AN: If you are lovely enough to review, I'd love to know what I can do to improve my writing. Also, I sort of picture Harca as looking very similar to the 'Avis Cyrus' in "Can't be Tamed." I think it's a very interesting take on the harpy concept.
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and characters mentioned in the books belong to JK Rowling. All original characters and plots belong to me.
Chapter 8: The Plot Thickens
The 24th of October, a grey and dreary Tuesday, arrived in short order. Everything seemed to blur by in a flourish of autumn colors for Rose, but she felt a weight lifted from her chest since she had officially met Alrin a month or so ago. They had been meeting by the lake in the same spot every week now, getting to know each other. It had been their little secret.
Of course, Rose eventually introduced Alrin to Albus and Cornelia. They had been weary at first, rightfully so considering who their family was. But before long they had become a very merry foursome that spent all their free time by the lake, twisting Alrin's finely pointed ears about elves and all the other magical beings that he knew of.
Cornelia was particularly fond of his tales, as per her special interest in magical creatures and beings. But she was not here today, nor was Albus. Rose found herself alone by the lake and oddly this did not worry her, in fact it was a relief.
She held the tome she had checked out from the library some weeks ago and a crumpled piece of parchment in her lap. It had just reached the time of year when frost settles in the morning; she pulled her robes tighter around her, but did not let the biting wind budge her.
Rose felt a presence beside her as swiftly as a breeze. She knew it was Alrin, stepping soundlessly. She did not stir, she did not blink or acknowledge him. He put his strong hand on her small shoulder.
"Are you alright, young Rose? The cold does not trouble you?" his grip tightened slightly and he lowered himself down next to her. Her face stayed still as she peered at him from the side.
"Does the cold not bother you?" she asked half-heartedly.
"Oh no, I feel it only a little…" he stopped mid sentence. Her unresponsiveness was alarming.
Suddenly, Rose felt herself being scooped up in his arms, but she was too frozen to properly resist. Sitting there together, Alrin wrapped his wondrously warm cloak around both of them, holding her tightly.
"You are much too little to sit out here by yourself, young Rose. Please, tell me, what is the matter?" he cooed to her in a tone she had never heard before. This compelled her to lift her head and peer at his beautiful face. Without a sound she lifted the crumpled parchment up between them. Alrin blinked but took it and read the adolescent scrawl.
Dear Rose…
I'm sorry to have to do this and I didn't want this to be how or why it ended but…I just can't see you anymore. My parents are not pleased with me…you're a brilliant girl, absolutely fit but…you're also a Weasley and my family can't have that. I'm so sorry Rose. Please forgive me.
Frank
Alrin's face softened and he re-crumpled the note, throwing it off to the side. Rose watched it land on the frozen ground.
She finally stirred.
"Why…do people have to hate so much?" her voice was dry as if she hadn't spoken in days.
"It is the nature of sentient beings to divide each other and judge, I have found. There are even those who hate my people. I do not think it will ever change, sweet Rose." he smiled at her with sympathetic eyes.
Even a being as old as he still felt so much empathy with a young being learning about the good and bad of the world. It was beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. He felt her move against him, sitting up in his lap. She wiped the stray tears away and looked at him with swollen eyes.
"Who would hate elves?" she asked incredulously. Alrin sighed. He knew this would happen eventually. She was such a clever little girl, after all. His expression changed into that of a stern father.
"You must promise me that what I am about to tell you stays between you and I, understand?" his blonde brows knitted together, still doubting whether he should tell her why they are really there. She nodded and listened eagerly.
"We elves cannot die from age or illness. We are swift and powerful in our own ways. And we have lived harmoniously with all other beings except one….vampire. Even our elders are not sure when they declared war on us, only that they cannot stand to exist while the elves still thrive. I suppose you could say we are similar in so many ways; heightened senses and strength and speed; very long lives and we both command a certain kind of respect. But we are also so fundamentally different that we cannot coexist…My people cherish life and the vampire takes it away.
They do have some magic, which is why my people and I sought aid from the Headmistress. She said she could at least even the battlefield if Noble…that is their leader, Trevor Noble…and his pack of fiends caught up with us. She has put an enchantment on the forest so that all magic is muted within. If they do find us here, we will stand and fight."
Alrin trailed off, looking far ahead into the edge of the forest. His face had aged somewhat, talking about the plight of his people. Rose reached up and touched his eternal face for the first time, feeling the cool, smooth skin against her tiny palm. A moment of vulnerability flashed across his features and he reached up, gently pressing her hand to his cheek, closing his eyes reverently. Rose was quietly shocked.
He opened his eyes slowly and smiled at her, moving her hand from his face to in-between his large warm hands.
"Rose Weasley, you are a treasure. I am glad to call you my friend." he smiled warmly at her.
Suddenly, a shadow passed over them, blocking out the little bit of sun that was still visible. Both of them looked up wondering what it could be. It was so quick it must have been going terribly fast. Not seeing anything, Rose looked to Alrin. His piercing eyes were trained on the sky.
"Perhaps some older students are flying off the pitch?" Rose offered, worried about his hawk like intensity. Finally, Alrin tore his gaze from the sky and looked at her as if he was looking through her. He pulled a silver necklace with a sparkling stone out of his pocket.
"Sweet, precious Rose…this necklace is ancient and powerful. It has been passed down many generations to me. I want you to have it," he said, placing it over her bushy red curls and around her neck, "And wear it always. You must be careful and I must protect you. This stone will keep you safe when I am not there. Do you understand?"
Rose stared blankly at Alrin and then the tinkling jewel in her hand. She nodded, frightened of his sudden change in mood. He put his hand over hers and squeezed tighter. "Always, Rose."
Harca was a beautiful bird woman, or harpy as they referred to her. Shapely and seductive, save for her hands and feet, which were shiny, black, birdlike claws. She had gigantic wings with glossy ebony feathers and straps of leather as a primitive armor. Though, she didn't need protection, as she was an extremely deadly creature in her own right.
However, just like a woman, she had a heart that could be broken. She flew over Hogwarts, acting on behalf of the despicable Trevor Noble. She only did it because he promised her revenge against Alrin Nasrohir for killing her mate.
Finally a break through. She had been flying over the grounds as discreetly as possible hoping to catch sight of an elf. The vampires had tracked them as far as the Scottish highlands and then through Glenfinnon. Harca had deduced that perhaps Hogwarts would be a viable destination. You know, full of the 'help the needy' types…
Her instincts served her well enough, as lo and behold none other than Nasrohir himself was spotted by her vengeful eye. Cradling a human girl? A little witch, no doubt?
His vision was just as sharp as her own, so she had to be quick and silent. She soared up higher, after insuring it was in fact Alrin, so as to disappear above the clouds. Hopefully he hadn't seen her…
Soaring above the clouds she flew over the forest and toward the edge of Hogsmeade.
'Have you found something? I felt a change!' a masculine voice hissed in her head.
She absolutely loathed when he invaded her thoughts. She rolled her predatory eyes and grimaced.
'Stay out of my bloody head, Noble!' she screeched back at the voice, telepathically. 'Meet me at the Shrieking Shack, posthaste, sodding tick!'
A few minutes later she landed with a robust thud on the ground. Tucking her wings behind her expertly she strode toward the precarious little shack. Entering the highest room, she found a gang of the pulse-challenged huddled around their ignoble leader. Trevor Noble was handsome for one of the living dead.
Harca hypothesized that perhaps he was relatively young in the eyes of the undead, but charismatic. Vampires tended to suffer a high turnover rate in their leaders, what with hunters abound and a general consensus of distaste from properly living magical beings. He was handsome but dangerous, and Harca would not forget that.
Noble stood gracefully from his make-shift throne, training his dead, black eyes on the harpy.
"Your little jab was uncommonly rude…" he purred.
Before she could protest, he moved with supernatural speed and clamped his cold dead hands around her delicate throat. He began to squeeze and she gasped. He moved his face close to hers. His blue lips brushed her ear as a fang traced the rounded helix threateningly.
"For the remainder of our working relationship, you shall keep your opinions to yourself!" he growled in her ear, finally letting her go. She forced herself to recover quickly, not letting him get the satisfaction of watching her struggle any longer.
"Nasrohir was spotted on the school grounds…with a little girl." she murmured, her voice deadened.
"Who is she to him?" Trevor asked impatiently, lacing his long fingers together.
"If I knew, you would know." she said sarcastically. Trevor brushed off her tone.
"This is an opportunity, regardless. What does an elf need with a little mortal girl? Nothing at all." he mused aloud, pompously waving his hands. His cronies watched him intently. He focused on Harca again.
"I want you to find her and bring her here. Make sure Nasrohir knows where she is…" he chuckled to himself, smug. "We shall bring the prince of the elves to us!" he flourished and cackled. Harca grimaced at the foul creatures but she knew she had to fulfill her deal with Noble before she could exact her own revenge. She had to get away from here. In a blur of feathers and claws she flew out of the nearest boarded up window, smashing through the barrier, a bevy of splinters spraying behind her. Stairs were for the lesser beings.
