The Winterwell Manor Closed

Birdie stood outside of the house, which was not so far off from the Leaky Cauldron. In fact, it was right down the street. “Here we are!” She smiled, looking at the small house. “It’s way bigger on the inside, so you might want to stay close to me in case you get lost.” She opened the door to an elegant mansion. The chandelier on the ceiling shone with brilliant diamond lights. The floor was so clean one could see their own reflection. Suits of armor guarded the large central door. “This way.” She opened the door to an elegant bedroom with a drape-covered full-size bed, a toybox full of stuffed animals, a large, white grand piano, and a huge bookshelf filled to the brim with all sorts of books. A huge rug with ornate pictures of birds decorating it covered the honey-colored wooden floor. The ceiling matched the rug’s design, but on a larger scale. Another chandelier hung from the ceiling, this time with wooden birds flitting around it like a baby’s mobile. Another full-sized bed with light blue sheets lay off to the side, obviously untouched. 5 bird-free bird cages lay off to the side. Birdie paid no mind to any of this, except for the bird cages, which she grabbed baggies out of. Instead, she rushed straight ahead to another door. “This is the garden. Most of the birds stay out here.” She smiled as she opened the door, eager to see her birds again. “I’m back!” She called to the zoo of birds perched on wooden rafters and sat on the rims of elegant benches. They were everywhere, on the fountain, on the rims of hanging flower pots, on the birdhouses that lined the walls. As soon as she walked in, a tiny chick hopped to her feet. “Hey, Scraps!” She chirped, squatting down to get closer. “You should really be with your mother.” She placed the sun-colored chick by a hen’s side. “Hello, Marigold.” she cooed, turning back to Amaya. “Here.” She gave her a bag. “It’s the seeds. Just scatter them on the ground. They’ll grow to trust you.” She went back to greeting the different birds and feeding them a bit. There were many of them, mostly songbirds. Loud and quiet coos filled the garden. A band of chicks hopped up to Amaya’s feet, chirping happily. The mother hen, Marigold, watched warily from her nest, ready to make a move should the girl hurt her babies.