Author's note
Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)
CHAPTER 1
SPINNER'S END
Ella curses silently under her breath in frustration.
The map in her hands is not making sense any more. To make things worse, a drop of water mercilessly drills a huge hole through the pathetic piece of paper. Now it's real hopeless.
She has managed to get lost. Again. Not that she minds. Getting lost has been a regular part of her life, and it would feel wrong if she made it through a single month without getting lost somewhere, somehow. That, however, does not eliminate the urge to curse her map and the universe in general for getting her into this.
The eave she is standing under is useless. It is too small to do any good. All the houses in this neighborhood look exactly the same – none of them has a larger eave. It is getting dark and the rain is displaying the tendency to turn into a storm.
She is too busy wiping rainwater from her face to notice two figures approaching until they are standing right in front of her.
He is a tall man. A really, really tall man, with black hair, black eyes, black clothes and a black umbrella. On his side is a boy with black hair but other parts less so.
The man fixes her with a glare. The boy shifts his gaze from her to him and back. Caught off guard, she blinks at them, too dumbstruck to speak.
"If you don't mind, Miss, we wish to enter our home," mutters the man.
Oops.
"I'm sorry."
Ella leaps aside to clear the doorway she has been blocking. The man shoves the key in the lock without delay and without another glance at her. The boy, however, continues to eye her curiously.
"Difficult folks," she murmurs inwardly.
She would happily let them disappear from the scene as soon as possible, but the rain has indeed turned into a storm and her survival instinct overrides everything else.
"Excuse me, sir?," she asks hurriedly. "I have got lost. I wonder if there is a telephone booth nearby I can use to call a cab?"
The man shoots her a look that screams "How dare you bother me with your stupid question?". She ignores it.
"Unfortunately, no," he says.
They quickly enter, and some of the boy's nagging sounds escape before the door is tightly shut.
The storm is growing wild, whipping a mixture of wind and water at her face. She sighs. It is pointless to just stand here and suffer. She will sense the way by her intuition. At least there is the chance of finding a larger eave.
She shoves what is left of her map into her shoulder bag, ready to leave. Suddenly, the door swings open. The boy peeks out and calls after her:
"Please come in, Miss. It's storming. It's dangerous to be out there."
He briskly steps aside and gestures her to enter. In three seconds, she weighs the options. It is indeed dangerous to walk in a storm like this. Broken branches have started to fly wildly over her head.
"Thank you. It's very kind of you," she smiles. The boy grins in reply.
For the unfortunate woman who has lost her way for half an hour in the rain, the warmth and pleasant fragance of herbs inside is heavenly. The boy sits her down in a worn-out armchair and offers her a dry towel.
"I will bring you some tea."
With that he leaves the living room. The moment her face dries, Ella immediately registers the extraordinary number of books around her.
Bookshelves line the walls, leaving absolutely no spare space. All of them look very antique. Failing to refrain her curiosity, she studies the titles of those sitting close to her.
When the boy reappears with tea, she asks:
"You are wizards, aren't you?"
He freezes on the spot.
"I guess from the titles of these books," she adds.
The aforementioned man instantly peeks in out of nowhere.
"You are a witch?," he demands.
"No, I'm a muggle," says Ella.
"Don't lie to me," he narrows his eyes and walks in, towering over her.
Slightly frightened and greatly annoyed, she frowns:
"No. What would I lie for, sir?"
"These books are charmed muggle-resistant," he darts his eyes along the shelves and back to her. "Only wizards and witches can see the real titles. And. Only. Wizards. And. Witches. Use. The. Word. 'Muggle'."
Ella shrugs:
"I can see through muggle-resistant charms. I am a wizard-born muggle."
Both the boy and the man stares at her in confusion.
"You mean you are a squib, Miss?," asks the boy, his head tilted to one side.
"Yes, 'squib' is the British term," says Ella. "But I prefer the international term, which is 'wizard-born muggle'."
The man scans her top to toe and back:
"Where are you from?"
"Finland, sir."
This family is upside down. The child is amazingly polite and the adult is amazingly rude. Shouldn't it be the other way around?
The boy clears his throat and proceeds to serve the tea.
"Tea for you too?," he glances at the man.
"No."
"Okay. Where is your home, Miss? How did you get lost?"
"My home is in Finland," says Ella. "I am here to run an errand. I think there is something wrong with my map because I couldn't find the way as it shows."
"There has been construction around here," says the man. "Passenger routes have been blocked and redirected in a very disorganized way. No one would bother to update the map given that only one house in this neighborhood is still occupied."
"You mean you are the only family living here?," her eyes open wide in surprise.
"Obviously," the man sneers.
Dictated by her second instinct, she ignores his rudeness and immediately searches for the notebook in her bag. Opening it on her lap, she jots down the interesting fact.
"What are you writing, Miss?," asks the boy, his head tilted to the other side.
"Facts," she replies without looking up.
"Facts?"
"Oh, never mind," she closes the notebook and shoves it back where it was.
The man lazily points his wand at one of the bookshelves to summon a map. He almost throws it on the table in front of her. Almost.
"Please locate your destination. I can escort you to the closest apparition point."
Ella reaches the table to open the map, not without a glare at him. She tries to focus on the fact that he is trying to help. She can suffer from this little rudeness in exchange for a fast, safe trip back to her inn.
"It's here, sir," she points at the location.
The man glances at her index finger. There is an apparition point one block away from the inn. He briskly grabs his travel cloak.
"Go warm up the food," he tells the boy.
With an unfriendly glance at her, he holds out his arm. Despite her protesting pride, Ella rises.
"Goodbye, thank you very much for your hospitality," she smiles brightly at the boy, stressing the word "hospitality" to point out the contrast.
Once she has grabbed the man's arm, he asks coldly:
"Secured?"
"Yes, sir."
They disapparate. A moment later, they appear on the street where her inn is. The storm has eased out. She exchanges a final glare with him:
"Thank you, sir."
"You are welcome."
Without further pleasantries, which apparently do not exist in his being, he disappears. Ella shrugs it off and happily heads towards her inn. Another night to enjoy in her adventurous and exciting life, which is loaded with encounters with strange human beings, wizarding and muggle alike.