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WILLOW WORDSWORTH WAS A REMARKABLE PERSON. A girl glued together from old poetry, a bunch of Beatles lyrics and guitar tunes with an entire galaxy in her mind. Her thoughts were always racing, making it almost impossible for her to find a moment of complete peace.
Willow was the daughter of Matilda Scamander, daughter of the infamous Newt Scamander. Her grandfather's legacy could be a heavy burden at times ( speaking of expectations that were too high ) ── how could she possibly live up to the man, who had written Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them and who had helped the great Albus Dumbledore to bring down Gellert Grindelwald? She knew that she couldn't. So she didn't try. Willow eventually turned away from the wizarding world, growing fond of her father's world, who was a muggle. She fell in love with the muggles' art. Poetry, music . . . everything. She even found a way to occupy her mind, beginning to write down incoherent words until they were merging into what Willow wanted to say.
And she continued to write. Even when she had to go to Hogwarts. Suddenly she was thrust into this strange world again, leaving everything behind she was passionate about. Willow felt out of place. She missed the muggle world, she missed her home. However, it wasn't that Willow didn't enjoy being a witch. She did. And she was an extraordinary one as well.
After some time she grew into that role, especially after she took Care of Magical Creatures as a subject, quickly starting to adore the fantastic beasts her grandfather had written about. Apparently, it just ran in her family line, the love for these creatures. Willow was happy. She still enjoyed the time she was spending in the muggle world, but after all she got the best of both worlds.
It wasn't until her sixth year that things changed. Often, when Willow closed her eyes, dreadful images would flicker up, causing the girl to wake up gasping, shivering and covered in a layer of sweat. Willow was convinced that her mind was playing tricks on her when eventually some of the events she saw became reality. And what she saw some nights worried her so much that she got anxious, her mind was racing non-stop, making it hard for her to cope.
Willow Wordsworth knew that she would never find peace. That was until she made aquaintance with someone, who was convinced himself that he could never find peace, in the gloomy light of a dusty bookstore. However, life is harsh and things get complicated and perhaps they were doomed from the very beginning . . .
