My name has been Kherington Squires for the past seven years. I have curly black hair and blue eyes this term. I am seventeen years old and attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am in Gryffindor. I have two older brothers and one twin sister, but she’s at Beauxbatons. My parents thought that it would be best, since our whole family tries to fly under the radar.
That’s what I’ve been doing for basically my whole life – flying under the radar. I was on the fringe as Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin built Hogwarts. I noted and recorded their fighting and even saw Salazar Slytherin build his secret chamber. I was one of the first students at Hogwarts, and I was a fly on the wall as the Sorting Hat grew older and as professors came and went. I stood by, silent and nameless, as Tom Riddle framed Rubeus Hagrid and unleashed a wretched beast that even killed a girl. I watched quietly and discreetly as James Potter and Lily Evans fell in love and later died. I subtly observed as Sirius Black was arrested unjustly and as Peter Pettigrew got away. I was on the sidelines as Harry Potter fought evil after evil with his friends by his side, and I personally saw him defeat Voldemort. I was aware of each of his children passing through Hogwarts and excelling in their studies, and I oversaw each as they overcame evils of their own. I have seen countless people die. I never interfered or helped or even offered advice; call me evil if you must. I just stood by on the edge of it all, watching wordlessly.
I have seen and met every Hogwarts Headmaster and explained my situation to each. I have watched generations fade away and family lines die out. I have introduced myself to almost every Minister of Magic and mastered every spell that there is to know. I have battled unknown demons and been to unmarked places, documenting each.
Needless to say, my journals make for an interesting, if not boring read. They are the journals of a third person, a watcher, an observer. I am not a coward; I just allow nature to take her turn. As I said before, you may call me evil. I am not evil, just realistic. No matter how I meddle or intervene, nature will come eventually, doing her realistic work. What will happen must happen.
Historians have quoted my mysterious journals, confused by my being but captivated and intrigued by my knowledge. I am untraceable, a vague absolute. I am a contradiction. I’m not a ghost, nor a dragon. I have only seen the Sorcerer’s Stone. I haven’t tasted unicorn’s blood, or sought out a magical spell that will sustain me through eternity. I am certainly not under the influence of fairy dust.
There is no name for me. I appear and function as a normal witch. My family just goes on forever. I do not recall a time where I was anything but seventeen years old with a twin sister and two older brothers.
I simply cannot die.