Trust, such a thing is so highly exalted
Trust, so elusive like sand through the sieve
Trust, one another? Betrayals must happen
Trust is the lie we all want to believe
To Rhanna, it seemed as if the space around her was trying to tear her apart. She could not see; perhaps her eyes were still closed. But she felt herself swirling and being tossed about like muggle children played with their toys. From the times she had been apparated by her father, it had never been like this. The 'fall' through space was growing increasingly more painful, at one point fire laced up her arm as if her shoulder was being pulled. Her mother had never even hinted at anything like this!
Then a strong smell of chemicals washed over her, and her body crashed against something warm but unsteady. Another person? She mused as she blacked out once more.
If being pulled through space was disorientating, the chaos upon waking was even more so. Sound returned to hear, deafening. Voices were talking, shouting, screaming. She smelt smoke, and felt cold stone beneath most of her body. Her head seemed to be lying on something soft, while there was a searing pain in one of her legs. Her mind barely had registered this when she found that the screaming she was hearing was her own voice.
Then the shouts quieted somewhat, and a door opened. Something soothed the pain in her leg and her screaming ended, replaced by hoarse sobs. Rhanna found that her eyes finally were responding, at the very moment she noticed something sharp like a stick was held to her throat.
Coughing, Rhanna opened her lids. The wizard with his wand to her throat had clear blue eyes that seemed not to fit with his elderly body. Was he the one she had been pulled to? Inwardly she shrunk a bit. She hoped not.
Next her eyes darted about the chamber. It was brightening, as some witch was casting spells on the room. Two children were arguing with her, but Rhanna moved on. The pain in her leg was more immediate.
It appeared something had cut a great slash into her left calf, nearly to the bone, and had cauterized the wound at the same time. A pile of robes was smoking on the ground near her, hence the smell. And behind them, in the last dark corner – a boy? A young man, holding a sword that looked all too familiar.
A grunt from near her caused Rhanna to look at what she was lying on. A man! She started and moved to sit up, which the old wizard let her. Apparently she had fallen on someone, and they were unconscious. His head was turned to the side, but his dark hair and black robes did give a clue. Rhanna had the sense that this was Severus Snape, whom she had studied some. Perhaps he was the one? She shivered again, but perhaps it was the cold. And yet, she felt comforted by the thought briefly.
"Where am I?" Rhanna asked softly, then realized she was not clutching her scarf. Had something gone wrong? Where was it?
"A better question, who are you?" The old man asked, warily but with a hint of kindness in his voice.
"The wards are back up, for now." The older witch interrupted. "How she got in I have no idea."
"She's after Harry!" The red head youth blurted out, escaping the witch's grasp to run over to the boy in the corner with the sword. "You all right mate?"
"'S ok Ron, I think I got her worse than she got me." Still, the boy was eying her warily.
"Your name, child?" The old man asked again.
"Craftmistress Rhanna Ablator, I presume?" The man on the floor stirred to face her, his lips tight. "I have no need of this." Rhanna found her silver scarf being shoved into her hands, and she trembled under the man's gaze. He looked none too happy. But he had had the scarf! Which meant he should, theoretical, be the one she should choose as master.
"The girl from the sword shop?" The old man raised his eyebrows, then dropped his gaze to the scarf in her hands. He looked puzzled for a moment, then the light of memory seemed to steal into his eyes. "Could that be how you passed the wards of Hogwarts?" He murmured, reaching out to touch the scarf.
Rhanna reflexively pulled it away, causing the red head to pull his wand on her.
"Don't you dare make any sudden moves!" The boy hollered.
"Is that?" The other young women in the room stepped forward and held her hand out. This time, Rhanna let her feel the cloth. "But it can't be."
Snape stood, dusting himself off. "Not every shiny cloth is a legend, Granger." He half-snarled. "But in this case, yes. I believe we have stumbled upon the impossible."
"Merely improbable." The old man countered, offering a hand to Rhanna. "Rhanna, is it?"
"Yes." Rhanna took it, wincing as she stood.
"I told you she should Not be standing on that wound!" The old witch came over. "I took some of the pain away but that doesn't mean – wait, how IS she standing with a broken leg?"
"Not to worry Pomfrey." The old man chuckled. "Her kind heal quickly. Harry, do come out of your corner and introduce yourself. I'm sure she does not blame you for your reflex."
"Sorry." The boy came over, and she saw him properly for the first time. The scar, he must be Harry Potter. And he held the plasma sword she had crafted. "I'm Harry. I just heard a crash and you came out of the sky, I thought you were a Death – someone attacking Snape. I swung, and well, I got your leg. But you seem to be all right."
"Harry!" The girl shrieked. "All right? Her leg is covered in blood!"
"I will be fine." Rhanna closed her eyes briefly. "I should give you all an explanation – I did not know I would end up here. It was a desperate attempt, I-"
"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts." The old man interrupted. "You have met our Potion's Master Severus Snape, and this kindly woman here is Madam Pomfrey. Harry's two friends are Hermione and Ron, who apparently were waiting just outside the door, and came in yelling when they heard the crash."
"Nice to meet you all." Rhanna ducked her head.
"I've never met a, a nymph before." Hermione's mouth was wide open.
"Dryad." Rhanna admitted quietly. "Though it is not something I advertise."
"I should think not." Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, your secret is safe with us. But why ARE you here?"
"I was looking - "
"I will not be your master, girl." Snape intoned, his voice quiet but seeming to fill the room. With that, he turned and stalked over to what appeared to be his desk.
"Master?" Hermione snorted. "You can't own a nymph. You can keep them captive, but you cannot order them about like house elves."
"Who would want that bloody git as a master anyway?" Rhanna heard Ron whisper to Harry.
"Harry." Dumbledore turned to the boy. "This woman claims, and I believe her, that she crafted the sword you hold. She could be an invaluable asset to our cause. She can enter dangerous places, make weapons, defy most curses, protect you with her life – if she served you."
"Served me?" Harry squeaked.
"Stupefy." Dumbledore said without warning, casting the spell on Rhanna. She just blinked in response. "Petrify, stun, such spells do not work on her kind. Some curses, and some charms will, but it all their innate defense is very high. Her arriving here is a blessing."
"Yes, I am sure a servant of her caliber is exactly what Potter needs." Snape announced sarcastically then went back to sulking.
"What do you say Harry? Would you be willing to take Rhanna as your servant? It is not an easy task, for she will be bound to you and all your orders. It is a great responsibility to command a Dryad." Dumbledore was smiling broadly now, and Rhanna felt her stomach churn. Sure, the boy was nice enough, but she did not wish to be a slave to someone no older than herself.
"She's not an object!" Hermione interjected. "She shouldn't be serving anyone! She's not some slave!"
"But." Rhanna stopped the girl with a hand on her shoulder. "That is exactly what I am. My family line has been cursed for generations, to be slaves to humans. And if I do not find a new master soon, I will be pulled back to my father."
The clock struck ten, and Rhanna grimaced. Power was ripped from her, using the dungeon stones and bits of moss for its work. "I have little time!" she cried out, as the floor began to heave and Harry took a step back, staring. "My last order was to create the third sword." She looked directly at Snape, and unwillingly he locked eyes with her. "Your sword, isn't it?"
Snape nodded as Rhanna collapsed to the floor, unable to remain standing, chunks of the ceiling now falling to join the tornado in the middle of the room. "I can't." She gasped out, clenching her teeth against the pain. "I don't – have the strength." She hung her head, no longer willing to lock eyes with Snape.
"You do not have to finish it now, if you can't." Dumbledore patted her on the head.
"I only have till midnight." Rhanna's voice was very audible. "And I have no time left."
"Harry." Dumbledore motioned the boy forward again. "There is no shame in it. She needs a master, and if one is not found quickly she may be hurt badly. She may even die."
"But she can't be someone's slave!" Hermione insisted. "Harry, you can't!"
"If Dumbledore says its all right..." Harry looked anything but convinced, and cowered under Hermione's glare.
Rhanna shook her head no, but she could no longer spare the strength for speech. He might be the 'Boy Who Lived' – but she was not keen on the idea of him being her master. It just felt wrong.
"No." Harry shook his head finally. "I would rather die than lose my freedom- I can't take hers."
Dumbledore sighed. "Then I will have to." He stepped closer, and Rhanna shrunk away from him.
"But she looks scared..." Ron said finally. "Maybe Hermione could?"
"Granger is female." Snape sneered and stood, watching the movement of the stones intently. Rhanna was focused on them now, her hands moving in strange gestures, weaving the magic.
"Wow, really?" Hermione scoffed under her breath. "What about you Ron? I mean we do not HAVE to treat her like a servant and all..."
"She is an asset to the Order." Dumbledore said grimly. "Her nature is to serve. If we deny her that – it would be like denying a House Elf work."
"Well they shouldn't be slaves either!" Hermione stomped her foot.
"I'll do it." Ron offered again.
"No." Dumbledore seemed against the idea. "It will have to be me." He took his wand and scratched it along the palm of his hand, cutting gently until a line of blood was visible. He held out his palm and smiled. "Come girl, and then you can rest."
Rhanna steeled herself to show no emotion, even as she held her hand before her eyes and watched the barest cut grow there.
"Are you sure Rhanna?" Hermione begged. "I'm sure you are more than a slave. You must be able to choose!"
"Choice." Rhanna whispered, slowly extending her hand. She had to have a master, it was the way things had to be. But, he was not the one she had been pulled to. She had the feeling that there was no happiness down this path.
"Don't be frightened." Dumbledore assured her, slowly reaching for her wrist.
"Master." Rhanna said under her breath. Could she call this man master? No. Turning, she knelt before a startled Snape. "Master." She said again, louder, her eyes locked with his. "I swear my fealty to you and you alone. If you will not accept my service, I will return to my former home and take the consequences."
"Foolishness." Dumbledore shook his head. "Please child, you would have a home here."
"Master Snape, please." She tried to keep her voice steady, holding her palm up.
"Craftmistress - " Snape tried to move away, but Rhanna clasped his outer cloak and he did not force the matter.
"Rhanna." She knelt motionless, save the shimmer in her eyes. "I will follow your orders. I can heal and I can forge. I will do what I can to serve you, and stay out of your way when you do not want me. I am a quick learner and I can organize and cook and I will protect you with my life."
"That won't be necessary." Snape insisted, though he remained still.
"I still think you should guard Harry." Dumbledore intoned. "But we can use you still. Take my hand child, I can see the pain that holding back the forging is causing you. We will give you a home and many freedoms, and you can provide much in skill and service that we need. Your coming here was wise, we need you."
"Need her?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes, so she can be your lap dog." His voice grew deathly quiet. "As much as it pains me to admit, Granger is correct. She is not one of your tools." Snape's eyes lost the little light they had as he stared the headmaster down, who seemed much taken aback.
Then the Potion's Master did something very, very unexpected if not downright mad. He knelt down in front of the girl, and slashing his wand across his palm her took her hand. "I accept your declaration and your offer, and I will take responsibility for your care. You will not be my slave, but my ward."
His words were so quiet that no one but Rhanna heard them, and even she thought she imagined them. The place where their blood connected burned brightly, but it was a soothing burn. The rampant magic within her veins calmed, and the newly forged blade clambered to the broken ground.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked, lips tight.
Snape looked at him cooly. "She's asleep, Albus. You can all leave my chambers now." He glared at every occupant in turn, except Pomfrey, then called out as the Headmaster turned to leave.
"Yes, Severus?" He asked.
Snape smiled. "You can go suck a lemon drop."