Prologue
1942
She was born into a family of witches. Not real witches by any means. They were the sort of people who worshiped the earth, drew from the power of the sun, and danced under the stars and moon. They had no real magic but still they performed their rituals and concocted medicines and potions for the people in their small village. There were people in the village who did not approve of their work – pagans, they were called, and devil worshipers. Perhaps they were, but as the war pushed on times got harder for England and so the devil worshiping didn't stop the people from coming. And come they did – more than ever before. They were seeking comfort and answers and these witches were providing the people with that.
Her hair was black as midnight. Her eyes were a rich brown. These were the traits characteristic of the Full Moon Witches.
She was 16 when her mother and aunts' hearts were struck with fear.
"We can't know for certain," whispered her mother.
"But I saw him coming!" her youngest aunt exclaimed.
"Hush, or the little one will hear," snapped another aunt.
"There is only one thing to do," said the oldest and wisest aunt.
"No," said her mother, "We do not need to resort to such measures. Besides we don't even know if it will work."
This shocked the young woman as they had never shown fear before – even when the towns' people threw rotten fruit at them as they walked to the town centre. They didn't even shed a tear. They walked on proudly with their chins and noses in the air. What could have put them into such a frenzy of hushed whisperings?
Later that evening her mother burst into her room, "Li-Li, quick, make haste, make haste! We must go to the circle tonight."
"Mama, I don't understand. We only go to the circle on a full moon."
"There is no time for questions. We must leave now."
They made their way down the stairs and out into the forest. They walked at a rushed pace for about thirty minutes when they finally reached the circle. The circle was just that – a circle. It was a clearing in the forest made by fallen trees and large triangular stones which formed a perfect circle in the middle of the small forest surrounding their home. Her aunts were already there, standing over a large cauldron in the centre of the circle. They were preparing something with a strong sense of urgency. This worried her. What were they making? What would it do? Who was it for?
"Is it ready sisters?" Her mother called to her aunts.
"Yes dear sister. Bring her here. She should go first."
Her mother gripped her hands tightly and hesitated for a moment before rushing her to the centre.
"Dear Li-Li. Take this cup and drink its contents."
"Mama, I don't understand. What is this for?"
Suddenly the air around them shifted and the womens' eyes darted about the circle. Something ominous was coming and it did not take long for her to realise that it was coming for them.
"Drink it! Now!"
She did as she was told. She choked and spluttered on the thick and oozy substance – somewhere between liquid and solid. But she drank the entire contents of the cup. And then it arrived. Or rather, he arrived.
A cloaked figure stepped into the circle. A young man, judging by his height.
"You can't have it," her mother screamed and then poured the contents of the cauldron out onto the ground. It hissed and sizzled as it spread across the circle.
The hooded figure became enraged and pulled out a long stick from his robe, "Avada Kedavra," he screamed at her mother and she suddenly dropped dead.
Her aunts let out a guttural scream as she stood there senseless. What had she just witnessed? Her mother killed by a cloaked villain with a stick! It must be magic. Some other kind of magic…
One-by-one her aunts dropped to the ground – dead. Lastly, he pointed his weapon on her.
"You will tell me how to make this potion," he demanded.
She stood there, dazed and in shock.
He quickly grew impatient, "Tell me or you will die!"
She had meant to tell him that she could not make the potion and that she didn't even know what it was but the spluttering had begun again. She could not speak. Something was happening to her. Something inside of her was turning her blood to ice. She let out a cry of pain.
Finally giving into his impatience he said, "Avada Kedavra."