What I really meant to say,

Is I'm sorry for the way,

I am,

Never meant to be so cold,

Never meant to be so cold,

Crossfade

Merlin, to put it lightly, was fuming.

No one, NO ONE, had ever told him that there were dragons under Gringotts. It was bloody unfair to the dragons, and it was bloody unfair that NO ONE HAD TOLD HIM. Suddenly, he knew why Ravenna and Aithusa had moved the bookshop to Diagon Alley. He wished he had realized sooner.

He sighed. No, he thought, he didn't wish he'd realized, because he wouldn't have. He wished that Ravenna would at least be able to ask for help. Or even take a hand offered to her.

But that was nearly impossible, seeing as the only people she trusted were Aithusa and herself—Merlin knew she wasn't entirely sure she could trust him. And, though he hated to admit it, he wasn't really sure that he could trust himself.

It was even more infuriating than the fact that there were DRAGONS under GRINGOTTS!

Ravenna was starting to hate and love Hogwarts all at once. Loving it, because there were so many secrets to keep her occupied, not to mention the hugeness of it all, and hating it because she felt that Dumbledore was planning to spoil them rotten. She was perfectly fine with straw or even a wooden plank for a mattress, but here it was even more plush than- than- well, it was far more plush than in her original time, at any rate.

She had a suite of rooms near the Astronomy Tower, on the same floor as the entrance, even, and it suited her (no pun intended) quite nicely. The walls were a dark, deep emerald green, and the ceiling was a thing of wonder. Around the edges, there were smudges of green, but in the center, it was a dark midnight blue sky scattered with silver, glowing stars. The carpet was the color of moss, and the curtains and edging were a warm dark brown. For the first time since she had heard that King Arthur had died, she was homesick.

She missed the forests and rivers and trees of her first home, she missed the ever-changing sky, she missed even the ground on those many Druid campsites. And she missed the one friend she had had then, missed him more than ever before.

She fingered the one piece of jewelry that she had ever worn. A leather band, thin and flexible, with a small, delicately hand-carved wooden charm. A wolf, in full howl. She sighed with longing, remembering the time she had recieved it.

It was midsummer. A beautiful, wonderful midsummer.

The trees were green, the rivers and skys were blue, and flowers of so many different shapes, sizes, colors and scents were in full, glorious bloom. Racing through the trees, laughing with full force, were two children, barely older than a half-decade. A boy with a destiny, and a girl with a gift.

At the here and now, though, they had put any and all worries aside and behind. The boy was just an inch out of reach from the girl, and the girl simply danced away when he came too close.

Near the river, the boy shouted in triumph as he reached out again, knowing he would get her this time—

But, once again, she evaded him, ducking under his outstretched hand and sprinting to the left. The momentum of his reach made him stumble and lose his balance, tipping him forward into a pile of thick green moss. His breath gave out in an almighty hwoof! and he scrambled back to his feet. The girl, who had stopped about four meters away, called out.

"You alright?"

He straightened up, then flashed a grateful smile to her. "Yes. I'll be alright."

She walked over. "Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "I landed on moss so thick, it had to be magic," he joked. She chuckled, grinning. Suddenly, in the distance, there was a howl, followed by another, and another, until there were six voices raised in song. The girl cocked her head, listening.

"It's dinnertime," she said. He looked at her.

"How is it you always know what they're saying?"

She smiled. "Well, wolves don't really howl for any other reason, do they? After all, it'd be a bit stupid to howl just to say 'Let's go this way!' or 'Attack this thingy!' wouldn't it?"

The boy laughed so hard, he fell over again. His cheer was contagious, and soon they were both on the ground, laughing themselves hoarse. Just when they had quieted, another howl rose up, different from the others. A lone howl, a mourning song. The boy listened to it, contemplating something.

Then, he reached into a pocket of his cloak. Pulling it back out, the girl saw that it was a pendant. He gave it to her with a shy smile. The both sat up, and, with a smile tugging at her lips, the girl tied it behind her neck, letting the wooden wolf hang over her cloak fastening. That accomplished, she leaned over and hugged the boy fiercly.

They sat like that for a minute, before the boy tapped her shoulder. "Got you," he whispered.

When she had finished reliving the memory, she felt her eyes stinging. She knew that they were full of regret, sadness and loss. She knew because she felt it every day, though she tried hard to not acknowledge it.

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, she walked over to the fireplace. Unlike most of the rooms, which had their hearths and fires in the corner or along the wall, there was a sort of pavilion in the main room, with a shallow pit within which the fire was kept.

She sat down, wrapping herself in her dark colored cloak, and settled herself, staring into the flames. She sat like this for several hours, reliving her short, joy-filled eight years as a Druid girl by the name of Raven.

I've been doing really really really short chappies lately, for some reason. So, here's another look into Ravenna's previous life! I have a feeling that, if you reviewed, most if not all of you would be yelling at me that it's a certain 'Dark Knight' whom she spent her younger years with.

But, of course, you'll just have to wait and see.

Falcon