For the Quidditch Cup on HPFC; I'm a part of the Falmouth Falcons.
Founders Era
Scar, tempted, glass
Tragedy, friendship or adventure
600 word minimum
A/N: I did a slight bit of research, but I know I messed a few things up when it came to the time period.
"Helena? Would you please speak to me?" the Baron pleaded with the woman he loved as she sat on the side of a well with one of her friends.
"Baron, I do not return your feelings and it would please me if you stop pestering me." Helena Ravenclaw said as she denied her admirer again while her friend giggled.
"Will you not allow me to court you? To try and win you over?" the Baron tried again.
"No, I will not allow you to court me. You represent a man I would be least likely to marry, a man I highly detest. Good day to you." Helena said as she strode off, her friend sending him a dirty look over her shoulder.
"Helena! I will make you love me!" He yelled at her retreating form.
As the Baron took another sip of wine imported from France, he stared into his nearly empty glass. Earlier that day, he had gone into Hogsmeade Village to purchase a gift for Helena Ravenclaw when he was informed of her fight with her mother before she fled the country.
She was gone! All he had wanted was her. He had been tempted by her beauty and had fallen in love with her intelligence. She consumed all his thoughts and now she was gone. The more he thought about how she ran away the angrier he got. Just a couple weeks ago she had turned him away coldly. As he thought of her last rejection he threw his glass across the room where it shattered against the wall.
Glass was spread throughout the room as the wine dripped down the wall like old blood. He stared at it until he heard the pounding of feet outside his room. He opened the door to find his butler and a guard.
"Lord? We heard a loud noise and thought you might be in trouble." The guard explained.
"There was no need for you to come running; I am fine, I just had an accident involving my wine. If you could pick it up." The Baron ordered as he left the manor to go for ride.
He had his horse saddled before he took off into the woods. He had been riding for a considerable amount of time before the woods finally began to clear out and he found himself at the Black Lake. He had wanted to be alone, but he saw the familiar silhouette of Rowena Ravenclaw on the shore nearby.
He nudged his stallion closer before dismounting and going to her side.
"I am sorry to hear of Helena…" he announced his presence.
"Baron…" she acknowledged him before wiping her face on her handkerchief.
"Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?" He asked as he knelt next to the formidable woman.
"Bring her home… Baron, I know just how much you love her, so please bring her home to me. I have fallen ill and the mediwitch does not know what ails me. I will convince her to at least consider you if you were to bring her to me. Please…" Ravenclaw begged.
"Do you know where she fled to?" he asked.
"She said she was taking a ship, that she would travel the Muggle way… She might be headed for France, but from there, I do not know."
"I will find her and I will bring her back to you… Stay strong enough to see her one more time." The Baron said before he road back into town.
The Baron had been on the road for several weeks with no sign of Helena. He had followed her to France, but had lost her as she traveled with a group of gypsies. He was just passing through Florence when he heard a young group of boys describing a pale, harsh, yet beautiful woman. He wouldn't have stopped, but they described a crown like head piece that sounded like the diadem her famous mother had created.
He guided his horse over to them, threw them a couple Florentines, and asked, "This woman that you speak of, did she carry a thin wood rod?"
"Yes, yes, sir. She pointed it at the man who runs the bakery not a week ago." The eldest boy answered.
"The one just over there?" he asked as he pointed to a shop just down the road. The boy nodded his head before chasing after one of his friends.
As he guided his horse through the throngs of people clogging the streets, he was reminded of home, of London. There were sellers yelling in different languages from their carts and storefronts, trying to get you to stop and peruse their wares. He finally reached the bakery, tied his stallion outside and entered the shop.
"Hello?" He called into the nearly silent store.
"Welcome, welcome!" greeted a plump man from the doorway into the back.
"I have a question for you, regarding a young woman who was here a week ago. She may have threatened you with her wand…" the Baron left his question open-ended.
"Wand?! You speak of witchcraft!" the man said as fear graced his face.
"Speak of it? I am it. Tell me, what did she say to you that she needed her wand for?" he asked as he crept closer to the baker.
"She was asking after a wizard that used to live here… I do not know his name, but I know where he went! Two years past, he left for the forests of Albania. Now leave, please." The baker begged as another customer walked in.
"Thank you," the Baron said as he tipped his hat and left.
The Baron had been traveling for the past two weeks to reach Albania and he had finally arrived. He was told that when the forests changed from green to black and grey, he would know he had reached the border. As it was, the trees he was passing through had a sickly look to them, as if their color had been drained.
It was starting to get late, when he stumbled upon a small town butted up against a cliff beside a lake. He stabled at the local miller's house and was invited to dine with the headsman that night. He cleaned himself up as best he could before taking a path along the shore of the lake. As he arrived at the headman's house, he heard a familiar tinkling laugh.
He entered the house without knocking and found Helena seated on a chair while she listened to the headman's wife's story.
"Helena!" The Baron cried out in relief.
"Baron? How… how did you find me?" She asked in shock.
"I followed you from France to Italy and now to Albania! Your mother sent me to find you as she has fallen grievously ill." The Baron explained with a rare smile gracing his face.
"You are lying! Mother was fine when I left and she would never have sent someone she knew I hated to find me!" Helena denied as the headman and his son came to see what the ruckus was about.
"She asked me to find you because she knew how much I loved you! She even promised me you if I could bring you back!" he explained as his temper started to show.
"She would never promise me to such filth! You don't deserve the title given to you!" Helena denied as she stormed out of the house.
The Baron followed her as she ran into the woods; he lost her for a short while before he heard he curse as she fell. He ran to her and tried to convince her one last time to come with him.
"Helena, I beg you to come say goodbye to you mother! She didn't seem well the last time I saw her and it's been weeks since then. I love you and I promise to do nothing that would stain your purity until after we are betrothed!" The Baron promised.
"Leave me alone, you filthy, lying mongrel!" She yelled as she tried to throw hexes his way.
He disarmed her of her wand before pulling out his knife, "If I can't have you, then nobody can!"
He stabbed Helena repeatedly in the chest before cutting himself on the knife. The pain brought him back to his senses, and as he looked at what he had done he started to sob before plunging the knife into his own heart.
It had been almost a year since Rowena had sent the Baron after her daughter when Helga came to her.
"Rowena? I have some dreadful news to share with you, but I thought you should see it before I explain." Helga said as she led Rowena to the Great Hall.
Once there, Rowena saw Helena and she started to rejoice before she realized she could see through her daughter. As the shock hit her, she had a heart attack and passed away in her friend's arms.
The funeral was held two days later and was attended by many, including the first two ghosts of Hogwarts.
As the Baron watched Rowena be buried, he looked down at the blood staining his tunic. It didn't have the glistening red sheen from when he was alive, but the pale grey would suffice. He brought his transparent hand up to his face where he could see the scar that had brought him to his senses.
He would keep it there as a silent reminder for when he murdered his love and in turn caused the death of her mother.