I do not own any of these characters.

Please review! My birthday is on sunday!

"Rowena, dear, wake up," her maid shook her gently; "it's time to go to Queen Maeve." Rowena stirred and stretched her arms far above her head and yawned.

"Please leave," Rowena said tiredly to her maid. Without a word, the maid got up and scurried out of the room. Rowena opened her large, brown eyes and let them adjust to the bright morning light that she dreaded, yet coveted. She slowly pulled her blanket off of her comfortably warm body and she was surrounded by the cool, autumn air. A slender foot reached the chilled, stone floor, closelyfollowed by the second foot. She pulled her nightgown up over her head and threw it down on the floor. Picking up her new wand from her bedside table, she magically filled a small bowl with warm water and dipped her fingers in. She washed her face, hands and neck and then threw the bowl off to the side.

She walked towards her chest and opened one of the heavy, wooden doors. Her closet was filled with the finery that her wealthy father, the duke, was able to get her. She pulled out her favorite set of robes. They were made of long, purple velvet and trimmed with gold ribbon. She pulled them on and set a matching, pointed hat upon her head. Admiring herself in the mirror, she took off the hat and brushed out her long, wavy, light brown hair. Rowena was no beauty; she had no outstanding features or extraordinary talents. She was just plain, everyday Rowena Ravenclaw.

Yesterday, Rowena drove through the countryside with her father. Around noon, they arrived at a small cottage with a thatched roof, buried deep into the woods. Her father knocked loudly upon the door, saying, "Olyfander! It's Ravenclaw!"

The door slowly opened to reveal a stout man with a tuft gray hair on each side of his head and small spectacles that rested on his long nose. "Ruford!" the man exclaimed hoarsely as he squeezed her father in a tight hug.

"Ahh…Ladde, it has been to long," Ruford said as they pulled away.

"Come in, come in," he said as he beckoned them inside of his cottage. "Make yourselves at home," he said proudly.

The inside was bigger than it looked on the outside. It was decorated plainly; there was a wooden table with four chairs in the kitchen, a few old chairs by the fireplace and a small bed in a far corner.

"You must be Rowena!" Olyfander said as he turned to face the young witch. "I haven't seen you since you were a little girl." She politely curtsied to the man and he laughed loudly.

"Ruford, my old friend, you are going to have quite a handful with this one," he said. Olyfander grabbed two old mugs from a dusty shelf and filled them to the brim with ale. He handed one mug to Ruford and they raised their glasses in a toast. "To money!" Olyfander said, chuckling, as the two mugs banged together and both men finished their ale in one swig.

"Ahh…business, business," Olyfander said, as serious as he could be. "What can I do for you, my friend?"

Ruford signaled for Rowena and she picked up her skirts and walked towards the two men. "Rowena is going to Queen Maeve tomorrow," Ruford said.

"Ah-ha," Olyfander cackled, "I have just the one for you, mi'lady!" Rowena looked up at him inquiringly. "For the girl, I am thinking twisted dragon heartstring and sage. 12 1/3 inches…erm…hickory. Yes!" he thought aloud.

"Excuse me sir," Rowena said, "what is this for?"

Olyfander bent down and said to her, "wands, missy, wands." Rowena nodded and watched as the old man went through cupboards pulling out materials. "Sit down girl, I'll show ya how they're made." He said.

Rowena slumped down into a chair and Olyfander set a thin, dirty parcel on the table. He rolled it out to reveal many things that Rowena had never even seen before.

"Wand making supplies," he grunted. "This mi'lady, is dragon heartstring," he held up several pieces of purple, metallic string. "That'll be for the base of your wand. This one is sage," he held out long, thin dried plants. He carefully put the dragon heartstring and sage into a long, hickory stick that was cut at exactly 12 1/3 inches. He poured at silvery liquid into the wand and closed the tip of the wand with an small, opal stopper. He took a blade out of a small leather pouch and carved an intricate, woodland design into the hickory.

Olyfander held the newly made wand up into the light emitting from the small, dirty window. "Here you go. I made a special one for you, try it out," he said as he handed it to her. She examined it closely. Her favorite part was the opal stopper; when she ran her fingers across it, it would reveal her name; Rowena Ravenclaw. She twirled it around and she giggled as it emitted different colored sparks.

"Thank you, Mr. Olyfander," she said.

"No problem, dearie," he replied.

"How much, Ladde?" Ruford asked.

"Don't worry about it, my old friend, don't worry about it," Olyfander replied as he rested his calloused hand on his beer belly and watched with wide eyes as Rowena enchanted a book and it began to sing and dance. "You know, Ruford," Olyfander said, "this girl of yours is real clever."

"Yes. She always has been, just like her mother," Ruford sighed.

"Yep…but don't let it get to her head, my old friend," Olyfander warned.

0000000

"Godammit woman," a large, burly manyelled drunkenly as he stumbled towards his wife, "I'm gonna kill you, Mildred! I swear."

An emaciated pregnant woman cowered terrified in a corner. "No, please don't hurt me, Evrawg, my love, please," she cried and pleaded helplessly. On all fours, she crawled over to seek refuge beneath a splintered straight back chair missing one of its legs. She pulled her swollen body into a fetal position as her husband charged madly towards her.

In her head, she counted the upcoming seconds until she would feel a severe blow to her head and would wake up hours later, like many times before. Instead, she slowly pulled her head up as she heard retching noises. Now was her chance. She stumbled as she heaved herself up from the dirty cottage floor, ever so quietly. Reaching over beside her, she grabbed a heavy brass cauldron and swung it over Evrawg's head. Evrawg passed out and fell flat on his face, straight into his vomit.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Mildred staggered as she collected her balance. In a corner to her right, several young children broke apart from their close, scared huddled and scurried off. She felt a pair of thin arms, way too thin arms she thought to herself, wrap around her waist. Her eldest son, who was still quite young, looked up into her eyes. "Mama," he said softly, with a nervous shake in his voice, "are you all right?"

"Shh…don't be scared. Tomorrow you will go to Queen Maeve's, you will be safe there, my love," she clucked as she ran her thin, bony fingers through his dirty, matted hair.

"I don't want to leave mama," he said to her.

"How come?" she inquired.

"If I leave, who will protect you?" he asked her. Hot tears began to swell in her large, gray eyes as she continued to hold her son close.

"Don't worry, Godric, love…I will be all right," she moved her head away so he could not see her tears. Pulling herself together, she said tersely, "Now go find your brothers and sisters and put them into bed.

The young boy let go of his suffering mother and turned around to obey her request. "Godric…wait," she choked out.

"Yes mama?"

She extended a leather pouch towards him and said, "Take this and keep it safe. Don't open it until you get to Connaught Castle tomorrow," she looked fiercely into his eyes, "do you promise me, Godric?"

"I promise mama," he bowed his head in respect and Mildred squeezed out a small smile, which Godric returned contagiously. Godric's heart sank as he watched his mother. She was down on the floor, rag in hand, cleaning up the retch off the floor and off of her husband. The once beautiful witch had become thin and bony from lack of food and abuse. Her dull, brown hair hung limp in strings, but was usually tied up with an old, dirtied rag. Her clothes were in tatters and the clung loosely to her protruding ribs and the bloated stomach she had recently formed from her current pregnancy, her thirteenth pregnancy.

What disturbed Godric the most was her eyes. They were large, grey and curious. His mother had never been bright or rich or even happy since she had been married. Her eyes were filled with a sorrow, trying to be brave and trying to be kind. He couldn't leave her. She was too weak and sick; shewas going todie.

Godric woke early as the sun began to rise over the horizon. He pulled himself from his warm bed, only wanting to linger a bit more. Throwing his ragged clothes on him, he pulled back the shaggy quilt hanging from the doorway. His mother was sitting limply next to the dim firelight, sewing. Without looking up from her work, she said, "go wash up, Godric."

He followed her orders and washed his thin body in the icy cold water of the clear lake. Hesitant, Godric plunged his head underneath and scrubbed the dirt and grease from his hair. Wrapping himself in a thin sheet, he ran back inside to avoid the bitter morning air.

Wordlessly, his mother handed him new clothes she had sewn for him. They were of the best material that they could afford and stained with spots of blood from pricked fingers. He thanked his mother as he pulled up his new, brown breeches and matching tunic. Godric tied up his old leather boots onto his calloused feet and gathered his few belongings into a burlap sack and walked out the door.

"I love you," Mildred called behind him as he made his way on foot down the rocky, dirt road. Taking one last glance at his mother, he ran back as fast as his legs were able to carry him and hugged her tightly. She kissed his forehead and whispered, "be safe, Godric," into his ear before he finally left.

Do you get it? OlyfanderOllivander?Also, just to clarify,according to JKR, Queen Maevetaught young witches and wizards before Hogwarts was created. Queen Maevewas a legendaryCeltic queen who excelled in seduction and was believedto have superhuman powers. Please review! Tell me whatyou didlike and didn't like.