𝑨 𝑳𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑶𝒘𝒏 • 𝗙. 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘆

• 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 •

In case you need a reference for the outfit 😚

Enjoy!!

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The sound of chittering birds, the gentle whoosh of the wind from the open window, the sounds of morning New York traffic, darkness. My eyes are closed. I gradually pry them open and take in the calm atmosphere of my bedroom. As I inhale the crisp air provided by the houseplants around me, I hear my mother's soft, comforting voice coming from outside my cracked door. She doesn't speak loudly. I don't jump when I hear her soothing, melodic tone speak.

"Darling, It's time to get up. You'll be leaving soon and I still need your help with some last minute things in the shop." She informs me, a pretty smile gracing her features. She is, despite age creeping over her appearance, still very beautiful.

"Of course Mama, I'll be out just as soon as I get dressed." I call, my American accent is a stark contrast from her elegant, British one.

She never lost the soft, slightly posh edge to her inflection from her girlhood in London. Myself, on the other hand, you could tell I stuck out like a sore thumb in a room next to her. She is my mother in every sense of the meaning, but when words spill from my mouth with a hint of a long, drawled out New York accent, you would think I was adopted by the dirty streets and subways instead of the most intuitive witch to reside on this side of the Atlantic.

With that, she gently closes the door and leaves me to get ready. I heave myself up and sigh as I pull away from the comforting trap of my sheets, swing my legs over, and stand. A small shiver runs up my spine when my bare feet hit the chilled floor. I step onto the cream-colored shag area rug in the middle of the room, and stretch my body as if reaching for heaven, and then for hell. With every movement, I feel sleep leaving my body and being replaced by energy and excitement. Today, I'm that much closer to real school.

Don't get me wrong, I've always loved my life as it is, being homeschooled and helping my mother run her coffee shop- while she teaches me all she knows about magic after the doors close. But I've always longed to attend a real school, make friends and enemies, and learn as much as I can.

I step closer to my bedside table, and my hand instinctively snakes around the handle of my wand. It feels so comfortable in my hand, like it was made to fit my hand only. I look at it, for the first time in a long time really admiring the carved wooden vines that wind all the way up to the tip, dotted with little green crystals that made it undoubtedly mine. I never truly took a minute to think about what my life would be like without magic, if I wasn't a witch. It's a part of my life, and I couldn't imagine it any different, nor would I want to.

I cast a simple charm to tame my unruly hair. Once I swish my wand over the crown of my head, it turns from wild ends sticking up in all directions to gracefully bold, ringlet curls that cascade around my shoulders and down my back, reaching all the way to the middle of my thighs.

Making my way to my small bathroom, I wash my face and examine my features in the mirror. Many have compared my extraordinary jet black curls to several different things. Personally, I think it's similar to that one redheaded princess from a muggle movie I once watched, but just longer, and darker. The thing about me that catches the attention of passersby, however, is my eyes. My right eye is a deep, rich chocolate brown. While the left is a contradictory ocean blue.

I've gotten countless gushing compliments on my strange, unnatural eyes, and many strangers prodding me with the belief that it was simply a colored contact. So, I can't help it when there are some days that I glue them to the sidewalk as I pass by, so I don't have to meet the stares.

I step into my closet and pause for a moment, looking around. I decided to slide on a white, flowy dress with layers and colorfully embroidered flowers that reached just above my knees. Securing a leather corset-belt around my waist, I paired the look with dainty black flats and called it a day.

My gaze fell around my room for one final time in what seemed was going to be an eternity, but I knew would fly by, and I couldn't help the feeling in my chest of forgetting something. Even though every important belonging I would need was already waiting for me downstairs.

So, I shook my head a little, pinched myself lightly on the bicep to make sure that this was truly happening right now, and pulled the door shut with a ragged breath. I exited down the hall towards the stairs, which led to a door in the back corner of the kitchen in my mom's cozy little coffee shop. Stepping out into the shop I looked around for my mother to find her wiping the last table, she looked up at me and a blend of playfulness and bittersweet content overcame her.

"Oh my darling, I can't believe you're really leaving!" She tearfully exclaimed, coming to engulf me in a hug.

"Mama!" I groaned, though my sentence was cut off by the air being crushed out of me from the force of her embrace, "It's only a semester! I'll be home for Christmas!" I wheezed out the rest of my sentence.

"I know, but I'll still miss you too much!" She whimpered, a stray tear finding its way down her cheek, with the impending shine of others brimming her green eyes. She released me from her grip and we began to walk together, arms linked, toward the living room.

"Oh no, don't cry, you'll make me cry." I mumbled, trailing off when my voice quivered, the unwanted emotion made my throat ache when I swallowed the lump so I could speak once more. My usual composure threatening to shatter, I continued,

"I'll write you all the time, and you'll know all the latest gossip." I chuckled. A little pained noise escaped me when we reached the fireplace, my trunk sitting next to the jar of floo powder that loomed over our tearful parting like a sneering shadow.

" Thank you for everything, Mama. I wouldn't be able to do this without you- " Taking a slow, shaky breath, my hand slipped from hers as I backed into the fireplace, "I love you."

She said it back, tears freely streaming her soft face as I reached a shaking hand into the jar.

"Mrs. Figg's." I spoke the name clearly and threw the powder down. I felt the green swirling warmth envelop me, and with a final wave I was gone, off to start a new chapter.

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Sorry for the short chapter! They get longer and much better as the story progresses!

xoxo
Shelby🌿