Time: 19:23
Date: Nov. 10, 2025
It had been two months since Ilse Van Aalsburg first stepped foot in Penwick School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When she wrote home, she always mentioned how beautiful the place was and how content she was. But in truth, she wasn't. It wasn't easy being the only Dutch student in the whole school, and she found almost every day filled with challenges. While she did get consistent grades, and did well with schoolwork, she found communicating with her peers extraordinarily hard. She had learnt Welsh in the months before arriving at the school, but it was hard learning the language, even though two months passed in a blink of the eye. Apart from the language barrier, Ilse had no friends. Nobody had wanted to approach the Dutch girl for what she was--a foreigner in their eyes, and Ilse hadn't the courage to seek out friends herself. Most unlike her, she would later reflect. The only leisure she had at all was spending weekends with her younger brother, curled up in a corner of the library, or in an empty classroom or on the grounds.
The particular Friday, after she had come back to the Modron quarters, changed, and immediately rushed out to bag a good seat in the common-room. Ilse sunk into one of the plush couches by the merry fireplace. It was Friday, and she knew she had two full day to complete her assignments, so she decided an evening of lounging around doing nothing more than reading, or, making progress in making friends, was an evening not wasted. She watched the flames dance in the pile of wood nested in the fireplace, and sighed, before pulling out her book and began reading. But her eyes didn't follow the words much, and she looked up every-so-often, trying to find a familiar face amongst the chattering students, excited for their weekends.
@Finnegan Connor