Rolling hills of nothing.
Her hair was a light brown colour but not it a honeyed glowing way more like if you dropped a carton of milk in a muddy puddle and it burst and saturated the mud to a lighter brown, it didn’t look to blonde either, she often got comments on it saying it was dirty blonde and others thoroughly disagreeing, over all it was brown. she had dark eyes too, not brown in colour, more of a blue, a very dark blue, with little shreds of gold and green in there. her eyes were rounded and shiny;much like a doe.
But she could only make them look that way when she wanted, usually they looked quite average unless she decided on screwing over some old man with a weird domineering complex at the local shop.
She had a slim body type but she was toned from a years of labour on her little farm. And her hair was grown out from being cropped to her scalp, just enough so that it curled over her forehead and around her ears. Her skin was freckled and tanned also from labour outside in the sun and she constantly had some form of sunburn on the bridge of her nose, though in the winter it looked more like a blush.
Daphne Flynn or more commonly known lovingly by the very few people in her life as ‘Bobby’ lived on a high hill in Scotland in a wee house with two bedrooms one bathroom and a living/eating area plus a very old very spider infested outhouse.
She lived with her dog Bruce who was a mix between a border collie and a Irish wolfhound. She also lived with about 20 sheep total.
It wasn’t a meat farm, they harvested local wool, and sent it off to the village nearby. She rarely got visitors which was how she liked it.
She was a witch but instead of going to Hogwarts she was schooled at home by her mother, she was constantly learning with all the books her mother had left her behind.
She had never met another wizard besides her mother and the head teacher from Hogwarts, she hadn’t trusted him when he stepped into her home with his bright yellow robes and half moon glasses. He had peered at her with a knowing smile and she raised her brow back at him with an almost challenging look, her cat Ollie at the time was curled up on his lap kneading at his billowing robes.
Her mother died three years ago, So it was just her in the little farm.
The only person that she really talked to was the shop owner, Eileen McConnell, she was a short woman with flaming red hair and dark brown eyes, she had a hearing impairment so she wore a device on her left ear that helped her. She was about Bobby’s age and she was quite chirpy, always involving Bobby in her endless chatter even though she only replied in curt sentences. She loved Bruce, and the dog loved her too, always sprinting into the shop whenever Bobby made her way down to the village shop to go replenish her cupboards.
She was currently sat on her porch, cigarette in between her lips as she rubbed the dogs head next to her she was wearing a thinning tank top paired with her torn jean shorts.
She kicked around a pebble on the floor with the toe of her tattered converse, inhaling a deep breath of smoke and breathing it out of her nose.
A crack pulled her out of her daze, two men appeared in-front of her, one was hunching and wide with bright red frizzy hair and was wearing a green trench coat, he was leaning more on his right leg. the other man was obviously injured and clinging to the red haired man for dear life.
“What the fuck!” She exclaimed standing her her feet, Bruce also stood, his ears pinned to his head and his nose testing the air.
The red headed man whipped his head towards her.
“Where’s your mother girl?” He hissed. Her eyebrows pinched together.
“Dead.” She replied. The man muttered a curse under his breath, “you’re Ada’s daughter, Aye?”
She nodded. The man sighed and lumped the man off his shoulder on to the gravel.
“I’ll come back for him, don’t worry.” He rushed.
“What the fuck do you mean?” She yelled. “Who the fuck are you?” Hollered but before the last of her sentence could finish the man vanished in an instance.
She cursed and her hands burrowed through her hair, she turned towards Bruce and yelled “did you just see that?” He looked up at her then started to approach the man, she panicked.
“Ah, ah ,ah. Do not go near mystery wizards.” She pulled his collar back and took a step towards the man herself, she lightly kicked his side and he let out a pained groan.
“Fucking wizards.” She muttered.
Hoisting the man’s arms over shoulder feated a difficult task as he weighed more than he looked.
She lumped him on her sofa and laid a blanket over him, he didn’t seem to be bleeding so she didn’t see the point in looking for wounds.
She trodded to the kitchen to make some tea and by the time she was finished and back in the living room the man was fast asleep and mumbling in his slumber.
She had her cup in hand and leant over him, processing his features.
He had curly black hair, it was definitely longer than her and it curled around his face, he could’ve looked cherub like if it wasn’t for his strong nose and pointy jawline, he was beautiful she couldn’t deny it, but her type was more soft and definitely had a pair of glasses.
He was quite tall as-well, just enough that his feet rested I’ve the arm of the couch. He had a few moles dotted around his pale face, and she could notice some scars peeking out from the loose collar of his shirt.
She sighed and sat in the cozy arm chair in front of the television, she took her wand and lit a fire, and the dog curled up in front of it.
She hadn’t realised she’d fallen asleep until she blinked away the stiffness from her eyes.
“Who are you?” A voice mumbled softly.
She jumped and opened her eyes fully.
“What the fuck!” He was stood in-front of her and leaning in slightly. She pushed his face away and he leapt back.
“Don’t wake people up like that you creep.” She mumbled.
He tilted his head slightly and his eyebrows drew together “who are you?” He repeated.
“I’m Bobby, your wee wizard dropped you off here cause he knew my mum.”
“Knew?” He questioned.
“She’s dead.” She deadpanned, his eyebrows drew closer together.
“Who are you?” Bobby asked, the man straightened his back and looked down his nose at her, he’s quite skinny, she thought.
“Regulus Arcturus black.” He said with a haughty tone lifting the side of his lip into a smirk.
She pulled a face, and his smirk dropped.
“What kind of bloody name is that?”
He looked at her, his his narrowed and he drew back.
“Here’s your wand.” He held out her wand in his hand, she raised her eyebrow at him.
“Any reason why you stole it?” She asked palming the rune ingrained wood in her hand.
“Im not supposed to be here.”
She had learned that the man that had dropped Regulus of at the house was called Alistair Moody. She had recognised the man’s name from one of the last days her mother was alive, her ramblings were delirious and didn’t really make sense. So she decided to trust them for now.
She knew there was a war raging beyond the walls of her home in the wizarding world but she didn’t know how bad it was, her mother often left home for trips as a child and teenager and tell her what was going on. She was glad no one was made known of her existence, people hated the type of blood her mother was.