The Owl in Raven's Clothing

Souvenirs

The station was bustling with passengers boarding and disembarking the trains, and Vincere stared in astonishment as a family took turns rushing into the wall that was in between nine and ten. Before he could muster the courage to take the dive, he heard some commotion from behind him. When turning toward the sound he came face to face with his parents, his younger sister stood between them while clutching his mother's hand.

"I still think he shouldn't go, what if...what if he becomes like them?" His father's shoulders were now hunched over and his brows began to furrow.

"Francis..." exclaimed his mother, "Why would you even think such a thing of our son? Vincere is a kind boy, he would never do something as dreadful as that!"

"Yes, I know Dear... I know; but you've seen how much he changed, how can we be so sure our little boy still holds the same love in his heart? He hasn't been the same joyful lad since the incident, not after what it did to his sister."

Merely mentioning it caused Vincere to clear his throat, noticing his sister was now fidgeting with her dress. "Father, I understand your concerns... truly; but you needn't worry about me."

He felt a firm hand grip his shoulder and looked up to his father towering over him, his mood shifted instantly upon seeing his troubled expression.

"As your father I will always worry about you, Vinny. Now promise me you won't get into any trouble, alright? More importantly, show them that there is nothing wrong with being a muggle-born."

Professor Fig had explained to Vincere's parents what the terms "muggle" and "squib" meant when he had come to speak with them, and his father had been a bit put off by the term.

He had no time to think more of it though as he was then swept into a tight hug by his father. Upon releasing him he drew from his pocket a rather old pocket watch, it looked as though it had not seen repair in years. Francis gave the watch one last fond glance before handing it over to his son, who could only gape in astonishment. Vincere had always loved the thing, even if it was in desperate need of repairs. He was quite sure he could figure out how to fix it given the chance.

"Grandpa's watch... but he gave it to you-" His voice was flat, in an attempt to hide what the gesture truly meant to him.

"And now I'm giving it to you," he said firmly, "your grandfather would have wanted you to have it. It's not like I could ever fix the damned thing; but maybe you can. Perhaps with a bit of magic?" His father winked at him, and the warmth in his voice was enough to finally draw a smile from him.

He shuffled over towards his mother, who took no time to wet her thumb so she could wipe a crumb off his cheek. He pushed her hand away gently, throwing himself into her arms while scrunching his face, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. His mother on the other hand became a complete mess, her weeping like a hand squeezing at his heart.

Last but certainly not least he bid farewell to his sweet sister, Lillian. He knelt down before her so their eyes were level. He didn't expect much from her, as she had been mute for quite a long time. Vincere placed his hand onto her head, giving it a gentle shake. Normally when he did so she found it amusing; but this time she was having none of it. She pushed his hand away and retreated behind their mother, staring at him from around her skirt.

It was nearly time for him to board the train, and needed to hurry else he might miss his chance. He stood and mentally prepared himself. Fig had said that all he needed to do was run straight into the wall between platforms nine and ten. He gathered his belongings and was prepared to charge when he felt something take hold of his coat. He turned expecting his father; but instead found Lillian's small hand. There were tears streaming down her face and her grip on him tightened as they came on more quickly.