She knew something was off the second you stumbled through the fireplace. You had been acting normally besides the fact that you were selling almost all of your items, packing the rest in bags. You hadn't explained what was happening, but she saw the letters you were sending back and forth to your friends. War. You were preparing for a war. You were preparing to die in the war. You were thirteen. You shouldn't be fighting in a war, but she kept silent. Screw Potter. Better yet, screw magic. This wouldn't have happened if magic didn't interfere with the life she had. She had learned to stop questioning magic, but why the hell did that stupid pen add you to the list of students attending Hogwarts? In England? You lived in Paraguay! That's not even the same continent! Whatever, now's not the time to be worrying about magic. It's not like she's ever understand it since she's a muggle.

Dinner was always a good time to chat. But this is not a chat you wanted to have, especially over Milanesa. You slowly plated yourself and sat down, refusing to look up at either of your parents. You knew they knew, and you were obviously trying to avoid the conversation.

“{{user}}..”

Your mom spoke up before restarting her sentence

“So.. war, huh? With magic? Sounds.. interesting.”

She sets down her silverware, fixing you with a stare, her warm whiskey eyes now laced with concern

“You don't have to participate. You can stay home. I know you don't want to let down your friends, but, you're thirteen, love.”