AUTHOR'S NOTE: this started as just a little side story to tide you all up, until I find the time and inspiration to continue with "We Survive What We Can't Change", but, and although WSWWCC is not on Hiatus in any shape or form (I still write a bit whenever I find the time), I'm afraid, I find it very hard to get any work done in any of my stories these days, that with my last year at University and being currently on Erasmus in Scotland.

Oh! And if you would like to see what a modern Hogwarts looks like, please go check Glasgow University, on Google. And behold the awesomeness I'm currently studying at!

A Tale of Magic

a HP "fairy" tale

CHAPTER 1 in which our characters appear

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a king and a queen who had but one great sorrow:

They had reached an advanced age (which back in those days was not that advanced really, just around their thirties) and lacked a child of their own.

They were happy and so were their people, but the entire kingdom wished for that particular kind of happiness to befall upon their regents.

They also feared when the day would come, in which their king would die with no heir to the throne, and what would then, happen to the kingdom.

But they had nothing to fear, for in the 14th of September of the year of the dragon, the king and queen were blessed with the birth of a child.

As it happens Lady Luck was not yet trough with them, for it was a boy, an heir to the throne. The people of the land feasted and happily celebrated the birth of the new born, the future ruler of the kingdom.

And imagine everyone's happy surprise when not even a year later, the queen was pregnant again! Oh, what a happy and joyful occasion, for the nobles and the common folk of the kingdom, for the beaming, if exhausted mother, and maybe most of all, for the proud father of now, not just one, but two beautiful baby boys.

But I get ahead of myself, for this is not the beginning of our story…

In fact, this story began long before the birth of these fated children. I even dare to say it began before the birth of their parents, for truly it began, with the birth of their Kingdom.

You see, this kingdom was one of the four great kingdoms, which divided the magical land of Hogwarts.

The Land of Hogwarts was quite a large scope of Land, and reached from the dark mountains of the North, until the Dead Sea. This Land had a rather fascinating story, but we will skip that, for I do not wish to bore you more than what is strictly necessary.

Besides, the story doesn't start here either. I think I should start with the appearance of the very first characters to set in motion the chain of serendipitous events that led to this story.

So, this beautiful, rich and truly unique Land of Hogwarts, had once been arid, neglected and forsaken by all, until the arrival of two witches.

These witches had been banned from their home, after a strange disease had fallen upon the population, the source of the disease was indistinguishable, and so people blamed witches, as it often happened in those days.

And the witches, who in all honesty, were quite tired of always being blamed for all the wrongs of the world, decided to comply with the peoples' wishes and left their home, they travelled for quite a while and every time they passed through a Land they tried to settle down.

Sometimes they would try to go incognito, but this rarely worked, for two women, alone and unmarried was already uncommon, add to that their youthful appearance and the fact that their only source of sustenance, involved dwelling in potions and plants, and they were easily labeled as witches every time.

No one even needed to know they owned a ridiculous large amount of old books, even though the ability to read was still quite rare, or that they enjoyed the company of strange people and even stranger creatures, to succinctly blame them for whatever misdeed or crime they felt like, and that would eventually get them kicked out of the Land.

Some other times, they would go to speak with the rulers of whatever the Land was they were passing by. The two women would then, offer their services, but even though some accepted for a while, eventually, whenever the first drop of misfortune fell, who did everyone blame?

The witches, of course.

Finally, our two mysterious ladies, bringers of misfortune or not, arrived upon a port, by the great Death Sea.

This place, founded not so long ago by Hengist of Woodcroft, was named Hogsmeade.

It was a small village, of thatched cottages and shops for it survived on trade and shipping cargoes, its people neither rich nor poor, had mostly came to this place in quite the same way as our two Ladies, by fruit of chance and of being scorned and rejected by the other surrounding Lands.

Upon their arrival, the witches felt right at home. Everyone was as much of an outcast as they were. Even the founder of the village had first been driven to this particular location by being persecuted!

Finding the origins of their new neighborhood an amusing yet reassuring coincidence, our protagonists the two witches, swiftly established themselves in appropriate accommodations, and started their own business, doing that which is fitting for witches to do. That is, to sell strange potions and plants, to trade in old manuscripts and battered books, and to solve all matters of little unfortunate problems of their neighbors or really of anyone who might come pound at their door.

'Cause that's what witches do, and one learns to deal, with the luck one's dealt.

Their adventure began in a cold, blustery night, when Ambrosia Flume, a young widow who lived in the ratted house across the street, came knocking on their front door.

"…You go…" said one sleepy woman with curly black hair pecking from out of her yellow night cap.

"No, you go…" answered the other woman from a nearby bed; this one had long brown hair wrapped up in a perfectly neat braid.

"Nhum,nhum, I said first, Enna." replied the first woman, while covering her head with the pillow.

"Urr, fine!" snapped the woman named Rowena, 'Enna' for short, sitting on the bed and looking on the direction of the window. "Is it even dawn yet?"

At a more insistent knock on the door, she swiftly got out of bed and draping a dark blue mantle over her night gown, she hurried to answer the door.

"Going, going already!" she picked a candle stick and lightened it on her way to the door, when she pushed the door open she saw a small, roundish woman, probably on her late twenties, who stood without a cloak and with windblown dirty blond hair, on the doorway. She seemed to be carrying a large bundle of cloth in her arms.

"You must help me!" she said in a small, roughened voice.

"Actually, the only thing I must do, at this Gods forsaken hour, is sleep." Said Rowena rolling her eyes, this 'must-help' deals where common occurrence for the witch and so, she was already quite used to the usual dramatics.

"Please" whispered the woman, opening her arms to show what was covered by the cloths, a tiny toddler, that was so white and quiet, it appeared to not be breathing at all.

"Come on in," Rowena said, instructing the woman into the living room area. Carefully keeping eye contact with the distressed mother of the child, she put her fingers against the boy's neck, and feeling a heartbeat, she worried to the bottom of the stairs and yelled, "Wake up Helga, soon to be dead-baby on the to-do-list for today!"

CHAPTER 2 in which our characters do some helping

"You are Mrs. Flume, the widow, from down the street." Stated Rowena, while lighting the fireplace.

"Hum, yes?.." replied Mrs. Flume, although Rowena's words appeared more of a statement than an actual question.

Helga smiled, it always was like that with Rowena, she had a gift for knowing things, just any king of ordinary things really, but they often proved to be extremely helpful little pieces of knowledge. Rowena considered it her own kind of 'magic', this ability, not just of knowing things, but of knowing things other people didn't know.

Helga hurried to the kitchen area and carefully started grabbing some bottles, herbs and a pot.

"Can you help me?" continued Mrs. Flume, huge brown eyes wide with unshed tears.

"That depends on what happened." Started Helga, examining the boy.

"I don't know! I was asleep and it was awfully quiet when I woke up, so I went to check on Ned and he was like this! I couldn't wake him up and I didn't know what to do! So I remembered Mrs. Runcorn saying she bought some medicine for her cough here, so I…"

"You thought we might be of help," said Helga with a soft smile, already adding strange ingredients to a huge pot in the oven.

Rowena sneered by the fireplace "more likely she wanted someone to blame for her dead son."

The woman holding the toddler gave an involuntary jump in the couch and clutched her son closer to her chest.

"Don't be mean Enna." Admonished Helga, pot already stemming in the oven.

"Whatever… are you done with that yet?" Rowena approached the woman and grabbed the body of the toddler from her unresisting arms. She then carried it to Helga, who was violently stirring the contents of the pot.

She then took a small wooden cup and put in it some of the liquid content of the pot.

The 'potion', had a dark brown color, and a thick, buttery look. Helga blew on the liquid and while Rowena held the toddler, she feed him the 'potion'.

Slowly, color began to appear on the boy's face and he began shivering violently.

Rowena grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around the boy returned him to his mother. The woman took him immediately,

"He should be fine now, the shivering will stop soon enough." Helga said.

"What? …How?"

Rowena sneered, "They never say thank you, but they always ask how. I swear we could bring a man back from the dead and the first thing he would say would be 'how?'."

"Oh, thee of little faith," said Helga giggling.

"No, seriously, they all ask how, as if it matters, but in reality, no one ever says, 'Oh no! You used potions made with the blood of a recently slaughtered newborn, and herbs from the Devil himself! No, no, you must go back and kill me again!'."

"I… I'm sorry…" began Mrs. Flume stuttering, "is th… that… blood?"

Helga started laughing out loud.

Then she picked the cup and sniffing it said, "This?" At the woman's answering nod, she drank a large gulp and while the woman gasped horrified she passed the cup to Rowena, who took a small sip, before saying to Helga,

"You always put too much diabolical herbs."

"We better stop, she doesn't seem so well," said Helga looking concerned.

By now the woman was hyperventilating.

"Can't take a joke." Said Rowena with a shrug, "I'm going to try and get some more sleep, escort her out, will you?"

Helga nodded and Rowena climbed the stairs. Helga then sat on the couch near the woman, who was still looking nastily at the cup in her hand.

"Look, it's all right, we were only kidding, it's not really blood, it isn't wicked at all," Then she paused "well, it's kind of wicked, but not malevolent or anything!" She hurried to reassure the woman.

"Actually, it's only hot chocolate; I like to call it fudge."

CHAPTER 3 in which we learn more about our characters

Helga had her own kind of 'magic', her own special ability, as special and useful or even more so, than Rowena's.

She had 'people magic'. People wanted to be near her, she enjoyed surrounding herself with love, joy and light. She always made sure she projected an aura of peace, honesty and hard work. But most of all of happiness.

She spread positive energy all around, and made sure to be surrounded by positive vibes at all times. Actually, Rowena was the only remotely negative force in her life, and yes, Rowena had a temper, was quite cynic, and was often downright mean or even cruel to others but she always saw a solution for everything and she never let herself wallow in self-pity. Besides, Helga truly believed that deep, deep down, she enjoyed doing good and helping people… well, maybe really deep down.

Helga was also an active woman, and she truly enjoyed working, especially with people, either helping them or just interacting with them. Those were precisely the reasons why, it was mostly she who did all of their public interaction, they needed money to survive after all, so from their garden, (which Helga planted from scratch in every new village they settled in), they sold plants, oils, salves, potions, even such simple things as soaps.

And they made quite a bit of money from that, although they lived very humbly and without any great luxuries, except of course, Rowena's books.

Helga's only great expenses, were in paper, ink and quills, she loved to write on her free time, almost as much as she enjoyed taking care of her precious plants, and Rowena loved to read and find odd uses for said plants, so they were quite well matched.

Anyways, this explains why she was alone, taking care of their little shop, and writing drabbles in some paper scraps, when Mrs. Flume came in, several weeks after the fatidic night described previously .

Mrs. Flume had greatly changed from her first night call on the witches' residence.

Indeed, she looked happier and livelier than ever, and she was slowly but surely coming out of the deep dark colors she wore in grieving for her late husband. She had also begun a small enterprise of her own, with a little financial help from our leading ladies.

Since her first taste of the hot chocolate fudge made by Helga, she had began a healthy and visible (by her new body structure) relationship of deep love with chocolate and really all kinds of candy and sweets. Helga herself adored sweets too, and knew how to make quite a few, so, and out of the goodness of her heart, she taught Mrs. Flume how to cook them. And amazingly enough, Mrs. Flume proved to be quite talented at the cooking of sweets and even more so at the creation of new sweets! It didn't take long before she began selling them on the square, using wisely the money she made, to pay the 'witches' back for their investment of the pots, pans, and oven, and on the ingredients for the making of her sweets. But also, buying warmer clothing for herself and her son and fixing up their house, which she was even thinking of turning into a store.

Generosity is a gift few people seem to appreciate. Luckily, Mrs. Flume didn't appear to be one of those ingrate individuals and so she had bounded quite readily with Helga, always stopping by from some friendly conversation or to bring her the latest news, the little pieces of village gossip, which was precisely what she was doing now.

Apparently, Percival of Woodcroft, a direct descendent of Hengist of Woodcroft, and consequently the current Ruler of the village, had been involved in some 'helping-others' venture of his own.

And as everyone knows, no good deed goes unpunished.

The neighboring Lands had been affect by all kinds of strange diseases and misfortunes, in the course of the past two years, (by pure coincidence, these happened to be the Lands the witches had passed by), and the people living there were passing through great difficulties, they lacked food and other supplies needed for them to survive, this miserable past years.

Well, remember when I said Hogsmeade lived on trade and commerce? Now, the other Lands could not afford to buy anything, which was killing the export business, and the products were going to waste. So, Percival, decided toassemble his advisors, and after some discussion declared they would give the products on loan, to the neighboring Lands.

Good deed done. Punishment time.

The Lands recovered and then, decided to repay the ruler of Hogsmeade, for his kind and wise rule, by offering him a parcel of Land. Quite a large parcel of Land in fact.

This was "no-man's land" which mostly meant that, it was too arid and barren to be of any actual use to anyone.

The rule with "no-man's" Land is simple. You have to live in it. Really, it's that simple.

If no one claims the Land then you can claim it by occupying it. So far no one had dared lay a claim on this portion of Land exactly because of its dimension, and lack of utility, of course.

The news Mrs. Flume had to tell Helga, were that Percival, having no wish to leave Hogsmead, and finding no way, to either occupy the Land, or deny the 'gift' of his neighbors, had gathered together all his advisors to find a solution to this problem,

"In the matter of Good Deeds Going Wrong, Undesired Gifts, Scheming Back-Stabbing Neighbors and suchlike," they told him, "one should announce a great contest and allow for common folk and the noblest and most rich court members alike, to attempt some Strange Yet Oddly Simple Task and seize the Amazing Almost Too Good To Be True Reward."

So he decided to organize a challenge, a tournament of sorts.

To the winner, the Land.

And together with the Land, also a considerable reward in gold, supposedly to help the winner arrange for himself, the necessary conditions for the occupation of the Land.

In the end, it was of course, an investment; the Land would if properly occupied provide more chances for commerce.

And the means to win such an extraordinary price were simple indeed.

To win a story telling contest. A strange theme for a tournament, perhaps, but quite wise, if one cares to think on it.

It was Percival's belief that great men, have the best stories… or they could definitely afford to buy the best story from the best wandering bards.

Or on a last case they could simply tell their own life story, anyone could in fact, for Percival was quite desperate to get himself rid of this 'gift' from his conniving neighbors, and so the entry fee was considerably low (which means it was high but still accessible to pretty much anyone who really wished to compete with their own story).

Besides all the money from the entry fees would go to the public vault (aka: Percival's vault) which would only enrich the village (aka: Percival).

Oh! It was indeed a rich price for the lucky winner… Land and Gold, the two greatest possessions of the time.

"Yep, but everyone knows, those contests are always fixed from the start… no common folk is gonna win, that's for sure."

"Of course, that matters not! The really big deal is the notoriety factor!"

"Hum?"

"Your manuscripts, Helga! You can sell them! You are always complaining, regular folk don' know how to read, so only rich people buy books and they only buy from reference from other rich people."

"It's a vicious circle." Said Helga, with a sight.

"Well, here's your chance to break it, lot's of 'em rich folks, will be coming to see the Competition, from all villages really, and it's a story telling competition, if you take part in it, you can get the rich people to notice your tales!"

"And they will buy my books! Oh, that's wonderful!"

"Yes, I thought, it was a good idea." Said Mrs. Flume beaming "the contest will be held during the next solstice, in a week's time, and it will last from sundown to sunrise."

"But the entry fee is not exactly cheap, feasible true, but it's a big expense for a regular household, ten gold pieces…"

Mrs. Flume continued to chat away, about how great it would be, but Helga heard none of it.

"What?" Helga screamed in her head, then she immediately started counting in her head, she was by nature a person who didn't spend much money, and she run hers and Rowena's little household, so she had the final voice in their living expenses, in whatever they spend their money in.

It was a lot of money for just one night; ten gold pieces would support them for months. They had them, yes, but they had that gold now, who knew what would happen in the future? What if they had to move and search for a new home again? That gold would be sorely needed then.

She thanked Mrs. Flume, wished her well with her new business, and told her she would think about the contest, but her mind was already made.

She could not bring herself to take such a risk. Their future was uncertain, they had managed to survive so far, but mostly because she had saved money, every time they had to rebuild their lives in a new Land, she had taken that money and used it, but she had taken it, because she had it!

If she spend it now on something frivolous… yes that was the problem was it not? That she was spending it on herself, on something she wanted, and she never did that. Never. They were a team, Rowena and her, and they worked well as a team, as a family. She had to do what was best for the team, to take care of her family.

So, she took care of the shop, and she made dinner and she talked with Rowena, like there was nothing on her mind, weighting.

"Great dinner, as always, Helga." Said Rowena, gathering the dishes.

She set them in the sink, "Ah, I almost forgot, did by any chance, Mrs. Flume come see you today?"

"…Yes."

"Then, I'm sure she told you all about the interesting competition that is going to be held a week from now?..."

"…Yes."

"Ah, an entire night, devotedly dedicated to storytelling, what a wonderful prize, just to be a part of that."

"…Yes… are you going somewhere with this, Enna?"

"Why, yes! I thought I would inform you, that I'm most interested in taking part in this competition," Helga rose from her seat at the table, but Rowena continued "and I have already paid the entry fee."

"Rowena..."

"Oh, and I also took the time to pay your entry fee as well."

"Rowena!"

"Yes, that is my name, and I have perfect hearing so you can say it a little lower." Rowena said with a smirk. "Now, thank me and do the dishes, you know how I hate doing these menial tasks."

"But Enna, we can't afford it, we can't spend all that money."

"Excuse me? You, I don't know, but I not only can, but will spend my hard earned money, however I want."

"But Enna, we can't!"

"I know, stop repeating yourself, it's most unladylike." Helga rolled her eyes, but Rowena continued "You want to go."

"But!..."

"It was not a question; I know you want to go. And I know you. So I know you will never let yourself simply go, so just… forget the savings for a while, if things get too rough, and we have to move again, well, I can always sell one of my books," Helga gasped, "It's not a big deal, we have always managed, and don't think I don't know it's because of you… let it be because of me too. For this once, do what you want, and not what you should. Trust me; have I ever led you astray?"

Helga blushed, Rowena smiled, a true smile, one she kept only for Helga, and Helga remembered anew, exactly why, she had first began living with Rowena, after her parents tragic death in a shipwreck, and after Rowena was disowned by her only living relative, her greedy uncle. Scumbag that he is.

Yes she remembered quite well the how and most importantly, the why she had first began living and then travelling with Rowena.

She did all the domestic work, well, all the work, now that she thought about it, and she managed the finances in their little household, but Rowena… Rowena appreciated it, appreciated her.

And she liked Rowena… In a purely platonic way! Yes, completely platonic, in a friendly, sociable way, like a sister, really. Even when Rowena smiled at her like that...

…Especially when Rowena smiled at her like that. Really!

While Helga thought, Rowena had continued. "You haven't had any entertainment for a while, this will be good for you, so you can loosen up a bit, you work too much, all work and no fun, makes Helga a dull girl. Go to your little night out, listen to some stories, tell one of your tales and have a pleasant night. You deserve it."

"And you?"

"I'm going with you, of course! Have to keep an eye out for you. Make sure you don't meet Prince Charming and run off to some fairytale castle. Then you would end up having people cooking for you, and washing your dishes; you would have more dresses that you ever could wear and get invited to all those fancy balls. Thss! And of course you would spend all your time doing nothing but devise bed-time stories for your babies, only think how truly boring your life would be!"

"Yes, a destiny worse than death, beyond doubt… how truly, kind of you to accompany me, " Helga began.

"Yep, you should thank me." Said Rowena crossing her arms across her chest and looking rather smug.

"I would, if I didn't know you're only doing to save your own skin, you would starve without me."

"Yey, I can cook!" said Rowena in indignation.

"You can? Since when? Why, I learn a new thing about you every day!" Helga smirked.

"You little… brat!" said Rowena as she stormed up the stairs.

...

Author's note: Ok, what did you thought? hum? too bad? it's just the begining and I have a lot planned out, but really it was just something I wrote when I was bored in class.

See you next chapter or should I say the next 3 chapters?

Also, I had to set the mood, righ? You can't just begin telling tales out of nowhere! This is how the Founders come in!

This way during the competition I can tell all the tales, the next 3 chapters are the first tale,

"A Tale Of Two Princes" and yes, it's a HPTR. Although there are many side pairings.

Also the rating may go up on that tale, and if it doesn't, it definitly will on a couple of others, that I have written for later chapters...