---
"How can the past and future be if the past no longer is and the future is not yet? And as for the present, it cannot be both the past and the future, but it is, depending on one's vantage point so we have not Time but Eternity. Your mortal concept of time is so confused. Must you be so Linear?"
|HPTC-Empress Azaelyste|
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Part 12- Immortality
The gates of Amethyst Palace, a long time later...
The gates of the Palace seemed to form straight out of the earth. They were made of opalescent violet crystal which clawed out from the ground. They rose jaggedly towards the sky, but then twisted elegantly into the form of hands. The arch was formed by the perfectly proportioned fingers, brushing tips at the top.
Large, cylindrical barred gates obstructed their view of the Palace with their trellis-like pattern. Hermione eased off her horse, Arion.
"Alohomora." She said, her voice wavering. Draco placed a hand on her arm and she glanced back, her eyes gleaming wildly.
She hadn't said a word to him about her vision. Draco couldn't understand the grief-stricken glances he was receiving from her. Hermione tore her eyes away from Draco and glanced at the others.
Theirs was a small group, now that Padma was not with them. Harry and Draco had decided it would be best for her to wait for them at Malfoy Manor. Fleur smiled.
"Shall we enter?" She asked, as the gates swung in the wind.
The group moved forward as one. Hermione whispered something to Arion, who flew off. The palace grounds were barren and brown, shabby in contrast to the extravagant gates. Harry could see that they must have been beautiful once, but their glory had passed.
"Sic transit gloria mundi." Hermione whispered, reading his mind. "All glory is fleeting."
"I wish you wouldn't do that." Harry started. "It's weird, knowing you can read my thoughts."
Hermione looked irritated. "I'm not reading your thoughts. I can control that. It's your emotion, I can't block out strong emotion."
"Glory is fleeting is not an emotion." Harry countered.
"Oh, what do you know?" Hermione snapped. "Your perception of emotion is so very minimal. Besides, everyone 'reads minds', you do it by body language, tone- but very crudely. I, simply, can do it better."
"Okay, okay, that's it! Time out! You-" Draco pointed at Harry and then beside Fleur. "Over there- Mia, with me. It'll do no good if we bite each others' heads off."
"Draco the peacemaker, who would have thought it?" Hermione laughed.
"You two are just too quarrelsome! I have to be the peacemaker or I go crazy- ah." Draco stopped dead. "Hello." He said, hesitantly. "Um-"
"Welcome to the Healers Palace. Come in, I am Chaos." Chaos stood in front of a large glittering palace.
It loomed out of a fairytale- not strong and sturdy like Hogwarts Castle, but wispy and ethereal. It was carved in resonating crystal which vibrated even as Chaos spoke. The sun lit the Palace in a warm orange glow. A masking spell left the crystal opaline and clear, but not transparent.
A carved archway loomed in place of a door, and Chaos led them through.
This time, her clothes did not seem so out of place. Her chainmail blended with that of the others. Her thick boots had more wear on them and her gloves seemed to glow somewhat. She did not wear the navy blue tunic any more, the ebony bodysuit sufficing. The transparent mask was gone from her face and she obviously had more control over her power.
She led them to the large dining hall. Small bells and resonators were suspended from the ceiling. A peaceful kind of calm settled on their minds and bodies. Chaos sat at the head of the table and the others followed suit.
"As I said before, I am Chaos, the Healer and the one you seek. Please introduce yourselves."
"Don't you know who we are? You must, I mean, you set the puzzle." Draco burst out.
"Ah, no, the puzzle I found along with a prophecy- kind of an instruction manual. I have no idea who you are and why you want me." Chaos seemed unperturbed by her lack of understanding.
"Right. I'm Harry Potter-" Harry paused ever so slightly. "Fleur Delacour, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." Chaos smiled slowly.
"My stepsister, Celeste, is an alchemist. She has discovered the ingredients required for the Draught of Eternal Youth."
"And?"
"And we require the blood of a Healer for it." Draco finished.
"But this Draught, it is a dangerous thing. It alters the Equilibrium. What is your purpose in exposing it's secret to the world?" Chaos asked.
"Good question, actually." Draco interjected. "Potter?" "To destroy it." Harry said. Draco cast him a disbelieving glance. "The only way we can erase the knowledge of the Draught from Humankind's collective memory is to create it and then destroy it."
"How do I know this is really your purpose?" Harry reached into this pocket.
"Albus Dumbledore left this letter addressed to 'the Healer' in my backpack." Chaos tore open the letter with supple fingers.
Ms. Casterleigh,
Perhaps you remember me, in fact, I am quite sure you do. I do know you and this letter is proof of my troupe's good intentions. I know you trust me, and you may be sure your trust will not be betrayed.
It would be best if you came back with Harry, Draco, Hermione, Padma and Ron. I'm sure you've heard of Harry Potter. They will not be suspicious or alienate you, you may be sure. You might even form friendships, my dear.
Are you wondering how I know you are a Healer, especially since you've shunned your name? Ah, well, answers will be brought forth once you return to England and come to Hogwarts. You will be desperately needed in the battlefields.
I am sorry to contact you for such a sombre purpose, but your skill will be valued. Do not fear to come back, Sir Casterleigh, I regret to inform you, is no more.
Hope to see you back with us,
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore
"I see." She said. "I shall come back with you. It has been a while since I saw Albus, how is he?"
"Fine, fine...he hasn't lost any of his old vigour." Hermione said. Chaos glanced at her and shuddered slightly.
"Excellent. Shall we leave? I can sense that time is of the essence." Draco looked surprised.
"Don't you need to pack or anything?" He asked. That was too easy. He thought inwardly.
She picked up a large travel backpack, not unlike the ones they were carrying, from the floor. "Done." She said, a smile flitting upon her features for a second.
Draco could believe she didn't need to pack. Her short, powerful figure was perfectly proportioned. She wasn't slender, but had no extra weight. Her face was brown tanned, not strictly pretty but striking. Her eyes were charcoal, ebony black. Her nose was quite large and the top was slightly crooked. Her mouth was full, and had shiny midnight blue lipstick spread over it. Her cheekbones were high, accented by the angular planes of her face.
She looked tough, determined- not very feminine, but she still moved with unflappable grace. "So, where are we going first?"
"First I think we should all rest, it's been a long day and we still have three more days to go. The others will meet us at Hogwarts gates." Harry said.
"Fine, I'll show you to your rooms."
---
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Malfoy Manor, Ron's room...
Ron sat down heavily on the bed. Lupin was in one of the bedrooms and Ron could hear him scratching on the door and whining softly. Sirius was at his perennial post near the foot of Narcissa's bed. Padma was down in the library, researching some curse or prophecy that didn't make much sense to him.
Ron was missing Galatea less and less. In the beginning, he had yearned to talk to her. She had come to his room in the nights and they had spoken at length. Ron felt as if he knew Galatea. But all that had changed since Padma came back.
The adults in the house didn't take much notice of them, and Ron got the distinct impression that Sirius liked Draco more than him. Padma, however, was a different matter. For the first time, nothing was around to distract him from her. No Hermione, no Fleur Delacour and no Galatea.
They had been having long talks, and Ron found himself revealing his innermost secrets to her. How he always felt shadowed by Harry's bravery, Hermione's brilliance and his other siblings success. Padma had been understanding and gentle. She had told him about her parents, how her mother never loved her after her father died. How she hated herself for merely being normal. How she hated that Parvati was coping so well.
But the clincher was when Padma had told him that she loved chess, too. Their style of playing was worlds apart. Ron preferred the less bold, subtler moves, whereas Padma executed audacious strategies. They each admired the others' plays. Apart from Hermione, Padma was the only girl to genuinely like him as a friend.
Ron found himself becoming comfortable with her and enjoying her company. He had never found anyone with whom he could discuss chess moves, Gary Kasparov and his emotions. He found himself hanging on her words, feeling tingly when she smiled at him.
A knock. Ron opened the door.
"Hey Ron."
"Padma, c'mon in, what's up?" Ron asked, somewhat jarred.
"Huh? Oh, nothing- um- I need to talk to you..." She trailed off.
"Sit down." He gestured.
"It's about- well,- us." She took a deep breath. "Before, you used to take me out, but we never talked. Not about anything important, anyways. And you never really looked at me. You kind of glanced through me, I never really mattered."
Ron grimaced. "I'm so sorry, Paddy, look, you matter to me now- a whole lot."
Padma, smiled, pleasantly surprised at his openness. "That's what I'm here about. You know Ron, I've always liked you. I know I matter, but in what way? I just want to know, Ron, do you want to be just friends...or- more?"
Ron glanced around nervously. "I- mean, sure...of course...I think-uh-"
"Ron, stop babbling and get to the damn point."
"More." He mumbled and then straightened up. "Padma, I think- I think I could- love you."
Snape's dungeons, three days to Graduation...
A large copper cauldron was bubbling near the fire, bright orange fluid was being distilled and four jars of dubious-looking powders were open on a desk. A gawky, flame-red haired girl of around fourteen was hunched over the cauldron, muttering words from a thick, musty old book.
"Dragonsbane- dragonsbane..." She stopped and turned around. "Severus!" She yelled.
Professor Snape hurtled through the door, a mixture of chagrin and worry on his face.
"What? And don't call me that in school hours!"
"Fine, Professor Snape. I just thought you'd like to know we're out of DragonsBane." Snape made a face.
"Can't be- have you checked my stores, Gin?"
"Ya-huh, yesterday. And your drawers and cupboards-" She smiled as Snape blanched. "Your mum was really pretty."
Severus cleared his throat. "My personal belongings, Miss Weasley, are none of your business."
"Don't get on your high horse with me, Sev. You're so odd, sometimes you're so nice- and other times you're so...sour." Ginny laughed, completely at ease with the teacher.
"You tell him, Gin!" Celeste snickered, coming in at that moment. The two girls had ganged up on Snape from the start.
There was an easy camaraderie between the three of them. Every free waking hour was spent in each others' company and they all knew the consequences of a mistake. They were brewing such a complex and dangerous draught, that, even wrongly administered, it could kill.
Severus made an explosive kind of noise. "Girls!" He muttered.
"Ah, I got you some DragonsBane, noticed it was out. Thank Paracelsus-" Phillipus Paracelsus first expounded the theory of the Philosophers Stone in the sixteenth century. "-that at least one of us is responsible!"
"You noticed it first? That, Celie, is because you haven't been pulling your weight around here and have left me and Ginny to slave." Severus joked semi-awkwardly while Celeste and Ginny laughed.
"Um, Severus?" Snape stiffened and his features became hard.
"Minerva, do come in." He folded his arms. "Anything the matter?"
"Ah, no, I heard laughter and I thought some kids had gotten in. Obviously not- Miss Weasley! What are you doing here?"
"I'm helping out, Professor McGonagall." Ginny gulped. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."
"That's quite all right. Professor Snape should have done that."
"Sorry, Minerva. Tea?" He asked, weakly.
"Eh?"
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Minerva looked surprised.
"In front of the students?"
"Oh, don't worry, Gin and Celie won't tell that their teachers actually get along, will they?" Ginny shook her head on cue.
Minerva hesitated then smiled. "Wouldn't mind a cuppa, actually."
---
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Dumbledore's office, the day before Graduation...
Dumbledore placed the Pensieve carefully on his desk and leaned back.
He had to be quick if everything was to follow it's normal path. With one swish he was out of his chair. He threw open his wardrobe and quickly pulled and buttoned on some formal robes. Quickly, he polished his wand and shook out a dusty, expensive-looking wizard's hat.
He quickly descended the steps into his lower lobby and went out, making sure to shut the gargoyle on his way. He looked about for someone.
A small first year was running past, a load of books gathered in his arms. He was puffing madly and was obviously late for class.
"Ah, Corey Thomas, isn't it?" The boy stopped. "Dean's brother?"
"Yes, sir." He squeaked, a little awed.
"Excellent, now I'm going to ask you to help me out, Corey. Please tell Professor McGonagall I shall be back within the day's end or sooner. In that time, she is in charge of Hogwarts, tell her to start preparations for Graduation. Thanks ever so much, Corey."
Dumbledore gave Corey a warm smile and without changing expression, Disapparated.
---
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Knockturn Alley, just outside Borgin and Burkes...
Fleur stretched as they walked out onto the street. Portkeys always made her stiff. She glanced back at Chaos and Hermione. Both seemed to get along. Fleur wrinkled her nose. Neither were to her taste. Hermione was far too dorky, in her opinion, and Chaos had no chic, no sense of style.
She smiled at Harry. They would go back to Hogwarts right after stopping off at Malfoy Manor. She wondered when they'd find the time to play their quidditch match.
The War was looming ahead of them. Hogwarts was probably swarming with people. It was the base for Dumbledore's side. Most magic-users would have to be trained to use swords, shields and spears. Both sides had agreed to not use guns. They would cause to much bloodshed. They were too Muggle, anyway.
Fleur wondered if they would come out victorious this time. The world would change if they didn't. Change for the worse. Fleur cleared her mind of these thoughts.
"Come on, we'll cut through Imperial Alley, it's the quickest way." Draco led the group into a large alleyway.
It looked like it had been used to royalty and revels. The street was wide, and Hermione supposed it had been for parades. Obviously in the older times, foreign magic Royalty would have come to visit.
All of a sudden, a kind of mist drifted into Imperial Alley. It sparkled and twisted as if it were alive and breathed of magic.
"Enchanted fog!" Hermione said, as Harry shuddered. He was remembering the Triwizard Tournament and how the fog had confused him thoroughly.
Harry could have sworn that he had heard horses footfalls in the distance, but his attention was diverted. At that moment two rather skinny-looking figures that resembled men came out of the fog. They had small, pale faces and their hair was a sparkling white-blue. Their clothes looked as if they were spun out of pure dew and moonbeams, the same colour as the mist. They did not wear robes as such, but curious articles of wear. It resembled a toga, apart from the fact that the figures' clothes were tightly fitted around their torsos, fell in icicle like fronds at the bottom and the top drapes were fastened to the back by two large, glittering grey stones.
Precisely at the same instant each raised a glittering horn, which looked as if it was carved out of ice, and blew heartily. A deep base tone trembled the very foundations of the street, yet it was not a loud noise. After the last note had died out two other figures, dressed in the same clothes but in orange-red, came and stood behind them. Their stance resembled a military formation.
They unrolled two large scrolls. "Herald, Mortal Magicians! Azaelyste, Queen of the Fae, High Empress over the Kingdom of Immortality from the land of Stars Tears, Sorrow, to the realm of Stars Breath, Courage, has graced your land with her presence. The Queen of Eternity bids you deliver your leaders to her august audience."
They spoke in perfect unison, their voices were not distinctly masculine or feminine, but had a nasal tone in them. They sounded like solidified sighs and wind-whispers. Draco glanced at Hermione. Her eyes were glittering and she seemed excited and nervous.
"Gryffindor's Grave!" She exclaimed softly, using a choice epithet. "She really exists!"
"You know this Queen, then." Harry observed.
"Everyone should know of her! Haven't you ever heard myths of the Elfin Queen?" She went on, uninterested in their knowlege. "She rules over the land where the 'immortals' live, you know, the Faeries and the Dryads and the Nymphs and Spirits and Elves!" She finished almost squeaking.
"What's Stars Tears and Stars Breath?"
"Stars Tears are snowflakes, ice- and that is the land from which mortal sorrow is descended. Stars Breath is fire and flame, and we've inherited courage from them."
"Quite right, m'dear." The group whirled around to find Cornelius Fudge standing in the Alley behind them. He eyed Harry dubiously, as if he expected him to have a fit or something equally odd. "But aren't you all supposed to be in school, eh, Dumbledore?"
To Hermione's great relief, Dumbledore stepped out behind Fudge. He looked extremely curious about their trip but held his tongue. "It's the day before they Graduate, Cornelius, and I thought they'd like to see Queen Azaelyste."
"Ah, excellent, shall we go in, Dumbledore?" He asked, slightly nervous.
"If you don't mind, Cornelius, the others will come with us." Fudge merely nodded. "Come along then."
As they approached the heralds and mist, four large figures- elves, rather- came out from the mist. Two remained at the head of the procession, leading them, and two followed them a respectable distance behind. The mist smarted their bare faces and tingled their fingers.
Soon, they felt themselves walking upwards, as if the ground itself was sloping. A queer sort of feeling overtook them, a shifting which felt familiar to Harry and Hermione. The two elves at the front stopped. With practiced ease they swung open two large doors, which seemed to be the entrance to the Queen's chambers.
How does all this fit in here, she can't travel about like this for sure! Hermione thought.
They walked in to a gleaming chamber of ice and snowflakes, flame and blaze. One wall was the cool grey of frost, the other the angry orange-crimson of fire. Both walls seemed alive, as if the flames were really there. But when Harry passed close to them, he felt no adverse warmth. They, like everything else, smelled of Fae Magic.
Anything enchanted by it held a gay, bubbling sort of look and smelled of moors, heather and fresh air. The floor seemed to be made of clouds and shimmered the colours of the rainbow. The royal crest hung behind the throne. It was vividly coloured, and the symbol was rimmed by two ellipses. It was a large intricate rune, shaped like an 'U' with an inverted 'L' joined to it's left side. The right line of the 'U' extended and was crossed by a horizontal line which was then crossed by two small vertical lines. The 'U' was struck by a slanting line.
The great court was empty save for the Queen on her throne. The throne was a tribute to the fury and beauty of fire and ice. The right side was fire and orange and furious red flames sparked and danced with terrible beauty. On the left the frost dazzled and sparkled with glittering ferocity. In the middle both met and raged, equals, unable to vanquish one another. The flames licked the frost but the ice bit into the fire.
The mighty throne was overshadowed entirely by the Queen herself. She had a long, pointed face, elfin and delicate. Her eyes were slanted upwards but were large and expressive. Her petite mouth was naturally a deep, dark red that seemed like a blood-stain against her translucent, almost paper-thin skin. Her eyelids were lined with glittering snowflakes and her cheeks flushed with fire's warmth.
Her hair fanned out behind her, the strands were long, almost to the floor and were stiff, straight and sparkling blue-white. Like highlighted streaks, tresses of gently curled, moving red flame slivered through. She was obviously tall, almost seven foot, but lithe and sylph-like. Her body was angular and bony, her fingers slender and long. Her dress was of black with firestones and frostgems embroidered into it with elfin ingenuity.
She did not need a crown for her royalty to be known. The very way she carried herself and the wisdom implied in her stature were enough. Draco gasped inwardly. He had never seen a more beautiful woman before...nor a more dangerous one.
Draco could see that even though her body exuded humility, goodness and kindness she could also be harsh. Her eyes were of a deep, dreamless green. An evil, creeping sort of green. Not the colour of Harry's eyes nor the colour of Daemersgrale's choice matched it. Her eyes gleamed cunning, deadly- like those of a coiled snake. Yet her beauty was unmatched. Fleur felt an odd feeling, and with a jolt, realised it was jealousy.
"Albus Dumbledore..." She said dreamily but interestedly. Her voice was like the tinkling of glass, but more rounded, mellifluous. "We are pleased to make one's acquaintance."
"Your Highness Queen Azaelyste." Dumbledore said, bowing deeply.
"Many a mortal turn hath past, has is not?" There was such purity in her tone none of the part would dream of lying to her.
"You are correct, Majesty."
"And a War and Ascension dawn at the same period?"
"Once again, correct, your Majesty." Azaelyste smiled and suddenly stopped.
"You, mortal mage, you bear the mark of Gryffindor." She said, looking at Harry. "And you, mortal maid, of WrathStorme...and you, little Sorceror-" Draco paled at her allusion to him as evil. "-of Mortragen...and beautiful maid, you are of Veela blood, and you dark one, are of the Healers Clan."
"Yes, your Highness..." They murmured.
"A fair curious assemblage, I daresay. This bodes ill for the Trident, but perhaps portents good for the world." She seemed to be talking to herself. "Excuse me, your Royal Highness-"
"Queen Azaelyste, maid of WrathStorme." She interposed, a wishful sort of look coming into her face.
"Queen Azaelyste, did you know Gryffindor, WrathStorme and Mortragen?" Hermione ventured, bravely.
"We did know them, ah, how we desired to bestow immortality upon them- but they refused. We loved them dearly, especially Gravero Gryffindor...." She said. "But that is what you mortals call past, is it not?"
"What we call past, Queen Azaelyste?" Draco asked sharply, the queen eyed him curiously.
"How can the past and future be if the past no longer is and the future is not yet? And as for the present, it cannot be both the past and the future, but it is, depending on one's vantage point so we have not Time but Eternity. Your mortal concept of time is so confused. Must you be so Linear?" She sighed.
"Your Highness, what did you call us here for?" Fudge interposed, blustering nervously. The Queen regarded him with distaste.
"For Gifts. The Fae Folk will not draw swords with mortals, but we are not averse to aid. Cornelius Fudge, approach us!" Fudge tottered towards the queen timidly.
She removed her right, fur-trimmed sequinned glove and made a rune in the air. The atmosphere congealed for a second and then the rune burst into tiny fragments of scintilla. As they fell on the Queens ungloved hand they formed a writhing shape.
The Queen handed Cornelius Fudge a large, polished oak wand. He accepted it quietly.
"Why thankyou, your Highness-Majesty...m'dear, ever so- whatever is this wand for- humbly accepted your Grace- Queen ma'am." He muttered, red in the face.
"One will find it useful someday, snivelling weasel." She said, scorn in her voice. Cornelius scurried back.
"Albus Dumbledore, approach!" She did the exact same thing, except this time, two gifts appeared. One was a small black box as Hermione recognised as the Scrying Pool Dumbledore had given her. The other was a delicate gold watchstrap. It was old and burnished, but Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words.
"You have often hoped for a memory of your father, one of the great and wise of the Fae, and here I present it to you. This other item is for tomorrow, where you will present it to a loyal student before they set out on a Great Voyage."
Dumbledore bowed deeply. "Thankyou, your Highness, this gift means much to me." He said, true gratitude shining in his voice.
"Veela Maid, Approach. What is your name?"
"Fleur Delacour, Highness."
"A good name for you, Flower of Mortals." The Queen did not conjure a gift for Fleur but leaned forward and whispered softly. "Heed my words, you will be faced with a choice soon, but be not mournful, all is not lost. Those whom you betrayed will forgive. Now go, child, with our Blessing. We give thee the mark of the Fae."
The Queen nimbly drew the same symbol that was on the great Flag on Fleur's forehead. It gleamed for a minute and disappeared into her skin. "Thankyou, Queen Azaelyste."
"Healer, approach." The Queen did not ask her name. Instead she drew her closer and bid her shut her eyes. The Queen touched them softly and then touched her chest. "Rise, Healer. Whatever thine eyes may behold, thine heart will not become too heavy to bear."
"Thankyou, your majesty." Chaos stepped back.
"Maid of Wrathstorme, speak your name." Hermione stepped forward.
"Hermione Granger, Queen Azaelyste." The Queen lifted an arm and muttered under her breath. In a moment, a thick volume was speeding towards her. She caught it deftly and handed it to Hermione.
"The Tome of the Trident. Keep it well, tis older than Mortal Time itself. It's knowledge will be precious to you." Hermione bowed and thanked her.
"Heir of Daemersgrale, approach, budding Sorceror." Draco did not meet her eyes. "You name?"
"Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy, Queen Azaelyste." The Queen leaned forward once more.
"Knowledge for you, Sorceror Valwracen. Pure evil no more exists, lest you call it forth. Be cautious, yet one may always undo one's error. A great choice will be before you soon, not the choice already made, but one anew. Make it with clear soul and never regret." She blessed him and turned.
Her skin seemed even paler and her eyes gleamed a curious light. "Gryffindor's heir, approach. Your name?"
"Harry Potter, Queen Azaelyste."
"You, Harry-" Her voice seemed tense and melancholy. "-art so much like Gravero." She touched him on the cheek. "Here is my gift, though bitter may the war be, always keep your hope. Yet do not mistake folly for bravery, young Wizard, though nary a difference may there seem."
"Thankyou, your Highness." Harry started to move back when a gesture from the Queen stopped him.
Time froze inside the room. The spell had not affected the Queen and Harry.
"Your majesty, what-"
"Azaelyste will suffice, Harry." Her tone had changed from commanding to yearning. She lifted herself off the great throne.
She stood around a foot taller than him, graceful and deadly. With one stride she was beside him. She placed her hands on his cheeks and tilted her head. Before Harry knew what she was doing, her lips were on his and she had kissed him. It didn't feel like an ordinary kiss, it was suffused with life and love and hate and death and yearning and melancholy.
His heart beat faster and faster. A warmth had spread into his stomach. It felt so wonderful he thought he would die. She released him and sat back down on her throne. Harry felt weak and giddy.
"Rest, Harry, the pain will subside. I have given you immortality, but not eternal youth. Your Draught of Eternal Youth must be taken every year by normal mortals for it's potency to be felt, but mortals will still die in the normal course. For you, one drop is enough for immortal youth. Truly immortal youth." She smiled.
"Why? Why did you do this to me?" He choked.
"Live your life among the mortals, but after it is done. After loves and friends have all perished return to my Throne. Rule forever by our side. We let Gravero slip through our fingers, but his heir will not refuse our love." Harry looked aghast.
"But- I don't...I don't love you..." He said, uncertainly. The Queen smiled. "What if I choose not to drink the Draught?"
"Do you not love me, Harry Potter? Search within yourself and you will know you have always loved me. It runs in your veins, your ancestors even Before Gravero Gryffindor loved me and your heirs shall love me also. You love me with Fae Love, your mortal mockery of it comes not close. That is why after all your kin and kith are perish'd, you will drink the Draught and rule our Kingdom." She touched his cheek again and Harry knew her words were true. "Goodbye, Harry Potter, first of man to become Immortal. We shall meet again."
She waved her fingers and Time seeped back into the room.
"Begone- but before you go...'ware the Ruined City's arch, for that is where the Beginning of the End shall commence. May the wise Fae guide you."
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