The first handful of years of a child's life is usually unremarkable. Unremembered except by parents and family. Siwan Llewellyn was no exception to this. She could not remember her first steps. Or the way that her mother would spin around and hug Siwan tightly as she was picked up. Or that by the time she was four years old, she had flown in planes, ridden so many trains, taken several ferries, and had been to more countries than she had fingers.
She was loved greatly, and well taken care of. Educated by great minds both in schools and from the wise old lady that lived next door and gave her sweets because Siwan reminded her of her own daughter. By the age of five, Siwan spoke two languages… sometimes at the same time, much to the amusement of her parents. She was working on Japanese with her mother Amanda, while they traveled, and when in Melbourne, she delighted her grandparents when she showed them her carefully written notes, and she spoke with a lilting, bell-like voice to show off all that she had learned.
Germany brought a whole slew of new experiences. They had been traveling around Europe that year, and the plan was to head south towards Italy next after her father had completed his round at the magical hospital, but this was the last stop for them. Someone had run a traffic light and Amanda was unlucky. They all were. They spent the next 10 months in Melbourne before moving to Japan.
It was a tough year, but it was soothed by Siwans new adventures at school. Part of the draw to Japan was learning about, and becoming immersed in a culture that made up a huge part of her mother's life, and her mother's parents. At seven, she began day school at Mahoutokoro, and stayed there until she was twelve. It was the longest she had stayed in one country that she could remember. However, the number of times that they had moved house, was almost unimaginable to any of her classmates.
It was only a matter of time, when it was thought back on, that the family of two would pack up and leave once again. This time it was back to Europe. Back to Wales, which Gawain has insisted that they had been to before, when Siwan was much younger. She was twelve then. Old enough to be starting at a new school two years in. At Hogwarts, she was shy at first, but in the three years that she was there. Transitioning from a child and into a teen, she came into her own.
Although she was sorted into Ravenclaw, there was little regard for the houses in the years following The Battle of Hogwarts as more than a designation for grouping students into more manageable sizes. There was a unity there, and a healthy rivalry that she loved. She had started to make good friends, staying up well into the night. Their shared dormitory a mess of clothing, and school books, sweets, and letters from home. She was starting to love it there, and even though she hoped that the summer trips never stopped, Siwan looked forward to the beginning of the school year.
She found out that they were moving back to Melbourne at the end of her fifth year. That summer, they didn’t travel too terribly far. Instead, Siwan visited her friends that she wouldn’t see again. They cried. Photos were taken. It was incredibly dramatic in the way that teenage girls often were. Part of it though, was to perhaps make her father change his mind. Of course it didn’t work.
They moved to Melbourne anyways with the promise of stability and her dad being around more. Their temporary place was near her grandparents, and her summer was spent reconnecting with them. Her Japanese had been rusty from years of having no one to really practice with. She would walk with her grandmother to the nearby asian market with big floppy hats on and fans in their hands to stay somewhat cool in the Australian heat .All the while, she dreaded the start of the school year.