooke personally hated the subject.
“What am I going to do with you?” Viola asked Brooke, rhetorically. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble this time Brookie. If the neighbors thought your odd hair was weird enough, then what are they going to think of this? We’re going to have to move again.” Viola stuck her head in her hands and looked at the floor. Brooke was immediately confused. What had she done wrong?
“I didn’t do anything,” Brooke whispered. “They were trying to-” Her mother stopped her words with a sharp look. Brooke knew then that it was no longer time for her to speak. She sat on her couch, with her bag of candy next to her on the couch. The time seemed to tick by. Viola didn’t move, so Brooke looked back at her Grandmother’s clock. She wondered if the clock had thought it had won from her mother’s small distraction. She knew she would get at it one day. The hands began to move slowly again and Brooke was very close to asking her mother what they were waiting for. Her father had gone to a dinner party and wasn’t expected back until late, but Brooke knew that her mother was not waiting for him.
Suddenly, Brooke heard an odd ‘pop’ noise come from inside her kitchen. The light was turned off, so it was rather dark. She heard someone talking to themselves in the kitchen. There were mumblings of “maybe this is the wrong house.” Or “ that is a brand new toaster.” Brooke looked at her mother, who had heard the noise also. Viola looked at her daughter, as though telling her to stay put, and then proceeded to the kitchen to greet the stranger. Brooke moved to the other end of the couch so that she could hear what they were saying. The light suddenly turned on in the kitchen and there was the sound of a pleasant surprise.
“Oh!” said a male voice. It sounded airy and cheerful. “Hello! I wondered if I’d landed in the right house. It would have been unfortunate it you had moved.” It sounded a bit eccentric. Brooke couldn’t hear her mother’s response, because it was in a whisper as though someone had died. After her mother spoke, Brooke heard a gasp. The floorboards squeaked as the stranger came into the living and looked at Brooke with wide eyes.
He was the strangest man that Brooke had ever seen. He was wearing long maroon coloured robes and went all the way down to his feet. He also had a pointed hat on the top of his head, which reminded Brooke of a witch hat. He seemed very tall and thin, with a long neck. His face was round and friendly though, and there was an interesting sparkle in brown eyes. He had black wavy hair, which had a few streaks of gray in it. He also had an afternoon shadow that blanketed his face. He also had little round spectacles at the end of his nose that looked twisted and bent.
“Well, Hello there,” The man said, smiling at Brooke. “You must be Brooke. I’ve heard so much about you from your mother. My, my, you are special aren’t you? I didn’t believe her when she told me. Oh! The blue hair! Brilliant!” He crossed the living room while he spoke, his eyes full of wonder. He was smiling very brightly, but it was freaking Brooke out a little. She frowned at him and said snobbily.
“And you are?” she smirked. This only made the man smile wider, but Brooke’s mother got angry.
“Brooke!” She shouted, following the man into the room. “That’s not the way you talk to family!” Viola’s proud look faltered on the word family. Brooke had never seen this man before in her life. How could he be family? He didn’t look like her mother at all. And he was increasingly odd.
“Family?!” Brooke asked, looking at her mother as though she was crazy.
“Yes,” Her mother said, calming down. She then sat down next to Brooke, looking at the weird man who stood across the room. “This is your Uncle. His name is Bryan.” Brooke had heard of Uncle Bryan before. Her cousin George had told her that a wild bear had killed her Uncle Bryan after playing with the clock as a child. Brooke looked from her uncle to her mother with shock. So George didn’t make this family up. Brooke was shocked.
“But,” Brooke questioned. “Uncle Bryan died. George told me all about it.” With that comment, Uncle Bryan laughed, causing his spectacles fall onto the floor. The glass on the cracked and one of the lenses fell out. Viola Edwards immediately went to clean it up, but Uncle Bryan waved his hand and picked up his broken glasses. Then he pulled out a wooden stick, which fit into his hand. Viola gasped and hid her eyes, while Brooke looked closer. She was incredibly fascinated by her uncle. He then muttered a few words and the glasses were fixed. Brooke blinked twice and her mouth hung open. Her vampire fangs fell out of her mouth and into her lap.
“How did you do that?” Brooke said, enthusiastically. Her mother however looked like someone had just died.
“Bryan!” She screamed. “You promised that there would be none of that oddity in this house!!” Bryan looked up, still smiling, and he placed his spectacles back on his nose. The twinkle in his eyes grew as he looked upon Brooke again, who was looking at him with extreme curiosity. Without doing anything, Brooke’s hair then changed to a dark brown colour, the same as her Uncle’s eyes. Her mother screamed again and then left the room sobbing. She muttered things like “freaks,” and “in my own family.” Viola went into the kitchen and Brooke heard the tap being run. Viola always cleaned when she was upset.
“Do you really want to know?” Uncle Bryan asked, in response to Brooke’s question. He completely ignored his sister-in-law. Brooke shook her head vividly. “Well, Brooke. I’m a wizard,” Silence hung in the air like a leaf falling to the ground. Brooke at first couldn’t believe it, but he did have proof. Brooke was shocked and happy. Could this really be true? Or was she having an odd vision from too much Halloween candy?
“So are you Brooke,” Uncle Bryan said, almost at a whisper. Brooke’s heard skipped a beat. “Or a witch, to be perfectly correct. Didn’t you ever wonder why your hair changed colours? Or why you could do things, unexplainable things? You are special Brooke, even for a witch.” Her eyes went wide and a smiled crept across her face. A witch? This couldn’t be real.
“STOP!” There was a loud splash from the kitchen and Brooke watched her mother enter the living room looking enraged. “Don’t talk of her as though she’s one of you! I refuse to believe it!” Brooke had never seen her mother so angry. Viola Edwards face was so red and her usually neat hair had begun to come out of her usual roll. It was splayed around her face. Her eyes were wide and she looked like she was about to pop. “She is not one of you! I will not let my daughter be…be…be a w-w-witch!” Viola’s hands were covered in soap and she collapsed on the floor sobbing. Uncle Bryan stood up immediately and went to go help her off the floor.
“Get off me, Freak!” She shouted, fleeing the room and running for the phone. Uncle Bryan suddenly panicked and looked at Brooke quickly. The little Edwards girl was utterly confused. Why was her mother so angry? Wouldn’t she like to have a witch in the family? She sat, lost in her own thoughts. Her Uncle ran into the kitchen to console Viola.
“Vi, please. I’m sorry,” Uncle Bryan’s voice came from the kitchen. “I’m just telling you the truth. It’s what she needed to hear.” There was more sobbing.
“It can’t be true.” Her mother sounded broken inside. “I just don’t believe it.” The sobbing was suddenly muffled and Brooke guessed that Bryan was giving her mother a hug.
“You saw the evidence with your own eyes, Viola.” Bryan’s voice sounded tender and loving. “She is what she is. You and I can’t change that. I had expected it to come up. Martin is the only one on our family's side, who is not magi… like us. I’m sorry.” Brooke couldn’t figure out why he was apologizing. Was he sorry that she was a witch? Maybe he didn’t want it as much as her mother.
“Just hang up the phone and come to the living room.” There was a shuffling of steps and Uncle Bryan and Viola Edwards came back into the room. Brooke’s mother’s make-up had run all over her face. There were streaks of tears running down her face. Uncle Bryan had his arm around her and he sat her down on the couch, next to Brooke. Brooke turned to her mother, who embraced her in a watery hug. Brooke was not used to her mother embracing her this way, but she relaxed eventually, giving in to her mother’s forceful hug. Bryan stood on the other side of the room, looking at the family clock.
Later, after Brooke’s father had come home to his brother and wife, in this awkward situation, Brooke went to bed. It was very late and she had had the craziest evening. Her father had been dreadfully angry, especially at seeing his brother, the crazy family wizard. Her father’s life had been brought to tatters from discovering his daughter’s ‘oddity’. He had sent Brooke to bed without any of her Halloween candy, or her birthday presents. Halloween was Brooke’s birthday and she always got her presents after her trick-or-treating. Martin Edwards was unsure of what to think of his daughter. A witch?
“So you’re telling me,” Martin said to his brother, later in the evening. “That my daughter has…magic abilities? That’s impossible. I was the only child in the family without them. How is it that she ended up with magic?” As a child, Martin had known about wizards and witches, but he did not have any magic ability. His mother had been incredibly upset, when she had to send him to a real school. His brother, Bryan, however was extremely magic and all of the friends Bryan brought home from his freak school called Martin weird names, like ‘squib’ or ‘muggle’. Martin had no clue what these things meant. He had always resented Bryan for his weird friends. Martin had always felt left out.
When Martin went to college he left the magic world behind. He cut himself off from his family and lived a completely muggle life. After Martin married Viola, he suddenly realized how difficult it was to leave the magic world. He noticed all of the witches and wizards in the family that he married in too. Fortunately for Martin, Viola’s family excommunicated anyone they found to be a witch or wizard. People like Aunt Helga took pride in the fact that there were no ‘odd’ people in the family.
“If you’re wife is right about what Brooke did to your neighbor,” Bryan responded. He was nodding in wonder. “Then she is a witch, through and through. I always knew you had magic blood in you, Martin.” At the word magic, Martin shuttered to think of that filth in his blood.
“Not only is she a witch, Martin.” Bryan continued. “I think she’s a metamorphmagus. She can change appearance at will, just like Grandma could. She’s brilliant Martin surely you must see that. Your daughter is beautiful. I’m sorry that I haven’t known her longer.” Bryan stopped when he saw the look of disgust on his brother’s face. He knew that he would lose this argument about Brooke. Martin would have to send her away.
“You can’t imagine how I feel right now, Bryan,” Martin said stiffly. In the background there was the scraping of dishes, from the kitchen. Viola was still finding things to clean. “I just discovered that my daughter is what I’ve been trying to avoid my whole life. Do you know why I never spoke to you again after I left? Because of you and your ‘brilliant’ oddity. You know I could never stand the way mom would smile as you showed off your…your…m-m-magic,” Martin spit the last word as though it were poisonous.
“Martin,” Bryan said softly, looking down. “You can’t mean that this make you unhappy. Brooke is obviously very talented.” Martin stood up suddenly from his chair and knocked it over. He was shaking with rage.
“HOW DARE YOU!” Martin yelled. “You call that TALENT?? That ‘talent’ makes my only daughter a FREAK! How do think I feel, Bryan? Happy about that?” Martin was shaking all over. He knew that Brooke might hear him, but he didn’t care. Martin didn’t know what to think of his daughter at this moment. He knew that he loved her, but was unsure of his ability to live with that ‘magic’ in the house.
“There is only one thing to do about this Bryan,” Martin said, calming himself down. His wife came in to the room at this moment, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She ran to her husband and embraced him. Martin, who hadn’t been looking for a hug, felt himself relax in his wife’s arms. He looked at her and she nodded. They both knew what had to happen with their daughter.