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The Hope Of Many. by The Black Rose
Chapter 1 : The Beginning.
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 2

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A young girl of sixteen was staring out of one of the many windows that dotted the walls of Hogwarts castle. Her skin was unnaturally pale, with a few almost transparent freckles dusted across her nose and cheekbones. Her eyes were a sparkling blue with flecks of purple and green throughout them. Her hair, long, flowing and dark, hung loosely down her shoulders and back. She was wearing a cloak of a glittering blue shade, a shade Man could not find a name beautiful enough. On the other hand, her people had a name, as they had a name for most things. Puteulanus. It was a shimmering shade of puteulanus that covered the young girl completely. Underneath her cloak was a full-length dress of sparkling silver. The sleeves were tight to her skin until they reached her elbows, were the material spread out becoming wide and hanging off her arms beautifully. Around her slender neck, sat a necklace. The pendant that sat on the end of the chain was made out of a jewel that was unknown to man. It was carved into the figure of a fairy, with a bright star in the palms of her hands. There was one thing out of this girl’s appearance that made it clear what she was and to whom she was loyal. Her ears were pointed at the top, giving away to everyone that she was one of the Elves.


Her eyes were staring out of the window but at nothing in particular. They darted from place to place as if she was waiting for something to occur. The sight from the window was rather spectacular. From where she was standing, you had a view of the lush, green, grounds, of the dark, dense Forbidden Forest where she was told creatures of the night and creatures of beauty roamed. The girl’s eyes moved east to the mountains that surrounded the castle, they had a purple tinge to their grey stone and the tops were covered in cold, hard snow. Snow that would soon reach the castle and cover it in its blanket of pure cold. Slowly her eyes glided west, to look at the lake that was shimmering in the setting sun. The lake was calm, except for one part were ripples flowed, probably where the Giant Squid lay near the surface.


Vix!” cried a voice from behind the girl. She spun around at her name, her eyes narrowed before she relaxed when she saw her Father. Vix’s father was a tall man, a lot taller than Vix herself, who was quite short for her age. He was wore a robe, identical in colour and length to his daughters. He was old and that showed in his appearance. His skin was as flawless as his daughter’s though it seemed worn, as if it has seen many hardships. His eyes were an emerald green that sparkled when he was happy or glad. Her father’s ears were also pointed but the point wasn’t as rounded as Vix’s.  He had soft brown hair that was extremely short for his kind as Elves were known for their long hair. He was wearing a shirt, with a silver-blue waistcoat with a scabbard slung onto the belt that held up his bottoms.


“Freya,” nodded a man standing by her Father’s side. The man standing at her father’s side was a head smaller than him and had messy blonde hair that hung just above his shoulders. He was wearing robes of deep green, with black spirals on the hood. This was the colour and design of the robes, worn by Men. He also had a scabbard slung onto the belt that held up his bottoms. He, too, was wearing a shirt and waistcoat, though his was plain black.


Freya curtsied. “My Lord,” She said as she inclined her head towards her Father before turning to the man and inclining her head towards him. “Lord Hadrian.”


“Come my child, it is time for you to meet those who wish to help us.” Althalos said, extending his arms for his daughter.


She walked forward and Althalos wrapped an arm around her, guiding her towards large wooden doors with Lord Hadrian at her other side. The wood was dark and Freya inspected the spirals and lines of the wood. There were two Wizards flanking the door. You identified them as Wizards by the most obvious giveaways of their appearance. Firstly, they both carried wands, which they were clasping tightly in a vice-like grip. Wizards and Witches were the second most magical race, after the Elves, who used words alone to use their ancient powers. Secondly, their robes were a dense shade of black. Since the breakout of the Great War the separate races were encouraged to wear robes of certain colours so they were able to identify each other easily.


The two wizards inspected the Elves and Man before opening the large double doors and leading them into a small hall. In the wall sat a long table, lined by chairs on each side, seating at least ten people on both the left and right. At the top of the table there were four seats, one for each of the Founders of Hogwarts: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. However, only three people sat at the head of the table.


The three were in deep conversation, the volume and urgency of their voices rose and fell repeatedly as they spoke. One of the two woman looked up towards the door where Lord Hadrian, Althalos and Freya stood. She flashed them a brilliant smile before quickly re-joining the conversation she was previously in.


Due to Elves having an amazing sense of sight, Freya was able to lip-read most of the Founders conversation. They were discussing Salazar Slytherin, the only Founder who was not present. From what she lip-read the remaining Founders were hurt by his abandonment and could not understand why he did it. Nor did they understand Salazar’s need to have all Hogwarts students of Pureblood; in their eyes, as long as you had magic flowing in your veins, you should be accepted. They knew that he had left to join others who thought like him, that only people of Pureblood should be able to wield magic and that the group that he had joined was one of the main ones that caused the Great War.


The woman, who had looked at them before, pointed them out to her fellow Founders who immediately stopped talking and looked towards the door. Smiles broke out on their kind faces. Freya raised an eyebrow at this. She was used to being stared at with angry eyes and having things thrown at her by those who were not her kind. Being smiled at like this, threw her off, took her off guard and she wasn’t sure how she was to act.


They rose instantaneously and stepped away from their chairs, which, Scarlet had noticed, had a Lion, a Raven, a Badger and, on the empty chair, a Serpent. She frowned slightly before her Father raised an arm and indicated four banners, each one a different colour and each one sporting one of the animals. The emerald and silver banner showed the serpent, the scarlet and gold showed the lion, the yellow and black showed the badger and the fourth, the blue and black, showed the raven.


She cast her eyes to her Father, who was looking at her with a bemused expression on his face. She could tell what he was thinking, as he had always thought that of Wizards. They cast each other into groups, making enemies for themselves – enemies that may last a lifetime Vix. There ways are corrupt, always remember that. They single each other out and give others many ways to hurt them.

His words echoed loudly in her head and to rid herself of them she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, gently.


She opened her eyes again and was surprised to see that the two women and the man had almost reached them. Now was the time she chose to look at them, take them in. The woman, who had first noticed them, was blonde. Her blonde hair fell in lose ringlets over her shoulders, to the small of her back and she wore a black dress. One would think that she was in mourning if she did not look so happy and carefree. She was filled out her dress quite well, Vix though, with a smile on her face. She had hazel eyes that twinkled happily. Freya’s eyes darted towards the other woman, who was nothing, like the first.

The second woman had brown hair that was tied back into a plate, which she had hung across her shoulder. She was wearing a light blue dress and had a tiara-like diadem on her head. There were words etched onto it and Freya could read them easily. They read: “Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure.” The smile on the woman’s face grew, as if she knew what Vix was doing.


She returned the smile, slightly. She was being caustious but she couldn’t not help it, she was raised to be caustious, to question everyone’s words and movements. It was Freya’s way of seperating truth from lie.


She then turned the look at the man. He was tall, almost as taller as her Father and the women were a few heads smaller than him. He had black hair, almost as dark as Scarlet’s and smiling brown eyes. He, like her Father and Lord Hadrian, had a scabbard slung into his belt. Freya didn’t understand this but said nothing. Surely a wand was enough? Surely a powerful Wizard need not use the weapons of Man when he had has his own gifts? He, too, wore a rather baggy shirt and a waistcoat.


“Your Majesty Athalos, Lord Hadrian…” The Founders said at the same time. The man bowed low whilst the two women curtised before turning their attention to Freya. Their eyes filled with curiousity and amazement, they bowed and curstied again before saying, “Lady Freya.”


Here she is, they thought as they straightened up to look at the three people infront of them. The Lady of the Night. She was the answer to many problems. Their hearts swelled at the prospect of the War ending; of the world being, once again, relatively peaceful.



Their horses were galloping fast. Their hooves sounding thunderous on the dry, hard ground. The horses snorted, tossing their heads as they galloped. They knew that they were being followed before their riders knew, they had sensed it and had sped up drastically to show that. Their riders had been startled by the sudden blast of speed and had tried to calm the horses down whilst they wondered what on earth could have caused this.


A young man of eighteen was at the back of the group of  six. When the horses began to gallop, he turned around and looked behind him. His eyes widened at the sight that reached him. They were being followed. Followed by people wearing dense black robes with a emerald serpent. The followers of Salazar Slytherin.


“We must ride!” Edward bellowed having turned back around to face his friends infront of him. “We are being followed!”


He kicked the sides of his horse, roughly, even though it was galloping at it’s fastest. His heart was beating a million times a second and he could hear his blood pumping in his ears over the sound of the shouts of his comrades and the yells of those persuing them. His breathing was short and shallow as he concentrated on getting to his destination. On getting away safely.


The deadly woosh of arrows being fired into the air was coming from behind them. This was going to make their journey a lot more difficult for them and right now, they did not need obstacles. Arrows pierced a few of his fellow’s backs, killing them of seriously injuring them. He lowered himself against his horses warm, muscular body, hoping that the likelihood of him being shot was lowered. Unfortunately, none of the Men were armed, apart from their swords which would not come in handy when it came to being attack by arrows.


Mentally kicking himself for his stupidity, Edward rode on, realising, with a jolt, that there were only four of them remaining now. He saw that either the riders or their horses were shot. He glanced behind him and noticed how his horse was shot and the arrow had missed him by inches. He closed his eyes and sighed with relief before thinking that they were still being followed and that being relieved for being un-injured at this time was not wise and he may not live to see the sun tomorrow.


They galloped onwards their attacks not far behind them. The dust from the road that was being kicked into the air by the other horses stung Edward’s eyes and he grabbed the reigns with one hand, whilst covering his eyes with the other.


“I can see the river, my Lord!” called a fellow Horseman from infront. “They wont follow us over, sir! You must hurry!”


Edward grabbed the reign with too hands again as he stayed low against his horses body, saying encouraging words into it’s ear. The sound of hooves against stone reached his ears and his eyes widened. He did not realise just how close they were and how close he was to life and death. This, he thought, must be what it’s like for someone to be told they have a disease to which there is no cure. You are so close to life or death but one wrong move and you are sent blindly in the wrong directio, where only disaster can occur.


Suddenly the cries of their attackers faded from his ears and he sat up straight. He was almost at the bridge. A few more strides and he would be there. He burst onto the bridge. His horse’s hooves making loud, echoing noises against the cold, hard stone.


Halfway across the bridge were his comrades. They had dismounted their horses and were leaning against the side of the bridge, resting while they could. Edward trotted towards them before dismounting.


“You made it, sir!” They cried their voices and faces filled with happiness.


“I did. Thank you.” Replied Edward, gazing at the stab wounds in his friend’s abdomin. “How are you all? Will you all make it? I do not think I could stand if more of you fell, like our noble friends.”


The three men nodded their agreement and their answers. The feeling of revenge crept up on them, like an ugly beast. However, they shrugged it off. They knew they would get their revenge. They knew because they were teaming up with other races that wanted peace. They knew because Edward was part of the genious plan. They knew because they would make sure nothing or no-one would stand in the way.

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