Enola Scamander grew up at Hogwarts during the reign of Grindelwald-practically abandoned there by her older brothers-Newt and Theseus. As their fame grew rampant and their involvement in the fight against Grindelwald became public, Enola's sense of...
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INCIDENTS AND IDIOTS
"I'm not entirely an idiot."
—Enola Holmes
"Put on the suit!"
"Yep!"
The faint noise of scrambling bodies reached my ears, echoing around my empty thoughts, before a voice from afar called out my name. "Enola!"
"Enola!"
My back slammed against the ground, the impact throwing me off guard. I sucked in shaky gulps of air, my stinging eyes peering up at crystal blue sky—filled with billowing branches that waved a friendly hello from above.
"Up! Get up! Again."
My mother's voice spurred me into action, and I rolled onto my front, springing to the balls of my feet.
"You must learn how to defend yourself, Enola. There will come a time where you must fight your way to victory; without the safety net of magic. You must be ready."
I raised my fists steadily, the action coming quite naturally, and my mother's hands rose to mirror my own. We were much alike, my mother and I—and at that moment, I realized we resembled each other perfectly; sweaty, dirty, and determined to make the other lose.
I lunged with a battle cry that rivaled that of the centaurs, while my mother dodged spectacularly. She laughed from her belly—a blatant cackle at my expense—that did nothing but fuel my irritation.
"Better. Again!"
We took turns throwing our punches—blocking effortlessly and sparring an arresting duel. At one point, my fist came close to thumping her face, which she blocked at the last second, cackling like a mad woman as she did so.
With a final sweep of the legs, my mother sent me hurtling towards the ground, my body acquainting itself with the dirt once more.
"One of these days," I wheezed, "I will take you down, mother."
"I'm sure you will," she responded, smiling through her teeth. A lone hand extended for me to take. My eyes surveyed it warily before I grasped it firmly, using it as leverage to hoist myself up. "Good match. I must say, you make a formidable opponent."
"Not as good as you," I sighed wistfully, brushing off the dirt and leaves clinging to my clothing.
"Of course, don't be silly. I've had far more practice. Take your failures in stride, and find delight in learning new ways to succeed." Her kind chestnut eyes twinkled at me in the afternoon sun. "Just do me a favor, would you? Beat up some of those village kids the next time they try to start something. Harder to trace back to you than underage magic, eh?"
