Purpurrine seemed to float, engulfing and surounding the precious and slender figure. Sparkles of starry glimmer, of ethereal dust reflecting on the inexistent bodies of mermaids and faeries, which were created upon a reflection on the hazy and pale mist. Light and shadows seemed to play with every single inch of the magickal area, and the water, ondulating and shaking in faint and perfect waves, played and swam towards the creature.
Like a nymph she swam, and the waves of crystal fluid elevated her in a throne of ligth and magick, of perfection. And such perfection did she represent. Her skin was silver, touched by the tender hands of the stars, her babysitters, and engulfed in the hug of the mist that was always pressent in the little kingdom of the Celtic North. Her lips were cherry, and bloomed a crimson red, like roses with the velvety touch, but sweet and sour like blood itself, and that was to be discovered by Harry. Her hair fell wet against her humid back, but it was thick, and light like feathers, silky like threads of clouds. The colour was tan, a chestnut brown, but touched with the glimmer of night, as if the moon had chosen to touch this woman and mark her with the luminous trace of her rays. Her eyes were brown, so deep and proffound nobody could reflect on them. There was also a deep, deceived wisdom and intelligence in them, one that was unreachable for the most studious and oldest man of any kingdom. It was an intelligence that resided in the nature, not in the books and in the age.
He was surprised, but it was a short word for his fascination could not be described. He was absorved in her conjure, for she was a nymph, throwing out all her charms in order of capturing him into her knot. But he doesn't care, for the being is so glorious, the vision so sumblime. The feeling of his heart was so true and solemn that he knew, before speaking with such angelic creature that she was to be the woman with whom he married, like his father did to an elven maiden.
And then destiny had it that the girl saw the intruder into her secret area of peace, for her tortured heart and life could only be relaxed with the cold waters that massaged each muscle. Startled she gasped, and tried to turn around in unision, wanting to swim to shored and flee from the discovery of such man. Her bad luck had it that two actions done at once, inside the cold fluids of a pond, derivated only in disaster. A deep gulp of water penetrated her lungs as she inhaled, and the weeds of the depths, not wanting her to leave, wrapped her ankle with strong leaves and tight grip.
She vanished under the surface of the water, and no ethereal being did nothing to recover her, to aid her and save the feeble life that was of humans. Harry could not let destiny take away the treasure he had just found. He took off as many clothes as he considered disturbing and heavy to allow movility. Followed act he submerged himself into the lake, and scanned through the water in search of the nymph that was to be his wife.
Light rippled with the slithering of water, a luminity that was so bright it seemed decided to blind Harry, to keep him from saving the girl he had passionately admired since he first saw her. He played against the light and dived down. Taking a hold of the struggling body, he tore the algae that threatened to sink him down with the woman, and impulsed his body upwards.
The surface of the water broke in a million pieces of glass, minuscule diamonds that reflected the existent and nonexistent of the enviroment. The two beings emerged, Harry with the bare body of a woman on his arms. They layed down by the moss, the comfortable and soft bed of humid dew, which licked their skins in a thirsty search for more humidity.
Harry then saw that the girl was no nymph, but a mere human of an extraordinary beauty, and a magick hidden within her that was surprisingly real yet unreachable. She smiled pleased, and coughed down with violent stiffs, shaking and convulsing until she had vomited every drop of fluid tinted with the luminity of stars.
"My lord, thank you for saving me, and forgive my indecorous forms of being before your pressence!" the woman said attempting to cover her pudour with her very own body, while seeking for her misplaced clothes.
"My pleasure lady, but tell me what such beauty is doing outside in such a dark night?" inquired Harry rather concerned and startled at the pressence of a lady in the depths of the woodlands, in such hours of the night.
"A walk to clear my confused mind!" she explained bowing lightly, and smiling rather pleasantly.
"My name is Harry Potter of Widgeton, and who are you my noble lady?" inquired the charming man, gripping her slender and, he saw, hard and callous hand, and kissing the fingers tenderly.
"Hermione Granger, I am but a peasant, hence you are the lord of our land! Forgive my manners!" she said naturally agitated. "But that brings to me the question, if I am allowed, what is such a hight representation of the power doing out here in such a dark night?" inquired the woman with her natural courage and curiosity.
"Well, I went looking for a wolf!" Harry answered with a laugh that bloomed fresh and young, and animated, while his eyes sparkled under the blinding vision of her radiant beauty.
"A wolf! They are dangerous!" the young woman snapped, yet she was nervous and agitated, and stood up alarmed, "but that reminds me it is late, and I must go!" she finished shaking vigorously.
"Wait!" Harry said gripping her arm, and taking a hold of the light creature.
The girl turned around and eyed him with a fear that startled the young boy, a genuine fear for him, not from him, and fear for herself as well.
"I must go before she comes! And you shouldn't have come since you will get in problems!" the woman hissed in an alarmed whisper that was rushed and urged, wanting to make time as short as possible.
"Will I see you again?" inquired Harry with a lastimous and saddenened look that sombered his eyes with the shadow of deception.
"Don't doubt that!" Hermione finished, and smiled bright.
The she pressed her lips against his sour ones, and Harry received a kiss like not one before. It was fresh, like nature, and strong like wilderness, with a touch of humidity from the dew and the warm magick that bloomed in the depths of the ethereal.
And they parted, but not without promising each other that the very next night they were to meet here, in this exact point, to talk, to enjoy and to love each other until the very end of their fibers. Harry was not to know that this would be the greatest adventure of his life, for it had no belic forces, no wars and no swords, but the simple pressence of their hearts merging into one, and the secret of their relation as it had to be hidden.
Mischievous and silent, slippery like vipers, the stars twinkled in a laughter so loud that their light, for it could not be heard by mortal eyes, illuminated the sky like the sudden appereance of a lightning.They spoke, and they planned, and their innocent beauty was nothing but a disguise, for stars were not cruel, but they were not noble either, but a cocktel of both.
A few of them fell from the heavens, and entered the boundaries of the small, mortal world. They were tiny faeries, but unlike the ones that inhabited the woodlands and glowed like rainbows, this faeries were formed out of an igniting, icy pale light. The wings were tails of comets, and sparkled leaving a trail of celestial dust behind their path. They looked sublime, like blessed by the light of purity, and their beauty radiated, pouring out of them in a cascade of threads of light, so thin yet so bright, like a flaming silk.
They lit the woodlands, hidden in the shadows of its proffound depths, as their flight guided them towards one place, one more magnificent and incredible than the existance of the wonders of space. A cave, engulfed in a net of a thick foliage, one of the brightest green, covered in the most transparent dew, one that sparkled in an attempt of comparing itself with the small stars that had reached the mystical location.
The cave penetrated in the side of a tall, yet green mountain. It seemed to irradiate a pale, silvery glow, and the hazy mist that floated lazily around the entrance was tinted with the sparkling of ice, and tore the flesh with the cold fangs of winter. Diamonds of cold ice seemed to have trapped faeries within the depths of their cores, for the glitter and the glow was so intense it radiated a light only comparable to that of the sun.
The stars slipped through the gaps left between the leaves, and scurried within the depths of the cave. The glow now inside was such that the stars were just sparks of shadows, left somber and insignificant in the pressence of such grandiosity.
"Lady!" twinkled a star with a silent voice, a whisper blown with the wind, and decreased into the act of a twinkle.
A woman, young and pretty like no other was seen before, stood from her bed, built out of white owl feathers, fur of foxes and wolves, of the purest snow. Her hair slipped down her skin, caressing her back, engulfing her legs and curling around her ankles in a ticklish touch. They were threads of silvery light, for nothing material could be so luminous and ethereal. Her eyes were violet, like dawn, like an aurora borealis, and swinged in colours from a pale ice, to a silvery grey, yet always returning to the mild dawn that tinted them with passion and nobility, with calm and tranquility.
Her skin was pale, a block of ice, or cold marble had been sculped into the finest features. They were the gestures of a child, mild, sweet and gentle, with thick lips, and large eyes, and a small nose that curled upwardsinnocently. They were not the sharp features of an atractive woman, yet that gentleness in her face made her more delicious, more desirable and the more fantastic creature humanity had ever seen.
"What brings you here stars?" inquired the woman smiling sweetly, and gently at her people, making the silk tunic that engulfed her sway with the batting of her arms. Her arms moved like the swaying of a ray moon filtrating through the ceiling of leaves that crowned forests.
"My Lady!" said Orion standing forward, and bowing elegantly before the lady. "And incident has occurred my Lady!" he finished his speech, for stars never spoke for long, yet allowed others to continue their concise sentences.
"One of your Children was found!" Cassiopeia explained, gesticulating widely with the twinkled she irradiated.
"A man saw her and saved her from drowning!" Sirius barked with a bright light sparkling alarmed.
"And the woman returned him with a kiss, and a promise!" Pisces, the shyest of them all, said with a passion that characterise her personality, for she was dreamy, and sensitive.
"And which of my children dares to betray me?" inquired the Lady after a few minutes of considering the stars' words and explanations, and once she had united the whole story, and made it mildly coherent to her likes.
"Hermione, my Lady!" Draco, protector of dragons, explained with sharp, straight words that voted not for hurting, yet went straight to the point, for he ferviently believed that things had to be told without riddles.
"Then Hermione will come to me inmediatly, for I will not tolerate the treason and the lie in my nest!" the young woman said, standing up straight, and showing a magesty that was grandious, and a firm courage that was envious.
Harry woke up with a tired face, with various scratches from the invisible branches, and the pressence of two anthiesthetic black rings. Hence he was radiant with happiness, his face was luminous and his smile illuminated his pale skin. His green eyes seemed to flare with the pressence of a magick, one that had been hidden and trapped within the brilliant orbs. His joy was contagious, for as he trotted and danced agily across the corridors of his castle, servants and guards smiled authomatically and some even laughed with him, sharing the bliss of his happiness.
He slipped on the brightly polished, marble floor that formed the precious dinning room, and with grace he sat at his chair, erupting in a laughter so loud and sound that soon the pictures were laughing in unision with him. Hence, a pair of brown eyes, hidden beneath a flaming mop of wild hair stared with tremor and a slight confusion, as well as an amuse that was taking control of the body.
"What makes you so cheerful Harry? Did the wolf bite you in the funny bone?" Inquired Ron rather careful and hesitant around Harry, believing ferviently in the tale of wolfmen or werewolves, which's bite transmited the terrible curse.
"What makes me cherful is that I fell in love!" Harry explained, placing his feet rather undecorously on the table, and bitting an apple with feral hunger. There was a glint in his eye, a glint that sparkled like moon and stars, a sparkle of magick.
"You fell in love with the wolf?" inquired Ron startled, and a disbelieving look of fear crossed his eyes like a movie, and soon all the tales that his mother had once told him about damsels and wolves were written in his pale, freckled skin.
"Not the wolf!" Harry snapped with a cheerful laughter that brought spring to the cold, shady castle, "I couldn't find that beautiful wolf, but I found a lady like I've never seen one, her eyes were chestnut bright, her skin was pale like snow, and her hair was brown like nature." The young landlord explained with dreamy eyes, focused in the only image that brought him joy to the miserable life he lead.
Harry, moving like a stag, with agile and quick moves, leapt from his chair and grabbed his friend from the shoulders, such strength it became painful for the poor and startled Ron. The young man froze from surprise, and stared at Harry almost as if a demency had overcome his senses, "I tell you Ron, she is a nymph!" Harry finished, attempting to make his point clear, to picture the woman for his friend.
"Harry!" Ron said lastimously, once Harry had let go of him and had returned, more peacefully, to his breakfast, "Harry, nymphs are no good, magickal creatures only bring problems." Ron finished rather sadly, eyeing his friend with worry, his stomach constracting and becoming a minuscule gap in the pit of his insides.
"My mother was an elf, in case you forgot that!" Harry snapped furiously, turning around and clenching his fist so tightly his skin was white, and his eyes glinted like venom.
"And it brought only pain to your father and to yourself! She had to leave you just to return to her people, because she couldn't be here!" Ron said worriedly, staring at his friend with the love he felt for him, for he had always been like a brother and worry crushed his heart and froze his blood.
Harry turned around fuming, and left stomping towards the door. He stormed through the door and vanished into daylight, wanting to escape the words of truth his friend was speaking.
"Harry!" Ron yelled after him before he had vanished, "You will never be able to bring magick into humans!" he finished, hoping his words had reached Harry. Ron was never to know how deep this words had sank inside Harry's coherency, and how much that dagger was to make him bleed.
"Hermione, again late! I have warned you over and over, and you keep coming late! I will shut you at home at night, like a wild animal, so you don't run out any more!" the woman said, eyeing her daughter with anger, frustration, and determination that was well known to the young lady.
"No mother, don't do that!" Hermione yelled, feeling some sort of fear making her blood become sharp ice that tore her heart and her flesh. She had almost kneeled before the plump woman, yet kept her composture and integrity, and mantained it proud.
"Why wouldn't I?" inquired the woman angrily, narrowing her eyebrows and working a false smile when a possible buyer passed by.
"Because, in our miserable life, being out at night is the only thing that makes my life a living!" the young woman said sharp and concise, and stared at the woman defiantly, making her mother know that it was best not to contradict her wishes this time.
And her mother understood, but made her own deductions, one seemed promising, the other terrifying. One was encounters with a boy of her heart, while the other was the mistery of magick. And she feared all sort of magick, specially those that happened at night, for the creatures at night were cruel and fearsome.
The two women proceeded at their work, and they began selling and working on their items to make them of the greatest quality. Hermione lifted chestnut eyes when the hooves of a flaming horse stopped by her little working place. She was thrown back mentally when her eyes submerged in the bright green, and the luminosity of elven eyes.
"Is this cheese of quality?" inquired Harry not staring at Hermione, placing his eyes on the older woman.
But a gasp of the girl made Harry startle, and inmediatly his eyes directed towards her, dressed poorly and her hair bushy, covered in twigs and leaves. And he thought he knew her, even though a glimpse of her eyes was all he had gotten before she lowered her head to her doings.
"Do I know you?" he inquired hopefully, and attempted to make the woman look up, yet it was futile for her curiosity was not greater than her intelligence and cunning.
To Be Continued…
AN: Ok, it's advancing a little more, but I am starting to like this medieval thing, don't you? I believe it's quiet a change. Anyways, I recommend you read my other great work, The Wiccan. Please, read and review.