Summary
Perhaps boy meets girl might be an inaccurate description for Harry, Nevertheless, in these dark ages, he must help his young lady. Even if it only means saving themselves... [Feudal Age]
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Prologue: Fate
Loud chimes strike through every ear in Manchester. People of the land wearing tunics turn their heads to gaze at the ringing bells of the Cathedral. The number of rings shares the time of day among its people. Now, however, the bell is ringing with a second and third bell. That's never a good sign. Smokes of fire rise from top of its tower, underneath the still ringing bells
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A servant wearing armor appears before the door of the balcony, behind a fifteen year old girl, Daphne Greengrass
"My Lady, we must leave!" The Servant beckons.
"Where is Harry?"
"He's already on his way to meet us at the kitchens. We must hurry!"
"Please allow me to change. We will not be able to escape in my current attire."
She reaches inside of drawers. The man turns himself towards the door in respect.
Smells of fire reach them. Her dress would certainly either slow her down or worse, burn her to death.
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Screams of people from the building, a mansion, fill the walls. Servants and high officials run for the gates. Men in black robes and white masks echo green spells from their wands.
"Avada kedavra!"
Many bodies fall to the ground, unmoving, while the rest spread around the courtyard in panic. Daphne was watching from a window, just a room away from the kitchen, and rushes towards the kitchen with her servant. The servant pulls two pots, specifically one on the right and then the left, to have the floor open. A staircase leading straight down to a dark basement.
"Please, allow me to go first." The servant requests.
"Thank you," she replies softly, "but please, believe in me."
She steps down the stairs into the darkness before he can object.
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Many hours has past since their escape from the mansion. Daphne crosses the murky swamps. A boy chuckles behind.
"What has you giggling, Harry?" She asks,
"Us, walking through this shite stained waters."
"You dare not throw anything at me." She warns sternly, not looking back. What are you, a child."
"I am fourteen, missy." He states with mirth.
"I suppose if you are useful for one thing, it would have to be your dry sense of humor." She slightly smiles.
Passing a few trees in the mire, they stop, and notice a trail of black smoke rising into the skies from the direction of Robin Hood's Bay. They both look at each other; worried about their own futures. The path they walk has just become much longer. Even after she had to leave everyone behind, she presses forward.
"To Scotland it is." One of them say.
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Chapter One: Predicted future
"Today, we shall mourn the passing of Daphne Greengrass."
A priest stands before a black coffin with golden trims ordained around the edges and top. It was crafted on the order of Lord Voldemort.
"As you all know, she was a pureblood and yet she chose to lead our enemy and fought alongside our greatest foe, Harry Potter."
Murmurs spread across the crowd. The city of London is filled with muggleborn and purebloods from the entire globe. In an ironic turn of events, the Muggles flocked to London, so that they could avoid even worse conditions. These muggles surrendered themselves to Concentration camps, Brothels, and Slavery held in white buildings constructed. The city became a glistening symbol of prosperity for Pure-Blooded Wizards and Witches alike. The only things that stood below muggleborns were their fathers, mothers, and muggle friends.
"She may have been our enemy, but we shall respect her passing, for she-." His speech was interrupted by the gasps that followed upon opening the casket. When the gathering settled down, he continued,
"is gone."
Two black hooded men can be seen carrying a human sized crate through the roads, passing the funeral. Under one of the men's darkened faces, a pair of emerald eyes shimmered in anger.
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"Please, Sir. Have mercy!" A man with red hair cries out with his Scottish voice in front of a top-rounded plank doorway.
"Mercy? Why?"
The greened eyed man speaks as his companion comes in a door behind him with her ponytailed hair glistening in the torch's light under her hood. He closes the distance between them, causing the scottish man to fall on his back.
"All I asked of you, is to allow me in. Did I even say anything threatening to you?" He spoke softly.
"No, Sir!" The man replies and quickly straightens himself back up.
"Thank you, Mister Hendric."
The two hooded people walk past Hendric as he opens the door before them. Before the two enter, they turn around to lift the casket. Once inside, both of them look around the haunty stone walled room. The green-eyed man settles his eyes on a tanned man, wearing a gray hooded tunic, lying against a stone brick pillar. He slowly stands straight after noticing the Green-Eyed Man's stare.
"Harry." He speaks.
"Alistair." Harry speaks back, lowering his hood.
"If you're here, then we're doing it, right?" Alistair asks.
"Correct." Harry states bluntly.
"What about your friend?" He points to the other hooded individual.
Harry turns to her and asks, "Are you sure you don't want to back out of this?"
She shakes her head to show her support. "I am against it, but I am with you, Harry."
"You heard her." He shifts himself enough for him to look back towards Alistair. "Let's get to it now, Alistair. Or must I make it more clear?"
Allistair holds his hands up yieldingly. "Hey now, I'm not about to turn you down after all that has happened. Truly, I am sorry for-"
"You can make up for it by doing your job." Harry interrupts.
"I will. God knows this city needs a wake up call, if not..." Alistair's sentence trails solemnly. "...then maybe this world is beyond saving."
"It is beyond Salvation. All that is left..." Harry coldly says.
The woman exhales deeply and hugs herself with her right arm.
"...is the world's choice to burn and die by the cold winds of the storm."
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The Sky's Moon glows brightly in the fifth hour of the night.. A room with six straw beds lay quietly; three on each side and rustle sound of pillows made from straw fly through the dark room. They hit one person talking in his sleep, so thus he wakes from his nightmare.
"Quiet down!" Someone says across from him in a loud whisper.
Harry's innocent eyes reflects a bit of moonlight from the glassless window. He looks around the room and shakes his head.
"Bad dream." He slaps his cheeks to wake himself up and reaches for his glasses.
"You okay, Harry?" A boy, who looks to be midway of his teens, speaks softly.
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"Happy fourteenth birthday, Harry!"
"Sh!" Everyone else in the bedroom makes and the boy grins in embarrassment.
"Thanks, Alistair." Harry says as he sits himself up to stretch himself.
"Harry, I got you something."
"What is it?" Harry curiously asks with his fingers slightly rubbing his chin.
Harry puts on his glass as he waits for Allistair. The fumbling Allistair brings out an expensive looking frame with familiar eyes on one of the people in the photo. Harry's Aunt Petunia Evans Dursley could be seen to the left of the frame next to a redheaded woman standing beside her. Their parents holding hands with each other behind the two girls. All of them are smiling at the artist before the family Tavern and the farms in the distance.
"I figured the pretty lady next to Petunia to be your mother, so I knew I had to snatch it once I saw it." Alistair hands him the picture from his bed. "Harry?"
Harry does not respond and instead he holds the frame close before his tears could fall on top of it. Alistair brings himself out of bed to console Harry by holding him close.
"It's alright, Harry. Come on, it's time to get dressed. You can cry over it later." He decides to distract him. "Or else Petunia will sic the wolves on us."
"R-right!"
Harry chuckles as he rubs the tears away from his face. Harry dresses himself as he leaves the room without noticing the small box under his bed.
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A dark room with several lit lanterns spread across the room. A chime could be heard from the door. Four men walk up from the door to the stools in front of a counter. One young boy turns around with his eyes flickering from the light.
"Welcome to the Dursley's Tavern again. What can I get you?" Harry asks.
"How's oldman Dursley treating you." Harry does not respond. "He ought to treat you with some decency. You practically running the tavern by ye' self. Just look at my boys. "
He waves his arm to the three gentlemen sitting quietly beside him.
"It's not like it can be helped..." He pauses "But what can I get you, Mr. Crowley?"
Crowley takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Alright, I'll have some Chicken on Rye with a bottle of Ale. Gimme boys the same. They've earned their keep."
"Rye bread?"
"Which to pick...?" Crowley looks like he is pondering the question. "O' course you bloody twit, Rye bread."
"Have you heard the rumors going around, Mr. Crowley?"
"No, I came 'ere to eat as I listen for the crier across the city!" He gives a pointed stare at Harry. "I've been hearing talks of Malfoy and his associates are stirring a hornet's nest around the country."
A chime rings from the door once more. A tall mid-aged woman comes yelling around the place. Every customer in the room all immediately stood up and rush out the door.
"What's going on? I can't hear what the woman is yelling about?" Harry asks loudly.
"Sounds like the Greengrass Family is back. Come on, you know the drill!" Crowley beckons.
"But I'm just a servant!" He replies back.
"Then let yourself see their faces for once. Now move it!" Crowley moves behind Harry and pushes him outside of the Tavern.
Harry tries to cover his eyes from the bright sun glowing brightly down on the city streets. Knights and swordsmen file along the road to clear out a path for the coming noble family. A roofless white carriage with two wide seats facing each other were being pulled by a team of four horses and the coachman.
"Look at that, the bloody coachman is wearing fine gentleman's clothes." One of Crowley's servants speaks. "And he's their servant too!"
Harry looks at the coachman and has a slight feeling of jealousy. Just when he was about to turn back, he feels a pair of eyes pass over him as they ride on by. Harry grows curious and makes his way to the front of the crowd to clearly see better. Four people occupied the carriage. The noble Father of the family, who is deep in thought as he's reading a book, strangely puts the book to his ear. He has dark brown hair and dark blue eyes. Harry could not see what eyes the man's wife has, but she and her oldest daughter share blonde hair with beautiful shades of gold to them. She was sitting next to her husband as she was talking to her youngest child.
"They're a beaut, right 'arry?" Crowley nudges Harry on the shoulder.
"Yes, they are." Harry responds.
"The youngest one shares her father's hair." Crowley nudges Harry again, but then find him staring at the carriage. " 'arry?"
The man sets his gaze upon a the eldest daughter. He pushes Harry slightly again.
"I hear they treat their servants kindly. Are you jealous?"
"What? No! I am just..." Harry's words fade as he looks at the oldest daughter.
"That's Daphne Greengrass, you know?"
Daphne is staring out the other way from Harry. One could say she lies in boredom.
"Daphne..." A small pause from Harry. "Greengrass."
"Yeah, you interested or something?"
Harry turns to him after he spoke.
"Maybe I could slip to them how the Dursleys are treating you. They might feel sympathetic." Crowley walks back into the Cavern with Harry in tow.
"I hear she's called the Solemn Witch." One of Crowley's servants says.
"No way, I hear she's named the Ice Queen, Ice Queen of the witches." Another servant states. "So far, every courting attempt by other nobleman has failed. Did you hear? She even turned down Lord Malfoy's proposal to her father!"
"How did she do that?" Eric asks loudly as Harry stops at the door the moment the servant said queen.
"Who knows, one of their servants says her father was laughing his socks off after Malfoy left the family mansion."
A blurry image shows in Harry's head. Two voices giggling with delight in the farmlands outside the city. A little boy's voice saying,'I'm sure you would make a great Queen.'
" 'arry?" Crowley shakes him.
"Huh?" Harry shakes his head before he walks into the Tavern. "Sorry, would you like anything?"
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"Harry!" Crowley yells.
"What is it?" Harry speaks loudly as Crowley places a bag in his hands and then pushes him.
"It's Dudley and his gang. They're coming for you again!"
"But I'll get even more in trouble if I leave without cleaning up!"
"I will 'andle the cleaning! Just save your arse before they grab a hold of ya!" Crowley kicks him out the door before he slams it shut.
"There's the freak! Duds! He's over here!"
'Why do they always call me that?' Harry thinks in his head and runs into an alley.
Dudley and his companions chase after him three blocks down the stone brick path, Harry jumps over a cart of cabbages. The cart turns suddenly and fumbles over. Fresh green food fall onto the dirt streets below them.
"My cabbages!" An aged man yells in horror when he sees Dudley steps on a significant amount of them.
Harry turns around a corner to see one of Crowley's servants waving at him. He follows the servant towards a wall in an alley..
"I'll give you a lift!" The boy bends slightly with his hands out.
"Thanks!" Harry steps on the boy's hands and leaps on top of the obstacle. "What about you?"
"Don't worry about me! It's you who they want!" The boy runs away out of view from the alley.
Harry slides off the wall and falls on his feet before a ray of light slightly blinds him. He sees a hill with a single tree on top. The sun slowly descends as he walks up the hill with a tree on top. A soft melody could be heard.
'This song feels familiar.' Harry stops around the tree to see a young girl lay against it.
The girl hears Harry's footsteps and turns her head to see. A closer look reveals she has light blue eyes. Harry took a gulp of air at recognition of the young lady, Daphne Greengrass. She brings herself up to face Harry. He gazes down upon her dress, the same blouse she was wearing on the carriage. It was a royal blue with a few white lines flowing down her arms and around the waist. Sunlight radiates off her hair and dress as the wind blew softly.
"Greetings." She says.
"Uh..." Harry fumbles to speak. "Hello."
"Is there something wrong?" She blinks.
"Sorry for coming in without asking." he bows forward.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, I did just enter over that wall behind me."
She leans slightly to see the wall in question. Daphne makes a brief small smile before she tells him
"I do suppose it might have something to do with some hooligans making a mess."
"You saw that?" Harry blushes for a second and rubs the back of head with his right arm. "I suppose it was a funny sight."
"It certainly was with a man screaming cabbages."
Wind blows many leaves and small twigs. He hesitates to speak.
"I think I should get going now." Harry nervously says, shifts himself to leave.
"There is difference between hesitation and being cautious, you know?" She speaks calmly.
Harry turns his shoulders towards Daphne to only be blinded by the remaining light as the sun finally falls below the horizon. The wind's breeze slow to a halt. Daphne slightly leans her head slightly.
"You have something to ask. I can tell." She states without any doubt.
Harry takes a small pause and breathes in. He remains silent until the wind blew again and her dress billows.
"What is it to be like nobility?" He asks.
"To be nobility..."
She stares at him at him for a moment. Harry takes a gulp from anticipation and then she blinks.
"It is to be human. The greatest human one can possibly be." The lady serenely spoke.
Harry stands there confused and unable to understand her meaning. He steps forward until he is at the base of the tree.
"What do you mean?" Harry nudges his own cheek with his thumb.
"Perhaps you are the type to believe great men lead by fear." Daphne's eyelids lower. "Or maybe..."
He faces his body towards her as she walks past him. Harry's shoulder touches the tree. He looks at his shoulder and brushes off the small pieces of tree bark. The boy sets his gaze back up to see Daphne's nearly cup his face, but instead it falls down to pull the collar of his tunic
"... you would prefer to remain a servant." She says while revealing on top of his heart lay the Dursley Emblem burned into his flesh
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Sounds of straw pillows meeting heads become quiet as Harry lays his head. He reaches his open hand out towards the ceiling. The servant could hear crickets in the distance as he thinks.
'That girl certainly is something.' Harry closes his hand. 'And for one thing, she sure has one hell of a smile.'
Just when he sees the image of Daphne's smile glow even after the light faded from the horizon, Alistair walks in and lands on top of his bed.
"Today was tiring as bloodied hell!" He says before loud murmurs of 'sh' came across the room. "What about you?"
"Hm, nothing really." He thinks of Daphne's final words to him before sleep claims him.
'You should strive to be better.'
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"Are you sure you're ready to do this, Harry?" A woman spoke softly behind Harry who pulled down his hood.
The Woman receives silence from her friend. She takes a step towards him after pulling down her own hood. Her face slightly glow as they start a campfire in the forest near London to show her eyes and slightly bushy brown hair. The fire burns brighter in front of them before she finally settles a pot over the flames. The Woman pours in water prior to an attempt to comfort him.
"Harry, you know it isn't your fault."
"What was not my fault? Where I failed to reach her in time? Or-"
He stands up abruptly, but not surprisingly, and starts to pace back and forth, leaving footprints beneath him. The Women could see the sparkles of the flames reflect off his eyes as he looks at her. The Woman waits to allow him to vent his frustrations.
"Aren't you going to eat anything, Hermione?" Harry speaks her name roughly. The water filled pot remained untouched. Hermione is sitting a fair distance away from it.
"I will cook something when you're ready."
Harry's right hand grips tighter on his wand and lets out a kick into the pot. The boiling water pours onto the dirt as he breathes in a slightly heavier manner. Hermione uses a small cloth to lift the kettle back onto the fire and fills it with water once again.
"Why do you let me kick that thing every time?" He asks her after he closes his eyes as he sits down near her.
"Why ask that every time?" She counters.
She receives another silent answer.
"I guess it's because I know it calms you down, at least besides..." She pauses.
"Not like she can now, not after I failed." He speaks in a sullen voice.
"Harry, you know it's not your fault."
"How can it not be my fault?"
"Harry..." She says his name, as if she were his wife.
She moves her hand to reach his face. Tears flow down her fingers as Harry starts trembling.
"She..." Hermione waits patiently for his answer as his voice slightly cracks. "...She should have killed me instead."
Glossary
Muggles
People who are without magic.
Purebloods
People who are born of a long lineage of magic users.
Muggleborn
People Born from muggles
Halfblood
People born of parents from muggle or muggle-born and pureblood.