Chapter 4: What’s my name

The border to the forbidden forest from Hogsmeade was a generally quiet place. Monsters and beasts alike tended to not peruse the edge of the territory too often, at least not under the guise of dawn. They preferred to be cloaked in a cowl of darkness when they went about their evening investigations, and even then, finding a stray creature wandering the paved streets was a sight to behold, a rare occurrence that only came about once every blue moon.

The portly man with a head of fiery red hair looked out over his domain, the place he was set to guard with his life for the safety of the village, with a far-gone distant look. He didn't like this job. He had first signed up for the position when he was but a teen with dreams of heart-thumping glory. He had imagined himself fending off wolves the size of houses, venturing off into the monochrome world to slay creatures he could only create in his worst nightmares, yet, unfortunately for his teenage self, no such event had ever transpired under his watch. The only time he ever felt a rush of scalding blood through his body was when his eyes caught sight of a stay beauty, a woman who just so happened to pass through their little village.

With a head of raven black hair and piercing black eyes that looked as though they could swallow the sun with the depth of their colour, she was truly a sight to behold. Her skin, pale in hue, looked as though carved out of the finest ivory. At the same time, her face and proportions appeared to be hand-crafted by the gods above. She was beautiful. Though, her beauty would have been further accentuated if not for the fact that she wore upon her gorgeous face a solemn look of disinterest and apathy. The man had seen this woman a year ago, and it was only then that he truly came to terms with the boredom and suffering this job had cursed him with, for on that day, if not for his position, he would have surely approached the woman, yet he had to stay by his post, forced to watch from a distance as the fleeting beauty escaped from his grasp.

He still had dreams of her, of what could have been if not for his resentful occupation. Still, they were just dreams, something he knew could never happen, and yet, he still held out hope that one day, the beauty would reappear before him just once more. If that happened, he would surely leave his post, he would strike up a conversation, they would laugh, and he would love. His amber eyes would be graced with her picturesque smile, and he would fall for her once more.

"Ahhh…" The man let out a low groan of annoyance. His head was riddled with thoughts of the beauty. He hated this. He wanted the dreams to stop, to be faced with the harsh reality that she would never appear before him again. And it was with that wish that something broke the silence of the man's domain.

From a distance echoed a faint *pop*, it was quiet, no louder than a passing gust of wind, and yet, the man found himself focused upon the sound. He had never heard such a foreign tune before, at least, not out here, by the forest's edge. The man waited, his breaths held to the point where his lungs were starting to ache, all his senses were on edge, every hair on his body stood straight in eager anticipation for the following events. Was it a beast? One that could produce the foreign noise through the use of some weird magic, or was there something else? At such a thought, the man's trembling hands neared the wand that sat by a nearby table.

It wasn't particularly long, nor did it possess a sturdiness to be envied. It did not contain any unique traits, nor was it made out of some particular type of wood. For all intents and purposes, the man's possession was painfully average, and yet, it still held a special place in his heart. When his shaking hand clasped the wooden object, everything fell still. His beating heart that previously deafened him with the noise it produced went quiet, his uncontrollable tremblings stopped, he no longer felt scared. No, he was in control now.

His eyes that once shook with the horror of the unknown, now placidly scanned his surroundings. He was not prey. He was not someone to be trifled with. No, in this moment, he truly believed himself to be the predator.

"Is anything there!" The man yelled. He didn't know why. It wasn't like whatever haunted him would be able to respond to his boisterous call, and yet, it just felt like the right thing to do, the proper way to relieve himself of all the tenseness his body possessed.

Seconds passed in eerie silence before, from the corner of his eyes, he saw something move, with a pace that he assumed no human nor beast alive could match. It was a blur of colour, possessing no form. It appeared like the true incarnation of magic that it was. He couldn't dodge, nor did he have time to react to the moving bolt and cast a shielding charm. It was too fast. The wizard who cast it was too skilful.

Time appeared to slow for the horrified man. He knew of no one in the village who possessed a talent great enough to produce such a terrifying bolt, no child, no adult. Whoever performed this feat of magic was a foreigner, a passing wizard whose motivation remained unknown. Perhaps they were evil, simply a vindictive person in nature, or maybe, this was just some big joke, just the way whoever cast the spell went about earning the attention of someone. He would have liked to believe the latter, though, in his heart of hearts, he knew his assumption to be wrong, and such a thought struck within him a terror he never wished to experience ever again.

The unknown that was the spell, the enigma that was the caster, all of these factors would decide his fate. He was no longer the predator he once believed himself to be, the hero he tried to trick himself into being; no, he was merely prey.

*Zap* The bolt of magic cleanly collided with its target, and the man fell still. His plump body that formerly stood tall crumbled in upon itself with all the grace of a corpse. Within seconds, he was on the floor, unmoving. He could perform no motions. As though he was dead, he simply lay there, face up with his eyes wide open, forced to observe his attacker through a defeated lens. For he was not dead, merely paralysed, no matter how much he wished for the former to be true, to escape the coming revelation.

Movement stirred from the corner of his eyes though he could only partially see what was going on. A leg cloaked in blue marched forth from the shadows, the owner of it still veiled by an air of mystery, though the man already held his assumptions, and they tore him up from the inside. She walked with pride, without care for the man who so desperately wanted to escape from the torment his mind inflicted upon him. With each stride, more of her departing figure came into view, first was her back, draped in a dress of royal blue with her neck encircled by a scarf of what appeared to be eagle feathers. Her obscured body exuded a pure air of nobility, one that the man simply couldn't disobey. Next came a hand, one that appeared to be carved from the finest of ivory; her skin glistened under the radiant dawn light. The man had only seen someone with such fine skin once before, on that fateful day over a year ago.

'No…' The man could only inwardly mumble as the reality before him began to crumble, for, with the next reveal, all his hopes and dreams would be dashed, torn asunder by the woman he formerly pined for. A side portrait. That was all he saw, and yet, that was more than enough for him to break. With a face that could have been carved by the gods, the woman was in short, beautiful, though such a title failed to compare to the beauty she possessed. Sporting a head of raven black hair and eyes that appeared to consume the light around them, the man found himself enchanted by the woman before him. He knew this woman, he had met her once before, or rather he had seen her once before. He had made a promise to himself that if she were ever to appear again that he would talk to her, he had hoped, prayed for that day ever since, and yet, here he was, paralysed and forced to lay upon the chilling grass that still sported a top of new morning dew. Defeated by the woman he oh so pined for.

The man's heart ached, his mind stung, he wanted to die, he couldn't comprehend the situation that surrounded him. Wasn't this just too cruel? What had he done to deserve such a fate, such a cold rejection? Was this the fault of his own hubris? No, it couldn't be. He hadn't even managed to talk to the woman who so readily left him for dead as she encroached upon the dreary land of the nearby forest alone and unguarded.

He could only watch with a broken mind as the woman known as Rowena Ravenclaw solemnly strode towards the forest's border, where, without sound, she was consumed by the monochrome world of the woods.

Rowena marched through the thick forest without a care in the world. She was not on edge, nor was she frightened by the many potential threats that lurked behind every shadow in the dark plane. She simply moved with purpose and pride. Her all-consuming pitch-black eyes scanned the world around her, but only briefly. She could see the looming figure of creatures that simply salivated at the thought of feasting upon her bountiful body, and she ignored them like a fly to a god; they posed no threat to the single mother. Her ears solely picked up on the sound of her hearty stride as she moved unhindered through the dreary shrubbery, weaving through the tightly knit forest. The sole thought in her mind revolved around the child she assumed lay broken and in danger in the eye of these woods.

Every second was precious to the fervently moving mother. She did not wish to make a mistake, to be late, to be forced to confront not a boy, but a corpse, a blood-soaked figure with limbs torn asunder and puncture wounds practically everywhere. No creature dared to defy the royal aura the woman exuded. They feared her domineering presence, though they didn't know why. She should be human, prey to their sinister and yet, the moment they thought about confronting the rapidly moving figure, their bodies would freeze, and images of death would stream to the forefront of their feeble minds.

Guided by her wand that appeared to point in the assumed direction of the boy, it took Rowena mere minutes to speed her way to the epicentre of the forest through the use of some weird body enhancement magic, and it was there that she froze. Her journey that previously went unhindered met a roadblock, though not in the form of a living, breathing creature fueled by both malice and the need to survive but by a tightly knit mesh of ivy that stretched from tree to tree like a fence. The trees that usually stood tall appeared to contort to the ivy's wishes; branches would mesh with the vibrant green, strengthening the weird roadblock to the point where even the magical creatures of the forest found their journeys stopped. Rowena could spy wolves that tore at the structure to little to no avail, for every time they managed to dent and cleave a way through the thicket, the structure would regenerate, and new life would be given to the severed plants.

It was odd. It was magical, though the usually curious woman was not concerned with either the origin or the purpose of the blockade. She only cared about what lay behind it, what the thicket obscured. Her hand that held the acacia wand stirred, with but a gentle movement and a mere thought, the dull grey atmosphere of the dreary forest was filled with light. Fire spilt forth from the tip of the wand in the form of a ball. It darted towards the odd thicket with the express purpose of destruction, and destroy it did. *Boooom* A thunderous roar resonated through the silent realm. Within seconds the green mesh was dyed a vibrant orange while a scorching warmth plagued the chilling realm. Plumes of red and yellow danced in apparent glee at the feast that awaited them. The structure did not regenerate. In fact, it looked as though it didn't even try. Portions of the ivy opened up like a door to another world. It gave sight to a distant scene, a parting in the trees where the lone figure of a boy could be seen. Though the boy's body remained obscured.

Immediately Rowena's legs began to move. She darted through the scorching mess of decay without care for the insufferable heat that clung to her body like a miasma. Sweat clutched at her skin in a desperate attempt to hinder the woman's journey, yet it failed, and within seconds the woman was within range of the child and, what more, the creature that appeared mid-pounce before him. Rowena readied her wand, prepared to cast yet another spell, yet, she faltered, for her eyes finally caught sight of the boy she would be saving, and what she saw stunned her. The boy was not scared like she thought he would be. He stood defiantly in the face of encroaching death, like a hero from a folktale. Did he not know fear, or had he simply given up on life? Such a query plagued the mind of the befuddled master for, but a moment before her body began to move, her right hand flailed against the empty air as though inscribing a sigil upon space itself, and then, as though graced by a miracle, from the tip of her wand, erupted a ball of flame, it cleaved through the air like a hot knife through butter with a speed the wolf that lunged at the boy could only envy.

*Bang* The ball collided with the wolf sending it spiralling through the air with its fur a blaze. Howls and whimpers of pain erupted from the beast's salivating jaw before suddenly, it fell silent. The forest was still, spare for the quiet crackling of the wolf's body as flesh began to sizzle. A horrible smell wafted through the empty area, one the defeated's brethren could only gag at. They didn't want to end up like him. They wanted to live…they wanted to escape, for they knew to fight here would lead to a pointless horrific death.

However, the next sound that graced the quiet land would not be the muffled shaking of the brush but rather the soft yet excited call of the boy, whose face that was previously painted with a look of defiance now sported an eager smile. His heart, which was once empty, now appeared full of emotions. He had received confirmation that he was human, he saw another of his kind.

"What's my name?"