Begotten

Moriah Priel was sitting on her cot of a bed when the letter arrived. A strange tapping noise reached her ears, and when she looked up, she saw a tawny owl perched just outside her window, pecking at the glass with its beak.

Frown on her face, the small blonde girl opened the latch, letting the bird in. There was an envelope tied to one of its legs, and eyeing the owl to make sure it wasn’t dangerous, she untied the parcel. Almost immediately, the bird flew back out, leaving Moriah alone in the room, which was not uncommon.

She sat down on her bed with the envelope in hand. It was addressed to her:

Ms. M. Priel
Second Top Window
Wool’s Orphanage
London

It was sealed with wax, a crest imprinted on it with a big ‘H’ in the middle. This was the first letter she had ever received, so naturally, Moriah was highly suspicious.
Biting her bottom lip, she opened the envelope and pulled two pieces of folded parchment from it.



Dear Ms. Priel,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

This had to be a joke. Moriah stared open-mouthed at the letter. Witchcraft and wizardry? What did that even mean? She looked at the other sheet of paper which looked just as real and serious as the previous.

UNIFORM
Three sets of plain work robes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

None of this made sense. She skimmed the list of course books, all of which with titles that almost made the girl laugh. The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginners’ guide to Transfiguration—the list went on. There was also a list of equipment she would need and a note to parents about first years not being allowed to own their own broomsticks.

Moriah had half a mind to just rip the letter up. Then, her mind wandered. She could do things, after all—things the other children in the orphanage couldn’t. She could make things float, could make flowers bloom, and even retrieve things just by thinking about it.

Maybe it was witchcraft.

Moriah laughed. There was no way.

Still, she stood from the bed, letter in hand, and decided to ask Ms. Drummond about it.

Downstairs, the middle-aged woman was cooking spaghetti, straining the water from the noodles, steam rising around her head and shoulders.

“Ms. Drummond,” Moriah called out.

“Yes?” She emptied the noodles back into a large pot and turned around, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Hello, Moriah.”

The girl showed a small smile. “Could I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, dear! Come, sit down.”

They both walked over to the small table in the kitchen that Ms. Drummond usually used to serve hot cocoa on for the few children who couldn’t sleep on some nights.

“You look troubled.”

“Confused, is more like,” Moriah responded. “I just got this letter. A-an owl brought it to my window.” She held the parchment out.

The woman’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing and took the letter, reading over it silently.

“It can’t be real, can it?”

Before answering, she looked over the paper that had all of the books and school equipment on it. Moriah continued to nibble on her lower lip.

When Ms. Drummond set the letter down on the table, she looked up with a smile. “Can I let you in on something, Moriah?” The girl nodded. “My grandmother, the one who previously owned this orphanage, told me of a boy once. He was a bit strange. The other children avoided him. Then one day, a man—I can’t remember his name—he came to the orphanage, and he talked about a school. A school of magic.” Her eyes shined, and Moriah leaned forward in her chair without realizing it. “The boy was a wizard, just like it says here, and he went to the school, coming back only during the summer.”

Looking at her caretaker with wide eyes, Moriah blinked several times. “So, I’m a-a wizard?”

Ms. Drummond laughed. “I believe you’re a witch since you’re a girl, but yes. We don’t get many here. In fact, you’re the only one since that boy. Few as there seem to be, they do exist.”

“And you just know this because of Mrs. Cole?”

She nodded then stood up. “I’ll write to this Dumbledore tonight, and then we can see about getting you your school supplies. It is the twenty-third, after all.”

“I can- I can go myself, I think. I just need directions.”

Smiling once again, Ms. Drummond nodded, knowing well that Moriah Priel had always been a rather independent child.

“Very well,” she pat the blonde on the back before pulling her into a loose, sideways hug. “I always knew you were a special girl.”



Another letter was flown to the orphanage just a few days later. It listed steps on how to get to a place called Diagon Alley. It was confusing and completely new to Moriah, but in the end, she wanted to go by herself.

Ms. Drummond arranged for a car to pick her up and drop her off, and at around noon, Moriah found herself standing outside of what looked to be a pub. A sign hung above it. The Leaky Cauldron, Moriah read, then with a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It was very crowded, and all of the people looked a bit strange. Most were wearing robes and funny hats, but some were dressed normally. She shouldered her way through the masses until she found a small counter. There was a hunched over, toothless man behind it, the latter becoming more noticeable when he caught sight of the small girl and smiled.

“Diagon Alley, Miss?”

Moriah nodded, and he lifted the counter so that she could pass.

“Follow me, Miss.”

She walked after him, careful not to stare too openly. The barman led her through the building, opening up a back door. There was nothing but a brick wall and a dumpster.

This couldn’t be right.

“Step back, Miss.”

Moriah frowned but took a couple of steps backward, watching as the man pulled out a sleek stick that she could easily assume was a wand. He tapped on the wall, and the blonde gazed on with wide eyes as an entry way formed, pushing the bricks aside and opening up to a bustling street.

“There you are, Miss.”

The girl nodded in a daze before walking through slowly, mouth open in amazement.

It took her a while to recover, but after being jostled by strangers a few times, she took her school list from her jeans pocket and read over the directions she had scribbled on the back.

Gringotts Bank, vault 518. There was a small key taped to the paper that Moriah pocketed. She began walking, eyeing all of the building as she passed them until her eyes fell upon a huge white one.

Must be it.

Moriah almost screamed when she walked in. Tiny little creatures walked around. They were dressed in little suits but had bat-like ears and sharp teeth. When she greeted one, he was less than friendly, though he did tell her what to do to access her vault, and after a sickening rollercoaster of a ride underground, the eleven-year-old emerged with a bag full of coins.

Scanning her list once again, she roamed the alley with her eyes peeled for a bookstore which she found under the name of Flourish and Blotts. The woman behind the counter took one look at Moriah, hidden behind her stack of school books and asked if she’d like them transported to her home, and after a vigorous nod, Moriah spouted off the address then jumped slightly when they vanished with a small pop.

After getting fitted for robes, picking out a standard cauldron, and adopting a black kitten named Klaus, it was time to get what was probably the most important wizard necessity: a wand.

Moriah walked into an old, dusty shop, nose twitching, and made her way to the counter. The walls were lined with slim boxes—too many for the small store to hold, and before her finger even hit the small assistance bell, an elderly man seemed to fly out of the stacks.

“Moriah Priel,” he showed a grim smile that made the girl uncomfortable.

“H-how did you know?”

“I remember your father. Very powerful wizard.”

Moriah blinked at this. Her father was a wizard? Wiping the shocked look from her face, she shrugged. “Well, he’s in prison now, so…”

“Yes, right, right.” The man fumbled with some boxes, laying them out on the counter. “Of course. Terrible business. Now, let’s have you try these out.” He demonstrated what to do, though he probably wished he hadn’t after Moriah basically destroyed half of his shop.

There was quite a lot of trial and error, but after about twenty minutes, Moriah picked up a dark mahogany wand and grinned. She could feel a pulsing in her hand as warmth spread throughout her body.

“Ten inch mahogany with a core of kelpie hair. Uncommon, but everyone is different.”

She paid him and left with a smile, oblivious to the troubled expression on the wand maker’s face.

Moriah left Diagon Alley with just her wand and Klaus the kitten as everything else had been sent back to the orphanage. The same car was waiting for her outside of The Leaky Cauldron, and when she got inside, the driver put down his newspaper. “Find everything you needed, Miss?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, a new excitement bubbling inside of her.