[Book 1]
❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭. ❞
Serena grew up well sheltered in a Muggle suburb with her mother. Little did she know what horrible past lies behind her well-known last name. Her life, which was as...
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• Serena Black •
„The same way there are things we want to remember, there are things we just want to forget"
Winter was now coming upon them in leaps and bounds. The sky took on a blinding, opalescent white and the muddy terrain was shrouded in glittering frost.
On one of those mornings, Serena spotted snowflakes prancing innocently around her window. The snowfall had thickened so much during the day that she could barely see further than a few feet. The snow covered the grass, shrubs and statues with white and depressed the branches of the trees. She couldn't deny that it was a pretty sight, but while most of the students were looking forward to a day in Hogsmeade, she had to resign herself to the idea of having to stay in the castle.
Wrapped up in cloaks and scarves, Ron and Hermione made their way to the village after breakfast. Serena was also able to spot Hailey with a small group of Hufflepuffs as she tried to walk back to the tower with Harry. Halfway there, however, they were suddenly stopped by two redheads, "Shhh.... Harry! Serena!" hissed Fred and George as they peered out from behind the statue of a hunchbacked one-eyed witch.
"What are you doing?" inquired Harry, immediately puzzled, "How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?"
"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," Fred returned in reply, winking mysteriously. When the two third graders didn't move an inch, however, the twin made a prompting gesture in the direction of an empty classroom.
With puzzled expressions, Harry and Serena followed them in before George closed the door behind them and turned to them with a beaming face, "Here's an early Christmas present for you for being so beautifully behaved."
Serena merely snorted and rolled her brown eyes. Meanwhile, Fred pulled something out of his coat and placed it on the desk in front of them. It was a large, square, violently battered sheet of parchment. Not a word was written on it. Serena assumed it was one of their jokes and just stared at the parchment, not quite knowing whether to laugh.
"What's that supposed to be?" finally Harry asked the obvious question in the room, to which George lovingly stroked the crumpled parchment and replied respectfully, "That, Harry, is the secret of our success."
"It's a wrench, giving it to you," his brother remarked plaintively, giving a sigh, "but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."
"And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?" echoed Harry impatiently, seemingly without any hope that this parchment might actually be useful to him. Serena didn't think so. The twins had already impressed her with less, and she didn't think that merely because she had been madly in love with George in her first year.
