If ever the word witch had fired the imagination of men, she would have been the model.
She sat on the grass of a small courtyard and all around, gigantic white lilies outgrew her at amazing speed. Their flawless shining white bloom matched her porcelaine skin. Her robe was of the deepest most formal magical burgundy and only her hair could beat this colour at the materialisation of darkness: Long and inky it fell like a black curtain around her delicately chiseled features.
It was early dawn but she allowed herself not even the suggestion of fatigue.
Unlike her two small boys, they sat at her feet and yawned openly.
It was early for them but she knew that discipline was the sine qua non for good wizards. And she expected her sons to be outstanding, as remarkable as most of their ancestors had been.
They surely had the talent, she had them tested as soon as she knew tat she had conceived.
The older one had more power but could not control his violent temper as good as the younger already did.
She studied their upwardly held little faces which were full of admiration for her. Their innocenct eyes reminded her again how vulnerable they were, and she knew that she had to prepare them for a world with no place for naivité.
" I want to tell you a story.", she said.
"And I expect you to listen closely."
It said a lot about her education that no boy made a movement but a single, serious nod.
She drew breath and began. While she spoke, she filled the air around them with magic, making her words deeper and darker, burning them into their young minds.
" One of our earliest ancestors was a wise druid, John, clairnant to the throne of Aquitaine and England. He spend his whole life working against the christianisation of our land as already in these days the stupid crucifix-wearers were trying to destroy nature and those who followed it´s eternal laws.
They even allowed muggles to act as if they could feel spiritual things beside their grey curlish little lifes! They got high-spirited of cause and while John was trying to clean Sherwood Forest for the hatching unicorns, the muggles came to the funny idea that magic,- if they could detect it-, was something evil.
Of course, they had not masterminded this thought on their own, ignorant peasants, it had been Johns´ jealous brother who wanted the throne for himself.
His name was Richard Lionheart and when John found out, he challenged and defeated Richard in a spectacular wizard´s duel. He then forced Richard and his followers to emigrate to the Jerusalem wizarding community as he was a peaceful man. He should have better killed him!
Richard still had some followers and as the years passed, they worked in secrecy and intrigued against John. They created the first wizengamot as a committee for magical behaviour.
With this weapon, they accused John, to have used dark magic against Richard what he certainly had done. It was just that till then, there had not been a definition of dark or white magic, it had been a question of your intentions if something was good or bad.
They banned John and they took Sherwood away from him and from this day on the descendants of Richard, the Gryffindor line, are our enemies.
It was one of their most prominent sons, Godric, who killed our predecessor Isabella and her two young daughters together with his muggle friends. Under his narrow-minded rule, the muggles grew more and more confident and nowadays we can not influence them any more. We have to live hidden and still we will not be sure till they know their places again one day. The only language they understand is a merciless fight and if we don´t win we will die."
She stopped.
Two pairs of grey eyes were opened wide in fear and passion.
She asked:
" What is it that we learn from this story?"
The older one was faster, as always. He blurted out:
" Gryffindors are bad and they want to kill us together with the muggles!"
She nodded and added:
" These wizards are the worst of all and we call them blood-traitors because they intermingle with the dangerous muggles. They should know , that they should better stay with their magical brothers as - yes dear, do you want to say something, too?"
The younger brother had thought a while before he spoke, as usual. She appreciated it.
" Because magic is the most important thing in the world," he said concentrated," and there is no good curse or bad curse. Whatever you manage is right, because you can do it?"
He looked at her for approval and was rewarded with a rare kiss on the forehead.
Both boys grinned proudly now as they had given good answers.
She smiled inwardly because she had brought up such clever children. She loved them so much.
But her face did not show it.
" You may stay an hour longer on the Quidditch pitch as a reward. And don´t you ever forget the terrible danger that muggles are."
The boys nodded eagerly and turned around. In their anticipation they did not see the supple movement that she performed with her wand against the oldest house elf that had waited in the hedge.
She transformed it into a gigantic blonde and fat woman with brown teeth and a mad grin. The house elf knew it´s role and had agreed to play it months ago. With a slimy croak it approached towards her, arms outstretched and roared:
"I will gorge you and bunk out your eyes, worthless witch!"
She screamed, possibly for the second or third time in her life, and let herself fall to the ground. From the corner of her eyes, she watched her sons.
They did not hesitate a second. The older one jumped up to the "Muggle" and clung to its big neck while kicking it and screamed like a small banshee.
The younger one sheltered his seemingly helpless mother with outspread arms and supported his brother, shouting encouragement.
The house elf did as arranged and shook them off. It laughed roaringly at them:
"You want to be wizards ," it shouted," You can´t even curse me!"
They both held up their wands immedeately.
" Do it!" , she shrilled when she saw them hesitating," kill it!"
" Crucio!" piped her older son,
" Avada Kedavra!" tried the younger boy.
Nothing happened.
" You have to mean it! I told you a million times!" she shouted dissapointed.
With long practiced pliancy, she rolled over the grass, grabbed her wand and shot a stream of yellow light towards the creature while she was still lying on the ground.
" DECAPITES! " she shouted and the creature was beheaded in a spectacular and messy way. It´s head sailed across the grass and dragged a stream of blood behind it that splattered everything, including her paralysed sons.
She stood up and wiped her face clean. No matter what or whom, she knew that she would always be the only and most beautiful woman in the world for her sons.
" I think, you have to practice curses more often," she said saddened to them," please go now, I have to throw this ugly muggle in the dustbin." She already saw the signs of a re- transfiguration on the stinking thing.
They left with red eyes.
As soon as they were gone, the house elfes appeared and carried their oldest and admired member away. It had died in service as it had wished. They would prepare him for his last award.
One stayed behind to clean away the blood.
"Unworthy house elf hopes that his head will decorate the banister one happy day, too!" this young creature before her whispered eagerly.
She looked at the bowing half-bred in it´s old rugs and answered calmly:
" If you will serve me as devoted as your predecessor I promise you Kreacher, that your wish shall be granted as long as it´s in my might, living or dead."
AN : Isn´t it great, how Sirius managed to become the good and strong person he is with such an upbringing? No one ever appreciates this, what do you think!
I am sorry for mistakes + hope that you will forgive me as I am not a native speaker.
Greetings and tell me your opinion, don´t be shy,
The Swanhild