Fog, Ice and the Green Earth

"It was never that I didn't trust you. Please believe me - I wanted to tell you."

She wiped the tears away in a two-handed gesture that spoke to her resolve. Her eyes shone a luminous grey.

"But now you will have to trust me. I have to take you to where I can speak freely, and . . . it won't be a safe or easy journey. It is not the magic of wizards; it's a different, older sort."

She offered her hand to him and, wonderingly, he took it. They walked into the forest together, until they seemed to fade into the distance, as if they had never been there.

Some incalculable time later Scorpius stood in a meadow ringed by tall, silvery trees. He seemed to remember crossing a dark river that ran as warm as blood before pausing before a choice of three roads through a deep forest. It was a faint and confused memory for all that it had just occurred.

What just happened? Scorpius shook his head to try and clear it.

There was a rich green smell to the clearing they stood in. He could see the windows of an indistinct hall shining softly in the distance. A dim lake could be seen beyond it and past the lake twilight deepened into velvet darkness.

"What is this place? Where are we?"

"We are in Faerie. It's not a legend. It's not a dream. It's my home."

"This can't be true."

Corrina was silent.

There was a rustle of grass as Fox emerged from the shadows, Willow on his arm. Scorpius stared at Fox, at the features so reminiscent of his own, at the red hair parting over pointed ears, the smile with a hint of canines showing at the corners.

"So, Raven, you have brought a friend? Be welcome to our fair land, good sir." Fox swept a courtly bow.

Scorpius collected himself and made a credible bow in return. A sense of unreality had spread over him. Corrina could see the whites of his eyes, and the rapid pulse at his throat.

"Welcome, brother," said Willow, taking his hands and stooping to kiss first one cheek, then the other.

"Fox, Willow, give us leave. I have much to tell him."

"No doubt, dear birdling, no doubt." With a wicked grin, Fox turned and whistled. A pair of fey horses emerged from the trees, their hooves muffled on the loam.

"Do not linger long, Raven. The Hunt starts soon, and it won't be safe for your silver boy," bid Willow as she mounted.

"And . . . the woods are not as safe as once they were. I don't think the Black King will be best pleased if something happened to you," added Fox.

Corrina nodded, her mouth firmly set, and watched them depart, the horses prancing and cavorting, their riders laughing before they set heels and sped into the twilight towards the hall.

"Why did he call you Raven? That's not your name." Scorpius's mind was reeling from disorientation.

"No, it is not. But names have great power here. To know someone's true name is to hold their soul in your hand."

"But I know your name."

"You know the name I use, but even I don't know my true name. Here I am Raven, there I am Corrina Corax. They mean about the same thing."

"Corrina, what are you?"

She looked at the sleek, white-blond hair shining silver in the muted light, the ice blue eyes and pale skin, the lost look on the beloved face.

"I am a changeling. A human child stolen into Faerie long and long ago. I don't know when I was born. I don't know who my parents were. I have but a few memories conjured up from the past or scraped up by music into recollection. I can show them to you, if you like. . . ."

She drew out her wand.

"Ostendo Preteritus!"

A little scene unfolded before his eyes: a woman with fair hair, a man with a harp, and children by a peat fire. A peaceful scene. It lingered briefly, and then dispersed, replaced by a confused vision of trees whipping past, distant sounds of voices shouting, metal clashing, screams. A woman's voice cried as if from a great distance, "Gaun yourssel, run! RUN!" The image flickered, steadied, and then vanished in a burst of azure blue.

Corrina brooded for a moment.

"That is all I have. It seems as if I can almost remember more when Rory plays the bagpipes, but it never quite comes clear . . . ."

Scorpius jumped as he felt something touch his leg. It was Zwarthart. The big black cat yowled at Corrina, ears back.

Corrina lifted her head, listening to a distant noise, like geese calling.

"The Wild Hunt rides. I need to take you to the hall, Willow is right; it isn't safe for you to linger here if the Hunt is to ride."

"If it's not safe for me, what about you?"

"Oh, well." Corrina seemed uncomfortable. "I ride with them, and they will not harm me."

Scorpius stared at her. His mind reeled.

I thought I knew her, but who - what - is she? What is someone who can walk between worlds and ride unharmed with the Wild Hunt?

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It seemed to be a twilight evening, an evening devoid of black sky or stars. Scorpius looked out at the dim and tangled garden framed in the window of Corrina's quarters.

"It seems like it's been twilight for a long time."

"The sun never rises here, nor the moon. I don't know why. When I first came to school, that was the hardest thing for me, seeing the blue sky. Here, well, I suppose we are in-between things. Between dark and light, sun and moon."

Between happiness and sorrow.

"How did you get your Hogwarts letter? And if you were never in London at all, where did you get your wand?"

And why attend a wizard's school when there is magic such as this all around you?

"I am not the only one who can move between the worlds. House-elves and thestrals do, and humans do, too. Some even remember it, although most think that they were dreaming.

"Master Olivander is one who has been here many times, collecting wood and wand core. He made my wand. The letter, well, Zwarthart brought it one day.

"We have some time, but not over long. Time runs differently here than in the mortal world: sometimes longer, sometimes shorter. I don't quite have the knack of controlling it."

They sat in silence and listened as the eerie sound of the Hunt drew closer. A high keening accompanied the belling of monstrous hounds. Wild music of horn and pipe chased the fierce cries and shrieks that receded into the distance. Scorpius shuddered and closed his eyes as silence fell, trying not to think of what happened when the Hunt caught up with its prey.

"I brought you here to tell you something," Corrina finally said, not quite meeting his eyes. "This is not easy to say.

"I know . . . . I know you want me to belong in your world and be with you. But I can't."

"Look, just because my family. . . ."

"It's not because of your family - or, well, not really about your family. It's about where I belong. I belong here. I didn't think I did, I didn't want to."

She got to her feet and started pacing the room.

"I was sent to Hogwarts to learn your magic, wizard's magic. And that was important because there is an enemy here, something in the shadows, something like the Dark Lord in your world. The Black King is already setting up defences, but who knows how long they will hold. And . . . I can't turn my back on this world. I have to stand with them and fight. With what I have learned at Hogwarts, I can more than just stand and fight, I can make a difference."

She turned to face him, tears in her eyes.

"I can't let them down."

"But why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me any of this?" Scorpius's hurt resonated in his voice.

"I couldn't! I couldn't tell you anything about this when I was your world. You will find when you return that you won't be able to talk about this world either. It is a powerful magic that protects Faerie from mortals."

"Corrina. . . I . . . I . . . . Then let me stay here. Let me fight with you; that is what I am learning, that's why I wanted to be an Auror . . . ."

"No! Oh my love, you don't belong here, any more than I belong at your grandparents' table. You would hate me before long if I parted you from your family and kept you here. You would want to go back, to go home."

"Corrina, please don't do this."

Corrina shook her head.

"I have to," she whispered, and her expression was so forlorn that Scorpius found himself giving her the comfort he needed so badly himself.

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CRACK!

The main street of Hogsmeade was deserted when Scorpius Apparated. The heavy rain beat down as it had all spring, pooling on the saturated earth.

"Repello Aqua."

At least that will keep the rain off, even if it won't keep my boots dry.

Scorpius looked glumly down at his soaked and muddy footwear. Deep in his pocket was the parchment with her note:

"I will be at the top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight on Midsummer's Eve.

C."

He had thought about not meeting her, of keeping the break a clean one. But if he was honest with himself, he knew that he still had hope that somehow they could be together.

Trudging through the mud he wished he could have brought a broom and flown, but the fierce thunderstorms made that impossible.

By the time midnight approached he was dry and warm and comfortably housed in the castle's guest quarters. Tomorrow he would be representing his family as arrangements were made to endow the Albus Dumbledore Memorial Auror Assistance Programme. But tonight was his own.

He walked through the quiet night halls of the castle, smiling at the nostalgic memories they conjured up. But she was part of every recollection, around every corner, inextricably bound to his time at Hogwarts. Corrina.

He paused in the doorway of the Astronomy Tower and looked out. The rain had stopped, and wind-torn clouds were scudding across the full moon sky. A slight figure stood on the ramparts, waiting. He stepped into the night.

"I couldn't leave without seeing you one last time. I know I should have left it as it was. I know this is wrong of me, but. . . ."

All the feelings he had been trying to ignore for six months threatened to overwhelm him. The very sight of her made him feel as if something desperately strong was squeezing the life out of his heart.

They stood for an eternity under the stars, arms wrapped around each other, heart to heart. Finally she drew back.

There was nothing for them to say: it had all been said and felt before. In their pain was the knowledge that their love was unshaken. A faint, slight consolation. A small bit of hope to pin a dream to.

She put her hand to his cheek, touched his tears with her fingers, gently.

"I will send you my dreams."

Balanced on the battlement, she paused one long moment. Scorpius thought of the night they had first kissed, when she had sat and mocked him at this spot. And then, as she had once threatened, she leapt. Scorpius looked after her, straining his eyes to see a single black bird flying against the black sky. He blinked, and the raven vanished.