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Bustling students, ties which were loosened around the scampering kids necks. Older men and women, chatting amongst their friendship groups about days gone by, memories from old Hogwarts houses, or any school house in fact. People came from all over, visiting the quaint old village in the Scottish Highlands. In Between them all, caught in some protective wrap of instability to move on, was Winifred Cartworth.Β
Old friends came by, sometimes. Poppy frequented the inn, stopping by for a night for well-needed rest, before setting back off on her travels, saving magical creatures whenever the brilliant girl could. Amit seemed to have stopped by whenever Poppy did, as of recently, with adjoining rooms used. Although the pair clearly had a long way to go until they realised their similarities, it brought a fond grin to Winnieβs face to watch the pair stutter over words to one another - especially Amit. He could be incredibly obvious.
Leander stopped by, sometimes, too. He had a fiance now, a woman who seemed so quiet, and so quietly people-watched the crowds of people whenever they stopped by, that Winifred almost considered her to be sly. Leander was happy beside her, though, so Winnie didnβt have it in herself to point out Miss Felicityβs watchful glares.
Natsai visited when she could, a budding young auror. Sometimes sheβd bring her mother, and Winifred would bring hers, too, and the four of them made polite conversation across one of the pub tables. Mudiwa always pat Nattyβs cheek affectionately, whispering praise and joy of her daughter becoming someone brilliant, the pride her father surely held, up in the Heavens above. Winifred always glanced to her mother, in times like that. Winnieβs mother never made her daughter, her only child, her confidant, that she was anything less than marvellous, but Winnie didnβt agree so easily.
Imelda, Garreth, Nellie, Samantha, they each took turns in stopping by, every once in a while.Β
Yet, never did Ominis Gaunt step inside the Three Broomsticks inn. Never, did his entrance set off the light-sounding bell, alerting the innkeepers of somebodyβs arrival.
Days always began in a satisfying, regular pattern and layout for Winifred Cartworth. The young girl lived above the inn, her bedroom and washroom opposite to the darling Sironaβs. The pair were as thick as thieves since they had met, all thanks toβ¦Winifred forced herself to not recall the name. Acknowledging Sirona began every day of hers, a smooth, croaky-voiced call of βmorning!β that escaped her lips, and Sironaβs eagerness in reply.Β
Winnie always wrapped her robe around herself, next, and walked to the washroom, her uncovered feet padding across the floor. Winifred still found herself using her old Gryffindor robe as a dressing robe, and although her long limbs meant the arm-holes lay almost halfway up, she felt it still was usable, and use it, she did. She always brushed her teeth next, and always managed to drop some toothpaste down herself. Winnie always caught herself scowling and huffing, more so than in her teenage years, yet never caught herself quickly cleaning the toothpaste off - which would have been far easier, in hindsight.Β
She always washed her blotchy face next, and took little-to-no effort to tie her hair back on some days, or on other days, to simply throw on her decorated witches hat, whether it lay around her neck by string, or positioned atop of her head.
Winnie liked to wear suspender trousers, so she often spent a few long-lasting moments deciding whether to face judgemental patriotism and wear them, or to throw on an equally lovely skirt. This very day, she chose to wear a long, star-decorated skirt, and a black bodice, with a white shirt underneath. Sirona always complimented her, no matter what, the dear woman.
However, of course, none of this mattered to the infrequent guest.Β
Ominis looked even more pale in the face, at this age. Merlin, it had only been two years since sheβd seen the pureblood boy, but honestly, it may as well have been four. It was difficult to face someone who, with, youβd committed terrible misfortunes towards another. His lips seemed thinner, and he seemed lighter in body, as if he hadnβt been eating. He was still carrying his guiding wand, which forced a slight smile onto Winnieβs face.Β
The ex-Slytherin looked awkward for a moment, for being at an almost-empty pub so early was uncommon, but of course he was unaware of how nobody seemed to be staring at him down.Β
βMay I speak to Winifred Cartworth, please?β his voice was quiet, blank. It was as if the name held no interest to him, other than his own desires. Ominis, from what Winnie could recall, was a kindly boy, always having another on his mind. This did not sound like him, and Winifred almost caught herself performing a double-take, almost startled by the change in voice to someone who once meant so much to her, so much to others. The young woman caught her lips wobbling, an odd sensation - some may call it dismay, or silent consideration of all sheβd missed out on. A glance to her roommate, eyes glazed over, and the older woman seemed to understand.
βWell,β Sirona began, quickly taking over, a tea towel slung across her left shoulder, mopping her brow at the sheer second-hand embarrassment in the moment. βIβm sure sheβd love to, but you will have to book in. Thereβs customers depending on her, you see.β Oh, Sirona. Dear friend, dearest, in fact, but did she need to make Winnieβs life so miserable? Why couldnβt she have made up some courtship, some fancy evening out, some better excuse?Β
βI understand.β Ominis replied quietly, almost immediately turning on his heel with the help of his lit wand, guiding him to the exit of the pub. βWell, when she is finished with her daily tasks, may you please inform her that Iβll be waiting?β Holding out a hand behind him, encased between two fingers was a small piece of paper, with a written address. From Winifredβs position, slunk behind the deserted bar, she could just about see the hastiness of the looping figures and letters.
βOf course.β Sirona was quick to reply, taking a moment to glance over to Winnie as she took the slip of papers, a small shrug of her shoulders gesturing to her cluelessness at the entire situation.Β
βThank you.β Came Ominisβ quiet response, before he reached for the door, pushing it open, before making his leave.Β
The Three Broomsticks was unnervingly quiet, for a moment. It was quiet beforehand, of course, yet the entire crowd could now be presumed dead, from the silent, pursed lips, and blank stares towards the door. The Gaunt family were known, of course, so why would they wish to interact with the innkeeper, of all people? Even Winifred herself could not be sure, as she bit down on an already chewed thumbnail.Β
What could be the matter? Ominis was never one to depend on other people, that much was clear. Honestly, from the very little Winnie knew, the man had been alone for the past few years. They were both at the age of twenty, and by now, many other purebloods had been wed. Winnie had attended weddings, but never had she seen Ominis attending too. Perhaps, just like herself, Ominis knew that attending a wedding, whilst youβd let your own future happiness slip out of your hands, was far too upsetting to deal with. Winifred was just better at handling pain.
βSirona...β Came Winnieβs unusually quiet voice, after a few moments, apprehensive in her next sentence. βMay you please take this drink from my hands? I promise Iβll make up for this.β
Sirona barely had a moment to reply, before a jug was thrust into her hands, and Winifred was rushing out of the door, coatless. It was a mid-October morning, frost not yet visible, yet sun not shining, either. The cobbled streets were slippery from the nighttime rainfall, and Winnie caught her legs stumbling, replicating a clumsy deer as she ventured towards the distant figure, mist shielding her gaze. βOminis!β Her call was frantic, as if she already sensed some big secret he was withholding from someone who was once - not so much a confidant, but a strong acquaintance of his.Β
Ominis didnβt so much as turn, yet simply whispered a reply. The streets were quite empty at this time of the morning, the slippery street stones withholding the usual hustle and bustle. Yet, his words were clear, even in hushed tones. βHold on to me. We shall apparate.βΒ
And as Winnie held onto his arm, apparate they did.
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Hello! Thank you for reading the prologue to 'Premonitions of the Past'!! i was very heavily inspired by other Hogwarts Legacy creators to make my own novel about my character, so here we are!
This story will include dark themes, but not necessarily evil and cruel characters :) Although i love myself some dark sebastian romance, i also think his humour and teasing is a large part of his character!! and after managing to do what he does in this story⦠i'd be pretty proud of myself too.
I cant draw, unfortunately, so no illustrations of my characters will be here :( I do, however, have a tumblr! username is lovesicklovermia , and i have posted darling girl winifred as a sim there, because im much more of an expert in that. i hope you enjoyed!!
