Privacy is No Longer An Option There were times when I used wonder what it would be like if Muggles and wizards lived peacefully amongst one another. There would be no war, no prejudice, and no fear. Wizard, Muggle, and Squib alike would greet each other on the streets, their differences a simple subject of small talk. Muggles would conduct their life as if the man with the magical eye was just another neighbor, as Wizards would just accept that Muggles must talk through a hand-held device for communication. But then I remembered reality, and that life was not as perfect as that. There is prejudice, and there is fear. For we all are humans, and human fear and dislike what they do not understand. Wizards scoff upon that little box Muggles spend most of their day vegetating in front of, and they make a face concerning our mode of fireplace-related transportation. Of course, it wasn't always like this. Long ago, Muggles didn't know there was such a thing as Exploding Snap. They didn't know what lacewing and mandrake root made when you boil it under a full moon. The most exciting thing a book of theirs has ever done was expand their imagination, whereas ours could literally eat you. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but I took comfort in the fact that Muggles knew nothing about our world. It made me sleep just a tad bit easier knowing I wouldn't have to worry over whether or not some Muggle mob would come and burn my house down. Even if they could be stopped before they'd actually get anywhere (we do have charms for that sort of thing), the fact would still remain that Muggles want to do us harm. There is enough horrors in our own world, to have to worry about their kind. People might tell me I'm overreacting, that I'm just being paranoid. Nothing's happened, and Muggles have known for years now. That doesn't mean it won't. I suppose there's a part of me that feels somewhat exposed. Like that little part of me that I felt made me special is now under the eye of everyone, and suddenly I don't feel that special anymore. The concept of 'privacy' is not a foreign one to me, and with each new book, each new movie and merchandise, I feel my privacy wither into non-existence. They know my name and analyzed my behavior. They've seen my past and my most painful of memories. I am not a celebrity. I did not ask to be put under the public's microscope. I did not want to be studied. Yet here I am. Muggles have made 'shrines' for me. Children copy my attitude and grown men dress up like me. Somehow, flattery is the last thing on my mind. |