Disclaimer:
I do not pretend to own the Harry Potter world or any character within it: that right belongs to the eminent J. K. Rowling, to whom I most respectfully yield.
Neither do I pretend to be an expert on the early legends of King Arthur and the fabled Isle of Avalon. They belong to posterity and my imagination.
If, in writing, I offend someone, I apologize, but stand by my opinions. I write this solely for my own amusement and for the appreciation of my audience.
I have no money, don't sue me, I'm not worth it, and there are bigger fish to fry.
Chapter Four
There was nothing different about Hogwarts, the mail still came by owl every morning, the house elves still cleaned out the Great Hall after its occupants, and Hermione still huffed about the slavery of it all. The only difference between this year and the past was the tone.
The addition of nine white or red clad teachers was a visible reminder of the added security everyone knew was placed on the castle. Peeves the Poltergeist was even forbidden from some classrooms and offices, a situation that frustrated him to no end.
One morning, nearly a week after the start of term banquet, the morning owls flew into the Great Hall. Preoccupied by his delivery of the Daily Prophet, Harry didn't notice that anything was wrong until he heard a shriek from the Hufflepuff table.
He stood up to see what it was all about, but Anna had him by the collar and nearly jerked him under the table, all the while drawing her wand as if they were being attacked. After a few seconds Anna let him up, Harry was surprised to see that Hermione also had her wand drawn, as if expecting to defend herself.
"What is it?" he heard himself ask, watching Professor Sprout lead Hannah Abbot, who was in his Herbology class, away, her face buried in the short woman's robe, shoulders shaking.
"Black backed owl," Ron said hollowly, "from the Ministry; it means someone's died on the job. Her father works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; I'll bet it was him."
"Oh no!" Hermione exclaimed, "Not Hannah!"
"It's begun," Anna said softly, "Mark my words; there will be more of these black owls before the term is up. The Dark Lord is once again on the rise." Her face was sombre and her voice held no amusement, "Do you still think you have what it takes to see this through to the end, Harry Potter?"
"What choice do I have?" he asked bitterly, "It will be even worse in the end if I don't face him."
"There are always choices Harry," Anna sounded amused, not at the situation, but at his declaration, "Just because some decisions have more violent and unpleasant consequences than others, doesn't make the choice any less valid."
"What do you want me to say?" Harry asked, "That I won't stand and face him when the time comes?"
"You will," she said with a conviction that Harry found hard to echo, "It is your fate and your destiny. I only mean to caution you. Your choices will affect more than yourself, especially now. Realize that."
"It's kind of hard to forget," Ron said, still focused on the owl, wearing a black vest-like garment, "Especially when one of those things has come flying in."
Hermione sniffled and turned into Ron's shoulder, hiding a few tears in the folds of his robe; he put a comforting arm around her and gently patted her head. She looked up and said shakily "I'm glad you've come here Anna"
"Wait and see if you're still glad when I'm gone" Anna said wryly, "I assure you that you may come to dislike me later as much as you now appreciate my presence."
"Why?" asked Harry, sitting back down to finish his breakfast, though the oatmeal now tasted like chalk to his palate.
"I told you once Harry, that I will stand to protect you," Anna seated herself on his left hand side, "that will not make me popular nor likeable sometimes."
"We'll all stand to protect each other, we always have" Ron declared, "but we still get along. Most of the time"
"Be that as it may, I certainly hope I am wrong." Anna grinned, "I've become quite fond of you Ron Weasley." He blushed, as brightly red as his flame coloured hair.
"What's on the schedule for today then, Hermione?" asked Harry, eager to get his mind off the black messenger owl.
"Advanced Potions," she began, interrupted by Ron's disgusted "Ugh, Snape", "then we've got Herbologly, or perhaps not, considering, then Defences Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon and I've got Ancient Runes, and you've got Divination."
"Will you stay for Defences Against the Dark Arts or will you disappear like you always do?" Ron asked, "It's not really fair, the way they let you off like that."
"She doesn't need it," a voice behind Ron spoke, "there are better things to be done with the time."
Ron, and everyone else except Anna, jumped at the low pitched voice of the Lady Wren, the Priestess who'd been assigned to Griffindor for their classes.
Anna just hrummmfed irritably and said "I really think you should stop doing that, Wren, honestly, all it does is scare people."
"Sometimes fear is a good thing, it keeps us from taking unnecessary risks." Wren smiled, she was considerably older than Anna and Harry and the rest, but still managed to pull off the same childlike enthusiasm, "Besides, that's your favourite trick, not mine."
"We're not taking unnecessary risks sitting down to breakfast." Anna informed her pompously, "and I only do it if it'll help the situation, not scare people out of a year's growth."
"Balderdash, you like making them jump as much as I do" Wren disagreed cheerfully, "By the By, the Lady wants to see you, she's in the common room, waiting."
"I just spoke to her this morning and she didn't have anything special to say." Anna protested, "Why does she want me now?"
"Not that Lady, Morganna, the other one." Wren lifted her brows expectantly.
"Oh bugger it all; doesn't she have better things to do with her time?" Anna stood up, hastily slurping down the rest of her pumpkin juice, "Honestly! You'd think the woman could find better things to do than harass me on a regular basis."
"Watch yourself," Wren said companionably, "I might let you have a certain amount of liberty, but the Lady most certainly will not. Morgan you might be, sister you are not yet."
"I think I know that as well as you, Lady Wren," Anna emphasised, "But at least in this one thing I have the authority as you do not. Stay with them Wren, until I return."
"Of course," Wren bowed her head, "I live to serve, Morganna."
"Cheeky," Anna muttered, "I'm sorry for running off like this, it's unpardonably rude, but Wren will stay with you until I return, whenever that may be. Goddess knows she likes the sound of her own voice."
"Who?" asked Harry, puzzled by all the double-talk.
"The Lady of the Lake," Wren said, lightly as Anna swished out of the Great Hall. "This is Morganna's first excursion outside of Avalon and the Mother is notoriously protective of her little chicks."
"The Lady of the Lake is here?" Hermione asked, incredulous.
"Not physically," Wren assured her, "She's just in the fire, wanting to chat."
"Why do you keep calling her Morganna?" Ron asked, "Isn't her name Anna?
"Yes and no" Wren acknowledged, "She goes by Anna, but it's not her full name. She'll probably drop the rest entirely when she takes the last vows."
"You pick your own names?" Harry asked.
"Do you think I was born 'wren' ?" Wren asked wryly. Harry ducked his head in embarrassment, still munching his oatmeal. "Finish up then," Wren said brightly, "I've been looking forward to meeting with Master Snape so this ought to be an excellent opportunity."
"Don't say we didn't warn you," Ron grumbled, but with Wren in the room radiating energy and cheerfulness, there was no way Snape could be as selectively vindictive as he usually was. A welcome change for the Griffindors, for Snape seemed to take the presence of the people of Avalon as a personal insult and tortured his least favourite class accordingly.
Professor Sprout was twenty minutes late to Herbology, no small reason being Hannah's abrupt message and subsequent departure, but she found her class working cheerfully to prune the Venomous Tentacula. It'd finished its teething cycle over the summer and needed to be trimmed. The students were laughing; too preoccupied with avoiding the tickling feelers to really notice that Hannah and Professor Sprout weren't there.
"I trust everything is alright, or at least as alright as it can be." Wren spoke softly, so as not to distract the students from their task. "You mentioned that it needed work, so I put them to it. I didn't mean to presume."
"No that's ok," Sprout said thickly, "They need something to do."
"Go on back up to the lounge then, love, I can handle this one. Give yourself a little time." Wren put a sympathetic hand on Sprout's shoulder, "I've got the Griffindors next anyhow and a sympathetic ear if needs be."
"I will, I think, and thank you." Sprout rose and dusted herself off, "I appreciate it." Wren nodded, and watched Sprout leave.
'It has begun,' she thought to herself, 'Not as we would have planned it or wished it, but still within our control, for now, at least.' She looked at the sharpened pruning shears in her hand, reminded strongly of her years as a novice and the months she'd spent working on eradicating every semblance of a weed from the Avalon gardens under the watchful eye of her teachers.
'And so it comes full circle again' Wren mused, 'only this time I'm the teacher and I know everything and can never falter or fail' she chuckled at her own fancy. No one had all the answers, not even the Lady of the Lake; it was a childish wish to want someone to just sweep all the troubles out of the path, but Wren wished it all the same.
Anna was back for the start of Defence Against the Dark Arts, as was Raven, someone whom the class had only seen during the start of term banquet. The Griffindors were ushered silently outside, where not only Raven faced them, but the entire House of Griffindor, from first to seventh year, was gathered. Raven cleared her voice and began to speak:
"There is one thing that Avalon is famous for, that many witches and wizards try to emulate but ultimately fail and die horribly attempting. Those initiated to the Holy Isle can perform magic without the use of a wand." Amazed mutterings from within the class filled the air; this was one rumour that had spread about over the past week. Mysterious things happened when Sisters of the Holy Isle waved their hands, they bore wands, to be sure, but sometimes they 'forgot' to use them.
"I know there is a rumour to this effect, and it is true, this is something that can be done. However," she looked sternly from face to face, "after today, should I hear one breath of word to this effect from the mouth of a Griffindor the entire house, the lot of you, will be failed for the year." Silence fell over the assembled group, replaced by nervous gulps.
"Make no mistake I have the will and authority to do this. Right now all the other houses are being convened, in their common rooms, to hear the official version of that Abbot girl's father's death. The ministry's handed down a load of garbage about him falling in the line of duty, but suffice it to say he was murdered by the Death Eaters."
Murmurs filled the crowd; this wasn't what they wanted to hear. "I've taken advantage of the time to show you why we don't teach what I'm about to show you to outsiders. Morgan, attend me."
Anna, her face pale and waxen, began to remove her robes, tunic, shirt, boots, and trousers, finally standing before the assembled house wearing a bra type top Harry'd seen athletes wear and short, bicycle type shorts. Harry, and probably every male within the vicinity, marvelled at her sleek, fit form. She had that body type that made her seem about as substantial as gossamer, with a delicate fine bone structure, that belied years of intense discipline.
Wren and Dimitri, the Druid, began to rub Anna all over with a glistening ointment. Anna was heavily tattooed, dragons flaring like bracelets on her wrists and ankles, Celtic runes and writing running up and down her back and stomach, and a line of fish, like a necklace, tucked under her chin. They glimmered and shone with magic as the ointment was applied.
"If you'll recall there was a dock on this side, until this summer when a nasty storm came through and sank it, and most of the shoreline, into the lake." Anna's voice as she faced them was calm and oddly flat, as though speaking entirely by rote. "I want you to watch what happens to me and the ground around me as I raise it back up."
She turned to face the lake, and knelt. Harry was close enough to hear her say, "Goddess as you love me, let this not be my time." She stood, raised one hand palm up to the sky and said, "I call upon the lightening."
A bolt of unparalleled brightness flew out of the clear sky and landed in her palm for long seconds, as she seemed to absorb the energy, growing brighter and brighter as the bolt seemed to go on forever. The grass around her ankles turned black and crisped, as the power fed into her until all at once she made a snapping motion and the bolt died.
Still glowing she starched her palm down over the edge of the fresh cliff face and called out "Accio Dock!"
A sheer lance of white light flew from her hand to the water, summoning the fallen dock. Around her not only had the grass begun to smoke and curl, but her arms and legs were steaming as well, giving off physical waves of smoke as she worked.
The ground, eroded by wave and wind, flew back onto the cliff side with an enthusiasm that spattered Anna with mud that just hissed and crisped when it touched her body. The dock went piece by piece, back to its original position, fast enough that a few fish still flopped on the boards. The light cut out, and Anna fell, first to her knees, then on all fours, panting as if having just finished a marathon.
"I would like everybody to please file by and examine the ground she was standing on." Raven ordered, "Morgan, you may now go cool off."
Anna walked, somewhat unsteadily, over to and straight off the end of the dock. As she dove into the water, it hissed and steamed, as though someone had just put a red hot pan into a kitchen sink. Obediently the Griffindors walked by the scorched circle of earth. Blacked foot, knee, and hand prints were left where Anna had stood and then fallen. Raven waited for them to seat themselves back where they'd started before addressing them again.
"That is why we don't usually don't try teaching this skill outside of Avalon." Raven said simply, "Anna will be the first to tell you that she's spent her life, from her very birth, being conditioned to endure that kind of pain. You'll notice she's been marked on her back, stomach, arms, legs, and neck. Seventh years should recognise it, as they are protection spells, and they are permanently inked into her flesh in order to keep her from being crisped like that grass. Ask her about them sometime, I'm sure it'd be enlightening."
Wren, the cheerful, bubbly Wren spoke now, completely sombre, "What we've received permission to give you isn't nearly that powerful, thank the Goddess, Anna has a special ability, she's a Morgan, and it allows her to handle power that would crisp you or me. I know that all of you know how to cast a disarming spell; I've spent the past week working on that. What I want you to do now is take out your wands," she waited for this process to be complete, "When I tell you, cast the spell against the wall of this circle" She joined hands with Raven and Dimitri and a bubble, rainbow coloured almost transparent descended on the Grifindors, "NOW!"
Harry cast his against the bubble, as did everyone else, and felt a slight tingle as it hit the sphere. His head suddenly pounded and he went weak in the knees, dropping to his back in the grass.
"If you're feeling a little woozy or sick, that's perfectly normal" Raven assured a vomiting Griffindor, "that means the spell worked."
"Now, again, if we hear that anyone has breathed a trace of this to anyone from another house, you will all fail." Wren said seriously, "And likely the Lady of the Lake will have some words for you as well, she was a former Griffindor, and allowed us to only perform if for you, as she trusts in the Griffindor ethos. I will repeat myself: DO NOT USE THIS SPELL, not unless your life is in mortal danger and you've been separated from your wand. A situation I pray will never befall you."
"Go back to your common rooms; the last classes of the day have been cancelled." Raven ordered, "And if any of you feel truly sick, please don't hesitate to see Madame Pomfrey, that's what she's there for."