Prologue
The nice change in the weather, which May brought, made all children in the small village of Meavy go out and cherish the beautiful day. Countless games awaited them, the whole day screams of joy were to be heard – every small street was occupied by kids, in front of every house was a mother or a granny keeping an eye on the little noisy and mischievous girls and boys. In this cacophony only two neighbour houses were quiet and no children whatsoever were engaged in fun games in the open space outside of them.
The first house seemed to be deserted – the curtains were drawn, the door was tightly closed and the flowers in front were on the brink of dying. The second house also looked inhospitable but the small front garden was well cared for. The other sign of life was the girl huddled on the side steps, her back pressed tightly against the door. She was completely hidden from curious glances –impossible to see if one didn't know her location. She was clutching something to her chest, her knuckles were white, her face – wet from tears. Abruptly, the front of the door of the said house opened, the hinges screeching and the girl jumped from her spot as graceful as a cat. Leaving the framed picture in a nook between the steps and the house, she was right on the front, before the woman, who emerged from the house, had barely opened her mouth, presumably to call her name.
'Yes, mother?' The woman closed her mouth and examined the girl's face for a moment, which was now void of any tears. She didn't say anything, just beckoned the girl inside. The door was carefully closed; the silent anger behind the action wasn't noticeable. Not that there was anyone to notice it in the first place.
Everyone in Meavy knew whose property these houses were, why the first looked deserted and who exactly the stern looking woman and the child were. Simply no one found satisfaction in discussing this topic anymore. Even the usual gossipers – women sitting idly while their husbands worked – knew that they should not cross that line.
The first house belonged to the Creevy's family.
For some May had brought wonderful weather, for others– nothing but sorrow, pain and endless tears. In the beginning of May, an old woman and a bespectacled boy arrived in Meavy, carrying news which was bound to break the hearts of the Creevy's family. Colin, the elder son of the milkman … , had died - the poor Creevy boy who had just turned 16. The carriers of the news were hidden by the cloak of the moonless night but the gut-wrenching scream of Elena – Colin's mother – pierced the air and was heard in the whole village. The next day news travelled with light speed - Colin Creevy was dead, poor boy..., I knew that boarding school was no good, he should've stayed her, Meavy is safe…
Not that this made the Creevy's pain lesser, but at least they knew their boy had died so many others could live. Everyone else thought that his death was an unfortunate turn of events - villagers couldn't learn the truth – that he was, in fact, a wizard. He had died for Hogwarts - School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fighting against the Darkest Wizard ever lived – Voldemort - and his followers. He had died defending other students like him – Muggleborns – protecting his own little brother Dennis. The old woman and the boy left, leaving the Creevy's to mourn over their beloved brother and son. No one from the villagers suspected that they were wizards amongst them.
But the Creevy's boys weren't the only wizards that lived in Meavy.
The second house belonged to the Roberts' family.
Unlike the other dwellers of Meavy, Mr and Mrs Roberts weren't originally from this village. They had come during the autumn several years ago. Previously they had lived in a cottage in the middle of nothing – this nothing was often called Dortmoor. Villagers thought that maybe the isolation they lived in made them so peculiar in comparison to what they called normal.
'There is something off about this family, I swear in my guts.' Some used to say. They were right.
They knew very little of what the Roberts had lived through. Briella and Mathew Roberts and their two children – little Noel and sweet Kali – had been an idyllic family. Although they lived cut off from other people, they always helped and gave shelter to those lost in Dortmoor. They were happy and the sudden change in happy families doesn't occur overnight. In this case, it did. It all started with this job that Mr Roberts accepted - he just had to manage a campground close to his home for a week during what seemed to be a very fancy event. Thousands of people, peculiarly dressed, poured out to attend - Mathew was snowed under work and his mind didn't work properly anymore. He remembered how relieved he felt when the evening came to an end and the event was finally over. His job was done; he could rest and recover, he had received his payment and was headed towards his house. Noel and Kali were delighted to see him, so was his wife. He went to bed peacefully. Next thing he knew, it was almost dawn and Noel was screaming at the top of lungs. Since then his little boy hadn't uttered a single word. They had visited many doctors and they all said the same thing – his muteness could be only caused by a traumatic experience. Nothing has happened though. They couldn't learn what his nightmares were all about, what has traumatized him. What invisible force has stripped them from their family happiness and had stolen the little boy's voice? Misfortunes never come singly. There was something awfully wrong with Mathew Roberts' mind – he never recovered after his last job - once he knew the answer to every question his kids asked, now he struggled to remember simple things. With the time it took greater and greater effort for him to call his family members by their names – he didn't remember them. Sweet little Kali and her mother were heart-broken – watching their beloved ones suffer and their family crumbling down. Their house was no more open to lost souls in Dortmoor.
They had made a decision and abandoned their home, wanting to leave the worries and misfortunes behind in that house. They moved in a near village called Meavy, buying a house with the little money they had. The villagers showed sympathy but obviously and obliviously avoided the Roberts. Why would they want to have anything with a broken family like theirs - Mr Roberts had practically lost his mind, Noel was mute, Briella and Kali wore the same desperate expression on their face. Mrs Roberts immersed herself in her garden, Noel sat on his bed the whole day, playing with absent-mindedly with his toys. Mr Roberts watched television all day, not really hearing not seeing anything, his face was blank. Kali had never felt so miserable.
This is how one year passed – the Roberts lived in one house, but no one could really call them a real family. The villagers learned not to bother them at all.
