Sub Rosa

Chapter 39 – Meetings In The Forest.

Kathryn leaned lightly on the cane as she wandered the pathways of the Forbidden Forest, with Hagrid pacing beside her. He had his crossbow slung across his back, Fang trotting at his side, drooling copiously. Kathryn let her wand hang loosely from her other hand, hoping she wouldn’t need to draw her gun at any time as she was out of hands.

She knew what she was looking for. Somewhere in this fo the there was a gate to the Elder realms. Her ancestress had spoken of it once. She had tried to convince Hagrid that it was unnecessary for him to accompany her but he had just smiled genially at her.

“Can’t say as how you won’t need some help Professor. Besides, I need to visit my brother any .” A.” A detour to visit the giant had resulted in her new nickname “Katy Bank” being yelled loudly by the excited Giant. They dropped off some food and Hagrid spent some time visiting his enormous relative.

Only many years spent fighting dark horrors allowed Kathryn to visit with Grawp without feeling bowel-wrenching terror. As it was, she had her doubts about the wisdom of keeping an adolescent Giant this close to a school full of children.

The had been walking for about an hour after leaving Grawp happily uprooting trees when a rustling sound filled the woods and they found themselves surrounded by Centaurs.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at the ring of weapons that surrounded them: bows, crossbows and spears were all pointed at them. Hagrid drew his weapon and Fang cowered behind him.

“You have been warned again and again Hagrid, stay out of our woods!” Hagrid opened his mouth to speak but Kathryn cut him off.

“Your woods!” She barked at them “May I remind you who gifted you with these forests, Star-child!” She put her hands on her hips and glared at the large black stallion that was the obvious leader here.

The Centaurs stamped their feet and rattled their weapons in surprise at her outburst.

“Who are you that speaks so to us?” The leader moved forward, his brows lowered threateningly over his stormy eyes.

“I am Majere, blood of the Elders, come to speak to my own kin.” She stared him straight in the eyes, daring him to contest her rights. “Star-child, first in your herd, move aside and let us pass.” The herd was restless, their anger was tangible, a heavy weight.

“You lie! You are from the castle! Whatever you claim to be, you will leave our forest now!” The stallion reared back, as if to trample her underfoot. Kathryn stood her ground, remaining unmoved beneath the pawing hooves.

“Star-child, should my blood fall on the forest floor, drawn by you or your kin, your kind will be banished from here forever. Do not forget the ancient compact between the Elders and the Star-born.” A nervous shuffling of hooves answered her and the stallion settled back down, he looked uncertainly at her.

“Prove your heritage, wand-waver!” He ordered. Kathryn sighed, she hated having to do this, it took a lot of energy and she had to conserve what she could to speak to her kin.
“I will, but first answer me this: when did the Star-born begin interfering in the p of of history?” the centaurs trembled at her impertinence, but Kathryn kept herself still, waiting.
“The people of the castle have meddled in our affairs, taking in one that we have declared outlaw.” She nodded understanding.
“What do the stars say of the outlaw’s destiny?” She was amazed that Hagrid had remained silent for so long but he was looking back and forth between the Herd Leader and Kathryn with great interest.
“That he shall fall because of his choice.” The Stallion replied with arms folded across his broad chest.
“Very well, then why are you concerned? If his destiny be to fall, then fall he shall, whether he is at the castle or not.” There was a moment of stunned silence, as they took in her words. “Every action is framed by the stars.”
“You are Majere.” The centaurs melted into the forest without another word and Kathryn relaxed.
“You sure know a lot about the Centaurs.” Hagrid was looking at her with newfound respect. Maybe he would forgive her for killing the Naga after all.
“Only the stories my family tells.” She shrugged and they continued walking. There was a tugging in her heart and she turned suddenly to follow a small frozen streambed. She could hear a faint melody that called to her blood.
They crunched through the slush and ice, emerging into a circular clearing.
“Blimey, never been ‘ere before!” Hagrid was looking around at the clearing in wonderment. It was beautiful. A ring of tall trees stood, dark, with thick foliage towering above them. In the center of the clearing two weathered stones stood. Snow lay upon the forest floor and ice hung from the tress. The place was absolutely silent, no breeze whispered, no bird twittered, no sound at all penetrated the icy stillness.
“You can’t even find this place unless you are of the blood, Hagrid.” She murmured absently.
The crunching of Hagrid’s boots in the snow was abnormally loud as they walked towards the gate. It wike ike the cracking of a gunshot and she winced.

Kathryn stood before the portal to the Elder realms and felt the pull of it, the subtle yearning in her soul. There was a seduction there and a need to return to the place her blood had sprung frShe She called up an image of Severus’ face as a ward against that bone-deep desire. She used her love for him as a barricade against the treachery of her own soul.

She pocketed her wand and drew a tiny knife from her boot. With a clean stroke she cut a gash into her palm. Hagrid made a startled noise and moved towards her, but she waved him away with her cane.

She pressed her palm against the stones and smeared her blood on them, first the left stone, then the right. When she was done she stepped back and waited.

There was a pause, as if the world held its breath and then a rippling haze filled the gap between the stones. An image began to form.

The perfect summertime filled the space, the two stones standing sentinel over the division between the present winter and the dreamy buzzing landscape that they framed. Flowers of perfect loveliness bloomed, huge apples dripping juices, hung in the trees, birdsong so sweet that it brought tears to their eyes drifted on the languid breeze. Warm air puffed out from between the pillars and caressed her face, drying her tears.
A shimmer in the trees and then a figure approached. A minstrel, harp slung across his back came up the gate. He was dressed in scarlet and emerald with hair the pale green of new leaves and eyes only a shade darker. His skin was brown and smooth, ageless like his face. Delicately tapered ears rose on either side of his head and his cat- slitted eyes blinked slowly at them.

“Greetings little sister, will you cross?” His voice was mellow wine, rich and deep, and one could grow drunk listening to it. It took all of her will to stand still and not run to through the gate to him.

“Greetings Elder brother, I seek consul.” She replied. The one good thing about the elder is that they didn’t mince words. They liked plain speaking and preferred a blunt honesty to a polite lie.

“What consul do you seek?” He cocked his head, curiosity in his gaze.

“A dark Wizard has unleashed Kobolds and I seek consul on how to combat them.” She responded.

“Kobolds!” The Elder’s face twisted in rage. “Such filth! Who dares such a thing?”

He is named Tom olo olo Riddle, but he calls himself Lord Voldemort.” She answered.

The Fey nodded at her and strode off into the distance.

“Now what?” Hagrid asked in puzzlement.

“Now we wait.” She shrugged and with a slash of her wand, cleared a circle in the snow. She summoned fallen branches and twigs and soon had a fire burning and larger logs to sit upon. Hagrid disappeared from the circle and after she warned him to kill nothing within the glade itself he vanished.

He returned soon with a coney and they proceeded to roast it, swapping monster stories and discussing Harry and all that had happened to the boy over the last few years.

Hagrid was a surprisingly good companion. The gentle fondness she had felt for him before was ripening into a true friendship. They were laughing over stories of Fred and George Weasley’s antics against Umbridge last year, when the minstrel reappeared in the archway.

Kathryn and Hagrid rose and Kathryn cleared away their campsite, tidying the area with a quick wand wave. Kathryn strode up to the gate into summer and noticed the figures behind the minstrel.

“Elder brother.” She greeted him.

“Little sister.” He gave her a small bow and she returned it, giving him one slightly lower to indicate his greater status. “It has been discovered that the Kobolds you speak of were released from our realm. As they are our responsibility, we shall come with you and destroy them ourselves.” Kathryn clamped her jaw shut to keep it from dropping open. The Elders were coming through the gate?

She nodded and moved back away from the gate. A white horse, pure as snow with golden eyes stepped up to the minstrel and he mounted in one swift motion, leaping up without saddle, bridle or stirrup. The horse came through the gate and shook his mane against the biting cold as he parted from the warmth.

A Host came behind them, ten mounted warriors, proud and aloof, ten archers on foot, with sparkling eyes and laughing mouths and three servants, carrying packs and leading delicate fine-boned ponies with coats of amber and laded down with supplies.

“Blimey.” Hagrid breathed out.

“Welcome Elder brothers and sisters.” She bowed them into the glade.

“Long has it been since we have walked this world.” The minstrel looked around at the ice-covered landscape with his evergreen eyes. “Lead us to your clan, little sister.” Kathryn had a moment of panic and then looked at Hagrid.

“Hagrid guide them to the castle, I will go on ahead and see to it that Albus has a place to house them.” She turned to the Host. “Elders, I must go and see to it that our hospitality is sufficient for you. Hagrid will guide you as I go on ahead.”

“Go on ahead? We are horsed and you afoot, how shall you outpace” Th” The sarcastic tone of a gray-garbed elf woman was so like Severus’ that Kathryn merely smiled in answer and bowing, disapparated.

Kathryn reappeared at the edge of the Forest and ran as fast as her failing leg would take her to the castle. Once inside the doors, she grabbed the nearest student and told him to fetch the Headmaster, grabbed another and had her fetch Minerva and then summoned the house elves.

“There is a group of Tuatha de Danaan coming to stay at the castle.” She announced. The house elves looked at her in shock. “There are twenty warriors and three servants. They will need rooms and stabling for their steeds.” They continued to stare at her, mouths agape and eyes bugging out. “They are on their way! Hurry up!” Her panic infected them and they unfroze and scrambled away to prepare the rooms.

Albus and Minerva, entering from opposite directions, came rushing in led by the students that Kathryn had press-ganged into see.
e.

“The Elders have sent a Host to us.” There was a repeat of the house elves as Albus and Minerva stared at her in disbelief, then Albus recovered quickly and nodded.

“Very well, shall we go and greet them?” The students who had stayed over for the holidays came pouring out of the Great Hall from dinner and Kathryn let Albus precede her out the door.

The Host was just exiting the forest, Hagrid leading the way. Away from the woods they looked far more out of place, like a tapestry come to life. Their harness jingled and their voices carried across the fallen snow and the children clustered behind the three Professors, silent and awe-struck

Severus slipped up beside her and she twined her fingers with his without thinking. He squeezed her hand in his and his dark eyes were fastened hungrily on the approaching elves.

“Merlin’s ghost, Kathryn, how did you do it?” His face was rapturous, alight with the stunning beauty of the Host.

“I didn’t! I went to ask their advice and they just came.” Kathryn didn’t mean to sound so plaintive, but Albus’ laugh soothed her nerves.

“They must have gotten bored and wanted some fun.” Albus gently murmured, his eyes dancing with suppressed mirth. “Now remember, children, never ask an elf their name, it’s very rude. They may gift it to you, but highhigher ranking the Elder, the less likely you will receive a name from them.”

“So what do we call them?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Elder, or any title they give you.” Kathryn replied.

And so, for the first time in a thousand years, humans welcomed the elders into their homes.