Hello, again! Random Rambler is pleased to offer for your consideration: the first chapter of Every Rose. The title is taken from the song by Poison, called 'Every Rose has it's Thorn'. This story was planned before DH came out, so it should be canon-compliant to that point (for now, some things may change later).
Disclaimer: Do I really need this? I don't own anything you recognize.
The Attack
Harry really detested his Muggle relatives at some times, and this was one of them. It was nine o'clock on a Wednesday evening and they were sitting around the kitchen table talking about the events of everyone's day, as per order of the Smeltings guidance counselor, who claimed that Dudley wasn't socializing with his parents enough. Personally, Harry thought it was a few years too late for Dudley, and the sadistic woman just wanted to see what it was like to torture an innocent family. Rather Voldemort-esque, really, except that, instead of enduring the Cruciatus Curse, Harry was forced to listen to his relatives pretend that they led busy, productive lives.
Uncle Vernon was in the middle of a hugely mind-numbing tale about a Grunnings board meeting when they heard the first of a series of loud cracks. Harry was so bored out of his mind that he didn't even think of an Apparating wizard until the screams began to echo through the night. He immediately jumped up and headed for the front window, peering through the curtains with no small amount of trepidation.
The whole street was lit up in a sickly green glow that emanated from the Dark Mark floating high above the neighborhood. The light was only eclipsed by Number Seven, which was in flames. Harry ran back into the kitchen. With a calmness that surprised even himself, he said, "Listen to me. We're under attack by Lord Voldemort. We need to leave now." He was stunned when the whole family got up and headed for the door with surprising lack of resistance, aside from a brief query from Dudley about the welfare of his new computer.
All four of them had just squeezed into the hall when the door was flung open with enough force to send it crashing into the opposite wall. A tall figure was standing there, apparently female, though her face was covered by a Roman-style helmet and black silk mask. When she spoke, it was low and melodious, and confirmed her gender as female.
"My name is Ashleigh O'Kennedy. I will not hurt you, but I would ask that you all come with me, for your own safety." She twisted about to look at the burning Number Seven, brushing a few scarlet hairs out of her vision, then turned back. "Is this everyone who lives here?" She asked calmly, as though merely inquiring about the day's weather.
"Yes, it's just the four of us," Harry managed to spit out in his confusion. This was obviously not a member of the Order, so who was she? He had no time to ponder this, however. At his response, Ashleigh had whirled about with a 'come with me' gesture and ran down the steps into the yard. Harry and the Dursleys followed, only to be stunned into immobility by the sight that greeted them.
A dozen or so giant black horses skittered about nervously on the front lawn of Number Four. Their riders were dressed similarly to Ashleigh, with long black tunics and metal helmets, and drawn swords. Ashleigh swung herself into the saddle of one of the horses, then leaned down to Harry, who was only a few feet away. He could almost look into her eyes.
"Harry, listen to me. You are very valuable to our cause and I have heard of your tendency for heroics. Abandon it. Your job is only to survive this night. Run west and my soldiers will find you. Be careful, Cousin." She immediately turned the horse away, to combat a small group of Death Eaters who were approaching the house, rather stupidly, from the front.
Harry could only stand and watch as the horsemen moved away. When the last Death Eater had been ridden down and dispatched, Ashleigh looked back and yelled, "Run, you idiots!" Harry forced his feet to move blindly in the direction she had indicated. He could hear the Dursleys, none of whom where in the best physical condition, huffing and puffing behind him.
They ran west, ending up at a small copse of trees that seemed to be a favorite destination of their neighbors. While the Dursleys immediately headed for the back of the group, Harry remained at the front, desperate to see more of the action, and especially of the girl who had named him cousin. The Dark Mark and the burning house provided enough light, but there wasn't much to see. His observations were interrupted by the arrival of more horsemen. Apparently, they traveled in packs.
Harry wasn't afraid of the riders, having previously met some of them, but some of his neighbors were reticent to accept their beneficence. A man Harry recognized as his next-door neighbor even picked up a rock and threw it at the foremost rider. It hit him on the helmet with a metallic thunk. The rider laughed. "Peace. My name is Gabriel and I am Captain of the First Company. We mean you no harm. You must all come with us, so that we may sort out this situation and attend to any injuries." His voice was vaguely familiar to Harry, and it gave him a nervous feeling, as though the voice itself could cause him harm.
His neighbors had no such qualms, however. They were terrified, and if Lord Voldemort himself had appeared and offered them aid, they would have accepted it, no questions asked. Harry was more reluctant to accept the unknown aid, but when Aunt Petunia poked him in the back and said, "Just do what they say, boy," he swallowed his misgivings. With military efficiency, everyone was given a place at a Portkey and instructions on what to expect. They disappeared in a swirl of color and landed in a place vaguely reminiscent of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, though slightly smaller.
After that, Harry remembered little, as if his body had taken it upon itself to move into autopilot. He was led to a long wooden bench by someone he didn't know and sat down upon it, then rested his head on the tabletop. Though he yearned to be doing something, anything, his Gryffindor drive and courage seemed to have deserted him. People moved about the hall, but Harry could only sit in silence like the rest of the shell-shocked refugees.
After a few minutes, or perhaps a few hours, they were interrupted. Ashleigh, the girl Harry had seen earlier, approached the group. He lifted his head, hopeful that someone would tell him what was going on. Ashleigh strode up to the front of the group and waited for silence. She had removed her helmet and mask and Harry could now see a pretty, angular face and long scarlet hair, braided with silver ornaments that clinked together like tiny bells. Dark blue lines swirled across her face. She frowned at the group's inattention, inadvertently changing the pattern and making herself look somewhat malevolent. Eventually, when everyone was looking at her, she began to speak. Harry had to force himself to pay attention to her Irish-accented words, so interesting did he find the blue patterns of her skin.
"Refugees. You are fleeing and unprovoked attack on your homes. I would like to emphasize that none of you, none of you, did anything to cause this situation. It would have occurred regardless of any individual's presence or absence. My soldiers are now removing the threat and you will be able to return to your homes in short order. In the meantime, you have been brought here so we can ascertain who is present, injured, or simply absent. To do that, I would like you to divide into groups, however, do not move until I say so.
"The first group will be seated at the three tables to my right. If you are injured in any way; if you received so much as a paper cut this evening, you will be seated there, when I give the okay. The second group will be seated at the tables directly in front of me.
Those of you who are completely uninjured, but are missing someone from your household, will be seated there. The third group is for those of you who are uninjured and missing no one from your household. As you move about, I need the head of each household to come forward and write your name, along with the names of all of your dependents, as well as your home address upon this sheet of parchment. This is so that we may contact you if the need arises. Are there any questions at this time?" Her tone was business-like and relaxed, as if this scenario had been previously repeated many times.
Apparently, no one had recovered their equilibrium yet, because there were no questions. Harry was puzzled by this, as his neighbors were some of the biggest busybodies to ever live. He was certain they would want to know everything about the situation. Perhaps they were frightened by this large stone hall and its highly armed inhabitants, one of whom was re-wrapping the handle of a dagger not too far away. Another group of soldiers, these ones unarmed, but no less fierce-looking, gathered next to the huge stone fireplace a few yards away.
The refugees started dividing themselves into the aforementioned groups, and Harry went along with his relatives to the 'uninjured, completely present' tables. Uncle Vernon hesitantly approached the parchment for names, obviously uneasy about getting too close to Ashleigh and her tattoos. Harry grinned, in spite of himself. Anyone who made his uncle nervous was sure to be an ally.
It took a few minutes for everyone to divide up, but once they were separated, things moved faster. Some of the unarmed soldiers took the injured away, presumably to examine them, and the other soldiers moved throughout the people who were missing family. Harry heard snatches of conversation and guessed that they were being interviewed, to provide information for searchers. Ashleigh was perusing the list of names. After a moment, she rolled up the parchment and walked over to the left-hand tables.
"You are very lucky," She addressed the remaining refugees. "You have survived unscathed and will be returning to your homes, as soon as we are sure the threat has been neutralized. I ask your indulgence only a little longer, as the status reports are still coming in. In the meantime, just sit tight. If you need anything, simply ask one of the soldiers." Here she paused briefly, just long enough for everyone's attention to waver, and moved to Harry and his relatives. "The four of you will come with me," She indicated Harry and the Dursleys. "I need to make special arrangements for you." She whirled and walked away, expecting them to follow. They did.
oOo
Ashleigh loved it when people obeyed her orders. Oh, she was very careful not to ask a person to do something impossible, but she was still new enough to command that unthinking acquiescence to her will was exciting. Her cousin and his relatives followed her out of the hall and down the corridor. She could hear them breathing, the two whales panting slightly, even with only this small exertion, the lady-Petunia, perhaps was her name?-only a little quieter. According to Leprechaun and Onyx, Petunia had always been rather frightened of anything out of the ordinary.
And then there was her cousin. He was far too unsuspicious, a surprise to say the least. She had expected him to put up a fight. Hell's bells, Onyx couldn't even get the boy to show respect in class half the time. Well, a few months at Avalon would cure him of that. Her knights were highly trained in warfare, the best chance the Wizarding World had of eradicating Riddle. Not that anyone acknowledged that. What a terrifying thought; that five hundred soldiers stood between evil and the rest of the world.
You'd think they'd have realized our usefulness sometime over the past two thousand years, Ashleigh thought bitterly, before reminding herself that it was a knight's duty to labor unthanked.
On that melancholy note, she yanked open the door to her office and stalked in, scaring the bejesus out of Gabriel, who was dozing in the window seat. She grinned as he fell off of his perch and landed on the floor. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and grinned back, though the expression disappeared as he got a look at Harry. They had been enemies at school. Ashleigh glanced at Harry, who had settled himself in a chair next to his family.
Harry was glaring back at Gabriel. Uh, oh, this could turn ugly. At least it would amuse her for a while, as long as no one died.
A/N: I realize this is a bit convoluted, so a brief explanation: It's mid-July of 1997. Dumbledore is dead and Harry is about to go on his Horcrux hunt, except Ashleigh gets in the way. She tends to do that.
Ashleigh is the seventeen-year-old daughter of Leprechaun, who is dead before the story begins, and Kayda, who is alive, but Ashleigh has met her precisely one time. Ashleigh leads the Avalonian Knights, a quasi-Order of the Phoenix, semi-mythical organization that's been around for over two thousand years. They are based at Avalon Castle, which is in County Kerry, Ireland. As to Gabriel's real name and Onyx's identity, can you guess?
I hope Ashleigh came across as a bit unstable. I'm trying to write her as a smart girl who lives mostly in her own mind, having been exposed to some really scary things in the past (like, Death Eaters). She's also supposed to seem slightly bi-polar, which shows up more later.
Please review and help me improve my writing. I'm desperately trying to make Ashleigh a non-Mary-Sue, but I can't tell if it's working. Also, I'm American, so if you see any glaring errors in my 'British English', please let me know.