After the train, the northern part of Leinster I had just stepped into felt especially cold and windy. Wrapping my lilac robe tighter around my waist, I strode down the dark alley of shingles that wound its way through an even darker forest. I could only hope that it would lead me to the place I wanted to reach. Chulainne was the largest settlement of wizards and witches in this part of Ireland. Named after the young hero of the well known Ulster cycle, it was a town filled with legends and myths. For this reason I could think of no better place to begin my travels as a newly graduated wizard, hungry for adventures and experience. Just this July I had finished my studies at the renowned Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, naturally at the top of all classes. Choosing the life of the explorer over a carreer in Quidditch or the Ministry (or certainly, any other high-paying job), I had both astounded all my teachers and angered my family. But when I imagined all the wondrous thing I would experience, I could not help but laugh at anyone who chose a different way of living. Listening to the cold winds howling through the trees, I wondered what I would encounter here. Every breeze sounded like a werewolf, every other stone on the ground looked like an old artifact, every oak tree looked like it was alive and bowing down to me, only hesitating to grab me with its massive branches because it could feel that I was more dangerous than itself. After what felt like an hour of walking along the wounded way, dragging my only suitcase after me, a faint shine of light through the branchage got me out of my daydreams. The flickering of laterns shining through the forest gave me new hope, and I started to run towards the town, frozen to the bone and my suitcase rattling after me over the stones. I could not wait for a nice, hot butterbeer.

As I entered the town of Chulainne, my heart made a leap. It looked even more beautiful and mystical than I could have imagined. Old brick-houses overgrown with ivy stood next to ruinous barns and tilted towers. The pebbles on the ground changed to bricks where the first streetlamp stood and the small way broadened to a proper street, fringed by glass bowls that lay on old black lampposts. Each contained a small magical flame, flickering with a strange bluish color. Small bats were circling the lights together with moths and what looked a bit like young pixies. The dark clouds on the horizon perfected the atmosphere of magic and mystique. Being in a much better mood than just seconds before, I walked with a certain jump in my step towards the only house from which I could hear sound. It was certainly a tavern, for I could hear music and laughter seeping through the big wooden door.

I had only walked halfway towards the tavern when suddenly I felt a lock of my hair getting ripped into the air. Swallowing a cry of agony, I whirled around while simultaneously whipping my wand out of my pocket. Of course I knew instantly what must have happened, even though I wondered why pixies were even allowed to fly freely in a town full of wizards and witches. The little blue monsters raced around my head, trying to catch my hair, my robes and even my wand. Their little sharp claws only inches away from my eyes, I got scratches all over my face. Desperately I tried to shield my wand off from the devilish little thieves. Boxing aimlessly into the air, I felt with relief that I had knocked some of them unconscious. Finally I managed to curse each pixie with the anti-pixie charm, until only a few were left. As soon as they saw their fallen comrades lying lifelessly on the ground, the let out high, deafening shrieks and raced towards the forest. Having escaped the danger, I whipped a lock of hair out of my face and with a grin on my face, I fired a last spell in the direction of the fleeing creatures. I heard a quiet "thump", as the pixies crashed together in the fishernet I had just made appear around them. It was followed by another "thump" as the bundle of pixies landed, not very gently, on the street. With a triumphant smile around my lips I picked up the net of shrieking pixies, desperately trying to escape their prison. After petrifying them all with a single spell, I shouldered the bundle and picked up my suitcase. Finally I was able to enter the tavern. The sign on the door read "Daisy Inn".

I was greeted by a gust of warm air and the mouthwatering smell of food as I opened the door, accompanied by the sound of drunken talk and laughter. Upon the rush of cold wind through the open door, all faces turned toward me and all chatter suddenly stopped. I must have made an imposing appearance, standing in the doorway, bloody face, full blond locks and a flapping lilac cloak, reminding of a picture of a war hero. The silence lasted only seconds and was broken by the innkeeper, an old, round woman with grey hair and a faint sign of a mustache. "A stranger at this time o' day. You're a bit young, aren't ya? And bloody as well. Did you kiss the street by chance?", she shouted in a deep, croaking voice. Her remark was followed by unanimous laughter. I waited until it was quiet again until I spoke, very softly and calmly, "Not the street, no. It was more like I had to keep a horde of pixies from kissing me. However they didn't handle my rejection very well", I added as I swung the bundle with unconscious pixies over my shoulder and dropped it on the floor. After a moment of awe, some people jumped out of their chairs while others whistled approvingly or simply sat there, jaws dropped and eyes wide open. Suddenly I was encircled by a crowd of people who tried to touch me and take a look at the net of pixies.

"Are those real?",

"How did you manage to paralyze them even though they're so fast?"

"Does it hurt?", asked a young red-haired girl with dimples, moving her finger along a deep cut right under my eye. "Don't worry, it's naught but a scratch"; I answered bravely, suppressing a shiver as she touched my open wound. Looking towards the bar, I saw that even the old innkeeper seemed to be impressed. As she noticed my look towards her, I could have sworn her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Leave the man alone. He doesn't need a bunch of curious idiots now. I bet he'd rather have a nice hot butterbeer, am I right? It's on the house", she shouted with a wink, in a slightly friendlier tone than before. Gratefully I waited until the crowd had made way, then I dragged my things towards the bar and sat down on a high wooden barstool. Only when I placed my elbows on the oaken bar table and let my head sink into my hands I realized just how exhausted I was. The warmth and the butterbeer made me sleepy instantly and I hardly heard it when the innkeeper placed another big jug of butterbeer in front of my face. "Extra strong. By the way, my name's Dáiríne, but you can call me Daisy", she added with what I imagine was another wink. I did not raise my eyes to look at her, instead I muttered a "Thank you. Do you have a bed?", and, after a moment of thinking, I added, "A room I mean. For rent".

She giggled in a voice that reminded me more of a little girl than an old ugly woman, then she promised me to show me to a room after I had finished my drink. I was very thankful when she did, leading me up a wooden staircase to a very spacious room with a comfortable bed and cupboards enough to store all my belongings. I could have fallen asleep while still on my feet, and when she told me that I would not have to pay for the night I could only give her a weak smile and a "thank you" before I closed the door behind me and fell into my bed, fully clothed and still covered in blood. I fell asleep instantly. My dreams were filled with pixies and werewolves sitting in front of the tavern, howling towards my window. Had I not been that tired, I would have certainly woken up and realized that the howling was not only in my head.