2: A Mother’s Call

📍The Williams Residence - August 1993

Locus Amoenus means 'pleasant place' in Latin. The 'Amoenus' Mansion was located on a cliff facing the ocean in a remote town on a remote island with a population of 600 people, 2 wixen and the natural fauna.

The four-story building was built almost entirely of stone, with a mix of urban gothic and cottage-styled architecture. It stood as the only wixen property on the island, hidden to the no-maj by a thick expanse of forest and an even thicker layer of wards.

On the fourth floor of the Amoenus Mansion, was the private quarters of one of the two women of the island, a teenage witch. Her west-facing window was open, inviting in a breeze of sea salt air as the afternoon sunshine warmed her skin.

The peace allowed her to immerse in one of the many no-maj fantasy novels she had collected over the expanse of the last month. The irony was not lost on her, as a witch, but she enjoyed the creativity and the lore as if exploring a world that could actually exist.

A soft knock, a half-hearted 'come in~' and a squeaking door opening later, came the voice of a young elf with brown, globe-like eyes and long tan ears. His cloth shoes made no noise as he walked and quickly patted out the invisible wrinkles in his off-white tunic to address her.

"Dippy is to remind Young Missy of Young Missy's meeting with Madam."

"Thank you, Dippy" The young mistress held out her hand with expectation. "Will you be guiding me?" She teased, half expectant.

"Dippy is not a young elf anymore. Dippy must be good. Must not let Young Missy be bad." The house elf scolds gently, making the young witch sulk.

Where was the small elf child that tugged on her finger and led her to the study by hand? The same sweet elf that beamed at her as he completed his mission with pride. Now, he's a seasoned helping hand, a full-fledged housewife. Despite the pang of loss, she was very proud of him.

"Dippy has always been good. Thank you for all you do. Let mother know I'll be there soon." He gave her a pleased smile, bowed and apparated away.

"Well…" She unlaced the ribbon around her wrist and used it to mark her place in her book then stood to stretch her aching body. The room filled with the satisfying cracking of bones, reminding herself not to be sat huddled in her armchair for hours.

She padded her way down the stairs to the third floor and took the left hallway to two solid mahogany doors with gold fastenings and the motif of a dragon on the door handle. After a gentle knock, the owner of the room called her in.

Her mother's office was very dark academia styled. There was a large mahogany desk in the middle of a Persian carpet that was covered in books, scattered parchment and stray quills. With it, a leather upholstered chair with a seat cushion charmed to work like a no-maj massage chair.

The walls had built-in shelves filled with old books, research diaries and family tomes. There were also small trinkets, artefacts and heirlooms, portraits and statues, There was a leather sofa opposite the desk, that she had spent many hours on watching her mother work.

Her favourite feature was the two large windows with thick, navy curtains parted to the sides and held by a gold rope. The windows overlooked the ocean and lit the room with natural lighting. It was a familiar space that the young witch loved.

"Tiffany! I thought you'd be a little while longer." The older witch stood and gave her a warm hug.

Athena Meldonna Williams gave a breathtaking smile. Her eyes, amber honey framed by long, curled eyelashes, creased at the corners and were evidence of many years of happiness.

"Good Morning Mother." Penelope Parkinson, now Tiffany Penelope Williams greeted her fondly. "Today's hair looks very nice. As always, your beauty is ethereal"

Athena had a habit of changing through lace fronts and wigs frequently, a luxury she now has as an inactive militant. Today's hair was a long slivery white half-up-do with plaits that were a stark contrast against her dark tan skin. She looked as divine and as magical as ever.

"Thank you, my darling~." She gave her daughter a pleased smile. It's one thing to feel beautiful but it is another to be reminded by someone else and Athena's daughter was nothing, if not sweet.

"I wanted to talk about your education. You spent a year at Beauxbaton, then three years at Illvermorny. As per our agreement, you'll spend 5th-7th year at Hogwarts."

Tiffany tried not to show her anxiety, but despite knowing the agreement and anticipating the change, the transition into the unknown was still daunting.

"I know you're scared but I promise you that it will be okay."

The young witch took in a deep breath and exhaled, willing herself to be strong then gave her mother a half-confident nod.

"Hogwarts does not have as many subjects as Illvermorny or Beauxbaton but it does have its reputation for a reason."

The young heiress nodded. Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Astronomy, Herbology, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as her elective courses. She would have liked Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies but found that both subjects were better studied at a leisurely pace.

"There is no duelling club but your coach has been corresponding with Filius Flitwick, former International Duelling Champion and current Charms professor. Phillip expects good results at this year's International Youth Duelling Championship in October."

Tiffany felt her magic hum in response to her excitement. She was very excited.

The International Youth Duelling Competition was run by the International Duelling Association, which founded the Youth League, Amateur League and Professional League in 1945 following the end of the Fall of the Dark Lord Grindelwald.

Her teacher, Phillip Martin, an Illvermorny duelling instructor and an honorary member of the IDA, has been training her to qualify since her second year.

He was a tough coach, often pushing her further than even she believed and always held her to a higher standard. She remembered crying herself silly when he drilled her for the first time, believing he had singled her out spitefully. After an embarrassing heart-to-heart, she felt the courage to step out and continue duelling.

"Martin almost followed after you when I told him you were coming back to Britain. Not that the Magical Congress would let him." The older woman gave a smug smirk, "He looked at me like I stole his child. Hah! And maybe I did but I don't care. You were mine first."

This made the young heiress smile, a slight blush on her dimpled cheeks. It was nice. To be someone's favourite person in the world.

"I don't think the other members want to put up with him. It was Aziz that lit the fire and the rest of us are struggling to put it out."

Aziz Jackson, current Illvermorny alumnus and her senior mentor in a duel, was the youth champion of 1991 and is what spurred their coach into a frenzy of training and competition drills. He is currently old enough to qualify for amateur leagues.

"How is Aziz?" Her mother questioned and Tiffany waved her off with a casual, 'He's fine'. Because that's how he was the last she heard from the boy…- man? It didn't bother her much, Aziz was great and must be busy doing great things.

"Well anyways, I also expect you to keep up with your studies. No matter how intelligent you are, I don't want you to become complacent." Tiffany nodded.

Athena, done with all her work, took her daughter's hand and placed it in the crook of her elbow, the pair strolled towards the dining area in casual conversation.

Her mother took her seat at the head and the young witch followed to her right. The duo gave small thanks to the hands that prepared the food, to Mother Magic for her grace and to Master Death for allowing them another day together. It was not really a practised wizarding custom but more a ritual they made together to remind them of what was important.

Dinner was a quiet affair and soon, Tiffany kissed her mother's cheek as she bid her goodnight before finding herself showered and asleep as early as 9 pm.