The crooked stone house sat amongst the purple heather on the topmost peak of Sky Brae. A soft breeze whispered through the long grass on the other side of the brick wall and caused thee gnarled rowan trees by the back door to creak gently in the wind. Pale, early morning sunlight filtered down onto the Scottish hillside, making the crisp frost that still clung to the ground sparkle and the freshly painted window-frames gleam white.
Up the gravel driveway, through the weathered oak front door and past the unusual assortment of plants that lined wither side of the corridor, lay the kitchen. It was a small, snug room, consisting of many pieces of mismatched wooden furniture and yet more strange and colourful vegetation. Around the dining table, sat a family of five, helping themselves to steaming porridge from a large pot or to slices of toast piled high with jam.
At the head of the table, was the second oldest brother. With his mop of unruly dark curls, his skin that had been tanned golden from many hours spent in the sun and his tattered jeans and T-shirt, he looked quite out of place sitting within the walls of the house.
To his right was the mother of the four boys. Her brown hair, now streaked with grey, was tied out of her face in a loose bun and her clear blue eyes looked tired and faraway. Beside her was the youngest son. Judging by his height, his blonde locks that fell to his ears and his wide, innocent eyes, he could not have been more than twelve.
Sitting opposite the smallest was a boy of around fourteen. He had golden hair, green eyes and his glasses were falling down the end of his nose as he leaned eagerly into a book titled; Sights of Historical Sorcery.
Although he was not the tallest, the stubble that ran along his lower jaw and the faint wrinkles beneath his dark eyes were clear give-aways that he was the eldest. He was hunched forwards, stirring his tea absent-mindedly.
"Trenton!" the mother cried suddenly. "You musn't eat so much! You'll make yourself ill!"
"Nonsense, Mother," the tanned boy with the curly hair continued to pile spoonfuls of porridge into his bowl. "I'm a growing boy. Besides, me and Anthony are climbing Bennachie today; I'll need all the food I can get."
Mother shook her head and clucked disapprovingly. "I hope you're not going looking for one of your chocolate-elves," she said. "I know what you're like when you get together with Anthony. He's a lovely boy but he does put some... bizarre ideas in your head."
"As a matter of fact, I am going brownie hunting," Trenton snapped. "And there is nothing bizarre about Anthony's ideas."
Elizabeth Rae - 17th June 1950 - 48 years old - Herbologist
Malcolm Rae - 19th November 1975 - 25 years old - Auror
Trenton Rae - 22nd August 1981 - 17 years old - Naturalist
Christopher Rae - 30th January 1984 - 14 years old - Wandmaker
Dylan Rae - 2nd December 1985 - 12 years old - Quidditch player