Ivy was stunned. Hogwarts was everything she imagined, and much, much more! It was giant and beautiful, but still had a feeling of home about it that warmed her heart. Her mouth must have been open, because several other students snickered at her. She snapped it shut and glared at them, daring them to say something. Someone did. A boy sitting next to her on the boat commented, “Probably a mud-blood.” He had light blonde hair and an expression on his face that implied he was better than everyone else. “What did you say?” Ivy asked, getting angry. She took out her newly bought wand and held it tightly in her hand. “You’re muggle-born, arent you?” The boy asked, a disgusted expression on his face. “That’s none of your business,” Ivy said angrily, and she turned away from him. The rest of the boat ride was silent. Ivy, in fact, was not muggle-born. She was from a pure-blood family. But her parents were not something she wanted to talk about. She buried them deep inside her brain, never meant to see the light of day. When she was younger, she would ask her aunt, who raised her, about her parents. Her aunt would always shush her and scold her. “You don’t want to know about them.” That only made Ivy more curious. So, when Ivy was 7, she decided to do some research. She asked around, studied books, and did everything she could to figure out who her parents were. One day, she was looking through a pile of old newspapers when she found a name that stood out to her. It was her own last name, Taylor. After reading the article, Ivy vowed to never speak of her parents again. That day, Ivy had found out that her parents were serving a life sentence in Azkaban. They had been Death Eaters.
I copied and pasted from my other account, @nchanlin I’ll be writing this on this account now next: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/882408764
