After ordering your butterbeer you seated yourself at a two-person table, the scent of other beverages wafting through the warm air of the inn, and pleasantly filling your senses. You longed for the warm uplifting feeling the drink provided, especially in this weather where the air was bone-chilling and cruelly bit your face.
A figure then glided by, hooded by a thick inky cloak that flowed elegantly by their dress shoes. He, or she, then halted; about a metre away from you and the small birch table. When they spoke, it seemed to be the semi-deep voice of a woman that dripped with a foreboding tone.
"Hello, may I sit here? I'm just waiting for someone and I don't want to be alone."
You nodded hesitantly, spying a small sincere grin and a young face from beneath the hood; watching as the fairly tall woman sat on the free stool opposite you.
"I apologise for intruding, I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable."
You shook your head as if to say 'not at all', the woman's voice catching your attention once again.
"I see you like books." She gestured to the gaping canary bag, novels of all forms practically spewing from its mouth; struggling to hold them all in.
You nodded, embarrassed.
"No need to be embarrassed." She responded as if she was somehow reading your mind.
"I like books as well. In fact, I've got an intriguing tale that I can share. That is if you allow me."
A small voice in your head was demanding and repeating the words 'yes' over and over again, battling the other that was doing the exact opposite. You eventually gave in to curiosity and nodded.
You once again spotted the same grin from earlier, quickly thanking the waitress for your butterbeer before giving the mysterious woman your full undivided attention.
"Well, this tale begins forty-nine years ago, with a young teenage male. Aged fifteen with an incredible mind, a wielder of magic; just like you and me. His name was Hilary Kreisler Raine, and this is how his story began..."
