This is a story of a boy. A boy who lived his life filled with secrets.

At a young age, his life took a hit that no child should ever bear, the loss of an entire family. Luckily, before anything else bad could happen, he was accepted into new family. However, this did not let the boy forget about his old family.

To make it worse, his new parents were unlike him. Although they acted normal in their presence, they would have habits that would have no logical explanation. It was as if two people who lived with magic for their entire life suddenly lost all magical power.

His father had a fascination for electronics. His mother seemed to be unfamiliar with the use of cooking utensils. Over the years, these flaws disappeared, however, the boy still remembered. He remembered everything, even the things he wanted to forget.

When the boy turned 11, he realized that his suspicions were not wrong. His parents were indeed extraordinary. It all started with a letter, an invitation, an acceptance letter to a school of magic.

Yes, it was magic, the secret that was kept from him from his parents. The secret that used to create an invisible boundary inside their family.

The boy was happy, he had finally opened the barrier between his parents and himself. However, seeing the joyful expression on his parents, he did not feel pride or happiness.

He felt bitter.

He had thoughts that a child, no, something even an adult shouldn't have. How long had his parents had to hide something they loved all for the sake of him?

"It doesn't matter, you are our son. We will always love you."

He knew it, but it did not help. He thought of what would have been different if he was born as their son, their real blood son. Would they have taught that version of him magic? Would they love him even more? Would they have been happier?

At that moment, the boy felt a sense of jealousy, jealousy towards a boy who didn't exist, a boy who was his parents true son.

Of course the boy his It well, he was mature enough to know that jealousy was a poison, especially when it was focused towards something that he could never be. So he kept it hidden, locked away in a prison, tied up so no one could ever realize exactly what was going on in his head.

For a while, he forgot about that jealousy, and he was happy. But even that happiness was short lived.

While in his first year at the school, his ears caught the voice of a group of kids while he was in the library reading.

At first the boy tried to block The voices of the noisy groups, he was quite interested in the subject he was currently reading, however, he heard an unfamiliar word come out from one of the noisy boy's mouth.


The boy knew that what was just uttered was something derogative and hurtful. However, his curiosity got the better of him, his thirst for knowledge had to be satisfied.

Curiosity killed the cat.

The boy, upon discovering the meaning of the word, once again froze. The feelings he had locked away had once more resurfaced, but this time stronger.

He was a filthy wizard, one that did not deserve the love and care he received from his parents. He started to hate himself, he started to hate his life, however, he could not hate his blood. His previous family always lingered around his head like a drug, something unpleasant yet hard to forget.

It did not help that at that time, Christmas was looming and his parents had written that they did not have enough time to spend Christmas together. It made it so much worse. For a couple days, the boy struggled with insomnia and depression.

However, he calmed down quickly. Once again, like everything he had wanted to forget, he locked it away with chains of false reassurance saying how his parents loved him no matter what he was. And he knew it, he always knew it.

His chains were strong, they could contain anything within, yet a small stimulation from the outside would break all the chains down.

His personality became more irregular, he would be calm at most times, yet he would be explosive at others. He would feel like hiding away, yet he also had a desire for fame, a desire to prove to himself that he was worthy of the love he had received.

Then he saw the mirror.

All of the protection and walls he had built fame crashing down. The one memory he hated and despised the most came back like a fifty meter tall wave. The thing he desired and feared came to his eyes once more.

He felt hesitant, all of the strength and intelligence seemed useless before the never ending nightmare.

He couldn't fight his way out, nor could he think towards his escape. He was devoured by pain and sorrow.

He was trapped. He was scared. He was bitter. He was desperate.

Then came a chance.

One of his friends had left him in anger, his friend had thought that he was doing the right thing. The boy thought differently. He said it was too risky, too dangerous.

But they wouldn't listen.

He watched as his friends left, and a chain cracked open. He thought to himself, what if... what if this was his moment to show his true brilliance, to prove his worth, to become the pride of his family.

He felt ashamed, he wasn't rushing towards his friends to help them, but for his own selfish reason.

It was ok to be selfish, the boy muttered to himself.

He was still a child, no amount of brain could stop it.

So he chased after his friend, and saw that his suspicions were correct. He confronted the dark lord and explained his thought process, everything, his brilliance, his intelligence.

The boy was overwhelmed with pride that he made mistakes that shouldn't have been made.

He was caught off guard by the dark lord and got possessed. Once more the memories resurfaced. He felt the old pain come back, and the boy fought against it, and won. Barely, yes, but he won.

He felt regret, but there was a part of him that was satisfied. The part of him that he himself had hated. The part that screamed for fame and acceptance.

The part of him that despised the term, mudblood.