A week had passed since the funeral of her grandparents, and the Sallow estate felt emptier than ever. Anne, lying in her plush bed adorned with silken sheets, was deep in a restless nap. In her dreams, a grotesque monster—a horrifying amalgamation of various animals and beasts—chased her relentlessly. The creature's body was a twisted fusion of reptilian scales, matted fur, and skeletal wings. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its mouth was filled with rows of sharp, mismatched teeth. The landscape around her shifted chaotically: dark, tangled forests morphed into desolate deserts, which in turn gave way to stormy seas. It was as if the nightmare had no end, each setting more forbidding than the last.
Anne's heart pounded as she ran, the monster's guttural roars echoing in her ears. The ground beneath her feet crumbled, and the sky above seemed to crack, letting in streaks of harsh, white light that blinded her momentarily. Just as the creature's claws reached out to grasp her, she woke up with a start, drenched in sweat.
Perry, her loyal house elf, gently shook her awake. "Miss Anne, it's time for your afternoon classes," he said in his high-pitched, yet soothing voice.
Anne sat up, her breathing still heavy from the nightmare. "Thank you, Perry. I'll be down shortly."
She freshened up quickly, splashing cold water on her face to shake off the remnants of her dream, and made her way to her ancient runes tutor. The study where her lessons took place was lined with ancient tomes and scrolls, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and ink.
Her tutor, Professor Eldric Runehart, was an elderly wizard with a long white beard and twinkling eyes. He greeted her warmly. "Good afternoon, Anne. Are you ready for your test today?"
Anne nodded, determined to focus despite her lingering unease. Today's lesson involved the combination of creature parts and their symbolic and numerical meanings. Professor Runehart placed several jars on the table, each containing preserved parts of various magical creatures—a dragon's claw, a unicorn's horn, and a phoenix feather, among others.
"Each of these parts has a unique significance in runic magic," Professor Runehart explained. "Your task is to identify their symbolic meanings and how they influence the runes."
Anne excelled, her natural brilliance shining through as she answered each question with ease. She explained the dragon's claw represented strength and protection, the unicorn's horn symbolized purity and healing, and the phoenix feather stood for rebirth and resilience. Her tutor smiled warmly, impressed by her knowledge.
The next set of questions involved her identifying different creatures and their numeric translation. Anne thought it was too generic. The demiguise represent the number 0 due to its invisibility and the triple headed runespoor epresented the number 3. But runes is the language of the old and certainly symbols such as these hold traditional meanings.
"Excellent work, Anne," he praised. "Now, I want you to create special ritual runes, just as I've taught you. Remember, precision is key."
Anne's fingers moved deftly as she inscribed the runes on parchment, her focus unwavering. The runes glowed faintly, a testament to her skill. Professor Runehart watched with admiration. Anne was a prodigy, and he adored her, often teaching her materials he wouldn't dare share with any other student. Though he didn't teach her Blood Runes, Ritual Runes were still powerful tools of the magical society not spoken about easily by the public. In fact due to the integration of muggle worldd in magick society many tools of old magic are now on the verge of dissapearance. Anyways there was a secret hope in his heart that she might become his apprentice one day.
After her classes, Anne had a lonely dinner, the large dining hall feeling cavernous without her grandparents. Later, she retreated to her late grandfather's former study, now her own. The room was filled with the scent of old books and polished wood. She reviewed the family business documents spread across the grand oak desk. The Sallow family was among the world's top textile giants in the Muggle world, a foresight of her grandmother, Phoebe, who had invested heavily in the industry nearly a century ago.
Phoebe's vision had led to a vast empire that produced a wide range of textiles. The business spanned multiple sectors: high-quality everyday wear, luxurious fabrics like Acromantula silk for the elite, and enchanted dragon-hide armors for protection. Each product line was meticulously crafted, integrating both magical and non-magical processes. The manufacturing involved enchanted looms that wove spells into the very fabric, providing durability, resistance to magical attacks, and various other enhancements tailored to the needs of their clients. This integration of magic into textile production was a closely guarded secret, known only to the Sallow family and a select few trusted employees.
Their influence had now expanded into the magical world, dominating the markets of Europe and Asia. Anne, despite her young age, had a sharp mind for business, overseeing operations and ensuring that the legacy of the Sallow family continued to thrive.
After completing her duties as the master of the family, Anne picked up her grandmother's journal, reading about Phoebe's adventures during her fifth year at Hogwarts. Anne was particularly interested in Phoebe's trials involving ancient magic, although her grandmother had been intentionally vague in her descriptions. Phoebe wanted Anne to be worthy of the magic, encouraging her to solve the trials on her own. Anne was also intrigued by her grandmother's magical beasts, rescued from poachers with her friend Poppy Sweeting, and now living in magical vivariums—spatial marvels where time passed ten times slower than in the outside world. These vivariums were hidden, accessible only through trials that Anne had to pass.
Anne in her last life was a huge potterhead but could not play the Hogwarts Legacy game due to high purchase cost. Now she regrets it every night. "If I had known I would reincarnate as the descendent of the player I would have crammed all the knowledge I could have about the game, the quests, the trials and it's plot in my head" She muses while lying in her satin sheets.
But she knew there is no crying about something that already happened. Anne was an optimistic person and she knew her hardwork and resilience will pay off one day.
Fantasizing about the beasts and mentally reviewing her knowledge of ancient magic, Anne drifted off to sleep. That night, she dreamed of majestic Graphorns and a proud Phoenix playing together, their forms glowing with a serene, otherworldly light.
The next day, Anne decided to visit Diagon Alley to settle her monthly accounts at Gringotts Bank and check on her investments in the magical market.
Directly flooing to the alley Anne came out of the emerald green flames while casting a wandless and wordlesss scourgify to clean her body and robes of any soot.
Due to it being early September the Diagon Alley was bustling with witches and wizards, shops filled with magical items lining the cobblestone street.
The atmosphere was alive with chatter and the vibrant energy of magical folk going about their day. Anne passed by familiar establishments like Ollivanders, where the windows displayed a multitude of wands, each with its own unique core and wood. The scent of freshly brewed potions wafted out of Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, and the sound of children's laughter could be heard from Quality Quidditch Supplies. The displays in the windows of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions showed robes for every possible event, shimmering with various enchantments.
If anyone even noticed a young girl walking alone in the busy alley they did not stop her or asked anything.
The tall, snow-white building of Gringotts loomed ahead, its impressive architecture adorned with intricate carvings and guarded by stern-looking goblins.
The goblins sent out a warning that is engraved across the second pair of doors of Gringotts...
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Anne had perhaps read the warning hundreds of times be it in the books (in the past life) or in person, coming to the bank alone or with her grandparents throughout the years yet she still hold the message in awe.
The goblins, with their sharp features and calculating expressions, were known for their shrewdness and skill in handling finances. Anne walked up to the goblin teller, his narrow eyes giving him an air of authority.
"Good afternoon. I'm here to see my account manager," she said politely.
The goblin nodded curtly, directing her to Ironbones' office. Ironbones was a meticulous goblin with a keen eye for detail and a reputation for shrewdness. His desk was cluttered with scrolls and ledgers, but he greeted Anne with a respectful nod. "Miss Sallow, a pleasure as always."
Anne spent the morning discussing mundane business matters with him, her natural business acumen evident in their conversation. She inquired about the latest investments, reviewed financial statements, and discussed potential expansion plans. Ironbones, despite his gruff exterior, respected Anne's keen intellect and sharp insights.
As Ironbones escorted her out, they walked through the long, marble hallways of the bank, where Anne encountered the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy, with his platinum blonde hair and aristocratic demeanor, stood with his wife, Narcissa, and their son, Draco. They were accompanied by two other boys, whom Anne recognized as Reinhard Lestrange and Danton Dolohov.
While Anne was not very socially active she still kept news of the higher society as any self respecting businessmen should. Naturally she recognized the two young heirs of the controversial houses. They were quite famous due to their families' involvelment with the Death Eaters. But they were old money even if Lestrange's father, uncle and aunt were locked up in Azkaban; they held a lot of social and political power. Same with Dolohov. A foundation of several hundred years could have cracks but would not break down due to a mere half a decade of following an unhinged mass murderer. Truly connections, influence and money has no bounds. She strives to have such confidence one day, to swagger around freely while claiming to be imperioed to provide funding and killing innocents.
Anne greeted Lord and Lady Malfoy with a slight tilt of her head, a gesture that might seem presumptuous for a nine-year-old, but Anne was no ordinary child. She was the master of the Sallow family, granddaughter of Phoebe Sallow, who had defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald, and niece of the former Minister of Magic, Lloyd Sallow. Lucius greeted her with a nod, acknowledging her status. Narcissa smiled a pureblood smile, and Anne noticed the three young boys appraising her curiously.
Reinhard Lestrange, his voice dripping with guarded calculation, spoke up. "Miss Sallow, I've heard much about your family's accomplishments. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Anne smiled, her eyes gleaming with intelligence. "The pleasure is mine, Reinhard. I've heard much about the Lestrange family as well."
Who hasn't honestly? Bellatrix Lestrange is the unhinged witch parents tell their children to be aware of.
Draco Malfoy, with a slight smirk, added, "Miss Sallow, will you be attending Hogwarts in the coming years?"
Another variation from the original plot was that the typical age for the first magical maturity was between the age of 12 and 13. Naturally the Hogwarts first years were all older than 13.
Anne nodded, her expression composed. "Yes, I will. I'm looking forward to it."
Reinhard's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of challenge in his voice. "I suppose we'll see if all those accomplishments hold up at Hogwarts."
Anne's smile didn't falter, but her eyes flashed with determination. "I'm sure they will."
The boys exchanged glances, clearly intrigued by Anne's confident demeanor. Meanwhile, Anne's ancient magic sight allowed her to see vibrant blue auras pulsating from their still-developing magic cores, promising great potential if nurtured correctly.
In the back of her mind, Anne couldn't help but think about the dark times ahead. The shadow of Voldemort was looming over the magical world, and she knew that the terror he would bring would shape the lives of everyone, especially young witches and wizards. Friendships forged in such turbulent times would be tested, and those who survived would be bonded.
She is waiting to see what will form of these boys. Will they be the forgotten tragedies or will they be important to the storyline, to The Twins?
Anne thought that it is most likely to be the latter though.