My foster niece Amber (more like an older sister) got into witchcraft first. She loved shows like Buffy and Practical Magic and The Craft.
And I loved Harry Potter.
The old argument of kids reading Harry Potter one day, becoming heathen pagans the next? Well, there’s a point to it but perhaps an exaggerated one.
Witchcraft promised things I wanted but had no control of getting. I wanted a lot of things but a foster kid on $6 a week allowance wasn’t going to get them.
Amber had a book of spells. “Remember, if you curse someone it comes back twice as bad to the caster,” she warned, before lending me the legend of Merlin.
The first spell I cast was at my friend Joel’s. It was to change the colour of my eyes. I combined ingredients and imagined my eyes green.
Watching the mirror I would imagine the green was slowly changing from the centre.
The second casting was a love spell on a girl I had a crush on in Year 6. I stuck a nail through two pieces of garlic while muttering an incantation, and left them in a jar on my dresser. As much as I mooned after that girl for ages, and even though I eventually got her to let me kiss her on the cheek, it didn’t replace her disdain.
Once Amber and I crossed our legs in her caravan praying with her magic wand surrounded by lit tea tree candles. I think it was a spell for the girl I had a crush on to appear horny and naked in my bedroom.
I was 11. But man I wanted to be with a horny naked girl.
*featured image from @official_hagrid twitter.