Crystal, the tears that flow down my cheek
Crystal, the waters that bury my heart
Crystal, the maze you have made in my mind
Crystal, the walls that now keep us apart
Rhanna paused in her dash, leaning up against a wide tree sheltering the path. She took strength from its closeness, breathing in slowly until peace settled over her. She wished again that she knew how to apparate. How would she find who she needed in time? Her first thought was to go to Hogwarts, to the Headmaster – but she had no idea where it was. Somewhere in Scotland? Even if she knew, how could she walk there in a day?
And she did not even have a broom. Perhaps she could craft one? Rhanna's hope grew with the thought, then quickly died. She probably could, but it would drain the last of her strength, and she had not been on a broom since she was five. Even then, it had been sitting behind her mother.
She was stranded, without an idea what to do. "Isn't there a bus that is supposed to appear and whisk me away about now?" she asked the sky, remembering the rumor of the Knight Bus. But no headlights appeared and there was no squeal of tires on pavement. "Maybe its because 'm not official a witch." She looked down. "I don't even have my own wand." Rhanna kicked at the ground and started walking again, twisting her scarf in her hands.
Her mom had told her once about why her escape attempt failed. Failing to find a new master in time, her scarf had yanked her back to where her husband/master was. Rather like a portkey, the silvery cloth they were born with had to ability to pull them to wherever their master was.
Or, her mother had whispered this- where their perfect master would be. She had cried, that she had not been brave enough to take the risk...
Rhanna stared at the cloth in her hand. No one knew the total of its magic. But it could indeed be used as a portkey. Could she use it? Perhaps it would just take her to where her father was – but then perhaps she could get him to take back his impossible order. He probably would, once he knew just how much damage it would cause.
But – if she could find a new master? Rhanna cradled the scarf to her chest. She did love her father, in a sort of way, but she also had grown to despise him. She was kept away from the world, his servant rather than his daughter.
"Oh please," she whispered, stroking the scarf. "Take me to someone who can love me as I am. Take me to someone I can love more than life."
She held the cloth to her forehead, not really expecting anything. But if there was even a chance, that she could find a new master who could be a friend? Her tears began to wet the warm fabric.
Warm? It was warm to the touch, and growing warmer beneath her hands. She opened her eyes, and it seemed to glow.
"Wha-?" She asked, but the sound was stolen from her throat as the world began to rush away.
She thought she saw eyes as dark as midnight, but was unsure as the illusion faded into the blackness.