Prolougue

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It was a balmy Sunday afternoon; sunny, yet it was that warm kind of sun. The kind that didn't roast you like a thanksgiving turkey but buttered up your skin and made everything in life just a little bit better. Selene was sipping ginger tea with Mrs. Hamm, laughing about something or other, while they gazed out at the old woman's beloved garden.
  "Tes fleures sont très magnifique Madame Hamm"
  "Selene- what did we say, speaking English all the time will help you learn."
   "Je ne veux pas"
   "Fine, but your mother will have both our heads."
      The young girl grunted, the fear of her mother forcing her submission.
    "Ugh, alright"
Selene Kériet was a French fish in a British ocean, only conceding and swimming in the right direction when Mrs. Hamm asked her to. The woman who lived in the adjacent house to her own had quickly become like her mother, as her real one couldn't be around enough to act like one. Working a full time job at St. Mungos and supporting a child all on her own meant that Estelle wasn't often there. Even though that point of her life was when Selene needed her the most, moving to a different country wasn't exactly a walk in the park.

     Of course Selene didn't even really know why  the two had moved to this 'cloudy hell hole full of racists', as her mother would put it. Every time she would bring it up to ask, Estelle Kériet would simply respond with;

"Well, your father died. I was afraid. It's... good, for us- the change."


    Selene knew that just like herself, her mother had no idea why they had moved. Her father had died suddenly, that much she knew. But whenever she questioned how or even exactly when, her mind drew a blank. She could often hear Estelle late at night sobbing in her room, asking endlessly
    "Why can't I remember you? Darling, I'm so sorry I can't remember"

   Selene found herself in an odd situation. On one hand, she was terribly confused, why couldn't she or her mother remember her own father's death? And secondly, an owl had just flown in and seemed to now be perched on her head.

Obliviate- Theseus ScamanderWhere stories live. Discover now