Author's Notes:
This is my first outing in regard to Harry Potter fan fiction. I decided to take a slightly unique approach for this idea, which is to cover stories of random wizards and witches throughout both the wizarding world and the years.
While later chapters may make mention of known canon characters, for the most part, this story will deal with a plethora of different situations, characters, and even genres. I apologize if a like story has been done prior - I don't mean to steal someone else's idea.
I don't feel these chapters will be overly long - just imagine each chapter a short story, covering a new angle of the wizarding world, adding on to previously known information, or adding new things to the universe.
Hopefully this idea is not too off-the-wall, but I understand those leery to read it. If you spot any errors, please let me know via review or PM. I hope you enjoy the first chapter.
I do not own the rights to Harry Potter nor any character created by J.K. Rowling.
The market place was large. No matter how many times her family had taken her along, the size of the market simply astounded her.
Young dragons being led by disgruntled workers, money passing hands between unscrupulous persons, pubs roaring with the sounds of drunken peasants, and strange little men with pointy ears trading grubby little bags of what she suspected to be gold were all within her sights. To the 11-year old girl, the market place was scary at times, but she admitted to herself that she loved it just the same.
After a particularly loud bang rang out from the aforementioned pub, her mother tugged on her hand and pulled her roughly toward her, ruffling the little girl's silk dress.
"Stay close to me," she whispered in a hushed tone, glancing nervously over to the little girl's father. "It can be dangerous here, so you keep my words in mind."
"But, mother –" she began speaking, only to be cut off by her father, who was dressed almost as fine as royalty, but she knew he'd be able to fight off scoundrels should they attempt to attack them.
"Listen to your elders," he snapped, his eyes meeting hers' for a split second, then returning his glances wearily toward the pub on their left. "You know that we can sometimes attract," he paused for a second, then looked back at his daughter, "unwanted attention."
The girl sighed, but let it go. They had money, more money than most people she knew, but she didn't understand why that made anything different. The other girls never want to play with me, she thought to herself moodily, acutely aware of the immaturity of her thoughts. Not that her mother would even much care for the thought of her daughter playing with, what the girl's heard her mother, "those other children."
It's just not fair, the little girl stamped her foot on the ground nosily, causing her mother to look curiously at her.
"Is something the matter," she asked, some of the former sternness flooding from her face, being replaced with concern.
She was about to answer her, voicing all of her thoughts, when an explosion from behind knocked her and her mother forward. Her father never fell, she noticed, but he appeared overly shaken, and very alert.
As her mother pulled her up, the girl heard a fearful woman's voice cry out, and looking in the direction it came from, saw a young woman motioning to the newly-formed crater where once a pub stood. Tears run down her face as she run toward the wreckage, and she was screaming about her lover.
"It was the goblins," shouted an angry man, pulling out a wand and pointing it at the small, strange men. "They did it! I saw them!"
An enraged, small crowd began to form around the small men (or goblins the girl corrected herself), and she began to feel afraid for them. About to cry, she turned to her father, but her mother spoke first.
Her father already had his wand out, and was looking as though he'd attack the first person to look at him, his face as fierce as it was, but when he heard his wife speak, his fearsome features melted away.
"Don't do it, Richerd," his wife said, a worried tone in her voice. "Don't get involved," she added, her eyes darting between the growing crowd and her husband. "Please, I beg of thee."
"I must – they'll kill the goblins," he spake back, his tone attempting to combine both the urgency of the situation and the sweetness of which he generally spoke.
"Let them die," his wife angrily replied. "Don't endanger your family for a pair of goblins."
With one last scathing look, the man ran into the fray, and the girl felt her mother push her down to safety as the first spells began being shouted out. Afraid, the girl ran, looking back only to see her mother more focused on the escalating situation than she was on her daughter. Within seconds of seeing this, she felt tears fell, and just kept running.
She knew not how long she moved, but when she finally sat down near a bale of hay, her feet were tired and she could hear only an inkling of the chaotic scene she just left. Breathing deeply and trying to stop her crying, she looked around this new place – sparsely wooded, mostly open fields, and signs of a small pond just past the clearing.
A few people in the area took notice of the girl, but none approached her – she guessed they all thought her royalty, and thus, didn't want to appear to harm her in any way. She looked down at her silk dress. I hate this stuff, she moodily thought, all it does is make people look at me funny and –
"What are you wearing," a voice rang up, snapping the girl's attention from her dress. A girl her age, maybe a little younger, was gazing at her, apparently impressed with what she saw.
She had light brown hair, a high-pitched voice, and wore a graying tunic, her feet bare, yet her disposition cheery. Shaking off her negative thoughts, the girl then replied.
"It's silk" – the girl opposite just stared, confused – "a material from abroad," she added hastily. She felt self-conscious as the girl intensely looked her over, afraid that this girl might take offense to her unearned, but very apparent, wealth.
After a few seconds of silence, the light browned-hair girl said, in a voice that lost none of happiness and curiosity of before, "It looks really nice." She smiled a bright grin at the girl.
Immediately holding her hand out, as her father does when he meets new people, she found herself asking, "What's your name?"
"Helga," the girl replied shortly, with a slight shrug. "Yours?"
"Rowena." After answering, they just smiled at each other, until a faraway shout made the both of them jump.
"What was that," Helga asked, her face worried.
"A scuffle, I would think," Rowena replied, looking over to the direction from which she came. "Something happened, and goblins were blamed." Looking over at her new friend, she added, "My father doesn't think they did anything, though."
Helga gasped. "They won't be hurt, will they?"
"I don't know," Rowena replied in a quiet tone, "but if my father is able to stop them from hurting the goblins, he will."
"Good," Helga replied, in a matter-of-factly tone. "It wouldn't be nice to hurt someone for something they didn't do. It's not right."
Rowena nodded, silently agreeing with the girl. "I think it'll be okay. My father's an impeccable fighter."
"Where did you learn all those words," Helga asked suddenly, looking over Rowena with a growing curiosity. "Where are you from?"
"My tutor in magic," Rowena replied. "She comes by the manor once a day and teaches me both an increased vocabulary and some simple magic."
"Do you have a wand," Helga, in a very hushed, yet impressed tone, asked.
Biting her bottom lip, Rowena nodded. "My mother had one made for me my birthday last. Do – do you not have one?" She felt terrible immediately after asking, as based off Helga's clothing, her parents would never have the ability to get her one.
The opposite girl shook her head sadly. "My daddy says he's going to get me one just as soon as he can. He's been working very hard for it," Helga added, her small frown disappearing after a few seconds. Hesitating, she stumbled over her words, asking, "Can I – can I see yours?" Her face turned overly red, but stared adamantly at the young girl in silk.
"Of course," Rowena said, vaguely aware of both her tutor and her mother's warning about showing her wand off to other children. Other children would be jealous, her mother said, and to prevent that, she was to never take it out in front of them.
She pulled the wand out of her dress sleeves and handed it to Helga, who carefully picked it up and examined the piece of wood.
"It's beautiful," the younger girl said with a smile. "Can you do any magic?"
"Just a little," Rowena replied, "but I'm learning more every day."
"Can I see a little," Helga asked kindly, handing back the wand carefully. "If you can't, it's okay."
Wanting not to disappoint her new friend, she pointed it toward the sky and shouted "Verdimillious!"
Green sparks, wispy in the daylight but quite visible, erupted from her wand, and flew a bit above the two girls, who looked up at it, one in wonder, and one happy she was able to pull it off.
Turning to Helga, Rowena asked, "Was that okay?"
Speechless, she just nodded, the look of glee on her face causing Rowena happiness she'd not felt in a very long time. I've never really had friends before! I hope my mother likes her so I can see her again.
The girls sat down in a grassy piece of ground and spoke to each other. They spoke about their families, their ambitions, their lives, and their fears. When Rowena's mother finally found her daughter, she could barely believe the look of joy on her face.
Wanting to initially pull her daughter away from the peasant girl, she ceased when she realized that Rowena wouldn't let her, which left her stunned. Never before had her daughter refused to listen to her. She was considering reprimanding her when she saw Rowena hug the girl, and say goodbye. She turned to her mother, and said, her tone one of restrained disappointment, "It's okay, mother. I'm ready to go."
Holding her daughter's hand on the way back to the market, back to the safety of her husband, who had successfully prevented a massacre in the making, she couldn't help but notice that something was different. While usually happy, as per her mother's upbringing, Rowena never smiled in public unless talking to others.
On the way back to the market, the large grin on Rowena's face never once left.