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I’m Kayla Gryffin, and I was born in Iceland— I had a Icelandic mother and French father. My father worked for a geographical company in Paris, so he was in Iceland on business. My parents met in an Icelandic café, where they would meet often after the crucial first encounter; and they took turns buying each other coffees and various hot beverages.
So, eventually the inevitable happened, and the two began dating. My parents were both young— my father nineteen and my mother eighteen. They said a lot of things to me about such dates, but I won't bore you with such rubbish.
They got engaged later on, and a year after that they were married. It was on the date of their anniversary— 19 July— that my mother, Louise she was called, announced to my father, Logan, that she was pregnant.
To say he was delighted would be the greatest understatement of the century. He was bouncing around the room like a jack in the box.
Yeah, so, the time between then and my eventual birth was not very eventful— my mother would spend most of the day watching a Muggle TV, whilst the chores would do themselves. My father got another job, as a broom manufacturer. I was born two weeks early, but I was a 'strong' baby, as the way my parents would put it. But my strength then, they soon discovered, was nothing to my iron will and cruel sense of humour. I was cunning, and often even fooling my parents with a few well placed lies.
But one truth about me was that I was never normal, and would never be; my parents were both wizarding folk, so hence they had produced a magical child. But something they'd dreaded was me being a squib. Fortunately that never happened. I can never shake off the thought that my parents would be less kind towards me as they have been.
Even though I was already aware of the wizarding world at a young age, it never ceases to enthrall me. But the final thing that made my parents happy came one night. I was so amazed I remember it all as if it were yesterday. My eleventh birthday, June 17, 01:00 Icelandic time— there was a small thump of paper. Luckily the fire was off for the night, as it had sounded as if it had landed in the fireplace.
Surprisingly, the light was still on downstairs. I pulled on my emerald dressing gown, and walked down the stairs, seeing my ten year old sister Gabrielle coming too. My parents were sat in the living room, and my father held a blue letter in his hand. Suddenly my mother squealed.
"Calm yourself, Louise. It's not like Evangeline is here." My father shushed her. My aunt Evangeline— she rarely visits.
I walked in, Gabrielle at my heels. Slowly, and with a grin on his face, he handed the letter to me. I read it in mere seconds. I had a Beauxbatons letter in my hand. It was all true. I found myself smiling too.
"We'd better get you there." My father croaked. "Massive Fidelius Charm over the place...we already got your stuff."
And I did get there. And I am there. Friodent is my new Beauxbatons family.
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