Perfect Woman
Chapter One: Phantom of Delight
A/N: Inspired by a plotbunny from PygmyPuff20 on FictionAlley. Also inspired by William Wordsworth's poem "Perfect Woman." All quotes are from his poem. I own neither the characters, nor the plotline, nor the poem. Please read and review.
She was a phantom of delight
When she first gleam'd upon my sight
Goddamn Slughorn, Minerva McGonagall thought exasperatedly, why the bloody hell did he have to give everyone a pass to the Restricted Section? Of course they were all going to check out the only decent copy of Moste Potente Potions. Is he just stupid? Minerva shook her head, annoyed that she was even asking that question in her thoughts. Of course he is! Why else would he name his stupid "group" the "Slug Club"?
She tripped over an uneven stone paving the floor of the Restricted Section. The sound of her body and her books hitting the floor hard echoed loudly through the empty library. It was late – past curfew, to be exact – but, as Head Girl, she was allowed to roam the hallways after-hours. She had yet to procure a copy of Moste Potente Potions for her Potions project, due on Wednesday, so that was why she was in the library this late.
Gathering up her diary, the few Potions texts she had found, and her notes, she noticed a strange book shelved near the floor. Its spine seemed to shimmer with different colours, almost like the Lake when the sun hits it a certain way. Putting her things aside, she knelt down on her knees, which were sore from hitting the stone floor, and peered at the silver title engraved on the spine of the ancient manuscript. The letters were too faded by time to read, so she gently extricated the book from its tightly packed shelf. The letters on the cover of the book were no easier to read, so she gently turned to the first page of the book, hoping that the title would be written there.
No sooner had she turned the page then a wind picked up – or, at least it seemed like a wind. The pages of the book remained unmoving, although Minerva could feel her braid come loose and her hair whip around her face. Everything seemed to be spinning, and Minerva saw the page of the book grow larger – or was she growing smaller? – as she was sucked into the book. It closed with a thump and re-shelved itself. The only remaining sign that Minerva had been there was her pile of textbooks and her diary, neatly stacked on the floor.
A girl – no, more of a young woman – landed on the cold stone floor of their library with a thump. She was wearing black robes with a gold badge pinned on the breast. Underneath her robes, she wore a grey skirt that barely reached her knees, black stockings, a strange type of short boots, and a shirt that resembled a man's. The blonde woman who witnessed her sudden appearance took out her wand.
"Mobilicorpus!" the blonde woman said, directing the girl's body out of the library. She walked up one flight of stairs and nodded to a portrait, which swung open to reveal a small hospital wing. A dark-haired woman rushed over as the blonde woman laid the girl on the bed.
"Who is that? What happened? Where did she come from?" the dark-haired woman asked in one breath.
"Calm down," the blonde-haired woman told her, "I only know the answer to the second question." The blonde then took a minute to Conjure two comfortable, cushioned chairs, indicating to the other woman that she should sit down.
"What happened?" the dark-haired woman repeated impatiently.
"I was working in the library when suddenly; this girl appeared out of nowhere! Obviously, she is unconscious, so she could not have Apparated in to the library."
The dark-haired woman sighed exasperatedly. "How many times do I have to remind you three? You can neither Apparate nor Disapparate from inside this castle!"
The blonde-haired woman sighed as well, though more in frustration with herself. "I'm sorry, Ro. I suppose it just slips my mind."
"That's alright," the dark-haired woman said apologetically, "I suppose I overreacted."
"It's fine, Ro. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Who is this girl? Why is she here? And where did she come from?"
The dark-haired woman listened attentively to the blonde-haired woman. "I think we need to get the men here – maybe they will have some idea of what is going on."
"Good idea." The blonde-haired woman walked over to a portrait on the wall. "Maeve?" she asked the portrait's inhabitant.
"Yes, dear?" the portrait inquired.
"I presume you were paying attention to our discussion?"
"Of course, dear. Do you want me to fetch the other two?" the portrait asked.
"Would you? Send them up here when you find them, please," the blonde-haired woman finished.
Queen Maeve nodded regally and walked sideways out of her portrait, spreading the word to the other portraits to send the two men to the hospital wing.
"What should we do while we are waiting for them?" the dark-haired woman asked.
The blonde-haired woman Conjured two more chairs, identical to the ones she had created earlier; a table, a stack of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell.
"I will write down everything we know about this girl. Ro, why don't you check on her – make sure she does not have any injuries, and the like?"
The dark-haired woman nodded briskly and gathered up her wand, a few bottles, and a few small tubs of potion. She waved her wand over the girl, and began murmuring diagnostic spells over her, while the other woman wrote down all that she knew about their mysterious visitor so far.
17th April 987 A.D.
The Hospital Wing
Today, approximately one hour after the noon meal, a young woman appeared as if from nowhere, falling into the library, near the shelf by the large fireplace. The girl appears to be my height, and is slender, with long, approximately waist-length hair of a deep chestnut colour, appearing almost black. When she appeared, she was wearing black robes with a gold badge pinned on the breast. She was wearing a grey skirt that barely was long enough to cover her knees, black stockings, a strange type of short boots, and a shirt, which in its design resembles a man's shirt, but it fits her well.
Ro is giving her a preliminary examination as we wait for the other two to arrive, in order to discuss our new visitor.
Queen Maeve's portrait appeared in the dungeon, where a tall, thin man with dark brown hair was brewing potions.
"The women need you in the hospital wing at once," Queen Maeve told the man as he looked up from his boiling cauldron.
"Can it not wait, Maeve?" he asked, annoyed, "I've only just started on a new batch of healing potions."
"No, it cannot. It is a matter of urgency. They need you there now!" she said, insulted that he dare question her authority. She had been teaching the magic folk of Ireland before their grandparents were even born!
"I will join them in a moment," the man sighed resignedly, Vanishing his potion.
"Good," Queen Maeve sniffed, and huffed off to find the last member of their group.
She found the auburn-haired man in the Great Hall, finishing a sketch of his ideas for the ceiling.
"You are needed in the hospital wing immediately!" Queen Maeve snapped, still annoyed at having her authority questioned.
The auburn-haired man looked up dreamily, still engaged in his sketch.
"Yes, Maeve?" he asked, his eyes glazed over, his mind obviously somewhere else.
"You are needed in the hospital wing!" the portrait all but shrieked, startling the man out of his reverie.
"Right," he said, running a hand through his shaggy hair, "I am coming."
Back in the hospital wing, the dark-haired woman was bent over the unconscious girl, casting diagnostic spells.
Hmm… a slight concussion, possibly from the fall… and a fractured wrist? Skinned kneecaps?
She murmured healing spells, watching in satisfaction as the painful grimace on the girl's face smoothed away into an expression of peace. Opening one of the small jars, the woman rubbed a bit of the thick potion onto the girl's skinned kneecaps, nodding as the skin healed quickly. She looked up as the door was flung open and admitted two men into the room.
"…And that was what happened," the blonde-haired woman said, concluding her part. The two men nodded.
"When do you think she will wake, Ro?" the auburn-haired man asked.
"Any time between now and two days from now," the dark-haired woman replied.
"I think that we should make a schedule, allowing one of us to be here at all times in case she does wake up," the formerly silent, dark-haired man said.
"That is an excellent idea," the other man said, clapping him on the back.
"I can take the first shift," the dark-haired man said.
The two women sighed in relief. "Thank you," the blonde-haired woman said.
After assuring the two women and the other man that he could take care of their unexpected arrival, and that he would send for them if she awoke, he ushered them out of the hospital wing and stood at the doorway, watching them retire to the different parts of the castle that housed their rooms.
Then, storing the notes the blonde-haired woman had taken during their meeting, he Banished the Conjured furniture and sat down on the edge of the occupied bed. He had not had a chance yet to look closely at their visitor.
The first thing that struck him was her beauty – her perfectly shaped features, her dark, luxurious hair. He watched her, captivated, as her chest rose with each breath that she took. He had thought himself in love with Ro, but now he realised that was not true. He had lost his heart to this sleeping woman within seconds of first laying eyes upon her.
It had been only few seconds or several hours when she began to stir. Opening her gorgeous blue eyes for the first time since her arrival, she looked deep into his grey ones. Blinking her long eyelashes several times, she looked around the room as if confused with the scenery, before looking back into the man's deep grey eyes.
"Where am I?"