Mrs. Erne, of number 7, Lancer street, would like to say she was perfectly normal, thank you very much. Prof. Erne and little Eve, however, loved her strange, imaginative nonsense. Mrs. Alice Erne was a writer. She often wore her red hair in an untidy bun whether she was taking Evelyn to School, making dinner, or clicking away on her moody laptop. Her small figure contrasted with Mr. Erne, a tall rugby player turned professor in philosophy and ethics. The two of them, when our story begins, had been married for fourteen years, yet Owen Erne had yet to discover Alice Erne's greatest secrets.
In their cozy little house, Professor Erne graded his students' papers, occasionally muttering "good point" and "Does she even know what she's trying to say?" to himself.
Upstairs, Alice finished her story for Evelyn, just like she did every night, without fail. "...and so the three witches apparated right back home, where they could finally finish their butterbeer in peace."
Alice Erne sighed and gazed at her daughter tucked in bed. Asleep, little Eve was still her baby, but next morning she would be an eleven-year-old Evelyn who would receive- No, Alice did not want to think about the letter. If only no letter from Hogwarts would arrive, just like hers never did, and little Eve would still be there each night asking for stories.
But Mrs. Erne knew the letter would come. Eve had caused accidental magic ever since she was a year old and got the coffee thermos into the crib. She had made flowers float in the air just last year, making Alice certain her daughter was, indeed, a witch. Alice sat there just a little longer, wishing tomorrow would never come.
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Evelyn Erne - Ravenclaw Nerd
FanfictionIt has been 12 years since Voldemort's defeat. Evelyn Erne grew up hearing about Hogwarts, about magic, but she didn't think it was real. That all changed on her eleventh birthday. Now she knows Hogwarts is real, and in need of help. Can she, a soc...