Author's Note: When silly ideas attack!
Please comment and critique! C&C is love!
Fire for Hire
Or, Beware the Dragon Lady
The day was hot and Candice was suffering for her pride. The full-length cloak she wore was thin enough for summer wear, but it was beginning to stick to her bare, sweaty arms. A few of the volunteers on the grounds were watching her, and she knew from experience that they were ridiculing her choice of attire. She was used to that.
She wiped at the sweat on her brow with one gloved hand, hoping that the castle was cooler inside. If she was lucky, she'll be able to talk her way into using one of the rooms to freshen up before the arranged time, but she did not know the current Headmaster of the school, if there was still a Headmaster at Hogwarts.
She entered the castle with a sigh, exhausted and drenched with sweat. She ached to rest, perhaps to lean against the wall and soak up the cool of the stones. One or two wizards walked by her, barely sparing a glance before going off to finish a task, before someone noticed her.
"May I help you?" said the prim Scottish woman moving cautiously towards Candice. The older woman's hand was already holding her wand, though it was not yet pointing at Candice. She took that as a good sign and nodded.
"Yes," Candice said, her voice low and raspy. "I'm here to see a centaur."
"A centaur?" the woman echoed. "Firenze?"
Candice nodded. She didn't know the centaur's name; she only knew that there was one living in the castle, and that he would be able to help her. "Is he still here?"
"Yes, he is, Miss...," the woman said, an expectant look in her sharp eyes.
"Candice Bryce," she replied.
"Miss Bryce," the woman said. "I am Minerva McGonagall." She turned on her heel and said over her shoulder, "Follow me."
"Thank you, Mrs. McGonagall," Candice said, falling in step behind the woman.
"Professor McGonagall would do," the woman said is a flinty sort of smirk on her face. She led Candice to a door just off the Main Entrance and knocked on the door in a odd little rhythm. The door, resonating with the quick rhythm, unlocked and opened under Professor McGonagall's knuckles. It opened slowly on its own, revealing a lush indoor forest that took Candice's breath away.
"I need to speak to Filius about the charm on the door," Professor McGonagall said, more to herself than to Candice, as she walked into the room.
There, by a stump that reminded Candice of a lecture podium, was a blond-haired centaur with a palomino body. He trotted towards them with a look of expectation. Candice closed the door behind them.
"Ah, I knew you will come," Firenze said as Candice went to stand beside Professor McGonagall. "Please, lower your hood and remove your cloak. You are safe here."
Candice hesitated, for she had always felt naked without something covering her while in public and far from home. The centaur's blue eyes were kind, however, and she took it as a sign of good faith. Professor McGonagall, previously unconcerned by Candice's choice of attire, looked curiously at her, interest written all over her aged face.
Candice lowered the hood of her cloak and brushed her ash-blonde bangs off her wet brow. Her gloved hands undid the clasp at her throat and draped the summerweight cloak over her arm, conscious of the two pairs of eyes on her.
She knew what she looked like; she had owned a mirror or two in her lifetime. Her hair, cut short all around but for the two long sections on each side of her face, was more ashy than blonde and did not look quite natural. Her skin, relatively pale due to her learned aversion of attention, was dark gray and faintly freckled. Her features were human, and sometimes she thought her face could actually be rather cute, but the (literally) black skin and the bright purple eyes were probably not much of a charm point for most witches and wizards.
Aside from the cloak, the rest of her outfit was quite average by Muggle standards. Her trousers were apple-green with a straight leg and a button fly. Her top was a cream-colored mock-turtleneck with short sleeves that detracted nothing from her slim, boyish frame. Her gloves covered her up to her upper arms and she wore a pair of dragonhide boots on her feet. Her only piece of adornment was a jade-green stone stud on her left ear, nearly hidden by the long section of hair in front of it.
In her heart, she knew that she would not need any weapon on this journey, and she carried none, knowing they would come to know use. All she carried with her was a ten-inch Bowie knife which hung from the belt around her waist.
Professor McGonagall stared unabashedly before coming back to her senses and shaking her head. Firenze seemed unsurprised by the sight she made, but he was a centaur. He most likely had seen all he needed to see in the movements of the stars.
"Please, sit," Firenze said. "Relax. You will need your strength for tonight, and our meals will arrive soon."
"... Our meals?" Candice asked even as a blanket materialized on the forest floor, spread out and tempting. As it settled, plates of food, pitchers of mead and water, and even thick slabs of venison were placed on top of the blanket, spread out for a lovely summer picnic.
"You're more than free to join us, Minerva," Firenze said. "Our talk will not last long, though I would understand it if your duties must take you elsewhere."
"No, I shall stay," Professor McGonagall said. "If only to understand just what is going on."
"There isn't much to say," Candice said. "I only know that I must go into the Forbidden Forest tonight. There is something there waiting for me."
"Something's waiting for you?" Professor McGonagall said. "What? There are all sorts of creatures that call the Forest their home."
"That... I do not know." Candice bowed her head. "I have my hopes, but I can't be sure." She wrung her hands. "I'm hoping... I will find my father."
"I do not believe you should hold on to such hopes, Candice Bryce," Firenze said. "They will not be fulfilled."
"Who is your father, Miss Bryce?" Professor McGonagall said.
"A man who loved dragons too much," Candice said flatly, giving the older woman her standard reply.
"So you are half-dragon," Professor McGonagall said.
"I thought that would have been obvious," Candice said. "My mother was a Hebridean Black."
"But, how was your birth even possible?" Professor McGonagall said, utterly confused. "And you don't have the look of a MacFusty, even with the dark skin tone."
"That is because I'm not related to the MacFusty clan," Candice said, her mood darkening. "And my father was a dab hand at potions."
Professor McGonagall merely stared at Candice, unable to believe what she was seeing before her very eyes.
"Candice Bryce," Firenze said. "Please sit and eat your fill. I assure you that you will need every bit of strength you possess."
Candice took in a deep breath before settling herself on top of one side of the blanket. Firenze settled down beside her as she shyly reached for the venison, cooked just enough to give the meat an appetizing smoky flavor. She ate as properly as she could, even as her hunger urged her to tear through the meat. The venison was so sweet and the water was so cool; it had been such a long time since Candice had eaten so well.
Professor McGonagall watched her from the other side of the picnic blanket. "How long do either of you think this... quest would take to finish?" she said.
"Not long," Candice said. "I think."
Professor McGonagall drank her mead, unimpressed by Candice's response.
... to be continued
Oh my! Who's Candice's father? Is she related to Frank Bryce? What will her quest entail? (Questions, questions, questions. Am i the only one asking? Gosh.)
Please review! Thank you! :D