She could hear her heels clicking on the cold wooden steps. The hall was so
huge before her; she didn't know what to do with herself. It seemed
unnecessary. Nevertheless, she sat at a table adorned with yellow. She
sighed, but not in contentment or relaxation. She was tired and hungry, and
scared all at the same time. She longed for the comfort of her home. She
closed her eyes and could smell the fire burning in the hearth, and the
thick wooly carpet under her feet. She could hear her dear mother's voice
echoing in her head with her lessons. But suddenly, all at once, her
dreaming was disturbed by a thousand students filing into the hall and
chattering, the sounds only magnified to ridiculous levels by the cold
stone echo chamber. So this was Hogwarts.
Wyllowe had never been to school with other children before. She had never really even been around them, as she never lived near enough to any village to have the chance. Her mother had taught her lessons in their small home deep in a rural forest. Wyllowe had never had much luxury, but her mother loved her and provided for her with her small Apothecary and Curiosities Shoppe in the nearest village. She traveled to the shop every Monday and Wednesday, leaving Wyllowe at home to do the more domestic tasks she couldn't. So Wyllowe had grown up strong and able, if somewhat unworldly. Many times when she ventured into town if Mother was sick or busy and in a lenient mood, Wyllowe had heard the term "beauty" tossed around in association with her name, but she never understood why. She was pleasant enough, that was for sure. However, she never thought herself a beauty. She was tall and slender, with pale skin that never did tan easily. Her hair fell around her shoulders and down her back in sheets of gold, but it was a horrible nuisance. She never could keep it out of things when she was working, and she wished it would at least have a bit of curl instead of the sleek strands that took forever to dry after bathing, and never stayed tied back due to their silky texture. Her eyes were dark, and her nose was straight, so Wyllowe wasn't concerned. At least she had no horrible deformities, and was able to learn and work. She had been happy with her small existence in the forest with her mother. They had their tiffs, but mostly worked in harmony and they loved one another. But last winter the cold had hit hard and Wyllowe's mother fell ill. She grew progressively sicker until she finally gave up, simply going to sleep and not waking up. Wyllowe knew that she was in trouble. When Wyllowe was learning her lessons, she had not just been learning reading, writing, and arithmetic. And the paper that came wasn't the local tribune, and they did not use e- mail or the post. Wyllowe and her mother were descended from a long line of magic. She wasn't a wizard, fully. Her father had been a great wizard, but he had died in an accident with some Muggle friends, boating or some other terrible Muggle fixation. Her mother, however, had been a wood nymph; so Wyllowe, although a witch as well, had the ability to speak with trees and sometimes the occasional flower, and could ask the trees to do her bidding. As soon as her mother died, Wyllowe immediately sent an owl to her paternal aunt, whom she had never seen, but had always been told to contact in case of an emergency. Wyllowe waited for two days before her long-lost family showed up at her door. Before she knew what was happening, Wyllowe was living with a strange group of relatives in a large suburban city, and it was agreed that she should be sent to Hogwarts.
Wyllowe had never been to school with other children before. She had never really even been around them, as she never lived near enough to any village to have the chance. Her mother had taught her lessons in their small home deep in a rural forest. Wyllowe had never had much luxury, but her mother loved her and provided for her with her small Apothecary and Curiosities Shoppe in the nearest village. She traveled to the shop every Monday and Wednesday, leaving Wyllowe at home to do the more domestic tasks she couldn't. So Wyllowe had grown up strong and able, if somewhat unworldly. Many times when she ventured into town if Mother was sick or busy and in a lenient mood, Wyllowe had heard the term "beauty" tossed around in association with her name, but she never understood why. She was pleasant enough, that was for sure. However, she never thought herself a beauty. She was tall and slender, with pale skin that never did tan easily. Her hair fell around her shoulders and down her back in sheets of gold, but it was a horrible nuisance. She never could keep it out of things when she was working, and she wished it would at least have a bit of curl instead of the sleek strands that took forever to dry after bathing, and never stayed tied back due to their silky texture. Her eyes were dark, and her nose was straight, so Wyllowe wasn't concerned. At least she had no horrible deformities, and was able to learn and work. She had been happy with her small existence in the forest with her mother. They had their tiffs, but mostly worked in harmony and they loved one another. But last winter the cold had hit hard and Wyllowe's mother fell ill. She grew progressively sicker until she finally gave up, simply going to sleep and not waking up. Wyllowe knew that she was in trouble. When Wyllowe was learning her lessons, she had not just been learning reading, writing, and arithmetic. And the paper that came wasn't the local tribune, and they did not use e- mail or the post. Wyllowe and her mother were descended from a long line of magic. She wasn't a wizard, fully. Her father had been a great wizard, but he had died in an accident with some Muggle friends, boating or some other terrible Muggle fixation. Her mother, however, had been a wood nymph; so Wyllowe, although a witch as well, had the ability to speak with trees and sometimes the occasional flower, and could ask the trees to do her bidding. As soon as her mother died, Wyllowe immediately sent an owl to her paternal aunt, whom she had never seen, but had always been told to contact in case of an emergency. Wyllowe waited for two days before her long-lost family showed up at her door. Before she knew what was happening, Wyllowe was living with a strange group of relatives in a large suburban city, and it was agreed that she should be sent to Hogwarts.