I do not own anything you might recognize. All locations and recognizable characters/erata belong to their respective owners (J.K. Rowling & Wizards of the Coast). I make no money off of my stories. Lorathyra is a character I play in a Dungeons & Dragons game run by a friend.

Chapter 1

Lorathyra was confused. One moment she was heading to the village square to celebrate the Harvest Festival and the next she was standing in a strange circular room. There was a large desk in the center, strange items scattered all about on tables and bookcases, and paintings of old men and women in richly appointed robes on almost every inch of exposed wall, most appeared to have fallen asleep while the painting was being done. She could swear she saw one move, but that was probably just her imagination. A stand with a bowl full of ashes with a bar above it stood next to the desk, it looked kind of like a bird perch, but the ashes were confusing.

Suddenly she heard voices coming from the door behind her. She searched for somewhere to hide. She thought about hiding under the desk but that left her no escape route. As small as she was, she could fit in a spot between a bookshelf and a tall cabinet with two doors. She crouched down and pressed her back to the wall hiding as far in the shadows as she could.

"Minerva, the new school year is about to begin and we must be fully prepared. Harry Potter will be coming to Hogwarts this year. From the reports I have gotten from Mrs. Figg; he is a good boy but troubled. I am almost certain he will be sorted into Gryffindor; thereby putting..." The headmaster stopped speaking as he entered his office. Looking around, his half-moon glasses riding low on his crooked nose, he felt more than saw someone. "There is someone here." He pulled his wand out. "SHOW YOURSELF!"

Lorathyra let a small gasp escape, and immediately the man and woman turned in her direction, the woman quickly drawing her wand. The man was old with a silvery beard that reached past his middle and hair to match. He wore a dark green robe that reached the floor. The woman had a stern face; her features were sharp and her look disdainful, her grey hair was swept up into a bun on the back of her head. Her robe was a pretty emerald color.

They had seen her. She was unsure, they were obviously magic users more powerful than her and had wands pointed at her. She put her hands up in front of herself splaying her fingers wide. She shouted in her casting language and fire shot from her hands straight at the two people confronting her. She hoped they weren't injured badly, simply wanting to clear a path to the door and escape.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall turned toward the tiny gasp and McGonagall drew her wand. They could just make out a small figure hiding in the shadows between a bookcase and Dumbledore's Pensieve cabinet. A small but powerful voice shouted in a harsh language and fire rolled out in a semicircle in front of the figure. With reflexes born from surviving the war that ended ten short years ago, they dodged the wave of fire as it engulfed the spot where they had been standing. They regained their feet in time to see a tiny figure darting out the door.

Seeing her path to the door cleared; Lorathyra ran for it. On the other side she found a staircase that spiraled downward. Before she could begin her descent she heard the woman shout "STUPEFY" from behind her and then everything went black.

Albus Dumbledore had seen many a strange thing in his long life, but the creature that darted past him after almost frying him and Minerva with fire from her bare hands had to be one of the strangest. Lithe and quick, she was no taller than a 3 or 4 year old. She had to long blue-black braids that hung to her waist, and a simple dress with a blue skirt that fit her well.

Minerva McGonagall recovered quickly and bolted out after the small figure. She loosed a quick Stupefy charm and in a flash of red light she fell to the ground. Dumbledore joined her next to the inert form.

"Let's get her to the hospital wing. I have no idea how she got into my office. After Madam Pomfrey assures me she is unharmed, we will wake her and find out."

Minerva leaned down and lifted the small form easily; she probably weighed less than most of the textbooks she taught from. Despite the lack of weight McGonagall could feel well-honed muscles under her hands and made another interesting discovery. Hidden in the folds of her simple dress was a blade, in the small girl's hands it would be a dagger, but to McGonagall it was about the size of a dinner knife. She turned to the headmaster, "Albus, do you think you could remove her weapon?"

He released the simple catch, removing it from her belt and held the blade lightly in his hand. "Well, well, I wonder what her intention was with this." He pulled the blade from the sheath and inspected it. The edge was well honed and the craftsmanship was unlike anything he had ever seen. The blade itself was light and looked like silver, Norse runes were inscribed along the handle. He could feel the magic resonating within the metal. "I shall have to bring this to Bathsheda, see if she can make any sense of these runes. Her expertise in runes is beyond measure." He returned the blade to its sheath and placed it in one of his pockets. As a precaution the Headmaster used the Incarcerous charm to bind the child's arms and legs.

-x-x-x-x-

"Poppy?" Albus called as they entered. "I am afraid we have need of your services." The stout Madam Pomfrey was just leaving her office. She wore her normal red dress and white apron. Her curly grey hair was neatly done up under her habit. She carried a book on advanced healing charms, which she quickly placed on the foot of one of the many beds when she heard Dumbledore's voice.

"Oh my, what have we here?" Immediately, Madam Pomfrey turned into the stern Mother-hen type the students so often described her as. She moved quickly over to the Professors.

"We are not entirely sure. She attacked us in my office; though I believe it was more out of fear and self-defense than any malice toward us."

"Place her here. Were either of you harmed?" Madam Pomfrey pointed to a nearby bed and Professor McGonagall gently laid her down. McGonagall gave a slight start when she noticed that there were no shoes on the girl and that her feet had a thin covering of blue-black hair that matched the color of the braids on her head, and that the bottoms of them were heavily calloused. When Professor Dumbledore assured her they were fine Madam Pomfrey turned to her patient and prepared to do what she did best.

Dumbledore transferred the restraints to the bed so she could lay flat, as Madam Pomfrey quickly checked her over for injuries. She listened as McGonagall related the tale of the attack. "Other than the Stupefy she is in perfect health. Shall we wake her and see if we can't get some answers?"

"Yes, let's do that." Dumbledore and McGonagall moved to the foot of the bed as Madam Pomfrey cast a quick spell and the girl's eyes fluttered open. They were the purest violet any of them had ever seen, and as the fog of the charm cleared from them they quickly filled with anger and confusion. She thrashed madly trying to get free of the restraints. As she struggled she shouted things in a language none of them understood but was absolutely foul to their ears. Then suddenly she calmed, lying perfectly still. Professor McGonagall saw something in the girl's eyes then, as if the child had seen things no child should.

"I apologize for my actions. Could you please tell me where I am?" She spoke with refinement but there was an edge in her tone that betrayed her still seething anger. They could not place her accent, it had a lilt to it that seemed like French but at the same time was harsh as the Scottish. Her voice itself was like her; tiny but held a deceiving power.

"You are in the Hospital wing at Hogwarts. How did you get into my office?" Dumbledore watched as the girl looked around and seemed to assess them and take stock of her surroundings. She quickly took in the two rows of beds along the walls, the high arched ceiling, and the three of them within seconds.

"Hogwarts? What's that? Is it one of the many mansions within Waterdeep?"

"Hogwarts is the School for Witchcraft and Wizardry here in England. I am the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore; this is Professor Minerva McGonagall and Madam Poppy Pomfrey our Matron and healer. If I may, who are you, and how did you get into my office?"

"I am Lorathyra Brushrange, ward of Maximillian Sanders, Student of Thaddeous Spellbinder in the city of Waterdeep. I hale from the village of Oakhurst in the northern mountains of Greyhawk. I have no idea how I got here. One moment I was heading to the Harvest Festival and the next I was in, I guess it was your office. Where in Greyhawk is England?"

-x-x-x-x-

Maximillian Sanders was enjoying his day; today was a day of celebration. However, he was always prepared for an attack, so he wore his darkened leather armor, which molded around the toned muscles of his body, and had his heavy mace at his hip. His dark brown hair, which fell just past his shoulders, was kept back with a dark leather strap revealing his strong features and his predatory white eyes. As he walked he scratched at the ever present whiskers on his chin. Lorathyra found it funny that, even when he shaved, the itchy whiskers were back well before supper.

He and Lorathyra, his ward, would be presenting the crown to the Harvest Festival Queen. It was a silly tradition; a crown of flowers placed on the head of the prettiest girl in the village, but it brought joy to the hearts of the villagers. The village square had been decorated with garlands of red, orange, yellow, green, and brown. Large bowls and baskets of fruits and vegetables were scattered about. Children chased each other playing tag or had mock battles with wooden swords. The older ones stood in groups of three or four gossiping about this and that. Oakhurst had a good mix of the races and all got along well. The adults were bustling about finishing up last minute preparations for the celebration.

Lanterns had been placed all around and strung from building to building. The dance this evening would be beautiful. Lora was running a little late, she was so obsessive when it came to braiding her hair, often twisting it into complicated loops and knots that always ended up looking stunning. It seemed to be a Halfling thing, as many of the others in the village did the same thing, so, he had gone ahead and told her to meet him at the square.

He walked across the square toward the tavern and many peddlers who had set up shop; he wanted to buy Lora something as a surprise reward for her success in the trials to become Master Spellbinder's newest apprentice. He heard a loud and frantic cawing causing him to look to the skies. Relanwi, Lora's raven familiar, was flying in tight circles over the village, her black feathers gleaming in the sunlight. The bird seemed to be searching and lost at the same time. Quickly he raced back to his home, certain that Lora was in danger.

When he reached the path leading up to the house he felt some strange power residue. He was no wizard but he had been around enough magic to know what truly powerful magic felt like. He ran on calling "Lora! Lorathyra, where are you?" The eldritch energies that ran in his blood began gathering around his hands and he drew his mace, the energies quickly extending down its haft and encasing the head in what appeared to be purple fire. He was fully prepared to kill whatever was threatening the girl he had come to think of as his daughter.

When he got to their home, everything was eerily quiet, like all the sounds in the world had been silenced. A soft breeze blew a few golden and red leaves across the browning grass in front of the house. All the windows were dark and the door was closed tight.

A single caw sounded behind him. He slowly turned, searching for any sign of movement. Then his eyes shot to the sky and he watched in horror as Lorathyra's raven fell to the ground seemingly lifeless.