Disclaimer: See disclaimers A, B, and C on the title page of this book.
Summary: A fairy tales book for little wizards and witches. Approved as a pre-school reading by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. Revised Edition. Editor D. Umbridge
A/N - To all my reviewers – thanks a lot for your warm support :)
Also, I'm asking for your help in bombarding FFN with requests to add "Dolores Umbridge" in their list of HP characters. They have a special e-mail address for such purposes (for details see the FFN/Menu/Help section).
=xXx= THE PINK BEAUTY AND THE PIEBALD BEAST =xXx=
In olden times, there lived an even older king in a big castle, who had many children; all of them (well, mostly) polite, bright and studious little princes and princesses. As children go, all of them (well, mostly) were rather lovely, but one princess was beautiful beyond your wildest dreams.
[Now, now, my dears. That was meant merely as a figure of speech. It is not proper for such nice little boys and girls as you to have "wildest dreams" at your tender age. But, in case the aforementioned dreams still occur, don't deal with them on your own! Seek the help of your elders. D.U.]
When sitting in her favorite pale pink dress, surrounded by her respectful brothers and sisters, she seemed to be like a sun-kissed rose among plain dandelions. So it wasn't surprising at all that, eventually, everybody started calling her simply La Belle Rose; and the first person to do so was her beloved fiancé – the brave and handsome Prince Chairman from the Metropolis.
In fact, she was so stunning, that the old king himself, who had seen and done so many things in his long life, was invariably filled with amazement each time he turned his eyes upon her lovely face. Many a house-elf had caught the sight of him, walking away after such an encounter while muttering to himself, "I can't believe this is all my own doing…." No wonder that the wise king proclaimed her as his heiress!
[As it turned out later, he would have been even wiser if he could just keep his preferences to himself - such delicate matters of state are not intended for public use, not at all… but let's not get ahead of the story. D.U.]
At first, the young princess tried to refuse the title, claiming that there were others, much more worthy of this honor. But the king has been most persistent; and between his persistence and the pleadings of all the courtiers and common people alike, the obedient daughter yielded to pressure and accepted the responsibilities of the Heiress to the Throne, albeit reluctantly.
As it was already said, the king, being the great, almighty, all-powerful, and omnipotent (which means very potent) sorcerer he was, had sired many children throughout the years – "the more the merrier", as he was saying proudly each September, when, traditionally, the majority of his offspring was acquired.
[With September being the ninth month of the year, relatively simple calculations show that long and dark Christmas nights contribute greatly towards increasing of one's omnipotence. As for the nature of this phenomenon, the Modern Theory of Magic provides no answers worth mentioning here. D.U.]
In fact, there were so many children swarming the royal castle day and night, that nobody bothered anymore to catalog them all, and least of all the king himself. By some accounts, there were as many as several hundreds of them; some even claimed that the king had more children than smart robes, but that is clearly an exaggeration.
And most of them rejoiced from all their little loyal hearts, when La Belle Rose was proclaimed their queen-to-be; most of them, but not all. It must be admitted here, that some black sheep (namely, three) did find their way even into the blessed royal family. Over the years, those wicked children were becoming increasingly jealous of their beautiful sister, though they did not dare to speak ill of her loudly. And now, they solemnly vowed to be the death of her (whatever the cost and no kidding!)
[Alas, my dears. True beauty and brilliancy are always bound to rouse envy and jealousy. D.U.]
Nowadays, nobody remembers anymore what their real names were. Only the nicknames, given to them according to each one's basic nature, survived the flow of time: the Plotter, the Deranged, and the Measly.
Fortunately, the Heiress was as clever as she was beautiful, and easily prevented all their deranged and measly plots; yet they continued to come up with more. Still, the noble princess didn't want to bother their father the king with their petty intrigues, preferring to deal with them personally instead…
[This is, yet again, a sign of true wisdom, as is befitting for a future queen. What is a better way, when dealing with children, than a gentle feminine touch anyway? D.U.]
=xXx=
Now there was a big enchanted forest near the royal castle, where La Belle Rose liked to walk whenever she could afford a short repose from the burdens of state. And there, on the very edge of the forest, beneath an ancient willow tree, was a lovely small clearing which the princess favored most. It was a perfect place to gather morning dew here, or teach good manners to unicorns, or chinwag with snapdragons.
One fair morning, she was here as usual, tending to an ill bowtruckle, who broke its leg (or was it an arm?) yesterday.
And the princess was so busy helping him (or was it she?) that she didn't even notice that she has been watched…
While the kind-hearted maiden was tenderly bandaging its broken appendage (or was it broken at all?), the bowtruckle was spilling ambery tears of gratitude all over her delicate hands. The poor creature has been so grateful that the princess had to go to a nearby rivulet to wash her hands from all the sticky resins; but when she came back, her satin purse (color that of a frightened flamingo and embroidered with baby pearls and tiny rock crystals) was missing - she didn't want to use the word stolen. (Honestly, who would hanker after her plain every day's handbag?) So the princess asked everybody and looked everywhere, but all in vain. The purse was gone; and, the worst of all, the Great Quill of State, the most precious thing in the entire Kingdom, which she always kept in her purse, was gone as well!
Poor princess was in so much of distress about this loss that, who knows, she would even miss her lunch, if not for the personal invitation from her father the King! But, before going to the feast, La Belle Rose went to her quarters to change into new robes (perfectly matching her tearful eyes) and fetch another handbag. This time she chose her beloved fianc's early Easter present, which he gave her this very July, and which she never used before. It was an unpretentious but lovely velvet purse, embroidered with ruby cabochons, all in colors that of a Playwizard's first-time reader's face…
[Now, I sincerely hope that none of you, my sweet little wizards, was playful enough to reproduce that particular color on your own. Suffice it to say, it is a deep shade of pink, close to that of this book's cover. D.U.]
In the meanwhile, the king was staring at the mysterious letter he just found in his royal porridge. Somebody scratched on the bottom of the silver bowl:
THE GREIT QILL OF STATE HASBIN SOLDAUT FOR A NEW PRETY BAG ENEMYS OF THE KINDOM REJOYS
Naturally, the wise ruler wasn't at all impressed with such a semi-literate (to put it mildly) message. So, when La Belle Rose sat down, apologizing for being late and nervously clutching her brand-new purse, the king was firmly under-scratching all the spelling mistakes with his jeweled fork, all the while imagining the porridge bowl being the fattened-up roundish face of His Majesty's English Master (complexion that of a piglet under rain)…
It must be added here, that nobody ever got to know, what happened eventually to this unfortunate teacher, responsible for the education (or, in this case, non-education) of the royal family. The king himself, when being asked about the whereabouts of the missing sage, invariably responded with a highly obscure epitaph: "Too much lettuce"…
But let's go back to our narration. After ordering a second helping of porridge and transfiguring a napkin into a sheet of parchment, the king asked his favored heiress:
"Could I please borrow your quill, my dearest child? I absolutely must write the new Educational Decree Number One Thousand One right now, while it's not too late to save at least some of my children from the miserable fate of illiterati."
She gladly handed him her favorite quill, color that of a sleepy dog-rose. But the king gave it back to her with a sigh.
"No, my dear. Not this one."
She gave him another quill, color that of a bored geranium. The king just brushed it off the table with a deep frown.
"No, no, child, that's not what I want. Give me another quill!"
She produced then a magnificent quill, color that of a fatigued rhododendron; only to have it been tossed furiously against the wall.
"No, you silly girl, no! Where's the Black Quill I gave you as an early Christmas gift this very April?!"
The poor princess hung her head in embarrassment and guilt.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I've lost it this very morning, along with my old purse."
But the angry king would have none of it.
GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DON'T RETURN WITHOUT THE GREAT QUILL OF STATE!!!
And, thus spoken, he turned back to his royal lunch. And the princess went back to her clearing, to try once more the Tracing Charm, though without much hope – she already performed it so many times in the morning…
But this time a shining arrow of palest pink appeared at her feet; and it was pointing directly towards the center of the Forgotten Forest! So inside the forest she went, crying bitterly about stolen quills, angry kings and missed lunches.
And all the while her tears kept falling on the ground in heavy glistening drops, self-transfiguring into large, beautiful (and extremely valuable too!) pearls….
Poor Princess! Little did she know, that it all was but an intricate trap to lure her into the very heart [1] of the Forgotten Forest, where, unbeknownst to authorities, took residence a horde of evil wild centaurs!!!
[1] Reading through this book, one can't help but wonder, how many "hearts" actually are there in the ForgottenForest? For the sake of all the confused little brains out there, I would advise to stick to the thought that "in the very heart" means just one of those few woodland thickets, which the enlightening powers of both the sun and the Magical Government still have some trouble yet to penetrate. D.U.
=xXx=
Soon, she was so deep into the forest that the dense tree canopy blocked out all light. At last, she came upon a dim, dank clearing surrounded by rotten, crooked yews. And here, on a flat mossy boulder stood a squat quadrupedal beast with a manlike torso, below which was clumsily attached a horse's piebald body.
The centaur (as the creature obviously was one) didn't pay any attention to the beautiful maiden, standing here proudly in her modest traveling robes, color that of a fresh cut salmon, with snow-white satin kittens playing along the trim. He just kept on picking his long yellowish teeth with… with the Great Quill of State!
[One may dispute (and rightfully so) why to assign the 'he' article to merely a beast, however magical. But in this case the exception emphasizing the beast's masculinity was absolutely necessary. You have to believe me on this one, my dear innocent readers! D.U.]
The princess even dropped her purse, so shocked she was with his lack of manners.
"Excuse me… eh… sir!" cried La Belle Rose with all the politeness she could muster. "May I ask you how did you come upon my quill?"
"Yours what?"
"The f-e-a-t-h-e-r. I was looking for it since the breakfast!"
The centaur just shrugged.
"Ah… that's why Mercury was so bright this morning..."
"Excuse me?!"
"Well, if you must know, a dirty-white owl dropped it on my head."
"Would you mind keeping your… eh… hands away from your mouth when you're speaking with a lady… sir?" asked she even more politely.
"Don't you see it, human girl? I'm busy!"
"And would you mind treating my quill with some respect… sir?"
"Are you saying that this dusty chicken's tail is worth more than its mother-hen's maiden name?" leered the beast, without stopping the disgraceful mistreatment of the sacred artifact.
"This is the Great Quill of our Kingdom. It writes only Truth and nothing but Truth!"" exclaimed La Belle Rose shaking with indignation. "Oh, and by the way, I am the Heiress to the Throne!"
The centaur scratched his ugly muzzle, obviously puzzled.
"What does it right?"
[Needless to remind you, my dears, that all centaurs are illiterate and untamable by nature; that is a well known fact. This particular specimen just was reluctant to admit it. D.U.]
"It writes, as in written, wrote, W-R-I-T-E," said La Belle Rose exasperatedly.
"Hmm. Looks just like usual owl droppings to me," snorted the beast.
At this, the Black Quill leapt from his thick hairy arms, elegantly soared upwards in the air, and wrote with bold sparkling letters (color that of a winter strawberry):
YOU WILL PAY DEARLY FOR IT, YOU IGNORANT ODD-TOED BEAST!!!
"You see?" exclaimed the princess triumphantly. "Only the Truth. Nothing but Truth! Now, please give it back to me at once!"
But the centaur was just staring unblinkingly upwards at the neat calligraphic writing, shimmering in the evening air.
"Oh, yes! I can see it now," he whispered. "It's all written in the stars…"
"Stars?!" asked the princess. "It's not that dark yet!"
"Shush", hissed the beast. "The Pluto is unusually bright tonight. And that means that…that…"
I SHALL BE THE KING!!!
Attracted by all the noise, around one hundred forty three centaurs were emerging now on every side of the mouldy glade, their muzzles flung skyward and their fingers pointing at the bright iridescent letters hanging in mid-air…
But their piebald leader was oblivious to their present as he continued with his interpretation of the written Truth…
I AM THE GREAT ALPHA CENTAUR OF THIS FOREST!!!
YOU SHALL MARRY ME AND BE MY FAVORITE NIGHT MARE!!!
A roar of approval met these words, but La Belle Rose wasn't amused at all. She answered him calmly, not at all afraid of the foul creature:
I WOULDN'T MARRY YOU IF IT WAS A CHOICE BETWEEN YOU AND A HALF-GIANT SQUIB.
The centaurs all around her gave cries of rage and reared onto their hind legs. A pine-cone flew so close to her head that it caught at the silken pink bow in her luxuriant golden hair, knocking it down in the process. Another cone left her without her wand. The piebald alpha-centaur threw back his head, his back legs stamping furiously, and bellowed:
"Take this stupid ungrateful mare away and lock her up in my personal stables! And don't give her any oats or hay! Not a single straw!"
Poor, poor princess! That was the second meal she was missing this day...
Locked alone, La Belle Rose turned her attention to the enchanted kittens sewn on her cloak; each kitten had a different bow around his neck. She lightly tapped one of them with her finger.
"You, Silver Bow, will go to the people outside the forest…"
The kitten mewed, springing on the floor. It took him but a moment to find a hole in the wattled fence and then he was off.
She tapped the second kitten then.
"You, Golden Bow, will go to the Castle and find my father the King…"
Sighing, she tapped the last of the kittens and scratched his head fondly.
"And you, my dearest Pink Bow, will go straight to my beloved Prince Chairman…"
=xXx=
Prince Chairman was unhappiest of princes. He spent the morning and the whole afternoon thinking about a perfect wedding present for his Princess, and still he had found none; nothing seemed to be good enough to appear before her beautiful eyes. With a heavy heart did he turn at last his attention to his dinner and today's post.
Sturgeon and Grindylow Bouillabaisse…
...Hunting license expiration notification… Damn...
...New chamber pot bottoms legislation… Bon appetite, everybody...
...Merpeople's petition against half-grindylows' rights… Approved...
Truffled Niffler Ragout…
...Tailor's bill for his new lime-colored cloak… Signed...
...Hunting license renewal application… Filled in...
Red Currant Rum…
...Half-grindylows' petition against merpeople's rights… Approved...
The young prince was eating, reading, and signing state-papers, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
"Maybe, if I order her wedding statue of pure goblin gold…" kept he thinking. "Ah, but she already got fifteen of those… Besides, she's too modest to accept it anyway…"
It was at this very moment that Pink Bow flew in through the high stained-glass window, skillfully riding a magnificent pearly-white Thestral. The valiant kitten gracefully sprang off the Thestral's back and straight into the garden gnome salad.
"Hello, Kitty!!!" cried the prince excitedly, not at all sorry about the ruined salad (or the broken window, for that matter). "Did you bring me a word from my beloved Princess?"
Pink Bow mewled in response and dropped a dirty scrap of a fine silken underskirt (color that of an embarrassed edelweiss) into the golden salad bowl. The prince recognized it immediately.
[Of course Prince Chairman couldn't possibly know the actual color of his fiancée's underwear yet. Nor would such an eminent and virtuous statesman spend his time trying to guess it. He just felt the truth with his heart – and this is what I call a true love! I wish the same could be said for all the little cheaters out there who practice illegal uses of highly polished ballroom floors and Transparentio charms. D.U.]
Oh, Ma Belle Rose! Here I come! Show the way, my fearless fluffy messenger!" With that he grabbed Pink Bow and off they Apparated…
Once at the edge of the Forgotten Forest, the prince and his fuzzy companion followed the glittering trail of pearls, deeper and deeper into the forest, until it became too dark to see their path clearly.
"Alas, even my powerful Omnilumos spell is failing to work properly in this place!" cried Prince Chairman in desperation, tiredly leaning against a nearby tree. There was a high-pitched chattering overhead and the prince looked up to see an extremely agitated bowtruckle. The timber-headed creature was flexing at him one of its long twig-like appendages, which was bandaged in all too familiar way (peach colored silken ribbon sealed with silver safety pin).
"Let me guess," exclaimed the perceptive young man. "You are filled up to the last bud with gratitude and loyalty towards our dear Princess!"
The bowtruckle vigorously nodded with its head (or was it a head?).
"And you're simply burning with the desire to help us!"
The bowtruckle nodded again.
"So be it!" Prince Chairman waved his wand gracefully, and a bright green flame erupted from the selfless timberling's summit.
"Thank you, my enlightened little friend. Now, let's waste no more time!"
And, holding his new torch up high, the prince rushed down the narrow, winding path that disappeared into the dense, dark trees…
They had just passed another bend in the path when a clearing suddenly appeared ahead through the tangled branches of an ancient yew. The prince slowed to a walk, warning the kitten to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches.
Together, they made their way through the circle of yews and into the clearing. There, beneath a mossy boulder, something bright was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the pink ribbon from La Belle Rose's golden hair! And, not far from it, lying in the mud was her wand (sandalwood, fairy tail, long and graceful)… But as the prince stretched out a hand toward it, Pink Bow mewed in warning. A heavy hoof descended upon the wand and it broke cleanly in half. The air was suddenly full of neigh and trampling of hooves - they were completely surrounded by multi-colored centaurs…
Tall, handsome and stately in his new lime-green outfit, stood Prince Chairman in the face of this menace.
"I am here to keep company to my Princess!" said he proudly.
Some of the centaurs bellowed their approval and others laughed raucously.
A dun-colored centaur shouted, "Sure, why not! He can join the human mare!"
"Yes, Ganymede is so pretty tonight," observed a palomino centaur, to more neighing roars of approval from his fellows.
"What?!" cried Prince Chairman a bit nervously. "Perhaps you thought us pretty bipedal horses?!"
"Well… Aren't you?"
"You are lucky that my hunting license expired!" exclaimed the angry prince. "According to law, any attack by a magical creature on a human is illegal and is punished by –"
"Rubbish!" snorted their wild-looking leader, kicking his piebald hindquarters in impatience. "Law Eighty One XS states clearly that 'Any magical creature, which is deemed to have under-human intelligence, is therefore considered non-responsible for its actions. '… And, as our intelligence, thankfully, falls far behind your own –"
But they didn't get to hear all the consequences of centaurian low intelligence, for at this very moment there came a loud swishing noise on the edge of the clearing; several yews bended ominously and a magnificent postal eagle swept in through the gap, and imperiously dropped a golden-trimmed forest-green parchment into Prince Chairman's outstretched hand. The centaurs in the surrounding circle went quite silent, staring up at the letter.
"What is this?" asked the piebald lawyer, looking slightly worried now.
"Oh, this…" responded the prince casually. "Nothing, really… Just –"
MY NEW AND IMPROVED HUNTING LICENSE!!!
The centaurs nearest him backed into those behind.
"Oh, and by the way, it's September the First today...The start of the new Shooting Season…Or have the planets not let you in on that secret, um? ... Well?.."
The centaurs just stood there, transfixed, while the minutes dragged by. Finally, Pink Bow the Lion Heart roared with rage and pawed the ground; and, as though given the right hint, the cowardly creatures ran, as fast and as far as they could.
For a while the prince and his companions could hear them retreating in complete disorder, crashing away through the undergrowth. Soon there was nothing but the rustling of leaves around them. Prince Chairman looked skywards on the magnificent mauve dawn.
"I believe that Venus is extremely bright this morning," said he, heading straight for the stables.
=xXx=
Meanwhile, a whole party of belligerent wannabe-saviors was gathering at the edge of the Forgotten Forest; almost ready to set off towards the rescue mission. They were headed by the great king, who was looking splendid in his new robes, color that of ripened cherry, richly embroidered with golden horseshoes and silver spurs. Flanking the liberation army were two heroic kittens – Silver and Golden Bows.
Now, just imagine all their joy and happiness when La Belle Rose, arm-in-arm with gallant Prince Chairman, suddenly emerged from behind the trees!...
And, after hearing her story, all those people began wondering, who might have stolen the Great Quill in the first place.
"Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime," said the old king pensively, twirling the precious black quill between his long fingers. La Belle Rose had a pretty good idea about the 'who(s)'. Of course, being generous of heart and kind of spirit she just replied "I have no idea, who could have done it, Your Majesty."
But at this very moment the Great Quill of State suddenly leapt from his venerable hands, flew up and started writing of its own accord. Thus, the unworthy names and the awful deeds of the three underage culprits became finally known to the world…
House-elves brought a barrel studded with nails on the inside, and filled it to the brim with poisonous snakes and baby acromantulas. The evil children were brought before the court, and given an agonizingly bitter poison without sugar, then put into the barrel. The lid was hammered on, and then the barrel was filled with boiling oil, and rolled down the hill into the castle's lake – where they all choked with muddy water, caught cold, and drowned.
[A rather severe punishment, indeed. But, I'm sure, my sweeties, you will agree with me that all this was done well within educational purposes and for their own benefit. D.U.]
The old king died shortly after those events and La Belle Rose became the Queen. At her wedding the bride wore a gorgeous gown (color that of a Damask rose), with three kittens proudly holding the tail of her long ermine mantle. As for the prince, he found at last the perfect wedding gift for his beloved - a wide alley has been hewn through the Forgotten Forest, following the earlier trail of her precious pearly tears…
In the many prosperous years to follow, both the King and Queen enjoyed greatly to promenade this picturesque avenue, illuminated with pink and lime-green loyal bowtruckles, and artfully paved with polished centaurian hooves.
People named the alley Via De La Rose.
THE END