- Rating:
- PG
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Genres:
- General
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Stats:
-
Published: 04/01/2004Updated: 04/01/2004Words: 809Chapters: 1Hits: 314
Burning Day
Mila
- Story Summary:
- Ravenclaw's sole remaining descendant decides that she can't take it any longer. It was the end. But also the begining.
- Posted:
- 04/01/2004
- Hits:
- 314
Professor
Lyrraent Rhaedoc prided himself on being the only professor on the
Hogwarts staff who was a fully trained master of tracking. So the fact
that he was having trouble tracking – and a mere student at that! –
said a great deal about the person he was attempting to track.
As he made yet another wrong turn, he cursed Ravenclaw, her progeny, her house, and her goddamned brilliance.
Running his hand through his grey hair, he took a deep breath to calm himself before attempting – once again – to track his prey's aura.
The Great Hall.
That's where she was now. The Great Hall. By Merlin – she was mocking him! The whole chase had started at the Great Hall, and now she had returned there.
He stalked off. She had better start praying now... if she wanted to get out of detention sometime before her twentieth birthday.
She was sitting at the Head Table when he got there. Even at the mere age of sixteen, she was the spitting image of her famous ancestor, Rowena Ravenclaw. Her deep blue eyes told of a wisdom far beyond her years; her long wispy brown hair hung down her back in a plait; long-fingered and inkstained finger were folded primly upon the tabletop. She gazed imperiously down at the livid Professor who had just stalked into the room.
They glared at each other for a minute more, before Rhaedoc broke the silence. "Miss Sillyn, are you aware of the seriousness of what you have done?" he snarled into the silence of the darkened room. "Of the sheer number of the school's bylaws and rules that you have broken?" He waved his arms as if trying to express the magnitude of that number. "You will be expelled in an instant ... no matter who your damned ancestors were!"
Elissa raised an eyebrow at his crude language. But she said nothing and he continued his tirade.
"Refusal of a direct order from a professor! It might have been understandable, were it an order that placed you into immediate danger. But it was only a demonstration of a simple spell! And not only that, but you cast some sort of spell onto two of your classmates. Two classmates who, I might add, are still in the Hospital Wing while your professors work diligently just to identify the spell you used. Then transfiguring all of the dueling weaponry into matchsticks ... and then destroying them all .... What could have driven you to these actions?!"
Her soft answer stopped him mid-rant: "It burned, sir."
He stared at her, jaw hanging, looking like a landed fish. He lowered his arms and peered closely. "Burned?" he asked her, sounding much calmer.
"Yes sir – burned. I couldn't stand to hurt anyone or watch anyone harm anyone else." Now she was looking agitated, waving her arms as he had been doing previously. "Even knowing that the weapons existed, with their potential to cause harm – it burned."
And then he understood. He understood the aura of wisdom that she always had. He understood her innate sense of good and evil. He understood her incredible capacity for forgiveness. He understood her need to help others.
And most of all, he understood why her eyes were glowing a faint yellow-orange... and why dancing firelight was reflected there, though the room was otherwise dark.
She saw the realization in his eyes and nodded in confirmation of what he already knew.
"Is that why you came here?" he asked, jokingly, cursing inwardly as his voice cracked. "To be the next Guy Fawkes and destroy all of Hogwarts in the process?"
She smiled sadly and shook her head. "I came here to say goodbye," she said quietly. "I still have time, but I have to go somewhere far away, where no one will be hurt."
She stood and walked around the table until she was standing in front of him. He couldn't look her in the eye and glanced down at his feet. "What will I tell them?" he asked.
With another sad wisp of a smile, she touched his shoulder and murmured, "Tell them I've gone on."
And then she lifted her head and walked towards the tall oaken doors of the Great Hall. Stopping by the intricately carved doors, she ran a finger along the delicate patterns. Without turning, she called, "I will visit. You have my word."
He let out a low, gravely laugh. "I will expect you ... Fawkes."
And then she was gone, and he was alone in the room once again.
When a beautiful phoenix glided into the Great Hall several months later, the entire student body seemed to gasp as one. As the phoenix alighted on Professor Rhaedoc's shoulder, scarlet and orange plumage glowing in the early morning sun, he allowed himself a smile.
As he made yet another wrong turn, he cursed Ravenclaw, her progeny, her house, and her goddamned brilliance.
Running his hand through his grey hair, he took a deep breath to calm himself before attempting – once again – to track his prey's aura.
The Great Hall.
That's where she was now. The Great Hall. By Merlin – she was mocking him! The whole chase had started at the Great Hall, and now she had returned there.
He stalked off. She had better start praying now... if she wanted to get out of detention sometime before her twentieth birthday.
She was sitting at the Head Table when he got there. Even at the mere age of sixteen, she was the spitting image of her famous ancestor, Rowena Ravenclaw. Her deep blue eyes told of a wisdom far beyond her years; her long wispy brown hair hung down her back in a plait; long-fingered and inkstained finger were folded primly upon the tabletop. She gazed imperiously down at the livid Professor who had just stalked into the room.
They glared at each other for a minute more, before Rhaedoc broke the silence. "Miss Sillyn, are you aware of the seriousness of what you have done?" he snarled into the silence of the darkened room. "Of the sheer number of the school's bylaws and rules that you have broken?" He waved his arms as if trying to express the magnitude of that number. "You will be expelled in an instant ... no matter who your damned ancestors were!"
Elissa raised an eyebrow at his crude language. But she said nothing and he continued his tirade.
"Refusal of a direct order from a professor! It might have been understandable, were it an order that placed you into immediate danger. But it was only a demonstration of a simple spell! And not only that, but you cast some sort of spell onto two of your classmates. Two classmates who, I might add, are still in the Hospital Wing while your professors work diligently just to identify the spell you used. Then transfiguring all of the dueling weaponry into matchsticks ... and then destroying them all .... What could have driven you to these actions?!"
Her soft answer stopped him mid-rant: "It burned, sir."
He stared at her, jaw hanging, looking like a landed fish. He lowered his arms and peered closely. "Burned?" he asked her, sounding much calmer.
"Yes sir – burned. I couldn't stand to hurt anyone or watch anyone harm anyone else." Now she was looking agitated, waving her arms as he had been doing previously. "Even knowing that the weapons existed, with their potential to cause harm – it burned."
And then he understood. He understood the aura of wisdom that she always had. He understood her innate sense of good and evil. He understood her incredible capacity for forgiveness. He understood her need to help others.
And most of all, he understood why her eyes were glowing a faint yellow-orange... and why dancing firelight was reflected there, though the room was otherwise dark.
She saw the realization in his eyes and nodded in confirmation of what he already knew.
"Is that why you came here?" he asked, jokingly, cursing inwardly as his voice cracked. "To be the next Guy Fawkes and destroy all of Hogwarts in the process?"
She smiled sadly and shook her head. "I came here to say goodbye," she said quietly. "I still have time, but I have to go somewhere far away, where no one will be hurt."
She stood and walked around the table until she was standing in front of him. He couldn't look her in the eye and glanced down at his feet. "What will I tell them?" he asked.
With another sad wisp of a smile, she touched his shoulder and murmured, "Tell them I've gone on."
And then she lifted her head and walked towards the tall oaken doors of the Great Hall. Stopping by the intricately carved doors, she ran a finger along the delicate patterns. Without turning, she called, "I will visit. You have my word."
He let out a low, gravely laugh. "I will expect you ... Fawkes."
And then she was gone, and he was alone in the room once again.
When a beautiful phoenix glided into the Great Hall several months later, the entire student body seemed to gasp as one. As the phoenix alighted on Professor Rhaedoc's shoulder, scarlet and orange plumage glowing in the early morning sun, he allowed himself a smile.
Author notes: Now don't even think of telling me that you saw that coming.
All reviews appreciated.