Harry woke up in the early morning as something landed with a heavy flapping on his chest.  Eyes snapping open and hand reaching for his wand, he propped himself up on his elbow and scowled at the drenched raven perching on his ribcage.  He opened his mouth to berate the bird but after a loud snore from Ron, decided against it.

Where.  Have.  You.  Been?

Jardin fluffed his feathers, shaking off water onto his bond, then replied in a sullen mental tone, < Flying.  I have to fly all the way from Snapeshire.  IN THE RAIN.  It’s not all roses and daises, y’know. >

Yeah.  Well, you missed everything.

< I don’t care about Quidditch, > snapped Jardin, bending his head to run his beak through the inner feathers on an extended wing.  He then blinked and turned his pale eyes on Harry.  < But you weren’t talking about Quidditch, were you? >

Harry rolled his eyes and replied, Hardly.  He quickly went over what had happened earlier, not missing telling the raven anything.  When he was done, Jardin looked very worried – as worried as a raven can look that is.

< Death Eaters, you say.  Come back when their master is still as spirity and non-existent as he was when you met him two years ago. >

One, if you count second year.

< Good point.  But why would they risk it? >

Because they knew people would flee in terror? Questioned Harry.

Jardin fluffed his feathers again and set to preening a wing before he answered.

< Another good point.  So you did look into the Dark Years like I suggested. >

But I didn’t find much more beyond what you’d already told me.  There’s not much info on those years really.  And what there is really isn’t what I was looking for.

< What were you looked for? > questioned Jardin.  < A way to destroy Voldemort? >

Harry was silent.

Jardin closed his wings an turned pale, worried eyes on his bond’s face as he hopped down to the mattress.

< You were, weren’t you?  Surely if there was one, someone would have gone through with it by now. >

Harry sighed and rolled over onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his arms.

I’m just worried, Jar, thought the teen.  Worried that Voldemort might somehow return with all his powers intact and…  He stopped.

< And take Severus away from you, > said Jardin, taking a step closer to his bond.

Harry nodded slightly and closed his eyes.

I don’t want to lose him, Jar.

< And you won’t.  He’s like a snake, that man.  He had the same street sense as you do, so he knows when its time to get out of a room or a situation. >  Jardin sidled up against Harry’s shoulder, spreading a wing over the teen’s back and laying his head against the teen’s neck.  < Don’t you worry now, my dear dominus. >

Harry lifted his head and tilted it so his cheek was resting against the raven’s still damp but warm feathers.  Jardin let out a deep sigh as he sensed his bond’s swirling emotions slow down and settle.

You still haven’t told me what that word means, mumbled Harry in a sleepy mental voice.

< Lord or master, > replied Jardin.  Sensing Harry’s surprise and slight distaste, he continued, < Like it or not, that is what you are.  My dear lord and master.  And I shall do anything to make sure you remain as such until such time as you are to leave me. >

Harry chuckled softly as Ron snored below him.

I know I’m safe with you, Jar.  And thanks for that rather morbid thought, too.

Jardin laughed and settled down against Harry’s shoulder, tucking his head under a wing.

< And I shall be here for you when all others are not.  Always. >

“Me too,” hissing Hedwig sleepily as she slithered across the pillow to wind her surprisingly warm coils about Harry’s hand.

The teen was filled with warmth at these remarks from two creatures he loved.  As he laid his head down on his arms, a warm presence, a sense of someone else filled him as he slipped into sleep.

In the girl’s tent, Niamh rolled onto her side, a small smile twitching at her lips as her mind unconsciously reached out to soothe the troubled presence of her best friend with a gift she was ignorant of.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

In the morning, Mr. Weasley came to Harry and Niamh with a note.  It had apparently been left pinned to one of the tents in the night.

Harry peered at his name scrawled on the front in his father’s familiar hand then ripped it open, pulling out the letter into the envelope.  It read as such:

Harry,

Lucius insisted I march with them last night.  Yes, he is a Death Eater and young Draco is well set to follow in his footsteps.  But do not worry.  I refused Lucius’ request, though it may have cost me my connections with those Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban with their lies.

I fear now that Lucius will have his eye on me and cast someone near our home to watch me.  It is no longer safe for you or Niamh to be there.  Should the Death Eaters find out you are my son…the consequences would be immense.  And I will not allow you to be put in that kind of danger.

Go to the Burrow with Arthur.  You things will be brought there by Marly soon.

I’ll see you again at Hogwarts.

Your father

And don’t allow those twins to get you in trouble with only a week left before term starts!

“Worried, is he?” said Niamh as she read the letter over her friend’s shoulder.

Harry frowned up at her from where he had taken a seat on the ground and growled, “And you seemed awful worried last night that he had been one of those marchers.”

Niamh flinched, cheeks flushing pink.

“I’m sorry, mate.  I should have known better having spent all summer with him and you.”

“Yeah,” said Harry in a slightly bitter tone.  “You should have.”  He sent her a hurt look as he added, “I thought you’d know better, Ni.”

Niamh looked abashed, ducking her head and mumbling, “I know.  I couldn’t help but think it.  But only for a minute, mate, I swear.”

Harry frowned up at her for a moment then pulled himself up and gave her a quick hug.

“S’human nature to think something like that, Ni.  Now come on.  Let’s go tell everyone the news.”

Niamh grinned and grabbed his hand as both of them ran to find Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.