annabel melic, first year, gryffindor

it is such a poetic love when both sides feel it. and it is beautiful when they create a flower that simply keeps on blooming. annabel spent her childhood in a house down some busy street, with faceless neighbours who never seemed to spare a glance. everyone was too busy except for the children. she adored the birthday parties with colourful balloons and confetti, what a beautiful mess. and every child knew her mum made the best cupcakes, with the perfect amount of icing. and if it was not a day to celebrate, she'd gladly spend it hidden away in the garage with her father. fiddling with whatever he worked on.

she could sit there for ours poking a single nail through an already engraved hole, and boredom never found her there for she was too busy staring at the ceiling decorated by a starry night. he thaught her constellations as he fixed old clocks, and he told her how an even bigger sky waits under a different rooftop. anna proclaimed no such thing could exist than a sky greater than her father's, then she lost her breath in the great hall of hogwarts as ghosts danced among the stars and children ate the most wonderful treats.

until she was ten years of age, unknown to the lass, her father held a very worried glance every time she was near. he seemed scared, and her mother would always reassure him before the couple went to sleep.

"my brother is a wizard, and so are you. she'll certainly be one too," she kept repeating. but for ten years no magic has resurfaced. the paranoia only grew.

then, on a day he marked on the calendar to celebrate it each year; anna made a few books fly out of their shelves. she was simply reading, enjoying some silence with her mother. the woman read to the child in an attempt at making her fall asleep, but an event happened in that story the child disliked. she shouted at her mother asking why must it have such a sad ending, jumping in her seat. wide eyed her mother simply focused on the floor where now books laid scattered. calling for her husband, he jumped from joy at the news.

finally. he could sleep knowing she'll be a wizard like him.

when the letter came her mother was quite unsure should she give it to her husband. he was obsessed, always speaking about magic and whatnot, shoving books into her baby's hands without giving the girl a chance to breathe. the first time it arrived she decided to keep it for a couple of weeks, have a talk with him about it. ask him to be less persistent on shoving magic into her life. there was no need to push such an ideal on a toddler.

however there was no talk between them as a new letter arrived merely three days latter. collected by him personally. he was in a daze for a week, excited beyond words. she could never catch him in a right mood for the conversation she desperately needed to have.

as for annabel, she was happy too. thanks to her father she developed a hunger for knowledge about magic, already having read most of the books he gave her. her trunk was stuffed with them and other machinery he made. but her favourites were the paper doves, stuffed between book pages to fly out when she decides to set them free in her dorm room.