Summary: Muggles and Wizards alike have legends of Faerie, some grim and shadowed, some bright and beautiful. It is a twilight land between light and dark, where love and sorrow intertwine with enchantment. Twenty one years after the fall of the Dark Lord, a girl walks out of the legend and brings a very old magic to Hogwarts.
Winner of the 2008 Quicksilver Quills Best Romance Between Other Characters.
Categories: Other Pairing Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 7
Completed: Yes
Word count: 15113
Read: 25064
Published: 04/17/08
Updated: 06/29/08
1. Chapter 1 - Wands Out by indigo_mouse
2. Chapter 2 - Old Songs by indigo_mouse
3. Chapter 3 - Twilight World by indigo_mouse
4. Chapter 4 - Ballads by indigo_mouse
5. Chapter 5 - Malfoy Manor by indigo_mouse
6. Chapter 6 - Leap of Faith by indigo_mouse
7. Chapter 7 - Full Circle by indigo_mouse
Chapter 1 - Wands Out by indigo_mouse
Chapter 1 - Wands Out
~*~*~*~*~*~
Prologue:
A woman sat on the cold throne, her expression remote. Hair as dark as a raven’s wing was bound back with a moonstone circlet. A large black tomcat sat at her feet, purring. Cat and woman watched as a young man came towards them, his footsteps echoing in the twilight dimness of the empty hall. He was the boy she had loved, and the man she had left. Somehow, he had found her again.
How long since we first met? It is hard to measure time here, but it seems long ago. . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~
A girl stood on the busy train platform, watching the bustle around her. Her companion, a large black cat, sat beside her, purring and rubbing his head against her knee in comfort. Her hands were damp with nerves, although her face was calm. Keeping up appearances was important, and she was well practiced. She looked over to the carriages that waited, and to the skeletal horses that pulled them.
“Firs’ Years! This way!” boomed out a large voice.
She turned and walked towards the enormous man holding a lantern.
Crossing the water was difficult, and passing the iron gates at the castle entrance was almost as hard.
It will get easier; it will, she told herself firmly. Iron won’t really burn me; moving water will not hurt me. It’s just something I learned from the Fair Folk, because it hurts them. But I’m not one of them, it won’t hurt me.
Still, she was not calm, not composed as she stood in line with the other first year students. She breathed deeply and tried to give nothing away. She felt her heart beating fast in her chest and looked sideways to see if anyone noticed.
“Corax, Corrina.”
She stepped forward as her name was called and put the Sorting Hat on her head.
Later that evening, at the long tables full of food, she sat quietly as a pale blond boy welcomed her to Hogwarts, and to the proud house of Salazar Slytherin. She was entranced “ his handsome face was narrow and fine boned and he seemed so assured, so comfortable in this place, which was so strange to her.
“Of course it is quite an honour to be sorted into Slytherin… uh…. Corax. That’s an unusual name, not one of the old wizarding family names, is it?”
“It is an old name… so I am told. But I don’t know much about it. I was a…” she almost said, changeling, but caught herself “…adopted.” Several faces turned to her, surprised. Adoption wasn’t common among wizarding families. And not knowing who your family was would certainly be a handicap in Slytherin, where the pureness of blood was tantamount to rank.
“But your parents weren’t Muggles?” the boy persisted.
“Oh, of course not…”
What was a Muggle?
He stopped as a large, black cat appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, wound around Corrina’s legs, and jumped on the bench beside her, and peered over the table top. The cat laid back his ears and growled low in his throat.
“I’m sorry….” She laid a hand on the cat.
It’s all right, I’m not distressed. Not really. It’s just so . . . different.
“He is very protective. He has been my familiar ever since I can remember.”
And he is the only family I have in this world, the only one I can trust.
As they were led back to the Slytherin quarters, the boy stayed beside her.
“I am Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy.” She glanced sideways at him, at his handsome face and ice blue eyes. He was like a Faerie princeling, but human, solid, real. She could feel the heat rising off his skin and smell his mortality.
She seemed unnaturally composed, especially for a first year. Malfoy remembered putting on the Sorting Hat two years ago, and his apprehension; what if he wasn’t in Slytherin? What would his father say if he was in…Hufflepuff?? Or worse, Gryffindor? He would like to have been as calm as this milk pale girl, with her black hair and pale fog eyes “ strange and fascinating.
“Well, then… uh… the girl’s dormitories are to the right, your trunks will be there, and …. uh…”
Malfoy’s voice trailed off as Corrina dipped him a small graceful curtsy, murmuring, “Thank you.” She smiled at him with lowered eyes, and went to the right.
The dorm was cosy, with four poster beds and heavy velvet curtains in black and emerald green. She looked at the three other girls in the room, wondering what to do next. She was used to having a body servant, someone to help her with her lacings, but these girls were wearing clothes with unfamiliar fastenings, and there didn’t appear to be any servants at all. The cat jumped on the bed and made himself at home. He looked at her and gave her a reassuring cat smile.
She hesitated, and then went up to the girl next to her, the one with chocolate skin and an anxious look on her face.
“Please, could you help me?”
The chocolate girl looked surprised, hesitated, and said, “Sure, turn around.”
“I say! What a lovely frock!”
With her school robes off, the opulence of Corrina’s attire attracted the other girls’ attention. The heavily embroidered silk in green and the surcoat of brocade with dagged sleeves seemed to be from another time, rich and romantic.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m Nadine Zabini, by the way.”
“Eleanor Aubrey.”
“Violet Parkinson.”
“I am Corrina Corax. This is my familiar, Zwarthart”.
She curled up in the feather bed, Zwarthart warm against her back. Corrina closed her eyes, and thought of the boy who looked like a Faerie prince. She smiled as she slept.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, Corrina watched carefully as the other girls prepared for the day, copying how they used the fixtures that produced hot and cold water. As she followed them into the main hall, she stopped and gaped at the ceiling.
“Oh yes, it’s enchanted to look like the weather outside,” one of the second-year Slytherin girls told her with a slight sneer. “Didn’t your parents let you know what to expect?”
Corrina looked at her a little wildly, unable to tell her that it wasn’t the appearance of the ceiling that caused her reaction but the sight of the sky. Enchanted or true, this was the first blue sky that she had seen since she was a very small child. Her heart was beating rapidly, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground was falling away from her.
“Shut it, Pucey.”
Malfoy’s voice came from behind them. Audrey Pucey eyed him speculatively and with a toss of her hair seated herself with other girls in her class. They put their heads together and giggled, sneaking glances at Malfoy as he went and sat with his cadre of third year boys.
Zwarthart appeared and lightly jumped to the bench beside Corrina. He looked over at Audrey, pulled back his lips, and hissed. Corrina couldn’t but agree with him. With a final glare, he curled up against her leg and accepted the bits of breakfast she fed to him.
“Don’t mind her,” whispered Nadine from Corrina’s other side. “She thinks she is so grand, but my brother says she’s just a half-blood bully.” Corrina smiled at her as schedules were handed out. She glanced at hers and followed the other Slytherins to their first class.
~*~*~*~*~*~
A tall, stern-looking witch watched the new students walk in, automatically spotting the potential troublemakers. Years of practice had made her proficient, but she was certain that this group of first years could not be as much of a handful as her third year class where she had had a Weasley, a Potter and a Malfoy. Why the headmaster insisted on scheduling Slytherin and Gryffindor together was something she found beyond her comprehension.
As she demonstrated some minor transfiguration, she noticed that the girl in the back row never looked straight at her. That was unusual, since turning the desk into a pig and back normally made an impression on the students. The girl didn’t seem to be taking notes, either. She was playing with her quill, as if she had never handled one before.
“All right class, please take out your wands and pass back the matches. The assignment today is to attempt to turn them into needles. Miss Corax, since you don’t seem to need to take notes, perhaps you can demonstrate the technique to the class?”
Corrina froze and looked up straight into her eyes. Unconsciously, Professor McGonagall took a small step back at the shock. They were such strange looking eyes, as pale as if the pigment had been faded by the passage of time.
“Well? Wand out, if you don’t need to take notes. Perhaps you do need to practice?”
Corrina reached into her bag slowly and carefully dragged out her wand by the merest tips of her fingernails. She dropped it quickly and looked up, trying to smile. McGonagall looked back at her. Most of the class had now turned to watch the stand off and the Gryffindors were elbowing each other and snickering. Nadine sat beside Corrina and bit her lip, worriedly.
“Go on,” she whispered. “Pick it up and use it.”
Corrina looked at her, swallowed and picked up the wand. A wave of heat went up her arm; her hair crackled and stood on end. Showers of red, blue and emerald sparks burst out the tip and exploded across the room, igniting several tables and a couple of heads of hair. Students screamed and ducked under desks.
“Drop it, DROP IT!!” shouted Professor McGonagall as she put out the fires.
After the smoke cleared and students had been sent off to the infirmary to have their burns treated, Professor McGonagall dismissed the class, dissipating the lingering reek of burned hair with a practiced swish of her wand.
“Miss Corax, stay behind, please.”
Corrina sat with her head low as the class trooped out. The last Gryffindor, a red-headed girl, passed her and looked down at the perfect, silver needle on the table beside Corrina’s wand.
“Well, I don’t suppose you needed to take notes, did you?” Lily Potter muttered, and the door clicked shut behind her.
“Miss Corax, where did you procure this wand?”
Corrina rose and eyes lowered, curtseyed.
“Madam, after I received my letter the wand was delivered to . . . the place I live. It was made for me by Master Ollivander.”
“You may address me as Professor, Miss Corax, and you needn’t stand when you speak, not that politeness in a student is to be discouraged. Now, if I may, I would like to examine your wand.”
Corrina nodded, and McGonagall picked up the wand.
“It is . . . rowan? That’s an unusual choice. And what is the core?”
“I believe it is . . . a hair.”
“Hmmm . . . .” She put down the wand.
“Now, I am not an expert in wandlore, but I do know that wands help us focus magic. Your magic does not seem to be in need of focusing. Your magic appears to be in need of controlling.”
Crossing her arms and looking stern, she fixed Corrina with a beady stare.
“I think you would benefit from wand practice. Preferably outdoors, away from flammable objects.”
Professor McGonagall picked up the silver needle.
“Successful completion of one minor transformation does not make you an expert. I would like a three foot essay on techniques used in elementary Transformation by Monday next. And I will be assigning you a tutor to help you with your wand practice.”
“That is all. You may go, Miss Corax.”
Corrina bit her lip. She could feel a little bubble of panic in her chest, and she fought to keep it from rising to her throat.
“Madam, surely the essay is not needed?”
“That is all, Miss Corax. You are dismissed to your next class.”
Corrina walked out towards the greenhouses, feeling the panic bubble bobbing in her chest. As she opened the door, a tall, round-faced man turned towards her. She paused and looked around. Everything was green and growing. For the first time since she had arrived to Hogwarts, she felt herself relax. She sniffed the warm, rich smell of earth appreciatively and smiled as she bobbed a curtsey, her eyes demurely lowered.
Neville Longbottom’s eyebrows reached above his protective glasses.
“Well, this must be our misplaced student, Miss Corax. Please take a seat and a pair of glasses, and we will continue.”
Nadine whispered, “Was she mad? Did you get detention?”
Corrina shook her head, and turned to watch the demonstration.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Scorpius looked around the common room. It was the end of the first week, and the room was full of Slytherins renewing their rivalries and friendships.
“Does anyone know where Corax went?” he asked.
“She’s probably out on the grounds . . . again.”
Audrey Pucey’s voice held more than a hint of scorn.
“She was out there crying after Potions this afternoon, and I heard that she giggled all through Professor Binns’ History of Magic class. What d’you think could be so funny about that dreary old berk?”
“Back off, Pucey.”
“I will if you make me,” Audrey simpered, batting her eyes. “I don’t know why you want to find that vile, little thing. And that cat . . . it’s vicious.”
“I’m to tutor her on wand handling.”
“Huh, imagine not knowing how to use a wand! What a laugh. And now she gets special tutoring. I don’t suppose she is a pure-blood. How can she even be a half-blood and not know how to handle a wand?”
Scorpius gave her a disgusted look and walked out.
~*~*~*~*~*~
He stood on the castle grounds, looking around indecisively. He didn’t know her well enough to know where she might be, and he hadn’t thought of picking up an item of hers to use with a Locating Spell. Now that he thought of it, she didn’t leave things lying around the common room. She was remarkably unobtrusive.
Something bumped against his leg and he looked down at the large black cat. Zwarthart turned and walked away, paused to see if he was following, and with an impatient twitch of his tail headed towards the Forbidden Forest.
Corrina was sitting on a boulder at the edge of a clearing, holding out her hand to thin air.
“What are you doing?”
“Petting the thestrals.”
Tearstains marked her cheeks, as she stroked the invisible animals. Scorpius had heard of thestrals, but until now, hadn’t really believed in them.
“You can see them?”
He shook his head, wondering who she had seen die, and trying to decide if he was jealous; it seemed like it would be cool and worldly “ to be able to see thestrals.
“Right. Wand practice. Do you have your wand with you?”
She nodded and carefully fished it out of her robes.
An hour an a half later, Scorpius stopped. As he stooped to scratch Zwarthart, who had deigned to rub against him, he smiled to himself.
She’s a quick study, all right. Lots of ability there, and she pays attention. Pretty rare, that.
It was good to have some fresh talent in Slytherin house; it wouldn’t do to be outdone by the Gryffindors . . . especially with the new Potter girl in the first year class. It was all he could do to stay ahead of the Weasley girl in his class. He knew she was a cousin of some sort, but there was something between their parents . . . something awkward in the past that his father had never come out and said.
“You seem to be getting the hang of it. And I would say that if all you got for lighting half the Gryffindors’ heads on fire was a three foot essay, you got off easy from McGonagall.”
He straightened up and the smile dropped off his face.
“What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
Corrina had dissolved in silent tears. She shook her head and took a shuddering breath, struggling for control.
“I . . . I can’t write the essay.”
“Oh come on! It’s not that long.”
She looked at him through welling eyes.
“I don’t know how to write.”
“You don’t know how to write? Can you read at least?”
She dropped her head and shook it.
“All right,” he took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. Well, I guess I can tutor you on that too. Just do me a favour, can you?”
She nodded wordlessly, giving him a watery smile in the growing twilight.
“Don’t tell Audrey Pucey any of this. She’ll just rag on you about it and on me too.”
They turned and walked towards the castle, Zwarthart bounding through the frost-bleached grass, chasing dust and twilight shadows.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
Many thanks to Naycit of Perfect Imagination for Beta Reading.
Chapter 2 - Old Songs by indigo_mouse
Chapter 2 - Old Songs
“How is it, Corax, that one can never find you on the train, yet you always seem to be here on the platform when we arrive?”
Corrina looked around as Audrey Pucey walked up to her and stood just a little too close.
“I wouldn’t think you’d look very hard for me.”
“Believe me, I wasn’t looking for you at all, but others were.”
In the last two months, Audrey had gone from a gawky third year with overlarge hands and feet to a tall and imposing fourth year. With narrowed eyes, Audrey took in the slight, childlike figure in flowing green robes.
“What’s with you and Scorpius, anyway? He’s too old and smart to be interested in a kid like you.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
Corrina looked back blandly. It wasn’t like the first few months at Hogwarts where she had lost her composure again and again. Those memories still made her squirm in embarrassment. Now she felt like she belonged.
Be careful, Pucey, this world is familiar now, and I am more than able to stand up for myself. Don’t ask for the kind of trouble you can’t handle.
“I mean...” But Corrina had turned her back and walked away, smiling inwardly at the cut. Pucey fumed at the insult.
Corrina followed Zwarthart down the line of carriages, stoking the noses of the thestrals as she passed. She didn’t care what it looked like to the students who couldn’t see them; they knew what it meant that she could.
Zwarthart picked a carriage and jumped into it and Corrina followed, expecting to see Scorpius, or Nadine Zabini. Instead, she was face to face with a family of Gryffindors. She blinked at Lily Potter, who had an orange tabby cat on her knee and a surprised look on her face.
Zwarthart had his paws up on Lily’s knee, nose to nose with the affronted looking tabby. Corrina suppressed a laugh.
“I’m sorry to intrude! But I’m afraid that Zwarthart had motivations of his own in picking this carriage.”
Eyes turned to the cats; the tabby was now washing Zwarthart’s ears.
“And who exactly are you?” asked Rose Weasley.
“This is Corrina Corax, and she’s in third year, like me,” Lily responded. She smiled tentatively at Corrina.
“Aren’t you a Slytherin?” asked Albus. His older brother, James, frowned at him, and then raised an eyebrow at the intruder.
“Yes, I am. But what does that matter? Are you going to throw us out of the carriage? I’m afraid that would disappoint the lady cat.”
Zwarthart was now licking the tabby’s ears. She responded with a hiss and boxed his head. He growled back.
“Look, I think it is love!” Corrina chortled. The atmosphere relaxed, and the conversation turned to the doings of the summer, stale gossip from the previous term, and speculation on the identity of the new Divination teacher, now that Professor Trelawney had finally retired.
As the group disembarked at the castle, Corrina spotted Scorpius looking around for her. His handsome face clouded when he saw who she was with.
“What were you doing with them?” he hissed. “I was holding a seat for you.”
Placing her hand on his sleeve, Corrina smiled up at him. She could feel a pulse of heat warm her at the touch.
“Just… making some new friends. Zwarthart was enamoured by the tabby cat.”
An eye roll told her how welcome that thought was.
“Just try and stay out of trouble, ok? The oldest Potter boy can’t be trusted, you know. He likes a laugh, and he doesn’t care who he hurts to get one.”
“Well, isn’t this sweet? Playing the big brother to poor pathetic adopted girls now, are you, Malfoy?” Audrey’s voice dripped poison from behind. “How touching.”
Scorpius glowered at Pucey, glared at Corrina, turned and stalked off into the Great Hall.
“Don’t forget, Corax, you aren’t good enough for a Malfoy, and he knows it too.”
As Pucey sauntered off with a bevy of other fourth year girls, Nadine Zabini touched Corrina’s shoulder.
“What’s that all about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Corrina said, staring after Pucey, “nothing important.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Corrina carefully lifted her harp out of its layers of oiled cloth, her hands gently tracing the raven carved at the head. Settling it on her lap, she ran her hands over the silver strings, grimaced and began tuning.
The door to the dormitory opened, and Nadine paused to listen to the music. The sound filled the confined space as Nadine edged in to the room. Corrina smiled a welcome at her and kept playing. The final notes rolled like waves onto the shore and the girls looked at each other.
“Any requests?”
“Oh, the “The Elven Knight”, do you know that?”
Corrina laughed and started playing the old song of impossible love.
“Love imposes impossible tasks,
But none more than any heart would ask,
I must know you're a true love of mine.”
Nadine’s voice rose pure and strong over the silver harp notes. The two girls lost themselves in the pleasure of creating music, inhabiting a reality all their own.
When the song ended, they shared their delight in a wordless smile.
“The song is like you and Scorpius, you know, you keep yourselves apart with the most ridiculous things.”
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what everyone thinks. Except for Pucey, she thinks that one of these days Scorpius is going to get hit with a Bludger and fall for her.”
“Not much danger of that then, he is much too good a Chaser. And anyway, we are friends, thats all.” Corrina changed the subject. ”Nadine, I didn’t know you could sing. You have perfect pitch, and that is a real gift.”
Nadine blushed, “Oh, it’s just something I can do; I didn’t really do anything to deserve it.”
“What nonsense. Of course you deserve it. It’s wonderful to play for someone who can sing so well. Come on, let’s go down to the common room, I want to hear how we sound in a stone hall.” Corrina’s eyes sparkled.
“In the common room, I don’t know…”
“Why not? It’s our common room too, not just Pussy-foot Pucey’s,” Corrina’s face hardened. “I’d like to play. Later in the term, it will be full of people studying, but surely no one is now. Come now, it’s not only Gryffindors who should have courage.”
Corrina swept out of the room, and Nadine followed, wondering at the change in her normally quiet and unobtrusive friend.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Snow was deep on the castle grounds. The twelve Christmas trees stood in splendour as Nadine and Corrina sat in the Great Hall making music. Nadine’s ethereal voice soared above the harp. Lily Potter paused by the entrance and was captured by the sound. As the music rose to a crescendo and closed, she came forward.
“That sounds amazing,” she blushed, “could I, you know, join in?”
Nadine looked daggers at her, after all, this was her music, the one thing she was really good at, and to share it with a Gryffindor….
“Why don’t we give it a try?” suggested Corrina, raising her eyebrows at Nadine, who reluctantly nodded.
Fingers rose to the harp strings and Lily’s strong alto harmonized and supported the pure sweetness of Nadine’s voice. The Great Hall rang with the beauty of the music and snow gently fell outside.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“What are you up to?” Scorpius looked furious and grabbed Corrina’s arm as they passed in the corridor, his usually pale face flushed.
“I told you to stay away from the Potters.”
“If you are going to lecture me, I might remind you that you are keeping awfully close company with that Weasley girl. Studying together “ hmm? And anyway, what’s it to you who I play music with?”
“Oh come on Corrina, I’m just trying to look out for you.”
That’s the problem, you are always looking out for me, but you never really look at me. You don’t see that I’m not a little girl anymore..
Corrina glared into his ice-blue eyes. He frowned back. The soft fog colour of her eyes belied the fierce expression on her face.
“You’re just a kid, Corrina,” he said, slowly, “I’m taking care of you, like I have from the first time I tutored you, remember?”
“I remember. But you are growing up, and I am too… I’m not a child anymore.”
In the last year Scorpius had shot up, his shoulders had broadened and he was starting to look like the man he would become. Corrina was still small, her child’s figure just hinting at curves, but she spoke almost like an adult. It was a disconcerting combination and her composure seemed almost eerie at times.
“Don’t make this complicated, Corrina,” he begged. “Isn’t it enough that I have OWLs this year? And then there is all the Quidditch practice…. I don’t need to worry about someone making a fool of you.”
Corrina looked down at where his hand still rested on her arm. She put a finger under the sleeve of his robe and traced it down his forearm, the harp calluses gently scratching his skin, and folded her small hand into his.
She looked up into his eyes again, this time her expression was soft and guileless.
“Come on, let’s go out on the grounds and visit the thestrals. It’s spring you know, and they must miss us. I will tell you all about Lily and Nadine, and the singing group. And if you are nice to me, later I will play for you, as a special treat.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lake water sparkled in the sun as students lounged around under the trees. Corrina sat alone on a boulder, softly playing. A gang of fifth years were nearby, speculating on their OWLs. Soon it would be time to pack up and board the train.
Footsteps drew near, and she stilled the harp strings. Scorpius gazed down at her.
“I was wondering …. Will you be taking the train back to London? I never see you on it, you know.”
“Did Pussy-Foot tell you to ask?”
Scorpius’ face darkened “No… but she isn’t the only one who has noticed. You don’t ride the train, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Corrina, it’s been almost three years. Don’t you trust me enough to tell me where you are from? I mean, I know you’re adopted… but ….you must know it won’t matter to me what kind of blood you have, or who brought you up. I’m still your friend, and I always will be.”
Corrina bit her lip, and looked up. The sun was behind Scorpius, dazzling.
That must be what’s making my eyes tear.
“I can’t tell you. Someday soon, but I can’t tell you now.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I do, but . . . I can’t explain . . . . I want to, but I can’t . . . .”
It was a helpless feeling. She couldn’t tell him where she came from, any more than she could explain the thousand little things that made her different. He would have to take what she said on trust, or not at all.
“Well, if you really can’t . . . I guess I can understand. C’mon, let’s go and find the thestrals. They will miss you all summer, you know . . . .”
A strong hand helped her up. The tall, slender boy and the slight girl turned their backs on the sun and the lake and walked towards the Forbidden Forest.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
The lyrics are from “The Elfin Knight”, one of the 305 English and Scottish ballads that were collected, along with some of their American counterparts, by Francis James Child in the late 19th century. The best-known variant of “The Elfin Knight” is "Scarborough Fair", which was recorded by Simon & Garfunkel, among others.
Thanks to Naycit of Perfect Imagination for Beta Reading!
Chapter 3 - Twilight World by indigo_mouse
Chapter 3 - Twilight World
It was cool under the eaves of the Forbidden Forest as Corrina sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, listening. Soon she would hear the Hogwarts Express pull out of the station, and then it would be time for her to return to the twilight world that was her home. Zwarthart wove around her, rubbed against her knees for comfort, and then settled next to her, purring.
They waited. Finally, a distant whistle sounded and they could hear the train pull away. Zwarthart’s ears pricked up and he mewed softly, his tail beating a quick tempo on the loam.
“We will see them soon. It is only a couple of months. Your lady cat will not forget you.”
Corrina got up and shook the leaf litter off her green robes, and with a lingering last look at the castle, walked into the forest. She seemed to turn a corner and fade into the distance. Zwarthart bounded after her.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Some time later, Corrina entered a clearing where the remnants of a picnic lay scattered.
“Raven! Little birdling, you are back!” exclaimed a lean figure who was lying supine, his head pillowed on the lap of a slender woman who seemed to be wearing nothing but leaves.
“You were not gone long, were you? Or, perhaps you were. I can never keep track.” The leafy woman carelessly brushed her hair back with a rustling noise.
“I have been gone three seasons, Willow. It is almost Midsummer’s Eve! So, now are you keeping company with Fox? Have you nothing better to do?” teased Corrina.
“It passes the time.” Willow smiled, and delicately stroked the head on her lap. “He is a fine figure, is he not? And . . . so useful when there is news to be sniffed out. Not that he shares all that he knows. So sly, this one is.”
“And what news is there? There were parts of the journey that were . . . dark . . . .” She shivered. “I don’t remember so much darkness before.”
Fox sat up and brushed his long red hair out of his eyes, revealing his pointed ears. He picked up a chicken bone, considered it, and then tossed it away.
“No news that is good. But come, you have just returned! We must have a feast!”
“Oh yes! A feast . . . and dancing. There must be dancing.” Willow straightened to her full, and rather startling height, took Corrina’s hands, and twirled around with her.
“Come, let us go and prepare . . . . You need new robes; look, you are growing out of these ones! I see ankle and wrist that did not show before!” Laughing, Willow swept Corrina out of the clearing and towards a hall whose many windows gleamed in the twilit distance.
Fox and Zwarthart watched them go.
“And did all go well this year? Have you tales of mortal folly and foibles to share?”
Zwarthart meowed and his tail twitched.
“What, still just a cat? How amusing! I would have thought that you would have tired of the role by now. But no, she has your true name, doesn’t she? And so you must stay a cat until she gives you leave.”
Fox smiled mockingly. “Unless there is another reason? Romance, perhaps? Dear, dear, how droll that would be.”
Zwarthart growled, and batted Fox’s bare arm, claws not quite retracted. Laughing, Fox fended him off, stood and, with a graceful bow, took his leave.
With narrowed eyes, Zwarthart watched him disappear into the wood, away from the hall. Alone in the meadow, he started his own toilette for the feast.
~*~*~*~*~*~
How long it had lasted, Corrina could not say. As with any Faerie festivity, the company ranged from the elegant to the grotesque. Some looked almost human, but just a little too tall, or a little too slender, their attenuated limbs a little too elegant. Their hair and features were so bright and sharp that you could cut yourself on them.
Others were as fanciful as gargoyles, with fur or leaves or feathers instead of hair and eyebrows. The rafters above softly rustled as creatures with butterflies’ wings perched and preened.
Here and there were mortals, like and yet unlike Corrina. There had never been many changelings at the court of the Black King, and now there was only her.
Few humans had ever called Faerie home. Most came in their dreams or were there for a night, or a week, or a year and a day. Beautiful women came and danced as if under a spell, and the harpers and bards who played for the Fair Folk’s enjoyment returned to the sunlit world with tales and songs, the magic of Faerie translated into the magic of music.
A dance ended, and Corrina curtsied to her partner, a thistledown-haired dandy elegantly clad in the green brocade of another century. As she drifted away, a tiny electric blue being flew up and perched on her shoulder.
“The King wishes to see you,” it said in its shrill little voice, and led her to where the Black King sat at his ease. She dropped a deep curtsy in respectful reverence, and took the stool indicated.
“Sit with me awhile. Will you tell me of your schooling, Raven?”
“Gladly, Sire.”
As she recounted the year’s tale, it seemed that the lights dimmed and a velvety darkness overtook the far reaches of the hall, leaving them in a soft pool of light. The king stirred.
“You are growing to womanhood, little fledgling.”
She looked down at the inlaid floor.
“Yes, I know. It is time, past time . . . but . . . .”
“You are afraid, are you not? Do not be so; it comes to all of us, to grow and to age. It cannot be held back forever, even by me.”
The king reached out his hand and pushed back a strand of the dark hair that tumbled over her forehead, tucking it behind her ear and cupping her chin for a moment. His fingers were cool.
“It was inevitable, now that you have gone back into the world, that the passage of time would change you. My magic kept you a child whilst you dwelt here, save for your eyes . . . . I remember when they were a bright blue . . . . They have faded to gray.”
She looked steadily into his deep, calm eyes. He had the appearance of early manhood, with a narrow face and high, scarred cheekbones. A delicate band of silver set with moonstones glimmered on his brow and kept back the dark hair that fell in tiny dreadlocks to his shoulders. His looked back at her, the merest smile creasing his cheeks.
“There is a legend, Sire, of how a Lord of Faerie abducted the daughter of a goddess, and kept her by his side,” said Corrina. “And her mother found her and begged her release, but the foolish girl had eaten seven pomegranate seeds, and so must spend seven months of the year here. Shall I be like the goddesses’ daughter? Shall I always be walking between the worlds, never belonging to either one?”
His smile grew enigmatic.
“Be easy; we will talk of this later. For now, you are in need of rest. Come, Cricket will take you to your quarters.”
Corrina followed the little creature to her rooms. It was strange, after the school year just past, to have a servant attend her again, to help her with her lacings and brush her hair. She fell into her bed and slept, as always in this place, without dreams.
~*~*~*~*~*~
When she opened her eyes she could feel the warmth of Zwarthart pressed against her back. She smiled sleepily. If there had been one constant in her life, it was this large, black tomcat.
She supposed the Black King had taken her on a whim. She did not even know if he had left a changeling to sicken and die in her place, or if her parents had mourned her loss. In the last year, she had learned how to use the rowan wand to conjure up an image from her past. In it, a fair-haired woman sat spinning in front of a peat fire, a man harped in the background, and children played jacks. Their faces were indistinct, just out of focus. Had this been her family?
When she finally arose, there was a platter of food waiting for her. She paused, caught by a thought.
If it had contained pomegranate seeds, would I eat them? If I had the choice truly to belong here, would I take it?
The Faerie had always been careful to give her food from the human world. She had been told that if she ate the food of this land she would never be able to return to the mortal world.
I always thought that had meant that they didn’t want to keep me. But it also means I could leave and never return. It means I have choices.
It seemed to be a misty morning, a morning without blue sky or sun. She looked out at the wild and tangled garden framed in the window and she thought about growing up.
It had been a lonely existence, watching the shifting allegiances of the Faerie court, never sure quite where she herself stood. She had been on the outside; watching the Black King gain and hold power, watching him bring order and peace to the chaos that preceded him. She had played at being a part of this world, played at belonging here, but now she had the chance to belong in the human world, if she dared.
It’s not only Gryffindors who should have courage.
She thought of the advice she had given Nadine and smiled. She had started to weave her own net of alliances and friendships, mortal ones, but strong with the strength of magic all the same.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The season passed as so many seasons had, with feasts and hunts, play and mock battle. Corrina was amused and gratified to see how much stronger she had become. She could hold her own against Willow in a contest of magical skill, and sometimes, incredibly, draw even with Fox’s wily trickery.
Once again the four were picnicking in the clearing, thestrals browsing on the discarded chicken carcasses. Corrina was idly enchanting some of bones so they flew around for Zwarthart’s entertainment. Fox and Willow sat close, feeding each other bits of this and that.
“Tell me, Fox,” said Corrina suddenly, “what did you mean when you said that there was no news that was good?”
Fox sighed.
“You know that in the twilight lands of Faerie there has always been a measure of both Darkness and Light. But sometimes, the Darkness grows too strong.” His tone was foreboding.
Corrina shifted uneasily. Zwarthart stopped his game as the bones fell to the ground and came to her, rubbing against her in comfort. She put her arms around the big cat and felt the reassuring vibration of his purr.
“So serious, Fox?” She tried to make her voice light and playful, and failed.
“I have seen the Darkness grow and ebb, in my time. It always has, and that is the way of things. But there is no room for joy when the Darkness rules. There is no room for love. And these past score seasons it has been growing stronger.”
“The Black King is preparing,” Willow said in a reassuring tone. “He has been a good leader, and the Fair Folk will follow him. Even now he is away, inspecting fortifications, treating with allies.”
“Do not worry, little Raven, the danger is not here yet. We can still be carefree for a while longer.”
But the ease had gone out of the day, and Corrina looked at the shadowy twilight around her. Was it dimmer? She shivered, glad that in a short while she would be back at Hogwarts, where her friends awaited, and the biggest threat was the spiteful tongue of a teenage girl.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
This story contains a small homage to Suzanna Clark's novel Jonathon Strange and Mr Norrell. This is a wonderful book, especially if you like Jane Austin, historical fiction and magical fantasy.
Rhi for HP, of PI and MNFF is my delightful Beta.
Chapter 4 - Ballads by indigo_mouse
Chapter 4 - Ballads
The last notes rolled into silence in the Great Hall. Huge lantern-carved pumpkins glowed in the corners of the room and live bats decorated the ceiling. Corrina stilled the harp strings and sat with eyes lowered, listening for the hush that follows true music, the stillness that is the highest accolade.
When the applause died away, Hugo Weasley stepped forward.
“Legend has it that our last song has been played in the Faerie King’s court itself. We hope you enjoy it”
With her head held high on her graceful neck, Nadine joined him on stage.
“The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
And neither have I wings to fly.”
It had seemed natural for Hugo to join the trio of girls last year; he was Lily’s cousin after all, and the sound of his guitar harmonized with Corrina’s raven-headed lap harp.
His tenor mingled with Nadine’s soaring voice in their a cappella duet.
“Give me a boat, that will carry two,
And both shall row, my love and I.”
The two singers’ eyes met with a bemused expression, as they stepped back and barrel-chested Rory MacCrimmon stepped forward. His Scottish burr filled the hall.
“O, love be bonnie, an’ love be bright,
A little time while it is new!”
He was uncommonly large and burly for a fifteen year old, and somehow one did not expect a Muggle-born Hufflepuff to have such . . . a pugnacious presence, Corrina mused.
“But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld,
And fades awa' like morning dew.”
It had been something of a surprise when Rory had demanded an audition in the month just past. They were all in their fifth year, and the thought of OWLs had been the centre of their concern until…
“The bagpipes? The BAGPIPES? How can bagpipes possibly work?” Nadine was outraged. “Who ever heard of BAGPIPES in a group?”
“Me, for one, an’ me parents for two more,” said Rory, the high colour in his cheeks giving the lie to his calm tone.
Nadine sputtered a while longer, finally allowing Hugo to persuade her to give his friend a chance. The bushy-haired Ravenclaw could coax Nadine into doing almost anything, eventually.
Corrina watched the House tables as Lily joined Rory.
“Give me a boat, that will carry two,
And both shall row, my love and I.
And both shall row, my love and I.”
As all four voices rose in the final stanza, Corrina found herself locked eye to eye with Scorpius.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It was cold at the top of the Astronomy Tower. The moon shone gibbous in the sky.
The five friends had sneaked up to the tower on Corrina’s insistence. Bottles of butterbeer, empty and full, told of the celebration of their performance. But rather than join in the chatter, Corrina sat quietly apart, watching and reflective.
It’s a good thing that Hugo and Nadine are in different Houses.
The two had turned into the kind of couple that finished each other’s sentences, and were at great pains to explain to the world at large just how wonderful the other was. The saving grace for their friends was that they could not be together all the time.
Rory and Lily, on the other hand, were prickly and combative, constantly competitive. But of late, Lily seemed to look upon him with a kindlier eye.
Surely two people that strike sparks like flint and steel will not be able to resist each other for long.
Corrina felt isolated, alone in the world. She turned her head to watch Zwarthart prowling the top of the tower with Lily’s tabby cat, hunting for only they knew what. At a slight noise, the tabby turned, arched her back, and hissed.
The door to the tower had opened, and Scorpius stood there, his wand lit and his expression grim.
“What are you lot doing up here? It’s off limits and you know that as well as I do.”
“Oh don’t be such a Head Boy! We were going to sing down the moon tonight!” Corrina called from her perch.
“You will be doing no such thing. You’ll be getting yourselves back to your Houses and you’ll be doing it right now.”
Rory’s eyes started to narrow, ready to retort. But Lily grabbed his arm.
“Not now, you idiot! Let’s go!”
Grumbling, Rory allowed himself to be dragged off, while a contrite Nadine and an apologetic Hugo followed.
“And what about you? Think you’re above the rules?” asked Scorpius as he extinguished his wand with a quiet “Nox”.
“Well, from up here, perhaps I am.”
Corrina had stood up on the battlement. The breeze tugged at her robes and tangled her dark hair. She balanced precariously for a moment looking down at Scorpius’ upturned face.
“Get down from there! What if you fall? It’s not like you can fly!”
Scorpius was exasperated and a little afraid. Corrina looked half wild, as if she might do any foolish thing that came into her mind.
“Can’t I? Perhaps I should try!”
As she jumped down the rising wind knocked her off balance and she stumbled against him. Flushing, she turned back to the battlements to hide her discomfort and gazed at the night sky.
It was cold and clear and the stars looked close enough to grasp. The wind rushed through the forest leaves, tearing down the last bit of autumn splendour. From far off came a lonely and wild sound.
“It is Samhain, and tonight the Wild Hunt rides.” Corrina’s eyes glittered in the light of the setting moon as she cut a sideways glance at the pale shadow that had joined her.
I only hear geese.
“They say…” Corrina’s voice was soft. “They say that tonight the King of the Fair Folk leads his fey huntsman and their fell hounds across the skies, to gather up the lost souls and take them back to Faerie. Do you think I should go with them?”
“No, I think you should stay here. . . ” he whispered and slipped his arm around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She leaned her head against him with a sigh and put her arm around his waist, her smile faintly surprised.
~*~*~*~*~*~
When Corrina finally opened the door to the dormitory, Nadine was ready to pounce.
“Muffliato!” With a quick swish of her wand, Nadine made sure their conversation would be private.
“Well? Well? What HAPPENED?”
Corrina blushed. She would have preferred to get quietly into bed and keep her feelings to herself, but Nadine was not to be denied.
“Nothing, really.”
“Don’t give me that! I got back here an hour ago. Something happened, I know it did. You wouldn’t have that look on your face if nothing had happened!”
“He put his arm around me.”
“And? AND?”
“And then we talked for a bit.”
“AND?”
“And he kissed me.” Corrina blushed furiously.
Nadine threw herself back on her bed in rapture.
“I knew it, I knew it. You two were meant for each other, anyone can see that! It’s like when Hugo and I. . . .”
“I don’t know that anyone has ever said that.” Corrina cut her off quickly. The last thing she needed was yet another recitation of the sterling qualities of Hugo Weasley.
‘Hmm, that’s just because they haven’t said it to you. I’ve heard it plenty of times.” Nadine smirked. “Just wait ‘til Pucey finds out, she’s been after Scorpius since day one!”
And with that final thought the two girls curled up in their beds, Corrina replaying the memories of the evening in her mind until she fell asleep smiling.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Winter had a gentle hand that year. It was cold only to the degree that curling up together before a cosy fire was necessary. Snow fell softly, leaving the castle and forest gently blanketed, transforming the familiar into something new and beautiful.
It seemed that the season held its breath, while love slowly took root, waiting for the warmth of spring to grow and flower.
The news that the pure-blooded Head Boy was involved with a girl whose family was completely unknown spread through the school at the speed of an excited whisper. Depending on their background students were either titillated or horrified. It was a nine-day wonder, and then accepted and forgotten, with one notable exception.
“Don’t mind Pucey,” said Scorpius reassuringly, his arm around Corrina’s shoulders as they walked in the April sunshine to the lake to skip rocks and tickle the giant squid’s tentacles. “She is all talk. Just jealous. Harmless, really.”
“I suppose so,” replied Corrina, a frown creasing her brow. “But she has a wicked tongue. And she enjoys using it. She practically had Nadine in tears the other day.”
“Nadine needs to stop worrying so much about what other people think and stand up for herself. I know you have her under your wing, but she needs to fly on her own.”
“This from the heights of your knowledge as a seventh year, I suppose?” Corrina teased.
“I’m Head Boy, too, don’t forget that. It counts.”
“Yes, it does, just don’t be too big-headed about it!” Corrina laughed and hugged him tight.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Corrina rubbed her eyes and yawned. As Scorpius’ NEWTs and her OWLs drew nearer, they seemed to be spending what little time they had together across a library table, studying.
Idly she flicked her wand and whispered, “Expecto Patronum!” The silvery form circled her head and few into the stacks of books, narrowly missing Audrey Pucey’s glaring face.
“Have you told your parents? That you want to be an Auror?”
“Yes.” Scorpius frowned. “My father didn’t seem to like the idea. But it’s exciting, not like living off the family gold at the Manor. Although, it’s not like there is anything very organised to fight against. The glory days are gone, I suppose.”
Corrina looked away. She had heard the rumours, that Draco Malfoy had been a Death Eater. That Scorpius’s grandfather had hosted the Dark Lord. Scorpius was clever and ambitious. Perhaps becoming an Auror would wash out some of the taint that had stained the family line.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to study a little harder,” Scorpius said acerbically. “OWLs have a written portion, not just a practical one.”
Corrina had just opened her mouth to reply when Madam Pince, furious at the flagrant use of magic in the library, swooped down, Pucey smirking behind her.
Well, at least I have an excuse to go down to the Forest. I’d much rather do that than study Potions anyway. . . .
This time the thestrals’ meadow had another visitor. Fox sat on a boulder, smiling slyly.
“Studying hard, I see . . . .”
“Oh, its just exams. I don’t care about exams, much. What difference does it make what I learn here, anyhow?”
“What difference . . . ? Did you ever wonder why the Black King went to all the trouble to get you a wand and send you to this . . . this . . . ridiculous school for wizards?”
Fox regarded her thoughtfully. It was not an expression she was used to seeing on his pointed face.
“Raven, you are already very strong, and you will grow even stronger as you learn more. You know that the Darkness is growing; you have felt it.”
“Yes, I have; crossing between the worlds; the heavy mist and despair, as if all happiness had been drained out of me. . . .” Shivering, she ran her fingers over her wand, thinking of the Patronus charm that she had learned, of the happy memory that produced the silver bird.
“Not so long ago the wizarding world battled Darkness. Our turn is coming, and soon. It will take all we have to defend against it. And just like the Black King, you belong with us and not with this world.”
Fox read her surprise.
“Oh yes, the Black King is a mortal, or at least he was. He has been in Faerie long enough to start changing into “ what is it? Something “rich and strange”, as the poet says. . . .”
I belong here. Not in Faerie.
“If the Darkness wins in Faerie it will be felt in the mortal world, too. It will affect everything you hold dear here. Remember that, Raven, when it comes time to make your choice.”
“I have a choice?”
“Of course, you do.”
I belong here. Not in Faerie. Here. Don’t I?
~*~*~*~*~*~
Warm sunlight sparkled on the distant lake. NEWTs were over, and so were OWLs, and they had just a little time left before Scorpius would be graduating from Hogwarts.
“I would never have thought you would work so hard for your Potions OWL, Corrina,” said Scorpius. “I thought you hated it.”
“Well, I guess you must have inspired me.”
And the knowledge could be useful, no matter what. . . .
“You have certainly been more studious this spring. You’re really getting serious about this. You’re top of the class, now, and that’s saying something with that Weasley boy around. Even if he is in your music group, you must admit he is a self-righteous prig sometimes. Always wants to be tops, too. . . . ”
Corrina reflected on the group. Music was magic. But for some reason the wizards didn’t seem to realise that.
Perhaps that wasn’t so bad, or there would be an OWL for that too!
“The next couple of years are going to be hard,” said Scorpius seriously. “I’ll be training; at least, I hope I will be. I should be able to get away some weekends and see you in Hogsmeade, though.”
I belong here, not in Faerie. Here. But I don’t have to choose yet; I don’t have to think about it for at least two years. . . .
“And I am not going to think of it now,” she muttered to herself, as she leaned her head against his shoulder and let the sun warm her pale face.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
This was the most difficult chapter to write by far. How to write a credible love scene without making it over the top or ridiculous really challenged me. In the end, it kept getting shorter and shorter, until it finally reached the present state. I'd love to get some feedback on it - did I hit the mark? Or not?
"The Water is Wide" is an old song, from the 1600’s at least, and it is most likely related to some of the Child ballads. James Taylor, Bob Dylan, and the Cowboy Junkies are just a few of the many modern singers who have recorded versions.
I have been totally remiss in thanking my Beta Reader, Rhi for HP. I need to invent an new word to describe how awesome she is.
Chapter 5 - Malfoy Manor by indigo_mouse
Chapter 5 “ Malfoy Manor
Somewhere there were families spending a joyful Christmas Eve, but the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were not among this lucky number and neither was their guest.
Corrina looked around the elegantly-appointed quarters and shivered. The house had faint echoes of death and blood and pain. Demented laughter lingered softly in the corners where only her ears could hear it. Piteous begging whimpered below the cultivated and mannered discourse that took place in the drawing room. It was as if the house was full of questions answered wrongly, of decisions gone awry.
And yet the Malfoy family seem blissfully oblivious, carrying on their day to day activities with all the overweening pride of a family that feels it is at the top of the social ladder. Not that being at the top of that ladder came by chance. No, calculation and planning had gotten them there. And money. Lots of old money.
Funny, the visit had seemed like such a good idea when Scorpius had asked her last autumn.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It had all started when Zwarthart had dropped a scroll of parchment onto her bed on All Hallows morning. It was from Scorpius, of course; there was no one else who would write her. And even if there were, owls wouldn’t come near Corrina, not even to drop a letter. Zwarthart condescended to transfer letters back and forth between Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts, although how he did so was a mystery.
Corrina read the missive and then hugged her familiar so hard that he squalled at the insult to his dignity.
“He is going to meet me in Hogsmeade!” she exclaimed. “He’s going to be able to make it! And he is going to stay for the feast after; his family is making some sort of donation to the school and he is representing them!”
“And why in the world are you shouting about it so early? Couldn’t you wait until breakfast at least?” Nadine’s sleepy voice grumbled from the next bed.
Corrina laughed as she looked through her robes. She had missed Scorpius’ presence in the common room and his steadfast support ever since he had graduated a year and a half ago. They hadn’t been able to meet nearly as often as they had wanted - his training had taken too much time.
Their day together in Hogsmeade had been blissful. Scorpius had invited her over for Christmas, a holiday she still, after seven years in the mortal world, knew little about.
“I would be honoured to meet your family.”
“And they want to meet you too. I’ve talked about you over the years, you know. They were asking me loads of questions, but after all this time I still don’t know much about where you are from, so I couldn’t really answer.” His own question had been full in his voice, but it was a question she pretended not to hear.
Now, too, she understood why the donation that Scorpius had announced at the Halloween feast had caused such a stir.
“As many of you know, my father was a student under the late and still lamented headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and my grandfather was a school governor during his tenure.
It is with great pride that the family foundation has decided to endow a programme dedicated to his memory, for the purpose of providing tutoring and training for students who have decided to pursue the profession of Auror.
I am here tonight to announce the programme to the school, in advance of our press announcement tomorrow. As an Auror-in-training, I can honestly tell you that I wish this had been in place while I was a student! Thank you.”
But when Scorpius sat down amidst general applause, a hiss of whispers slithered around the room.
“Auror? A MALFOY?”
“Ooooh, clever, that. . . . Gets them in good with all the right people.”
“Lamented? Not from what I heard, let me tell you. . . .”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Malfoy Manor had looked every bit the patrician abode that it was when she arrived. The precisely-manicured grounds with its flock of pampered albino peacocks and graceful fountain were matched by the restrained elegance of the richly-furnished entry hall.
She had been led to the room where she now stood by a house-elf neatly clad in a black damask tea towel. Her robes had been arranged for her in the wardrobe and freshly brushed. And for the first time in this world, she had a servant to help her with her lacings.
A slender girl with raven dark hair and pale eyes looked back at her out of the mirror. Confident in her green brocade and black silk, she surveyed her reflection, preparing to meet Scorpius’s family at last.
As she descended the stairs she was ushered by a rapidly-bowing house-elf to the entry. The family waited to formally greet her, their fair hair and features shown to best advantage by the dark purple velvet of the walls and the richly-shining crystal chandelier.
Scorpius introduced her to his grandparents first. She sank into a respectful curtsey.
“Miss Corax, how lovely to meet you at last. Scorpius has told us so . . . much . . . about you,” said Lucius Malfoy, bowing slightly, his silver hair gleaming in the light. His eyes never left hers. Narcissa’s murmured greeting was even more coldly formal.
“May I present you with a guest cup?” offered Draco as he handed her a slender glass of amber wine. His fine skin was slightly marred by tiny scars, as if it had been sliced by a thousand minute shards. His look was a frank appraisal.
Astoria greeted Corrina with a gentle handshake and a wry smile. As she glanced fondly at her son, her smile deepened, and Corrina could see that for all he bore the Malfoy name, Scorpius was at heart hers, the son of a Greengrass.
Dinner that night was a study in gracious coolness.
As Corrina daintily ate the first course, she noticed a pool of silence expanding. She looked up to see herself at the centre of genteelly horrified regard. She slowly put down her knife and wiped her fingers on her serviette.
“My dear girl,” said Narcissa, her nostrils pinched as if she smelled something, “you really must share with us the name of your governess. I can’t remember when I have seen such manners.”
Corrina was nonplussed.
“Did you drop your fork?” whispered Scorpius.
Only then did she notice the array of gleaming silver beside her plate.
It was spells, not rules of wizard etiquette, which were emphasised at Hogwarts. There, students from disparate backgrounds ate with abandon and gusto and somehow over the years no one had ever taken note of the way she ate, nor had she bothered much with the manners of others.
Now she regretted that she hadn’t paid more attention.
She had eaten in the manner of the Faerie court with her right hand and a knife. There it was considered elegant to use the thumb and forefinger to gracefully transport morsels to the tongue without soiling the lips, but clearly this was not the mode in Malfoy Manor. Her cheeks burned, humiliated.
The snick and clink of fine silver on bone china resumed, as did the restrained, polite conversation. Narcissa’s mouth tightened as she watched Corrina hesitate at the beginning of each course before she imitated the family’s selection of silverware.
After dessert had been cleared away, Narcissa arose gracefully and nodded when the men half rose as politeness dictated. As Astoria stood to join her, Scorpius nudged Corrina.
“Coffee,” he murmured, “in the drawing room. I have to stay here for brandy.”
Things were no less awkward in the other room. A stilted conversation failed to distract Corrina from the ceiling above the polished table at the room’s centre. It seemed as if some memory lingered there, coldness emanating from its slowly spinning form.
Coffee gurgled as Narcissa poured from the silver pot and presented the cup to Corrina, formal and correct and glacial.
“Now, do tell us about yourself,” she commanded.
“And what would you like to know?” Corrina asked, not bothering to disguise her haughty tone. In retrospect, she thought later, it would have been better if she had been meek and acquiescent.
But I don’t think I could have played that role very convincingly.
Narcissa’s expression could have frozen fire.
“Corax is such an unusual name. Certainly not one that I have heard of before. At least not amongst Wizarding families.” She sipped her coffee delicately. “Although perhaps I would recognise your mother’s maiden name?”
She waited.
Yes, it would have been better to have spoken softly and smiled more.
Head held high, looking down her nose at the still-beautiful grandmother of the man she loved, Corrina replied calmly.
“I should think that you would not, madam. My parents were from the north of Scotland, that I know, but little else.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Silence ensued. Corrina did not feel at all compelled to share what little she could remember with so chill and hostile an audience. And even if she had wanted to she could not share her knowledge of the world of Faerie. Strong spells of concealment and mystery bound her, and if she had tried, nothing sensible could have been understood.
I don’t think Narcissa and I are fated to be friends.
“Well,” said Astoria, breaking the rapidly-solidifying silence, “Scorpius tells us you are quite the musician. Perhaps you would favour us with a song later? I see that your harp is here.”
The raven-headed harp stood gleaming in the corner. Corrina met Astoria’s eyes and saw sympathy.
“I would be honoured to play for you. Would you mind very much if I make sure it is in tune?” Any excuse to escape was welcome to her.
By the time the men rejoined them, Narcissa was discussing the upcoming social season with Astoria, pointedly ignoring Corrina as she tuned the harp as slowly as possible.
“Ah, very good, music,” Draco said all too heartily as he took his seat by his wife, squeezing her hand. Scorpius looked upset, and his grandfather, angry.
“Do play for us, Miss Corax,” Narcissa said frigidly.
Eyes half-closed, Corrina swept her fingers across the silver strings. Softly sound built like waves lapping the shore. As she lost herself in the music that told the tale of home and family betrayed for love she felt knots of tension loosening.
This is where I belong, amidst the magic of the music. This is what home feels like.
As the harp strings sung the crescendo and the notes crashed down like waves booming against the gates of a doomed town, Corrina could almost see the halls of the Black King behind her eyes; almost feel like she was where she belonged. It was a feeling she knew she would never otherwise have in this house.
The spell of the music lingered for long moments after the last note died away. Corrina could see the enchantment had an effect on even Narcissa and Lucius. Draco had a look of deep sadness and regret in his eyes and Astoria was smiling tremulously.
“That was lovely,” said Astoria.
“I wonder if you have considered this as a career,” asked Draco. “I have some contacts with the producers of the Weird Sisters. . . .”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Later that week Corrina and Scorpius were alone together on the grounds.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t think they would be like this.”
On the first night of Corrina’s visit Scorpius had found himself at the centre of an inquisition over brandy.
“You know nothing of her family after seven years? How can that be? Where is she from?”
Scorpius squirmed, resenting being made to feel like a truant schoolboy.
“Grandfather, is it really that important in this day and age? You might believe in ‘Toujours pur’ but that’s your generation, not mine.”
“You know I have nothing against Muggle-born; some of my friends are Muggle-born, but. . .” interjected Draco.
Scorpius had given him a look of frank disbelief, and Draco had had the grace to look embarrassed.
“You’re talking about Hermione Weasley at the Ministry? You are calling her a friend? It hardly seems like ‘friendship’ if all you do is support her reforms. And I know that Grandfather doesn’t even do that.”
“You’re too young to understand - you didn’t live through it,” said his grandfather with finality.
“Father, you told me you didn’t care who I married, as long as I was happy.” Scorpius’s pinched nostrils bore a striking resemblance to his grandmother’s. “If you care, then perhaps it’s not too late to get another child?”
“Scorpius!” His grandfather had been horrified by the impropriety. But Scorpius held the trump card: the only son, the only grandson, the only chance to continue the Malfoy line, pure or not.
The rest of the week had been as full of subtle and not-so-subtle slights and insults. Clearly, a musician girlfriend of enigmatic - and therefore most likely questionable - background, no matter how talented, was not what the Malfoy family had envisioned as the proper mate for their precious offspring.
Now, as he walked next to Corrina hand-in-hand, Scorpius felt he had hurt her in a way he had never expected.
“I knew it might be kind of awkward. I had told them about us, years ago. That I love you.” He squeezed her hand tighter in apology. “At the time they thought I might grow out of it. But you know and I know that will never happen. Corrina, they don’t know you yet; you have to give them a chance.”
Angry tears stood in her eyes.
“And if I do, do you think they might like me better once they have known me longer? That I might seem more . . . pure-blooded . . . later? Do you think I might forget the humiliation they have been heaping upon me all week?”
They had reached the edge of the grounds where it merged with the surrounding woods. As they stopped, Corrina turned to face him, her expression full of suppressed rage and hurt.
“Who are they to judge me?”
“They are my family. Don’t think I don’t know what they are like.” Scorpius sighed. “I have heard the rumours about them. I know . . . something . . . happened in the house.”
He stopped to face her and folded both her small hands in his.
“Corrina, I have never asked why . . . but . . . why won’t you tell me about where you are from? Was it so bad that you can’t even talk about it? Don’t you know, after all this time, you can trust me with anything? Please, I need to know. I need to figure out how to make this work. Because I can’t just turn my back on them. It can’t be a choice between them and you. This is where I belong, and I want you to belong here too.”
Could I ever belong here?
Corrina looked at him, fresh tears welling in her eyes, because now she knew where she belonged, which world she belonged to, and it wasn’t his.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
Again, thanks and more to Rhi for HP for beta-reading so well, and yes, I DO need to tame my commas.
Chapter 6 - Leap of Faith by indigo_mouse
Chapter 6 “ Leap of Faith
“It was never that I didn’t trust you. Please believe me - I wanted to tell you.”
She wiped the tears away in a two-handed gesture that spoke to her resolve. Her eyes shone a luminous grey.
“But now you will have to trust me. I have to take you to where I can speak freely, and . . . it won’t be a safe or easy journey. It is not the magic of wizards; it’s a different, older sort.”
She offered her hand to him and, wonderingly, he took it. They walked into the forest together, until they seemed to fade into the distance, as if they had never been there.
Some incalculable time later Scorpius stood in a meadow ringed by tall, silvery trees. He seemed to remember crossing a dark river that ran as warm as blood before pausing before a choice of three roads through a deep forest. It was a faint and confused memory for all that it had just occurred.
What just happened? Scorpius shook his head to try and clear it.
There was a rich green smell to the clearing they stood in. He could see the windows of an indistinct hall shining softly in the distance. A dim lake could be seen beyond it and past the lake twilight deepened into velvet darkness.
“What is this place? Where are we?”
“We are in Faerie. It’s not a legend. It’s not a dream. It’s my home.”
“This can’t be true.”
Corrina was silent.
There was a rustle of grass as Fox emerged from the shadows, Willow on his arm. Scorpius stared at Fox, at the features so reminiscent of his own, at the red hair parting over pointed ears, the smile with a hint of canines showing at the corners.
“So, Raven, you have brought a friend? Be welcome to our fair land, good sir.” Fox swept a courtly bow.
Scorpius collected himself and made a credible bow in return. A sense of unreality had spread over him. Corrina could see the whites of his eyes, and the rapid pulse at his throat.
“Welcome, brother,” said Willow, taking his hands and stooping to kiss first one cheek, then the other.
“Fox, Willow, give us leave. I have much to tell him.”
“No doubt, dear birdling, no doubt.” With a wicked grin, Fox turned and whistled. A pair of fey horses emerged from the trees, their hooves muffled on the loam.
“Do not linger long, Raven. The Hunt starts soon, and it won’t be safe for your silver boy,” bid Willow as she mounted.
“And . . . the woods are not as safe as once they were. I don’t think the Black King will be best pleased if something happened to you,” added Fox.
Corrina nodded, her mouth firmly set, and watched them depart, the horses prancing and cavorting, their riders laughing before they set heels and sped into the twilight towards the hall.
“Why did he call you Raven? That’s not your name.” Scorpius’s mind was reeling from disorientation.
“No, it is not. But names have great power here. To know someone’s true name is to hold their soul in your hand.”
“But I know your name.”
“You know the name I use, but even I don’t know my true name. Here I am Raven, there I am Corrina Corax. They mean about the same thing.”
“Corrina, what are you?”
She looked at the sleek, white-blond hair shining silver in the muted light, the ice blue eyes and pale skin, the lost look on the beloved face.
“I am a changeling. A human child stolen into Faerie long and long ago. I don’t know when I was born. I don’t know who my parents were. I have but a few memories conjured up from the past or scraped up by music into recollection. I can show them to you, if you like. . . .”
She drew out her wand.
“Ostendo Preteritus!”
A little scene unfolded before his eyes: a woman with fair hair, a man with a harp, and children by a peat fire. A peaceful scene. It lingered briefly, and then dispersed, replaced by a confused vision of trees whipping past, distant sounds of voices shouting, metal clashing, screams. A woman’s voice cried as if from a great distance, “Gaun yourssel, run! RUN!” The image flickered, steadied, and then vanished in a burst of azure blue.
Corrina brooded for a moment.
“That is all I have. It seems as if I can almost remember more when Rory plays the bagpipes, but it never quite comes clear . . . .”
Scorpius jumped as he felt something touch his leg. It was Zwarthart. The big black cat yowled at Corrina, ears back.
Corrina lifted her head, listening to a distant noise, like geese calling.
“The Wild Hunt rides. I need to take you to the hall, Willow is right; it isn’t safe for you to linger here if the Hunt is to ride.”
“If it’s not safe for me, what about you?”
“Oh, well.” Corrina seemed uncomfortable. “I ride with them, and they will not harm me.”
Scorpius stared at her. His mind reeled.
I thought I knew her, but who - what - is she? What is someone who can walk between worlds and ride unharmed with the Wild Hunt?
~*~*~*~*~*~
It seemed to be a twilight evening, an evening devoid of black sky or stars. Scorpius looked out at the dim and tangled garden framed in the window of Corrina’s quarters.
“It seems like it’s been twilight for a long time.”
“The sun never rises here, nor the moon. I don’t know why. When I first came to school, that was the hardest thing for me, seeing the blue sky. Here, well, I suppose we are in-between things. Between dark and light, sun and moon.”
Between happiness and sorrow.
“How did you get your Hogwarts letter? And if you were never in London at all, where did you get your wand?”
And why attend a wizard’s school when there is magic such as this all around you?
“I am not the only one who can move between the worlds. House-elves and thestrals do, and humans do, too. Some even remember it, although most think that they were dreaming.
“Master Olivander is one who has been here many times, collecting wood and wand core. He made my wand. The letter, well, Zwarthart brought it one day.
“We have some time, but not over long. Time runs differently here than in the mortal world: sometimes longer, sometimes shorter. I don’t quite have the knack of controlling it.”
They sat in silence and listened as the eerie sound of the Hunt drew closer. A high keening accompanied the belling of monstrous hounds. Wild music of horn and pipe chased the fierce cries and shrieks that receded into the distance. Scorpius shuddered and closed his eyes as silence fell, trying not to think of what happened when the Hunt caught up with its prey.
“I brought you here to tell you something,” Corrina finally said, not quite meeting his eyes. “This is not easy to say.
“I know . . . . I know you want me to belong in your world and be with you. But I can’t.”
“Look, just because my family. . . .”
“It’s not because of your family - or, well, not really about your family. It’s about where I belong. I belong here. I didn’t think I did, I didn’t want to.”
She got to her feet and started pacing the room.
“I was sent to Hogwarts to learn your magic, wizard’s magic. And that was important because there is an enemy here, something in the shadows, something like the Dark Lord in your world. The Black King is already setting up defences, but who knows how long they will hold. And . . . I can’t turn my back on this world. I have to stand with them and fight. With what I have learned at Hogwarts, I can more than just stand and fight, I can make a difference.”
She turned to face him, tears in her eyes.
“I can’t let them down.”
“But why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Scorpius’s hurt resonated in his voice.
“I couldn’t! I couldn’t tell you anything about this when I was your world. You will find when you return that you won’t be able to talk about this world either. It is a powerful magic that protects Faerie from mortals.”
“Corrina. . . I . . . I . . . . Then let me stay here. Let me fight with you; that is what I am learning, that’s why I wanted to be an Auror . . . .”
“No! Oh my love, you don’t belong here, any more than I belong at your grandparents’ table. You would hate me before long if I parted you from your family and kept you here. You would want to go back, to go home.”
“Corrina, please don’t do this.”
Corrina shook her head.
“I have to,” she whispered, and her expression was so forlorn that Scorpius found himself giving her the comfort he needed so badly himself.
~*~*~*~*~*~
CRACK!
The main street of Hogsmeade was deserted when Scorpius Apparated. The heavy rain beat down as it had all spring, pooling on the saturated earth.
“Repello Aqua.”
At least that will keep the rain off, even if it won’t keep my boots dry.
Scorpius looked glumly down at his soaked and muddy footwear. Deep in his pocket was the parchment with her note:
“I will be at the top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight on Midsummer’s Eve.
C.”
He had thought about not meeting her, of keeping the break a clean one. But if he was honest with himself, he knew that he still had hope that somehow they could be together.
Trudging through the mud he wished he could have brought a broom and flown, but the fierce thunderstorms made that impossible.
By the time midnight approached he was dry and warm and comfortably housed in the castle’s guest quarters. Tomorrow he would be representing his family as arrangements were made to endow the Albus Dumbledore Memorial Auror Assistance Programme. But tonight was his own.
He walked through the quiet night halls of the castle, smiling at the nostalgic memories they conjured up. But she was part of every recollection, around every corner, inextricably bound to his time at Hogwarts. Corrina.
He paused in the doorway of the Astronomy Tower and looked out. The rain had stopped, and wind-torn clouds were scudding across the full moon sky. A slight figure stood on the ramparts, waiting. He stepped into the night.
“I couldn’t leave without seeing you one last time. I know I should have left it as it was. I know this is wrong of me, but. . . .”
All the feelings he had been trying to ignore for six months threatened to overwhelm him. The very sight of her made him feel as if something desperately strong was squeezing the life out of his heart.
They stood for an eternity under the stars, arms wrapped around each other, heart to heart. Finally she drew back.
There was nothing for them to say: it had all been said and felt before. In their pain was the knowledge that their love was unshaken. A faint, slight consolation. A small bit of hope to pin a dream to.
She put her hand to his cheek, touched his tears with her fingers, gently.
“I will send you my dreams.”
Balanced on the battlement, she paused one long moment. Scorpius thought of the night they had first kissed, when she had sat and mocked him at this spot. And then, as she had once threatened, she leapt. Scorpius looked after her, straining his eyes to see a single black bird flying against the black sky. He blinked, and the raven vanished.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
Many thanks to Rhi for HP for her invaluable assistance and her grim battle with the zip drive (and study hard, my dear!)
“Gaun yourssel, run! RUN!” is my best attempt at Scottish spelling, with much consultation of Scots Wikipædia. Hopefully the grammar of it is correct, or else not too incorrect.
Chapter 7 - Full Circle by indigo_mouse
Chapter 7 - Full Circle
It’s late. I should be getting home.
Scorpius rubbed his tired eyes. He had been working long and dangerous hours lately. There had been an inexplicable upsurge in the activities of Dark wizards in recent months that kept the newly-expanded Auror Department on its toes. But that wasn’t what was costing him his sleep.
The dreams are getting worse.
At first he had clung to them. A little window into Corrina’s life; a glimpse into Faerie. He had read everything he could find, but there hadn’t been much. Hints existed in ‘Hogwarts, a History’, a few tales by Beedle the Bard, and not much else.
When the luck stone he wore at his throat warmed he knew she was thinking of him and touching the delicate emerald raven he had given her one springtime dawn. It was a bittersweet reminder.
As the years went by he buried himself in work and firewhiskey, working hard and playing even harder. He cut the love-knot out of his hair and threw it away one drunken night. The next morning, he had retrieved the ribbon and put both it and the luck-stone in the bottom drawer of his desk, telling himself he had to move on.
His indifference had acted like a love potion to single women, witch and Muggle alike, but no one touched his broken heart.
We always want what we can’t have . . . .
And through it all the dreams continued. Snippets of her life, glimpses of battlements and battles, of halls where dancers moved with grace and a raven-headed harp played heartbreaking songs.
For the last year the dreams had been getting steadily darker, full of sounds of metal on metal, smells of ozone and fire. The pounding of horse’s hooves and wild laughter filled them. Last night there had been bitter weeping and sadness. A keening loss and the sound of a funereal dirge. Longing and dread.
He didn’t know what was happening in her world, but the when the dreams woke him, there was no return to sleep.
A gentle tapping at the door of his office interrupted his thoughts.
“Come.”
Nadine’s head peeped around the door.
“Oh! Come in!”
She was preceded into the room by a ripe belly, her face glowing with health and happiness. He eyed her size, and with a casual wave of his wand produced a comfortable chair.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He smiled wanly at her.
“Oh,” she beamed. “Well, I was here to remind Grandpapa Weasley to leave off his tinkering and come home to the Burrow. I saw the light on and thought you might appreciate a dinner invitation?”
He shook his head.
“I should be heading to the Manor soon.”
And to all the dark memories that have soaked into the walls. I’m still surprised Father ever let me become an Auror. He must have know that there would be no hiding what he and Grandfather have been and done.
His mouth twisted. His knowledge of their past had put a wall between him and his family, one that was taking on a sad permanence.
“And I just wanted to see how you were. You didn’t look very happy the last time I saw you.” She cocked her head and considered the weary look on his face. “And you don’t look all that happy now, either.”
“I’m not.” It just slipped out, his tired mind unable to stop the truth.
“I still miss her, too.”
Scorpius looked at his neat and orderly desk. The office supplies, organised and tidy. The piles of reports, corners perfectly aligned and square. The luck-stone and the still bright ribbon that he had taken out of his bottom drawer sat at the centre of it all, the only things out of place.
It was a love knot. Love. Not.
“You know, Scorpius, no one knows what happened to her. We expected her to stay with the band after we graduated. After all, she started it; you would think she would want to be part of it now that we are so successful. But she vanished.”
Like a dream. Except they won’t go away.
“You know something, don’t you?”
He didn’t meet her eyes.
“I thought so.”
Nadine considered him shrewdly.
“Scorpius, you have always gotten what you have gone after, whether it was Quidditch Captain, or Head Boy, or persuading your family to allow you to become an Auror, of all things.
“A Malfoy Auror.”
She snorted and shook her head.
“So if you still love her - and I think you do - then I think you should stop looking all woebegone and get off of your sorry, sad wizard’s behind and do something.”
She got up and leaned over the desk, staring him full in the face.
“Now, if I needed some help on a really difficult problem, I would think about talking to Mama Hermione, because I don’t know anyone who has read more books, Muggle or Magical. You just might want to think about that, especially since she is right next door in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
“You deserve to be happy, Scorpius, and I don’t know that you can be happy without her.”
The door clicked shut behind her. Silence grew around him, a palpable thing, and with it a tentative feeling of hope.
He reached out to the luck-stone on his desk and felt it warm as his hand closed about it.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Epilogue:
When did I last see her? It has been a long and hard journey here to the place where all magic begins. . . .
The woman on the throne watched him approach, her expression remote. Her hair was as dark as he remembered, as dark as a raven’s wing, but now it was bound with a moonstone circlet, not tumbling down her back. A large black tomcat sat at her feet, his purring audible, a smile on his cat face.
As his footsteps echoed in the twilight dimness of the empty hall, he thought of the dreams she had sent him. Of the clues that had led him here, that had been strewn by the tales of Andersen and Grimm like breadcrumbs on the forest floor. Of the luck-stone that, like a compass, had helped guide his journey.
He stopped at the foot of the throne, and went down on one knee, drawing his wand out and laying it at her feet.
“I give you my allegiance in all things. I have already given you my heart.”
Her hand reached out to his face, touching the spot where his tears had once lain glimmering in moonlight.
“My love. . . .”
~*~*~*~*~*~
End Notes:
And this, gentle readers, is the end of the tale. But with so many unanswered questions! Do they live happily-ever-after? What happened to the Black King? And who is he?
Perhaps in time we will know more, and perhaps not.
I want to thank my lovely Beta-reader, Rhi for HP, who has helped so much with my stories!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.