February 27th, 1956.
London, England.
"She is beautiful, bèl fi mwen an." Esther Zabini
smiled down upon the small baby girl in front of her.
She ghosted a finger over her baby's chubby cheeks and laughed when the sleeping newborn smiled at her.
Her husband, James Zabini smiled at his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek and a small one unto his daughter's forehead.
Even the midwives noted at how beautiful the baby was, something that would surely cause her father trouble.
Esther Zabini had met her husband, James, by chance. They both had been promised to another to continue the line of powerful Black witches and wizards within their families.
However, when they took one look at each other, they knew it was love. Esther had a gift in predicting the future by looking into another's eyes, which she saw herself marrying the man that was in front of her.
A gift that had came directly from her ancestors, which had helped them escape the hands of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.
A few tribes sent their most powerful witches and wizards in secret over to where the boats carried their stolen people, seeking revenge.
Esther's and James' ancestors had come to the island of Haiti to return enslaved Africans back to their home countries.
Word had begun to spread of a possible plague in Haiti. One that left slave-owners dead and their 'property' had vanished.
Esther and James married in secret and fled to London, seeking to escape their disapproving parents and to start a family.
The decision wasn't an easy one, they were leaving behind their family and the only place they truly could call 'Home'.
But, after having their daughter, they knew they made the right decision.
They were still a wealthy family, moving away from the city and into the countryside. Their home was filled with laugher and the sounds of small feet running.
They welcomed another daughter, Roseline Zabini, only 4 years after they had their first child. Their parents would speak to them in their native tongue, mixing in English whenever necessary.
They seemed like a perfectly normal Haitian-British family.
But then it all changed.
Their eldest daughter had begun to exhibit signs of being a witch, Roseline following closely behind her. Esther had been folding clothes when she heard her daughters' laughter, smiling softly at the sound. She had crept into their room and gasped.
Roseline was laughing along as her older sister told her the story of Yemoja, manipulating water that had came from a cup to flow above their heads.
Roseline tried to mimic her sister, only being able to pull a single drop from the cup to hover for a second before dropping back into the cup.
Their parents read them stories of the different Yoruba Gods and Goddesses, teaching them of their Nigerian ancestry.
Their parents had always ensured that their children would know of their culture, something that no one could take from them.
