"If your whole life turns out to be a lie, what will you do then?"
"If everything you knew turns out to be a hoax, what will you do then?"
Graciana Duerre Weasley, twin sister of Ron Weasley, is a troublemaker. Mischievous but a little introvert, bo...
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THE SMALL TOWN OF IMMINGHAM was situated in south-west bank of the Humber Estuary, lit with dim lamplight through quaint windows and dusted in a layer of fine white powder, covering thick brambles and turning the roofs a frosting colour. Freya Black, her eyes glinting brightly in the glittering snowfall, appeared just on the town border where the little board sign sat on the corner, her eyes trained on the town in front of her.
Cottages dotted the small town, lining cobbled streets and lit by the soft light of the lamps. Each of the neighborhood of the town surrounded the main street in the middle, lined with Christmas decorations and coloured lights. In the yard of one of the houses, she noticed a crude snowman topped with a brilliant black top hat, now tainted with soft dust of the snow.
Grace felt her hairs bristle, and her teeth were chattering. She quietly performed a warming spell on herself and let out a relieved sigh. Tightening her scarf around her neck, she started walking toward the town, in hopes of finding an inn to stay the night. She carefully avoided slippery spots and rocks that could catch her feet.
The main street was deserted, with all of the shops and restaurants closed, but the lights and decorations remained. Her attention was drawn to a clock on the wall of a nearby tea store; it was half past one in the night. A little further was a crossroad, and on the left corner sat the town library.
She began walking in the front street, her trailing down the different storefronts as she passed. She had never been to a muggle town before, but she found this one quite beautiful even without the hustle-bustle. She passed another pub, which had muggle cars lined around it. Lights flashed from inside it and faint music reached her ear.
Grace stopped in front of an inn, which looked like a cottage from the 70s. On the top of it was written 'Bluestone Inn', and vines covered the board on the edges. She pushed open the door and stepped in. The hallway was lit by dim yellow fairy lights and lanterns which hung on the ceilings.
A woman who looked like in her early-twenties sat on the reception, half dozed off, her head hanging sideways slightly. In front of her sat a big square shaped machine, which Grace wasn't sure what exactly was. She remembered Hermione explaining it to her two years back during the Christmas holidays, but she didn't really heard her. She just remembered it was called something from 'C'.
Grace's eyes moved toward the name tag that she was wore on her knitted blue sweater: Ophelia.
"Excuse me," said Grace softly, not wanting to startle the lady.
The woman stirred and blinked a few times, before her eyes settled on Grace. She looked startled suddenly, obviously not expecting for someone to come in this late at night.
