"This cheese is of the greatest quality, my lord!" the plump woman said respectfully, smiling falsely yet widely at the young Harry, and offering with her thick, rough hands the round cheese.
"Thank you, but I think I'll be coming later!" Harry snapped abruptly, staring at the woman as if he had just woken up there, and ignored the reasons why he was in such place, or even speaking with this shopkeeper.
Pulling Stag's left rein, he made the animal turn around, and, with a pressure of his heels, the animal was off at a slow trot, across the busy streets of the marketplace. Green eyes stared back, attempting hopelessly to steal a single glance from the precious being, hoping with all his might that his search had come to an end, and his land was to have heritage. That was the least important of his objectives, but he had found happiness, or so he hoped, and that was worth a thousand heirs.
"You called for me?" Hermione said in a shaky voice, looking down and avoiding staring at the brilliant figure before her.
"I did, Hermione!" the beautiful woman said, her voice a song, a flow of the wind, something ethereal, that could not be touched, and so faint it could not be heard, yet sensed in the depths of one's being.
"What did you want from me?" the girl inquired, kneeling, curved and looking down, and the glass that reflected herself, her eyes, deep and intelligent, her hair, bushy and silky, threads of tan clouds.
"I have heard of you granting your heart to a human!" the lady said in a voice that was not angered, only deceived.
"It is true I have fallen in love My Lady!" Hermione said resigned, for it was futile and dangerous to attempt at lying at someone who was a godess, "but please, do not harm him, for he is innocent!" Hermione plead, daring to stare at the woman.
"I won't harm him, because he doesn't know about our rules, Hermione, neither will I do any bad to you, my precious Hermione!" the lady began, yet it left a request hanging in the air, for nothing a God gives can be for free.
"What do you want from me?" the young woman, knowing the Lady, asked resigned, ina dull, tired voice.
"You can love him as much as you want, however at night, when I am high up in the sky, your heart belongs to me and only me, understood?" the Lady explained in a determined, loud voice that boomed like that thunder.
"I understand!" Hermione said in a slightly happier voice, relieved that se was allowed to sink to her human nature, and could love like any girl her age was supposed to do.
"If you are to receive one single kiss, love kiss, from him or any man that is to love you, when I'm high up in the sky, you will become a wolf forever!" the Lady told Hermione sharp and concise, it was a contract that could not be broken, or negotiated. It was her will, and as such it would be.
"I got it!" Hermione said with an strangled voice, for fear was stabbing her heart like a dagger or cruel, dented edges.
"Hermione, my child, do not try go to him, make him come to you!" the Lady said, engulfing the woman in luminous arms of ethereal light, silver skin which had taken the shape of slender, delicious arms.
"NO! That won't be fair for him! I will never make him come to this!" Hermione yelled angered, getting rid of the woman's grip, and staring at her with something close to alarm and frustration.
"Hermione, my child, don't you understand it is a gift what I have given to you? What you were granted with the day you were conceived?" the Lady explained, staring at the woman with kind, gentle eyes, and a warm, calid stare that pointed out she truly cared for the girl.
"GIFT? It's a CURSE! I can't love! I can't lead a normal life! I can't be human, nor wolf! THIS IS NO GIFT!" Hermione growled angrily, baring her fangs and snarling at the Lady, then looking down at herself lastimously.
Before the gentle Moon could react to the events, Hermione had stormed out of her lair, into the daylight, vanished in a wind of tan fur. As soon as the sun received her with the calid rays, and the warm light of gold had stolen streaks of flaming luminosity from her fur, Hermione became human in a blink. She didn't stop however, but ran as quickly as she could, escaping the cave that made her different, that made her life double, hence she could not lead a normal life, neither woman, neither wolf.
She sat before the lake and examined her reflection in the calm, crystal water. Her eyes, two proffound coals of a dark brown. Her hair framing the face tenderly with threads of tan silk. Her lips, fleshy and thick, a cherry treat of sweet gentleness and sour doubts. She was not ugly, but was not a beauty, perhaps because she looked like and was a peasant. Maybe it was because she was sad, desperate, and it reflected in her skin, in her face and features. Or perhaps it was because she was not whole, but two different halves merged in one, and due to that the features of one reflected on the other, making her different.
"I can see the eyes of the wolf!" she said sadly, staring with teary eyes into the water, seeing the surface ripple when her tear fused with the crystal clear water, that was sweet and fresh like snow.
"Hermione?" said a terribly familiar voice behind the young girl, one that showed confusion, yet delight at one, one that was startled yet cheerful at the same time.
She turned around quickly, startled and rather ashamed at her carelessness. How hadn't she heard the enormous beast that stood before her was a miracle, yet her sadness occupied the integrity of her mind, hence she could only think about the worry she was experiencing. But there he was, standing tall and proud, magestik, was Harry, mounting his horse with enormous grace, yet looking down with confusion and a very enormous happiness. His face was alit, it irradiated a light that could not be described, yet emanated a warmth that was contagious and flowed across the athmosphere, heating the cold evening.
"Harry!" the young girl snapped alarmed, and stared at the horse, attempting to see further away, into the heights of such beast to stare at the pretty face of her love.
"What are you doing here?" Harry exclaimed dismounting agily.
The horse, upon feeling the comfortable weight of security leave him, snorted and huffed, pawing on the ground nervously, and tossing the beautiful head. The halter and reins chimmed like minuscule bells, like faerie chatt, yet far less melodic, and more roughly and harshly. Those were sounds she was used to hearing, for she had owned an old mare of her property, and she had used reins and saddle as well.
"Why are you here?" Harry inquired once again, staring at the woman and extending the free hand, while the other took a firm grip on the animal's reins.
"I came for a walk!" Hermione said nervously, and hurriedly, her eyes leaving the contact with the green orbs and seeking the sky for the dangerous pressence.
"What makes you so agitated?" Harry asked again, staring at her, and retreated the hand that had been refused, making him feel empty and cold in a brief, slight trace.
"Harry, listen to me very clearly!" Hermione explained, staring sharply and determined at him, "I love you with all my heart Harry, but there are some things you must do for me if you love me back!" she finished very sharp and determined, concise and straight to the point.
"What are these?" he asked worriedly, staring at the woman strangely and concerned.
"First, don't ask questions. Second, I will belong to you, as long as the moon is not bright on the sky. Third, if the moon is to be high, don't come looking for me!" Hermione finished with a sigh, and her eyes stared at the man's confused expression, while her heart tore into million pieces.
"If you love me, do such!" Hermione said upon receiving silence.
Stag legs carried her off into the foliage, for the night was beginning to extend its veil across the world. The moon, activated by the call of the stars, leapt up high and flew into the sky, where it glided, vigilant, luminous and proud of the awe and poetry her mere pressence inspired. But for Harry, her pressence only derivated into sadness and hathred, and he cursed that who her mother once told must be worshipped as source of all magick.
The days that followed had been empty, and Harry had been mournful, sad and silent. There was an athmnosphere of depression, a sadness hanging thick in the air, and Harry, affected by elven blood, was pale and sick, and weak. His weakness was such that he had fallen off his horse, being Stag at a gentle trot. The animal had been startled, and frightened, and the state of guilt and nerves he was at made it hard for Ron to control him.
Harry had finally decided to lay in bed, waiting for his recovery. His eyes would always stare out at the sky, specially at night, when he would curse the moon for the terrible faith she had granted him.
"What makes you so thoughtful Harry?" Ron inquired one clear night, when the moon filtrated and sneaked past the open window, and caressed the pale face tenderly.
"Nothing, Ron, go and allow me some sleep!" Harry said in a weak voice, but one severe enough that it easily denoted his wish was to be complied.
Ron insisted no more, and turning around, he retired from the room, leaving Harry in his terrible pain. Ron sighed, and tears escaped his eyes, for he knew he had elven blood, and his crushed heart was killing him. The red haired man left to his chambers, and there he lied, in a restless sleep where dreams of lost and sadness, dreams where a wolf of ultimate beauty accompained by a nymph appeared.
A bark startled Harry, still glaring at the moon, stillplacing all his fury on the bright orb of ethereal light. One that was not familiar, but that made his heart light and bright. His weakness vanished inmediatly, and he found strength blooming in him as long as hope floewered into brightness, like the mischievous stars. He stood up from his bed and ran towards the window, poking his head out and investigating the outsides.
Fresh air slapped his face playfully, and the moon welcomed him outside with a hopeful tugging into his moral. Below his window Harry saw the maker of such gentle barks. The wolf he had met long ago called for him, urged him down, wagging the fluffy tail and smiling through her lips. There was a glint in her deep, brown eyes, one that was admiration, and the shadow always present of the moon's pressence.
Bare feet padded on the moist, cold grass. The threads of frozen ice broke under his weight, and stones and pieces of razor ice tore and slashed his flesh, oppening minuscule wounds and gashes that bled profusely. But Harry ignored such inconvenient, for the vision of his wolf filled him with a renewed life and joy, and urged him to go on with the life that was, slowly, consuming in his pain.
The wolf barked happily, and trotted happily to him. They both merged in a hug, Harry finding an incoherent comfort in the warmth of her fur, and the feeling of her intelligent eyes talking to him. The wolf lolled her tounge, and licked his cheek, happily, yet kept a vigilant eye on the treacherous moon.
However, the moon herself was satisfied with the wolf and the elven boy, for she did nothing but smile from the heights, and nod grattified. She was hopeful the wolf would drag Harry into the side of the moon, rather than leaving his half blood consuming him into a destiny that was expected for all humans. The moon was not cruel, nor evil or treacherous, but wanted the best for her children, like a mother to her child, althought, at times, this children ignore the good this orders contain.
"What brought you here Wolf? You remember me, don't you?" Harry asked, patting the wolf's side, and smiling widely at the beautiful creature.
"Come to the lake when the moon lays down!" the wolf seemed to say, in a voice that boomed within Harry's mind.
The boy was startled, and his eyes seeked within the creature, searching for any trace of humanity. However, he found so many traces of humanity laying latent in the wolf's depths, that Harry recoiled startled, and it almost seemed like speaking to a wolf was natural and normal. He remembered, however, he was half elf, and as such he must have inherited numerous virtues from his noble mother.
The wolf turned around and trotted off, back into the woodlands, vanishing like a spirit through the mist that floated lazily, engulfing the trunks and gliding past the leaves and branches. Harry saw her retreat with an anguish strangling him, yet a hope shone within his spirits, illuminating the whole area with the intense light he irradiated. And a smile like no other was curling his lips tenderly, mild but extremely obvious from the dream that sparkled in his expresion.
Stag galloped into the night, his coat blazing under the tender touch of the star's light. Mist oppened and parted in waves to allow the passage through the corridors it formed so delicately. The trees that towered grandious over them bowed at their path, allowing the intrusion into the lands without inquiries nor trials of any sort. Faeries accompained their journey, and creatures that could not be seen by day, or by human eyes appeared into the depths.
Harry saw wolves that were wolves, then were humans, then wolves again, as light touched them or somber shadows engulfed them. He saw birds that were lions, and flames that were birds, and horses made out of light and with horns sharp like swords. Slithering between the foliage were sinuous tails which ended in enormous, winged bodies of dragons. And all of this creatures had united in a reception of curious and concerned beings.
And there he saw her, creature beautiful over all others, smiling with a curve that was pure light, and shinning with the silver glow of the moon itself. The Lady had layed down a while ago, yet the argent glitter of her rays seemed to persist, inmersed within the skin of the beautiful girl.
Harry dismounted and approached the woman with a dreamy smile, and a hazy veil of fog that crossed his vision, focusing only on that which he wanted, ferviently, to see. And he hugged her without allowing any words interrupting their precious moment. Their mouths fused, the silk of her cherry lips against the rough salt of his own lips. Their passion ignited with the fire of true love, consuming their hearts, forging out of the ashes a single, stronger one that was to be shared by both. Both souls danced until melting within another, and they sealed a silent pact, one that was acorded only by the silence of their feelings.
"One intelligent idea, sending your wolf to guide me here, yet I wonder how you made her talk!" Harry commented, now thirsty of curiosity.
"All animals can be understood, yet by the ear that wants to listen!" Hermione responded with a luminous smile, and a glint of knowledge sparkling, like a star, within her eye.
"Hermione, why don't you want our love to ocur during moon rises? Are you a Witch?" Harry inquired concerned, eyeing the woman with curiosity.
"Harry, I said no questions, hence leave it that way!" Hermione said tersely, flinching at the questiong and avoiding eye contact with the green, elven eyes.
And although Harry's curiosity was great, a pang of concern, and the ice cold feeling of fear tore his skin with the cruel, bloodthirsty fangs. He eyed the young girl, seeing not a woman, but a creature of utmost beauty, one that, like himself, was the child born out of magick. A woman that was covered by a veil of darkness, as luminous as the moon herself, yet engulfing and protecting a secret that, wonderful like the miracle of life, was terrible and dangerous. It was a gift, and it was a curse, but Harry couldn't know, for he only deduced her hesitation, and ignoed the true nature of her fears.
Beautiful eyes the colour of ice, and such cold nature they hid within the transparent depths, for the bearer was a fierce warrior, like the dog his name represented. Yet, as such dog, he was loyal and faithful, and a friend like no other could exist. Black hair, wild and unruly, left to blend in with the rough fur of woodland canines, glowed with the silver blaze that only sun knew how to tear from such a midnight hair.
"My good Harry, what concerns you for I se trouble in your eyes, once so bright and now dull with worry!" inquired Lord Sirius Black of Moorenyse, eyeing his godson with worry and concern.
Harry layed on his matress, his green eyes attatched to the cold ceiling, which's grey stones seemed to have caught a valuable interest in his person. The nobleman knew well that the pressence of his Godfather had been impulsed by his loyal friend, Ron. He had noticed the worry the young redhead had felt lately, hence rushed to speak with the protector of the elven boy when he could pull no word from his lips. But I consider pointing out that Sirius was always worried for his godson, although matters of love long escaped his attention, and the boy had always been dark and misterious, so he didn't notice the dark veil that covered his soul with terrible worry.
"Sirius, I have been seeing a woman lately!" Harry snapped, concisely and straight to the point, and without entering in complicated explanation about the radiant beauty of her person.
"Those are wonderful news, what makes you so somber then?" inquired the noble Sirius, worried at what should have been a joyous declaration.
"She is beautiful, young and smart. But she does things that link her with my mother's world!" Harry explained, drowned in despair and worry, and a fear of loss that froze every single drop of his calid blood.
"What sort of things?" inquired Sirius, his voice trembling slightly, leaving a note of true worry hanging in the dense, afternoon athmosphere.
"She walks by night, and has told me our meetings can be always except on days of full moon, but she won't tell me her reasons!" Harry whinned deceived and greatly concerned, for he ignored what terrible being or event attached his loved one to the radiant moon.
"Then pursue her at night, and find out why she is binded to the moon in such tight chains!" Sirius explained wisely, and eyeing Harry with a glint in his eyes that showed complice and mischief.
"I just don't want to loose her to magick, like I lost my beloved mother!" Harry said lastimously, staring at Sirius with a saddened gaze.
"You won't!" Sirius said with a smile that denoted care and hope for the young Landlord.
Harry smiled radiantly, and thanked Sirius with the gentle expression of affection that seemed to warm his skin and bring colour to his face, while making his features tender and calid like a spring morning. While Sirius suspected Hermione a Witch, his godson knew well he could trust him, for secrets were to be kept, for his very own sake. The dog man had done such with his father, James, protecting the elven maiden that was his wife, and he protected the half elven Harry. Now he would protect the sorceress girl Harry had fallen in love with.
The coat of Stag blazed like an igniting coal under the touch of feeble, light rays that sneaked past the sky. Harry was concentrated in the figure before him, one that trotted like a doe, escaping through the foliage while she ignored her pursuer. She was agile and light like a vixen, and was careful and attentive, as well as silent like a wild cat. Hence all the attention she put in her escape to the depths of nowhere, the hunter Raven followed her on the backs of his altive stallion, at a pace that was natural and silent.
Hermione stopped at a clearing, and her eyes sparkled to the sky like millions of stars trapped in her humid cheeks. Salt flowed in liquid form down the streams of her face, following each gentle curve her terse skin formed. Her heart was crushed and tore, and a cold feeling filled her soul and froze her very blood. Her expression was sad, depressed, full of a despair that could not be healed with medicines or herbs, not even the powerful magick could do anything for her.
"Why are you doing this to me? I can't keep lying to him!" Hermione yelled at the wind, her voice a desperate scream strangled with sobs of her sadness.
The boy dismounted agily as soon as he perceived the terrible sadness that attacked the woman visiously, opening terrible gashes in her integrity. His eyes widdened lightly when the words reached his ears, but ignoring all advice, ignoring all the coherent words his mind spoke, Harry emerged from the protection of the thick foliage into the clearing.
"Hermione!" he called worried, running towards her.
The stunned woman had no time to react when the young man had engulfed her in a prottective hug. She tensed in his arms, and eyed the sky with fear, scanning it like a wild animal which has sensed danger, yet ignores the origin of his fears. She attempted to pull away, but was frozen by the surprise, and melted in the calid, protective hug.
"Harry!" she snapped, recovering common sense, and waking up from the dream she had, momentarily, submerged in. "Harry, you can't be here, the moon will rise in brief moments!" Hermione called alarmed, in a terrified voice.
"Hermione, I am here with you, ok? You can trust me, nothing will happen to you!" Harry said desperately, eyeing her with green, elven eyes full of love and admiration.
"No Harry, you don't understand it, the consequences will be terrible if the moon catches you here! Return to the village, I will see you when the moon goes to rest!" Hermione said, a weak, last attempt to make the boy leave the location, finding out her terrible secret, and endangering both.
Harry eyed her in a feeble attemp to convince her of his trust, yet gave in to the terror he found in the beautiful, brown eyes. Smiling, he did the only thing he should have never done, the only thing that lost both of them into the despairs and cruel hands of destiny and jealowsy. Harry leant down and placed his lips against the cherry ones of the girl, kissing her in a demonstration of love, care, and expectation of what was to happen when the moon layed back on her slumber.
The Lady had chosen that moment to emerge, on her full magesty, bright with the pure, silver light that characterised her, and glowing so intensely day seemed to have returned to the woodlands of the Celtic North. She was in a good mood, for the day had been calm and pleasant. Then she admired all her children as they became wolves, affected by the tender touch of her luminous hand, caring and gentle like a mother's.
Then she saw her favourite one, the cunning, smart Hermione, embraced to the one she admitted to love, and whom she was granted to love equally, except during the nights when the moon was high. She saw their lips fusing into the true, love kiss, and the moon was jealows and angered. Her light grew more intensely, until all perceived was a flash of light so bright that the bats, permanent worshippers of the Lady, became blind.
"You betrayed me Hermione!" her voice boomed angry and loud, like a thunder, and like such did the people consider it, and were bewildered to see a sky so clear, and a moon so bright.
"It was an accident, My Lady!" Hermione excused herself, yet full of terror and fear, her eyes straying to those of her love.
Hary stared at the moon, wild with surprise and a slight fear that tugged at the end of his gentle heart. He stared then at Hermione, inquiring, and worried, terribly worried for her. He placed his hands on her hips, embracing her tightly against his chest, and staring at the moon defiantly, for she could not ignore that he was half elf after all.
"He chould have not been here Hermione! I gave you full permission to love him with one mere condition, and you go disobeying my word!" The moon thundered again with a boming sound that reminded Harry to the fragor of battlefield, the clashing of weapons, the stomping of hooves, the roar of hathred.
"It will never happen again! I swear for all wich is pure!" Hermione called terrified, now shaking like a stag being pursued, one that was cornered and had no hopes of escaping.
Harry braced her tighter, and whispered soothing words of safety at her ear, still defying the moon on doing anything that could split their love, for it was something so pure and strong it could not be split apart.
"I explained you the punishment you will have if you disobeyed me, Hermione!" the moon said with sadness, yet a note of rejoice could be sensed in the air, of a natural pleasure and delight that was not cruel, simply natural.
"No, please! I beg you!" Hermione said collapsing to her knees, and begging with all her might, throwing her dignity aside only for a brief hope of evading the punishment that so correctly, and cruelly at the same time had been imposed to her.
"I'm sorry my little child!" the moon said lastimously, eyeing her from the heavens with a sort of compassion that almost impulsed her to redeem her noble actons, guided only by a true heart.
Then, Hermione collapsed to the floor, and felt the pain suffered so often, yet one that she was used to. This time, however, it hurted terribly, for this pain came not from the body, but from the very depths of her heart and soul.
Harry pounced forward in order to hold her, to comfort her. His eyes were wild with fear. His voice had vanished, abandoned him to leave a silent yell of worry and fear. But all his actions were stopped, frozen like his bones and muscles, yet stopped by the blinding flash of silvery white light that engulfed the woman.
It had never ocurred before, hence Hermione had never been punished before either. This was the key that confined her into her jail of liberty and freedom. One jail that made the whole world belong to her, yet the world she desired, one insignificant gaia escaped her reach. Such was the punished.
As the glow faded, and the light conjured by the moon had vanished, Harry's mouth gapped open, and his eyes widdened with the shock this vision inspired. There she was, laying exhausted on the matress of moist grass, his wolf. Her thick fur the colour of chestnut, her eyes so brown and intelligent, so deep and cunning. Her eyes, Hermione's eyes.
And then Harry understood, filled with a terror and an anguish he had never experience before,one that drained him of all energy and soul, he saw that Hermione was one of the Moon's Children. She was one of the humans that turned to wolves, often thought to have been bloodthirsty and cruel. Now he saw the truth, for the precious being that layed lastimously and depressed before him was such a gentle and noble creature. But she was a wolf.
Deep inside him, Harry knew she would be a wolf forever, for such was the punishment.
Harry recoiled when the wolf's gaze reached him. He was not disgusted, nor terrified or frightened, but simply disenchanted. His memory relieved the terrible feelings of loneliness and proffound sadness when his mother had left for the woodlands, for a city that could not be found by mortal eyes. Yet again was the story repeating itself, this time with the creature he loved more than his very own life.
The wolf whimpered upon seeing his reaction, her eyes saddened, and glittering with a humidity that resembled tears. She thought he repuded her like something filthy and worthless, yet the look that glinted in the depth of Harry's eyes told her otherwise. She knew he suffered, she saw the intense pain that burnt his crushed heart, for it had shattered in million pieces, each of them tearing him from inside like particles of glass. Such was his very own curse, for elven hearts hurted when love was not corresponded, and such was the suffering they often perished. But Harry would not perish, for he had only half elven blood, hence his suffering would be a torture that would last until the end of his days, days that were long and distant.
Harry then turned around, his eyes streaming with tears that were profuse, transparent and flowed freely. He escaped the reality, he escaped the inevitable, he wanted to flee from that terrible destiny his only joy in life had suffered. Leaping agily on the back of his stallion, Stag, the beast galloped off, and was soon lost in the depths of the forest, drowned in a hazy misty of a pale colour tinted with silver.
Hermione then raised her head to the moon, and howled. The first howl any wolf was to give ever in time. It was a mournful cry, a proffound call that was nothing but the terrible pain her heart was feeling, being released to the wind. The howl was terrible, yet beautiful, a saddened song of broken love, of wilderness jailed, of joyous sensations and delighted memories vanished.
It was the howl of the wolf.
Due to such terrible cry, the moon, which had always been full and powerful, lost a piece of herself, and began decreasing in size. Day by day, the moon's sorrow grew such that her size diminished until she vanished, in the depths of her cave to cry herself into a well deserved rest. It caused a conmotion, for the howl and the moon's disappereance seemed to proclaim the end of the world, hence it was only the beginning of the world we know today.
Ever since that day, the moon grows in size into the sky, regaining all her power and strength, all her magesty. Every time the moon is full, wolves of all places join in a chant of lost love, of sorrow and broken hearts. They sing for the memory of the first wolf that ever howled, and every time the moon listens to the mournful chorus, she is reminded of the crime she once commited, when she was young and mindless. Hence every time the wolves howl, the moon looses all the strength regained, and she decreases.
And such is the story of the first wolf that ever howled.
The End.
AN: Ok finished, and I think it's one of the best stories I've ever written. Well, lets see what happens with the Wiccan, which I'm liking greatly too. Well,hope you enjoyed and please, leave a review.