Once upon a time, or not really once upon a time, persay; more like sometime a week ago, our story begins.
It was a rather chill night in late September, the kind of night that isn't exactly cold, but the kind that makes you want to do nothing more than wrap in the softest, warmest afghan you can find and sit in a squashy armchair buy the fire, preferably with a large mug of sweet tea or hot cocoa, and dig into a juicy thick novel - maybe a Dumas or a Dickens. The kind of nippy twilight that makes you lazy and crave warm apple pie and cider.
Anyway, it was on this night that three very unlucky individuals were being dragged out of their warm, cozy common rooms and into the snappy night air, by a rather bitter man and his cat.
"Hee hee hee!" the man cackled evilly. "You'll get it good this time, my little friends, won't they, puss?"
"Meow," said the cat affectionately, rubbing up against her master's thigh and starting to purr.
"That's what he said last time we got taken to the forest," whispered one of the boys to the other, keeping it behind his hand so the man wouldn't see it.
The person he was speaking too had gone nearly as white as freshly churned curd. "I hate the forest," he whimpered. "Too many spiders." The third boy, who was standing on the speaker's right, sniggered cruelly.
"Shut up, Malfoy," the first boy snapped, leaning forward to catch the antagonist in the full glare of his sharp jade eyes. "I remember something of you running away from a certain figure in the woods in first year."
The person he was speaking to turned a bright shade of crimson. "Oh, shut up. Perfect Potter and his bravery - I've heard that crock more than enough times, thank you."
"I think the teachers made the Forbidden Forest on purpose and enchanted it just to torture us, Harry," the second boy moaned, brushing red hair out of his sallow features.
"I think that you have a point there, Ron," Harry said solemnly, making Ron crack a slight smile. Malfoy just rolled his eyes in the back of his head, but thought better of saying anything.
They had since walked out of the large building they were in, and the building - which had the appearance of a castle - and were out in the open. The sky was very cloudy and slate-gray, and appeared very low in the sky, as they always do before a storm. However, they always seem much lower and fatter with water when you have to go trooping around a dark, scary, enchanted forest at the dead of night.
"Glad yer 'ere," a burly voice said from behind them. "Then we can start an' get this over with." The voice spoke in a broad peasant's tone, rough but friendly, in a voice that missed ds and hs, and nearly skipped over ws.
The third of the group, Malfoy, could be heard muttering dire things under his breath about the large man who spoke, though they would not look nice in print, and I don't see any specific reason in putting them here.
Of course, the man pretended he didn't hear, but the two other boys did, and after an exchange of cross, grumpy words, they walked towards the dense, thick woods.
"What'd ye do this time?" the large, burly man spoke.
This called the boys to glare at each other again, for the incident had actually involved a bottle of fast-drying superglue and a certain portrait that granted access to common rooms. And this sparked a rebellion among the inhabitants of the area beyond the portrait hole, and this included an episode of ton-tongue toffees, and belch powder during somebody's tea. And of course, three individuals were pegged with the blame (not to say that they were falsely accused of these crimes in the first place) and here they were.
"What are we here for, Hagrid?" asked Ron anxiously, as he was eager to get out of the forest as fast as possible, for fear of gigantic spiders and were wolves. Now, I could go into why he was so afraid of these things, but that's another long story.
"Potion 'ngrediants for yer Professor Snape," Hagrid said huskily.
"It would be Snape, too," Harry muttered dryly, looking at Malfoy sharply.
"Oh, go and boil your head, Potter," Malfoy snapped.
"None 'o that!" Hagrid bellowed looking at the three boys. "Now I know yeh don't like each other, bu' arguin' bout it ain't helpin' nobody nohows."
Harry and Ron mumbled apologies, but Malfoy only snorted and looked the other way. Haughtily, he spat on the forest floor as an owl hooted. "If it'll get this job faster I'd eat my own foot."
Of course, Hagrid (though his vocabulary skills may not have been fine-tuned) had enough sense to know that rivalry was cemented so firmly between these boys that there wasn't much that he could do about it, other than get this job done as fast as possible so he could return to his hut. How I wish I were at home right now with treacle fudge and the kettle on the hob, he thought to himself.
That wasn't the last time he would say that along this journey!
"Righ', then. Le's get down to work, shall we? The fastest way to do this is to divi' the stuff ter get, yeh see? Here-"--he handed each boy a torn sheet of parchment--"-this is a list of everything yeh need teh get. Any questions?"
Harry and Ron, who felt like being agreeable, had none. But of course, always the thorn in the side, Malfoy, had questions. It seemed that if he had to be dragged along on this episode, he was going to go down kicking and screaming.
"I've never even heard of this plant before!" he snarled, pointing to his piece of parchment roughly. "An impossible tree?"
Hagrid sighed deeply and opened his mouth to answer, but Harry cut him off. Eyes ablaze with green fire, he spoke.
"Hagrid, don't bother, he's just making a bigger ass out of himself than he already is." Malfoy raised his eyebrows, as Harry went on. "Look, Malfoy, I don't want to be here any more than you do, but in order to get this done as quick as possible, for once you've actually got to be cooperative. Can you handle that?!"
Malfoy didn't answer, being rendered speechless but preferring not to show it, he marched a few paces ahead of the group, nose in the air.
"As vain as a peacock," Harry muttered, shaking his head and following.
"Yeah, and about as brainless as one too," put in Ron.
Hagrid lightly cuffed them for this remark, but in reality, he was not much more fond of the boy in front of them as Harry and Ron were.
They walked in silence for awhile, looking for their ingredients. Even Malfoy pitched in a little, but of course he had gotten the part of the list that contained roots and he didn't bother shaking the dirt off of them. Harry could feel his blood boil every time Hagrid was hit with a soily root, but Hagrid seemed to be fairly even tempered about it, so Harry tried to be quiet for Hagrid's sake.
"Yeh have to shake the dir' off th' roots, Malfoy," Hagrid was explaining to Malfoy for the thousandth time, when there was a distinct growl in the bushes behind them.
Ron quickly straightened up and looked around, stark terrified. "Wh-wh-what was that?" he half-asked, half-whimpered.
"Dunno," Hagrid said gruffly. "Ever'body behind meh, that includes you, Malfoy."
"You brought your crossbow, didn't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked timidly. Hagrid felt at his waist, and went ashen.
"Blimey, it must have fallen off..." he muttered. Malfoy could be heard snorting.
"Father will be most pleased about this one," he sneered. Harry actually gave Malfoy a rather harsh shove.
"God, Malfoy, must you hide behind your father? And if we happen to get mauled by something, I doubt you'll be able to tell your father anything."
This was a gruesome outlook, and he knew it, but he thought it might get Malfoy to shut up for a change. It worked.
The growls and scuffles of paws came closer and closer. After what seemed like days, but was in reality only a minute, something sprang out.
This something was so terrible that it made even Hagrid flinch. It appeared to be a cross between a werewolf and a sabertooth tiger, and it looked even more ferocious in the moonlight, with a bloody rabbit's leg hanging from it's mouth. Everybody was too scared to move, and the creature obviously knew this, so it was acting lazily unconcerned.
"Oh-oh-oh my G-g-god..." Malfoy said in a very tremulous voice indeed.
"Now don' yeh be gettin all scared on meh," Hagrid said gruffly, although his face was very pale.
The animal dropped the rabbit leg he was gnawing on and looked at the four men in front of him hungrily, its spotted tail swishing to and fro slowly, and muscles on its sides started rippling dangerously.
Now, one might think that the sensible thing to do in this sort of situation is to play dead - or perhaps just stand still and pray to whatever God or Goddess that you believe in, but of course, those sensible thoughts never hit you when you are looking at the razor-sharp fangs of some beastly creature. Your brain simply refuses to function properly, as it does before a particularly difficult Algebra test.
Taking one slow step back, and then another, Ron refused to make any sort of direct eye contact with the beast whatsoever. Limbs shaking like jelly straight from the mold, he kept on backing up, until -
"YARRRGH!"
Ron bolted, and the other two boys needed no second urging. Hagrid yelled after them to stop, but nobody did. The animal licked its chops, and looked about to pounce, but then the oddest thing happened.
Instead of tearing Hagrid into shreds, it looked at him almost fondly, and sat down on its haunches. Hagrid stared at it, and the great cat-like animal winked at him.
A split second later, the animal was no more, but there was something else in its place.
A tall, strong, thick, tree.
# # #
Now we must return to the three boys, who were still running through the woods as fast as their legs would carry them. Now that their senses were returning to them since the great cat scare, they realized that the best thing to do would be for the animal to lose track of their scent. So, they did obvious thing - jumped into the nearest body of water, which happened to be a large, green swamp.
"Wonderful," Malfoy spluttered, heaving himself out of the water, and so covered with sea scum and other things that he actually bore a resemblance to Swamp Thing. "Just bloody wonderful."
"Oh, do shut up," Harry snapped, climbing out of the muck and spitting out a mouthful of yellow-green water.
"Things couldn't be that much worse," Ron heaved, sitting on the banks of the swamp.
How wrong he was!
At that moment, the heavens burst and there was a sudden downpour of icy rain. At first they didn't think this too bad, but soon the rain stopped, and the wind picked up.
"N-n-now wha-wha-what?" chattered Ron.
"S-s-s-urely s-s-s-omeone will-ll be l-l-l-ooking for u-us," Harry reasoned, trying to be optimistic. Malfoy looked as if he were about to come up with a snotty remark, but was too cold to do so.
"We might as well start walking," he said instead, for once sounding quite reasonable. "It'll be warmer th-that way."
They all thought this a good observation and started walking around, hopelessly lost, and hungry, and cold. They all thought about warm fires and warm food and drink until they were nearly sick with despair and had to try and think of something else. But whenever you try and think of something else, you always end up thinking more about the thing you weren't trying to think of in the first place. So the party trooped on, thoroughly miserable.
"I wish I had some hot tea right now," Ron sighed wistfully.
"Oh, shut it, Weasel," Malfoy said weakly. In reality, he was longing for some hot tea as well, and not to mention a feather bed and thick, down comforters, warmed by the fire.
"Does anybody have a wand on them?" Harry asked hopefully. Malfoy rolled his eyes in the back of his head.
"If I had a wand," he said patiently, "don't you think I would have done something with it by now?!"
"Just asking," Harry said, wrapping his cloak tighter about him, although it was probably doing more harm than good.
They trooped on silently for a spell, before Ron spoke up. "Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing up over the trees.
"It looks like... smoke..." Harry said, squinting.
Malfoy nearly leapt three feet in the air. "It is smoke! And smoke means fire!" and with that, he sprinted off, the other two boys in his wake.
# # #
Running towards the smoke was a very challenging thing to do, surprisingly, as the wind picked up now and then and blew the smoke in a different direction, making the column seem like it was in a different place than it was a few moments ago.
But, anyway, soon the threesome came upon a small clearing in the forest. To the right was a small lake, which seemed clear and pristine in the nighttime air, and to the left was a small cottage, complete with thatch roof and a tiny chimney that was steadily puffing clouds of wood-smoke in the air. They stalled a bit, looking at the small house nervously.
"What if it's someone unfriendly?" asked Harry in a voice that was little more than a peep. His stomach growled veraciously, and he seemed to be colder than he was a few moments before.
"What if it's some mad serial killer?" asked Malfoy, seeming very nervous.
They stood there like fools for a moment, before the door to the cottage opened, and a voice flowed out. "My Dears, no need to stand out there! Come on in, it's bitterly cold and wet out there, and you all look like you've weathered the storm."
All thoughts about serial killers and unfriendliness evaporated, and they all clambered into the tiny cottage, and the person shut the door behind them.
It was small, and two-roomed, with one room separated by a curtain. The room that they were in reminded Harry and Ron something of Hagrid's hut - it was anything and everything at once. The walls were painted a nice, mellow shade of yellow, and you could see the inside of the thatch roof and roof beams. There was a sink with a pump on the left side of them, and a table with chairs sat with a yellow-checkered tablecloth and a vase of bright red flowers sat in the middle. The floor was shiny wood, except for before the hearth (which was on the far right side of the room) where there was a soft-looking rug. They gawked about them like they were at the circus, until they turned to look at the woman who owned this house.
In later years, the three would still swear that they had never seen a more magnificent lady. She had long, red hair, but it wasn't as red as Ron's was - more mellow and discreet, like a rich mahogany color, almost, that fell down to her hips. She was clad in a long, brown robe that fitted her form nearly perfect, and brown, almond-shaped eyes fit neatly into a small, heart-shaped face, that was as brown as a perfectly toasted marshmallow.
"But you are dirty," she said, grabbing a strand of Harry's ebony hair and twirling it sadly. She reached over and touched Ron's arm. "And cold." Her eyes took in Malfoy's sopping clothes. "And wet! Oh, my Dears, you really did weather the storm, didn't you?"
Too awestruck by the woman's beauty, the three boys could do nothing but nod speechlessly, until high-society manners took hold of Malfoy's tongue. "Yes, Ma'am," he said softly.
"You don't have to call me 'Ma'am'," the woman said brusquely, "my name is Mabel. Anyway, it looks like baths are in order."
Harry, Malfoy and Ron could do nothing but stare as Mabel did her work. She seemed to be everywhere - pumping water, heating it, and then dumping it into a large tub. In about three minutes, she was done.
"She did that awfully fast," Ron whispered to Harry, who nodded. Mabel shoved the tub into the other room, and came out, not even breaking a sweat.
"How did she move that tub?" asked Harry. Ron shrugged, and Malfoy didn't seem to be listening.
"Now," Mabel said nonchalantly, "who's first?"
Eager to get warm again, Malfoy readily volunteered. Mabel steered him into the other room, and then came back out, shutting the curtain behind her. "Give me your clothes when you're out of them, so I can wash them for you," she ordered.
Malfoy was in a room that was even smaller than the first, but still the same warm yellow color. A small bed was in the corner, and a vanity on the other side. There was another fire started in a fireplace to keep the room warm, and two very thick terrycloth towels sat, neatly folded on the hearth.
A moment later on the other side of the curtain, a slightly damp bundle of clothes hit the ground, and Mabel promptly took them over to the sink and started rinsing them out.
"Erm, thanks for inviting us in and all..." Harry said, once he had found his voice. Voices are very curious things - seeming to disappear when we are awed, or nervous, and need them most. Harry was having a very hard time keeping hold of his voice at the moment, and was becoming rather cross because of it.
"Think nothing of it," Mabel said, folding up Malfoy's now-dry garments and sliding them under the curtain that separated the two rooms.
Soon Malfoy reappeared, looking much better, and not like he had just come out of a driving rainstorm - which, in reality, was quite an adept description of their earlier predicament.
This process was repeated with Harry, and then Ron, and pretty soon everyone was sitting at the table, warm and dry, and eating food that Mabel had cooked up.
The cuisine was very strange in the sense that they had never eaten it before - but it was very good. There were apples that were wrapped in some kind of meat - the juice from the apples saturated into the meat, which looked quite odd but were actually very tasty. There were slices of fresh fish from the pond that was in front of the house, which was smothered in some sort of cherry sauce and lain on top a bed of white rice, and some kind of lumpy vegetable that was covered in brown sauce that totally disguised the taste of the vegetable itself but tasted marvelous. There was more than enough for everybody, and at the end they barely had enough room (yet, they miraculously made it) to eat the pie that was made of all sorts of fruits, and heavily sugared.
After all of this, Harry could compare his feeling to that of a boa constrictor that has just eaten something very large whole and could just lie around and digest for a month or two.
But Mabel had other ideas. She was bustling around the kitchen again - putting dishes in the sink, and filling it up with water. Three minutes later, the mounds of dishes were spotlessly clean and dry.
"How does she do that?" Ron whispered to Harry. Harry shrugged.
"She doesn't seem to be using a wand... something's not right here."
"Let's go sit by the fire," Mabel invited, not hearing or ignoring Harry and Ron's hushed whispers. A moment later, they were all sitting on the rug before the hearth, wrapped snugly in quilts and drinking hot, lemony tea. And the strange thing about it was that none of the three boys ever remembered doing it! The moments between when Mabel invited them by the fire to the point where they were sitting in blankets sipping tea were lost to them.
Now, normally this would set off warning signs in their heads and cause them to want to bolt out of the house. They weren't as daft as that. But it was so cozy and snug inside the warm little house, and outside it had begun to sleet. Besides the fact, being overstuffed and extraordinarily content seems to make you disconcerted about anything and everything there is.
"If you wouldn't mind now," Mabel said kindly, "after I've fed you and all... if you wouldn't mind telling me your names?"
All three boys blushed an ungodly shade of red upon hearing this.
"Ron Weasley," Ron whispered, trying to cover his flaming face with his bright red hair.
"Harry Potter," Harry said, trying to do the same - only with his black locks.
"Draco Malfoy." Malfoy knew that it was rather pointless to try and shield his face with his hair - it was too white.
"Mmm," Mabel said, sipping her tea. There was silence for a moment, as all four of them listened to the sleet slap up against the house, and the wind howl.
"I'm afraid I don't have anything interesting for you to spend your time on," Mabel went on, setting her mug down. "I normally don't have visitors."
All three boys mumbled that they didn't care much - they were warm and dry, and that's all that really mattered, Ron pointed out.
Mabel shook her head and refilled everybody's cup with the sweet tea. "Mayhap you'd like to hear a tale?"
The eyebrow telegraph whistled its way through Ron, Harry, and Malfoy. I'm sure you've used the eyebrow telegraph many a time - like when you first meet your art teacher (or, if you are a wizard, your Divination teacher) and she turns out to be a little stranger than you expected, the eyebrow telegraph comes into play.
"Umm, sure," Ron said, as not to appear rude.
"This is a tale about the Forbidden Forest," Mabel went on, hugging her knees to her chest. "Not many know of this tale, and its importance."
Mabel cleared her throat, and looked out at the battering weather. She opened her mouth and began to tell her story.
(Now, I will try and tell you the tale without too many interruptions from Ron, Harry, or Malfoy -, as it would only confuse you helplessly if I included these trivial things.)
# # #
A long, long time ago, before Hogwarts, and London (muggle or wizarded) before even the continent of England was here, there was a land. And that land was called Irisgrove country.
("Why 'Irisgrove'?" asked Ron. Mabel explained that the land was named after the king's (or queen's) name, which at the time was High Queen Iris.)
Now, in Irisgrove, there was no magical barrier, meaning that anybody could use magic at any time they wanted to, without the use of a wand. One simply could just pull it out of the air. The days were always long, warm and sunny, the harvest plentiful, and everybody was happy. The Dryads and Nymphs frolicked free in the mountains and in the meadowlands, and Fauns and Centaurs looked at each other in peace.
And so it went. Years came and went, and everything stayed the same. The family names and fortunes stayed with the heirs, the sun rose and sank, and everything was peaceful.
Until one day, a rather large ship had been seen floating up the banks of the river that snaked through Irisgrove. Of course, the water nymphs were the first to know, so they bubbled it to the cattails, who rattled it to South Wind, who rustled it to her brother the North Wind, who howled it in the ear of High Queen Iris's very youngest sister - Hyacinth. Now, Hyacinth was much frightened by the news, and bawled it out to her slightly older brother Basil, who thought it best to entrust the news to his favorite sibling, Rose.
"Oh, bother!" Rose said upon hearing the news. "Can not thee find something else to occupy thy time than to bother thy kindred?"
Nevertheless, Rose obliged her younger brother, and trudged up the stairs to see her sister, High Queen Iris. "Queenly sister," she said, bobbing a curtsy, as was proper in those days, "thy royal brother fears something may have gone amiss."
High Queen Iris turned around. She really was quite a magnificent creature - long, silvery hair that fell in cascades down to her feet, and eyes so blue they were almost purple loomed wisely out for the world to see. Her tiny, peaked chin curved up into a thin, but stubborn mouth. One could look at her and see that she had royal heritage. She adjusted the gold circlet around her head and gave a great, queenly sigh.
"Thy news scares myself, as I have felt the dense evil in the air - can thy not sense it?"
There was acute silence in the air as both Rose and Iris digested this, before another dignified man came strolling in.
"Madams," said he, "has thee had enlightening in thy tale about the mysterious ship?"
Queen Rose nodded respectfully. "So it is with us, Fair Thyme."
"I question thee," High Queen Iris said to her brother, "could not thy fair kindred be mistaketh?"
King Thyme's eyes nearly burst out of his head with anger. "Mock me not!" he thundered. "Thou must surely sense foreboding in thy heart! Wherefore by my counsel we shall not send less than three legions to march!"
Queen Rose looked shocked. "Beloved Thyme!" she said, "Irisgrove is a land of peace and prosperity! I beseech the fair High Queen to alight from such drastic measures!"
High Queen Iris looked very tired indeed. "Hear, hear! Therein I pray to be excused from thy petty quarrels. Sir," she said, turning her deep blue eyes on her brother, "ye art nobly concerned about thy fair Irisgrove. The maiden Rose speaks truthful - peace is the rightful concern. Ye shall meet the strangers when the clock strikes true at the morn of tomorrow with a score of my legions... no more, no less. The High Queen speaketh!"
"So mote it be," the other King and Queen muttered, bowing respectfully and taking their leave.
# # #
Oh, if only the peaceful creatures of Irisgrove knew what was coming at them! For in that great ship (which was christened The Briny) one of the most feared battalions resided.
Far below in the great ship, the grunting of the oarslaves could be heard propelling the great ship along, as well as the flail of the whip, and an occasional scream.
"Up 'an one 'an down 'an two,
Bend yer backs and curse yer birth!
Up 'an one 'an down 'an two,
Pull them oars fer all yer worth!"
The oarslaves did as they were told, pushing and pulling the heavy oars as fast and as madly as they could, which was never fast enough. The slavemaster - named Redeye - cracked his whip and went on with his recital.
"Up 'an one 'an down 'an two,
Some have backs without no hide.
Up 'an one 'an down 'an two,
Those who couldn't row have died.
Up 'an one 'an down 'an two,
Here's a gift from me to you!"
The whip flailed, and one of the slaves screamed in pain. There was a harsh call from up above.
"Arr, Redeyes, pull'em oars in!"
"Right'em, Cap'n. Right, sea scum, ye heard the Cap'n."
Weary with exhaustion, the oarslaves locked the paddles under their benches and collapsed on them. Redeyes came around with a bucket full of watery cornmeal, and one of his comrades - an evil faced man named Coppertooth - and dealt out the food and water.
As the slaves hurriedly shoveled the food in their mouths, the two men walked on deck and looked about.
Never in their entire, flea-bitten lives had they seen a land as lovely or green as Irisgrove. The gardens were neatly kept, and the fields were sodden and rich. Coppertooth shuddered.
"Don' like it, matey," he whispered to Redeyes. "All this green'un makin me landlockered."
Redeyes shook his head in agreement. "Aye. Give me a liddle o' the wader anyday." But they went to their captain's chambers anyway.
There was no need to disturb the 'Cap'n', however, because he had come out on deck. And a fearsome sight he was!
Many say that people have twisted stories together, and have come out with this fierce seacaptian as the one known as 'Blackbeard'. At any rate, he had a long, bushy, terrible black beard that was always tangled with food, and spit from his yelling. He never bothered to wash it, for he believed that it gave him a more fearsome appearance. His clothes were vast and expensive, and his shoes were polished and shiny, with golden buckles. His face was scarred and horrible looking, his lips turned down into an eternal haughty sneer. Fourteen earrings donned on his left ear and twenty on his right. On his breast numerous medals and medallions jingled - but none of them were rightfully his, as he had filched them from the bodies of those who he slaughtered. A thousand pigtails stood out from his head, wild as anything.
No honest people in Irisgrove had ever seen or heard the likes of Captain Chaos.
"Avast," he said, "look yer purty eyes o' that one." He pointed towards the white castle, where High Queen Iris and her siblings resided. The sun was sinking, dowsing the walls of the palace in color.
"'ll we be portin'?" asked Redeyes, after he had seen enough of the castle.
Chaos shook his head. "Nay, me good matey. We'um port on t' morrow." When he said 't, a cascade of spit leaked through his cracked and bleeding lips, to dribble onto his beard. His features became even more stiff and craggy than they already were as he stared at the castle. Redeyes and Coppertooth had decided that they had better take their leave.
"Did yeh see the look on 'is face?" Coppertooth whispered.
Redeyes nodded. "that'uns a mad 'un, e' is."
# # #
Next morning there was a royal procession down to where the great ship was moored. "Sit still, Tigs!" Rose ordered her little sister - who was named Tiger Lily, but everyone called her 'Tigs'- for she was bouncing around excitedly.
"Doth not excited about the 'hip?" asked Tigs, smiling. High Queen Iris turned around and smiled wanly at her little sister.
The Briny loomed before them like a gigantic wooden beast, which it was. The air around it smelt strongly of seasalt and mud, and the entire thing smelled like rot. Hyacinth wrinkled her nose.
"'mell!" she complained, holding her nose, which had grown accustomed to the sweet scent of wildflowers and warm grass.
"Hush, Hya!" her brother Thyme ordered, while he stood at attention like a soldier. High Queen Iris sighed, as a wooden plank descended from the bow of the ship, and Chaos stepped off.
"I don't like the looks of this, your Majesty," a Dryad spoke in Iris's ear, swishing in the breeze.
"Quiet, Willow," High Queen Iris ordered. The Dryad obeyed, slinking up to the bank and changing into a willow tree to get a better view of it all.
"Arr," Captain Chaos said a bit too friendly. "I be Cap'n Chaos, o' t' find ship Briny."
"As we can see," the High Queen said dryly. "We offer thy comrades and yourself food and lodgings for your stay here in Irisgrove."
"Irisgrov', eh? A fine name fer a fine place. Idn't that right, me buckoes?"
The thirty or so people abord The Briny nodded and grunted their agreement. "We'd on'y be too happeh teh drop oar 'ere."
"Let thine people show you the way to the inn," Iris said softly, but alertly.
Chaos saluted smartly. "Aye-aye, Missy. Er - yeh highness."
# # #
"Fair Consorts!" Thyme said when they were back in the castle, "for it will not go out of my mind that Chaos is up to malevolent trickeries!"
"Sir," another sibling, Bay said, "it is so with me."
"Dear brothers," Rose said sadly, "thou art not battalions!"
High Queen Iris nodded. "Irisgrove has not had need to protect itself in centuries of my father's time. Pray it is still so."
Everybody nodded dutifully, and left to go about their own businesses.
# # #
Bludhart - another one of Redeyes mates - tucked away another tankard of ale, dregs and all.
"This be t' life, eh, matys?" he roared. "Have anuder drink, ere, Cap'n!" he went on, sloshing his ale around in his tankard.
"Fool!" Chaos roared, knocking Bludhart over the back of the head with his sword scabbard. Bludhart fell to the ground. The rest of the seamen went silent; knowing that Chaos was prone to moodswings.
"Did yeh see the gol' that gel, er, wotshername - Iris? Did'ja see what she was wearin?" the captain whispered. "That'll 'll be aurs, matys! Listen up."
The rest of the talk commenced in whispers for the rest of the night.
# # #
Hyacinth ran through the halls of the castle, trying to keep up with a Dryad - Elm - as she rushed past.
"I pray, wa' for me!" Hya bawled, trying to keep up, but her dresses slowed her down considerably, and Elm (or any other Dryad, for that matter) hardly wore any clothing at all.
Elm burst through the door of the Great Room, sobbing, and she threw herself at High Queen Iris's tiny, pointed feet.
"Elm!" the High Queen said, too surprised to say anything else.
"Your majesty, your majesty," the tree-spirit bawled, "that Captain Chaos and his awful crew have... have..."
Thyme was on his feet at once. "Fair Elm," he said urgently, "pray tell what they have done!"
"They've barricaded the country in!" Elm sobbed. Thyme turned very white and ran over to the window.
Now, you must remember that Irisgrove, though considered an entire kingdom at one time, was really little more than a dowry. When Thyme peered out the window, he saw the entire valley covered in a huge dome of assorted colors.
"What do we do?" asked Rose, beginning to cry as well as Elm.
"Tears will not assist!" Iris said faintly. "Shall we send the troops, fair brother?" she inquired of Thyme.
"The armies are not sufficiently trained," Thyme said shortly. "It would be a mass murder, sister." Elm stared screaming.
"They're burning! They're burning!" she hysterically screamed.
Iris ran to the window besides her brother. Indeed, the insides of the bubble were burning, and there were sounds of terror coming from the inside. Hyacinth, who was standing next to Iris, looked out the window.
"Colors!" she said. Iris looked at her strangely, before looking out of the window again.
Have you ever blown a soap bubble, and looked through it? Everything on the other side of the bubbly film is all pink, and blue, and purple, and upside down. That's what was happening outside the window.
"We are being barricaded in too," Bay, who had come in the window, said calmly, although he was as pale as the moon.
The door opened, and in strode Chaos, who was eating a sugared plum with one hand, and carrying Tiger Lily like a sack of potatoes in the other. He gave a smile, and the sugary juice squelched out from between his teeth, and dribbled down his front. Tiger Lily was weeping silently, not wanting to agitate her captor.
"You vile being!" Thyme yelled, temper getting the better of him, as usual. Chaos just stood there, while Thyme gathered globes of white magic in his hands.
"Ye shoot dat, I'll make shurt werk o' yer flower gel here, or summat," Chaos said mildly. Rose ran up and smacked Thyme's hand down, making the magic disappear. "Serry to betray yer trust, yer majesty," he said in a mocking voice, while bowing deeply.
"Nay, I see a reason for thou to attack thy fair Irisgrove," the High Queen said, firmly but sadly. Captain Chaos shrugged.
"It'n be what I be, marm. Now, do'un we be havin' your surrender?"
Iris's face had gone from a stark white to a grim determination shade of green almost. "You shalt have no surrender of mine." She walked calmly over to a picture of one of her ancestors, and tore it off the wall. On the wall was a safe. Opening the safe produced a rather large, black velvet pouch. Iris reached inside the pouch.
Inside there was a crystal - a seemingly normal, nearly worthless seer's crystal, with the exception that there was something inside of it.
A dense forest was in the center, with a dark brown of fertile soil, and the thick green foliage for sky. Iris cleared her throat and spoke.
"All is as it was, and was as it is,
Time's crystal, take me back,
World, be renewed."
The crystal fell to the ground with a 'clink', and the ground started to rumble. The castle melted away, and a roaring filled the air. All magic fell from the domes, and the houses melted into the ground. The sky filled with dark clouds, and there was a cloudburst, and water poured over all, dowsing the fires. The Dryads stopped running about, and their bodies arched in graceful positions as they turned into trees, and rooted into the ground. The nymphs gave one last, sad look at the world and dissolved into the water. The people disappeared, and venomous snakes and werewolves stood where pirates did before. Unicorns and Fauns stood where the good townsfolk did.
Chaos and the royal family were the last to go. "Arr!" Chaos called, as white magic collected upon his body like dust. "Yeh haven' seen t' las' o' Cap'n Chaos!" And with that, he exploded.
It wasn't a bloody explosion, but a magical one. There was a sound like a timebomb going off, and then black clouds appeared, and they whistled off around the world, to plague mankind for the rest of time.
The weeping Tiger Lily and Hyacinth grew smaller and smaller until they were nothing but little specks. Then, two magnificent flowers - one in the sunny orange and brown speckles (like Tiger Lily's hair and brown freckles), and the other in a billowy skirt of purple, like Hyacinth's favorite dress - sprang out of the earth.
In Rose, there was an entire bush full of graceful, slender red flowers, with pricks to defend themselves and the other 'roses' as they were known to be called.
Bay, Basil and Thyme all found themselves as green plants - not beautiful, but strong, and healthy, and adding spice to life.
The trees grew and strengthened, overtaking the sky with shades of lush green and browns. The rain became less of a downpour, and more of a softly pattering wetness - like the heavens were weeping over the last of Irisgrove. The animals ran away into the dense trees for cover.
Iris was the last. As was the way Time's crystal works - it has no effect on the being that uses it. She picked up the crystal and looked around what used to be Irisgrove. Her kingdom. Now, it was a forbidden forest, where none should go.
"Alas, fair Irisgrove," she whispered.
She dropped to her hands and knees and dug her fingers into the soil, letting her sopping hair fall down into lank strands.
"None shall awaken from the forest's sleep,
Until the forest awakes."
With that, Iris, the last High Queen of Irisgrove, shut her eyes. A few moments later, the first iris flower unfurled its petals to the world.
# # #
The tea was long gone, now, and they were all sitting down on small down mattresses - that they didn't know how they got there - and yawning.
"Nice story," Ron said sleepily.
"Mmmm," Harry agreed. Malfoy looked up.
"How did you know that story?" he asked in an accusing voice. "I'd never heard it in any folklore before."
Mabel winked at him, and he fell back against the mattress, asleep.
# # #
"Yer here!" a voice shouted in their ear. "I wos lookin' an' lookin'..."
Harry, Ron, and Malfoy groggily sat up. They had been sleeping in a pile before a great maple tree. Amazingly the ground was not wet where they lay, and they were perfectly dry in their clothes.
"Neerg," Malfoy complained when Hagrid caught them all in a - quite frankly - bone-crushing embrace.
"Now we havta get back ter Hogwarts," Hagrid was saying, "we'd had the entire school lookin', and yer here, and..."
"Where's Mabel?" asked Ron confusedly.
"Huh?" asked Harry. "I thought that that was a dream!"
Malfoy massaged the top of his head, and didn't say anything as Hagrid hauled everybody to their feet and started marching them off through the trees, talking all the way.
Ron scowled and looked at the ground. "Mabel?" he whispered out loud. He looked behind them at the tree they had been sleeping under. A singular branch flapped, even though there was no wind. It seemed to be waving good-bye. "Maple?"
"Mabel Maple?" Harry asked.
"Dryads..." Malfoy said, looking at Harry and Ron. All of them felt quite odd. But, they walked on.
# # #
The wind whistled through the branches of the great maple they had left behind. If one listened really closely, really really closely, it seemed to be speaking, in a willowy, spindly sort of voice.
"All is as it was, and was as it is... and shall be again."
The other trees rustled in agreement, even though there was no breeze....
Not so far away, a singular iris greeted the morning sun by opening its petals.
The End
A/N: Well, that was a little odd, but what can you expect from an idea converted during a bored stupor and a sugar high? I have no idea if I got my 'Thees' and 'thous' and 'thys' right, but, eh, oh well. Please review nicely!
~Moxie ^_^
Disclaimer: Everything mentioned in the Harry Potter books belongs to the fabulous J.K. Oh, and the slave chant that Redeyes was saying belongs to Brian Jacques... Brownie points for those of you that noticed that!
