A carriage rolls quietly down an unpaved pathway, appearing no different than any other that had come before it. A man sitting upon its front, guiding horses down the path he was told to take them. Shutters blocking the evening sun from intruding upon those who rested inside of it. Within sat three people, a boy and his parents from the looks of it. The two adults seemed to be arguing with each other while the boy stared at the window, seeming to be used to these types of fights, doing his best to ignore what was going on around him. Doing his best to pretend that he was anywhere but there.
It was not until he heard his name mentioned that he began to listen once again, turning his head towards them as he paid attention. “--is too young for this.” His mother’s voice was soft, even when frustrated, her blue eyes locked onto the brown skinned man sitting in front of her. His hand raised to stop her from continuing before he spoke assertively to counter. “I was old enough at his age and so was my father. If his blood carries my magic, he will be fine.” It seemed as if the woman wanted to respond to him but a stern look from the man’s face was enough to stop her. His sole uncovered eye staring as if it intended to drill a hole through her.
The rest of the ride was silent, the sun beginning to set as they reached the outskirts of a rather large forest. The driver quickly hopped down and moved to open the door for those within. As the man began to get up and step out, the woman grasped at his sleeve, looking up at him with a pleading look. “Are you sure it should be here? The ministry–” She was cut off once again by that forceful tone. “The ministry doesn’t know everything, if they did, we wouldn’t live as comfortably as we do”. Her hand released him as she tended to her son, helping him out of the carriage and giving him a gentle hug, whispering into his ear as she did. “Don’t worry honey, we’ll be back home soon and then we can make a wand together like I promised.”
Her kindness did get a smile out of the boy, though once he noticed his father’s gaze upon him once again, his body stood up straight and he spoke formally “Yes ma’am”. The man didn’t speak to his child at first, motioning a hand towards the forest in front of them, the light of the sun having faded. The moon granted some light as it began its slow climb overhead. “Go on. Come back when the sun rises with your magic, or not at all”. His words stung but with a puffed chest of false bravado and a nod the boy headed into the forest. Taking a few moments before he was out of sight of the two of them, occasionally dropping a gobstone from his pocket once he was so he could find his way back.
The night was quiet for most of his time there. Finding a massive twisted gnarl of trees and stone that he could use as shelter for the night. His stomach started to growl once he sat himself down upon one of the larger rocks. Eyes quickly darted around to see if he could find anything that looked edible, inexperience in foraging made him gather whatever plants seemed like he could eat them, grasping at mushrooms and berries alike to take back to the den he had found himself in.
With a small pile of dead grass, fallen and decayed wood that he could muster the strength to carry, and a circle of small rocks. He tried to start a fire to keep himself warm, the gentlemen’s clothing he wore not helping much against the chill of the wind. Everything he could attempt was tried, flinging his hands towards the pile, attempting to shout incendio, even resorting to staring at the pile and thinking rather firmly that it would ignite if he stared at it long enough. Yet nothing seemed to work, and so he resigned himself to curling up in his jacket as best as he could, leaning against the trunk of a larger tree for support as he waited for the night to end.
For another, the night had just begun. A gray-furred beast let out a ghastly howl as it followed the scent and sounds that the boy had left. Climbing along the trees and stones, needing no pack and seeking only one thing. Stalking through the night with a quiet pace, its presence is only revealed by the snap of a twig that made the boy look up. The beast’s reflective eyes staring down at the boy. A scream escaped from him as he scrambled to get up and run, Doing the best he could to follow the gobstones. Too afraid to slow down and keep track of his footing as the wolf chased him.
His heart pounded against his chest, breath beginning to labor, and feet beginning to grow sore as he ran like he never had before. Trying to fight through the pain as he saw what he thought was the carriage he had arrived in, relief started to come over him just before it happened. He didn’t know it was coming, turning to see how close the monster was just as it leapt to bring him to the ground. Its teeth sunk within his shoulder and claws scratched at whatever they could reach. One last weakened scream came from him, a cry of fear, a cry for his mother to come help him.
His arms raised to attempt to defend himself, the canines teeth sinking into his forearm and shaking around as if it intended to break his bones. The boy’s body began to give out, barely able to keep conscious as blood pooled beneath him. As he began to slip into unconsciousness, he heard his father’s voice once again, stoic and cold “Crucio”. The hound yelped and flung off of him, writhing in pain as the boy looked towards it, hearing only the beginning of the next invocation “Avada–”.
He had never heard such a spell before, nor would he have time to think about what it meant. Waking up once again as he felt the embrace of his mother kneeling next to him, using some lesser forms of magic and what potions she brought with her to try and stave off the worst of the wounds, in a panic she shouted up at her husband. “Eamon, we need to get him to a hospital!” The man was quiet, contemplative before he responded, stepping over his son and staring down at him “We will, but first...” The boy saw the deep red wood of his father’s wand, unsure of what was about to happen as the word “Obliviate” was spoken, a dull light being the last thing he saw.
He didn’t awaken for days, startled and panicked as he looked around the hospital room he resided in. Unsure of anything that happened the night of the incident, his memories of it were wiped away. His mother, having never left his side, said he was attacked while out playing on the grounds of their home, some muggle’s hound having gotten off of his leash. Another lie to comfort him, something she had done for him countless times before, and so long as she could protect him, something she would do for him again. She knew the truth and how her husband would act when their child had recovered, but protecting him right there in that moment was all that mattered…