Childhood

Mykew had always been a realist so he knew that he didn't have the power to contend against the person who was responsible for his magic acting in such a way and he had no heart to fight against the other person.

Moreover, with the current state of The Wizarding World, he didn't want to be in the limelight for his magic.

He had always known from a very young age that he had vast magical reserves and that his magic had also tested in the top few who always ended up almost breaking the constraints of the Magical Power Spectrum.

When his parents had taken him to Gringotts on his Seventh birthday to check his power on the Magical Power Scale, everyone had been astonished at the results.

His parents had already started planning a lavish party to celebrate (brag) about it but before he had left the Gringotts Branch, a Goblin had come up to him and given him a single scrap of paper.

Though Mykew had wondered as to why the Goblin was readily talking to a human of their own accord, he had instinctively known not to bring that fact to the attention of his parents who had been ecstatic about the turn of the events.

When he had returned home and had gotten away from the clutches of his parents, he had opened the small scrap of parchment which looked like it had been torn off a Gringotts ledger in a hurry and the words had been hastily but succinctly written over it.

He remembered that there had been only six words written on the small parchment.

'Slumbering Mage. Don't let anyone know.'

Even at such a young age, Mykew had known the meaning and ramifications of those words and had thanked his lucky stars for the advice and warring given by the Goblins.

He did not doubt that the Goblins had done that out of the purity of their heart but still, it had prepared him for the storm that could come if the secret was revealed to anybody.

So, he had made a swift decision and disclosed the truth to his maternal grandmother – the only person he had ever been close to since he had gained self-awareness.

His father had always been out and about trying to amass wealth and make connections to make The Gregorovitch family even more prominent. His mother had always been busy acting as the simpering social butterfly to talk to other top-tier Ladies of various Houses of Europe.

They had never had the time to spare to their only child and he had grown up in the tender care of his maternal grandmother.

He had always known that he had been nothing more than way to secure her position for his mother because his father had many mistresses outside of the estate and his mother was paranoid enough to know that those mistresses wouldn't blink an eye to see him dead and deposed so that they could enter the prestigious Gregorovitch family.

As for his father, the less said the better. For his father, he was nothing more than a person who shared his name and blood. If he ever dared to step a toe out of line for any reason – real or imaginary, his father hadn't hesitated to show his displeasure in the most creative and cruel ways.

But, it had all changed when they had come back from Gringotts and Mkykew had felt a faint hope that maybe he also could experience the genuine love and warmth of a family.

His mother had praised him non-stop on the way back and his father had for the first time looked at him with a proud glint in his eyes and said, "You have done me and the Gregorovitch name proud."

Sadly, those dreams had come crashing down under the hard reality of words written by the Goblins and he had realised why his usual reticent parents were showering him with love.

When he had shown the words to his grandmother, she had gone pale in a matter of seconds and had questioned him repeatedly to inform him of everything that had happened once he and his parents had been informed of the results.

Once she was sure that the three of them hadn't had the time to disclose the matter to others, she had heaved a sigh of relief. But that had quickly changed when he had informed her of the extravagant party his parents were planning in his dubious honour.

Mykew fondly recalled how the old woman had cursed like a sailor on the sea and then turned towards him with a serious face – a face she had never worn in front of him ever and strictly ordered.

"My grandchild, though my fool of a daughter and her husband will think of this as a huge honour and parade you like a trophy, this is bad news for you. If anybody gets hold of the news of your immense power, people wouldn't stop at anything to obtain you or your power at any cost."

He hadn't understood the reasoning behind the words except for the superficial understanding of a seven-year-old child but he had nodded his head because he had always followed her words to a T.

When he had noticed the thin veneer of tears in her eyes that the old lady had been trying her best to keep at bay, he had curiously asked her, "Grandma, why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing, child. It's just the Pixie Dust in here."