...Not gonna lie, folks—this is not how I expected my fourth anniversary would be. But this explanation is long overdue.
For those who don't know the story: On October 26th, I woke up to find all three of my Harry Potter/How To Train Your Dragon stories had been removed from the website. I was given no prior warning of this, and from what I garnered from my discussion with Optimus524 (whose stories were also removed), he wasn't given any either.
To be honest, I wasn't really happy on this website anymore. I can't explain why, it just...no longer felt like my mental home. The only reason I planned to stay was because of you guys, and this series. I was even starting to get past the inner (and outer) barriers that had been making it hard to get chapter 15 of Book Three...And like that, all I had worked on was gone.
Most people probably would've quit, and with good reason, too. That would be the sane, logical path. But I am neither sane nor logical. Over a year of my life had been spent on this series. It had shaped my style, my friendships, and even my life. I was in too deep to go down without a fight.
So on October 30th, only 4 days after the removal, I uploaded chapter 1 of Book One to ArchiveOfOurOwn, officially making the move I had been delaying for months.
I now have an editor, a schedule (every Monday, so that I have something to look forward to on Mondays), and an ability to communicate with my non-member readers. I've never been happier.
But FanFiction is where I got my start, and as my fourth anniversary drew near, it occurred to me that I ought to do an official send off, and alert more of the old readers what happened and where I am now.
So here we go. A little treat for you guys; the original chapter introducing Raghilda.
(Remember when I said I wasn't happy with the original draft? This is what I was talking about. I had kind of hoped this version would never see the light of day, but you guys deserve something special)
Disclaimer: I do not own the setting or characters (other than Raghilda). I do, however, own the plot of this particular chapter. Enjoy.
Almost an hour or so later, the three friends still couldn't believe it.
Soon after the bombshell, the small girl had been whisked away into the Infirmary. Phlegma had told them to wait outside while she went to alert Alvis.
Ragnar glared at the Infirmary door. "It can't be true," he told himself sternly, "It just can't be. Someone found out that my twin had the mark of the Norns on her chest and painted it on that girl. Bergljot'll just scrub it off, and this will all be over."
He wanted to believe it, he really did, but something within him refused to follow the line of logic.
Bergljot the Helpful peered out at them. "You can see her now."
She opened the door a sliver wider. Ragnar stood on somewhat shaky legs and stumbled inside. Hiccup and Astrid were right behind him.
The girl was asleep. She had curled into the fetal position facing the opposite wall, and Ragnar could hear her soft, slow breathes.
"I daresay she'll wake up any minute now," Bergljot whispered. "But don't raise your voices when you speak to her, alright? The poor lass sustained a nasty blow to the head; she most certainly won't like any shouting."
The three nodded in unison. They sat down on the bed next to the girl, watching silently.
For a long time, nothing of interest happened. The girl slept on, unbothered by their presence.
Ragnar rubbed his temples. It had been a very strange week. He had gone from not knowing he even had a sibling, to finding out that his twin sister had been murdered by their father, who had also betrayed Hiccup's parents. That news in and of itself had been hard enough to deal with.
But now here she was, alive and only a short distance away from him.
"No!" his logic scolded him; "It's not true! She's an imposter! She has to be! Come on girl, wake up! Let them see you for the imposter that you really are!"
As though prompted by his thoughts, the girl finally moved. Ragnar waited with baited breath, but the girl merely rolled over in her sleep, murmuring a string of incoherent words. Her expression was vaguely troubled.
The Infirmary door opened, and Alvis the Noble strode in. Behind him was Phlegma the Fierce, Gobber, and—with difficulty, Ragnar withheld a groan— Gothi the Elder.
"This is her, Phlegma?" Alvis asked.
Phlegma nodded. "Hiccup and Astrid found her when they returned to the Gryffindor common room, unconscious. The mark is there, sir; right above her heart."
"It can't be," Gobber said loudly. "Raghilda Skuld Harkstow died over twelve years ago, and I ain't disgracing her memory by listening to this damn imposter."
It was nice to know Gobber was on Ragnar's side about all of this.
Phlegma stepped forward, pulling aside the fabric of the girl's shirt again. Unless Ragnar's eyes were deceiving him, the blue marking appeared to be brighter than before.
Gothi looked closer and smiled faintly. "Ah, Gobber, look closer. That mark right there is exactly the same as it was the day Raghilda was born. No mortal hand could recreate the mark of the Norns so perfectly."
The old woman reached out and gently traced the inner circle. The girl's murmuring grew louder, her face twisting like she was in pain.
Hiccup lurched forward, as though he wanted to help. "Gothi, what's going—"
"Shh!" Gothi hissed. "Watch her."
The murmuring (well, yelling now) reached its climax. Ragnar could've sworn he heard his name slip past her lips.
The girl gasped, and her molten gold eyes snapped open.
Gothi smiled down at her. "Good evening, young seer. My, how long it's been since we last met."
The girl stared warily at the old woman (Truthfully, Ragnar couldn't blame her). She didn't seem ready to talk just yet, so Gothi kept going.
"Your aura is weary still. So many years of unspeakable hardship will often have that effect, especially on the innocent young."
Surprised, Ragnar tried to sense the girl's aura. Sure enough, it did seem oddly distressed, as though it had been constantly on edge for years. More than that, it felt familiar, almost like his own.
Gobber stomped forward, pushing Gothi aside. "Who are you?!" he roared in the girl's face.
Even Astrid flinched away from the rage in his voice.
"Gobber, this is uncalled for!" Phlegma the Fierce squeaked. "You'll terrify the poor child!"
But the girl stared up at the giant, completely undaunted. She still didn't speak.
"Not talking, eh? 'Fraid you'll be discovered as an imposter?" Gobber growled. "How dare you, pretending to be poor little Hild—"
"I saw you in Azkaban," the girl said at last. Gobber froze mid word. "I stood at the bars of the cell I called home for so many years, watching as you were brought in. You were pale, and you shook like a leaf, but you screamed the vilest curses I'd ever heard until dawn. The guards had never been in such a nasty mood."
Her voice was quiet, but she might as well have been screaming.
Gobber gaped at her, looking remarkably like a fish. "How-how did you…"
The girl smiled softly. "Of course, I'd been told you were always the most foulmouthed of the group, but sweet Valhalla, you outdid yourself that night. I actually laughed, it was so—oh, goodness, you're a little too close."
Gobber's face was a breath away from the girls'.
"R-Raghilda," He croaked.
"Yes, Uncle Gobber—woah!"
She yelped in surprise as Gobber hauled her off of the bed and swung her around the Infirmary in a bone-crushing hug, laughing at the top of his lungs.
"Uncle Gobber, I'm getting dizzy!" she exclaimed.
"You're alive! You're alive!" Gobber sang.
Alvis smiled. "Put her down, Gobber."
Gobber did, albeit reluctantly. Coughing, the girl sat back on the bed, and gave Alvis an expectant look. Her eyes seemed to say, "Take your time, then; I've got all night."
Ragnar's blood boiled, but Alvis's serene smile merely widened. "Well my dear girl, you've caused a right uproar this night. However did you get into the castle? Surely the guards would have seen you enter."
"A student smuggled me in months ago, Sir," the girl explained. "I've been hiding in plain sight ever since."
Alvis hummed. "And who was this student?"
"It was Hiccup, Sir."
With the exception of Alvis, everyone glanced at Hiccup in shock.
Hiccup looked angry. "I did not! I've never even seen you before tonight! How the Hel would I be able to smuggle you into the castle?!"
The girl looked at him, unruffled by his fury. "First, that's a lie; you stared right at me during that match against Slytherin. Second, I have a question— Where's Karita?"
Hiccup blinked, confused, before getting mad again. "Don't change the subject, answer me!"
But the girl pressed on. "Where's Karita, Hiccup? You haven't seen her since this morning. She was nowhere to be found when you entered the common room. It's unusual. So where is she?"
Hiccup stared at her, dumbstruck. "What- what do you…"
"There was no Karita, Hiccup. She never existed. It was always just me," the girl said.
"That- that…"
"Can't be true," the girl finished for him. "Yes, I imagine you'd like some evidence. Luckily enough, I happen to have it. The day you found me, there was a bit of parchment on the welcome mat, remember? Scribbled onto it in big letters were the words, "Take care of her, lad. It's all I ask of you." You started to question it, but your horrid relatives got up from the table, so you carried me upstairs to your room."
Hiccup's eyes widened. "I…I never told anyone what that note said. I'd almost forgotten it myself."
The girl nodded. "And why wouldn't you? To you, they probably didn't seem very important. But I watched my father—" she pointedly ignored the winces the word "father" received "—write those very words. He spent a good twenty minutes perfecting them; how could I possibly forget? He led me to the doorstep—crying all the while, not that he'd ever admit to it—, and sped off the moment I knocked on the door. I shifted into my animal form right before you appeared."
Ragnar glanced almost desperately at Astrid, who had taken her turn to voice suspicions.
"And why did you do that? Why wouldn't you find someone who knew who you were?"
The girl raised an eyebrow. "Astrid, the entire Viking world thinks that I'm dead. Besides the people in this room, only one boy knows of my existence. Where would I go? Besides, I knew what I was doing; the Norns had been whispering it in my ear on and off for months."
"And there's another reason for me to dislike you. Thanks, you're too kind," Ragnar thought bitterly.
All the same, his heartbeat sped up. Every argument against her claims seemed almost soundly refuted. The note, her marking that supposedly no one had been born with in three decades, and her eerie knowledge of what Gobber had done his first night in Azkaban… No one else could've had all of it.
What could he do now?
He was broken out of his thoughts by the girl's low chuckle. "Mind, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life as a tiny puppy, but I figured I'd find a solution sooner or later. Getting attacked had been a bit unexpected—"
"I thought you were a seer," Ragnar muttered. It was the first time he had spoken since she'd woken up, and he himself was surprised by the ice in his tone.
The girl turned her head towards him. "Indeed I am, Ragnar, but the Norns don't tell me everything that could possibly happen. That's far too much knowledge for any mere mortal; I'd lose my mind!"
He could've cheerfully strangled her by this point.
"Speaking of which," Alvis said, stepping forward, "This has certainly been enough of a surprise for one night. I must ask the three of you to return to Gryffindor tower and attempt to get some sleep. Miss Harkstow shall remain here for tonight; perhaps tomorrow as well, if Bergljot feels it necessary."
"Sir," the girl said, as though she had suddenly remembered something, "Before you leave, there's something I need to tell you… Alone, if you don't mind…"
Alvis nodded. "Of course you may speak to me in private, dear girl. But let the others say goodbye first."
Phlegma the Fierce and Gobber both gave the girl tight hugs, Gobber nearly crushing her. Gothi the Elder patted her back fondly. Astrid and Hiccup glanced at each other awkwardly and muttered "Good night" in almost perfect unison. Ragnar looked away, refusing to acknowledge her.
The girl smiled a little, her expression wry. "I expected as much, Ragnar. Good night, all of you."
Phlegma the Fierce ushered the five out in front of her. As she was closing the Infirmary door, Ragnar heard the girl speak:
"You're going to have to trust me on this, Sir…"
Ta-da...
Yeah, I'm happy I didn't go with this one. (Which isn't to say the version I went with is good, it's just better than the first draft)
If you guys want to keep going with me, I am on ArchiveOfOurOwn, under the name "Chasingstardust22" if not...well, this is hopelessromantic4life giving her final farewell.
(PLEASE NOTE: I'm still going to be reading stories here. I'm not deleting my account or going off the grid. I'm just not going to post any stories here anymore. However, I will be keeping ya'll up-to-date in my profile for what I'm working on)
It's been a journey, you guys. I'm sorry it went this way.