Others

Making A Comeback

makingacomeback

‘To achieve a success after a retirement or failure.’ – a reliable dictionary I found online.

I am making a comeback. The Slave Prince is making a comeback.

My last publishing success on Inkshares was in January 2015. My last publishing failure on Inkshares was in January 2016. (What a coincidence!) But what is failure, really? Giving up. So that’s why I’m back.

When The Slave Prince didn’t make it to the top 3 in the Sword & Laser Collection Contest, I was disappointed. But I knew, from the get-go, that I wasn’t going to give up on this book. And when the opportunity arose, I would put it out there again.

The opportunity has arrived… in the form of the Geek & Sundry fantasy contest.

The Geek & Sundry contest opens now till November 1st. The top 3 books with the most unique reader pre-orders (a.k.a most reader headcount) will receive a full publishing deal with Inkshares!

Obviously, The Slave Prince is at risk of failing again. But I’m not going to fail, because whatever obstacle stands before me, I will dig under, I will climb over, and if I have to, I will break my way through. (Sounds like I’m giving myself a pep talk, eh?)

I don’t think I’ve said this before, but The Slave Prince is an important book to me… far more important than The Battle for Oz. If I could turn back time, I would’ve funded The Slave Prince first. But alas, I’m no time traveller.

The Slave Prince wasn’t just written for fun, but for me. The Slave Prince, Thom himself, reminds me I can do anything if I believe. The adventure reminds me that perseverance can make the impossible possible. And the premise… the premise reminds me of the power of child-like make-believe. (Why am I tearing up? This is weird.)

Every time I revisit The Slave Prince in my editing rounds, I am reminded to believe in myself and keep contending for the impossible. If it were another book, I’m not too sure if I’d feel the same way. So here I am, hoping you, my dear reader, will stand with me and this book.

I know my book isn’t the best book out there, but I hope the story speaks to you. I also hope… you’ll give me a chance to make this comeback real. You have the power to make a difference in my life, and I’m really counting on you to walk this road with me. Without you, it’ll be a lonely journey. That said, thank you so very much for reading all the way to the end! And please grab a copy on your way out. I would be eternally grateful.

theslaveprincecover2

About the Book

The Slave Prince follows the tale of Thom, a mischievous teenage prince who discovers his lineage in the slave race. When the calling to be the chosen one arises, he relies on the power of a magical dagger to save his people.

Book page: https://www.inkshares.com/books/the-slave-prince

First few chapters can be read on the book page. Additional bonus backstory HERE.

*Ps, I’m so close to making the top 3, a little push from you will take me there. A little push might move me up to #1 too! 

Book Teasers

The Majestas Regia

themajestasregia

Seven year-old Thom shuffled up the steps of the tallest turret in the prince’s palace. His goal was the highest window. It overlooked the army training camps in their New Year celebration.

Once at his comfortable spot, he peered down at the bright lights and loud cheers. Everything below looked like a play set, except he couldn’t reach down to join the fun. Thom was still too young to attend the celebration with his family. And he hated it. Missing out on all the songs and games, despite how rowdy they could get, was like missing out on the best birthday party in the kingdom. Yet no matter how much he begged, his mother always said no.

Resting his chin on his crossed arms, Thom imagined growing up. Oh how he couldn’t wait. It seemed wonderful to be an adult. He could even make the climb up the turret without huffing like an angry bull. Sighing, he made a wish for the years to fly by. If only he had magic to speed up time.

“Your highness! I – I found you. You shouldn’t be up here,” his royal maidservant said. She stopped a few steps below in attempts to catch her breath. It looked like some adults never outgrew the panting. “It’s time for bed, Prince Thom. The queen will be back to check on you soon.”

Thom frowned. He mentally noted to pick another turret next year, since the maidservants knew of his special spot.

“Your highness, come down with me, please,” the maidservant pleaded.

“I’m tired,” Thom lied. “Carry me.”

He had grown in the past two years, and despite hating being carried, it was a torture to those who spoilt his fun.

“Ca-carry you?” The maidservant looked aghast at the idea.

“Yes, carry me,” Thom ordered.

He skipped down the few steps and jumped into the maidservant’s arms. Stumbling backward, the maidservant quickly leaned against the wall, saving them both from a bone-breaking fall.

“You’re getting heavier, your highness.”

“I know.”

Thom held on tight as the maidservant huffed and puffed her way down the steps, all the while smirking at what he deemed was justice. When she finally dragged them both into his bedchamber, he climbed off and waved her away.

“Shall – shall I tuck – tuck you in, your – highness?”

“No. You can go.”

The maidservant gave a bow before shuffling out of the room. When she shut the doors, he heard her inform the guards to keep watch. Grunting, he knew his plan to escape was foiled.

Not yet tired as the night was still young, he climbed onto the windowsill and looked out into the night sky. The stars twinkled across the black canvas, while the clouds drifted by the pastel full moon. The music and laughter of the celebration could be heard, but only as a distance whisper carried by the wind. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and it was quite a disappointment to the imaginative little prince.

“Not even a single dragon,” Thom muttered, as he heaved a sigh.

“And a good thing, that is,” someone replied.

Turning, he saw his mother walking toward him. He didn’t hear her enter, being occupied in his search for something magical.

“A horrible thing, that is,” Thom corrected.

“Why?” his mother asked. She pulled an armchair near the windowsill and gestured for him to come down.

“It means there’s no magic tonight,” Thom replied. Obediently, he climbed off the hazardous ledge and planted himself on his mother’s lap.

“Magic comes from within, not from outside.”

“Then magic is boring.”

His mother laughed as she wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a tight squeeze before poking at his rib.

“Hey!” Thom pushed her hand away, holding back a childish giggle.

“You know, if you want to find magic, all you have to do is look at the stars.”

“The stars?”

“Look right there,” she added, pointing toward a direction in the sky.

Thom leaned closer to her arm, and aligned his sight with her finger. But all he saw were a cluster of twinkling dots and no magic.

“What’s there?”

“You can’t see it?”

“See what?”

“The Majestas Regia. It’s a constellation only royals can see.”

“I can’t see it. Does that mean I’m not a royal?”

“Look carefully.”

“I am. What does it look like?”

“It looks like a crown.” His mother began to draw in the air. When she was done, she asked, “Do you see it now?”

“No.” How she could point it out bewildered him. Knowing it would take too much effort, he stopped trying and turned the other way.

However special the constellation was, it seemed like a waste of time trying to find it. It wasn’t magic. It was just a bunch of stars. And the fact that it could only be seen by royals? Well, he didn’t like that thought either.

“You can’t give up so quickly, dear Thom.”

“There’s a dragon over there, can you see it?” Thom pointed in the opposite direction, hoping to change the subject. There wasn’t a dragon, of course, but he could easily imagine one.

His mother laughed and pulled his hand down. “Just because you cannot see it, doesn’t mean you’re not a prince.” It was as though she’d read his mind. But it was to no surprise, as mothers had that special magic within them.

“Who says I’m not a prince?” Thom snapped. “It’s just a bunch of stupid stars.”

“You see, that’s why magic isn’t on the outside. It’s on the inside.” She gently tapped at his chest. “To see it, you must believe it. You’re a prince, little one. A true prince. And one day, you’ll find the Majestas Regia as quickly as you gaze into the night sky.”

“I will?”

“You will.”

“What are you doing?” Seanna asked.

She skipped down the steps of the ember-glowing farmhouse. Seated on a log in the open field, Thom instinctively shifted to make space for her.

“Looking for something,” Thom replied.

“What are you looking for?” Seanna asked, plopping down beside him. She dropped her gaze at the ground and began brushing the wet grass with her boot.

“Not down there, up here.” Thom pointed to the stars. “The Majestas Regia.”

“Oh, the royal constellation.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?”

“I don’t think so. Did you find it? They say only royals can see it. I’ve tried looking for it before, but…”

“You didn’t find it?”

“No.”

“I guess the saying is true then. Or, it’s just prove that there are things Seanna cannot do,” Thom said with a smug.

“Well, can you?”

Thom pointed to the sky, where his index finger hovered by the tip of the crown. “Over there.”

“You’re lying,” Seanna scoffed.

“It’s really over there,” Thom insisted, connecting the stars with his fingers to draw a crown on the invisible canvas.

“Whatever. It’s almost dinnertime.” Seanna got to her feet and dusted her pants. “By the way, Reid and Tavia are joining us for tonight’s Passover celebration.”

“Oh, okay. You go ahead then.”

“We won’t wait for you to start.”

“I’ll be right in.”

“There’s turkey pie.”

Thom chuckled, before looking at the sky once more. And just like his mother had said, he spotted it as quickly as he lifted his gaze. It was there, to the right of the moon, the Majestas Regia.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Merry Christmas (eve) dear reader! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas day, full of love, hope, and good food.

I also hope you liked this short story 🙂 It is actually a teaser for my crowd-funding novel, The Slave Prince. I know it raises some questions, but that’s the whole idea!

If you’re new to my blog, The Slave Prince is actually in the running to being published as part of the Sword & Laser Collection Contest. If it piques your interest, do give it a look-see. I have until the 15th of January to be in the top 3 books. Then, it’s a guarantee you’ll see it on bookshelves next year! So head over to the project page to read further. The prologue and first 2 chapters are there too, for some light reading this Christmas day 🙂

(*UPDATE: The Slave Prince has been entered into the Geek & Sundry Fantasy contest. The contest runs till November 1st, 2016 and the same rules apply!)

The Slave Prince © 2015 – 2016 Jeyna Grace

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Unbreakable Vow

Unbreakable

Ro was a special girl, with black hair and dark eyes that stood out from her pale complexion. Not only was she clever, but she was gifted. Though her parents thought of her as extraordinary, society thought otherwise. Ro was living in a time where being special meant death, hence, her parents constantly reminded her to never use her gift in public.

Because of Ro’s condition, she and her parents moved around a lot. Her parents were looking for a place where they would be accepted and that Ro could grow up without living in fear. But finding such a peace haven was becoming more impossible as the years went by.

Ro once thought that there were many others like her, and that when they found those people, she wouldn’t have to lie her way in life. But when she saw her parents losing hope, Ro was losing hers too. Maybe she was alone and there was no one like her, or worse, the king had killed all those who were like her already.

Sometimes, Ro would feel a tear rolling down her cheek, and when she realized her sadness had made her cheeks wet, she would pull her hood over and keep her head down. Loneliness was something she hated and yet it was starting to be the only thing she understood.

Ro thought her future was as straight forward as surviving day to day, but it was on one fine night that things changed. When her parents decided to stay a night at a town they were passing through, Ro discovered she was not so alone anymore.

Ro was having a hard time falling asleep that night, and she decided to sneak out when her parents had fallen asleep. She had learned how to sneak around that even old floorboards could not betray her. Once she was in the clear of any humans, Ro walked towards an empty field behind the inn. She heard the town’s people talking about an upcoming tourney, and Ro secretly hoped they could stay long enough to see it. Though she was certain they wouldn’t.

Closing her eyes briefly, Ro imagined the field being set up with tents and benches. She saw knights, horses, swords and a loud and excited crowd. When she opened her eyes, the field lay quietly under the dark sky. Ro felt the same sadness within her and she knew a tear would soon be coming. Thankfully, someone stopped her.

“Lovely isn’t it?” a girl asked.

Turning around, Ro saw a girl around her age with red hair and blue eyes, and with skin almost as pale as hers.

“It would be, when the tourney starts,” Ro said, forcing a smile.

“Well, that depends. But I prefer it quiet,” the girl replied.

Of course she did, she was never alone. Silence was bliss for a girl like her, Ro thought.

“I haven’t seen you around, are you new here?” the girl asked.

“I’m just passing through with my parents. Do you live in this town?” Ro asked in return.

“Yes. But I want to leave. I hate it here,” the girl said, as she took a seat on a log.

“Why? Isn’t it nice here?”

“No. No one understands me. The only one who did left me,” the girl answered sourly.

Ro thought for a while before she spoke. The girl felt alone too, and it must be horrible to feel alone even when there were so many people around. At least Ro never had to deal with loneliness that way.

“Who left?”

“My father. He died,” the girl replied softly.

Ro sat beside her, and watched her closely. Was she going to cry?

“How about your mother?” Ro tried to sound comforting.

“She thinks I’m a freak.”

“Why would any mother think that of her child?”

“Because I can do things. Things normal people can’t.”

Immediately, Ro felt a surge of happiness, which she felt bad for feeling at the same time.

“What kind of things?” Ro asked, trying to hide her excitement.

“Strange things. Things my mother said the King would burn me for.” The girl turned to look at Ro and asked, “Can you do strange things too?”

There was the same glinting hope in the girl’s eyes that Ro could sense, but Ro just stared at the girl, unsure if she should admit it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I can do strange things too remember?” the girl said with a sweet smile.

Ro nodded and smiled. But her smiled soon died as she said, “I will be gone in the morning. My parents will not let me stay, and they won’t let you come along either.”

“I know. But we can always find each other, because we are special,” the girl said confidently.

“How?”

“A vow.” The girl took Ro’s hand and continued, “I promise to find you when I’m old enough to leave. I promise that we will find others like us. And I promise we will be together till the very end. Do you promise the same?”

“I promise to go with you when you find me. I promise that we will find and help others like us. And I promise we will be together till the very end,” Ro said her own vows, her hand still tightly gripping the girl’s.

“Good,” the girl said as she pulled her hand away, and gave Ro a hug.

Once they sat back, Ro curiously asked, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Helga. What is yours?”

“I’m Rowena. But you can call me Ro.”

They sat there long enough to share their dreams, desires, and even their gifts, that when morning came, Ro felt like crying again, not because of loneliness but because she might have to wait a long time before she could see her new sister again.

Almost 10 years later, the wait was over when Ro received a letter from Helga. Not thinking twice, Rowena packed her bags and left the small school she was learning magic from. She was not going to break her vow, as vows were never meant to be broken. Maybe when she has obtained a wand, Ro could come up with a spell for vows, so words were not just spoken but binding to the souls.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Home Schooled

As he sat staring out of his room window, he wondered what life would have been like, if he was accepted to a magical school. But the more he thought about it, the more he hated his life. He couldn’t understand why nobody wanted him, why nobody would accept him for who he was, and deep within him, sparks of anger was growing.

But as of now, he had to push away that thought, because in a few minutes, he would have to sit with his relatives who would ask about him, and why he wasn’t in school. He would have to pretend he didn’t like public school, and that he preferred to be home schooled, to save his parents the embarrassment. And though he thought his parents were being selfish, he knew that that excuse would save him the embarrassment as well.

Finally, the knock came from the door, and he knew it was time. The moment his aunts, uncles and cousins were all settled down in their cosy living room, with the fireplace mildly burning with scented wood, he knew that  though the environment was perfect for good stories and laughs, it will soon turn to him.

“So, still being home schooled I assume?” his eldest aunt asked.

“Yes,” he replied, forcing a smile as he nodded

“Oh, it’s better for him. He can focus more,” his mother quickly added.

“Ah, yes, boys at his age are easily influenced. You’re fifteen now aren’t you?” His eldest aunt turned to him.

“Yes,” he replied, with the same plastic smile.

“Well then, you should show us what you could do,” one of his cousin suggested.

“Oh, we know what he can do, there’s no need to show,” his father answered before he could.

“No, he must show. A boy like you, with such talented parents, would definitely have great talent hidden under your sleeves. And since you’re home schooled, we expect greater things from you!” his eldest aunt said.

“I… I’m not sure,” he said, as he watched his parents exchange quick glances.

“Oh, look at the time, it’s late!” his mother quickly said, as his father waved his wand from his back at the nearby clock.

“Yes, you must get going,” his father added, standing up ready to usher them to the door.

“Oh? I think your clock is off uncle, we just got here,” his cousin said with a laugh.

“Oh, stop trying to be funny Artie,” his eldest aunt said to his father, and waved for him to sit back down.

Immediately, his mother gave him a nudge, and acting upon her actions he got up, ready to excuse himself, with a reason that he needed to get some homework done.

“Where are you going?” his cousin immediately asked.

“I have some homework to do,” he replied, trying to make himself believable.

“Oh, you’re home schooled boy, you can do it anytime,” his eldest aunt said.

And when his mother tugged at his sleeve, he sat back down. Confused at what his parents actually wanted, he sat through the excuses they came up with to put him in the clear and when they finally succeeded, they went on to talking about the ministry, quidditch, and everything magic related.

Through 2 hours of rambling, laughing and complaining, he somehow felt out of place. They seemed so happy, and in him, more seeds of anger began to plant itself. He didn’t know why, but he hated them for being so happy, their laughs became too loud to bear, and they complaints felt so petty that he felt as though they were being so ungrateful with the life they had.

Then, when they started talking about how they wished they could actually live a muggle life for one day, he could not believe what he was hearing. Were they kidding? Do they know what they would be missing out if they were muggles?

“Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to drive a muggle car, ON the road? And those special things they call telephone, it looks so fun to use!” his cousin said excitedly.

“It would be nice to experience it. No ministry talk, just tea with a game of tennis,” his eldest aunt added.

“What’s tennis? It sure does sound interesting” his mother asked.

At that very moment, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew what tennis was, because he learnt about it in school, muggle school. And when he told his parents about it, they couldn’t care less. Now, they were on the bandwagon about living a muggle life?

“Oh, it’s a game-“

“It’s a muggle game. A muggle game you probably would not play, mother,” he interrupted his eldest aunt, and sent the room quiet.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. You all seem to want to live the muggle life, so go ahead! Go to muggle schools, learn about muggle art, and BE A MUGGLE! Then when you’re bored, you can go back to being magical, cause you can!” he continued, and everyone in the room merely stared at him, speechless.

“Argus, please,” his mother whispered.

“Don’t PLEASE me mother, you want to live a lie, go ahead, but I’m done living a lie.” Argus paused and turned to his eldest aunt. “Do you know why I don’t perform magic? It’s because I’m a squib! I CAN’T do magic. I DON’T have it! I’m a muggle, living in a magical world, and it is horrible. So stop being so ungrateful with what you have!’

Immediately after his outburst, Argus ran to his room, slammed his door as loud as he could and buried his face in his pillow, muffling his shouts of anger. But even when he was done, his anger never left, because he just couldn’t understand why those who were given special giftings would take it for-granted.

If only they knew how it was like being the only one not special. If only they could stand where he stood. If only they could see the difference, then he wouldn’t be so angry at all of them.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

The Hero Boy

Ms. Marisa was Roy’s favorite nanny. She only took care of him during the summer as during the rest of the  year, she was away at her school, studying magic.

Roy, being only 9, was already a big fan of magic, and even though he was not allowed a wand of his own, he always used his father’s old wand whenever Ms. Marisa was around.

The only reason why Roy never gave Ms. Marisa a hard time was not because she fed him candy or let him zoom around on his broom inside the house, it was because she loved teaching him magic.

Everything Ms. Marisa learned in school, she would teach him, and today, as Roy pointed his father’s old wand at his pet rabbit, a silver like string came floating out from its head.

“Did it work?” Roy asked as he watched his rabbit hop back to the water bowl and drank from it, which it had already done 30 seconds ago.

“Try it again,” Ms. Marissa said.

“Obliviate!” Roy said, as he gave his wand a slight twist at the rabbit. Once again, the poor rabbit drank from its bowl of water, completely oblivious to the fact that it had already done so early.

“Ob-“

“Wait! We don’t want your rabbit to get all bloated with water!” Ms. Marisa pulled the wand from Roy just in time.

“But, it didnt work!” Roy knew full well that it did. He just wanted to do the spell again.

“It did. And I’m going to teach you another, don’t you wanna learn another?” Ms. Marisa asked, seeing his frown.

A smile immediately crossed his face as he nodded his head vigorously.

“Well, this is a simple summoning spell. All you have to do is concentrate on something, for example that book on the table, and say accio book.” With a small tilt of the wand, the book came flying towards Ms. Marisa, and Roy couldn’t help but gasps in excitement.

“My turn, my turn!” Roy grabbed for his wand and tried. He tried and tried till he had managed to get the book to hover a few centimeters above the table.

“Clever boy!” Ms. Marisa patted him on the back.

Just when Roy was about to attempt at making the book go higher, a crashing sound, which came from downstairs, made both their heads turn to his bedroom door.

“Is your parents home? I don’t remember hearing the fireplace pop,” Ms. Marisa asked, in a tone unlike her usual.

Roy shrugged. He had not heard the fireplace pop either, and it was strange, because his parents always used the floo network from work to home.

“I’m going down to check.”

“No! Don’t leave me! What if it’s a bad wizard?!”

Ms. Marisa, who apparently did not hear him, exited his room and shut the door behind her.

Roy hurried to the door and pressed his right ear against it, trying to hear what was going on, but he heard nothing. Curious, he sneaked out of his room and tip toed down the staircase. It was then that he heard a loud crash followed by a thud that shook the ground beneath him.

“Ms. Marisa?!” Roy shouted.

“It’s o.k Roy. I knocked him out,” Ms. Marisa said proudly, under her shaking voice, as she came out from the kitchen.

“What happened? What did you do?” Roy quickly asked as he peeked into the kitchen doorway, spotting a huge man, sprawled unconscious on the ground.

“I knocked him out with some of your mother’s pots and pans.” Ms. Marisa laughed nervously at the thought.

“With accio spell?” Roy asked keenly.

“Yes. Now go be a dear and flame for the ministry.” Ms. Marisa pointed at the fireplace.

“Wait, what did that man want?”

“He wanted… erm.” Ms. Marisa paused and hesitated before she continued, “You.”

“Why?”

“Wanted gold from your parents Roy. Now you better flame for the ministry while I watch him.”

Roy nodded and headed to the fireplace. He threw some purple powder into the flames and as it turned yellow, Roy peered over and shouted, “Someone tried to kidnap me! You have to come now!”

A female face appeared in the flames and replied, “We’re right on our way Master Lockhart.”

Just then, a crazy idea flashed across his not so innocent mind. Roy reached for the wand he had tucked into his shirt earlier and pointed it at Ms. Marisa.

“What are you doing?” Ms. Marisa asked as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry Ms. Marisa, but I have to do this,” Roy said, as he contemplated his plan.

“Do what?” Ms. Marisa chuckled, thinking Roy was just being playful.

“You’ll help everybody love me more,” Roy tried to explain.

“What are you talking about?” The expression on Ms. Marisa’s face had not change as she shook her head and laughed.

“Obliviate!” Roy shouted, and to his surprise, a silver string slowly floated out of her head. He expected the spell not to work, but it did.

As he happily watched a blank expression wipe across Ms. Marisa’s face, Roy cooked up a whole new story in which everyone, to his deepest satisfaction, believed to be the truth.

Roy was lonely and he wanted people to like him, to love him and to know him. His parents didnt have time for him and now that he was about to make the headlines as a hero who saved his nanny from an intruder, his parents would have to give him all their attention.

Roy was the hero boy, the boy whom every child wanted to be friends with and the boy whom every parent would want as a child. He was going to have it all.

True enough, he made the headlines on the Daily Prophet the next day, “Gilderoy Lockhart, the Hero Boy.” All that at what cost? A nanny who started loving him even more.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Dear Professor

“Where’s her letter?”  Alyssa Figg asked in a hush hush manner.

“We didn’t receive any,” Adrian, her husband, answered worriedly.

“What do you mean? It should have arrived by now!”

“I’ve checked the mail a hundred times, we didn’t receive any.” Adrian took a quick glance at the stack of mail on his work table.

“I don’t believe this. Sure, she might be slower than the other kids, but she’s one of us, she has our blood!” Alyssa began pacing up and down the small home office as she squeezed her palms together.

Arabella, who was peeking through the key hole of the room door, watched as her parents began discussing on what to do with her.

“What are we going to do? There’s nothing wrong with our daughter Adrian! They are mistaken!” Alyssa was now close to tears.

“I’ll send the school an owl tomorrow, maybe they are mistaken.”

“The school IS mistaken! She is not a squib! My daughter is not a squib!” Alyssa said with new found faith in her voice.

Arabella, who decided she had done enough spying for the night, tip toed back to her room. She was suppose to be asleep an hour ago, but when she had heard of her cousin receiving his letter earlier that day, she couldn’t stop thinking why she had not gotten hers. Now she knew.

She was a squib. Or at least, that was what her mother feared she was.

Arabella Doreen Figg was an ordinary girl, perhaps too ordinary. Unlike her cousins, she could not make funny things happen. She could not make flowers bloom when she felt happy, nor could she crack teapot sets when she was angry. Her cousins seem to be doing pretty well in that area, while she tried and failed every time.

But just like her mother, Arabella refused to accept the fact that she was not like her parents and cousins. She had convinced herself that the owl carrying her Hogwarts acceptance letter had died or lost its way. And if so, she should at least write to the headmaster of Hogwarts, to ask him to send another.

With that new goal in mind, she grabbed for a parchment and began writing.

“Dear Professor Scamander,

I would like to inform you that I have not received my Hogwarts acceptance letter. I am pretty sure the owl you sent have lost its way, or worse, died along its treacherous journey to my house.

If you could so kindly send me another, I would truly appreciate it.

Yours sincerely, Arabelle Doreen Figg. “

Once she had read her written letter ten times, she folded it up and slipped it into the nicest envelope she could find in her desk drawer.

Careful not to alert her parents, she sneaked into their living room and attached the letter to their tawny owl, which sat by an open window.

“Hogwarts ok?” she said to the owl in a whisper.

The owl hooted lazily and took off into the night sky. As she watched its silhouette disappear among the stars, Arabella was sure she would get an apology letter by tomorrow.

With her mind finally at peace, she went to bed and fell straight to sleep the moment her head hit her pillow.

True enough, when morning came, she found her parents staring at a Hogwarts letter in her father’s hand.

“What’s that? Is that my letter?” Arabella made a dash to her father, grabbing the letter from him.

Her parents smiled widely at her, they too could not believe what they had just received.

“Can I open it?” Arabella’s eyes glistened with excitement.

“Go ahead!” her mother said as she continued making breakfast with a smile she couldn’t wipe off her face.

Arabella ran to her room, shut the door and slumped on her bed staring at the letter in her hand.

“It’s finally here!” she squealed.

Slowly and carefully, she tore the envelope open. Her heart was racing like the orient express as she unfolded the letter and began to read.

“Dear Ms. Figg,

It is my deepest regret to inform you that you have not been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We are sorry to say that your lack of magical abilities has made it hard for us to accept your entry.

I hope you have a nice day.

Yours truly, Professor Newton Scamander.”

Arabella read the letter again, and again, and again, hoping she had read wrongly. But she had not. She felt like crying, but she somehow knew she saw it coming. What could she do if she lacked magical abilities?

As she entered the living room, in which her parents were happily waiting for the good news, she placed the letter on a side table and confidently said, “I didn’t want to go there anyway.”

Striding out of the room, with her head held high, Arabella tried to shut out the voices of her angry and upset parents. It was bad enough being confirmed as a squib that she didn’t need to hear her parents’ distraught at her non-magical self.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she convinced herself yet another time. And as long as she could stay convinced, she never looked back.

Then again, the truth was never as harsh on her as it was on her parents. After all, she was only 11, barely understanding the vast difference between a magical life and a non-magical one.

(On life and stuff requested a story on Ms. Figg, you can request yours too in the comments below!)

Fan Fiction (Novel)

Chapter 5:

Joanna reached for the book under her cloak, thinking. And then with a casual shrug, she folded her arms on her table and ignored him.

She tried her very best to stay focus on the subject being taught and ignore the clearing of the throat and the shifting of the chair that was happening right next to her.

Once class had ended, Joanna hurried out and ran. She had to burn the book right away before he could stop her. As she climbed into the empty common room, she immediately headed towards the fireplace.

Pulling the book out, she nodded to herself. It has to go. With that in mind, she threw the book into the fire. Expecting the pages to light up in flames, Joanna stood back and waited. But she soon realized the book was not burning.

“It doesn’t burn. And you say your family is into the dark arts?” Tom chuckled from behind her.

Joanna spun around immediately to see the smirk on Tom’s face.

“How did you get in?” she asked slowly.

“I’m a prefect, and soon to be head prefect. I know ALL the passwords,” Tom answered as he brushed past her and picked the book up from the fireplace.

He then reached for his wand as he eyed Joanna. Instantly, she quickly backed away. Joanna was ready to admit she was afraid of him.

“Relax. I’m just playing with you,” Tom laughed at her reaction and walked out the common room, leaving Joanna in a concoction of uncertain emotions.

Days passed and Joanna had not spoken to Tom, or at least, she didn’t want to. He came to class and then disappeared after, and she couldn’t help but suspiciously wonder. But as school work started to pile up, she didn’t have time to think about him anymore.

One afternoon, Joanna headed to the library wanting to catch up on some of her work. Her new friends were a noisy bunch and the library was the only place she could find peace.

As she made her way to an empty table, she saw Tom. He was at a corner reading a book. Joanna was tempted to see what he was up to, but before she could decide on anything, Tom turned to look in her direction, as though he knew she was there.

Joanna quickly looked away and buried her face in her copy of Standard Book of Spells Grade 6. She was finally able to focus on what she was reading when someone sat across from her.

As she slowly lowered her book, she found Tom looking at her.

“What?” Joanna asked.

“I want to ask you something,” Tom said as he leaned forward. “How did your uncle die?”

“I don’t know. He just did.” Joanna eyed him suspiciously.

“Did he do the spell wrong?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

“Then how do you know he died trying to make a you-know-what?”

“Because they found a copy of this book, in his room, the day they found his body.” Joanna pointed at the big book, in which she knew Tom hid the other book in.

“They destroyed the book after his death,” Joanna continued.

“Sad,” Tom remarked.

It was then that curiosity started to make her hands tingle and her old habits of digging out secrets made her want to know more.

“Have you asked anyone about making a you-know-what?” Joanna finally shut the book she attempted to read earlier.

“Professor Slughorn. But that was before I actually read the entire book.”

“Did he say it could be done?”

“Yes, but I’m not asking him again. He’s already suspicious of me asking about you-know-what.”

“Well, if you want to try, you should prepare first. An item of some sort.”

“I already have,” Tom said as he rubbed the ring on his finger.

“Your fathers?” Joanna said as she admired the black diamond on his finger.

“Grandfather’s.”

“Dead?”

“Very.” Tom stared at his ring.

“I’m sorry,” Joanna naturally responded.

“Oh, don’t be. I never knew him.”

They sat in silence for a while before Joanna decided to bring up a fact, “You know, you have to kill somebody in order to make a you-know-what.”

“I know.”

Joanna raised an eyebrow when Tom looked up at her and folded his fingers, symbolizing the number 3.

It took her a moment to understand what it meant, and when she finally did, her eyes widened as she leaned away from him. Though it wasn’t all that strange to hear someone tell her of the deaths they have caused, but hearing from a boy her age brought back the fear she had for him.

“You only need one,” Joanna said, trying to sound unaffected by the little secret he chose to share.

“I’m trying to make more than one you-know-what,” Tom said as casually as he could.

Joanna swallowed at the idea.

“You seem to know a lot about these kind of magic, can you help me?” Tom’s question caught her by surprise.

“I know, but I don’t practice,” Joanna quickly answered.

“I’m not asking you to, I’m just asking for your help,” Tom said, locking his eyes on hers as he waited for an answer.

To be continued…

(Leave a comment below or vote on whether Joanna should help Tom or not!)

Fan Fiction (Novel)

Chapter 4:

Joanna pointed her wand at Tom, “Expelliarmus!”

It caught Tom by surprise as his wand flew out of his hand. Disarmed, Joanna walked towards him as Tom backed up, reaching for his wand.

“Let me see it and I won’t hurt you,” Joanna calmly said as Tom picked his wand up.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” Tom smirked.

“Oh? Let’s see you try.” Joanna wasn’t sure what she had asked for, but her adrenaline was rushing and it was the excitement she didn’t have for quite some time now.

“I would, but I don’t think you’re a match at all. It’ll be rather mean to pick on a weaker student, wouldn’t it?”

Joanna chuckled. “You sound like Malfoy right there.”

“The only difference is that I’m not Malfoy. And you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“And YOU don’t know what I’m capable of,” Joanna replied. She felt as though she was talking to herself, who was typically the only one who actually stood up to her.

“Well then, let’s see. Ladies first,” Tom said with a bow.

Joanna thought briefly about waking up the Professors, but she immediately brushed the thought aside. She wasn’t going to give up the chance to prove this boy wrong.

“Incarcerous!” A bright yellow light escaped Joanna’s wand and the moment it hit Tom, ropes twisted around his body.

“Incendio!” Tom quickly said and the ropes were set on fire just before they could tighten around him. Within seconds, they disintegrated, with its ashes collecting on the ground in a circle around him.

“My turn. Impedimenta!” Tom waved his wand at her.

Joanna saw the green spark flying and quickly muttered, “Protego.”

Tom didn’t wait as he threw another spell. “Stupefy!”

“Protego.” Joanna defended again. He gave her no chance for an offense.

“Petrifucus Totalus!”

“Protego!”

“Expulso!”

Joanna dodge the last spell as it hit a nearby door, shattering it into a million pieces and sending splinters everywhere.

“Did you just try to blow me up?!” Joanna yelled.

Just before she could throw a spell at him, she heard footsteps. And when their eyes met in the brief moment of panic, he waved for her to follow him.

They ran down a hallway and entered the first door they saw. It was a small, cramped up store room.

“Great,” Joanna muttered under her breath. She was about to say something else when Tom placed his hand over her mouth.

His perfect timing saved them from being caught as the sound of footsteps were accompanied by shadows, passed by the store room.

But after the shadows were gone and the sound of footsteps died off, Joanna blurted out, “You tried to blow me up!”

“Yes, I was pretty aware of that.”

“You’re crazy!” Joanna kicked his sheen and Tom yelped.

“I could have died!” Joanna continued.

“You look very much alive to me.” Tom shrugged as he exited the store room.

“What were you thinking?” Joanna followed after him, lowering her voice.

“I was thinking of blowing you up,” Tom answered bluntly and started walking.

Joanna, unsatisfied with his answers, followed after him. And when she gave his arm a sudden tug, the book fell onto the floor. Fortunately, she reached for it before he did.

“Bloody hell,” Tom muttered.

“Goodnight,” Joanna said as she quickly walked in the opposite direction.

“Wait, we can read it together,” Tom called out to her softly.

“I’ll read it alone,” Joanna said and tried her very best to disapparate correctly this time.

It must have somehow worked as she landed on her back in the Hufflepuff common room. She quickly got up and checked if she had any missing limbs, and to her surprise, she was still intact.

The common room was quiet and empty. Everyone was pretty much asleep and Joanna saw no harm in reading the book right there and then. With that, she settled down on a couch by the fire place and started reading.

She had finished the book pretty quickly and had a full hour of sleep before she had to clean up and head to the great hall for breakfast.

That morning, Joanna tucked the book under her cloak and followed Annoria to the great hall. Annoria, who kept hassling for a reason why Joanna wasn’t in bed last night, kept a suspicious expression throughout breakfast. But that didn’t bother Joanna much.

Breakfast ended with Tom no where in sight. Joanna was half glad she didn’t see him, but he was only missing at breakfast because during Charms, he turned up and sat right next to her.

“Where’s the book?” Tom whispered.

“It’s with me,” Joanna replied, eyes still fixed on the Professor in front.

“Give it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to make a Horcrux?” Joanna boldly asked.

“It’s none of your business.”

“It’s very dangerous. People die trying you know.”

“I don’t really care. Now please give it,” Tom said, sounding a bit annoyed.

“My uncle died trying,” Joanna said as she leaned forward, looking attentive to the lecture.

“Your family… are into the dark arts?” There was a hint of interest in Tom’s voice.

“My mother’s side of the family, but most of them are dead anyways,” Joanna casually answered, as though it was no big deal.

“Well then, if you could be so kind to hand me the book, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Joanna hesitated. Her aunts and uncles were mostly dead or about to die. The dark arts messed them up pretty good and Joanna wasn’t sure if she should give Tom the book. He could die. And it wasn’t magic a 16 year old should be playing around with.

To be continued…

(Leave a comment below or vote on whether Joanna should give the book to Tom, or attempt to destroy it!)

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Magic Never Again

It was a perfect day to go outside. Or so Ariana thought, as she ran down a meadow. The sun felt warm on her skin, and the clear sky was in a perfect shade of pastel blue that Ariana wished she could use it as paint.

As she sat down under a tree, Ariana couldn’t wait to do her little tricks. Tricks her brothers called magic. Something her parents said to be a gift, and boy, she loved this gift!

Raising her small palm, she closed her eyes and thought of a butterfly. And as expected, what came fluttering out of her hand was a small yellow butterfly. Her blue eyes sparkled as the butterfly took off from her palm and into the sky.

“More!” Ariana said to herself with a giggle as she closed both her hands this time. Making two more butterflies.

Her excitement made her continue. More butterflies she made, and every time they appeared on her palm, her blue eyes would light up.

Being six, bliss was found in everything she saw. Even in the butterflies she made. But her bliss was short lived when she saw a few boys staring at her from across the meadow.

Ariana watched them as they watched her. They whispered to one another and though she was rather curious on what they were up to, she decided to ignore them and return to making more butterflies.

One after another, butterflies escaped her palms. She was getting better at it and she was ecstatic.

Giggling as butterflies filled the tree above her head, she had not notice the boys walking towards her. And when she finally did, they were only a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” one of the boys asked skeptically.

“Making butterflies!” Ariana smiled from ear to ear.

“It’s a trick, isn’t it?” another boy asked.

“It’s magic!” Ariana innocently answered.

“There’s no such thing as magic you freak!” the same boy shouted.

Ariana who was shock by the accusation, quickly got on her feet.

“Yea! You must be a freak if you can do magic!” the other boy added.

“Freak! You’re a freak!” They began taunting her.

Ariana, who was confuse and hurt, started to sob. Was she really a freak? Ariana thought as she watch the butterflies in the tree slowly fluttering away.

“I’m special! I’m not a freak!” Ariana shouted at the boys.

“Oh yea? Who said so?”

“My mother and father!” Ariana bravely answered.

And as she did, one of them pushed her to the ground, “Shut up freak!”

“Yea! Shut up!” another boy added as he gave her a kick.

His action triggered the rest to follow after, as one by one they started kicking her. Taunting and calling her a freak as they did.

Ariana, quickly curled up as she took their blows. Tears falling down her cheeks and her constant plea for them to stop did not help. She was scared and confused. She didn’t know why they hated her. All she did was make butterflies. Was it so wrong?

The boys finally stopped after what seemed like a long time of kicking and stomping the young girl.

“Freaks should die!” one of them shouted as they backed away from her and started to leave.

“I hope you die” another spat at her before he followed after his friends.

Ariana, still curled up, didn’t dare to move. And as her tears kept falling, she kept wondering. If she had to die for being special, she didn’t want to be special anymore. She didn’t want to make butterflies or make flowers bloom. She didn’t want to make colorful fishes or heal the baby bird’s broken wings. She didn’t want to do magic. It was a horrid thing.

As day became night, Ariana stayed curled up till her brothers shouted her name. When she looked up and saw Albus and Aberforth hovering over her, she only said one thing, “No more.”

Her brothers, who immediately noticed the bruises and wounds on her body hurriedly brought her home. And as her distraught mother patched up her wounds, her father left the house without a word after she told him what had happened.

And though Ariana was a bit confused with her parents reaction, she was clear on one thing. She was never doing magic again. Magic was bad. It was horrid. And she will die if she made another butterfly. With that, Ariana slept and never again would you see her little hands make that day’s delights ever again.