Anger stewing inside me. Blood boiling. The world taking on a red gleam. These are my memories I can recall before the moment I yelled, "No!" At the top of my lungs. My voice cracked, so it was more appropriate for the substantial scarlet explosion that went up at my feet, sparking red and warming my face. The girl I was yelling at flies back. The dust clears and I can see she has been burned. Bright red scars running along her cheeks and neck.

A few weeks later, I got my owl.

I had been in out-of-school suspension for a week for "bringing explosives to school" for about three weeks at that time. It explained a lot, and made my fear burn just under the surface of my skin, and I swear I felt magical charge  build up in my fingers, threatening to burst out as sparks. I flicked them to be safe.

I like to say that I chose to take lessons on this technological platform because I'll probably pursue a Muggle career anyway, but really, I'm afraid to attend in person. I'd likely be caught in anger without my wand in hand, and blow up half of Ravenclaw Tower. I haven't touched my wand yet for fear of screwing up the spells, though I know eventually I'll have to.