[two: antique]

As Genevieve Potter rode away in the horse draw carriage with her uncle, a certain raven-haired boy stood watching he carriage ride away with curiosity.

Never before had Edmund met someone so upmost peculiar to him, especially since she was a girl who Edmund usually would never associate with unless it was one of his sisters. He watched as she looked at him through the window and have him a small smile and he surprised himself when he returned it. He broke his trance when Peter pulled on his arm and forced him into the carriage.

Upon arriving at the professors mansion, Edmund was still lost in his thoughts. Something about the girl he merely associated with at the train station captivated him. Maybe it was because he was of similar age, maybe it was because she was so secretive and quiet compared to the few girls he did see in his everyday life or maybe it was because of their shared liking for science which he figured out when he saw her reading on the train. Edmund was still lost in his thoughts until he managed to trip up the stairs in the house and was left in an utterly foul mood.

"Professor Kirke is not accustomed to havin' children in this house. And as such, there are a few rules we need to follow. There will be no shoutin'. Or runnin'. No improper use of the dumbwaiter. NO touchin' of the historical artifacts! And above all, there shall be no disturbin' of the professor." Mrs. Macready said and the children all nodded before evacuating to their room, Edmund still deep in his thoughts.

•••

When Genevieve Potter arrived at her uncle's mansion she was immediately sent and locked in what she presumed would be her room. She looked across the sky blue wallpaper that had been obviously chipping away for some time and sighed. She put away her small belongings before lying down on her bed and closing her eyes.

She had been here ten minutes and she already hated the place.

It wasn't the place itself she hated, it was the loneliness that she hated. She had no brothers and sisters to spend her days with and she wasn't particularly popular socially at school in in her old neighborhood. But she at least saw her father sometimes and when at home she always felt her mothers presence, especially when she held her locket close to her heart.

Genevieve looked at the locket around her neck and clenched it in her hand as she closed her eyes and let a salty tear fall freely down her face. She missed her mother dearly. She missed the way she talked, the way her voice was fierce but also mixed with the sweetest of honey to show that she was caring. She missed her chocolate brown orbs and the way they glistened in the light. She missed the way her hair blew in the wind and the way her smile would light up any room she was in. There was a lot of things she missed, but most of all she missed her best friend.

When she closed her eyes she could still see her mother's eyes staring back at her and she could feel a sense of comfort. In her dreams she would hear her mothers voice telling her to be strong and that she was here even if she wasn't. She wanted nothing more than to have her mother back, to have someone there to put her trust in and to love with all her heart.

She didn't have that was Marcus.

She no longer had that with her father.

And her mother, she was gone.

Genevieve picked herself up off the bed and looked towards the mirror, taking in her dismantled reflection with a sign.

She could see her mother looking back at her.

Genevieve sighed as she placed her dainty hand on the mirror, tracing her features with the light touch of her finger and closed her eyes in content before opening them and almost gasping.

There was a lion in the mirror standing right behind her.

Genevieve turned around and saw no lion before looking to the mirror again and seeing no lion whatsoever.

I'm going mad she thought as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

She heard the lock on the door unlock and she turned around and saw her uncle's housemaid walk into the room and started changing the sheets. Genevieve silently thanked her as she walked out the room and chose to explore the house a bit.

She wandered the halls, quietly looking from room to room before finding that most of them were locked. As she reached the end of a narrow corridor she came to a door, isolated from the rest of the house. Genevieve cautiously opened the door and took a small step inside before closing the door after her with a soft click of the lock. Genevieve spectated the room with a small smile on her face. The room was practically empty apart from a large window which allowed light into the room and a beautiful wardrobe in the back of the room.

Genevieve walked towards it and traced the engraved pictures and designs on the wardrobe with a smile on her face. There was something almost magical about it, as if there was a spirit of magic that radiated from it every time it was touched. Genevieve looked upon the images engraved and smiled at them She had read many fantasy books, her mother used to love them and she easily identified a faun and a centaur on the doors as well as many different animals who seemed to be dancing together. The door handles had lions above them, almost as real as the lion she had seen in the mirror and in the carriage ride over.

Genevieve let go of the wardrobe and stepped back before turning around and going to walk out the room. As she placed her fingers around the doorknob she heard the door of the wardrobe slowly open and a gust of cold wind hit her face. Genevieve turned around and slowly walked towards the wardrobe again and looked inside and felt another wave of cold hit her.

Genevieve stepped back and instantly ran out of the room, half-scared and half-excited over the discovery of wind coming out of the wardrobe.

She had to tell someone.

Genevieve's breath hitched as she stood outside her uncle's office and she flattened down her clothes and made sure she looked appropriate before knocking on the door, hearing her uncle shout enter and she did.

Genevieve entered with a polite smile of her face and she stood in front of her uncle's desk who seemed to visibly roll his yes at her and she chose to ignore it, letting her hatred for her uncle slide so that she didn't cause an argument.

"What is it Genevieve?" Marcus asked her, the tiredness as clear as light in his voice.

"I was wondering about the wardrobe in the backroom," Genevieve started and she saw a shift in her uncle's eyes. "I wanted to ask the origin on it, there's truly something magical and intriguing about it."

"The antique?"

"Yes the antique."

"Sit down Genevieve." Marcus said and Genevieve did before sitting appropriately in the chair and looking at him. "Well my father told me a story about his best friend Digory and how he got the wardrobes."

"Wardrobes?" Genevieve asked politely and Marcus nodded before placing his work down and folding his arms to look at her.

"Well your grandfather Thomas' best friend Digory is actually the one who discovered the wardrobes and he had said that its origins revolve around some adventures he had in this magical place called Narnia he supposedly discovered when he was a kid. During that so called adventure, a lion called Aslan who was sworn king of the land had sent Digory to retrieve an apple from a magic treeand bring it back to him. After Digory did so, the apple was planted in the ground and grew into a beautiful tree with silver bark, known as the Tree of Protection. This tree acted like a shield, keeping the witch Jadis out of Narnia for many years after it was planted. Aslan later gave an apple from the Tree of Protection to Digory. It is said that when he returned to London and gave the apple to his mother who, after eating it, was cured of her long and debilitating sickness. Afterwards, Digory buried the apple core in his backyard, and it grew into a tree as well - a daughter tree to the one that had grown in Narnia. Sometimes the apple tree would creak and move, as if being blown in the wind even when there wasn't any and it was as if it could feel the winds that blew its mother tree." Marcus explained and Genevieve looked forward, intrigued by the story behind the wardrobe as magical and fictional as it seems.

"What happened to the tree?"

"Eventually, the tree was blown down in a storm, and the much older Digory, unable to bear the prospect of the magical tree being simply chopped up for firewood, had the wood from the tree made into two beautiful wardrobes. One still remains with him in his mansion a mile out whereas the other remains here as a gift for your grandfather. We haven't found much use for it except from storing old coats but your grandfather loved it and use to tell Elizabeth and I stories of fauns and centaurs form Narnia. It was a beautiful story I mus admit but a little too fantasy for my taste."

"It's a really beautiful story. I wish I had met grandfather." Genevieve sighed and she heard Marcus get up and lean in front of her, something he had never done before.

"Your grandfather was a brilliant man and your mother clearly followed in his footsteps. Don't feel disheartened by not being able to spend as much time with them as I did as I still feel the presence of my father and sister everyday. I'm hard on you and I understand that but you can't blame yourself for everything okay Genevieve?"

"Okay." She whispered before leaving the room and heading to bed, having lost an appetite for reasons unbeknownst to her.

Narnia, she though as laid down under her covers. It has a nice ring to it.