Disclaimer: I do not own any members of the Weasley & the Malfoy clans. JK Rowling does and I am not she. The basic plot of this story was inspired by a certain myth. Ten points to Gryffindor (or the house of your choosing) if you can guess which one it is. J
Note: The manner in which I wrote the story was slightly unusual. There are two intertwining stories—the italicized parts of the story are a continuation of this fic after the last "normal" font ends. I'm not trying to be confusing—but if you want to read it in a regular, chronological fashion, read all of the "normal" parts first, scroll back to the beginning, and read the italicized parts. I don't recommend it—but if you're confused, give it a try.
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At First Sight
She had never explored the mountains to the east of her village, adventurous and daring though she was. Virginia Weasley, youngest daughter of seven children, had often been told horrific stories of the dangerous beast who dwelled within the mountains' ominous peaks.
She opened her eyes and was greeted by blackness. She was blind. No one would have any reason to attack her, as she was carrying nothing of value, only searching for her brother, her brother Charlie, whom she had not seen for half a year.
Her two older brothers, Fred and George, were especially fond of relating stories about "long-fanged monsters with gaping jaws who devoured their prey in one sweeping gulp," whereas her brother Ron would speak of "gigantic spiders whose poisonous venom killed within seconds."
Hoping that she would not be killed within seconds, Virginia asked uncertainly, "What do you want of me?" There was no response, but Virginia could hear His breathing.
So no one knew if a monster lived within the mountain range, or even if such a demon existed.
"What do you want of me?" Still no response. "Monster!" She hurled the word at Him, and waited for an angry response. There was none. Footsteps away, and then a brief fluttering of wings.
Virginia thought not, as the rate of blood-curdling screams had been extremely low over the past nineteen years of her existence. But there was always the possibility, always the hidden potential within the mountains that thrilled Virginia whenever she thought about it.
She had been thrilled to discover that He knew of Charlie (a slip of the tongue on His part), but He was ominously silent on Charlie's ultimate fate.
Anything could be hiding within the mountains.
Why could he never tell her anything? Why did he take away her sight? She had promised repeatedly not to endanger His safety, not to reveal His presence—she would allow Him a continued existence as a recluse, a figure of village mythology.
And it was for that reason that Virginia Weasley, youngest daughter of seven children, avoided it for nineteen years.
"You can't be more than sixteen," He drawled amusedly, right next to her ear—but then, she wouldn't know, she couldn't see Him…
She had no unnatural desire to be consumed, and had a great desire to live, so avoiding the blood-sucking creature within the mountains seemed the surest way to guarantee survival.
"I'm nineteen, actually," she said forcefully, spitting the words at Him. He had thought that she was a boy—another foolish adventurer like her brother—until her hat fell, unleashing a bright mass of red curls.
And for nineteen years, Virginia did.
Virginia remembered staying huddled in the corner of the cave, before He took her by the hand and led her to the private sanctum of the cave. It wasn't a friendly gesture, but rather, a protective one—there was no way that a sightless Virginia could escape the cave—rather, His labyrinth. And in the center of the labyrinth, the beast lurked… that was the manner in which the stories passed…
The Weasleys were not a rich family. They had never had a large fortune to cover the expenses that seven children incurred, and were thus very often in debt. It became necessary, from time to time, for Arthur Weasley to venture out of their secluded village and travel to the nearest town or city to the west of their own, in hopes of selling merchandise that was unwanted in their own somewhat self-sufficient village. However, this was a journey of several hundred miles, and required great endurance of the intrepid pilgrim. Arthur Weasley undertook this errand for the entire duration of his life, which ended when Virginia was nineteen. It then became necessary for another Weasley son to take up his father's burdens, and Charlie Weasley was just that son.
Virginia spent most of her days inside the cave alone. It was a monotonous existence, but she filled it with premises and suppositions. Where was Charlie? Did He know where her brother was?
So the winter of Virginia's nineteenth birthday, Charlie Weasley told his family that he would, like his father, travel west to a cluster of towns for the sole purpose of selling a few homemade items made by Molly and Ginny, and part of the crops harvested by the six Weasley brothers.
She began to talk to Him when he visited her at night. "Tell me about yourself," He asked, and it was a question, not a command.
And she began to speak. He was a sincere listener—she could tell by the contemplative silence that remained in the air after she had finished.
It was a journey that should have taken no longer than two months, at most. After three months, the family began to worry about Charlie's safety. After four months, they doubted for his life. And after five months, when her family was near poverty, Virginia Weasley ventured out into the world to seek her brother and her fortune alike.
"You should thank Charlie for my continued existence here," she joked with Him one night, for by this time, they were friends—of a sort. "If I had not come looking for him, I would still be safe at home, kept out of harm's way by fairy tales for children…" He maintained a persistent, uneasy silence.
Virginia Weasley was no fool. Although she was certain that her brother had known the dangers of traveling eastward, she was fairly confident that he had hoped to brave them and survive them, in hopes of encountering a new town to which he could be the sole provider. It made sense to Virginia. The profits would be greater and the chances of the existence of such a village were within the bounds of reason.
"Can you at least tell me if he arrived home safely?" Virginia asked angrily one night. "I just want to know if he's still alive!"
Charlie Weasley had no sense of self-preservation. Virginia was sure that Charlie had traveled east, and so she followed in his footsteps.
"Your brother is dead," He said calmly, the words escaping through his clenched teeth. And even though Virginia was blind, she could tell that He too was crying…
She had only told her family that she was going after Charlie. With her long red curls gathered under her hat, she could have passed for Percy or Ron, who were both as tall and as slender as she. There would be nothing suspicious about a young man her age traveling the roads in search of his brother, and that was the story that Virginia planned to tell.
Charlie. She could not believe it. Of all her foolish brothers… the most foolhardy of all. Always fighting imaginary windmills—battling imaginary dragons…
So, with red hair under hat, brown eyes set in determination, and a grim smile on her face, Virginia ventured eastward to seek out her foolish older brother Charlie.
She lost consciousness. There was no longer any point in trying to stay well, stay alive, for Charlie's sake, because he was dead. And there was no possibility that she would emerge alive from this …den… either. She remained imprisoned within two labyrinths—one of His, and one of her own construction.
The mountain range was only a short walk from Virginia's house-- a mere four day's journey at most.
She awoke, unaware of what day it was, whether it was night or day—and doubted her own existence—and His as well. It was four days after she awoke before she heard His voice again.
Eyeing the mountains speculatively, Virginia reasoned that, weather and God willing, she could most probably reach the peak of the smallest mountain within eight days, and reach the village on the other side in the ten days following.
A fluttering of wings.
"Virginia?" She heard His voice, low and husky, robbed of its usual fire, next to her head, but she was too tired to turn towards Him.
"Yes?" She answered wearily…
"I'm sorry."
Virginia was lucky. The mountains did not prove to be as rough a climb as she had expected. Walking was the most laborious part of the entire journey, and Virginia spent a great part of it scrambling over whitish grey boulders and trying to keep a straight path upwards while being hindered by trees.
She was silent about Charlie. "So," she said brightly, in an attempt to sound jocular, "Tell me about yourself."
There were no animals on the mountain, which struck Virginia as slightly ominous. Perhaps there was a formidable monster creeping about in the mountains after all...
"Are you the terrible monster that dwells within the mountains?" she asked teasingly.
She was surprised to hear a silence.
... but, for the next eighteen days, Virginia saw neither bones nor heard bloodcurdling screams, and reached the village (that did indeed lay on the other side of the mountain) intact.
"I'm not sure. I might be."
In the village, Virginia learned that a tall, red-haired man with goods similar to Charlie's had in fact visited the village almost half a year ago. Strangers remembered the pleasant face and good-willed young man, as they did not receive many visitors from the other side of the mountain.
"What makes you unsure?" she asked carefully, keeping her voice as regular as she could make it.
And the question most on her mind remained unasked…
They expressed concern that he might have been waylaid by thieves, as he was carrying a generous amount of money on his person.
"Well…" He sounded unsure, hesitant—vastly different from His normally brashly confident tone. It was as if something hidden had been lingering beneath the surface of His voice, waiting to claw its way out…
"I suppose I am, actually."
Virginia left the village with a heavy heart, almost certain that Charlie was dead, and began her journey home within the next few days.
Later. A fluttering of wings.
"You killed him." Her voice was flat and completely void of emotion. It was not an accusation. It was a statement.
She did not arrive home within the next few days.
"Yes." His voice was husky, barely audible. "He came upon me while I was… not myself. I had no other choice at the time. Believe me, there was no way out. There is no way out."
One night, it began raining, hard, pounding drops that bore into Virginia's skin painfully. Quickly, Virginia looked around for possible shelter—and saw nothing but a small cave in the shadowy distance.
"Murderer." Turning away from the sound of His voice, Virginia curled up into a tight, tense ball, and wished she could disappear. Away from Him—but she couldn't bear that either…
Running as fast as she could, Virginia arrived at the cave relieved that she had escaped a generous portion of the torrential downpour which she now witnessed from the safety of the cave. Sighing softly, she walked slowly to a boulder resting in the corner, and sat down, having decided to wait the storm out.
"I'm so sorry. So terribly sorry. I never meant to, do you understand? I never meant to touch him." Grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently in an attempt to make her speak. She could feel His rising exasperation and guilt alike…
She would wait much longer than that.
She maintained her stubborn silence. She would make Him wait much longer than that.
"Please don't do this. I can't bear to see you like this—I believed he was spying on me—I swear. Please—Virginia?"
Lounging in the corner of the cave, her head resting on her shoulders, her eyes partly closed, Virginia never saw the young man's face before he approached her.
"Virginia?" Virginia did not respond to the sound of His voice. Sighing, He walked over to her, raised her to her feet, put a guiding arm around her shoulder, and led her outside the cave.
"Do you see?" His voice was eager.
Before she could scramble out of the cave, he cast a simple spell, and Virginia saw nothing else.
And then she saw it—and knew it was not an it, it was Him. Before her eyes was a full-grown dragon.
And then he shrunk, diminishing to a sharp-eyed young man—the sunlight shone on his ash-blond hair, and he looked directly into her eyes.
"Do you see? Virginia?" He paused, swallowed hesitantly, and moved towards her, holding one hand out in an unconscious gesture of entreaty. "I love you."
Virginia smiled.
THE END
A/N: Hated it? Tolerated it? Loved it? Tell me about it by reviewing. I promise to be appropriately grateful.
