How The Houses Got Their Name – Winning Stories

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Katie Murdoch Year 8 

Back Story for all three houses.

A young woman strode through the scorching, harsh outback grumbling curses under her breath at the unmerciful sun that blazed high above, burning the ground with its rays. She was unused to the heat of the sun burnt country, having grown accustomed to the sheer cold winds and clouded skies of England.

 

She was thirsty. Her water supplies had run out days ago and she had no clue where to find more. Scratch that, she had no clue where anything was. Sure her magic could help but it felt wrong here, as if her magic had no place in this foreign land.

 

“You are not wrong child of magic,” a feminine voice echoed through her head. The woman froze in shock. The once non-existent wind picked up, billowing over the bare landscape. This was no ordinary wind.

“You are correct again child,” the voice was now laced with amusement. She spun round, searching wildly for the source.

 

A top a rocky outcrop, tall and proud, stood an unknown creature. It seemed dog-like in build but its desert brown coat was unusual. The dog’s eyes were a liquid gold, pulsing with power.

“My name is Desert Song young witch,” the dog announced firmly, muscles coiling as she sprang from the rock. “And I am one of last wielders of elder magic.”

“Pardon?” the young woman, Hermione, asked. If dogs could smirk, Desert Song most certainly did.

“Here in Australia there is a magic far older than yours young witch; the magic of the earth. I would explain but there isn’t much time. Your earlier stunt alerted the others to your location and will be here soon and you don’t want them to catch you,” Desert Song told her, jerking her head, gesturing for Hermonie to follow. Hermione obeyed and raced beside her.

“What do you mean, I don’t want them to catch me?”

“Dingo’s have more sense of justice than some of the other creatures here, young witch, meaning I won’t kill you simply for trespassing on my land. However some of the others resort to far more violent means to dispose of trespasses, especial those of a younger magic,” Desert Song replied, picking up her pace.

“You mean they’ll kill me?” Hermione questioned.

“Absolutely and they’ll enjoy it too. Your magic won’t harm them so they’ll take their time as well.”

“So I’m not safe here at all?”

“Just in the desert. We are far more protective of our limited resources than the coastal and forest dwellers,” the dingo answered swiftly. She stopped suddenly.

“This is as far as I can take you. Keep running straight and you’ll reach safety. Do not under any circum stances come back for me,” Desert Song growled in a clipped tone, leaving no room for argument. Hermione had far too much respect for the ancient deity to even ponder her words. Thanking her, Hermione bolted. She obeyed Desert Song’s orders even as regret, anger and terror clawed at her heart when the howls of agony reached her ears.

 

Hermione reached a sandy cliff just as night began to fall. Sobs tore from her throat as she remembered the kind deity’s demise. It was her fault.

“Do not cry child of magic,” a male voice cawed. Hermione glanced up, her eyes still glazed with tears. A far more familiar animal, a crow, swooped out of the darkening sky.

“But Desert Song…”

“Sacrificed herself. I know,” the crow interrupted. “But she embraced death, young witch. She was preparing for it. She was merely waiting to compete her job in a prophecy then she would fade.”

The crow stretched his wings tiredly.

“Ebony Eye Nightwing is correct for once child,” a soothing voice added. Hermione nearly fell off the ledge in shock. A mantaray, a huge one at that, was emerging from the water. His magnificent form glittered in the starlight, water droplets made of star shine fell into the dark ocean.

“Desert Song hunts amongst the earth now, embracing her domain fully. She is at peace, child of magic. Do not dwell on her demise to much but never forget her.”

 “Now young witch, what is it that I and Rippleray can assist you with?” the crow crooned, cocking his head slightly.

Hermione explained her reason for coming. Whilst she did so she was conscious of the face eating grins that had spread across the guardians of water and death magic’s faces.

 “It is time,” Rippleray murmured. “The prophecy is unfolding. The young magic will return. Very well we will help you, child. But bear in mind, the knowledge of elder magic mustn’t be forgotten. Don’t teach it but the traditional magic wielders must be honored.”

 

“Of course,” Hermione agreed. The condition was reasonable and easy to follow.

“It’s show time!” Ebony Eye crowed, flapping his magnificent wings. “Let’s get to work!” 

The three houses were named after the deities who helped with the creation of Mugworts. The kind, cryptic and nurturing late Desert Song, the excitable, blunt Ebony Eye Night Wing (contrary to his name) and the solemn, vain Rippleray all received slightly more honour than the others. The school was built in the birth place of Desert Song upon being completed, Mother Nature blessed the area.  

 

The prophecy:

Child of Magic beware the plain

Song of the desert unburden her pain

Fading away as the sky turns black

Friends shouldering the quest to bring young magic back

  

The Back Story for Ripple Ray

By Emily Bretherton Year 8

The story of how Ebony Eye came to be is long, foreign tale that was nearly forgotten until the school called Muggworts took in the title.

It came from a young wizard, born from two muggles. He grew up with pride and confidence, never afraid to take a challenge. The boy discovered he was a wizard at the age of twelve, and his life was never the same from there on.

He accepted his invite to Hogwarts (Muggworts was not founded at the time), and left as soon as he could. His parents were wary to send him off to England, but agreed all the same.

When the twelve year-old did make it though, he was surprised at the amount of other wizards there was. He was later sorted into Hufflepuff, and was satisfied with the place he was given.

He had been at the school for less than two months and his pride had already fallen. He was constantly beaten by other students for not being a pure-blooded wizard, physically and verbally. He spent his days studying in the library, and his nights staring out the window until he would pass out from exhaustion.

Though one night, was different from any other he’d experienced. A little crow approached at the edge of the window. He watched it, as it did him. The two gazed at each other for minutes, not moving, just observing. Eventually, the crow flew away. The boy examined it, until it was out of view.

The next evening, the boy was back at his sill, watching the sky. That is, until the crow returned. The ebony creature, again, had stepped onto his window. The boy was surprised. He had no clue what the bird would be doing back here. Once again, the two sat gazing into the others’ eyes.

This continued for the next few weeks, but in the fourth week on the third day, it was different. The bird yet again returned, but after a minute, the bird approached the boy. Slowly, the feathered-creature came towards his hand. The little boy’s eyes widened. He didn’t dare move, scared that it would run. But as it perched on his little finger, he smiled gratefully. His smile was filled with pure delight and joy. The boy could swear he had never been this excited in his life.

Slowly and softly, he shifted his second hand. The bird, shocked, flew away leaving an ebony feather on the boy’s hand. He gently picked it up, examining it, before dropping it out the window. The twelve year-old fell asleep with a great grin on his face.

The next evening, the bird resumed to its spot on the small window which would now become their meeting place. Again, the boy’s feathered friend had climbed his finger. But this time when he lifted his other hand, the crow only watched. He cautiously moved it towards the animal’s back and stopped above it. When the creature didn’t move, He gently placed his hand atop the muffled feathers. The creature again, did not shift, so he started brushing his hand softly against the feathers. The soft, smooth feeling of them was beautiful to him.

This would happen every night, the same process. The bird would visit. He would pet it. And it would leave. The boy’s spirits were slowly coming back. He started with talking to more, and more people. He made friends with many, and was known by many. He started talking softly to the creature at night, talking about how he missed his family, and how nice school was now. People wouldn’t pick on him, knowing that if they did, people would defend him and the bully would eventually be out-numbered and surrender.

The boy’s life got so good at school, that he decided to stay during the Christmas break. He shared his Christmas with his new found-friends. After the Christmas celebration, the boy eagerly awaited the crow’s visit. He had finally decided upon a name for his best friend. Ebony Eye. When he told the crow, he could’ve sworn that he agreed as he ruffled his feathers.

The next year for him was amazing. His confidence was back, as well as his pride and love for challenges. Everything was great until the one night that took his life.

He stared at the bright stars, anticipating the arrival of Ebony Eye, his beloved friend. The child waited all night, yet the feathered friend of his did not show himself. This worried the boy. The bird had never missed a visit, never in the whole time since the first visit. The boy was impatient the next day, as well as exhausted from no sleep the previous evening.

The creature had been gone for two months, with no evidence that he had been in the time that the boy had slept in. His grades slowly dropped. He stopped talking to people. He was picked on again. His life was even worse than what it had been before Ebony Eye came into his existence.

It was getting too hard for him. Without his friend here, he was alone, with no one to express his thoughts to. He sat on the edge of the sill one dusk, around midnight, when it was darkest he looked at the bright sparkles in the sky. His eyes grazed over the field, looking at the green trees which looked bland during the night. The cool wind blew softly, causing the trees to shake in the wind.

He stood on the ledge and tilted his head towards the full moon that kept the sky bright. He sighed lightly, and stepped forward into the wind and rode its current into the blackened sky.

-0o0-

In the night sky, an ebony creature flew through, making its way towards a wooden ledge on a grey castle. The small winged creature dug its claws into it, wondering where his friend was. He looked into the sky and saw a sleek bird soar before the moon.

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