The Dragons of Raveana

A Fond Farewell

Harry stood silently upon the cliffs of Shirestra, his gaze on the slowly lightening sky before him. The tall grasses lapped gently against his legs as night melted into day, hovering for a short period of time in that moment when everything seemed perfectly still. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drawing the salty ocean air into his lungs. It was the sound of approaching footsteps that finally forced him from his reverie. Opening his eyes, he turned and glanced at the raven-haired witch standing next to him. Emerald orbs identical to his own were focused on the rolling waters, fingers toying with the gold ring wrapped around the fourth finger on her left hand.

"What happened?" He asked slowly, shifting his gaze to look back out over the water. His brow drew down as he attempted to recall the last thing that he remembered.

Swivelling her head just enough to look at him, Raveana arched a dark eyebrow and shrugged. "Perhaps you died," she offered. Her gaze returned to the crashing waves, hands dropping to smooth down the long folds of the green gown she wore.

Harry stared at the witch incredulously, mouth opening and closing. Giving his head a firm shake, he spit out the first word that came to his lips. "What?" He chewed his bottom lip nervously as he waited for Raveana to respond, folding his arms over his chest. The piercing scream of a gull made him jump, jerking his gaze to the blue sky floating above them.

Chuckling softly, Raveana swung to face him. Tipping her head to the side, she smiled and reached out to rest a light hand on his tensed shoulder. "Life shouldn't be as serious as you make it, Harry." Sighing, she tossed one last longing-filled look at the ocean before swinging around and beginning to walk away.

Frowning, Harry opened his mouth and turned but stilled when a flash of movement in the distance caught his eye. A figure perched atop a chestnut horse waited patiently beside the crumbling castle, their face hidden within the hood of a black cloak. Narrowing his orbs, he attempted to focus on the individual but found it impossible to make out the person's features. His frown deepening, he transferred his attention to Raveana but found himself speechless. The dark-haired witch stood beside a tall grey horse, one of her hands smoothing over its silky shoulder.

The animal was vaguely familiar and he strained his mind to recall where he'd seen it before. It hit him when the raven-haired witch whispered the stallion's name, the soft word bringing the horse's head up. The new position of the grey's muzzle revealed a star-shaped scar situated upon its chest; the old wound located exactly where an arrow should have protruded. "You're going?"

"It's time," murmured the witch. Gathering the reins with practiced ease, Raveana mounted the stallion. She took her time arranging her skirts artfully over the saddle, carefully adjusting and straightening them while waiting for him to understand. When she was done, she peeked over her shoulder and smiled shyly.

"But the dragons-"

"Will be well looked after." Raveana stated firmly. Nudging her mount forward, she directed him closer to the raven-haired wizard before tugging on the reins. "You have everything you need, Harry. Here," reaching out, she lightly brushed his temple with the tip of her index finger, "and here." As she spoke the word, the digit drifted and halted level with his heart. Picking up the reins she'd dropped to express her point, she forced the stallion back several steps before spinning him around.

Harry swallowed dryly and nodded. "I guess this is good-bye," he croaked. Shifting his gaze to the ground, he scuffed at the earth for a second before raising his chin and inhaling deeply. Forcing a smile to his lips, he widened his eyes and lifted a hand in farewell.

Raveana threw back her head and laughed, the abrupt sound causing the horse to snort and prance wildly. "I'll see you around, Harry Potter. Maybe not tomorrow or next week . . . but we will meet again, this I can promise you." Still chuckling, she buried her heels in the stallion's sides and sent him cantering toward the dilapidated manor only to bring him to a sharp halt several strides later. Staring at him from atop her dancing mount, she smiled. "Oh, and my manor. Please see that it's taken care of properly." Nodding her head in a gesture of finality, she spun the horse around and sent him thundering toward the waiting rider.