My son’s not a muggle (Yayy!)




I was 15 when I started at Hogwarts and now at 28 I am still under the spell. The best part – I don’t intend to come out of it. Ever.

For a witch married to a muggle, the most delightful day is when her child shows signs of wizardry. Finally, I now have someone who can spot Platform 9-3/4 at ordinary looking railway stations; who dreams of strolling the streets of Hogsmead and the way I feel bad to have born and graduated out of Hogwards before Harry, Ron and Hermione, his only woe in life is to have born years after they graduated.

“Mom, tell me more about the founders of Hogwards. How did Salazar Slytherin figure out where to build the chamber of secrets? ……I thought the Basilisk had green eyes. It would have looked more creepy, no?”

Endless questions and an imagination that soars.. I couldn’t help but smile. No matter how much he asks, I try to keep my stories play a trailer, not the complete movie. I don’t want him to miss the thrill while he pours over the books.

Last night, he was dreaming about his sorting session, it seems. He was murmuring something like ‘Hufflep-l-uff’ ..I kissed him on his cheek.

“Oh not again! I don’t want another multiple personality disorder patient in my house. Not my son!!!” moaned the muggle father.

I shrugged.



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