eternity | harry potter ✓

I. THE BEGINNING

EMMALINA HAD ALWAYS thought that her life was seemingly normal. Although she was told by her aunt that her mother had sadly passed, and she had no recollection of knowing her father, she never felt as if she were an outcast in anyway shape or form. She didn't have many friends as she lived far out in the countryside, but it never seemed to bother her. Emmalina would spend most of her time reading, even though she never actually understood what was going on in the things she was reading. The majority of her books included things such as witches, wizards, and historic battles. In her mind, enjoyable to read, but difficult to understand why at such a young age, she'd been rewarded with them.

Primary school life treated her awfully. The monotone buzz of several-hundred voices hummed like an orchestra of deadbeat droids. To say that Emmalina was happy when her primary school life ended was certainly an understatement. She was over the moon. The bustling corridors and cluttered classrooms were only two of the things on the never ending list of reasons of why she hated it so much. Although she was without a doubt, the smartest in her class, she felt as if primary school just wasn't challenging her enough.

    So anyway, the books. For example, 'An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms.' Emmalina was given this book at the age of eight years old, as her aunt believed that it would shower her with a lot of knowledge that most eight year olds wouldn't have. It was quite simply a book about charms from the eighteenth century, and how they can come into great use in challenging situations.

  But, how would this be of any use in the hands of Emmalina?

'All in good time' was a phrase that was used quite often in her household. Anytime that she'd ask out of sheer curiosity, her aunt never told her what she so desperately wanted to hear. Of course, it aggravated her, but she knew that there had to have been a sincere and genuine reason as to why her aunt was keeping her in the dark about it all.

   That was, until the first of September, 1991.

* * *

I felt something begin to continuously tickle my nose, as my eyes fluttered open, I noticed that it was none other than my cat Picatrix, although she usually answered to Trixie. She began to purr loudly, as I gently stroked the top of her head. Dogs are portrayed as a mans best friend, but Picatrix was certainly mine.

"You always have to wake me up early, don't you?" I joked, delicately shaking my head, before climbing lazily out of bed.

She was a relatively powerful, sturdy and compact cat, having a broad chest, strong thick-set legs with rounded paws and a medium-length, blunt-tipped tail. Her coat was the shade of a faded, shiny grey.

      My Aunt Mable, had just recently purchased Picatrix from a place I couldn't even begin to explain. The only explanation I was given, was that it was a rather magical and extraordinary place, filled with people who were just like me.

That part however, I didn't understand. I didn't understand how I was different to everyone else. I was just an ordinary eleven year old girl, who peacefully lived in the countryside with her aunt. It seemed like somewhat of a stereotypical norm in my personal opinion, but she certainly thought otherwise.

As I grew older, my aunt would always purchase at least one book for me to read. The majority of them included true tales on many different witches and wizards; I never quite had an understanding as to why she did this.