By Mnemea
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairings: (I loved the HP/SS pairing so the story is about their love. Enjoy!) HP/SS, HP/LM, HR/RW, DM/GW, NM/LM (and many other pairs later).
Summary: Harry's lost more than just the battle when Voldemort springs a surprise attack on No. 4 Privet Drive. Will the wizarding war end there? Or perhaps the wizarding world will now be forced forever under Voldemort's brutal regime.
Thank you Suraiyah for beta my story. I hope this is better than before.
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PrologueIsland Of The Mighty (125 A.D.)
The maiden lay peacefully within the coffin where she would rest for eternity. She lay surrounded with strewn lavenders and roses, the tenderness of the petals serving only to enhance the beauty of her face. She was dressed in a pink silk gown, the very same she wore when he first spied upon her.
Mourners wept, as the coffin was gradually lowered beneath the earth where her beauty was to wither away unseen. Even the earth grieved for the loss as it was shrouded with the grey cloak of sorrow. He felt an ache, an emptiness that he did not, could not, understand. Twiddling his pointed fingers, he moved away from his hidden location in the thick willow tree to return home.
'By the mother of Goddesses, it was never meant to go so far! Who would have known that she was delicate and would pine unto death? The poor creatures are so easily wounded and even those managing to live to old age, their beauty faded and died. It seems great cruelty. Yet it was the same quality that made them more alive than the Faeries. Is that then the reason? The quickness of their lifespan must be what gives them the passion and heart unknown to our kind.'
His thoughts were interrupted by his mother, Queen Bebo, who materialized before him. He felt her judgment, cold and with regrets, as she observed the burial in the distance.
"I am most displeased."
"Yes, My Lady. I did not intend - "
"I am disappointed in you Gancanagh! You cannot be sated with your own kind, who would not face this end, no matter how you mistreated them. You run forever to the mortal realm with your wicked way and no care for these creatures."
"My Lady -" he protested.
Her fierce gaze silenced him but it started to soften with her eyes moist, almost tear like, when she next spoke,
"On this sorrowful day, I curse you, my son!"
"A curse?" He was surprised as she weaved the intricate spell.
Upon hearing the spell cast he cried out,
"My Lady! I beg you, I am only as I was made."
"And I do what I must to keep the balance of two worlds, as much as it pains me to see you thus." She paused to continue her curse,
"My curse on you is loneliness so vast that it would make stones weep. You will remain in this realm until you repent and true love sets you free."
His precious world, 'Faylinn', that shimmered around him suddenly blended into the mortal world, dissolving and then finally disappearing, leaving only the Queen's final words echoing through the emptiness of the space around him.
"True love."
'Silent... his hope for his mother to waver her decision finally gone.'
"Mother! Might I have my flute at least?" he croaked the words out finally. He had not called her that for many centuries but in desperation he let it slip.
"Very Well. Farewell my son!"
He was alone.
He wandered off waiting for the curse to begin to impose itself on him. He suddenly felt waves of pain surging through his body, and rushed to the nearest pond he could see the full implication of the deformity curse that affected him. For a vainly creature such as the Faeries, it meant the end of the world.
TBC.
If you have read this far please review.
The prologue will make little sense until later chapters, and the reason that the whole curse is not mentioned above is because it would ruin the story. Thank you for reading it. It's my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I'll apologize for any grammar.
AN:
ISLAND OF THE MIGHTY is the title with which Britain was known in the olden days when many powerful wizards and druids were found.
GARCONER/ GANCANAGH, "meaning Love Talker", is an Irish Elf who loves to seduce mortals. He has bright black eyes (*hint* who do you think this reminds you of?). Anyone who yields to his sweet words and kisses is lost. The mortal will pine away and die after he inevitably leaves.
FAYLINN is a fairy realm in Irish folklore, ruled by King Iubdan and Queen Bebo.