❝ MERLIN'S GHOST! ❞
❝ I MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRONG. ❞
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Albany Bronwen was no Chosen One by any means, but being haunted by the ghosts of the greatest sorcerer of all time and a former king had to count for something, right?
❃ in which a lone...
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THEY SAY THAT WHAT'S MEANT TO be will always find its way. To that, Albany Bronwen said, "suck a toe."
Truth be told, the girl didn't care for destiny or fate. For generations, her family had been obsessed with the notion, but as the years passed, she found herself less and less impressed. The idea that her future was ruled by things out of her control wasn't exactly an idea she was comfortable with. In fact, the only destiny she was concerned about at the moment was missing the train. The annual tradition of the only Bronwen girl being remarkably late to the platform had yet to reach its end.
Albany usually blamed her mother, who seemed to enjoy spending twelve years on her hair and make-up every time they went out in public. This time, though she wouldn't dare admit it aloud, it was probably her own. Waiting until the morning of the train's departure to pack her trunk wasn't exactly her brightest idea. In fact, such ideas were probably the reason she wasn't a Ravenclaw.
Not that she'd ever been expecting to be sorted as a Ravenclaw. No, her family had all been Slytherin as far back as the records went. She wasn't sure why they bothered putting on the hat anymore.
"Albany," her mother was calling, just as she had turned her back to her parents, prepared to fight her way through the crowd. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"
What Albany had been going to do was board the train before it departed the station. She gazed wistfully at the red express engine, trying to assure herself that it was only whistling numerous times in succession for the fun of it, before whipping around to face her parents.
Mr and Mrs Bronwen were staring at her expectantly, and looked almost upset. Albany's relationship with her parents had never been the smoothest - she got along with them alright, but that was about as far as it went. Too many old beliefs, expectations, and family situations that were less than ideal had put a bit of a split between generations. Nevertheless, she bit her cheek and stepped forward into an awkward group hug, itching to go.
"Write to us plenty, won't you?" her mother insisted anxiously, as her daughter began to slowly step back to her trolley.
"Yes, dear, we love you," her father added, eyes shining with emotion behind round glasses.
"Bye!" Albany shouted to them, though was unsure if they heard her over another high-pitched whistle from the train. She turned her back to her family once again and began to battle her way through the swarm of other parents gathered, some crying, some waving, all of them in the way.
Her raven-dark hair had been hastily brushed through in her morning rush, but was already closer to resembling a bird's nest as she shoved her trolley forward. She curled her lip at a small child who had nearly been bowled over as he took his time to saunter out of her path. She wondered vaguely where Faith was in all this; naturally when she needed her most, the one person at Hogwarts she properly spoke to was nowhere to be seen.
