Holly ran as fast as she could down the dirt track that began at the edge of the forest. Hagrid had told both Snape children on numerous visits that staying on the track was the safest path through the dark oaks, though that didn't mean that nothing could happen while you were on it. The wind had picked up as she moved, and now it tugged relentlessly at her hair, snarling it into unmanageable tangles. It swirled through the trees with a mournful wail, making her shiver, and the branches rustled loudly, clattering like a legion of poltergeists.

She stumbled once in her headlong flight, an overgrown root tripping her, but she quickly scrambled to her feet, ignoring her scraped palms. Soon there would be more for her to worry about than stinging hands. The sky had now darkened to something resembling dusk, even though it was still late afternoon. There were no birds singing, and all the small animals had ran and hid deep in their burrows.

The stillness was broken by the harsh caw of a raven, to Holly it sounded like it was screaming Beware! Beware! She recalled that Valina had once told her that ravens flew to warn those who dwelled in the forest of impending danger. Valina had been a master herbalist and also seemed to possess an instinctive understanding of animals, both domestic and wild. "It's a gift of my ancestors," she had told her daughter once. I wish you were here, Mum. But maybe I'll see you soon, if . . .if my vision was true.

She felt a terrible feeling go through her, part terror, part foreboding, it froze her blood and made her knees tremble. Something had been unleashed, she could sense it. The earth shook and she could hear the yelping and howling of hounds upon a scent and the drumming of hooves and the blowing of the hunter's horn.

Holly ran, her breath catching, ran as she had never run before.

Directly in front of her, she heard a wolf howl.

"Silver! Oh, Silver!" she half-sobbed.

Then the gray wolf was in front of her, growling softly and rubbing his great head along her chin. She clutched him to her and wept softly. "I'm so sorry! I wish I could stay here, but they're coming for me! Can you hear them?"

The wolf stiffened as the awful baying increased. He growled warningly, his amber eyes gleaming.

Then she heard a new voice. "Holly! Holly, where are you? Holly!"

"No, oh, no!" she moaned.

Silver gave a short crooning sound and Holly patted him. "Now there's two of us for you to protect, except . . . Go to Harry, Silver! Go! I'll . . .I'll wait here."

The big wolf took two steps away, back down the trail, then glanced back over his shoulder and barked sharply, as if to say Stay there and don't move! I'll be back!

Then he ran silently down the trail, following Harry's panicked voice.

He caught up to the other child in a few seconds, Harry was not as far behind Holly as it had seemed, and he too hugged the great wolf in relief. "Silver! Thank Merlin you found me! There's something . . .something wicked in the forest, I can feel it. And we've gotta find Holly, before something bad happens!"

Silver suddenly looked down the path, where the unearthly screeching wails were coming, and lowered his head, snarling furiously. He gave a sharp howl, filled with a terrible urgency, then he turned back and stood before Harry. He nudged the small wizard hard, then lay down on the ground.

Harry's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "Silver, this is no time for a nap! What are you doing? We've got to find Holly!"

Silver barked, looking at the boy and moving his head in an unmistakable indication.

"Huh? You want me to get on you? To-to ride you?"

Another nod and a soft snarl. Hurry!

Harry shrugged, then cautiously straddled the wolf's back. He gripped the thick loose fur on Silver's neck and wrapped his legs about the wolf's barrel. "Okay, I just hope I don't fall o-o-ff!" he yelped as Silver stood and then launched himself forward, running in great bounding leaps, his nose telling him Holly was somewhere ahead of them.

Harry gasped and clung, the wolf could really run, and at first he was afraid he was going to lose his grip, but then he slowly adjusted and started to move with the big predator. "Run, Silver!" he urged the wolf.

As soon as Silver had vanished down the trail, Holly turned and made her way deeper into the wood, crying silent tears of desperation. There was no hope left. This was what she had Seen in the vision.

And then Silver was there, with Harry upon him, and Harry was yelling, "Holly! There you are! Quick, get on!"

"Harry! No, please! I can't." She gazed up at him with a mixture of relief mixed with dread.

"Yes, you can. Come on, Holl! Before the . . .the bad thing comes!" He held out a hand.

She shook her head. "You don't understand! I can't come! Silver, take Harry and leave! Please!"

"No! I'm not leaving you here!" Harry shouted. "You're my sister!"

"Then you'll die!" Holly screamed. "I Saw it! That's what I Saw in the fire!"

"I don't care! You come with me, Holly, right bloody now!" Harry ordered. "All or nothing!"

Before Holly could protest again, Silver snapped at her, his teeth just grazing her calf. His amber eyes bored into hers and she understood then that nothing would make them leave her. Stop this foolishness and get on my back! Now!

"Holly, come on! They're getting closer!"

"All right." She took her brother's hand and he swung her aboard Silver's back. She clung to him, shivering. "Maybe . . .maybe I was wrong."

Harry nodded, and then Silver began to run, veering off the path and through the trees and gorse.

"Where are we going?" she cried.

"I don't know! I hope it's somewhere safe." Harry panted.

Behind them, they could hear the hounds coming closer.

Silver laid his ears back and continued running hard.

"I don't think we can outrun them," Holly said. "In my vision, the hunt caught us. It's some kind of ghosts and evil dogs."

"Well, maybe it'll be different this time. Seers don't always see true." Harry said, clinging hard to Silver.

The big wolf jumped over a fallen log, sprinted through a stream, never slowing. He was attempting to run in a circle, using his knowledge of the forest to try and circle back and get free of the wood so he could get to the castle, where the wards might be strong enough to halt the progress of the Wild Hunt.

Remus knew that was what hunted them, he had read the legend in the library at Hogwarts as a student and again as newly fledged Auror for his Academy training. But the Hunt had been locked away for centuries, he thought, his breath rasping in his throat. Until now. Somehow, dark magic had freed them from their eternal sleep, and now they had chosen Holly as their quarry.

Silver slowed a little, trying to husband his strength, for though possessed of magical endurance, he was not immortal, and the cursed spectral hunters and the one who led them were tireless, relentless, and no one in living memory had ever escaped the Wild Hunt.

But Silver was determined to try. He quickened his pace, ignoring the eager cries of the pack of hell hounds, Harry and Holly clinging to him like two burrs.

* * * * * *

It was the last period before he went back to his quarters to tutor Draco and his two children, and Severus was thankful for it. Something was causing his magic to prickle warningly, and it only responded that way if dark magic were being used in a great quantity somewhere nearby. He had developed that sensitivity to dark workings when he had become a spy and took the dark brand. The brand had long since gone dormant, but it still tingled on occasion in the presence of dark magic.

Right then it was doing more than tingling, it was itching enough to drive him mad. He surreptitiously rubbed his arm under the cover of his robes and swore roundly. Who in Merlin's name was drawing so heavily on the lefthand path? Well, he knew of one dark practitioner who might have done so, but he wasn't near the school last Snape knew. Of course, that didn't mean a damn thing, considering it was Lucius.

He walked around, monitoring the small group of NEWT seventh years, noting in relief that all seemed to be going well. Considering the hell he'd gone through earlier with his double potions, he was ready to dismiss this class early just on principle. All of them were serious potions students, industrious, obedient, and not inclined to idiotic pranks or distractions.

Last class, he had two melted cauldrons from students not paying attention and misreading instructions, and three getting splattered with Swelling Solution due to a prank by two of their fellow classmates, Gryffindors on Slytherins. They had promptly received zeros and detention with him tomorrow evening, where he was planning on having them re-do the lab again and then pickle rat spleens.

The itching increased and now Severus also felt a sudden stirring in the air and a pressure like thunder about to be released. He scowled, someone was summoning something, and from the feel of it, not a simple imp or hellion, but something far greater.

Several of the students felt it too, and looked up uneasily.

Then there came a tremendous crack of sound and a smell like lightning.

All seven students jumped and one cried out, "Professor, what's happening? Something's wrong!"

"Did something blow up?" cried another, a Ravenclaw, her face ashen.

"It wasn't me!" muttered a Gryffindor, who had once been known for pulling pranks as a first year.

"Maybe the castle's collapsing!" moaned a Hufflepuff.

"Quiet, all of you!" Snape hissed. "Whatever has happened has nothing to do with you. Finish your solutions and bottle them, then go back to your common rooms."

"But sir . . ."

"Do as I say, Mr. Jones!" snapped the Potions Master. "I am sure the Headmaster has it under control." Actually, Severus was sure Albus had sensed the summoning too, but whether or not he knew anything more was debatable.

Five minutes later, all the students had finished decanting and labeling and had cleaned up their workstations and left.

Severus put their products in a cabinet, he would grade them later, then he Flooed to Albus's office.

He discovered the Headmaster pacing about and looking very grave. The twinkle was gone from his eyes, and Severus knew that was a bad sign. Albus was an optimist and when he quit smiling it meant trouble . . .big trouble.

"Ah, Severus! I was just about to call you, my boy."

"Albus, what is going on? I can feel a dark summoning, it's set off my brand," Severus hissed, quickly casting a Silencing Charm over the office.

"I know. I can feel it too, and I fear we are in grave danger. For that summoning was no ordinary one, to call up a lesser ghost or demon. No, whoever performed that ancient ritual was intent upon calling up the Wild Hunt."

"The Wild Hunt?" Severus cried. "But Albus, the Hunt has been bound for centuries and all the tomes with spells to summon it were destroyed long ago."

"Not all, Severus. There was one that was never found, though it was sought after for many years. It had been hoped it was lost for good, but that is no longer the case. In centuries gone by, the Hunt was usually called upon Halloween. This time, however, it has been summoned out of season, to be set upon a specific quarry."

"But what quarry?" Severus wondered.

Just then there came a pounding upon the door of the office, and Narcissa's frantic voice emerged from beyond the door. "Headmaster, I need to speak with you, please! My son has gone missing! Please, let me in!"

The door swung open at Albus's gesture, and a frantic Narcissa entered. Her normally coifed blond hair was hanging down untidily over her face and her bright blue eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her normally neat robe looked as if she had caught it in a bunch of thorns, it was wrinkled and the hem was dirty. "Severus! Oh, thank the Goddess you're here too. Draco is missing, I can't find him or Holly or Harry anywhere!"

"Narcissa, my dear, calm down," Dumbledore began.

"What do you mean, you can't find them, Cissa?" Severus cried. "They're not in my quarters?"

"No. Nor in mine. And I checked the hall and your classroom, I thought they might have come to you for something, but they were nowhere. I even went down to Hagrid's, but he hasn't seen them all day, and there's an odd feeling in the air and something dark upon the wind." Narcissa was shaking, small tremors that made her twitch.

"They were supposed to be helping Filch in a storeroom this morning and afternoon," Severus recalled. "Have you spoken to him?"

"No . . .Oh I do hope they're with him . . ."

Severus did too. The Wild Hunt unleashed and his children gone missing . . .It was the stuff of nightmares, indeed, it had been his nightmare a week past, he remembered and a sickening premonition surged through him. Please, let it not be so . . ."Albus, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and find my children. I shall return to you once they are found and help you discover who is behind this."

"Go, Severus. But be careful." Albus waved him off, knowing the younger wizard would never consent to stay put if his children were in danger. And if what he feared was true . . .they were in danger of becoming the Hunt's quarry.

"What's going on?" Narcissa asked as they made their way down the stairs.

Severus told her as they half-ran down the corridor to Filch's set of rooms. "If I had to guess, I would say Lucius is behind this. Or perhaps Throckmorton."

"But he's dead! The hawk ate him!"

"Did it? Or was that what we were led to believe?" Severus asked coldly. "I didn't see the mouse being swallowed. It could have been a trick. Do you know if Lucius ever had an Animagus form?"

"Uh . . .I think he may have, but he never told me what it was." Narcissa looked faintly ill.

"Well, if it was a hawk, then Throckmorton isn't dead," Severus said grimly. They had reached Filch's rooms and Severus knocked on the door. "Argus, it's Professor Snape."

Filch opened the door. "Aye, sir? What can I do for ye?"

"Do you know where Holly, Harry, and Draco are?"

"Y'mean they haven't come back yet?" Filch asked, alarm written all over his face.

"Back yet? Where did they go?" demanded Snape.

"The two boys went off lookin' for your little girl, sir." Filch quickly told them how Holly had left and not returned and the boys had figured she had gone to the corral to pet the unicorns. "I haven't seen 'em since, sir. But Holly's kitten is still with me." He pointed to where Magik was sleeping in Mrs. Norris's cat bed.

"Let Magik stay with you, Argus," Severus said. "Come, Cissa. I shall cast a locator spell once we have reached the corral with the unicorns and see where it leads."

He led the witch from the castle at a dead run.

By the time they reached the corral, the sky had become a deep purplish black streaked with silver flashes of lightning, a harbinger of destruction and evil the Hunt brought in its wake. The air was heavy, as if laden with storm clouds and the aura of blood magic was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Snape's arm was itching and burning like mad, not quite as bad as when Voldemort used to summon the spy through the Mark, but it resonated to the dark pulse of magic.

From far away they could hear the echoing cries of the spectral hounds and the yells of the hunters as they stalked their quarry.

"Where rides the Wild Hunt, there rides Death," Narcissa hissed, her face drained of color.

Inside the corral, the unicorns were restless, the fillies cowering and neighing in fear and the mares snorting and stamping, their horns lowered threateningly.

There was no sign of the children.

Severus drew his wand and cast a locator spell.

Almost immediately he felt a persistent tug, off to the east . . .right into the Forbidden Forest.

"Dear sweet Merlin!" he groaned. "They've gone into the Forest."

"What? But why?"

"I don't know. But they're somewhere in there." Severus said. "And so is the Hunt."

Narcissa looked as if she were about to be ill. "Gaia preserve them! We have to find them, Severus! Anything could be happening to them. They could be lost, or hurt, or . . ." she didn't finish her sentence, but they both knew how it ended.

"Yes, but how can we find them quickly? It's too dangerous to fly into the forest and Apparating will do us no good either. But we need to find them fast."

He gazed about, in a hopeless moment of indecision, and it was then that one of the mares neighed sharply. Severus turned to look at her, and saw that she was kneeling down, her front hooves stretched out before her in a reverence.

"What the bloody hell . . .?" he gasped, for unicorns never reverenced a wizard unless they wished them to mount, and no wizard had ridden a unicorn in over a century.

"Severus!" Narcissa cried, indicating the other mare. "Look! She wants me to mount."

Shocked, Snape just stared at the unicorn, until the mare blew out sharply and trumpeted. Then he opened the gate and entered the corral. "It would seem, Cissa, that we are being given a great privilege. Perhaps they wish to help us find our children."

He approached the unicorn cautiously, thinking that he had never ridden anything save a broom before and praying he didn't end up breaking his neck.

The unicorn looked him right in the eyes and snorted, indicating her back with a swift toss of her horned head.

Severus threw a leg over her and sat down stiffly, trying to grip the silken hide with his legs as best he could. He felt like a two-year-old trying to straddle a rocking horse, it was so awkward.

But then the unicorn rose and something odd happened. Severus felt a feeling of peace settle about him and he relaxed and had no more fear of falling off the unicorn. He knew that no matter how fast the unicorn ran, he would remain on her back.

Narcissa was already mounted on the other mare, looking as if she had been born to the saddle. Being a pureblood, she had riding lessons as a small child, riding being considered a noble activity. She stared at Severus in awe. "I . . .didn't know you could ride, Severus."

"I can't, but I'll manage." Snape replied, fisting a hand in the flowing mane.

"I didn't think unicorns permitted men on them," Narcissa muttered.

Severus didn't care a whit about the old legends. "Come on! Let's move!"

The two unicorns turned, whickered comfortingly to their foals, then galloped straight at the corral fence.

Before Severus had time to blink, they had soared easily over the fence and landed on the other side. In two strides they were racing across the grass and into the forest, Severus leaning on his mount's neck and whispering directions in her ear.

The unicorns ran so gracefully and swiftly it seemed as if they were flying, their silver hooves hardly touching the earth, yet even so Severus prayed they would be in time.

* * * * * *

Herne could feel they were getting close to their quarry, despite its ability to run faster than he thought possible. He could smell the fear and the tender innocence of the girl he had been compelled to mark as prey, and it left a bitter taste in his throat. In all the centuries he had led the Hunt, never had he hunted one so innocent. He generally chose quarry that was filled with hate or had committed a terrible crime or was bloated with evil, that way when they finally killed them at hunt's end, they would become part of his huntsmen, bound and cursed to hunt eternally and never know rest or surcease from pain, as befit their wickedness in life. He alone was actual flesh and blood and not a spectral revenant.

He was bound by a curse of one he had loved and lost long and long ago, when the world was new and wizards had just begun to leave their solitary towers and form academies like the one that rested upon the hill beyond the forest. Cursed with immortality, he had ridden at the head of the Wild Hunt for so long he had almost forgotten what he once was. Almost, but not quite.

And he did not like this quarry he was forced to pursue. The death of innocent children had never sat well with him, though sometimes such a death was inevitable, if the child had been caught out after dark upon Samhain Eve. Still, the summoning bound him to obey his summoner, and thus he had no choice but to seek out the child and give her a hunter's death.

The horned head dipped and the Master of the Hunt sighed. His riders and hounds would be sated only with blood and they did not care whose blood they spilled, so long as they could feed off the quarry's death and pain and blood.

He exhaled sharply, tasting the wind. The scent of a great wolf now mingled with that of two children, an odd combination. But no matter. He would fulfill his contract . . .he was bound by the magic that had summoned him from sleep. Unless something else occurred to make him break it, though that was unlikely. There were only two ways a contract could be broken.

One was if the quarry were related by blood to Herne himself and the other was by a willing substitute. And he doubted if any of his get now remained upon the earth, and few there were who give up their lives for another, knowing what fate awaited them.

He heard the hounds bay loudly, the quarry was in sight, and the spectral dogs needed no urging. They swept across the ground, red eyes burning with a dreadful need to rend and tear.

Only to be met by a gigantic wolf whose coat gleamed molten silver in the moonlight.

The wolf bared his teeth and snarled, and the hounds checked and then attacked the animal en masse.

The wolf danced away, avoiding the pack, then sprang in to grab a hound by the neck and shake it hard. The dog, half specter though it was, yelled in pain as the wolf's teeth tore through its white hide, and then the wolf jerked hard to the right and there came a crunch and the hound was dead, its neck broken.

The wolf howled triumphantly and tossed the hound aside, preparing to fight the next challenger.

Behind the wolf huddled two children, a dark-haired boy and a blond-haired girl, cold and terrified.

Herne galloped up, avoiding the wolf and the hounds battling, and drew rein in front of the two children. His quarry had been found. He drew back his great long bow, prepared to send an arrow mercifully into the girl's heart.

He stared for an instant into her sapphire eyes.

And checked, lowering his bow. "It cannot be," he muttered.

At the same moment there was a flash and the two wizards who had summoned him and a blond-haired child appeared in the clearing as well.

"What are you waiting for? Kill her!" cried the blond one.

Herne swung on him, piercing the dark sorcerer with his glowing emerald eyes. "I decide the Final Death, not thee. Now be still!" He turned away, fixing his gaze once more upon the fragile girl standing half-defiantly before him, one hand gripping that of a slightly taller boy.

The rest of the Hunt swirled and yammered behind him, crying out for blood, but Herne held up a hand and they were still. He cracked the long whip at his belt, summoning the pack to him, and the hounds obeyed, snarling and whining reluctantly, for the bloodlust was upon them, but they came back to crouch about his steed's hooves.

The wolf, bleeding from over a dozen cuts, managed to limp over to the children and place himself between them, defiance in his eyes, though Herne sensed he was close to death.

"No! Silver!" cried the girl. "Oh, why didn't you run when I told you?" She and the boy knelt to stroke the great head, choking back tears.

Compassion for the beasts of the wood, the Hunter thought proudly, then shook his head. He had been sent to slay this one, and any others who got in his way.

"Child, thou were marked as my quarry, and thus I am bidden to take thee. However, I would know something first. What is thy name?"

"Her name is Holly Amanda Sinclair and she is my daughter," came a new voice. "And if you must have a sacrifice, you may take me instead. A life for a life."

Holly whirled, stricken, to see Severus and Narcissa ride up on Duchess and Dancer. "No, Severus! Don't! Then who will save Harry?"

Severus froze, his eyes darting from his daughter to his son, both in mortal peril. His features twisted as if he were in agony. No! How can I choose?

Throckmorton erupted into laughter. "Poor Snape! Trapped, you are, Potions Master, between your son and the worthless Squib you took into your home! Save me, Daddy! Only you can't save them both! Who then shall you choose? Either way . . .you lose!"

"Be still, you fool!" Lucius shouted, keeping a tight hold on his son, whose face had lit up at the appearance of the professor and his mother.

"Lucius, you bastard!" Narcissa shrilled. "Give me back my son, you perverted child stealer!" She pointed her wand and a glowing blue ball of flame surged from it, making Lucius twist hard to avoid getting hit by her spell.

"Control yourself, wife!" spat her husband. "You are unfit to be a mother to my son, and therefore he stays with me."

"No! A child belongs with his mother, thus it was and thus it ever shall be!" Narcissa cried. "Now, for the last time, give me my child! Or suffer the consequences!"

Lucius laughed mockingly. "What, do you think you are a match for me, darling? Have you grown a spine at last? For if so I shall enjoy breaking it. Go home, Cissa. Be content with the divorce settlement, I was more generous than you deserved." He raked her up and down with a scathing look. "Why don't you shack up with old Snape, then the two of you can weep over the loss of your children together?" He thrust Draco at Throckmorton, who grabbed the boy and held him tightly. Then the master of Malfoy Manor growled, "Finish this, Herne the Hunter! The quarry is at bay, now take her! I command it!"

But the Horned One reined in his steed, and fixed the wizard with a hardened glower that made Lucius flinch and take a step back. "Silence! I am Master of my Hunt and I decide when the quarry is to be taken, not thee, insignificant worm! Thou may have summoned me, but I bow my head to no mortal! Lest thou forget, I am the God of the Wood, and all who dwell here pay homage to me. Before the sacrifice is decided, there is a tale I must tell. Hark, and be still!"

And at those words, a veil of silence settled about the clearing, rendering all within it mute, save for Herne, who nodded and then began to speak.