Hey all, sorry for the sporadic updates and such.
This is my attempt at a number of things. First: a story I can hopefully finish. Second: a story to ease people into the concept of the BJT world in an already familiar environment, designed to teach and nurture. Third: silence a nagging muse who has been sitting on this plot for a while. ^_^ Please bear with me as I come to terms with the OotP, as I haven't read it in a while. If I stumble and commit an error, let me know in some fashion. Also, I welcome all questions, challenges to my logic, notifications of plot holes, warnings of OOC-ness (I fear Harry is already slipping a bit here, but do remember that some characters are being pulled by a new element in the way they think and feel. In respect to that story-element, please take into account that some citations of OOC-isms are merely my interpretations of how they'd react if they had the instincts from the BJT world), Flames, praise, and reviews are all welcome! Shameless flames and praise are accepted but will mean less without relevant backing.

Thanks, and enjoy the ride!
Disclaimer: I own neither the Harry Potter Universe nor the Black Jewels Trilogy Universe. Created by J. K. Rowling and Anne Bishop, respectively. Here's a dedication to two Ladies with a knack for weaving intricate worlds. Please enjoy my dedication, as follows in the form of this story.

Harry moaned at the peculiar tingling in his chest. Rolling over, he examined the gray pre-dawn light that invaded his four-poster bed. With a glance to his bedside table, he confirmed that it was indeed too early to be awake, especially on a sunday with no good reason to be up before noon. Half glaring and half squinting to read his clock, Harry pulled on his glasses and groaned as he noted the hands' positions with disdain. Anything before 6 was painful, but 4am was just insane. He wasn't even sure Hermione was willing to sacrifice her sleep to wake up this early.

Rolling over after placing his glasses safely back on the table, he sought warmth from the drafty tower dormitory in his bed. Unsuccessfully, he tossed for a little over an hour before giving up and resigning himself to an early morning. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed, and gave his bandaged hands an apologetic rub, he should probably be sleeping to aid in their recovery. It was no use, though, and just laying there made him feel just as pointless as being a purple fish. It just didn't make any sense.

Choosing to simply pull on his school robes over his pajamas and a warm winter coat over that, Harry descended the stairs, glad that he'd also chosen to step into his shoes. Cool marble was only a blessing in the summer.

Once in the common room, he caught sight of an astronomical calendar left over from a student's late night study of the stars. Curiosity overwhelming his sense to resist prying, he located today's date and noted with some amount of muted interest that he'd chosen to wake up painfully early on the autumnal equinox.

From somewhere deep inside him, bubbled up a thought, Winsol will be here soon, Harry had the sense to look around before deciding the foreign term had come from his own mind. Without any other explanation, and the burning curiosity about what the hell Winsol was, Harry made his way outside where he could think freely. Checking his pocket for his wand, Harry pressed the large doors open and cringed when they creaked.

Wishing he could isolate the sound from everyone else, Harry closed the large doors behind him and breathed in the fresh early-morning Autumn air.

There was something pure about the air, and he couldn't help the grin that blossomed on his face. Just breathing the fresh air outside the stuffy castle, though it was drafty, made him feel alive. Almost as alive as he felt in the air. Thinking in hindsight, Harry realized that it probably would have been nice to watch the sunrise from his lofty position. Hell, as long as he was awake, he might as well do something invigorating. Merlin knew how stressful the first few weeks of class had been, and Professor Umbridge was no help.

On a particularly dangerous spell of courage, Harry let his feet carry him wherever they would, and kept walking when they led him under the eaves of the Forbidden Forest. He knew the dangers of the forest, but he also knew that wisdom and life lived and strove here. Harry didn't have a plan, exactly, he just felt like walking. It seemed so easy to follow the tingling in his chest that pulled him into the forest.

The same tingling that woke him, kept him awake, suggested the term Winsol, and led him into the forest, it was a dark but nonthreatening sensation. It had the potential to be dangerous, but Harry somehow knew that the darkness within him was not interested in his demise. It was a curious sensation, and Harry wondered at the complexity of such a feeling. Somehow, Harry knew to trust his new instincts.

After walking for some time and musing the whole way, Harry came to a clearing that was lush with green plant-life and dotted with a few dabs of color. The most beautiful expositions of color in the field less than half the size of the boy's dormitory were deep vibrant red flowers whose scent was intruiging and oh so sweet. With a little bit of shock, he realized that they smelled dark somehow, in the same way the tingling sensation felt dark, but neither of them were threatening, it was instead a sweet darkness that ushered him into a sanctuary. Kneeling in front of the crimson flowers, he noted that they had dark veins of black and equally black throats.

His green eyes observed their beauty is quiet awe, and when his gaze shifted again, the shadows had moved just slightly, but there in the shade of an immense oak tree-trunk, almost as though the oak had grown around the granite slab, was a perfectly smooth rectangle of immaculate black stone, like the darkest midnight sky. With some amount of inner-agreement, Harry thought it looked a great deal like an altar, but since he didn't know what it was an altar to, he had no qualms about approaching the smooth black stone that had become so entwined with nature without overwhelming either side.

The stone was cool to the touch, and the tingling within him resonated with his touch of flesh to granite, and Harry was compelled to stay there for a little longer. He couldn't explain the tug he felt somewhere near where he imagined his soul would have been physically, but the term 'Sweet Darkness' came pretty close. It was a phrase suggested by a voice from deep within him.

Harry sat down with no exaggerated sense of reverence, since he didn't know anything about the place, with his back against the dark altar and he simply observed nature. Small wildlife cautiously played life as normal, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, so did Harry's equal pull to stay from within and desire to return for breakfast. He didn't even consider reassuring his friends of his wellbeing.

Soon enough, the pull of hunger pains overtook his desire to be calmed and quietly reassured by the aura of the clearing, and as he left, Harry took careful note of how to return. He would be back to his quiet sanctuary, and just maybe he would share it with someone.

Maybe.


Remember to ask questions! The chances are high that if my explanation was foggy for you, it was foggy for others. If someone has a valuable point or inquiry, I will include it in the subsequent chapter along with my response.

Tell me if you think I should continue with this story idea. Those of you already familiar with the BJT world may have an easier time in grasping where the characters are getting their influences, and understanding my explanation (which pales in comparison to Lady Bishop ^_~* [you know that's right]) So speak up! Tell me if I've messed up something or if I need to alter something, I'll do it, I just need to be shown where I've messed up, since I probably won't have noticed if it made it to this stage. If you've already reviewed but noted a discrepancy worthy of notifying me, please check my profile for ways to get in contact with me (or just send me an on-site PM)!

From my heart to yours, I give you the first chapter and Prelude to The Jewels That Freed Them: Sweet Darkness.
~Elisavan Yaslana