MAUVE VIOTTO is in her sixth year at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a widely-loved Ravenclaw. She is a protector of those she cares about, and treats most people with relative kindness despite her sassy attitude. She's a free-spirit...
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Being home with my family is something I enjoy dearly. I don't think a lot about it, but I truly do treasure the time I spend with them. My mom, Alesea Viotto, floods the house with her energetic energy. I doubt the house is quiet for even a second, including the time when I'm away at Hogwarts. My father is almost the opposite— quiet, and typically kept to himself. Kaveus Viotto is a very reserved individual, which was odd considering the pure wizard blood that runs through his veins.
Our house isn't a Manor like something the wealthy Pureblood wizards and witches are accustomed to, but rather, it's a spacious, two-storey home. With white painted walls and large windows, I suppose we could come off as wealthy. It's not that we were far from it, but the term itself seems too overconfident for us to use.
My mother adores decor, and spends a bulk of the money she earns on new decorations for our lovely house. There's always something new every time I return home.
I had just woken from a nap, an odd, comforting feeling as I lay in my childhood room. My mom is in the living room when I walk down the stairs, and I can almost predict the look of excitement she'll have when she turns her head towards me as I ascend down the steps.
"Finally have time to chat with your mother? You've been home for almost three hours now, and all you've done is slept, you know." She teases, wagging a finger in a motherly manner.
I shake my head and let out a laugh. "I've got two weeks stuck at home with you, mum." I grab my small black bag that's sitting on the marble counter and sling it over my shoulder. "You can bombard me with questions later, I ought to visit uncle Oz." I announce, earning a look of false-disbelief.
She huffs, "alright, go off and spend time with my idiotic brother instead of the woman who literally birthed you." She wipes away a non-existent tear, shooing me off. "Be safe, dear."
"I always am," I snort, waving goodbye before I shut the door behind me.
My uncle's shop isn't a heaving distance from our house; in fact, it's quite near the half-way point between my house and Alyssa's. She lives only a few neighbourhoods away. When I get to the shop, by foot, the familiar chime on attached to the doorway signals my entry. My uncle looks up from the register, clearly expecting to greet a customer, but seems pleasantly surprised when he realizes it's his niece (his favourite niece, on a good day).
"Little V! Look at you, strutting in like one of em models. Feels forever since I last seen ya!" He walks around the barrier of the desk and pulls me into a bear hug. I laugh, uncle Osmond and my mother could be noted as siblings from miles away. In addition to both being a splitting image of their mother, they also share many of the same qualities; such as, being the most talkative people in the room. Christmases with mum's side of the family is always a loud one.
"Hi, uncle Oz." I smile as we pull apart. "How have you been? The store looks absolutely dashing!" I comment in awe as I take in the expansions of new products filled on the wooden shelves.
