A Note From Sun Queen: Wow, I am in awe of all you sweet reviewer-type people! Warm snuggles and pixie-sticks for all of you! This chapter is told from Professor McGonagall's perspective, just so we can have a look at some one else's idea of Legolas.
On another note, people have asked about Elven-magic. Tolkien *does* specifically say that Elves are magical, but their powers seem to vary; for example, Elrond can control the river in his valley, Galadriel can see the future, and so on. I've decided to give Legolas a more latent brand of magic, the kind that's buried deep down where you can't see it. Elven-magic is going to play a *very* big role later on...
Secondly, since I'm home on spring break, with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and not much of a life, period, I'll be updating this quite a bit. *Believe* me, I'm not usually this prolific.
And in response to several reviews, I'd *never* hurt Lego-chan! Well, maybe just screw with his mind a little...mwahahaha, okay, a lot. This chapter, and the ones before have been a little dark, but the story will lighten up as we go. And I promise: there will be a vewwy happy ending, (unlike Valkyries, hey, look, even *more* shameless self-promotion!), so read on, Macduff!
Shiny New Disclaimer: Every character introduced in this chapter belongs to J.K. I own a pencil case with their likenesses, but nothing else. I am a broke student anyways, and if you want to sue, I'll only be able to give you a lava lamp (with blue goo!) and my Monsters Inc poster. So call off the lawyers!!
Chapter 3: Minerva McGonagall's Bad Day
I woke up this morning, and immediately knew that it was going to be one of those glorious days when everything goes smoothly, when the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and my, I think I'll cancel this morning's Transfiguration quiz...I smiled, tugging off my flannel nightgown, and choosing my favourite green robes from the armoire. Yes, today was going to be a marvellous day.
My lovely mood was abruptly shattered when Esmeralda Hooch, the flying teacher, crashed through my door, without knocking, I might add! She grabbed my wrist, tugging urgently. Her yellow eyes were wide and anxious, and her short grey hair poked out in tufts and spikes, as though she'd been roused out of a warm bed.
"Minerva, come quickly! Something's wrong with the merfolk!"
The merfolk? My heart skidded a little, as the day's first complication made itself apparent. I snatched my wand as I hurried out the door, Esmeralda close on my heels. I could feel the smile start to slip away. Correction, Minerva: today is going to be a very *bad* day.
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This is how I found myself by the lakeshore, listening to the screeching of an old mermaid, the leader of the lake-dwellers. Albus was leaning forward, listening intently. Bless the man. Wish I had half his talent for languages.
Finally, Albus turned towards us, directing our attention to a pile of rocks several metres away. Upon closer inspection, I realized the rocks were spattered and stained with blood. Good Lord...
Albus adjusted his half-moon spectacles, and stared at us solemnly. "The merfolk say that somebody attacked the giant squid last night, apparently with a...knife. The merfolk are extremely upset, to say the least." He looked puzzled, and rightfully so. Who in Hogwarts would wield a knife to cause damage? And the giant squid...*I* felt no affection for the creature, nuisance that it was, but the merfolk looked upon it as a pet. And even I couldn't ignore the vicious battle that had been waged here...blood and gore, all over the rocks, a brutal attack by a knife-wielding assailant. This was a truly horrifying act, perpetrated by someone with no regard for life. I felt rage crystalize in my belly.
I could see the other professors were as horrified as I was, and many were starting to look extremely angry.
Albus glanced at us. "It is doubtful that the perpetrator is still anywhere," he said heavily. "Nonetheless, we must still search the area. We will split off into groups, and perform a thorough sweep. Wands out, my friends. If you come across something suspicious, summon me immediately."
I drifted towards Poppy Pomfrey and Esmeralda, and together, we wandered down the lakeshore, scanning around us, and murmuring quietly amongst ourselves.
"Can you believe this?" asked Esmeralda, her hawk-eyes still wide.
"It's absolutely horrifying," agreed Poppy. She shuddered. "I'd hate to think a student was responsible for such brutality. Fair gives me the shivers."
"Well, there will be hell to pay," I said grimly, "When we catch whoever did it."
At that moment, I heard Hagrid shouting, something about a blood trail. I smiled. Dear old Hagrid, a bit rough, but he certainly had a head on his shoulders. I extended my arm. "Shall we, ladies?"
Her mouth twisted into a feral grin, Esmeralda nodded. "Let's."
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The spattered red trail led straight towards the Whomping Willow. I approached the massive tree cautiously. I'd had a nasty run-in with this violent tree the year after it was planted; I'd been in the hospital wing for two days, nursing the bruises. But today, the Willow was swaying peacefully. Severus stepped forward, his eyes on the blood trail, meaning to take a closer look. Suddenly, he leapt back, almost knocked off his feet as one of the Willow's branches swept out, slicing the air where he'd been standing only an instant before. Cursing, we all dove for cover as the Willow whipped about furiously.
At that second, I saw a flicker of movement amid the flying foliage; a quick flash of brown and gold, which vanished as soon as I laid eyes on it. But my colleagues had seen it too, and Dumbledore called out to Hagrid to freeze the tree. The big gamekeeper grabbed a half-rotted branch, and, reaching in with his long arms, frantically jabbed until he hit the knot among the roots that froze the Willow.
The tree's whipping limbs instantly halted, frozen in gruesome twisted attitudes. I didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief before a figure shot out of the Willow's arms, tumbling to the ground some distance away. Before I had my hand halfway to my wand pocket, the blur of brown and gold was on its feet, sprinting towards the Forbidden Forest.
Around me, teachers swore and gave chase. Severus was the first to get his wand clear. Whipping it through the air, he bellowed: "Stupefy!"
Which was all well and good...until the spell hit the sprinting figure. I watched as it stumbled a few steps, then regained equilibrium and kept running.
My jaw must have dropped a mile. Around me, I could hear gasps of shock and squawks of incredulity. We had all seen the Severus hit the runner with a full-powered Stupefaction spell, to no avail. Meanwhile, the fugitive was almost to the border of the Forest. I swore as I dropped into a firing crouch; if it got to the dark, tangled woods, we'd never catch it.
Around me, my colleagues had prepared their spells. I raised my wand and cried: "Petrificus Totalus!" I heard several "Stupefy!" and one "Impedius Mobilius!" That would be Albus, of course. Nasty, powerful spell, difficult to control, but it would bring down the fleeing stranger, no doubt about it.
I watched as the runner's legs buckled. The figure turned, scrabbling at its belt, but to no avail. He, (or she?) hit the ground hard, cursing, mere strides away from the Forest's edge. I pocketed my wand with a sigh of relief as we strode towards the still body. It seemed to be a young woman, wearing clothes dyed earthy colours, her long blond hair streaming over the ground.
As we grew nearer, my eyes widened in shock. Not a girl, as I'd supposed, but a man, little more than a boy; long graceful limbs in an awkward tangle, long, ice-blond hair draped over his back. He wasn't wearing robes; rather, some sort of long-sleeved, belted tunic in a dark green, intricate leather gauntlets, earth-brown leggings, and tall leather boots. His clothes were spattered with blood; a tear in shoulder of his tunic was jagged and bloody, although beneath, I saw a gleam of golden skin.
But he was absolutely...gorgeous. Pale, flawless skin, high cheekbones, a narrowly proportioned nose, a small, set mouth, beautifully arching brows over smoldering dark eyes. And those eyes were currently glaring at us, waiting for our next move, the long, slender fingers of one hand clutched helplessly around the hilt of a curved, elegant dagger. He had no wand that I could see, but had a second knife in his belt. Across his back, he carried some archaic Muggle weapon whose name eluded me, and a slim leather pack.
And his ears...through the tangle of pale golden hair, I caught a glimpse of delicate, dagger-like points.
But his eyes were what captivated me; not the eyes of a Muggle, nor those of a wizard. Something dark and dangerous danced there, through his blood and in his heart. Magic simmered, burning to be released; with a flicker of insight, I realized something. Be it a creature of light or darkness, it sure as hell isn't human.
Albus stepped forward, his wand trained on the creature. "Who are you?" he asked, power crackling through every word.
The golden creature didn't seem to hear him. I watched his dark eyes roll back into his head as he mumbled a single word: "Istari." Then, probably from the bombardment of spells, he slipped unconscious.
I looked at the other teachers in confusion, then to Albus, totally at loss about what to do next. And then I realized: I'd been right. It was going to be a very *bad* day.
To be continued...When questions are asked and answered...does a creature of Legolas' race and power have a place, even in this world of magic? How did he get here? How will he ever return to his home in the greenwood of Middle-Earth? Will he manage to refrain from killing something? Stay tuned!
