Disclaimer

I do not own the world in which this story is set: anything you recognise belongs to JKR. The only thing I own in the stories are the original characters.

Chapter two: Aigneis and Martin part one

Martin's first memory was of sitting on the grass outside his home watching his sisters de-gnoming the garden. He remembered that a gnome popped out of a hole right next to him, he had been quite startled and dropped the stone he had been holding. Unfortunately the stone fell right onto the gnome's head. The gnome, understandingly, had taken offence to this and bitten him in his finger. His resulting screams had brought both his sisters running over. Marigold had grabbed the gnome and flung it a good distance into the nearby field while Marcie had cuddled him and made sure he was all right.

That had always been the way between the three of them while he was small. He was their baby; Marigold was the protector and Marcie the comforter. Martin's father had died a couple of months before he was born. His mother worked long hours and the babysitter was indifferent and didn't do a great deal other than making sure he was alive. Marigold and Marcie had been his whole world until he was four; that was when, to him, the worst thing possible could happen – Marcie and Marigold went to Hogwarts. He wept for three days straight after they left. It just wasn't fair. The twins came home at Christmas with stories galore. They were having a wonderful time. But he wasn't.

Martin's babysitter quit after that first Christmas because he was "depressing" her. In despair over what to do with him, his mother tried sending him to the local (Muggle) primary school. That didn't work. His very first day it went wrong. The first thing the class did was art and all they were all sorted into groups of 4 or 5 and sat around tables with lots of magazine pictures cut up. They were supposed to be making collages. Everything his mother had said that morning was going round his mind "Must not mention magic. Must not mention Muggles. Must pretend to be a Muggle." He was so scared about saying the wrong thing he didn't say anything for a while.

He reached for the glue. "New boys have to wait until everyone has finished before they can use the glue. It's the rule." The girl sitting next to him informed him smugly.

"But if I wait until everyone has finished I won't have time to do my picture." He pointed out reasonably.

"Sorry, but it's the rule, I can't do anything about the rule." She looked at him. The others at the table giggled. It wasn't the rule. He was sure it wasn't the rule, it couldn't be. It was unfair. But every time he reached for the glue one of the others would grab it out of his hand "It's the rule!" It was so stupid. The pictures weren't even moving, and a sticking charm on the paper would be better than the glue but he was fairly sure that asking the teacher for a sticking charm would come under the heading of mentioning magic.

Getting increasingly upset and angry Martin finally had enough. He grabbed the glue back from the girl next to him and squeezed the tube hard. His frustration caused him to accidentally enhance the speed the glue came out of the tube by magic. It squirted everywhere: all over the girl who started the teasing; all over the other children at the table and even all over the teacher (Mrs Fisher) who had come over to the table to investigate. The look on Mrs Fisher's face was very scary. "It was a accident." He whispered. "A accident."

"Corner. Now!" She pointed.

"But …" He started.

"NOW!"

He spent the rest of the morning crying in the corner. When the teacher let them out for break he ran as fast as he could. He ran all the way home and hid in the shed where his sisters kept their broomsticks. When he didn't come back in from break, Mrs Fisher got worried and questioned the class. Realising that none of them had seen him during break-time at all she contacted the headmistress. They searched the school thoroughly. For some reason they didn't actually know where exactly Martin and his mother lived.

By the time Martin's mother found him in the evening there was a full-scale hunt for him in the village. The fact that he was alive and well, completely unharmed and had, in fact, slept through much of the afternoon; was somewhat irritating to his worried teachers. It was suggested, firmly, to his mother that perhaps he wasn't "quite ready for" school. She thanked them for their concern and suggested that perhaps it was the school that wasn't "quite ready for" Martin and that it was hardly Martin's fault if that was the case. The conversation deteriorated from there.

The next few days she took Martin into her work with her. It was rather boring for him and she was worried that he needed children his own age. The final solution was found through a colleague at work – Zenerva Beritson. Zenerva worked mornings only and her husband worked the afternoon and evening shift managing security at the Ministry. They had two children and said they'd be happy to have Martin in with theirs all day so from then on he spent his days with his new friends Lachlann and Aigneis. It was quite a good arrangement. Every morning Martin would floo over to the Beritson house. Mr Beritson taught them in the morning, while Mrs Beritson was at work. She came home in the afternoon and looked after them while they played.

Lachlann and Aigneis didn't look much alike. Lachlann, despite being a year younger than the other two, was the tallest of the trio and had green eyes, freckles and flaming red hair that stuck out from his head at all angles. Aigneis was short with pale skin, deep blue eyes and dark brown, almost black, hair. She was definitely the brains of the trio – though brains is probably the wrong word. Boss would probably be the better way to describe it. Over the next few years the three of them caused chaos at every possible opportunity. They never meant to though, it was never the plan, chaos just sort of happened around them.

The mornings were generally calm. Aigneis was not a morning person and the three of them were usually kept fairly busy in lessons until lunchtime. After lunch was a different matter. If the weather was fine the three of them usually played outside, if it wasn't they were confined to the house. That was usually when the real trouble would occur.

There was the time Mrs Beritson heard a huge crash from the study and rushed in to find the study table had fallen over and the three of them in the middle of the room covered in ink and surrounded by books. The explanation that they had been playing caves under the table and it just fell was not accepted. Then there was the time they were playing Quidditch on their toy broomsticks in the kitchen and only discovered after they had broken 26 glasses. Or the time they accidentally enchanted Aigneis' dolls to become alive and left them in the playroom. The dolls had been rather upset about this and had virtually destroyed the playroom and it's contents looking for the three children. By the time Aigneis and Martin were nine and Lachlann eight, whenever it was raining Mrs Beritson made them carry on with lessons right through the afternoon and right where she could keep her eye on them.

A/N

Apologies the pre-letter Aigneis and Martin section has had to be split over two chapters.