(Josie Sayz: I wrote
this on 26th January 2017, but for some reason never posted it. I’m
by no means a Harry Potter fan or fanatic and I hate being referred to as
the Harry Potter girl – which is probably why I didn’t post this piece. I read
the books once, when I was at university and I have watched the films once. I
love the idea of the universe, but was never that keen on the style of writing
or the character of Harry. This piece was written when I was in a happy, loving
relationship and made me chuckle when I came across it when I was archiving
over the weekend. With the new Hogwarts game out (I have no idea what it’s
called, but saw some pictures on Twitter) I figured now was a good time to post
it. Oh and I’m a Ravenclaw and love to collect Ravenclaw things – like I said,
I love the universe, the stories, movies and author, not so much.)
My boyfriend’s a muggle. Not just any old muggle – he’s as muggle as they get.
Not only had he never heard of magic, when I met him, but even just the thought
of spells was enough to give him the heebie-jeebies – sometimes it still does.
So, “How did this happen?” I hear you wonder. How can a witch befriend and fall
in love with a muggle? I’m a half-blood. Magic mother, muggle father. Yes, as
you can imagine, not long after the discovery that his daughter was a freak too, he and my mother separated.
My brother’s also a wizard, but we don’t talk about him (if he wasn’t so gosh,
darn lazy, he would probably be the next You-Know-Who, so I count my lucky
starts that he’s an idle slob). Having settled near Kuttle Town, when she married
my father, after the divorce, my mother decided to stay in the area. She even
took up a muggle job – a librarian, at Wiverton Green village library.
Growing up, my mum made sure that my brother and I had the best of both worlds.
We both attended Hogwarts for schooling and helped out in the library during
school holidays. Once old enough, I got a summer job at the local muggle
supermarket, and that’s how we met. Conscious of standing out in the muggle
world, I kept my head down. Sure, I interacted with my colleagues, like
everyone else, but I never felt like I belonged there. One day, a tall, dark
handsome stranger came my way – okay, so I romanticise it a little. I can’t
help it. I grew up in a muggle library! Kevin was a colleague, and tall,
handsome, with dark curly hair and a cute pair of spectacles that suit him to a
tee. He made me laugh and was always so kind. When everyone else saw me as part
of the furniture, Kevin saw me for me. Not the goody-goody Ravenclaw that
people from school knew me as, not the weird anti-social one that the rest of
the staff has labelled me as, but me, the girl who loved stories and always
came up with a creative way to help me get through the day.
“Ignore the gremlins out
there,” Kevin had told me, as we worked in the warehouse. He was referring to
our colleagues, on the shop floor. “When it gets too much, I like to come back
here and get things organised. It’s like a cave of wonders,” he said, gesturing
at the cages of groceries that surrounded us, from the recent delivery. I
laughed at him. Finally, someone outside of the wizarding world, who liked to
see things the way I did – full of fantasy and creativity. And that’s how it
started.
It took me a while to feel as comfortable around him as he did around me,
before I revealed my secret, and he took it rather well. Very well, in fact. It
brought us closer. I didn’t have to hide a part of me anymore. Kevin knows I’m
a witch. He loves me for me, magic and all. He’s heard tales of Hogwarts, the
lessons, the charms, the spells. He doesn’t pester me to do magic, show him
spells or ask me to use my powers to make his life easier, like cleaning the
house. He knows that magic is a huge part of me, and he accepts me for me and
that is all that it is. Okay, so maybe we have a little sprinkle of magic here
and there, just to make things fun – like Kevin’s little toast train that bring
him toast and a little pot of honey, for breakfast in bed, on the weekends. I
never tire of seeing his face light up and a smile stretch across his face, as
a mini steam train pulls up along side him, as he shakes the sleep from his
eyes.
I may be a witch and my boyfriend, a muggle, but our lives are not that
different from any other relationship. I go to work, just like he does. We come
home, talk about our day over dinner – cooked the muggle way, always the muggle way. He never pesters
me or asks about magic. Okay, on the occasion of course he is curious, but to
him, that’s just a part of me. It’s just who I am. I don’t bug him to death
with details on the lawsuits and wills and cases that his workplace receive. I
don’t beg to know about law, finance and the criminal justice system of the muggle
world. It’s his job, just as mine is mine: Secretary of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I
guess you could argue that we are in a similar field of work, although it is
not similar at all. Oh how I love our life. So similar, yet so different and
yet being with Kevin makes me feel the happiest and safest I have ever felt in
my entire life.
“If it makes you happy, then embrace it,” is what he often tells me, when I
worry about my double life. My heart warms with a thousand butterflies. How
lucky am I? I remind myself this everyday and tell him how grateful I am to
have met him, and for the life that we share. I never take my powers for
granted, nor do I take the muggle side of me for granted. I am lucky. I love my
job and I love my life and I love my boyfriend, the best muggle a gal could ask
for.
- Josie -
