A/N: 'Ducks from low flying sharp objects'
Yes, HS is back, will soon be updating pervious stories, and is bringing to her estranged audience yet another fic.
Oh, and may I just congratulate JK on her fantastic book VI. Well worth the wait!
Jeez I sound so dumb…
As a little introductory note, the other chapters of this fic may not be set in this time, with the particular characters used. This is an introduction, to set the scene, but if another chapter like this is needed, I'll do one for you all. Tell me what you think.
This may seem completely unconnected to the wonderful world of Harry Potter, but stick with it, if only to the end, and all will make sense if you think about it.
Dust-covered Bloodlines
The stars hung low overhead. Mist ran in rivers, fogging the ground, hiding the path from view, yet enhancing a sky filled with the fiery pinpricks that glistened with each breath.
The contrast of clear sky and murky ground confused the figure, who was striding across the land in a confident manner. Inside, however, he was seething.
The play on the night time weather was on purpose, that he knew. It should be lighter, as late summer was overhead. And he also knew exactly who was to blame for trying to confuse his path. Yet proving this obvious meddle would be tiresome, and more prominent problems lay ahead. Like trying to survive the homeward journey, to deliver the message grasped to his chest, without falling to his death in some unseen pit, hidden by the blanket of smog, which had been laid so crudely by his and his Lord's adversaries…
A pain flashed in his chest. A stitch; true, he had spent the entire light hours and those of the night before travelling, and it had began to take its toll upon his speed. His horse, poisoned at an inn, would have sped the journey, but it was unpleasant to dwell on such matters.
Lights from the trees behind. The groans of dull explosions sped over the hills, reaching the traveller's ears from behind, as he stumbled through the mist. Those sounds were of travelling beasts from afar. He was being followed.
His breathing soon reached short gasps, as his pace quickened. Features of the land around his were becoming familiar now, he was so close, yet the stars above seemed to be dulling out, harshly rubbed out by a black hand grasping a rotten eraser.
They were coming.
A couple of steps lay between him and the boundaries, yet panic was filling his vision. He felt a hand nudge his cloak, and without warning, felt it grasp a vice like grip, pulling backwards. The traveller, who had been fumbling with his cloak fastenings seconds before now wrenched open the clip as he felt the beast pull. Heart racing, he took the final step over the border into his Lord's land, letting his cloak fall into the beast's arms, as it screamed in despair. It could not touch him now.
"Theron! You made it!"
"But of course, My dear Dallen! Let a brush with a beast hamper my efforts to show off? I think not!"
The two men embraced, stood in the entrance hall of the Manor. The vast stones of the walls whispered greetings to the traveller, and spoke of the gossip of the court. Theron thanked the voices, giving the nearest stone an encouraging pat.
"Come, your father will be waiting in the chambers."
"Why so? Surely it is the banquet tonight?"
"Are you serious? Banquet whilst the Lord's son himself faces peril? Surely you jest." Dallen winked as they climbed the stairs. "Not even a slice of swan has passed the court's lips since your departure five days since. How could we celebrate, knowing the dangers outside these lands? And since we found word of a court horse dead…"
The men reached a doorway along a deserted landing; two oak panelled doors intricately carved with the rearing of lions swung open, and they passed without questions from the guards on either side.
Inside a roaring fire barely contained within the huge grate pulled the men closer; they halted at the foot of an occupied chair beside it, and kneeled.
"Arise, Theron, Dallen." They both did. "Theron, my son, your return to court is a great relief.Was the message passed on?"
"Yes Father, I handed it to her myself. She sends her regards, and will pass the scroll on. Here is her reply."
Theron handed over the battered scroll. Dallen glimpsed the seal stamped with the wax imprint of a raven, before it was broken open, and the contents read.
Theron's father sat for a moment, mulling over the letter's contents. He spoke minutes after.
"Our old allegiance is still as strong… Since the beginning we always knew he would be our downfall. But accept it we did."
"But father! You have not failed! It is merely his own greed that has brought his own expulsion, and he should remember that when uttering such threats!"
"Indeed, yet chivalry was not his strong point. We other three knew that from the start, yet hoped it would not bring about an issue.Yet you hold the very heart of a lion within, do you not my son?"
Theron nodded. The old man seated turned to Dallen.
"Dallen. You, as my nephew, are a second son of me and this court. I thank you now for your support you have given my son throughout these years, and pray you will be at his side for the years of his rule yet to come. Now leave these chambers, for your own. Tomorrow marks the end of today…"
After simple bows, and a kiss on a forehead from father to son, the two men left the chambers as the doors slowly closed behind.
The two men passed along a corridor in deep thought. Finally Dallen spoke.
"Your father looks weak Theron."
"I agree. I fear his time is near. She, when I passed on the scroll Father wrote also looked worn. I believe the lives of the four are all but spent." Dallen gasped as Theron spoke.
"But what of-"
"I, along with the four other heirs, if it is truly the end, will carry on Hogwarts in their name…"
This won't be a one-shot; I'm interested to hear what you think about it.
H-S