March 31st, 2004 - the birth of Y/N Crimson.
Two years before the First Wizarding War (1995-2006) ended, the newlyweds - Caspian and Amaryllis - welcomed a beautiful baby girl into the world. A blessing from God himself accorded upon the good Brit...
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"Good afternoon, class!"
First-year students from each house littered the lawn near the Forbidden Forest. The breeze swept the children's hair, and they stood in parallel lines — Ravenclaw and Slytherin on the left, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff on the other.
Y/N and Hermione stood in front of each other.
With grey hair that looked like frosted tips, the hawk-like woman moved through the crowd, all while adjusting her gloves. Her yellow eyes and dilated pupils swept through the cluster, each student straightening up under her gaze.
"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch."
Madam Hooch stopped between the ends of both lines, then turned around to face them. A couple of students shifted their weight. The grass underfoot was damp enough to darken the hem of a few robes. The forest behind Hooch looked every bit forbidden; the trees packed together so tight they looked like they would swallow you up if you dared to set foot.
Y/N stood with her hands at her sides, looking across the gap between the houses — then at Hermione, who stood opposite her, expression fixed and careful.
Hooch turned, facing the group. "Welcome to your first flying class!"
"Now," she said, "who here has been on a broom?"
Several hands went up at once. Y/N kept hers fixed at her sides. To her, flying was as natural as breathing. Anyone of proper breeding should know their way around a broom — and anyone of proper breeding shouldn't feel the need to announce something so trivial.
Hooch's gaze swept over the raised hands. "Fair amount. No matter if you do not know how to ride a broom — I will be here to teach you."
She pointed to the row of brooms laid out on the grass. "Pick one. Then, place it on the grass on your right."
The class broke formation in a wavering line, students moving forward in awkward clusters. Some went fast, eager enough to make mistakes. Others hung back. Y/N waited until the first rush was over, then stepped forward with the rest.
The broom nearest her looked old but well-kept; the handle was worn smooth in places where hands had clearly gripped it before. She looked at it for a second, then reached down and took it. Across from her, Hermione had picked hers up with the same focused expression she brought to books.
