Chapter 1
Sitting at the average sized family table, Inside the small quaint log cabin, sat a witch jokingly writing all of the different things her tombstone might say if she did die from the dragon pox virus. Like so many others who had contracted the virus, this witch seemed a little under the weather, but for the most part really couldn't see what the big deal was all about. Nor could she understand how so many witches and wizards had perished from something as comparable to the common flu that many a muggle gets. However this witch also had the common sense to remember that said common flu also killed many of the muggle senior population each year.
Putting down the muggle pen the witch usually kept on her person, she checked the fire, the muggle way. A recommendation by the ministry and Saint Mungos for all of those who had contracted the dragon pox virus. "No magic!" She tried to deepen her voice to sound like the minister's "magical depletion is a very real side effect of the virus" she mocked. Today would mark day one of ten days the witch was required to isolate.
She had picked a tiny log cabin in the bush that the ministry had offered to her for the ten day period. ".....The cabin was handed over to the ministry during the first Wizarding war and has been up kept by a ministry elf….." the witch on the outside of the isolation bubble charm drowns on about the locations that were available for her to isolate in. All she had to do was pick a place, spend ten boring days and she would be free to return to work and her very simple routine life.
Unsure what spurred the witch into action a moment later, she all but yelled at the medi witch that she wanted the tiny log cabin in the middle of nowhere. This way, at least her familiars would enjoy the wide open space and she could adventure outside into the warm spring air. Or at least that was what she had expected when the picture available of the space looked bathed in warm sunlight, had green springing up and out from every growing thing. What she ended up with was a very different reality.
When the elf had shown up beside her isolation bubble to ask if it was alright to gather the essentials from her flat for her, the witch hesitated only a moment to think about what she might need. The elf had a pen and quill materialize in the bubble for the witch to write on, half the list already pre completed. Definitely wasn't this elfs first time on the job. Adding her familiars necessary items to the list and a few snacks she might like from her own cupboard she indicated the list was complete. The elf and the writing items all disappeared with a small Crack and the witch had nothing to do but sit on the floor with her two familiars and wait. Later that day when the elf returned, she was relieved to hear that the cabin had been cleaned and set up for her use. The elf explained the process to the witch, stating "Is full ten days of isolatings little miss must do, tomorrow will counts as first days. If any wizards or witches appear at the cabin, the wards will be forcing thems to be stuck in isolations too" the elf had given her side eye and perked an eyebrow as if waiting for the witch to seem bashful.
Thing is, this witch didn't have a wizard, or even another witch to be caught sneaking in and out of quarantine. If you took into consideration that this witch was on loan from the Canadian ministry, to the British ministry In hopes of helping them solve the diminishing familiar bonds being made by British magical folk. Most of the British population had an owl, but they were trained for post and hardly ever had a familiar bond grow to fruition with a witch or wizard. As a witch who specialized in the knowledge of those bonds, had the ability to see them and was able to provide insight not many had ever done before her. This witch had been packed up from her desk and apartment and on the first international portkey before she could say timbits, at least once the British finally realized they had a problem that is.
Which was about six months ago, it really had come at the best time. Having just gotten out of a crapshoot of a relationship and being bored with life, this was a new adventure and she would make the best of it. Her luck however, stated differently. Once this witch had arrived at the British ministry, it became very clear that many things were upside down in Britain.
The minister set her up with her own small office across the hall from the department of magical creatures that took up the rest of the floor. Arriving daily at 8 am and working til about 6pm every night in a completely different part of the world was definitely not helping her social life.
So when the little elf implied that any witch or wizard trying to visit her during her isolation would then be required to isolate, the little witch laughed. She had not made any friends yet since arriving six months prior, let alone any one to date. Of course the elf just seemed more suspicious after the witch had finally finished laughing. The witch was already holding the portkey in her hand, a solid iron key, while half listening to the rest of the elfs speal about quarantine. ".....ten full days…… no magic whatsoever….. bell on the wall if you need something….. warming charms in place…… anyone in must stay in….. the portkey will unlock the house….. the wood stores, fridge, potion cupboard and pantry will all refill every two days….. enjoy this time with your familiars and relax….. wash your hands….. health potions are vital to help you fight this off….." the elf rambled on for a solid 15 minutes, the witch was tired and was only worried about holding the key, her mainecoon snuggled into her messenger bag and her stocky blue heeler in her arms. The last time they had used a port key it was international and all three of them had hurled after. Hoping that this being a nice local portkey would make it easier on them,.
Soon the key warmed in her hand and she felt the familiar spinning squeeze, pulling her from behind her navel around and around the key. This was supposed to be a local portkey, it definitely did not feel local. The portkey was too long of a trip to be local, once the key started to cool and the spinning dropped Vicki and her companions. All three of them sprawled on the ground upchucking their lunch, if that was anything to go by. Realization washed over the witch causing anger and concerned as they were all waist deep in snow.