For hundreds of years, wizards and witches believed that they were the most powerful beings of time. And for hundreds of years, they were right. Now, after century's worth of research, the Magical World has been proven wrong.
It is not the Wizarding Era that is the most powerful, but what we researchers have grown to call the 'Divine Era'. The Divine Era was the very first immortal being time period. It is older than the Greek/Roman God Era.
The Divine Era was created by the world's supreme leaders at the time: Angels. Angels were known to be created out of the positive essence of the world to help mortals in a time of need. These mysterious beings contained powers such as an excessive amount of knowledge; Angels knew the past, present, and the future. They were also skilled in healing.
Angels helped the world thrive, and gifted life with food, water, and other necessities of life.
A strange numbness had spread over Clara and she could not comprehend what she was reading. There was something even stronger than witches and wizards? Angels were actually real? Not wanting to stop, she skipped into the middle of the book and kept reading.
Toward the end of the Divine Era, mortals began to suspect the soundness of the Angels ways and began an uprising. It was called The Golden Blood War, after the colour of Angel blood. Mortals did not show any mercy as they clipped the Angels' wings, which was the only way of killing them.
Beneath the text was a picture of a man kneeling on the ground with his mouth open in a soundless scream. At his feet lay a pair of feathery wings, painted gold with the divine blood.
Mortals killed almost all of the Angels, and only a lucky handful could escape. Without their wings, most Angels perished, and the ones who survived lived a secret, almost mortal life, and aged much slower than humans. The little magic that they had left was kept in the dark.
Later on, one of the mortal Angels discovered a way to infuse their powers with other magical properties such as unicorn hair into strong resources such as wood and iron. The Angel fashioned himself one wand, and one staff, and he encouraged the last surviving Angels to do the same. They then became the very first pure-blooded witches and wizards.
There was another picture at the bottom of the page that showed an inhumanly handsome man with straight brown hair and golden eyes standing tall, holding a wand in his left hand, and a pure silver staff in the other. Even in the painted picture the Angel seemed to shimmer with golden light.
Clara's mind had become almost completely focused on the book, and it was a miracle, really, how she had been able to hear the clicking of Madame Pince's shoes on the wooden floor. With one sweeping and unconscious motion, Clara stuffed the book into her backpack and pretended to busy herself by pushing a random book into place.
"I see you've finished," Madame Pince said as nodded approvingly at the book shelf that Clara was working on. "Very well, you're detention is over. You are dismissed," She said.
"Thank you, Madame." Clara muttered. She walked back to the chair where she dropped her belongings and was glad that she had stuck the book inside her bag and not in the folds of her cloak, because Madame Pince would have surely seen the glittery cover as she slipped it into her bag.
Grabbing her things, Clara followed the librarian out of the now dark and eerie library. Her mind was still buzzing with the new information she had found. If Angels were the first pure-blooded wizards, does that mean that modern pure-blood families were descendants of those Angels? Had the children of those Angels gotten together with mortals and created the half-blood bloodline? The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed.
As they travelled through the main section of the library, the towering windows indicated how late it was. "Madame Pince, what time is it?" Clara asked worriedly. She had suddenly remembered that she asked Lily to wait for her in the common room, and she didn't want Lily awake for her if it was actually as late as it looked.
Madame Pince checked her watch. "Nine-thirty; you're lucky you didn't have detention with Mr. Filch," She said disapprovingly.
And Clara was thankful for that; Filch would've kept her in detention until the late hours of the night. Madame Pince stopped in front of the library doors and examined Clara, crossing her arms.
"Be sure to get to class earlier next time," Was all she said.
Clara nodded mutely, and passed the librarian with her head down and the door clicked shut behind her. As she walked, she could feel the book about Angels thumping against the side of her thigh and resisted the urge to take it out again. She had to wait until she was safely inside her dorm room before she could start reading again. Her insides were tingling with the excitement of her discovery and she wanted to find out everything about this forgotten Divine Era.
"Fairy lights," Clara said as she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and the painting swung open to submit Clara into the common room, which, to her surprise, was completely empty. With the thought of Lily waiting for slipping out of her mind, she launched herself onto the couch, belly down, and dug the forgotten history book out of her bag.
As her eyes scanned the pages in front of her, she learned that Angels were the basically the beginning to the world. They introduced farming, medicine, knowledge, philosophy and many other things to humans when they knew nothing of survival.
Completely unexpectedly, Clara flipped the page to start on the sixth chapter and found that a chunk of the book had been torn out, the very first ripped page shredded in half. Feeling shocked and desperate, she flipped through the remaining pages rapidly and discovered that someone had only tore the one chapter, leaving the end of the book to acknowledge who had helped with the publishing, not that she cared. With a groan of frustration, she pulled herself up to a sitting position and looked at the torn pages. She bit her lip and flipped back to the page where it showed a drawing of the Angel who had crafted the very first wand. Something in the depths of her memory twitched with recognition, which was impossible because the Angel in the picture was most likely deceased. Still, her mind pulsed.
She flipped through the book once more and scratched her head, feeling a sudden hopelessness. Well, this is of no use to me anymore, Clara thought to herself, I'll return it tomorrow.Hair: tumblr_n3j1twWleM1s5z1kco1_500
Dress:
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"If you weren't off to meet your fiancée, I'd say that Sirius would fall head-over-heels for you!" Lily gushed, approving my outfit choice.
"The dress is a bit short," Clara mumbled, tugging on the hem of the pink skirt.
"You're just not used to it. Trust me, its okay. It only brushes your knees," Lily reassured. "Love the makeup, by the way."
"Are you going to stay here all day?" Clara changed the topic, eyeing her pajamas. Lily blushed and shook her head.
"No, I'm going out with James, he said that he wanted to show me something." She explained.
"Have fun, but don't get too crazy." Clara told her best friend with a smirk. A second later, she dodged a pillow that was aimed for her face.
"Shut up!"
"Bye, bye!" Clara grinned, running out of the dorm room before another pillow was launched. Hanging her small purse over her shoulder, she checked her watch as she descended down the staircase. Only nine a.m., relax. She supposed she should stop by the kitchens and grab an apple or something to eat before she left, but her stomach was writhing sickly so she decided against it, heading straight toward the carriages that would take her to Hogsmeade.
The trip to Hogsmeade was short, and she was standing in front of The Three Broomsticks faster than she had hoped for. With a moment of mental preparation, she forced the door open and stepped inside the magically air-conditioned shop. The moment she stepped inside, her breath was punched from her lungs.
Striding towards her was Joseph Campbell, his face, as always, set with an air of arrogance mixed with a nature of strictness. Joseph was dressed in a business suit, as if he was here on some sort of official business, and his hair was combed neatly to the side, not a strand out of place.
"Clara, it's good to see you again," He said, nodding in her direction. He acts like he doesn't even know me, Clara thought with frustration.
"Father," Clara acknowledged, trying not to sound strangled. "What are you doing here?"
A naturally icy smile painted across his features, his cold blue eyes glinted. "I was here to make sure that our young man wouldn't be kept waiting," He told her. His eyes flitted to her dress and smiled wider, a mocking smile. "I see you're eager to make a good impression."
Clara forced a smile. "Of course I am," She lied.
"Well, I won't waste any of your time," Joseph said, putting a firm hand on her shoulder than made her shiver. He lifted his arm and pointed to a man with his back facing them at the back of the pub. "The young man is waiting."
Boom pow. I updated, huzzah! Sorry if it's a little... blah, I didn't do a proofread because I wanted to give you guys something to read really badly. Angels, eh? What are your thoughts?
"Clara! Come on! Why are you so afraid of having a little fun?"
"Oh Sirius, that's the thing. There's a fine line line between fun and foolishness."
YOU ARE READING
The Quiet Kind Of Beauty -Marauder Era
Teen FictionClara Campbell is about to finish her seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy along with her friends, the infamous Marauders and Lily Evans. But as the last month of school approaches, problem after problem starts piling...