When I first found the exact address of my new residence, I have to say, I was not impressed at all. The place looked as though it was about to fall apart or cave in any minute. I thought to myself: Trista, you moron, no one was maintaining this place for over a decade! Of course, one would still not expect it to be in such shambles.
Of course, when I entered I had another thing coming…
Inside, the place was incredible! I love magic! It was the most exciting thing that happened to me since… well, ever. Immediately, I went around exploring. The house must have over twenty rooms, several bathrooms; antique furniture… the coolest thing was definitely the family portraits. There was one of my paternal great, great, great grandfather from France, Francois Pierre Deveroux. Good looking bloke, if I may say so myself.
The most interesting discovery I made, however, was a letter to me from my grandmother. I found it in a dresser that I am almost certain was mother's. the letter was short and to the point, just like something I would write.
Granddaughter Trista,
How unfortunate that we shall never meet, it is my greatest regret.
I have left you a gift, a wand made especially for you.
You will find it under the rose.
Use it well and do me proud.
CL.
You see, after grandpa Mortimer was killed, granny Carmilla went a little soft, at least so my mother claimed in her last letter and the evidence seems to agree. She came to this very house to try and reconcile with my mother. According to mother, she apologized for not being a better person, a better mother. She wanted to make up for it by getting the people who were persecuting us to follow her trail and make them chase her for as long as she could hold out, so that my parents might escape and her little granddaughter be spared.
She managed to keep them away for a shorter time than she herself had expected, and they swiftly got on my parents' trail. Well, you know the rest.
Whatever, what I had to do next was find this mystery gift my grandmother had bestowed upon me. of course, there was not a single rose to be found near the house, as there was no garden. This didn't really surprise me, as I expected this was some sort of clue, so I kept on exploring. Finally, a few days after I found the letter, I found a wooden chest hidden in one of the rooms.
Not too shockingly, the chest had a yellow rose painted on its façade. This has no significance that I know of, the yellow rose isn't our family crest or anything. I suspect this was merely a random storage vessel for Carmilla, a convenient way to hide something.
Inside this chest, was a true treasure. I looked with awe at the object in front of me, and gently took it in my hands. At last, I had a wand to call my own!
And it was no ordinary wand. Next to it was another note from grandma Carmilla, telling me that it was forged of the rare ivy wood and her right fang by a reclusive wand-maker who resides in the Carpathians. Honestly, it was the coolest thing I had ever laid eyes on… and it was all mine.
My next step was to learn some practical magic. At my disposal I had a vast library, full of books on subject ever discussed in the wizarding world. How did I manage to perform magic as a minor without appearing on the ministry's radar? My new home was protected by so many charms and was an inactive spot for so long, that the ministry never even bothered to look.
Anyway, I studied everything I could handle myself. I could not really do too much about potions since I had no access to materials, but I learned charms, transfiguration, and even endeavored in the dark arts and defense of them. You see, I needed magic to do what I wanted to do next.
As I mentioned before, I am a lover of adventure. I live for a good thrill. And who can blame me? I mean, we only live once. So, as I was saying, I was looking to find a new and exciting hobby. Something that would challenge me and allow me to use all my new skills. Thus, I chose the life of a professional criminal, a mastermind thief.
Not that I needed the money, I had plenty to spare. But you see, a life of crime is exhilarating, it made my blood rush and gave me that thrill I was looking for.
At first, I picked small, insignificant targets near my home for practice. Gradually, I moved up. In a few months, I was not even fourteen and a half, I was breaking into important muggle sites. I stole from the British Museum, the Louvre, and private collections. I stole jewelry, artworks, and antiques, and never came close to capture.
At this point, I was on the ministry's radar.
They called me "The Raven" in the Daily Prophet, or so I was told later. Creative, I know.
I would have continued to avoid capture, I believe, had I not made one fatal mistake. One stupid, dumb, ludicrous move brought me down.
I was nearing my fifteenth birthday and wanted to celebrate the occasion by committing the ultimate crime. Break into a place no one ever managed to penetrate. I wanted to rob Gringots Bank.
