Prologue: A Tale Intertwined

It was a breezy midsummer's day when Rhea decided to take what had become her usual stroll down by the river ferns. Gently winding her way through tall trees and other forest obstacles in her path, she regarded the silent beauty that was 'The Forest of Meab' as she went. Today would mark the eleventh year she has spent within the confines of nature and she reflected on that with a quiet sigh. Stepping over a particularly large rock Rhea faltered but swiftly stabled herself on the trunk of a nearby birch tree. She remained there, pressed against the thin silver bark for a few moments before looking back over the way she came. All she could see in the distance was row after row of silver tree trunks spread nonchalantly across the forest floor. Most of the ground was covered in small sharp rocks and one would have to be particularly careful when threading off the forest path. Almost as though she had done it again, Rhea absent-mindedly rubbed the top of her right thigh, wincing slightly at the memories of her last misadventure.

With a slight shake of her head she picked up where she left off and the ground underneath her slippered feet slowly changed from stones and soil to a soft emerald grass.

By the time Rhea reached the shallow bank of the River Lu the sun was still high in the sky and casting it's warmth across the stout ferns that littered the area. She sat herself down on the river's edge, listening to the water bubbling and tumbling over the smooth grey stones. Closing her eyes in contentment, the balmy wind crept lightly over her face. Rhea smiled as she inhaled the scent of blossoms and bark.

Rhea, who was often anything but at peace with the busy world, found herself here, deep within one of the few remaining magical forests of Ireland at the age of eighteen. (But, we'll come to that later on)

Born to a happily married couple, an English wizard named Armos Hendrick Wisterby William Dumbledore and an Irish muggle woman named Selene Heatherwind, Rhea was born on an afternoon not unlike the one today on the fourth of June. For two years the Heatherwind-Dumbledore family lived in peace but they like the world around them suddenly found themselves surrounded by the horrors of a newly risen evil - Lord Voldemort.

Rhea's story really begins on an evening just after her second birthday.

A trio of black robed wizards had broken through the front door of their small suburban home in Whistle Downs, London. Most fortunately for the occupants, they were holding a party at the time and the attendees were mostly capable wizards and witches. A dangerous magical fight ensued leaving no one dead (a blessing if ever there could be one) but many critically injured. One such person was Rhea's father, Armos.

Several months after the party all the guests had recovered and left St. Mungo's Hospital with the exception of Armos, their next door neighbour Herbam Portalin (who, being the forgetful man he is, forgot his wand that particular evening) and a Ministry of Magic Official who still hadn't woken up yet. The three Death Eaters had made their violent escape just as the officials arrived, and it was perhaps then, that Rhea first lost her faith in the Ministry.

Try, though they may, no one could discover the reason for Armos' ill health. Though completely healthy in the medical sense, he still appeared gaunt and exhausted. Also, he seemed to have lost the ability to cast spells, or even do any kind of magic - it was almost as if he had been turned into a muggle. Eventually, St. Mungo's had no choice but to release Armos and hope that getting up and about would cure whatever ailed him. But, for the rest of his life, Armos neither cast a single spell or charm.

As a result of this, Rhea spent her growing years in a completely muggle world. Whether they felt it safer this way or fate decided things should be that way, both Armos and Selene sent Rhea to school as a muggle, raised her as a muggle, let her believe she was a muggle and Rhea, in turn, considered herself the daughter of muggles - eventually forgetting altogether that she could be, or maybe was, a witch.

Still, though she never thought much of it, on her sixteenth birthday Rhea nevertheless recalled a party, attended by many people in funny clothes (carrying sticks no less) and a gentle old man with a long silver beard.

Less than a year later, Rhea's father came home in a jubilant mood, proclaiming like a mad man that the world was safe and peaceful once again. It had been a long time since Rhea could remember her father grinning and laughing like that and it filled her with a sense of joy that too was long forgotten. Because, even though her life had always been comfortable, Rhea's was anything but joyful. In complete elation, Armos insisted that the family leave the house and in his words, "Walk anywhere we want!"

Selene reluctantly agreed, though remained as quiet and reserved as she had become over the years.

That was the day Peter Pettigrew blew up half a street and went into hiding.

By the following year, many changes had occurred in Rhea's life. After being slowly led away from the wizarding world, she suddenly found herself submerged within it once more. Fearing that she was now alone in foreign lands, it was her Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Uncle who assured her that she was not. Her father had died on the sidewalk that day, while her mother was taken care of by St. Mungo's representatives. Although seriously injured the worst blow to Selene had been a mental one. No longer able to stand a life of lies or able to handle an old one involving magic, it was decided by Rhea with the comforting hand of her uncle (as she called him for simplicity's sake) on her shoulder, that her mother's memory should be erased. From that point on, Selene Deirdre Heatherwind though remaining a widow, forgot she had a daughter, and lived on her own in Wilton Ways - less than ten minutes away from her small forgotten suburban home.

Rhea had since finished her muggle schooling and with, once again, the advice of her uncle she left for Ireland to study magic in druidic forest of the High Priestess Meab at the age of eighteen.

And this is where we return to the peaceful girl still sitting by the River Lu.

Opening her warm golden eyes, Rhea was sure she felt a shift in the air around her. She slowly raised herself off the grass, distractedly dusting off her long lilac dress. Taking small composed steps along the ferns, she subtly turned her head from left to right, looking for the source of her unease; her long, silky hair tailing after her like a ribbon. It's unusual midnight blue colour shone in the fading sunlight.

'How long have I been daydreaming…?' She wondered.

Becoming increasingly agitated, Rhea narrowed her eyes in distaste before catching sight of a small tawny owl flying in her direction. A small 'Oh!' escaped her lips and her agitation quickly disappeared.

There was only one person who wrote to her.

The owl fluttered to rest at the base of one of the larger ferns. It seemed a little flustered, though perhaps it was just weatherworn. Rhea couldn't help but suppress a laugh when it gave the towering plant a venomous glance before extending it's leg with a hoot. Once she removed the letter the owl gave yet another hoot, this one considerably louder than the last, and took off with great speed. Rhea silently watched the owl disappear into the sky before straightening up and examining the emerald-inked parchment.

After carefully opening the envelope she read the letter several times, each time more certain than the last that she had misunderstood. However, by her seventh inspection, she was sure that she was correct and the facts of the letter had fully dawned on her. She was, to say the least, a little shocked.

Waiting for her, back in England, was something that she never quite expected to own - a wand.