The Sword that is Not a Sword
Disclaimer: As I'm sure I've said before, no one but Guenevere belongs to me…there is a surprising twist later in the chapter…um, I think that's it…enjoy!
Part 3: Why A Simple Swim and a Life Saved Can Change Your Life Forever
(A/N: I seem to enjoy long titles, don't I? Ok, moving along now…)
I like Quiddich. Not as much as James, though. I don't think I ever will. Anyway, some weird things have been happening this year…for one thing, Guenevere came back to school with a secret—and Guenevere NEVER keeps secrets…well, not usually.
Anyway, the Quiddich final of our seventh year kicked butt! For more than one reason, too…
* * *
It was the Quiddich final. Since James had joined the team as Seeker in his second year, they had rarely lost a match. And when Sirius made the team as Beater in their fourth year, the team really kicked butt. And when Guenevere joined the team as a Chaser in their sixth year, the circle of great players begun with James was complete.
"Guys, I want to tell you something before the others come," James said, looking uncharacteristically serious.
"What is it, James?" Sirius asked. (A/N: Have you ever noticed how serious and Sirius are pronounced the same way, and when Sirius was a kid, he was anything but serious? ::notices people staring:: ok…I'll stop now)
"Well…more than just the Cup rests on this match…" James said hesitantly.
"What are you driving at?" Guenevere said.
"Well…I was talking to Severus Snape the other day…"
"I don't think I'm gonna like this…" Sirius said.
"And…well, we started arguing. About the outcome of the match."
"Oh, dear," said Guenevere.
"And…well, we got a little…shall I say…temperamental."
"We're in trouble," Sirius said flatly.
"Well, we bet that if Gryffindor won, he would be our personal slave for the rest of the school year…"
"I think I like this…" Sirius said.
"AndthatifSlytherinwonhewouldtellthewholeschoolaboutRemus."
"What?" Guenevere said dangerously.
"Slow down, James," Sirius added.
"If Slytherin won, he would get to tell the entire school about Remus."
"Oh no," Guenevere said, going very pale.
"Yeah, that's bad," Sirius said.
"So, play your best. And DON'T LOSE!"
"Don't worry, James. We won't," Guenevere said, looking determined.
About an hour later, they emerged from the match, victorious. Remus was safe! Immediately after the match, Remus asked Guenevere to the Seventh Year's Farewell Dance. Of course, she said yes.
The night of the dance was a beautiful night—with a half moon. May 16. Guenevere would often look back to that date with tears in her eyes—then, little did she know, she saved a life—and destroyed another.
Guenevere and Remus were out in the garden. They were sitting together, talking about old times—good times, bad times. Guenevere had yet to tell him of one of her secrets—her race. The person she loved above all others—save her father—had no earthly idea that she was an elf. And after what had happened at the end of her fourth year, no one could blame her for hiding it.
"They fell in the lake! They're drowning! Somebody help them!" A piercing cry broke the warm May stillness. Guenevere was on her feet in an instant, and dashing toward the lake. Remus stood up, and immediately followed her.
By the time he got there, it seemed that the whole school was gathered around the lake. There were two unconscious forms on the bank already. No sign of Guenevere, though. He looked around for her, panicking.
Guenevere came out of the lake a few minutes later, dragging a third unconscious form after her.
"Guenevere!" Remus called.
"I'm here, Remus," she responded quietly, smiling up at him.
Then she collapsed in a dead faint.
She woke up a few days later in the hospital wing.
"Gwen?" Remus asked tentatively, forgetting for a moment that memorable time in their fifth year when she had slapped him for calling her that.
"Don't. Call. Me. Gwen!" she hissed, sitting up. "How long?"
"Three days," James answered.
"Three days," Guenevere repeated dully. Three days of her life gone. Not that it mattered. For the first time, the full meaning of being elven struck her.
"Guenevere? Is…anything wrong?" Lily asked.
"No, Lily. There—there's nothing wrong. I—I'm fine."
'Ok…if you're sure…"
"I am. Quite sure," Guenevere said, smiling slightly.
For the next hour or so, while her friends were there, she made an effort to be cheerful. Apparently, it worked, because they all thought she perfectly fine.
She wasn't. She was elven.
She remembered the fear, the pain, of the end of her fourth year. He had no name, not any more. And his face—he didn't have a face either. He had hurt her—hurt her as no woman or girl should ever be hurt—hurt her, and just because she was elven. And she had to live with the child, too. She had cried when she found out. Now, now she never cried. She had seen the worst, and the worst had taken her tears away. But now—now her ancestry was hurting her again. Her time in the lake had shown her something. The merpeople, while they had put their filthy hands torturously on Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, and Severus Snape, had cried "Elvana, Elvana!" at the sight of her, and fled. She thought she understood. She was elven. Her people measured their lives in centuries, not years as did her human friends. She would live centuries more. Why, by her peoples' standards, she was not even a maiden, let alone a woman! And Remus—Remus was the most stunning young man she had ever met. She could no longer live and love Remus and know that he was a man, and she merely a child. Not only was it unfair to him, but they both would also have to live through the pain of seeing Remus grow old—while Guenevere remained fresh and young. She couldn't have borne that. And the child—the child. Destined to a fate—her life—the child's life—was in ruins. Because she was Elvana.
It was the second to last day of the year. That night was a full moon, so this was the last time she would see Remus—at least, for a long time. She closed her eyes.
He kissed her.
"No, Remus," she whispered.
"Why not?" he asked, and continued.
"Remus, no," she said more firmly, pushing him away.
"Guenevere? What's wrong?"
"I—I'm sorry, Remus."
"Sorry?" he looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Remus—I—I can't—we—you—I---"
"What?"
"Remus, I'm sorry. It's over."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Remus. But this has to stop."
He now looked sad, tormented. "It's because of what I am, isn't it." A statement, not a question.
"No, Remus," she said quietly. "It—it's because of what I am."
"What—what you are? I—I don't understand."
"I'm sorry, Remus. It's—it's just over." She ran.
If she had looked back, she would have seen the tears running slowly down his cheeks, seen the pain, the confusion in his eyes. She might have reconsidered. But she didn't look back. She closed her eyes against her own tears, and ran.
She waited until she was in her dormitory with the door locked before she let herself cry.
(A/N: ::sniff sniff:: So sad…anyway, this was to make you read more…(muahahaha) And I hope you enjoyed this…sorry this was so dark…but it gets darker. So if you don't like dark, intense romances, then STOP READING! And I am NOT going to answer any questions about the child. So deal with it. The child becomes important later—but I'm not going to tell you how. HAHAHA!!!! SO READ ON!!!!!!!!! AND REVIEW!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME!!! ::notices more people staring than during the Sirius crack:: Ok. I'll shut up now.)
Disclaimer: As I'm sure I've said before, no one but Guenevere belongs to me…there is a surprising twist later in the chapter…um, I think that's it…enjoy!
Part 3: Why A Simple Swim and a Life Saved Can Change Your Life Forever
(A/N: I seem to enjoy long titles, don't I? Ok, moving along now…)
I like Quiddich. Not as much as James, though. I don't think I ever will. Anyway, some weird things have been happening this year…for one thing, Guenevere came back to school with a secret—and Guenevere NEVER keeps secrets…well, not usually.
Anyway, the Quiddich final of our seventh year kicked butt! For more than one reason, too…
* * *
It was the Quiddich final. Since James had joined the team as Seeker in his second year, they had rarely lost a match. And when Sirius made the team as Beater in their fourth year, the team really kicked butt. And when Guenevere joined the team as a Chaser in their sixth year, the circle of great players begun with James was complete.
"Guys, I want to tell you something before the others come," James said, looking uncharacteristically serious.
"What is it, James?" Sirius asked. (A/N: Have you ever noticed how serious and Sirius are pronounced the same way, and when Sirius was a kid, he was anything but serious? ::notices people staring:: ok…I'll stop now)
"Well…more than just the Cup rests on this match…" James said hesitantly.
"What are you driving at?" Guenevere said.
"Well…I was talking to Severus Snape the other day…"
"I don't think I'm gonna like this…" Sirius said.
"And…well, we started arguing. About the outcome of the match."
"Oh, dear," said Guenevere.
"And…well, we got a little…shall I say…temperamental."
"We're in trouble," Sirius said flatly.
"Well, we bet that if Gryffindor won, he would be our personal slave for the rest of the school year…"
"I think I like this…" Sirius said.
"AndthatifSlytherinwonhewouldtellthewholeschoolaboutRemus."
"What?" Guenevere said dangerously.
"Slow down, James," Sirius added.
"If Slytherin won, he would get to tell the entire school about Remus."
"Oh no," Guenevere said, going very pale.
"Yeah, that's bad," Sirius said.
"So, play your best. And DON'T LOSE!"
"Don't worry, James. We won't," Guenevere said, looking determined.
About an hour later, they emerged from the match, victorious. Remus was safe! Immediately after the match, Remus asked Guenevere to the Seventh Year's Farewell Dance. Of course, she said yes.
The night of the dance was a beautiful night—with a half moon. May 16. Guenevere would often look back to that date with tears in her eyes—then, little did she know, she saved a life—and destroyed another.
Guenevere and Remus were out in the garden. They were sitting together, talking about old times—good times, bad times. Guenevere had yet to tell him of one of her secrets—her race. The person she loved above all others—save her father—had no earthly idea that she was an elf. And after what had happened at the end of her fourth year, no one could blame her for hiding it.
"They fell in the lake! They're drowning! Somebody help them!" A piercing cry broke the warm May stillness. Guenevere was on her feet in an instant, and dashing toward the lake. Remus stood up, and immediately followed her.
By the time he got there, it seemed that the whole school was gathered around the lake. There were two unconscious forms on the bank already. No sign of Guenevere, though. He looked around for her, panicking.
Guenevere came out of the lake a few minutes later, dragging a third unconscious form after her.
"Guenevere!" Remus called.
"I'm here, Remus," she responded quietly, smiling up at him.
Then she collapsed in a dead faint.
She woke up a few days later in the hospital wing.
"Gwen?" Remus asked tentatively, forgetting for a moment that memorable time in their fifth year when she had slapped him for calling her that.
"Don't. Call. Me. Gwen!" she hissed, sitting up. "How long?"
"Three days," James answered.
"Three days," Guenevere repeated dully. Three days of her life gone. Not that it mattered. For the first time, the full meaning of being elven struck her.
"Guenevere? Is…anything wrong?" Lily asked.
"No, Lily. There—there's nothing wrong. I—I'm fine."
'Ok…if you're sure…"
"I am. Quite sure," Guenevere said, smiling slightly.
For the next hour or so, while her friends were there, she made an effort to be cheerful. Apparently, it worked, because they all thought she perfectly fine.
She wasn't. She was elven.
She remembered the fear, the pain, of the end of her fourth year. He had no name, not any more. And his face—he didn't have a face either. He had hurt her—hurt her as no woman or girl should ever be hurt—hurt her, and just because she was elven. And she had to live with the child, too. She had cried when she found out. Now, now she never cried. She had seen the worst, and the worst had taken her tears away. But now—now her ancestry was hurting her again. Her time in the lake had shown her something. The merpeople, while they had put their filthy hands torturously on Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, and Severus Snape, had cried "Elvana, Elvana!" at the sight of her, and fled. She thought she understood. She was elven. Her people measured their lives in centuries, not years as did her human friends. She would live centuries more. Why, by her peoples' standards, she was not even a maiden, let alone a woman! And Remus—Remus was the most stunning young man she had ever met. She could no longer live and love Remus and know that he was a man, and she merely a child. Not only was it unfair to him, but they both would also have to live through the pain of seeing Remus grow old—while Guenevere remained fresh and young. She couldn't have borne that. And the child—the child. Destined to a fate—her life—the child's life—was in ruins. Because she was Elvana.
It was the second to last day of the year. That night was a full moon, so this was the last time she would see Remus—at least, for a long time. She closed her eyes.
He kissed her.
"No, Remus," she whispered.
"Why not?" he asked, and continued.
"Remus, no," she said more firmly, pushing him away.
"Guenevere? What's wrong?"
"I—I'm sorry, Remus."
"Sorry?" he looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Remus—I—I can't—we—you—I---"
"What?"
"Remus, I'm sorry. It's over."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Remus. But this has to stop."
He now looked sad, tormented. "It's because of what I am, isn't it." A statement, not a question.
"No, Remus," she said quietly. "It—it's because of what I am."
"What—what you are? I—I don't understand."
"I'm sorry, Remus. It's—it's just over." She ran.
If she had looked back, she would have seen the tears running slowly down his cheeks, seen the pain, the confusion in his eyes. She might have reconsidered. But she didn't look back. She closed her eyes against her own tears, and ran.
She waited until she was in her dormitory with the door locked before she let herself cry.
(A/N: ::sniff sniff:: So sad…anyway, this was to make you read more…(muahahaha) And I hope you enjoyed this…sorry this was so dark…but it gets darker. So if you don't like dark, intense romances, then STOP READING! And I am NOT going to answer any questions about the child. So deal with it. The child becomes important later—but I'm not going to tell you how. HAHAHA!!!! SO READ ON!!!!!!!!! AND REVIEW!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME!!! ::notices more people staring than during the Sirius crack:: Ok. I'll shut up now.)