First Year
July 19th 1971
It was a calm and warm night when she had woken up to the sound of something being repeatedly shot at her window. They had locked her in her room for a week now, refusing to go to some stupid family dinner. She opened her eyes, and slowly sat up, glancing at the clock, 10:10pm. She had only been asleep an hour. Frowning slightly, Isabelle crawled out of bed and opened the window to her small bedroom off the side of the house her family lived in on the southern edge of Lancashire, England. She hesitated slightly before reaching out and grabbing the small envelope that had been dropped just moments ago on her windowsill.
She knew this day was coming, she had just turned eleven in May, and her mother never shut up about the idea of her first-born children finally getting their stupid Hogwarts letter.
The Macmillan’s were apart of some stupid numpty group of families called the “Sacred twenty-eight” which pretty much meant that it was important for her to be all posh and on her best behaviour all the time in order to not wind her mum up too much or else they’d lock her up in her room for weeks and pretend she didn’t exist. After a few moments of pondering over the letter, Isabelle finally turned it around and slowly began to rip open the back of the envelope, taking out the contents and reading the piece of parchment slowly and carefully.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Dear Miss. MacMillan,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
This caused Isabelle to jump up and squeal a little but before turning the page skimming the items she would need for September; a bunch of books, a set of robes, stuff for potions class, and she could bring Shadow with her. After reading the letter over a couple more times she quickly got up and ran for the door, sprinting down the stairs and into the garden where her mother was quizzing her brother, Caleb, on the constellations.
“Mum! Mum! Look, I’ve got my letter! I’ve finally gotten it!” Isabelle squealed, pushing her Hogwarts letter in her mother’s face, grinning ear to ear in excitement. “Can we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get our stuff!?” She questioned, already getting ready to read off all the stuff that she needed to get before the first of September, completely unaware of the scowl on her Mum’s lips. “Calm yourself child. Do you see your brother jumping up and down and yelling!” spat, Penelope. “You must keep yourself more put.”
Isabelle tried not to snort at this, her father was nothing like her mother. Her Father was a Scottish man, named Harold, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, in the department of magical artifacts. She thought he was a very levelheaded, and patient man. And despite what Caleb would say of him, she had never even seen her father yell. He wasn’t like her mother with her pure-blood mania, constantly fussing over the way they look, and act in public. While both of her parents were pure blooded, Penelope came from the Jacobsford line, and was married into the Sacred-Twenty-Eight causing her whole ‘I need to prove our family deserves the title.’ Act.
“Sorry Mother.” She sighed, before taking a few steps back and folding the letter and shoving it into her pocket.
“Caleb, please go inside and get your father, we must discuss what we expect of you both when you arrive at Hogwarts.” Penelope said, all so softly before swiftly moving towards the house. Oh goody, a family meeting she thought bitterly, going to move to follow her mother before she stopped in her tracks, almost crashing into her mother. “Isabella, I am not trying to be cruel. You really must learn to calm your emotions; they’re only going to do you harm in the future if you cannot learn to control your outbursts.” And with that, her mother stepped inside and made way for the front room.
-
September 1st 1971
Caleb shook his head before turning and grabbing his trunk from underneath his bed. Bella was always getting all the attention, acting like a complete muppet all the time. He understood his mother’s stress, she wasn’t born in the elite, and she was always being watched by his Aunt Walburga, and Uncle Orion, especially now that they were going to Hogwarts.
He knew that his father was very clear that he expected them to both end up in Slytherin with their cousins, but Caleb thought that was a ridiculous expectation, he knew that he would end up in Gryffindor. He was a lion, after all. Always standing up for his younger siblings when they made a mistake, and never backing down from a fight. He wasn’t like his father, who was cruel and harsh. Making sure they knew his expectations; get top marks, get into Slytherin, make them proud. But his mothers’ expectations were much, much worse.
“Caleb dear, stick with Sirius. Don’t allow him to stray too far. Poor Walburga has her hands full with that boy.” She would tut, as she fussed over his hair, or the way his robes would slightly hang over his hands, complaining she paid too much money to have them not fit right. She expected him to be able to influence his cousin, as if Caleb even wanted to be in Slytherin himself. He barely respected the Elite, never mind wanted to become like them. If it was up to him, he would stay as far away from the Black’s as he possibly could. Bella on the other hand, got the other side of the fussing, their father was never as harsh on her as he was to Caleb. Saying that when he dies, she wouldn’t be the one to take over as the head of the family, that was a man’s job. That fell to Caleb.
“Bells, Sweetheart! Come give Daddy a hug goodbye, you’re going to make me so proud!” He heard his father shout from the bottom of the stairs and cringed. As if either of them was going to make him proud he thought bitterly.Isabelle would probably end up in Hufflepuff or something, she was so daft sometimes; always being cheeky and winding their mother up so bad that her bad mood could be seen for weeks afterwards, and he’d have to act even more like a toff than he did usually. He finally finished packing, and closed the lid of his trunk, standing in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection.
“you’ve got this Caleb.” He heard himself whisper, before he straightened out his robes, and ran an anxious hand through his long brown hair, plastering a forced smile onto his face before grabbing his trunk and making his way down the stairs.