An active, character-driven Hogwarts experience set in the early 2000s. Unique items, plots, and features. Non-canon; this isn't Harry Potter's story, it's ours.
The sunlight was fading and he was exhausted, but Oscar kept swimming, pushing his small body as hard as he could. He ignored the hunger that was gnawing at him and the burning in his limbs as he forced them to keep moving. He had to keep going. He had to get better.
So focused on the struggle of keeping his head above the water, he completely missed the boat in front of him. It was the light being held out above it that finally caught his attention.
Oscar slowed down until his only movements were to stay afloat and looked up to see his mother's disappointed face.
“Oscar Tinkle,” she said, drawing the name out as his eyes met her matching ones.
Uh-oh. A fullname? Ohh boy was he in trouble. He nearly started crying at her expression. He hadn’t meant to disappoint her, he just wanted to get better so that he could make everyone proud!
“Mamma-” he started, only to stop with a squeak.
He’d suddenly been lifted into the air by an invisible hand and he was very shocked by it. He looked down at the water that he was no longer touching then up at his mother, to see that she had her wand in the opposite hand to her lantern, pointing it at him. He was not sure what to do (could he swim in the air?) but before he could figure anything out he was gently floated in the direction of the boat.
He squeaked again as he was set down in the boat so smoothly that it barely rocked.
“Now, would you like to explain why your Nonna’s table was missing somebody tonight?” She raised the eyebrow of doom at him. “I thought you were looking forward to your favourite.”
Oscar shrugged, finding the string of his swim shorts too fascinating to meet her eyes.
It was true, he had been looking forward to dinner. He’d been excited all day! First he had actually received a small smile from Nonno Emilio that morning when he joined his swim. And then during breakfast Nonna Sofia had said that they were having his favourite for dinner when he nearly never got to have his favourite at his grandparents house. It had been gearing up to be the best day ever!
But then his cousins had spotted him when he was practicing his breaststroke (that was how Nonno always swam, so it had to be the bestest!) and suddenly his day hadn’t been so great.
“Oh Oscar,” Nora sighed. She set the lantern to the side and then turned her wand on him once more, gently tapping his forehead with it.
With a blast of hot air, he was dry and felt warm and toasty like he was getting a big hug. The only thing that would have made it better would be- Oh! That. She had tugged him onto her lap and wrapped her cardigan around him in a big hug.
“What did they say this time, baby?” she asked him after dropping a kiss into his hair.
Oscar chewed his lip for a moment, wondering if he should say anything or if it would mean he was weak just like his cousin said. It was the safety of being in his Mamma’s arms that finally decided it, nothing could hurt him there!
“‘Tonio said ‘cos I can’t swim as fast as him that I’m a dis’pointment and that Nonno won’ let me swim with him no more,” he muttered, snuggling even closer in her hold. “He said that Nonno said that I gotta be as fast as ‘Tonio so I gotta race him. I gotta practice, Mamma!”
He didn’t mention how Enzo had been tugging his ankles so he kept dipping under the water while his oldest cousin was saying that. It was just playing after all, right? Enzo had been playing with him, the only one of his cousin’s that seemed willing. Antonio thought he was too much of a baby, and Davide preferred his books and would roll his eyes at him then say something that Oscar didn’t understand. That last one left him feeling stupid.
“Oscar, baby, Antonio is twelve,” Nora said after she took a calming breath.
Oscar shrugged, that didn’t matter.
“Want to know a secret?” She finally asked, tipping his head up so she could see his face.
“Mhmm,” he nodded, curls going flying.
“Your cousin is jealous,” she said, smoothing his curls away from covering his eyes.
“No, listen,” she continued as he looked at her in disbelief. “Your Nonno is not a man to let his feelings be known easily, but he enjoys his morning swim and he was proud to see you join him. Now, when your cousin was your age he was scared of swimming without safety charms. You see? He is jealous that you have something to bond so easily with your Nonno while he believes that is his job as heir. Now, do you still like swimming?”
He nodded.
“Good, so no listening to your cousin anymore and keep doing what you like. But Oscar? No more swimming in the lake without anyone. And no more missing dinner. Even little fishies need to eat!”
She poked his stomach earning a giggle. He felt much better after Mamma had reassured him.
It was spring and, surprise surprise, Oscar was filled with worry. It had hit him that his turn for going to magic school was fast approaching, and naturally that had caused him to spiral into thoughts of what if he wasn't magical enough. What if a wand didn’t even pick him? Would he still be allowed to go to school?
After hearing his dad’s tales from Hogwarts all of his life, he really wanted to be able to go to school in the autumn. Okay, so it was not yet a sure thing that if he did go to a magic school that it would be Hogwarts, but he still had his heart set there. If he was not allowed to go only because a wand didn’t pick him then he would be devastated.
He decided that the only thing to do would be to make his own wand! He’d watched his Gramps whittle and carve various objects over the years, something that he found fascinating, so how hard could it be to make a stick? It probably wouldn’t be up to his Gramps’ standard but that was because he made the best objects -- Oscar’s bedroom could attest to the man’s skill with carving animal figures. A wand would be a wand though, no matter how ugly it might end up.
With that decided, Oscar had run off with his Gramps’ tools and a big stick that he’d found and deemed perfect. His attempts to turn the stick into a wand? Less perfect. The knife repeatedly got stuck in the wood and more than once the stick had slipped away altogether, causing him to nearly hurt himself.
“Come on,” he muttered as he followed his next bright idea to balance the stick on one of the water trough’s that Nanna kept for the animals. “Please work.”
He didn’t know how long he had been at it when large, warm hands covered his own and started to direct the knife.
Oscar looked up in shock, though he immediately recognised the laugh-lined face of his Gramps.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked quietly as he looked back down at the stick and knife that the old man was directing for him. It was going much smoother, at least.
“Not if you tell me what’s going through that head of yours,” Gramps finally said after a few strokes done in silence. The man knew his grandson well enough to realise that something was bothering him.
“Wanted to make a wand,” Oscar admitted as he tried to figure out what his grandpa was doing differently to get the carving to go easier. Maybe if he watched close enough he could figure out how to make animals like the man one day?
“Hmm,” Gramps hummed as he brushed off the stick to better see how they were doing. “Aren’t those supposed to have insides?” He was not the most knowledgeable about the whole magic thing, but he had listened to his own son’s rambles enough over the years to know some basics.
“Yeah,” Oscar nodded, trailing his fingers over the stick as his Gramps showed him. He was not sure what he was doing but he silently agreed that yes, it did feel wood-like. “Was gonna use cat hair.” See? He had a plan. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get the cat fur in there but would figure that out later. He liked cats, so he was sure it would work as a core.
“Not goat hair?” Gramps asked, his lips twitching into a smile at his grandson's answer. He was pretty sure wands usually had more magical cores.
“No... Do you think that would work better?” He was supposed to brush the goats later anyway, so Oscar thought it would be easy enough to get. And if Gramps thought it would be better then he must be right.
Gramps hummed again, turning serious once more as he thought over Oscar’s answers to figure out just what might have worried him.
“You know, when you were a toddler, you used to make your stuffed lamb appear whenever you wanted,” the old man said, leaving Oscar confused about why he was bringing up Tuffy. He huffed when he saw the ten year old's confusion. “I mean, you are obviously a magical child, Oscar. So why are you worried about a wand?”
“What if I’m not enough, Gramps?” Oscar finally asked after wondering why his granddad had to be so smart.
“You are.” Gramps said, not accepting any arguments against that. He was not quite sure how, but he was sure that his grandson’s other grandparents were to blame for the boy's doubts. “Just keep being you and you will be great. And,” he held up the stick that they had finished carving into looking like a wand. “If anyone says otherwise, poke ‘em in the eye.”
If the oldest Tinkle was hoping that Oscar’s other granddad would fall victim to that, well that was only for him to know.