Namora Ren was ten years old when she got her acceptance letter to the greatest wizarding school in the world: Hogwarts. The letter came on a rainy day in London. The street that the Ren family presided on was a street named Foxburrow. This street was known for its lively neighbors who usually had bursts of magic. This street was full of the most intelligent wizards and witches who worked for the ministry. A usual day on the street of Foxburrow would be random bursts of magic, objects falling from nowhere, and most commonly an explosion from inside one of the houses. But today, it was quieter than usual. The next door neighbors, The Harrington's (a wizarding family known for their skills in potions and most of the unfortunate explosions) were quite the loud and proud bunch, but on this rainy day, not a peep came from their tall, white mansion-like apartment. The house stood still and silent. In fact, the Harrington' son, Liam Harrington, who was a potioneer of sorts, competed in the Wizarding Schools Potion Championship just a few years ago. It had been posted in the Daily Prophet that Liam Harrington had not completed in the championship, but had won it. The Harrington's had been so proud that day. A volley of fireworks could be seen and heard all up and down the street that day. Mr. And Mrs. Harrington had been so proud that they talked about it almost every day for a week. Soon, however, the Harrington's neighbors avoided them because at every dinner invite, every party, every event the Harrington's would bring up their wonderful son. The Harrington's were a proud family, but like all neighborhoods, there is always a family that acts like they are better than everyone else and the Harrington's were exactly that. They were the most stuck up family on the street.
A few doors down from the Harrington's were the Greyjoy couple. These two were very old, and very odd individuals. The rumor went that old man Greyjoy helped with The British Ministry of Magic founding, helping Ulick Gamp get elected as its first Minister for Magic. But his wife, Mrs. Greyjoy came from Russia. She was a dark arts specialist at the Russian Wizarding school: Koldovstoretz. She never spoke, just stared with her tiny eyes and her thin smirk that gave most people the shivers. Together, the couple experimented with spells, testing them and putting them through various trials. Oftentimes a window could be heard shattering in the middle of the night. Most everyone on the street tended to avoid that house for fear of being hit by a curse. For as it goes, the Greyjoy's had been working on a particular dark arts spell when something went wrong. The neighbors described it as a great explosion that shook all the houses. They said that they saw a green light radiating from the very top window of the house, glowing menacingly. Then, the unexpected: Mr. Greyjoy was turned into a ghost. This story had been known for years by the whole street and it made sense as well. No one ever saw Mr. Greyjoy. He never was seen walking about, collecting the paper, or even in the house. All anyone ever saw was his wife making runs to the market. The Greyjoy's were definitely the creepy neighbors on Foxburrow for they lived in a small dark house with flowers. But these flowers were dark and wilted; with two rows of slimy teeth as sharp as knives. They were enchanted to bark at anyone daring to enter the Greyjoy's yard.
Then, of course, there was the Remington family, the Doddle family, the Hartfire bunch, the Hendrix's, and last of all, was the Ren family. The Ren's were a happy family, the three of them. Alan Ren was well known and liked among wizards. From his studies in magic to his personality to lead and track down evil wizards and witches that used the dark arts and broke wizard laws and rules, Alan was certainly a highly respected auror.
Molly Ren was a bit of a master at transfiguration and charms and wrote in her diaries and journals of spells that she had invented and their uses and affects. She had worked in a section of MACUSA not hardly known or recognized: The Inventing of Magic Department (IMD) as it was known by its very few workers (which was only five).
Alan had been sent to MACUSA on intentions to help the aurors there track down a criminal. While finding his way to The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he had somehow stumbled upon the IMD as a mistake. He meant to be heading towards The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but had found himself in a cold, damp room with five strangers staring oddly at him. He hadn't known how he had gotten there because he was just in a hallway a few seconds ago and now he was in a room as large as a tea-shop. He felt odd standing there with his satchel and suitcase stuffed with papers. The Ministry of Magic was so much more simple than this facility. Alan was about to ask how he had gotten there when a smooth voice spoke: "Hello." It was a woman with stunning black hair and piercing blue eyes that made his heart thump... and that was how they met.
Alan and Molly had a beautiful daughter they named Namora. She had shoulder length black hair and icy blue eyes. She was a bright girl, reading lots of spell books and writing notes down on whatever she thought fascinating. She often indulged herself in reading research papers and studies that Alan brought home from his work. Most of the papers he brought back were cases of potential threats to the wizarding world. Namora couldn't be more fascinated with it. The people of Foxburrow all knew that Namora was a very intelligent, young witch. In fact her very first word was on the day she was born which was most unusual, there was no other record of a baby speaking and forming letters the day they were born. Alan and Molly were exhilarated at this. Surely their daughter would grow up to be prestigious and win many awards. But what they didn't know was that their daughter would help change the future of all wizard-kind, and most possibly, the world...For the moment however, Namora was just a girl who loved to experiment with spells and read the cases her father brought home.
It was a lovely morning in London when the letter came. There had been rain all the night before and the sun brought to light dew-droplets on the grass and slight frost on the petals. The neighborhood was unusually quiet with the Harrington's still gone on vacation. No glass had shattered from the Greyjoy's house, not one of the Hendrix's three children were outside, wreaking havoc, none of the Remington siblings were out protesting for elf rights, no overgrown plants came from the Hartfire household (for they were known to experiment with exotic plants) and no one from the Doddle family had knocked on their neighbors door to ask if they could spare an extra hand to help with whatever they were building. Suddenly there was a scream. It wasn't of pain or terror, but of pure excitement as a little girl in house 901 got a letter that would change her life.
Namora Ren grasped the letter in her hands, bouncing up and down, "I got it, I got it. Mother I actually got it!" Molly Ren, who was a designated "worrier" came rushing into the parlor to find her daughter jumping on the sofa excitedly. Molly rushed over to a small, brown table and grabbed a vase before it shattered to the floor. "Namora Ren, you get off that sofa right now!" She said, waving her finger at her. "Mother, mother, I got it!" Namora giggled and shoved the letter into Moll's hands. "What.." Molly looked at the address and then the seal on the back and put a hand to her mouth in surprise. "I'm home!" Alan called as he stepped through the door, hauling a suitcase with a jacket laying over the top. He had just come back from being gone for two weeks in America on one of his "special cases' he called them.
"Alan, come quick!" Molly yelled. Alan flung the suitcase to the side and raced down stairs into the parlor. "Namora, whatever's the matter, I..." "She got accepted!" Molly said as she hugged her daughter and they jumped excitedly. "Accepted? Into what?" The letter was tossed into his hands and Alan quickly looked over it. He ran up to Namora and swung her through the air. "Ahhhh, my little girl! You did it! You're going to make a fine witch, just like your mother." He said, putting her back down and pulled his wife in for a kiss.
"We're here!" "What is it!" "What's wrong!" Alan, Molly, and Namora, jogged to their front door where it was opened to reveal their neighbors staring at them worriedly. Craig Doddle was there with his hands on his hips wearing a curious expression on his face. All three of the Hendrix children (whose ages ranged from 4 to 8) all leaned on each other as they tried to get a look at what was happening. One of the Remington siblings, Jomaine carried her satchel full of elf rights posters, but stared at the Ren's, her brow furrowed. Then, of course, there were the Hartfire couple with their one daughter, Emilice who was only 7 and-a-half, all wearing glasses and green-stained pajamas.
"Woah, woah, woah, there. It's fine everyone," Alan reassured them with a nod. "Well I heard a scream," said Craig Doddle and looked suspiciously at Namora. "Yeah, I heard it too!" said Mrs. Hartfire who crossed her arms. "Listen, it was..." Alan started, but he was interrupted. "I thought I heard an enchantment," said Craig Doddle. Everyone turned to look at him. "Are you experimenting with spells?" Jomaine asked, furrowing her brows more. "I assure you, we..." "Oh!" exclaimed one of the Hendrix children. It was a little girl, the youngest of the children, by the name of Susie. "You all be workin' with them Greyjoys!" This brought a gasp from everyone there and more looks of concern. "What?" Alan said exasperatingly. "I am so sorry for you," Mrs. Hartfire said, placing a hand on Namora's shoulder sympathetically. "There wasn't an enchantment," Namora said and then the eldest of the Hendrix children said: "It's a curse!" The boy's name was Sammy and he pointed at the Ren's as he said this. "What!?" Alan said again. That was when Molly yelled: "Stop Everyone!" The neighbors fell quiet and Molly took a breath. "No, we are all just fine. There is no enchantment, no cure so you Hendrix's shut it. There is no problem, no need to worry. My daughter just found out that she has been accepted into Hogwarts." There was a sigh and a long "ohhhh". Mr. Hartfire was the first to speak. "This is certainly good news," he said and wrapped his arm around his wife and daughter, smiling. Craig Doddle nodded along, Jomaine smiled at Namora and bent down to say: "Congrats. You are going to love it there." Namora smiled at this as each of the Hendrix children apologized. "we would invite you to breakfast, but..." Mrs. Hartfire started and then said "...we all are very busy." "Oh no trouble at all Mrs. Hartfire..." Alan said, reassuringly. "...I already have something planned." "Oh good, because I didn't want company over my house," Craig Doddle said, his arms crossed. "Well, goodbye then," he said and then everyone else soon followed after him. The Hendrix's each apologizing once again even when Alan said that they were perfectly fine, Jomaine giving them a poster for elf rights, and the Hartfire's waving at them joyfully.
Alan shut the door and sighed. "What a crowd." "Well, we chose to live on Foxburrow," Molly said with a small laugh. Alan rubbed his hands together, his face brightening as he squatted down in front of Namora. "How about a trip to your favorite diner?" Namora smiled widely and grinned: "Oh yes please."
That night, Alan took them all to Namora's favorite diner: The Three Broomsticks. Her mother grabbed a can of black dust called floor powder and each person dug their hands in it, pulling out a handful of the black dust. First went to her father, who smiled as he walked over to the fireplace and said "The Three Broomsticks!". Throwing down the dust, a green flame engulfed him and he disappeared. Then went Namora, who eagerly threw down the dust and yelled "The Three Broomsticks!" and then her mother, who smiled as she tossed the dust and said the words.
The Ren's were a family well known at The Three Broomsticks. Namora's father worked at the ministry and he was constantly going to Hogsmeade to get supplies and watch for suspicious characters. The Three Broomsticks was known to have live bands every once and a while and tonight was one of those nights. A band of Scotlanders tuned their instruments behind red curtains that were drawn open just enough for people to peek in at them when they got the chance to. A woman with flouncy, red hair held a violin and was talking to a man beside her who wore woolen socks that went up to his knees-he had held a bagpipe and cleaned the pipes as he listened to the violinist. Then there was the flutist. He was a stout man with black hair and was quietly preparing for the show, getting lights and equipment set up on a stage that all came from a suitcase on wheels as large as a dresser. He worked his wand this way and that, directing pieces to come together and lights to shine multiple colors at once. Lastly was a vocalist, the singer, the spotlight of the band. He was a rather short man and was the oldest one in the group. He had dark hair with kind eyes. He looked in a mirror, straightening his eyebrows for there were wild little things and combing through his graying hair.
Besides the band, the rest of the tavern looked the same: high ceilings, mirrors behind the bar table, white cloths magically wiping off customers' previous tables. The fireplace burned with white flames, a small collection of antlers above that, and candles burning everywhere. It was a cozy little tavern in all that welcomed Hogwarts students and wizards and witches alike.
"Hey Alan!" the bartender said in a joyful raspy voice, already getting three cups of butterbeer ready for them. Conall Cormag was a kind man if you got to know him and had a beard on each side of his chin. He had menacing eyes and the spirit of a true Scotsman which intimidated most wizards that passed through Hogsmeade. He worked fast serving red currant rum and mulled mead to weary travelers. The place was as welcoming as ever even though most of the wizards smoked odd little decorative pipes. Some as plain as a wizards pipe could be, some with faces, others with skulls and demons etched into the wood, and a few with inscriptions or markings that glowed as they would blow into the pipe. They saw the Hendrix's (a couple that always baked sweets and pies for the neighbors every month) Mrs. Hendrix brought out a few sweets from within her pocket and gave them to Namora with an equally sweet smile and Mr. Hendrix shook hands with Alan and nodded a hello to Namora.
Alan tipped his hat to the Hendrix's and then searched for their usual table which was in the very back of the The Three Broomsticks. Namora smiled as she popped a swirled pink mint with green and blue stripes across it into her mouth. She got an explosion of flavor ranging from blueberry to mint, strawberries to lime. It was like eating a delicious fruit salad in one tiny mint that lasted quite long. As they passed tables full of Hogwarts students, Namora heard some of the conversation. "They're supposed to be getting a second level up here soon." "I heard it's going to be an inn and a pub." "I wonder when that will happen."
Namora caught her father's hand and said "Guess what father?" Alan's eyes twinkled, "What is it darling?" he said as they came to their usual table. "A few kids said that this place is going to be turned into an inn?!" "That's right it is!" said Conall as he slipped by their table, delivering two firewhiskeys to a group of seventh year Slytherins from Hogwarts. She hopped excitedly in her seat with a wide smile and bright eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to Hogwarts!" "We're so proud of you honey," her mother said looking thoughtfully at Alan then back at her. "Well I suppose we're going to be making another trip again for your supplies in Diagon Alley," he said, looking at the list included in the letter. "Lots of supplies...pewter cauldron, glass or crystal phials, telescope, one wand..." "Wand!" Namora said aloud, daydreaming about what it would be.
"What wand do you have father?" Alan scratched his head as he pulled off his hat and looked at her then dug out his wand from his coat. It was a stunning white with silver wrapping around the bottom and up to the top. "This...my dear is an aspen wand. It is most useful for charm work Namora." "Wow," she said, taking it into her hands and running her fingers along the intricate designs. "Maybe I'll get the same wand as you father." Alan chuckled, "The wand chooses its owner Namora, you may be surprised at what you get." She had an urge to wave the wand around and blurt out spells. But going through it in her mind, it probably wouldn't end well. Namora looked to her mother, "What about your wand?" she said as she put her father's wand back on the table gently. Eleanora gave her a thin-lipped smile, but there was obvious hesitation and a feeling of awkwardness.
Conall came with their tray of butterbeers and set four on the table. Alan pulled out his coin bag reaching for some galleons. "It's on the house", the bartender said and gave them a crooked smile then left. "How nice," her mother said, trying to change the subject. She took her butterbeer and immediately started to drink it. "Wait a minute, who's the fourth cup for? There's only three of us." Namora said and looked about the tavern. "That's the surprise my dear," Alan said and winked.
Namora knew her mother had secrets and knew that she was sensitive when it came to sharing about her past. Her father had told her once about her mother. He said that she had a rough childhood but did tell her that she was excellent at charms and transfiguration and had worked for the ministry as a spell inventor of sorts. What didn't make sense was that her mother was good at charms and especially transfiguration. How could she have had a bad childhood? Namora often asked herself this, but never could answer it. Even her father didn't know everything. He just loved her the way she was and that was good enough for him. It was good enough for everyone. It was enough for Namora.
Namora gulped down her drink, the taste wonderful and bubbly in her mouth. "Can you tell me who's coming yet? Is it Grandmother? Or a friend from the ministry? Or, or is it...?" "Now hold on there, Alan said, he is almost here." "Oh! Another hint, maybe it's..." the tavern door swung open suddenly and quite loudly. In walked a man with a trench coat and a bright blue scarf wrapped around his neck. A blizzard of snow covered him from head to toe and made small piles as he took a few steps forward. He had a suitcase in his hand and a wand in the other.
Conall's fingers tapped on his wand, the musicians stood at a standstill, holding equipment, and the customers blew smoke and whispered about the strange fellow.
All eyes were on him as he took off his coat and scarf and hung it up on a coat hanger which bowed to him and spinned, showing off a variety of hats and coats. Turning towards them, a smile crept onto Namora's face. "Uncle Alias!" Namora yelled and raced towards him, giving him a hug. The whole tavern seemed to relax and people resumed with what they were doing. Conall exhaled and continued to wipe down the counter and help the customers order.
"Where did you go this time uncle? Namora said, bouncing on her toes as they walked past tables and booths full of wizards who smiled at her or nodded a hello. "Why don't I tell you the story," he said both heartily and mischievously as he took a seat at the Ren's table."Alias" Alan said, giving his brother a hug as he was squeezed in by Namora. "Alan," Alias said, scruffing up his younger brother's hair. "Come on uncle, where did you travel to this time!" Namora said, tugging on his arm. "Now hold on, hold on!" he said, grabbing the mug and draining it in a few gulps.
A few wizards who caught this lifted their brows and others gawked at how fast the man had gulped down the drink. Conall almost tipped his tray and ran into a table as he stared at Alias and apologized promptly to three men for almost doing so. Alias turned towards her. "I heard that a special girl is going off to Hogwarts." Namora blushed as her uncle congratulated her. "I mean Hogwarts! At this age! It's just spectacular you know." Alan and Eleanora smiled at this and Alan ordered another round of butterbeer. Alias gulped down the second one just as fast as the first and a loud burp came from his mouth that made everyone laugh.
"And now, I can show you what I..." "Ladies and Gentlemen, would you all give a warm welcome to The Brigadoon Celts!" "Finally." Alan said and stretched back into the chair. Alias raised his eyebrows, but clapped along with everyone else in the tavern as blue curtains were drawn back and four figures appeared on stage. The older man with the graying hair stepped up. I'd like te' thank ye' all fer' comin' and I'd like te' introduce to ye' The Brigadoon Celts. Over 'ere we have Zadia on the violin, Samuel playing the bagpipes, and Perevell playing the flute. I'm Wylyen, I'll be singing for ye' tonight. Oh, and enjoy the show."
Namora smiled wide. It was all so exciting. Hogwarts, The Three Broomsticks, her uncle, and a show! This was the best night of her life! The lights in the tavern dimmed and green, red, and blue lights appeared on the band in large circles. Zadia tapped her foot four times before beginning a long, beautiful tune on the violin that soothed the customers and put them in a type of trance. She played the instrument beautifully and moved with every string she played. The bagpipes started in at a steady sound and then the flute. It was all so captivating. Then Wylyen began to sing:
"In the rolling hills of Scotland,
A long time ago
In a village afar.
A curse fell upon the Highlands.
It was to remain invisible and forever, they must stay.
Oh Brigadoon, the village of the cursed
Oh Brigadoon, when will it be broke?
Oh Brigadoon, the day will come
When all will be set right.
So it came to pass one day,
That a boy traveled out.
The boy had left the cursed place.
The place where he had vowed to stay
And the curse was broken
But the village was forever gone.
The boy had left alone,
The boy was now alone.
Oh Brigadoon the village of the cursed
Oh Brigadoon the curse was broke
Oh Brigadoon when will you return so that all will be right?
The boy had left alone,
The boy was now alone.
Na, na,na, naaaaaaa
Na, na,na, naaaaaaa
The boy will keep on searchin'
The boy will keep on wanderin'
The boy will find a way.
Oh the day, oh the day,
When Brigadoon returns..."
Then the bagpipe played a little longer than all the other instruments and the stage went dark. Wizards clapped and whistled and some even wiped away a tear or two. Alias and Alan seemed to be apart of those few. They clasped each other's hands and had tears in their eyes as they stood to clap while Namora and Eleanora were unfazed. Namora didn't really understand what had brought her father and her uncle to tears. The song was sad, but beautiful, and it ended well. The boy would find away to make his village re-appear.
It felt like a long moment before the house lights came back on and they took a bow before starting again, this time it was a more joyous tune that made some dance and tap their feet.
"Away, away we must be goin'
Away, away indeed.
We travel wide, we travel far
So away, away we must be goin'
For now though
We stay where we are.
We stay and sing
til the break o' dawn.
We sing for love,
We sing for grace,
So we all say at last:
Away, away we must be goin'
Away, away indeed.
We travel wide, we travel far
So away, away we must be goin'
Away.....we must be goin!"
More whistles and cheers came along with a few mini fireworks shooting from a wand held by a thin-structured man who had tied his hair into a bun and wore a navy blue trench coat. Namora smiled, amazed by the bursting colors of green, blue, purple, and red exploding in the air. Everyone seemed to forget the sorrowful song they had sung and were now happy and smiling.
Lifting his brown suitcase on the table, he unclipped the clasps and it opened with a creak. He stuffed his hand in through a pile of black robes and pulled out a journal. The title read, "A Study of Ancient Artifacts: By Alias Ren". He flipped through the pages until he got to one with a white string, marking the page.
He let Namora read his discoveries and look at the pictures as he told the story. "...There I was, running in the snow, wolves chasing after me. I could see the frozen well just a hundred meters in front of me. But the wolves were on to me, one snapped at my arm. Luckily he just got a patch of me' coat. I surely thought, this was the end, no more butterbeer," he said with a jolly laugh. "Wham!" he suddenly said, making her mother jump and a bit of butterbeer splash on the table.. "I smacked right into the well. That's when I got ported back to London And then... I went here, for a drink."
"That's a...darling story,"Her mother said with a slight smile, wiping the butterbeer with a napkin. "So that's where all the snow came from," Alan said laughing. "Wow!" Namora said, her eyes full of amazement and wonder. "Well, we best get our rest. We are coming here tomorrow to get her school supplies," Alan said, rising to his feet. "Well hold on now, I got a little something," Alias said reaching into his suitcase again. He pulled out a sliver scarf and placed it into the eager hands of Namora.It had gold spirals woven into the fabric and was longer than her arms span. "I love it!" Namora said putting it around her neck.
~
Namora wouldn't leave the scarf at home and wrapped it around her neck during the trip to Diagon Alley. She loved all of the colours and the magnificent shops. In one window there was an odd animal in a cage. It had fur all over and yellow, beady eyes that stared at her. She gulped and hurried on to the next shop.
The most interesting store though was on Knockturn Alley. Walking down the broke, cobblestone street gave Namora chills. All the wizards and witches staring at her, but mostly her father. Some scowled while others narrowed their eyes dangerously. Namora clung to her father's hand, afraid that if she let go, someone would surely take her.
Finally they walked into a shop. Namora didn't like it, but many things caught her eye. It was dusty in the shop and an older man sat hunched over at the counter. Walking down the aisles, she saw floating things in glass jars such as eyeballs and fingers. But what caught her attention was a small creature. Walking towards the cage she saw that it was a pocket dragon. It spit tiny, fiery flames and flew around the cage, twirling through the air.
"Come Namora," Alan said sternly, gesturing for her to come to the counter. They ended up purchasing some maps for her father's job at the ministry. Namora didn't know exactly what he did, but she knew that he worked somewhere in the department of mysteries. Perhaps she would one day work by his side, in the Department of Mysteries. Though soon she would get a chance to see what he really did. In a few days it would be a train ride to Hogwarts then a week later he would take her to the Ministry of Magic. He promised her that he would take her and he never broke a promise. He would always say to Namora "A Ren is loyal and true to their word."They both walked out of the shop very much happily.
Next they went to Flourish and Blotts to gather her books. The tiny book shop was crowded with wizards and it was quite hot, especially for the winter. Lots of former Hogwarts students roamed about and rushed around with a stack of books. When Alan and Namora managed to squeeze out of there with the books, they were both sweating, their faces blushing red, beads of sweat on their foreheads. Namora was happy to feel the cool air against her skin and welcomed the light droplets of rain with open arms. Alan took off his hat and rubbed his head. He pulled out his wand and swished it around himself. His face returned to a normal color and his usual smile returned to his face. He held out his wand for Namora, but she was already off. She had dropped her books beside her father and rain out into the rainy street of Diagon Alley.
The started light and the adults hid under cover, whether it be in a shop, under a protective shield, or holding an umbrella. Other young children ran out into the street. On child still had his fitting robes on from Madam Malkins. Namora and a few others laughed as Malkin tried to chase the boy who was clearly faster than her. The boy in the fitting robes began a game of prance and dance and other children joined in until there were two large circles of children. Namora joined in and was hand in hand with another little girl about her age. The children danced around in the circle until Madam Malkin came barging in , reaching towards the boy as he ran straight through the two circles and into the middle. This is when the children spun around and then dispersed among the street., spreading out.
Alan watched from afar, sitting on a bench with a smile on his face. Namora ran along the street and bumped into a boy that had green and black robes on. They both fell to their bottoms and Namora giggled. The boy had a harsh look on his face at first but, he laughed as he wiped the mud off his hands and helped the girl up. The boy then jogged over to his father who was leaning against a pillar with round, black glasses that were tinted in a way that not even a seer could see the man's future.
A group of girls and boys ran around, tagging each other while older students played gobstones and wizards chess, accepting the challenge in the rain happily. "Hey," said someone behind Namora. Turning, she saw a tall girl with a devious look on her face.. She had blond hair with pink ribbons in it and a smirk upon her face as she tossed her hair and batted her eyelashes at boys passing by. "Why are you playing in this muck?" Before Namora could answer she yelled, "Oh that's right, you must be a nearly a witch, a half-blood!" The girl said, nudging Namora in the ribs and then she turned away and flipped her hair. Her American accent drifted through the air and Namora frowned, looking at the girl skipping away, not a splotch of mud on her puffy golden-beige dress and her corn-blonde hair. A half-blood? That is what she called Namora, but that couldn't be true, Namora's father was a wizard and her mother was a witch...right? It stuck in her mind suffocating her happy memories and turning everything a cloudy gray.
She just stood there, standing in the rain and closed her eyes. She traveled to a place that she called the Perception Palace, it was sort of like a mind palace, but it held a lot more than just memories. In her Perception Palace, she had stored away the important knowledge in her life, which was, to her, absolutely everything. However as she would get older, her mind would change as all children's minds do as they get older. She would forget certain things that she would have certainly considered important. Her life at Hogwarts and beyond would forever alter her mind...Not to worry about now though. Now Namora thought of something.
A horrible, crazy idea formed in her mind. The ideas coming together like a spiderweb, piece by piece, strand by strand, soon the web would be connected and she would have her chance. Her eyes darted, making sure no one saw her as she scooped up a handful of mud and as she carefully planned out, hiding behind a pillar and hurdling the mucky ball directly at the girl's snobby American face.
Just as she planned, the reaction, the chaos, the innocent, it all came in at once. It hit her splat in her face. The girl stumbled and and screamed quite a shrill voice, alerting a good part of the crowds of wizards. The girl turned wildly in all directions, looking for the offender. Her friends and admirers rushed to her aid as they escorted the mad girl inside a sweets shop.
Namora sent back to splashing in the puddles, rejoicing in her victory. And as other children gathered around her, she couldn't help but feel that they too, were praising her victory. Her victory though was short lived as her father came out onto the street. "Namora!" She turned to see him marching into the street and the once heavy rain started to drizzle in fear. "Come here, Now!" From inside a shop, the American girl laughed at this and smirked. Her friends joined along with her.
Namora wiped her muddy fingers on her pants and walked solemnly towards him,. "Father.." He looked down at her, disappointed and shook his head. The boy with the green robes shook his head too, but it was different from when her father did it, the boy seemed saddened at the sight. Alan took her by the wrist and into a shop. The shop was full of small tables and booths filled with wizards and witches. A group of students wearing red robes with a patch embroidered with a lion on it had a large bowl full of a ice cream in a variety of flavors. She felt quite embarrassed at the whole situation. She usually didn't anger her father much, but she knew that when she did, it was not a pretty sight.
He guided his daughter to sit down at on of the booths and went away to get something at the counter. Namora just wanted to hide away from the world at the moment. She started to go through multiple scenarios of what might happen... Alan came back with a scowl on his face. He had ordered himself a cup of tea and he just stared at Namora. He finally said "Namora, I will not be taking you with me next week." Namora's eyes widened, "But father?!" "Not one word missy!"...
Namora questioned her scenario. Would her father ever call her missy? She shook her head slightly, thinking of another scenario... Alan came to sit by her, it seems that he wasn't much hungry. He too, took off two hat and played with it, unsure what to say. "I'M so disappointed in you Namora... You should have known better... Perhaps you shouldn't go to Hogwarts at'tall...
"Namora?" She fell out of her trance and all her mind focused on her father. He stood by the booth holding two bowls of brickeled-spotted ice-cream. Namora couldn't understand for a moment (after all, she was only nine). He served one bowl in front of her and one bowl where he would sit. Namora reached for her spoon slowly, as if expecting him to oblige, but nothing of the sort happened. She even got a whole spoonful into her mouth and her father still hadn't said a word.
Finally he opened his mouth to say something. Namora finally thought, this is it, this is my punishment, here it comes. Alan coughed and then continued to put another spoonful into his mouth. For the longest time, the two just ate there brickeled-spotted ice-cream, there were no words exchanged or anything of the sort. Alan coughed again, "Namora...what you did back there in the street was not witch-like of you...but it was an act that had a purpose and I don't think you were wrong to do it..." He chuckled here, thinking to himself "..I might have perhaps done the same thing." Namora exhaled a huge breath that she had been holding in and smiled at her father. "Really?" "Yes, maybe at one point in my life." "Aren't you mad at me though?" "Namora, I am not mad, I will always be on your side, I will always be there for you." Namora smiled and shoved more ice-cream into her mouth. Her father did the same and the two enjoyed their ice-cream.
~
Before long the rain drizzled down to a trickle and the streets were once again filled with witches and wizards, hustling around to gather ingredients or supplies, or even a cup of butterbeer. Alan brought Namora to one last shop. It was painted a fresh coat of green and had gold spirals up and down the front door. In the display window, there large and small boxes. But all of them were small in width and as the door opened the smell of pine trees engulfed them.
The shop was not small nor large, it was the perfect size. There were a lot of wizards in the shop, but it was hot. It was quite cool in there. There seemed to be a breeze in the shop. Looking up in wonder at the ceiling, she saw snow flying through the air, making little, magical swirls as it made its way around the shop. The center of attention though was a middle-aged man. "That's Ollivander," Alan whispered down to Namora with a smile on his face. "Ollivander!" Alan called. The man squinted and took his glasses off. "Alan Ren. Ah, my longtime friend," he said, hugging him and shaking his hand. "How is the ministry." "Well, it's been quite the adventure. Do you remember Hannah? Hannah Weasel, well, turns out that she is my desk partner!" "Ahh ha ha ha ha, you could never quite escape her, could you?" Ollivander laughed. Looking down he spotted Namora. "My, you have a little daughter," Ollivander said, squatting down to her height. He smiled and it was warm and joyful, like pudding.
Slapping Alan on the arm he exclaimed, "She looks a lot like you...besides her mother's hair! Black as the night I say!" Alan smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder proudly. "Ding!" A bell rung at the counter. A witch and her son stood there with a box. "Oh, one minute, please... take a look around!" He said to Namora and winked. Namora giggled and took Alan's hand and lead him down an aisle.
"Which one should I grab father?" "Taking into consideration what mine own is and your mother's..." He reached up and grabbed a dark green box and gave it to Namora. "Try it." Namora nervously took the wand out and waved it in the air. A ball of fire was sent spewing out of the wand, Ollivander ducked as it burnt the wall behind him, leaving a burnt circle engraved into the green walls. "Oh my," Ollivander said, abandoning his waiting customers. He snatched the wand, placed it back in the box, and shyly smiled at the staring customers, waving them to go back to their shopping. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Namora started. "Quite alright my dear, it only happens every..." Ollivander said disappearing down another aisle. Alan and Namora followed him to the next aisle and saw him rummaging through the boxes, mumbling to himself.
"Ah ha!" Ollivander exclaimed, making both Alan and Namora jump. Alan laughed slightly and walked over to where Ollivander stood. He opened the box, smiling to himself and popped it into Namora's hand anxiously, waiting to see the reaction. Namora was almost scared to do it and looked Alan in the eyes. He shrugged and gave her a reassuring thumbs up.
Namora swished the wand through the air. Disappointed that nothing happened she started to bring the wand back to Ollivander when she noticed the two men staring at her. "What is it father?" Namora said, worried that another fireball had erupted from the wand. " I haven't seen this kind of reaction before." Looking above her head, she saw a blue and mystical fog. But it formed into the shape of fire, a sort of blue fire.
Namora stared in awe at the blue fire as it danced around her head and dripped down her body like a waterfall. There was a blue glaze over her eyes, but only for a second then the fire suddenly disintegrated. Alan ran to Namora, brushing his hands over her head and shoulders. "Well that was certainly interesting," Ollivander said, his eyebrows raised. "I'll be taking that," Ollivander said, taking the wand and gently placing it back in the box. "My dear, are you all right?!"
"Did you see me father? I was on fire!" Namora said excitedly, following Ollivander to the counter. "Yes," he said unsure, rubbing his sweaty forehead and surprised by her reaction. He followed her nonetheless to the counter and smiled at some of the gawking children. He huffed as he leaned against the counter. Namora stood, bouncing on her toes. "Have a lovely day Alan!" Ollivander called as Namora happily skipped out with her wand box. Ollivander held onto Alan's arm and got a serious look in his once joyful eyes. "This is a very unusual wand, very much power with Phoenix feather core, danger and hardship may come to your daughter..." Alan gulped, rubbed his forehead in frustration then looked at Namora. "What, ah what kind of wand choose her?" Ollivander answered quite grimly, "Blackthorn." Alan looked back at him before nodding and heading out to join his daughter.
~
September 1st had finally come. It was a bright and beautiful day as Namora gathered her things in a trunk for Hogwarts. In less than two hours, she would be on a train, going to the most renowned wizarding school, and most definitely learning magic. Running out into the living room, she met her father and mother. She smiled happily as Alan carried her trunk to the fireplace and yelled as mother throw the dust down, "Platform nine and three-quarters!" Alan disappeared and Namora tugged on her mother's robes, directing her to the fireplace as she grabbed her wand off of the table. She threw the dust down and called out...
Namora coughed and shook off the leftover dust. "Whooort!" The whistle from the train blowed. Namora's eyes widened, marveling at the train. It was painted a sleek red and in gold-lettering said "HOGWARTS EXPRESS". A line of students were already gathering at the doors and Namora bounced on her toes. It was a cheery sight, parents waving off their children, an owl hooting in pleasure as it's owner fed it crumbs, and the conversation of students. She took the sight and sounds in before turning to face her mother and father.
"Goodbye mother, father." Namora said, hugging them both. Her mother waved as Alan loaded her trunk up on the train. "You got your scarf?" He asked . Namora pulled the silver scarf out of her coat to show him. Smiling, he hugged her a second time. "Are you sure you want to take that wand, you can always borrow me or..." "Father..." Namora complained "...My wand is perfectly lovely." She kissed him on the cheek and then did the same to her mother. Namora waved once more before jogging to the growing line of students. Her mother nudged Alan in the arm and gave him a look. Alan shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his arm, "Darling please, at least I tried!" "Do the thing for her Alan...".
Alan pulled out his wand and waving it through the air, fireworks erupted from it and danced in the air. Wizards gasped and clapped and children yearned to touch the colorful sparks. Namora smilied, remembering the events of Diagon Alley suddenly. The fire that was blue, some sort of blue fire she supposed. When the fireworks dissipated and the crowds dispersed, Namora turned to go.
The train gave another whistle and the conductor yelled a sprite call, students fled onto the train. Each student gave a ticket to the conductor before entering and she saw that some had words inscribed into them. When it was her turn the conductor looked confused as she handed up her ticket. "Excuse me, but are you supposed to be on this train miss?" "Excuse me sir, but I am supposed to be on this train. Would you like me to get my father? He works for the ministry. Let me just call him, fath..." "No, no, it's quite fine, he took her ticket and smiled her on. She turned and winked at her father. He winked back and waved her on. Namora huffed and laughed as she skipped up the steps and hopped onto the train.
Red carpets lined the walkways as students gathered into compartments with friends. Namora made her way to the single seats and towards the front of the train. There were flying paper airplanes and wooden toys being played with. She sat down in an empty seat and looked out the window. She could see her parents! She waved at them as her mother blew kisses and her father waved.
A boy suddenly sat down by her. Namora turned to see him. "Mind if I sit here?" "Not at all," she said, smiling, "I'm Namora". "Albus," the boy said, shaking her hand. "You're not a muggle are you!" "Hey! Half-blood!" A girl's voice said from behind them. "Oh no." There was a tugging at her neck and the scarf that her uncle had given to her was gone. "You little.." Namora said, climbing over Albus, stumbling onto the walkway, and chasing after the American girl."Hey!" Albus said, running after them both. "Bet you can't catch me," the girl's voice echoed down the train.
Albus ran after the strange girl because he was quite interested in what the quarrel was about more then who was involved in the quarrel. He ran past older students who stuck there heads out of their compartments, younger students who gasped and yelled, and the trolley lady who through a bowl of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans at him. He wiggled as the beans fell down his sweater and down his back. A boy suddenly stepped out in front of him and Albus fell to the floor, grimacing, realizing that he was sitting on jellybeans.
"Would you like a hand up?" "Sure, sure..." Albus said, reaching for his hand. He stood and jiggled the rest of the beans out of his pant leg and looked up to thank the boy. He jumped slightly and stood back, realizing that the boy was...peculiar. The boy was short and a bit overweight, but what was really peculiar was that the boy's skin was a greenish hue and he pock-markage on his skin. The boy didn't shy away or anything. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to.." Albus started. "Its all right," the boy said in a slow voice, but also disappointed. "My name is Albus Dumbledore and as long as your not a muggle, we can be friends," he said and chuckled. "Elphias Doge...Pureblood." "What ah, happened to..?" "Dragon Pox mate," Elphias said and looked at his green hands. "Well that is wonderful that we can be friends...but ah, at the moment I'm chasing a rather strange girl. Will I see you at the ceremony?" The boy nodded and smiled, making the pocks mark's bulge on his face, but Albus didn't mind and he waved to the boy whose name was Elphias, and ran down the train halls.
The chase went down to the farthest cart on the train where there was neatly stacked piles of trunks and cases. Namora pulled open the door and saw no one. Just suitcases and trunks and bags and a few pillow cases filled with clothes and robes. She turned, wondering where the blond-haired girl could have gone. She couldn't have just disappeared, could she? Could American girls do that? Could they disappear on cue. Moments later, Albus barged through the door and tumbled into Namora, making both of them fall. "Can you move off of.." Namora started when Albus jumped up suddenly and range other direction. "Hey!" she yelled as he opened the back door and wind flooded the cart, making robes and socks fly all around her in a tornado of clothes.
Her eyes widened as she saw the girl and Albus fighting over the scarf. What in Merlin's beard! That was her scarf! She picked herself up and rushed towards the door when she felt the force of a boulder hit her chest as the girl, Albus and another girl hit her in the chest and they were sent flying back into a stack of trunks. Robes flew out the door along with a few pillowcase bags, but the door slammed shut with the wind roaring loudly as they all lay in a heap. "Ugh," the girl exclaimed, moving a dark wood trunk off of herself and she dusted herself off and ran her hands through her frizzled hair. Namora didn't say a word, the wind was knocked out of her and she was, frankly, out of breath. All she could manage was a feeble cough as a boy pushed himself up.
"Let's go Vanessa," the blond-haired girl said, hands on her hips. "Yeah, you're right Piper, these two are dirty little rats," Vanessa said, crossing her arms. "I didn't even like that old piece of scrap," Piper said to Namora then smirked like nothing had happened and walked away. "She's not even old enough to go to Hogwarts anyways.." She heard Piper say. Namora sat up, her face blushing red, tears welling in her eyes. Albus made a weird face and and walked towards the back door again. "It's gone, it's truly gone " she said, defeated and let out a sob for her scarf was gone and her ankle had been crushed by three bodies and a trunk full of what she assumed was either a very heavy robe or quidditch supplies.
She hated that the boy was still standing there. She wiped her eyes and looked at him to yell him to leave, but he did something unexpected. From his pocket, he withdrew a long silvery thing. Her scarf! She stood and snatched it away from him and spinned through the air, smiling gleefully. "It was quite easy to get", he said shrugging. Namora hugged him and he smiled and wrapped the scared two extra times around her neck, for safety of course.
"So how old are you?" Albus said as they walked back towards the front of the train. "Nine." "Wow, I mean that's uh..." A familiar face popped out from a compartment. Albus grinned, "Elphias!" Namora stayed back as she look the boy up and down. He was clearly the victim of a had came of the Dragon Pox. "Is this the girl?" Elphias said coming up to her and families a crooked smile that made Namora feel uncomfortable. "I got a compartment all to myself!" He said, astonished. Namora raised her eyebrows as she watched the two boys start to talk or Quidditch. She looked back at the halfway, better to just stick with someone she already knew.
"Oh Elphias..." He said, gesturing for Namora to join them. "...This is Namora, the youngest witch to go to Hogwarts!" Elphias tilted his head, "Really...why that is why you looked so little." She smiled a small smile then sat by the window and watched as the two boys talked about Houses and Professors, and spells. She looked out the window, a big castle in the distance. She gasped and so did other children on the train. She grasped her scarf and her eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. Her first year at Hogwarts was just about to begin.