Kari looked out of the thick-bubbled glass.

It was snowing again. The grounds of Thrasirshall were blanketed in deep snow. Snow was familiar and comforting to Kari. His father insisted on snow.

He could see his mother Jessa making tracks in the snow. She was heading towards the sheds. They contained storage of food, so he might never have to make contact with the outside world. That was not quite the whole truth, his father was wary of outsiders. “They don’t understand us, Kari.” He had said. “They don’t trust what they don’t understand. We must be cautious and not be quick to judge.” His father said that often.   Kari sighed and turned round for a moment he thought he saw his father looking back at him his face solemn, until he realised it was his own reflection. The face looking back at him was miserable, and though he did not know it lonely. He looked round his long room. Pieces of glass were strung around the room. The intricate framework of the ropes looked like a spider’s web and the glass glittering dew. Each piece of glass caught the sun and shot light on to the wall where he had drawn patterns of whorls.

Kari liked his room. He was sad to be leaving it. An open crate was at the bottom of his bed. He wasn’t interested in packing. Two great birds flew up to the window. They marked the arrival of his father. His father was coming to see him. Kari ignored the ravens. They tapped on the glass. “ I won't open the window, you can stay outside and freeze!”  The birds flew off with loud cries of protest as he threw a pair of rolled up socks at the window.

The English oak door opened and his father's frame silhouetted the doorway. He looked back at the mirror he could see only the room and its glittering mobiles and light speckled walls. He could not see his father’s reflection. Only two people had reflections in Thrasirshall they belonged to neither his father nor himself, a reflection of a woman was soon seen in the mirror. She smiled at him. Why doesn’t it worry mother? He thought. That she appears in the mirror when I cannot.

“Have you finished packing yet dear?”

“no mother” His father drew a sharp breath. Kari waited but his father said nothing. He stood straight and stoutly, crossing his arms. He was the spitting image of his father pale from the lack of sun, his colourless eyes disapproved at Kari. His straight silvery hair was smoothed back and held out of the way by cooking fat. Their faces were identical. There was never a need for Kari to look in the mirror anything he could or might be was there right in front of him in the form of his father. The only hint of his mother was his hair although straight like his father it was black like his mother, naturally tinted with burgundy from of course his fathers ancestors. He watched his mother pack the crate. He was going to School. In a distant country. Far from home. Far from anything he knew. Hogwarts.