Ello! Me again, another Wynlan story.I know I said the last one was going to be short, and it ended up the longest so far, but this I'm sure will be short. And yes, I shamelessly included my homeland in this, what can I say (and the story about the pigeon-man is a true experience of mine). There are more eventful plots coming up for Wyn's second year, and more background on the characters. As usual, the * marks time moving on/ sections or paragraphs ending. Also, as a sort of P.S note, I was wondering if anyone might like to collaborate (through email) on something.- Jack.*.
The Bourdelle estate was large and expansive, hidden from Muggle view in the heart of the Peak District. A mansion of dark wood and light stone stood at the centre of land. Woods peppered the area, and a variety of flora and fauna thrived there. The stable was filled with great horses and hippogriffs of majestic power. Solitary unicorns slinked through the undergrowth. Semi-tame wolves, fur all shades of grey, white and black, prowled sentry along the physical edge of the wards.
It was, altogether, a wonderful place to grow up. Wynlan was surrounded by beautiful creatures and landscapes. He could lose himself in the myriad paths and log shelters, safe in the cradle of his parents' powerful protective magic. Going back in the Summer Holidays, after the first long period of time he'd spent away from home, was a welcome break for Wyn. He walked up the gravel track, marvellous flowers on each side, towards the arched spruce doorway. Above the double doors was the House Bourdelle's motto: Magicae est vitae. Magic is life. They were carved into the wood and inlaid with silver. The foyer was large and grand, as the rest of the house. But Wynlan was not impressed by its glory. He knew it well enough.*.
"Wynlan Mathias Bourdelle, are you telling me that you have made friends with no fewer than two muggle-borns?" Alexandre Bourdelle's voice shook with furious disappointment. Wyn stared back defiantly at his father.
"Yes, father, I have. The only reason you have a problem with it is because you're a pureblood fanatic! You're no better than Draco Malfoy and his House!" Wynlan answered back. Alexandre came threateningly close to his son. His greying black hair was combed like a slick raven's wing, and his goatee clutched at his pointed chin. A sallow complexion gave no compliment to his hazel eyes and arched eyebrows. Tall, thin and with a harsh figure, Alexandre resembled the devil himself. "I knew that sick fool at school, you know that, and let me tell you, I am not like him. I tolerate them, I would never call one a mudblood. But my son, friends with them? No. I'll not have it!" his voice rose slowly from a hackle-raising whisper, so that the final sentence was a roar.
"Hold, Lex. I will not have you acting like that, especially not in front of such a pure and imprintable soul as our son." A light, airy, melodic voice, tainted by a hint of venom, floated down from the sweeping staircase. An elegant, gracefully beautiful woman descended the stairs. Celia Bourdelle's lengthy hair was almost as pale as her son's, her skin was porcelain white and her eyes were a startling green. She wore loose white robes that flew about her person with every step she took.
"Do not talk to me like I am a hound." Alexandre's reply was, ironically, a growl.
"Do not talk to me like you hold authority." Celia warned, raising her wand. Wyn felt a rush of gratitude towards his mother, and inwardly laughed when his father blushed red. Celia Bourdelle was a powerful woman. She married Alexandre for love, but found he had none. Now, the Frenchman was bound to her, and through her magical prowess she owned him. Of course, this arrangement was hidden from other Houses. A woman, calling the shots in such a family? It was, unfortunately, unheard of and quite vulgar to the other pedigrees.
Alexandre quivered and left, storming off towards his bedroom. "Wynlan, my dear. Your friends are perfectly welcome in our household, all of them. Regardless of blood. Anyway, it would be hypocritical of me to not allow them." Celia added with a conspiratorial wink. She had been adopted into her pure family. Alexandre still had not found out that she herself was muggleborn. Wynlan grinned at his mother and she, having done what she wanted to do, left for her bedroom.*.
Wyn laughed. The expression on Tobias' face was hilarious. His mouth was hanging open, his eyes were wide and his eyebrows raised. He was completely and utterly in awe of the wealth and splendour of the House of Bourdelle, and of course the actually physical house itself. "Wyn, you never told me you were rich!" Tobias exclaimed.
"Not rich, not really. Just... well off." Wyn said modestly.
"You have a stable. A full stable. And grounds."
"Whatever. S' just home to me, you know? I'm used to it." The double doors opened, seemingly of their own accord until Wynlan's mother stepped out from behind them.
"Hello! You must be Tobias. Wynlan has mentioned you." Celia smiled broadly.
"Of course he has." Tobias grinned, not the same grin as the one in the lake, but still roguish. Wyn was struck by the sudden memory of it, something insignificant yet still so significant, somehow. And then the memory of April, on the armchair with him, came into his mind. He shook his head. The two events were confusing enough on their own. "Come now, cheri. Show Tobias around. I'll leave you to yourselves." Celia said to Wynlan, before gliding away up the stairs.
"Can we go to the stable? I want to go to the stable. I've never been to a stable before." Tobias' excitement was unbridled.
"Sure. It's a bit of a walk, but it's scenic." Wyn smiled.*.
The stable was an elegant place of carved, varnished birch and shingled roofs. It was vast, and so it had to be, for it housed eight prized stallions and mares, along with four beautiful hippogriffs. The building lay near the end of a long, unkempt track. "We're here!" Wynlan announced. Tobias grinned widely and rushed through the half-door. It swung back after him and Wyn had to hold out a hand to stop it from hitting him. "Oh, hippogriffs! I've never actually seen then before." Tobias ran over to the nearest one. It's plumage was white, and its horsehair just as pale and dappled with grey spots. He bowed, as he had read in textbooks. The hippogriff bowed instantly back, and when Tobias stroked him it nuzzled its beak into his hand. "She's our youngest. Her name's Seraph." Wyn smiled at Tobias' gentleness. His friend beamed. "If only Hagrid got some in for next lesson." He laughed.*.
Derby city centre was an odd place, all things considered. Despite being an area of (mainly) muggle origin, it was quite strange. Its streets were drab, dreary, winding lanes of grey stone and bricks. Shops of every kind were blocked together closely, each one seeking to extort the most money from the population as possible. Though it appeared like a place of weary modern civilisation, that was a facade. Behind it were remnants of history, intertwined with the wizarding world. On an otherwise normal corner is a small shop, a painted sign on the wall from the Great War marking it out as having once been a ration station, yet one that also dispensed potion ingredients. A large Costa Coffee dominates the high street, and restored magical statues stand sentry in alcoves above. Deep beneath the Shopping Centre lies a labyrinth worthy of Daedalus, built to house a medieval witch feared by the muggle population.
"Wyn, I'm glad we decided to come into town." Tobias smiled through his donut. Wynlan rolled his eyes at his friend. He thought for a moment of the week after the picnic, the last week of summer, where April lay with him most nights by the fire, and Tobias shot his grins at him constantly. Tobias looked like that now. "Why? I find this place confusing. All the muggles, all the odd things." Wyn said.
"Yeah, but it reminds me of what life was like before all this wizardry and stuff. Before my letter. I haven't been into town in Chester for over a year. My old friends want nothing to do with me. They think I've abandoned them. But I have other friends now. And you." Tobias perked up towards the end of his sentence. Wyn knew that coming to Hogwarts had been, and still was sometimes, a difficult thing for Tobias, though he didn't show it often. Tobias was clearly extroverted, where Wynlan was the opposite, but that didn't mean he lacked insecurities. "Awww, look at you, all emotional." Wyn teased, but there was no harshness in his voice. Tobias laughed. He was throwing bits of donut at pigeons nearby. Quite suddenly, all but one of the birds flew away. A final creature, mottled and grey, strutted along alone. The source of the flock's fear was soon revealed. A scruffy man in ripped clothes, head adorned with grubby dreadlocks, crept forward in a hunter's crouch, hands outstretched behind the pigeon. He struck, arms catapulting out quickly, but the pigeon was too quick and fled. Wyn was disgusted, and Tobias laughed behind his hand. The tramp walked past the boys, shaking his head, and they noticed a huge cigarette, broken and stuffed, in his mouth. As he passed he said to them, "Not enough drugs, eh lads?". When he was out of earshot, the pair burst into excessive laughter. "Honestly though, what would we have done if he'd caught it and started to eat it in front of us?" Wyn said with horror and amusement. Tobias went into a graphic description of the man tearing into the live poultry. Wyn gagged.*.
This was a completely pointless story that I wanted to make and provides zero plot development save for that Alexandre is a weak, muggle-hating weirdo. Hope you enjoyed! Year 2 is coming next with chapters (finally)! A plot to blow up Hogwarts, in true Guy Fawkes style!- Jack.