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The House

The manor is far too large for Don Fernandez, his wife, two servants, and a cook, however, for the sake of stature, the house is what it is.

Each room is beautifully decorated with Arabic mosaics and arches, inlaid woods, and the glint of gold. There are several water fountains that have channels of water flowing through each room.

La Familia

Don Bajardo Fernandez is a wealthy business man who continued the work his ancestors labored for for generations. Under his guidance, his orchard feeds not only the locals, but the citizens of several countries around the world. Despite his shrewd business skills, he is a warm and gentle man. At the age of 57, his frame is still thin as in his youth. His skin is a rich, olive color, and his eyes are a striking dark forest green. His once jet black hair is fading and streaked with gray. He looks upon Catalina as the daughter he never had.



Doña Agustina Fernandez is a woman who is of a higher social status than anyone she meets, be they a pauper or a countess, or so she thinks. Her snobbery is enhanced by the amount of money her husband earns each year. Despite her stuck up tendencies, she loves her husband and his quiet nature. When asked her age, she always replies in an offended voice, "Thirty-five," but she has been the same age for at least a decade or more. She has honey-colored skin, and smoldering gray eyes that can cut one down with just a look. She is a of medium height, and is rather plump. Her hair is a rusty brown color that forms into tight ringlets. One may speculate her family migrated from northern Spain, and has some Celtic blood in her. She prefers Catalina as a friend than daughter, though still has her tender moments.

Catalina's feet touched down on soft, fertile earth. Her nostrils filled with the smell of rich soil, and then the sweet scent of orange blossoms. The best oranges came from Spain, and not just any part, but from Don Fernandez's orchard. She smiled. This was the smell of good memories, nostalgia. The heat was apparent, but the small trees did their best to protect their caretakers from too much. Even so, Catalina knew it was time to get inside for a cool drink.

Lugging her baggage up to the front of the manor, the woman entered through an archway without opening a door or meeting a guard dog. This is what she loved about the Spanish; they were so open. Their houses, their love, their family...it was such a wonderful change from stuffy Britain.

To Catalina's front was a large fountain with stone lions poised around the edge, fearsome mouths agape with thirst. The gurgling fountain kindly spurted the life-giving liquid into each feline's parched throat as it spun, much like a muggle water sprinkler, but more elegant. It was an ancient trick of Spanish magicians, but the muggles who lived here had not figured it out. Better let the beauty be.

The woman gently set her luggage down, and sat along the rim of the fountain amongst the lions, watching as they drank their fill. This was one of her favorite parts of the house. Catalina was so immersed in her fascination, she did not notice the plump woman bustling through the hallway until she was nearly upon her.

Catalina rose from her perch as Agustina raced towards her, guilty she had gotten side-tracked instead of immediately coming in to greet her hostess and friend. "Not but for a few minutes. I had to visit the grove to smelly those heavenly oranges, and then stopped to see my favorite fountain," she said, her plump lips forming a smile.

She opened her arms, and embraced the older woman, kissing her on both cheeks. "You look well, my friend. I hope to age as gracefully as you," Catalina whispered in her ear.

Smirking and ignoring the fact that Agustina had been thirty-five years old the last few times she had visited, Catalina watched as the girls struggled to lift and carry the suitcases inside. She almost wanted to help- her hostess would be furious if they kept her waiting- but decided to continue on into the cool, dim lighting of the manor.

As they passed through the hallway to the den, Catalina took in the wall carvings, the arches, and the mosaics on the walls. It was as if they were telling a story left behind by their Moorish creators. It was absolutely breath-taking and left her in awe every time. Hogwarts had nothing on these talking walls.

They stepped through another archway into the living room, another open space with antique carved furniture and beautiful tiles. Settling on a couch, Catalina pulled her veil off and set it in her lap. She smiled, glad to be home at last.

"Fair," Catalina countered, knowing full-well what her friend was asking.

In truth, what could she say? The students I teach about your everyday life are fascinated as to how you survive with out magic? I tortured one of these students because a woman who wanted to destroy everything you and I stand for took over the school? No, it was against the law for her to even mention.

She thought of her supposed job as a government worker. It was all top secret any way, right? Still, it seemed unfair that people who would love her regardless of her magical abilities could not be told of what she really was.

Catalina let out a sigh.

Catalina raised her brow in annoyance, and puckered her plump lips. "Agustina, I don't need a man! Let me tell you, if I needed one, he would be here now. Gracias, but no."

She calmed her nerves a bit as Ysabel set down a tray of dates and two goblets of perspiring water. "Gracias," she uttered.

"Agustina, where is Bajardo? I have not seen him yet," Catalina said in her usual voice.