Retreated in the hilled area around Belfast, a lone cabin stood. Now not to be mistaken, this cabin may look like a mere Muggle's mountainous get away. However on the inside, things were much larger and mystical than they seemed.
The weather was misty, as it was early morning. The month, July of 1991. In the middle of the month it was. Perhaps on the 14th or 17th. It wasn't like the inhabitants to keep the time, anyway. They didn't usually have places to be. The three were on vacation, after all.
Now the cabin was inhabited by three very strange, very odd characters. The owner and oldest of the inhabitants stood at a height of six feet tall. He was quite wide around the middle, weighing more than most men. A gland issue was the cause, he had once told one of his many co-workers over a drink of Muggle alcohol.
A head of messy, peppered hair rested on his cranium held back by a teal bandana. The bandana was quite a match to his grey-blue eyes. Over his broad shoulder, his grey hide overcoat slumped in its lumpy shape. If one didn't know his race (which was often the case), his pointy buckled black boots would make them quite uncomfortable.
This man, a fair age of 37, was no ordinary man of course, as stated before. A wizard of the dark arts, Hubert Jenkins was just as abnormal as anyone could get. At least, any normal Muggle. Be that as it may, he isn't the latter.
His only nephew resided with him in this cabin, a ripe age of 17. The teen stood at an average height of 5' 7" and was well built. Similar to his uncle's youth, the boy's swept hair shone jet black. His eyes were a bright blue. His clothing varied from casual muggle clothing to long robes. Young James Foreman, though orphaned now, remained in the care of his favourite uncle. This year he shall be returning to his education at Hogwarts, a school for witchcraft and wizardry where he excels.
The third occupant was just as odd, if not more curious than the last three. A small girl aged eleven and counting, who's family had completely disappeared. For a girl her small size, she tends to wear clothing a little larger for her. The curly head of dark brown hair lie on her shoulders, thick and medium length. Her eyes were a shade of blue-green, like her father before her. One would say she was the complete replica of her mother, save her eyes.
This story revolves mainly around this young girl, this tween. For you see, Mryna Ashwin holds many a secret behind her blue-green eyes. Many a secret, in fact, that she remains completely oblivious too.
Enough about that, though. Let us begin.
Early morning in Ireland. It was another day, the same summer day as ever. The little girl was already up, this early in the morning, to help out her lovely guardian in the garden.
"Are you sure I should uproot them, like this?" she asked from a patch of vegetation in front of the cabin. Hubert stood up, pressing a hand behind his neck to crack it.
"Aye', Isabella. Just make sure you don't tear 'em."
Mryna had been called Isabella ever since she could remember. She didn't mind it of course, but it did raise questions. Nevertheless, she didn't ask questions often. Mostly because she knew the answers would come to her eventually.
Isabella had always been fond of helping Hubert in the garden. All the different ingredients he grew for potions threw her into a completely fascinated state. The girl would sit at his side for hours, watching him brew potions and squealing in excitement when the cauldron would change colour.
Isabella was very easily impressed, and very happy.
The sun had shone right through the mist when it had finally risen. Brushing his forehead with the back of his hand, Hubert motioned his adopted daughter into the house.
"Open the windows, dear. It's going to get muggy in here."
"Sure thing, Hubert!"
Isabella knelt down on the seat by the window and thrust it open. She did the same for the other side.
The inside of the cabin was only slightly bigger than usual. A small kitchen, modernized with a cauldron in the middle of the tiled floor sat in the left-most corner from the entrance. A round, wooden table sat to the right, it's three stools prepared for the occupants at any time. A game of cards lie forgotten on it's surface. Behind the kitchen, a stack of books towered on two shelves, which bordered a small fireplace. A small couch seated two in front of the fireplace, and a little leather recliner was pushed in the corner beside a tall lamp.
A corridor in the back led to three bedrooms, shared between the three occupants of the cabins. All three rooms were distinct to the owner's taste, whether it was the great Auror Hubert, or the student James, or the dragon and Quidditch fanatic Isabella.
James appeared into the main space of the cabin, a text book in hand and his wand haphazardly hanging out of his back pocket. The Oak stood out against his dark, black pants.
His uncle had already started to brew something in the cauldron, and passed a plate of eggs to his daughter. "There you are, sweetie."
"Thanks, Hubert." she retreated to the wooden table, placing an egg onto another plate for James. He placed his book down beside his chair and greeted Isabella with a cheerful smile.
"How are you today?"
"I'm good, a little restless though." she admitted, quickly finishing off her egg.
"We can fly about later, if you'd like." James beamed at her, almost pleading for a reason to fly. Hubert clicked his tongue from his cauldron. "Not a chance, you ol' trickster. I don't want Isabella hurting herself again."
Isabella pouted at her father from the table. "But Hubert-"
"No but's, you two." he added with a chuckle when he caught Isabella's frowning face. "Maybe later, your 'cousin' has work to do."
James scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Not even."
Hubert gave the boy a glare, slicing up something pink and adding it to the mix, "I won't have you doing poorly in Potions again."
Isabella chuckled. James' poor scores on the Potions exams last year was old news in the cabin. A small hoot sounded in the distance. Isabella stood from her seat, carrying her plate with her to discard it with the other dirty dishes.
"Sounds like Vitez is on his way." she hummed, opening the window a bit more and sitting at its side. A sprite owl, spotted brown and white dotted the over cast sky as he approached the cabin. He hooted again, swooping through the open window and turning back to land next to Isabella. Dropping a bunch of letters, the owl leapt to her shoulder and affectionately nipped her ear. She giggled, reaching in her pocket and offering the owl a treat, which was gladly accepted.
Just like every day, the little girl shifted through the letters examining each address carefully. She found one bill for Hubert, two letters from his co-workers, some promotions from Diagon Alley, and two envelopes addressed to James AND Isabella in emerald green ink.
Although, when she saw the letter she paused in her tracks. Eyes fixed on the letter, she shoved the other letters (though not necessarily meaning to) into James when he stood up from the table. The boy muttered a complaint when she did so, but soon noticed the letter in her small hand. His face changed, from one of surprise to one of sheer joy in a matter of seconds.
"Uncle!" he cried, calling the man placing ingredients carefully in the cauldron. Alarmed, Hubert dropped a horned slug and the cauldron emitted a column of billowing, vile smelling smoke. The three coughed, and Vitez shrieked in alarm flying out of the cabin. Hubert ushered them out of the cabin, grunting in dismay as the smoke greened as it seeped through the windows. Raising his wand, he began to clear the smoke using a 'simple' charm.
"Now, what is it that yer freakin' out 'bout, James?"
James proceeded to brandish Isabella's letter in his uncle's nose. With a quick snatch the man had the letter in his possession, and almost shrieked in delight at the sight himself.
Although Isabella still wore that look of curiosity on her face. Sure, she knew what it was and what it meant, but it would be nice to experience the letter's contents herself instead after all these years of reading over James' shoulder. The girl reached to grab the letter from her father, but he turned sharply out of the way.
"I knew this day would come!" He continued, ignoring Isabella's pawing at his long sleeve and wiping little imaginary tears from his eyes. James joined in with little, fake sobs. "Our baby's all grown up…'ittle Izzy is becoming a true witch…" The teenager added with one arm wrapped over his uncle's shoulder. The two put on a show, the emotions sure to chirp the young girl.
"Oy! Give it here!" Isabella snatched the letter back from her 'cousin' and sent nasty looks at her adopted family. "Bunch of weirdos, you lot are."
They chuckled, ruffling the little girl's hair. Of course, they expected this type of maturity and reaction from her.
It wasn't a surprise, really, what she found inside the letter. She had been living in a home filled with magic for quite some time now, and it was only a matter of time before this would have happened anyway.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mryna Ashwin,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress