Dedicated to:

Lili Bibi , MissMaryLiz, annaea3077, kitkatwriter11, Hermione-The Dark Lady, Orchid Rollo , latina-pr, Queen of Faerie.

Very good you guys, I'm sort of impressed, some aspects most of you got right… the rest not so much :P but all of you get A+ for the effort :D

But that was a fun game; let's see who can describe the characters better as we move further on into the story. :D

When the Butterflies Fly Home

Hermione could feel someone watching her but it wasn't a gaze that made her worry, it was just one of curiosity. The slave girl looking at her blushed guiltily when Hermione looked up and then she turned away.

She was a pretty one, with long midnight black hair that fell all the way down to her knees; hair that looked like shot silk, wide hazel eyes ringed with long lashes under slim, slanted brows with delicate features. Almost doll like in their intricacy, a slim small nose that turned up, instead of down and a small mouth, all there in a nut brown face shaped round like the moon.

Hermione had seen her before, her name was Noor, she was immensely shy and very easily bullied. Walking over to her work station Hermione smiled at her pleasantly and said, "Beannachtaí, my name is Hermione. What's yours?" she greeted her, hoping that the girl would stop looking so scared if she showed her that she too was not from here.

"Selamlar," she greeted Hermione in her own language, "My … name is… Noor." She said hesitantly, "I'm not supposed to be talking to you." She said softly.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'll leave now." Said Hermione, with a crestfallen look on her face. She had really hoped to make a new friend.

"Wait!" Noor said catching her arm, "It's alright I speak Latin, I have been here for over two years now. But… it's… time I … I… I start making my own decisions." She stammered, smiling shyly at Hermione."

…..

"Are you sure you don't mind taking me to your special spot?" Hermione said, concerned as Noor led her into the garden. It was the evening time, all the stars were out and there was an hour where the slaves could rest and do whatever they pleased.

"I'm sure…" said the other girl; she was surprisingly strong for someone that short. Noor led her new friend to a grove of trees, which was where she spent most of her time. "It's the best spot to stargaze; I found it when I came here two years ago."

It was the same place Dolus had asked her to meet him Hermione remembered with a jolt as Noor pulled back the curtain of leaves formed by the weeping willow.

Sitting down, she patted the place next to her, "I really admire you… I would never have the courage to do what you did." She said softly, looking down… ashamed.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione protested, looking at the younger girl.

"I wasn't raised like that, in my culture women are taught to be demure and shy, to speak when spoken to, never to defy. I was always shy myself, self-conscience…" she giggled in embarrassment.

"Self-conscience?! Of what?" Hermione said looking her over with her tone painted in incredulity.

Noor rubbed her left cheek absently, a nervous tick Hermione had learnt over the past few days, "My mother was one of the most beautiful women of our village in Turkey, dark hair like midnight and vivid blue eyes that are incredibly rare in our land. People always expected me to be that beautiful, imagine my mother's disappointment when I turned out normal, if a little chubby." She said, wincing still at the painful memory, "What about you? Tell me what your home was like." She pleaded.

Hermione looked at her new friend and smiled, Noor always avoided talking about anything that would hurt people, and she was a gentle soul… she didn't belong here, "My village…" she sighed, "Was beautiful beyond belief and there were forests …. Everywhere! And a wonderful waterfall that fell into a tiny brook, when the weather would permit me and my sister would go romping around in It." she said smiling at the fond memories, "That was before my sister Rhea got married to Harry, he was from another clan. They hated each other in the beginning… but just for the sake of hating each other, because their marriage was an alliance between the two clans and my sister was rebellious if nothing else. Harry was immensely patient with her."

She giggled, "I was twelve when they got married and whenever Rhea would visit she would enlist my help in playing pranks on him. Me being the immature child, I helped her and enjoyed it. Harry bore it all very patiently." She laughed at the memory,

"There was this one time, me and Rhea mixed a herb into his soap and it made him shed all his hair… I admit that was going a bit too far but anyway finally he managed to convince her that it wasn't too bad being married to him and she admitted she was in love with him and nine months later they were blessed with Ruth; my niece, they have been married for five years now." She smiled fondly as she told the rapt younger girl, "After they had Ruth, Rhea got pregnant again… a girl again; Aine… beautiful as the very dawn she is, she and Ruth together keep Harry on his toes, he adores those girls and is very-very intimidated by them." She giggled,

"My village…." She sighed, "Oh it was beautiful… in a valley surrounded by fields and fields of endless flowers; violets and pansies, hollyhocks and honeysuckle, iris's and petunias and the scent… oh it was enough to drive you to insanity! All day the wind would bring their scent into the village… I loved it! I used to be studying and through my teachers window the scent would float in and I would feel rejuvenated. My friends thought I was a strange one, Ronald was killed in the battle and Gin committed suicide after her intended died." She said sadly.

"But my father… my father was the best…." She said with a pained croak, "He knew I was meant to be more than just a mere farm girl who tilled the fields and planted the crops, so he sent me to my teacher; Augs our druid when I was five, how I loved that old man! He took me for walks around the forest talking to me about nature and natures connection to man, how each tiny animal is important to the whole, big picture, in his home, he taught me how to brew potions, how to identify herbs, how to respect other cultures. He was amazing, but my father, it was my father who sent me to him and how we fought sometimes." She said, fighting back tears, "I used to get so… angry at him! And now I wonder if it was worth it, all those times…"

Hermione felt Noor's hand on her shoulder, comforting her, "I too miss my father." She told Hermione, "He was always my champion… my defender. When I was a little girl he was the one who used to put me to bed and he told me these fantastic stories; about fairy princesses and dragons, giant spiders and magic carpets, genies in lamps and beasts that became human. I adored him… when they arranged my marriage, I was ecstatic." She told Hermione,

"I was always a romantic... still am, begging my father to tell me stories where the prince and princess fell in love and were married, I loved the boy I was to marry from afar. I was much too embarrassed by how I looked next to my beautiful mother so I never could muster the courage to talk to him or even to look at him eye to eye and I was wild with happiness when we were to get married."

A solitary tear made its way down her cheek, "But that ended soon enough, when I went to my in-laws house as a new bride I discovered my husband had a nasty drinking habit and was abusive, he raped me over and over again and they did nothing about it. Finally one day when I decided I had, had enough I told him I was leaving, returning to my parents and then…." She swallowed painfully, more tears running down her cheeks now,

"Then… he took out oil and cast it upon me, I was so much smaller than him so he could hold me down easily. He set me on fire Hermione! He set me one fire! How could he?! And his parents just stood there and watched as I screamed for help over and over and over until one of my screams was so loud and painful that the master heard it, he was in our village for some work that day, thank god, he burst into the house and he saw me on fire and he rescued me…. Took me to his homeland, helped me heal…" she told her, hesitantly lifting up the sleeves of her full tunic and showing Hermione the painful, charred skin on her arms.

"I wanted to die…" she told her, "Who would love me now… I am neither a virgin nor pure nor do I have anything to offer in terms of beauty or wealth. But I promised myself if even one person showed me kindness I would live and not kill myself. Sometimes I wish the master had never saved me, had let me burn there…"

"Oh Noor…." Hermione didn't know what to say… there wasn't anything she could say…

"He is kind Hermione… he really is, give him a chance." Said the pretty girl, wiping away her tears.

Hermione knew who she was talking about and just nodded.

"He looks out for me… whenever he talk to me he is very gentle and nice, gives me these long sleeved tunics so that I don't have to show my marks to anyone I don't want to. Give him a chance…" said the girl. "He likes you… whenever he is in our quarters his eyes instinctively search for you. Give him a chance."

Hermione just looked at her friend silently and finally said, "How do you feel about telling me one of those stories that your father used to tell you?" in the hope of distracting her.

Noor blushed shyly, "Oh… I couldn't do it justice; they are ballads you have to sing them."

"So sing me one and then explain the story." Hermione coaxed the shy girl.

"Alright…"

"Once there was a woman, so brave and lovely that the heart would break.

He killed her husband on the night of the full moon and took him to the land of the dead.

And she followed, after him through deserts and forests, through rain and snow.

And begged and pleaded to him, to return her husband home.

She cried and pleaded but with no avail.

For the dead belong to the underworld and that is where they will remain." She sang a short ballad in her own tongue, Hermione didn't understand but it was beautiful and haunting, it entranced her so she was unable to look away.

Noor then turned to Hermione.

"It's a very beautiful story of a wife named Savitri and a husband called Satyavan who died young, when death came for him and took him body Savitri followed death, though deserts and mountains, through icy weather and extreme heat; never giving up, never relenting until finally death so impressed by her persistence granted her three boons. For the first she asked that her blind father- in- law's eyesight be returned, for the second she asked that she be blessed with children. As death turned to leave Savitri smiled and told him that he had to return Satyavan because she couldn't have children with anyone other than her husband. She had outwitted death, death returned defeated and the husband and wife returned home." She told her.

Hermione grinned, "That was a lovey story!" glad she had been able to bring Noor out of her melancholy mood.

"I'm glad I made a friend like you…" smiled Noor.

"Me too…" Hermione said, gently squeezing the younger girl's hand.

A/N: Longer chapter because I had time today. What do you guys think of Noor? Is she nice? I'm thinking of introducing Theodore Nott as her love interest? The story of Savitri and Satyavan is a story my grandmother used to tell me, it's an Indian folk-legend, I hope you don't mind my use of it here. Noor is after all Turkish.

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