In the dead of the night, the sound of ragged breathing, and that of four hooves, could be heard kicking the icy ground as the grey stallion sped through the misty November night.
Lady Lola kicked her horse a few times more, hoping to escape this wretched forest as quickly as she could. She was actually running for her life, on a stolen horse. Lola had been accused of witchcraft by one of her very own maids who had sworn that the brunette had been talking a strange language in her sleep. A deadly hissing that could kill whomever listened to it for too long, she had claimed. Lola had scoffed and waved a hand dismissively at the accusation, and to everyone's astonishment a multitude of knives and forks flew straight in the maid's general direction.
It was not long before Lola was frantically packing her favourite gowns and a generous amount of silver in two ragged, brown, leather bags. She was planning on running away on her favourite horse but the villagers had already grouped themselves around her father's chateau, torches and farming tools in hand chanting: "Burn the witch!"…
She then proceeded through the forest on foot, still carrying her bags; and she managed to stop a rider and convince him to help her, only so she could steal his horse and run in the direction opposite the village.
Lola was miles deep into the eerie forest when she heard a different set of hooves coming from her left, she lead the horse to the right and made it slow down to a trot. At that moment, she cursed herself for forgetting her bow and arrows, for any danger unbeknownst to men could be hiding in this forest that she had heard so many legends on. In her hurry, she had only taken material goods that would only benefit her in the short term whereas a bow garanteed her protection and food. How could she have been so foolish?
She was starting to feel desperate when she saw something glitter on the ground, far in front of her. She kicked the horse's flanks to go and investigate. A couple of minutes later, her horse was drinking at a great lake and she sat, facing what looked like a magnificent castle, her back to a tree trunk.
*•*•*•*•*•*
Godric was sitting in front of his fireplace, reading. He suddenly felt more than bored with his literature and wanted to stretch his legs. He took his wand and left his chambers. After about half an hour of roaming around the castle, he thought a midnight ride would bring him slumber. And so he went to the stable to saddle his horse Leonis, a golden-brown stallion, and strolled around the castle grounds aimlessly until he arrived close to the Black Lake and saw another saddled horse at the opposite end.
The blond haired man lead his horse through a shortcut which he knew to lead where the other steed was, and found that the grey horse was tied to a thick tree branch and that little ways away was a young lady sleeping between two roots of another tree. Godric dismounted his horse and without giving it much thought, he went to wake the lady.
The moon was full, and it brightly lit the sleeping lady's face; showing how much of a beauty she was with her high cheekbones and plump, pink lips. Godric bent down and shook her arm gently, she stirred in her sleep and mumbled something unintelligible. Godric tried to speak to her but she only mumbled louder and hissed at him. That was when Godric knew what she was doing, he had heard his old friend speak the same way. This lady was speaking Parseltongue and, whether she knew it or not, this made her a witch.
Godric untied her horse, which was carrying a rather heavy load, and levitated her body as both went back up to the castle. He set her down in front of the stable just long enough to unsaddle the horses, find a box for hers; and they continued the trip to the castle. He set her in some spare chambers close to his and went to sleep, thinking it would be alright when she woke up.
*•*•*•*•*•*
Lola stretched and moaned as she felt a heavy woolen blanket on her and the warm sunlight on her face. She opened her eyes and had to take a moment to take in her surroundings: she was in a four-poster bed with ruby red sheets and blankets, and golden pillows that felt like they were made out of silk. She knew this was no room of her father's chateau's, but she felt inexplicably safe.
She tried to remember how she'd gotten here and the events of the previous night went back to her in flashes. Afraid, she gasped and scanned the room for her bags. She found them in a corner of the room and went to check their contents.
"Your possessions are safe," said a deep voice that she did not recognize, which came from one of the two high-backed armchairs in front of a live fireplace.
She stopped dead in her tracks, looking for possible weapons in the room, and said, "Who are you?"
The man stood, his golden hair catching the sunlight, and said "My name is Godric Gryffindor, I live in this castle with my friends and colleagues."
"And how did I get here?" She asked, feeling less threatened by his presence though still wary.
"I found you last night, sleeping next to your horse on the bank of the Black Lake," he replied simply, turning around to look at her.
She was going to speak but words died in her throat as she looked at the man standing a few feet from her. His hair ended in curls level with his chin, he had a soft, short golden beard; a strong jawline; thin, pale pink lips; and the most striking deep blue eyes. Lola had only gone abroad once, to France when her father was still alive, but she could remember the ocean's colour vividly and there was no difference between that colour in her memories and that of Godric's hues. His figure was high, higher than Lola's anyway, and his shoulders were set wide apart. He was wearing a red vest over a cream coloured shirt, and he had black leather pants and knee-high boots of the same colour. On his right shoulder hung a golden belt that descended to his waist on the left, it held a sheathed sword whose handle bore rubies. He looked a rather sympathetic man, but Lola had learned never to judge someone on their physical appearance or dress.
Godric shifted awkwardly as he said, "I will call for someone to run you a bath before breakfast is served. Do you have any questions?"
Lola snapped back into reality, "Oh er… I-I uh wanted to know er… No, no questions." Godric made to leave before she called him, "In fact yes, I have to ask you for something." She went to her bag of silver and plucked a handful which she put in Godric's hand, "Would you be so kind as to send someone to the nearest village and buy me a bow and a sheath of arrows? The best possible, if that is not too much to ask. You see, I forgot mine at home when I– well, I forgot mine."
Godric frowned, examining the silver coins, "These… These do not work in the nearest village."
"I'm not in England, am I?" She asked, somehow already knowing the answer.
"You will need gold: Galleons, Sickles and Knuts."
"I'm sorry, what?" She asked incredulously.
"You know, wizard money," Godric clarified, as if it would make everything better.
Lola unconsciously took a step back, "Excuse me?"
Godric blinked at her, "Are you not a witch?"
Lola's heart was racing by now. The villagers had captured her and were trying to get a confession out of her or whatever it was they did to witches before the stake.
"I… I am not a witch, alright? I do not know how those knives flew off the table, and I do not mumble or hiss while I sleep," she said, taking several steps back and calculating how much daring she would need to unsheath the man's sword and use it against him.
Godric could only stare at her, he set the silver coins on a nearby table and held up his hands in surrender, "My Lady, I think there is a misunderstanding. I meant to say that I am also a wizard and that no harm shall befall you whilst you're in this castle, not because you have special abilities."
"'Special abilities'?" She repeated, "is that how you call the Devil's work?"
Godric's hands fell limply at his sides, this was going to be a lot harder than he thought, "'The Devil's work'? Is that how you call magic?"
"It is not how I call it, it is what witchcraft actually is," she objected, folding her arms over her chest.
Already exasperated, Godric whipped his wand out and muttered, "Expecto Patronum."
Lola's sky blue eyes widened as she saw a silver lion form right out of the stick that that man was waving. The silver lion walked toward her and settled down, apparently looking up at her. She had only ever seen lions on books and tapestries, but she knew for a fact that they were not silver, and that they were definitely solid. Yet there was the silver mist right in front of her, looking tame and not entirely solid.
"Magic," said Godric pulling her out of her reverie, "is not always evil."
"It defies religion," she said with conviction.
"In what way?" Godric challenged.
"In… I-It… Well, it just does!"
Godric laughed, high and clear, before repeating "'It just does'? And is that what you call a solid argument?"
Lola folded her arms as she saw the lion disappear, "I don't know about magic but it is dangerous and people are burned at the stake for it. I do not want anything to do with it."
"Yet it is magic that has saved you from freezing last night," he said casually.
"What do you mean?" She asked curiously.
"When I found you, I levitated you up to the castle and I lit this fire with magic," he explained, examining the handle of his sword, feigning indifference.
"I… Really?"
"Really." he said decisively, "I shall run you a bath."
"Didn't you say you were going to send for someone to do so?"
"Yes, but now that I know that you are not familiar with the magical world I shall not." he replied simply before muttering, "This is going to take a lot of convincing…"