Seven Solo Closed

30th July, 2024
Tuesday, 8:24AM

The chilly breeze of the morning was more haunting than the ghosts that roamed around the fields in the middle of the night. Every gush of wind pierced through the wooden walls of the caravan and Eldritch had woken up from his bed because of it. He let out a long yawn that felt like it was going to keep his jaw wide open for the rest of his life, unclenching it afterwards felt like he had just fixed every bone in his body. He rubbed his eyes using his knuckles and made his way to what one would call the living room - except it was dead most of the time as barely anyone ever spent time in it. Surprisingly, he found his grandmother setting a few planks of wood afire with a swish of her wand, a ball of flame emerging from its tip, igniting it alight. She noticed Eldritch walking in by the glaring side-eye that she gave him, but didn't utter a word. It was just the crackling of fire and the wind howling, arguing like a married couple.

Despite Summer being at its peak, England persisted to remain just a tiny bit cold, especially in the mornings. Eldritch preferred it over the sweaty heat - especially since coming back from a month in Spain. His skin had burnt to a crispy red, but luckily one of his aunts had a magical cream that tended to his burns like they were never there in the first place. But all the reminiscing was abruptly interrupted when Grandmother Scylla spoke up.
"I received this today." She spoke calmly, her voice croaky and ancient. She raised her hand holding a letter. A red sigil waxed to seal it locked. Eldritch slowly walked up to her and took it from her hand as she offered it.
"I presume you know what it is?"
"My Hogwarts letter? Auntie Priscilla hasn't stopped reminding me about it every single day ever since the holidays."
"Yes, my daughter tends to never shut up about anything."
Eldritch didn't like it when his grandmother was mean when talking about others, especially his favourite aunt, though the way she said it like it was sitting at the edge of her sharp tongue made it somewhat comical. Still, his face didn't move. Hastly, he cracked open the sigil with a gentle pop, taking out the small piece of parchment inside that was neatly folded into three. On it was an introductory formal letter welcoming him to the upcoming school year at Hogwarts and just below it was a list of things he had to buy. Robes, hats, cauldrons and whatnot. But most importantly, a wand. Eldritch had been waiting for one of his own for what felt like an eternity. The idea of holding a fancy stick, flicking and swishing it around and about ever so majestically filled him with an indescribable kind of excitement. Which soon died down when his grandmother started to rearrange the yellow table he so awfully despised. He knew what was coming and it wasn't because of the creepy, nightmares that haunted him every night. She clicked her fingers pointing at the chair in front of her, as a deck of cards started to shuffle rapidly. Eldritch took his seat despite wishing he could refuse and yet, without uttering a single complaint, his grandmother hissed at him for apparently looking too grumpy.

"Seven cards, for each year. I believe that's only fitting." She spoke calmly, her eyes closed and both of her hands clasped together. Seventy-eight cards started flying across the room, but she stopped them at a halt when she slowly raised her hand in the air and a card descended onto the table, facing down, not revealing itself yet - not until the witch chose to - and the witch had no interest in wasting time.