𝑭𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑾𝑨𝒀 ⇢ Sebastian Sallow

THE CAVALIER TWINS DIDN'T BELIEVE IN FATE – they didn't believe in destiny, magic and all those other over exaggerated stories that plagued the minds of the weaker kind. Instead, they believed in labour, they believed in hard work and the satisfaction that came when a task was accomplished. Somehow, this made things easier. No expectations and no disappointments, those were the values the pair had been taught by their mother as children, and although Nora's face was nothing but a distant memory living in the back of the twins' minds, her lessons were still heeded by the siblings.

Work was all they had, it was the only thing they knew, and it was also the only reason why the twins hadn't been thrown out onto the street after their mother passed. Work paid the bills, kept a roof over their heads and provided for their meals. For them, it was enough.

Or at least it was supposed to be.

And yet, when the letter arrived on a rainy Tuesday morning, Léna's eyes sparkled. She was the younger one, the one's whose prospects in life should have been greater than working at the library downtown, the one who spent her nights reading stories of faraway places near the dying embers of the fire, the one who silently dreamed of more. Paul was different, he didn't mind spending his days wasting away at the pub and serving drinks he couldn't even taste. He didn't mind working over time so he could afford the good canned soup.

Paul never wanted to be anything else than what he already was. Léna, on the other hand, had always craved for something else. Something more. All the nights she laid awake, a book on her lap while she carefully read each word, trying to fly away to a world that didn't exist but that she longed for anyway... it all seemed to come crashing down on that single morning.

The Cavalier twins didn't believe in fate, but when the owl dropped the neat envelope at their door, something inside of them stirred. It was as a flame deep within their souls was finally awakened, the embers of the fire turning to a roaring blaze. The silver-headed twins might have not believed in fate, but fate certainly did believe in them.

Léna sighed, loading what was left of their belongings atop the carriage. The bags were heavy in her hands, but the girl pushed through the exhaustion and shoved what was left of the luggage in the back. One of the men – professor Fig, she guessed – had volunteered to do it himself, but the idea of letting a stranger handle her luggage with magic didn't sit well with her. Léna was excited about the trip, as was her brother despite his stoic expression and blank face, but the thought of magic was still too new to make either of them feel comfortable.

Professor Fig didn't seem to mind, opting to let the pair of twins handle things on their own while he waited by the carriage. It seemed like forever ago since the Cavalier twins had received their Hogwarts letter, yet it was less then a month ago since the owl dropped the envelope along with a set of specific instructions. Neither Léna nor Paul had been prepared to hear about the truth of their lineage, especially when so many secrets still lingered around their mother's death. Professor Fig hadn't dug much into the issue, but he had confirmed something both siblings had suspected for a while. Nora – their mother with whom they fled France with – was a witch. A pure-blood, no less. It was their family legacy, a magical bloodline which should have faded centuries ago but that somehow prevailed through the darkest times of history.

"Are you sure this is what we want?" Léna asked in a hushed whisper, leaning against the side of the car while pulling on her brother's coat "Maybe it's not too late to turn back and give up on this whole thing"

Paul furrowed his brow, his expression unreadable even as he pulled away from his sister. Paul was slightly taller than Léna, his white hair perfectly matching hers while his skin was a shade darker. Although they were twins, the Cavalier siblings were not identical. Being the oldest, Paul was the reasonable one. He was clear-headed and calm, always one step ahead yet he didn't come off as conceited of egotistical. Meanwhile, Léna was spirited, a distracted soul with far more dreams and ideas than any other woman her age.

"Come on, sis" he began, his tone glib "We both know the time for that has passed. Besides, what exactly do we have to get back to?" he turned towards their small flat, a one-bedroom space above the butcher shop.

The rent was cheap, but the smell of fresh meat permeated the space nearly on a daily basis. It was the only thing they were able to afford, their large manor on the outskirts of town repossessed not long after Nora passed. Léna pressed her lips into a thin line, mulling over her brother's words. Paul was right; they didn't have anything left here – nothing of value, at least. If this Professor Fig was right, then they had a whole new world waiting for them, a world where being different was a gift rather than a curse.

Léna sighed, catching a strand of her whiteish hair between her fingers. She was tired of being the local rarity, of constantly being chased by children who only showed up at the bookshop so they could catch a glimpse of the whitehaired freak show. Fair hair was odd enough as it was in these parts, but completely white? Léna and her brother had been enduring the harassment for years, yet Fig didn't even notice. Like it was normal.

Paul sighed, expression softening.

"Look, I know this is hard, but we have to do this" he stepped forward, grabbing his sister's shoulder in a reassuring manner "There's nothing left for us here" he eyes the butcher shop, his cerulean eye catching the owl perched atop the sign, its dark orbs watching them with a curious stare "We don't belong here"

Léna smiled, the corners of her mouth twisting upwards.

"You're right. I'm tired of being a freak" she glanced towards the professor, who was now petting the air like a madman "Let's do this"