Magic, beginnings, and the largely overlooked usefulness of tables
Isadora Abbot had been raised on magic. She spent the earliest years of her life marveling over the way her father could summon sparks to the tips of his fingers and sweep away messes with the flick of a wand. And while her mother possessed no real magic, Isa had always been sure that she had a special magic of her own. This came in the form of stories.
Every night before sleep, she would listen to colorful tales of dragons and princesses and graceful forest fairies. And each time her mother made sure to add a clever, daring heroine who bore a striking resemblance to her own young daughter. Isa devoured these stories with the same fervor she did her fathers scraps of magic, so when she heard about Hogwarts for the first time, she was entranced. High stone walls and wide, expansive grounds, and the entire place brimming with magic. What other place could there be for a girl raised on charms and fairytales?
When she would come to stand on the steps of the great hall for the first time, years later, her mother would be long dead, and the stories faded from her memory, any courage she might have pulled from them long since melted away. Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity. It felt like a homecoming.
- • •
The first time Isa presented a spark of magic, she was seven years old, and it was three days after her mothers funeral. Her father had uprooted them from their small, comfortable house in Surrey, and moved them into a gargantuan mansion, full of old, dusty objects that weren’t to be touched, to live with grandparents she had never met.
So overcome with rage, confusion, and despair, she set her small suitcase on fire right in the foyer of her fathers ancestral home. Instead of being met with excitement, or even horror, she was met with a kind of annoyed resignation. She was a witch, of that they were now certain, but she was also a halfblood witch, and in her fathers family, that kind of thing was simply Not Done. Still, there was nothing to be done about it now.
Her grandmother simply sighed, extinguished the fire with a haughty wave of her wand, and Isa was shuffled off to a cold, dusty room too big for her, to wrestle with a grief far too large for her tiny body.
The second time she exhibited magic, she was nine years old, hiding under a table at a fancy party, and staring into a pair of shining grey eyes.
Since the death of her mother, and her fathers acceptance back into his pureblood family, there has arisen a problem of what exactly to do with Isa. She was a black mark on the family's otherwise shining record, and she had to be dealt with accordingly. They could simply stash her away somewhere and do their best to forget she existed, but then it would look like they were ashamed, and that was unacceptable.
So instead they decided to act as if nothing was wrong. She would be brought up, educated, and otherwise treated as a proper pureblood young lady. Which meant etiquette lessons, and dance lessons, and eventually, parties. Halfbloods had been accepted into pureblood circles before, but not like this. You did not, could not, simply shove one into the inner circle of the sacred 28 and hope for the best.
But they did, and Isa was stuck with the consequences. For her, that meant a low buzz of exclusion wherever she went, and a loneliness so deep and heavy it sunk into her bones and trailed after her like a shroud. While doors opened so easily for her father and grandparents, she had to squeeze through, forcing herself past the whispers of: “this is not for you. you are not meant for it. you are not worthy.” So eventually, she resorted to hiding. In alcoves, behind curtains and in gardens, and, fatefully, under tables. In all her time spent hiding away from the pureblood world, no one had even tried to look for her, let alone find her. Which is why she was so surprised when a rumpled looking boy with brilliant grey eyes slid into her hiding place, turned to her, and fell backwards in surprise.
The muffled sounds of the party continued above, but Isa’s attention was suddenly drawn to the boy who had just stumbled into her hiding place. His grey eyes, wide with surprise, locked onto hers. He recovered quickly, pushing himself up from the floor. "I didn’t expect to find anyone under here!”
Isa blinked, unsure of how to react. She had grown so accustomed to solitude that the sudden intrusion left her momentarily speechless. The boy, who appeared to be around her age, had unruly black hair and an easy grin that seemed at odds with his earlier shock.
“Are you hiding too?” he asked, sitting down cross-legged beside her, clearly unfazed by the dust and the cramped space. His eyes widened. “Is someone looking for you?” He whispered, leaning closer.
“No.” Isa replied, her voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, she added, “No ones looking for me, I mean. But yes, I am hiding. Sort of.”
“Well, in that case,” he said, settling himself comfortably, “I guess I’ll join you. I’m Sirius Black, by the way.”
Isa blinked at him. The Blacks had a reputation in the Sacred 28 families, the kind that made her nervous merely looking at the boy. But he was smiling, and he seemed friendly enough, and she was so desperate for a friend.
“Isadora Abbot,” she said, then hesitated. “But you can call me Isa.”
“Isa.” He said, with a serious nod. He held out a hand for her shake, looking very official for a nine year old who was currently crouched under a table. She took it delicately, and they shook. The boy shuffled closer, turning towards the sounds of the party outside.
“So,” he asked after a moment, “what exactly is it that you do down here anyways?”
“Well, I read mostly.” Isa murmured, holding up a very well used copy of Anne of Green Gables. Sirius nodded, looking somewhat disinterested.
“You should meet my brother. That's practically all he does all day.”
“What do you do all day then?”
He flashed her a sharp grin. “Bother him, mostly.” Isa laughed at that, maybe a little harder then she should’ve. She was out of practice with people, but the boy hardly seemed to notice.
“Or!” He added, eyes lighting up as he dug a hand into his pocket. He offered her a beat up pack of cards. “Exploding snap?”
Isa stared at him. “Exploding?”
Sirius gaped. “You’ve never played?” He said, seemingly affronted by the very idea. Isa shook her head.
“Well I’ll teach you then.”
And that he did. Over the next few hours, and several rounds of exploding snap, through which she became more and more convinced that he was cheating, Isa came to the revelation that Sirius Black must be perfect. He was funny, and clever, and he seemed to know everything about anything that mattered, including some small bits of magic, which delighted her. He talked and moved with an ease that made Isa so jealous she felt a bit sick with it. She never wanted him to leave. And that was before he’d ever even mentioned Hogwarts.
“And how do you get it?” Isa whispered, exploding snap long forgotten. Sirius laughed, as if it was a ridiculous question.
“They just send you a letter if you have magic. Didn’t your father tell you?”
She shook her head. “He never tells me anything. What's it like?” She added quickly, soaking up as much information as she could.
“The letter?”
“Everything.”
Sirius grinned.
That night, after another hour of conversation that Isa felt was not nearly enough, Sirius peered nervously out from under the table.
He turned back to Isa in a panic. “It's already half past 9! Maman will be furious.”
Isa blinked at him. Her own father barely noticed when she disappeared, let alone how long she was gone for. But she supposed this kind of thing must be normal.
“I have to go.” I whispered, slipping out from under the table, but not forgetting to flash her another smile as he went. “It was nice meeting you.”
Isa smiled back. “You too.”
That night, back in her bedroom, Isa could think of absolutely nothing but seeing Sirius again. For the first time in years, she’d made a real friend. Her cheeks hurt from smiling by the time she finally managed to drift off. And when she did, she dreamt of silver eyes, and neatly stamped letters, and magic.