During the next three days while the Curse Dissolving potion was steeping, Harry spent the majority of his time with Meadowsweet and Darkmoon, telling them stories of Hogwarts and his adventures with Severus in Animagus form and how he had managed to kill Voldemort for the second time along with Warrior. Darkmoon was quite impressed and Meadowsweet also. He hunted with both wolfen in hawk form in the afternoons, and sometimes were accompanied by Vlad, who had come to gradually accept both wizards as part of his pack.

When Harry remarked upon it one afternoon, after Vlad and Meadowsweet had brought down a fat creature called a lithmeer, which was sort of a cross between a possum and a rabbit, but it could blend into the background like a chameleon, the older wolfen just looked slightly amused. "When you saved the forest and freed the guardian trees from the spell of the evil warlock, you became our allies. More than any wizard ever has been. You risked your neck for us, and that is deserving of respect. Plus, when Darkmoon made you pack, he also made you both brothers to me. And I trust him not to give me a brother who's a treacherous bastard. So . . .I'm nice to you. Mostly."

"Gee, thanks," Harry drawled cheekily.

"Watch it, Freedom," Winterknight warned, half-jokingly. "If you annoy me too much, I'll invoke my rank as Beta and kick your ass."

"Only if you can walk on the air."

"I can jump," the other said. "But at the same time I'll also protect you from anything that threatens you. Up to and including your dumb Ministry officials." The wolfen said grimly.

"Guess I ought to be grateful for small favors," Harry murmured, smirking. He had a feeling that the prickly wolfen would be a good friend to have in a tight corner.

"You should," put in Darkmoon, who was skinning the day's catch expertly. "Vlad almost never offers to protect non-wolfen, honorary pack or no. Unless they're little kids. One time a little girl wandered in here and Vlad was in wolf form and heard her crying . . ."

Harry listened while Darkmoon related the story of how Vlad had transformed and helped the lost child find her way back to the forest's edge and then told her to remain in one spot so her people could find her easily. He had also watched from the wood's edge until her frantic parents and other members of her village discovered her and took her home.

Harry looked at Vlad and said, "I never would have figured you for a hero, Vlad."

The russet wolfen snorted. "Hero, my ass. I just couldn't stand hearing the brat crying. Gave me indigestion."

The other two wolfen chuckled and so did Harry. It would seem Vlad hid a kind heart beneath his façade of tough wolfen. Much like someone else Harry knew well.

"Well, next time somebody needs rescuing, I'll know who to call." Harry couldn't resist teasing.

"You do, kid, and I'll bite you!"

Harry just laughed.

Though he would have loved to spend more time with the wolfen, especially Meadowsweet, all too soon the last afternoon came, and Harry had to bid farewell to his new friends. Darkmoon, Vlad, Eris, Fenris and Sylva had volunteered to be escorts to them while they left the forest, just in case the werewolves were lying in wait somewhere among the trees.

While Severus carefully bottled the two vials of potion and stored them away, Harry walked with Meadowsweet to the edge of Sylvanor, where a round bridge overlooked a large stream that flashed silver in the sunlight. It was as private as the two were going to get without leaving Sylvanor to wander in the forest, and Harry knew he only had a few moments at best to say farewell.

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out something he'd wrapped in one of Snape's embroidered handkerchiefs-the man seemed to have an overabundance of them, Merlin only knew why, and had given several to his apprentice-and held it gently in one hand. "I'm really going to miss you," he admitted shyly. "So I thought maybe you'd like something to . . .uh remember me by. It's nothing special, just something I made last night. Sev helped me, actually . . ."

He handed her the small, flat, handkerchief-wrapped object.

"Thank you, Harry," Meadowsweet said, sounding like a child who had received her first ever birthday present. She carefully unwrapped the Slytherin-monogrammed cloth to reveal a lovely crimson feather quill, carefully wrapped with brown sinew along the shaft for a better grip and sharpened to a beautiful point. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly, her amber eyes glowing. "This is . . .why it's marvelous! It's a feather from a hawk, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's from me, one of my smaller tail feathers. I had Sev pluck it and then replace it with one of similar size and shape." Harry explained, rubbing his backside slightly.

"Did it hurt?"

"A bit." Harry hedged, actually he'd had a sore backside all night, as if he'd sat on a piece of glass, but he would rather be Crucio-ed than admit that to his girl. He'd tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable and sleep, until Severus had cast a Numbing Charm on him and gave him a few swigs of Dreamless Sleep. Then he'd slept like a baby. "But it wasn't too bad. And Sev spelled it so it'll always be sharp and not need trimming and be filled with ink too. That's why I didn't give you ink. You can write me, Sasha, if you want." He found himself blushing like a silly schoolgirl and looked away.

"Of course I want to!" she laughed. "I'll write as soon as you tell me it's safe for you to get letters. I love it, Harry! It's perfect and I will treasure it always." She gently ran the tip of her finger down the crimson feather, stroking it.

"It's just a quill."

"Wrong. It's a quill made by you, and therefore doubly precious." She gently rewrapped the quill and slipped it into a pocket of her tunic. "The handkerchief was from Severus, yes? I recognize the symbol of Slytherin House. Mum used to tell me about Hogwarts sometimes. She was a Hufflepuff." A look of terrible sadness passed over Meadowsweet's face. An instant later, it was gone. She reached into another pocket and withdrew a small square of white deerskin. "When I knew you would be leaving soon, I decided to make you a token . . .so you could look at it and remember me, and know that no matter how far away you are, I will still wait and think of you. I hope you don't think it's . . .too girly. Here."

Harry carefully unwrapped the petal-soft deerskin. Inside was a woven bracelet, braided with white fur and platinum hair, about a small polished moonstone. There was a small loop to put the knotted end through and cinch it. "This . . .it's your hair, right? And your fur from your wolf form?" he guessed correctly.

She nodded. "And the moonstone came from a necklace my mum gave me, the stone was loose, so I removed it and wove the hair and fur about it. I used to make friendship bracelets out of string when I was a little girl, my mum taught me how, so I just . . .thought it might remind you of me if I made one for you with some of my fur and hair." Now she was blushing too. "You don't have to wear it . . ."

"It's great. I really like it," he reassured her, then he slipped it on his left wrist and tightened the knot proudly. It glistened in the sunlight like a silver wisp of mist. "Whenever I look at it, I'll think of you, Sasha. Thanks." Then, because words seemed so inadequate to express his feelings, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

She tasted of honey and moonlight, kissed with cinnamon and the bittersweet tang of regret. He clasped her to him and wished like hell he never had to let her go. She felt so right in his arms, sleek and soft and she made him feel things he had never felt before . . .not even when he had thought himself in love with Cho Chang. Then, he had felt awkward and in awe of the Ravenclaw girl, and all he had dared to do was daydream about her, mostly. But this . . .this was to his infatuation with Cho like a bonfire was to a candleflame. The passion Sasha aroused in him was no tame little bit of puppy-love, no schoolboy infatuation. No, this was the stirrings of true desire, and the delicate beginning of a man's love for a woman he respects and admires.

And she responded to him, not with the tentative kiss of a girl unsure of what she wanted, but with all the passion and knowing of a woman who recognizes the other half of herself in the man before her. Her fingers fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, and she kissed him with reckless abandon, as if trying to imprint herself upon his very soul.

He gasped, then kissed her back again. Oh, Merlin! How I wish . . .we had more time! It's not fair. "Meadowsweet . . .Sasha . . .I would never leave unless I had to. You make me feel so . . .incredible." He whispered into her ear.

"And so do you, beloved. I wish you could stay too . . .but duty calls and you must answer."

"It's not fair."

"No, but what in life is? Destroy our enemy, Harry. Then return to me."

"I promise. I'll never forget you." He hugged her to him then, feeling a terrible wrenching pain in the vicinity of his heart, nearly the same pain as when he had thought Snape no longer cared for him. Only this was rawer, deeper, and it would not fade until he saw her again. "I . . .love you, Sasha. I love the girl and I love the wolf." The words fell from his lips, unbidden, but he knew as soon as he spoke them that he meant them.

"My sweet Harry. I love you too, Hawk-boy. And that is something I never thought I'd say. Not to a wolfen or to a wizard." She lifted her face to his and her brilliant amber eyes were luminous with tears. "Keep the bracelet. And know that somewhere the one who made it waits for you."

"I shall." He turned and looked at the wisp of silvery hair about his wrist, blinking hard. "Merlin, why does this have to be so damn difficult?"

"Because we belong together and goodbyes are always a pain in the ass." She replied, sniffling. "That's why I hate them."

"Me too." An errant tear slipped down his cheek.

She caught it on her fingertip. "Parting is such sweet sorrow," she quoted.

"You've read Shakespeare?"

"Of course. I wasn't always the wild woman of the wood, Harry," she chided. "My mother saw to it that I received a fine private education, with excellent tutors, she couldn't risk sending me to school for fear I'd change involuntarily, which happened a lot till I learned to control myself. I read nearly all of the Bard's work, he was a wizard with words. And he, like us, knew what it was to be parted from the one he loved." Her fingers moved up and ran through his hair.

"Yeah, most of his sonnets deal with lovers forced to part. I wonder who he left behind?" He leaned into her hand, and smiled. "God, that feels good. Don't stop."

She continued massaging his neck and head, murmuring, "Whoever she was, I hope he came back to her."

"What if he couldn't?"

"Then I hope she mourned him and then found a good man to spend the rest of her life with."

"Is that what you would do if I never returned?"

Meadowsweet shook her head. "No. Wolfen, like wolves, mate for life."

"Then I'll have to make damn sure I keep my promise, won't I?" he said tenderly. "Because you don't deserve to spend your life alone, Sasha love."

"We both deserve to be happy," she said firmly. "I used to think I was content with my life, until I met you, and I realized that what I had was only a shadow of what I could have. With you, I am complete."

"You were the last thing I expected to find here. I thought we would go into the forest, fight some bloody monster for the staff, destroy it, and go back home. Instead, we get ambushed, I get shot with sleep sap, and wake up to see you. You were like . . .something out of a dream . . .and yet I felt as though I knew you. Does that sound crazy?"

"No. Your heart is wise. It called to me and I answered."

"But . . .shouldn't it take longer?"

She looked puzzled. "Why? The heart knows what it knows. And it knows that I am yours and you are mine. Love is timeless, Harry. It can happen anytime. And what my heart loves today, it will love tomorrow, and for all of time. Don't be afraid, Harry. Trust your heart."

Could he? Dare he? Then he looked into her eyes and he saw the unwavering truth in them and he knew then this was right. "Okay. I will."

"Good. Now go and kick that bloody bastard's arse good, Hawk-boy." Then she kissed him one last time. "Until we meet again, Harry Potter."

He nodded, unable to speak past the sudden lump in his throat. But somehow it didn't matter, he knew she understood what he could not say. Reluctantly, he drew away and headed back to finish packing, giving her a brief wave. Then he hurried away, head lowered to hide the tears in his eyes, which remained despite his frequent attempts to blink them away. I will return, Sasha. By my magic, I promise you. Funny, when all those dead poets wrote about how it felt to be in love, none of them ever mentioned that it hurt like blazes to leave the one you loved behind. Maybe ‘cause it hurt too much to think about it.

* * * * * *

He was grateful that Severus didn't speak much to him when he returned to pack up his meager belongings in Meadowsweet's hut. He didn't have much to pack, but he lingered as long as possible over the chore, folding his clothes and shrinking them and rearranging books and other items. Anything to delay the inevitable.

Severus watched his ward covertly, out of the corner of his eye, noting the slight pallor in the boy's cheeks and the pain in the green eyes, despite the fifteen-year-old's attempt to hide it. Despite what some said of him back at Hogwarts, the Potions Master was not insensitive to others' feelings, and he remembered all too well what it felt like to walk away from one you loved and know it might well be the last time you ever saw them. At sixteen, he had lost Lily and a few years later, he had given up the brilliant witty apprentice Thea as well, because he had believed his duties as a spy conflicted with their relationship. He had believed she was better off without him, but even so it had not been easy to walk away from the only other woman who had ever seen him for Severus and not just a snarky Potions Master of irascible temperament. It had hurt just as much at twenty-one as it had at sixteen. To this day he missed her, and a part of him would always wonder what might have been.

The Potions Master studied his young apprentice, struggling with conflicting desires. Should he pretend he didn't notice Harry's misery, and allow the boy to come to terms with his sorrow himself, or should he ask what was bothering the boy and offer what poor comfort he could? He didn't want to embarrass the boy any further, adolescents were so touchy at that age, but he also knew that he would have given anything to have a friend to talk to after Lily had rejected him. He decided to test the waters a bit.

"Harry."

He looked up at his mentor, startled. "I'm almost done, Severus."

"I can see that." He coughed softly, wondering inanely how the hell other parents handled their teenagers in this situation. Would his prying make things worse? "You seem . . .upset about something. Would you . . .like to discuss it?"

The green eyes went wide and for one moment Harry wanted to sink into the floor. He noticed. Hell, Potter, of course he noticed. He notices everything, you ought to know that by now. Why are you so surprised? He's a master spy, for Merlin's sake! He fought the temptation to rub his eyes or crawl underneath the pallet his pack rested on. His first impulse was to blurt out, "No, I don't want to discuss it, you'd never understand how I feel." But scant seconds later he realized that was untrue. If anyone knew what it was like to have to give up someone you loved, it was Severus. And he had done it not just once but twice.

Licking his lips, which felt suddenly cracked and dry, he asked all at once, "Does it ever get any easier?"

"What do you mean?" Severus kept his voice low and even, yet with an encouraging note in it.

"Leaving. I never thought . . .it would be so damn hard." He sighed gustily and ran his hands through his hair, making it even more messy than usual. "Does the pain ever go away?"

Severus was quiet for a moment. "Eventually, it lessens," he replied, not wanting to tell the boy the whole truth and make him more miserable. Harry needed to be in a positive frame of mind for the rest of this quest, focused upon the task ahead, not mourning what was past. Doubt and depression might prove fatal. He walked over to where Harry was standing beside his bed, staring down at something, and gave the Animagus's shoulder a squeeze. "It isn't forever, Harry, though it may feel like it at first."

The boy looked up at him. "You would know, wouldn't you?" He shook his head slightly. "I promised to come back after all of this was over. "

"That is more than I ever did."

"You mean back in Rome, when you met that woman at the conference?" Harry clarified. "Why didn't you?"

"Because it wouldn't have been fair to her. I wasn't just a Potions Master or even a professor. I was a spy and a spy has no time for love."

"I think you were selling yourself short."

One raved brow arched. "You fall in love for the first time and suddenly you're an expert?"

"No . . .but maybe if you'd given it a chance . . ." Harry trailed off awkwardly. I cannot believe I'm having this kind of conversation with Severus, of all people. Maybe I'm still dreaming. "Did you ever . . .write to her after you left the conference?"

Snape shook his head. No, I was too much of a coward, my heart divided between her and my duty. It was far easier to walk away than to stay and risk losing my heart a second time. I was hardly every woman's fantasy, and she could have any man she wanted, why would she choose me, whose life was filled with deceit and whose heart belonged to another? "Fourteen years is a long time to wait for someone, fledgling. By now she's probably happily married with children or teaching in some university in Florence and has forgotten all about me. Unlike your Meadowsweet, Harry, she wouldn't wait for me and it's better off that way."

"You haven't forgotten."

Severus smiled self-deprecatingly. "The curse of a photographic memory, I'm afraid."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Harry argued. "Maybe it means you were meant to be together."

Severus snorted. "Harry, please. I am too old to go around begging an old flame to recall what was probably an amusing fling to her and nothing more. Unlike me she did not lack for companionship, half the young men at that conference had their eyes all over her." But she had eyes only for you, his traitorous heart whispered. She was barely aware of the way the other men were eyeing her up like a rare specimen of herb. He promptly told that part of himself to be still. "In any case, my loves or lack thereof, is not important. I made my choice long ago. Now you must make a choice too."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked warily. He can't ask me to give up Sasha. I won't!

"You have to choose to put away your feelings about Meadowsweet for the remainder of this quest, fledgling. You cannot afford to be mooning over her eyes or hair or . . .other things while you search for the forbidden objects, Harry. Your focus must be upon them alone, for a moment's distraction could spell your doom. Do you understand what I'm saying? The magic surrounding this next object is very old and powerful and it will exploit any weakness if given the chance. So for your own safety, you need to lock away your love for the wolfen. There will be time for love later."

"I won't forget her and I will keep my promise," Harry said stubbornly.

"Yes, I know. You have her token upon your wrist to remind you of your pledge. But for the love of Merlin, shelve your courtship for the moment, Harry, and remember why we came here and what we must do. You will need all your wits about you to find the next one."

"You know where it is then?"

Severus nodded. "I believe it is located in the place where Riddle grew up, the next entry in the journal mentioned ‘a place of beginnings and endings'. It also mentioned a place where the dead walked, and if that is what I think it is . . .we will need to brush up on your fire summoning skills. But first we must return to England and I am sure Fenrir Greyback is still lurking on the border, waiting for us, and we must be prepared to slip by him if we can. So, redirect your focus, Harry, because you can't return to her if you get killed."

"Okay, Sev. I'll do it. But . . .it'll be hard."

"Love is never easy, fledgling," the Potions Master said quietly, then he returned to finishing up his own packing, giving Harry time to reconcile himself.

Harry resumed packing, knowing that Severus's advice was sound, but resenting the fact that he had to give up the thing that made him so happy the moment he had found it. He wished none of this were necessary and he could be a normal teenage wizard, worrying about grades and whether or not he'd be allowed to go out on weekends and whatnot, instead of destroying the bits and pieces of a corrupt wizard's soul. He didn't want to end up like poor Severus, sacrificing everything for duty and then having nothing left but a lonely empty space in his heart. When's it our turn, dammit? He pondered angrily, shoving his extra robes inside his pack. When do you stop getting stuck playing hero and get to live your own life? He shut his eyes, and almost immediately, Meadowsweet's face appeared. He gritted his teeth and pushed the image away. Not now. Sev is right. Now is not the time. But someday, when Riddle is gone for good, then it'll be MY turn. I love you, Sasha, more than anything. Please don't forget me. Then he gathered up all of his newly fledged feelings for the wolfen Healer and did as his mentor had ordered. It hurt, and left a dreadful ache when it was through, like the phantom pain of a missing limb.

It's only for awhile, not forever. Just until this blasted quest is done, he reminded himself, then he cursed Voldemort roundly in his head for ruining his life once again.

* * * * * *

"Stay close," Darkmoon warned as they approached the border between the Forest of the Night and the lands belonging to Dracula. Thus far, the two wizards and the four wolfen had encountered nothing to impede their progress, and indeed the forest's entire atmosphere had changed since Harry and Severus had free the ring of guardian trees from Voldemort's binding. Mist and shadows no longer clung to the tree trunks and branches and birds now twittered in the treetops and squirrels and other small animals scurried through the undergrowth. Slowly but surely, the forest was awakening from its long winter sleep and casting off the gloom and darkness, returning to life. Granted, it would never be safe or tame, but it was no longer a place of cold and darkness, and the beauty that dwelled in its depths was no longer hidden. The dryads and nymphs that had fled in fear were slowly coming out of their trees, frolicking among the branches and giggling in the meadows, singing little tunes as they caught sight of the wolfen.

"Lord of Wolves," they trilled, giggling. "Come and play, Sylvanor's children. The sap in the oaks run freely again and spring has returned to the land."

"Later," Darkmoon told one bold nymph, who dared to swing down from a coiled vine and wrap her arms about him and kiss him smackingly on the lips. "I have a mission to complete first."

"You're no fun!" the tree sprite pouted prettily. "All work and no play, humph!" Then she leaped lightly into the oak above and vanished in a cloud of green sparkles.

Vlad and Fenris chuckled. "She fancies you, sir," said the auburn-haired Beta. "A lot."

"Aye, she had the hots for you, boss," Fenris yipped, his blue eyes crinkling merrily. "She was sweet too!"

Darkmoon rolled his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hide his blush. "Dryads fancy anything male when their sap's running, you ought to know that. Come on, we've a ways to go before we reach the border. Stay alert now." He blurred into wolf form and trotted ahead, taking point.

Harry didn't dare comment, but he longed to twit the older boy about the wood nymph's infatuation with him, the dryad had been well . . .voluptuous, and not at all shy about taking what she wanted! He stole a glance at Severus and saw the Potions Master smirking too.

Eris and Sylva gave derisive yips. "Walking talking fluffheaded bimbos," said the silvery-haired wolfen, sneeringly. "Their brains are only able to hold a single thought at a time and right now all they want is a man."

"I wouldn't mind-oww!" Fenris yelped as Eris smacked him sharply upside the head.

"I ever catch you making eyes at one of those little treehuggers and I'll skin you and hang you out to dry," she growled at him, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I wasn't serious, Eris, you know that," he said apologetically, realizing he had made a huge mistake admiring another girl in front of his mate. "You're the only girl for me, spitfire." He pulled her to him and kissed her hard then released her.

Eris looked mollified and Vlad groaned. "For moon's sake, you two! Quit your bickering before I tear strips off both of you! Now go scout with Darkmoon, Eris. I'll keep an eye on Mr. I'm-Only-Looking here. Sylva, go with her."

Her sister nodded in affirmation, then they became wolves and followed their leader, tails held high, clearly they didn't think the dryads were anything to brag about.

Winterknight cast a disparaging look at his brother wolfen, who flushed and hung his head, then became a large silver wolf, who lowered his tail submissively and then bounded off to scout to the right of the group.

"God strike me dead if I behave so idiotically over a woman," Vlad muttered, his bow half drawn, pacing next to Harry, utterly silent despite the twigs and dead leaves that littered the forest floor.

"You've never been in love then?" Harry queried.

"Never and I intend to stay that way. It's nothing but trouble. Look at Fen and Eris. Fen's a great scout, one of the best we have, but around his mate he gets all bubbleheaded and loopy. No thank you! If I want to lose all my brains I'll just run headfirst into a tree."

"Maybe you just haven't met the right girl yet," Harry teased.

Vlad made a gagging noise. "Listen, lover boy, just ‘cause you and Meadowsweet are all lovey-dovey doesn't mean the rest of us have to become brainless sheep and chase after skirts. I need a girlfriend like I need a plague of fleas."

And with that, he changed as well, becoming the russet and white wolf in an eyeblink, effectively putting an end to that conversation.

All banter ceased, however, when they drew near the border, and the wolfen went on red alert, for the border was where their enemies roamed. They were about fifteen yards or so from the forest verge when Darkmoon, who had transformed back and was walking next to Severus and Harry, stiffened and held up a hand.

The two wizards froze into immobility and Darkmoon tilted his head and sniffed the wind. He bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Then he hissed, "Werewolves! Close, not more than ten feet away."

"How many?" Severus whispered, barely audible.

"Nine or ten, I think. Be ready to transform and fly. The others and I will distract them long enough for you to get past the border." Darkmoon instructed.

"But how can you handle ten or twelve werewolves?" Harry protested. "There are only five of you."

Darkmoon clapped him roughly on the shoulder. "Little brother, leave the werewolves to us. We were born to fight them. I can take down two at once if I need to, and Vlad is almost as good a fighter as I am and Fen, Eris, and Sylva aren't pushovers either. Don't worry, Hawk-boy. You just concentrate on getting your butt outta here and go tell the Minister about us, how we helped you destroy that bastard Voldemort." He clasped Harry's wrists in a warrior's farewell. "Good luck, kid."

Then he turned to Severus and gave him the same warm clasp. "Take care, sir. Watch your back, and may the moonlight shine upon you."

"You as well, Erik. We will let our Minister know we owe the wolfen a great debt." Severus returned the clasp, then stepped away.

"When you hear me howl, you'll know it's time to transform," Darkmoon said, then he shifted into the black wolf marked with the holy crescent moon of the Goddess they worshipped, Selene, daughter of Night.

The black wolf crouched, teeth bared, an eerie snarl emerging from his throat. The amber eyes burned with battle fury and all the fur upon his back stood up, making him appear twice as large as he really was.

The same snarl was echoed from four other throats. It made Harry's skin prickle, for the sound was utterly hair-raising and filled with wild savagery.

All around them they heard terrible growls and howls as the werewolves scented their mortal enemies and close their circle about them.

Severus's hand gripped Harry's shoulder. "Wait for Darkmoon's signal," he murmured softly in the tense apprentice's ear. He fought to keep from going for his wand, for the werewolf noises were putting him on edge, and he struggled to push the old fear to the back of his mind. He knew Darkmoon's advice was sound, and he trusted the Alpha's instincts. But even so, the howls sent shivers down his spine. "Bloody damn werewolves!" he spat.

Harry's hand came up to clasp his own briefly, and he took comfort in that touch.

Then he heard an owl's soft hoot and Hedwig glided in to perch above their heads.

"Get ready to fly, Mistress Softfeather," Severus told the snowy owl.

Hedwig blinked her beautiful eyes in answer.

The werewolves were visible now, stalking up and down, prowling on misshapen hindlegs, crooked and clawed and sprouting dirty gray fur. They were a terrible parody of true wolves, with humped backs and shoulder filled with muscle and huge maws filled with razor teeth and eyes that burned with cunning and madness. Their snouts were pointed and their tails were bare save for a furred tuft at the end. They were mostly a steel grey in color, and the biggest was a mottled grey and black, with a large swath of grey down his back and tail. His eyes were a sickly reddish yellow, and when he caught sight of Darkmoon he threw back his head and howled.

The sound echoed through the trees, full of madness and hatred.

"Greyback," Severus growled, his black eyes burning. His grip on Harry's shoulder tightened painfully.

Darkmoon sprang suddenly, moving with unbelievable speed. He slammed into Greyback and bit down hard, his teeth just missing the throat as Greyback quickly turned his and brought up a clawed hand. The wolfen bit hard into the werewolf's shoulder instead, then released and spun away to grapple for a better hold. As he did so, he howled, long and low, and that was the signal for the rest of the pack to join.

Eris, Fenris, Sylva, and Vlad all sprang out of the trees and attacked the remaining werewolves, keeping them occupied and away from the two Animagi, who had already blurred into their hawk forms and streaked into the sky.

Hedwig too, took off from the tree and joined them in the air.

Freedom hesitated, looking down at the wolfen fighting the werewolves, they were tangles of silver and russet and grey fur, all fangs and claws. Blood flowed from lightning quick slashes and darkened the loam crimson. Yet, incredibly, the outnumbered wolfen were holding their own.

The big wolves were swifter than their werewolf sires, able to turn and twist like dervishes, and their jaws were extremely powerful. Freedom saw Sylva bite a werewolf's hand and snap it like a twig, leaving the monster screaming in agony until the she-wolf sprang in and silenced it forever with a quick bite to the jugular.

Fenris and Eris double-teamed one, hamstringing it between them and then closing for the kill.

Vlad finished off his opponent in moments, then went for another trying to jump Darkmoon from behind. The werewolf never even knew what hit him. Vlad bounced off two tree trunks and used the momentum to slam right into the nasty creature, breaking its neck in a single bite.

Freedom! Come, don't waste the time they've given us! Warrior called, and the red-tailed hawk reluctantly turned and followed the large bird out of the forest and into the sun-drenched meadow beyond.

Fight well, my friends! Kree-arr!

The sun dazzled the red-tail's eyes for a brief instant, he had grown accustomed to the filtered light of the forest. He blinked and squinted, it felt odd for there to be so much light, but then his pupils adjusted and he could see without a problem.

Below was the Forest of the Night, the vast wilderness spreading outward all the way to the Carpathian Mountains. And off the east was the gray pile of stone that was Dracula's castle. It loomed over the horizon like a great brooding vulture.

Freedom narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what that large black cloud was hovering over the castle. It appeared to be moving forward at a very accelerated rate, and there was no real wind to propel it. Uneasy, he called to Warrior, Warrior, what's that? It's moving toward us.

The goshawk paused, ready to scold his fledgling for dawdling instead of flying. His amber eyes turned in the direction Freedom was looking, and he nearly fell out of the air in shock. Great Merlin's ghost! That's a murder of maldecorvae!

It's what? A murder of what? Freedom screeched, suddenly able to make out individual forms in the cloud now. Warrior, they're birds! A whole flock of birds!

Maldecorvae are some of the nastiest birds you'll ever want to meet, Hedwig hooted, her eyes whirling in alarm. They are gigantic crows with beaks sharp as swords and they live to rend and tear and kill things. I have heard that Dracula keeps a murder of maldecorvae in his castle. I guess the rumors were true.

Now Freedom could see the giant crows, each one the size of himself or a little larger, flapping hard towards them. Their eyes were red and seemed to glow with a fiery light. They were also screaming, a low eerie caw that grated on his sensitive eardrums.

He shrieked back at them in challenge. Come on, you black devils! I'm ready for you!

Warrior came and bumped him roughly. This is no time for foolish heroics, fledgling! Fly! We cannot hope to defeat so many. There are over sixty of them, I think. Fly!

Freedom did not bother to question his mentor then, but spun on a wingtip and began flying away from the dark horde as swiftly as he could.

The maldecorvae followed, croaking out a harsh chorus. Blood and meat we see before us. Such a treat, we who never have enough to eat, now have a free meal! Come here, little hawks, and play with us. Play Fight and Flight and see us teach you the real meaning of predator and prey! Caw! Caw!

Freedom wriggled his tail insultingly at the maldecorvae. Eat this, you filthy carrion-scented winged rats. Rats with wing is all you are! Catch me if you can, gliders!

Then he put on an extra burst of speed, giving him at least a four wingspan lead.

Freedom was the fastest flyer of the three raptors, though Severus had the most endurance and Hedwig was the quietest and the most agile.

The three tore across the sky, using every scrap of speed they possessed to stay ahead of the maldecorvae flock, whose numbers blotted out the sun when they flew in front of it for a moment. The gigantic crows could not fly fast but they were relentless and starving. Dracula kept them in iron cages and fed them about once a week and only released them when he was requested to do so or wished to hunt with them. Perpetually hungry and half-mad from being the pets of a notoriously cruel vampire, the maldecorvae would devour anything that moved, human or animal without a shred of remorse. Scores of Transylvanian mothers had terrified misbehaving children by threatening them with the maldecorvae, "If you're bad the maldecorvae will come and peck you to death." They were also known as the eyes and ears of Count Dracula, a reputation that was justly earned.

Warrior had thought the maldecorvae might stop once they reached the border of Transylvania, but the maleficent crows showed no signs of slowing. Some of the birds were faltering and dropping back, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

The goshawk put on a fresh burst of speed, praying that there was some kind of ward set up at the border to keep the rapacious birds at bay.

But when he crossed and Freedom and Hedwig right after, he turned his head halfway around and saw, to his dismay, that the murder of maldecorvae was still coming, the sound of their wings was like the thunder of some gigantic heart, and the harsh caws and screeches sounded like a legion of the damned released from the bowels of hell.

The goshawk did a quick count of the birds, and came up with fifty, still terrible odds. Fly, fledgling! He urged the faltering Freedom, who had also glanced back, and was stricken with fear at the sight of so many sword-sharp beaks and ragged claws. The maldecorvae's eyes glowed an unnatural blood-red and the sunlight seemed to be absorbed into their dull black feathers.

Freedom flew hard, forcing his wings to catch every bit of wind they could, straining his muscles to the utmost. The maldecorvae's strident eager cries echoed in his ears and filled him with terror, and he used the fear to drive himself to even greater speeds. The crows could not match him for sheer speed, it was his single advantage over the evil birds and he used it ruthlessly.

A winglength behind came Warrior and on his opposite side was Hedwig, flying silently and surely. The mere sight of his companions made his heart quit panicking.

They passed out of Transylvania and into Romania and still the maldecorvae followed relentlessly.

The three flew for over an hour, fighting the sudden wind gusts that sprang up from the Carpathians. Those proved a blessing in disguise, however, for the maldecorvae were not good fliers and some of them were thrown off the pursuit by a tricky wind gust. Even so, Warrior sensed that if they did not do something drastic, the maldecorvae would catch them eventually, and exhausted from flying, would mob them en masse and destroy them.

He glanced at Freedom, who he could clearly see was tiring, and then at Hedwig, who still looked fresh, her training as a post owl holding her in good stead. We have no time to keep flying like witless hummingbirds. We must take some of them down, and maybe that will convince the rest that we are not easy prey.

He circled abruptly, trilling at Freedom, Freedom, fly ahead. Fly hard and don't question me.

But Warrior . . .

Obey me, fledgling! One of us must get free of this trap and live to destroy the final Horcruxes. Remember your oath! The goshawk snapped. Now, go! And he flew right at the startled red-tail and nipped him hard on the tail.

Freedom squawked indignantly and flew swiftly away from the goshawk as ordered.

Warrior looked at Hedwig. Do you think you can take some down with me, Hedwig?

It will be my pleasure to send those stinking buzzards to hell, Warrior! Hedwig hooted eagerly, her amber eyes burning.

The two began climbing into the blue vault of the sky, talons curved, waiting for the maldecorvae to come by.

Freedom spun about in the air, angry at being ordered away like a child, but he did not attempt to join the battle. He knew Snape's reasoning was dead on target. He knew he should be flying as fast as he could west across Romania and then south to Italy, where the warm breezes of the Mediterranean would soothe his weary wings.

Yet he could not bear to leave his companions without knowing how they fared.

So he hovered, and watched as Warrior and Hedwig engaged the murder of maldecorvae, marveling at the sheer speed of his mentor and familiar as they hurtled down upon the black cloud from on high.

The maldecorvae were unprepared for an attack from their prey, and were caught totally off-guard. Talons and razor-sharp raptor beaks tore and snapped and bound tight. Maldecorvae screeched and black feathers rained down upon the earth amid splatters of blood and crushed and broken bodies.

Before the maldecorvae could group together and attack the two larger birds, Warrior and Hedwig were climbing into the air again, and though they tried, none of the crows could manage to catch the two before they reached the pinnacle of their climb and then dove like streaks of lightning upon them once more, the hawks' wickedly sharp talons and beaks taking a devastating toll upon them.

Within the space of five minutes, Warrior and Hedwig had slain or knocked out of the sky twenty of the giant birds. They were battered from the maldecorvae's wings and had sustained several minor cuts and slashes from the crows' beaks and sharp claws, but nothing serious. Both the owl and the goshawk knew how to handle themselves in a close quarter combat, and could turn and spin at a moment's notice, avoiding a maldecorvae's strike and returning one twofold.

Freedom watched in awe as the two raptors tore the flock apart, reducing it to tatters. He had never seen anything like the battle that raged across the skies of Romania, with the remainder of the crows trying to harry the snowy owl and her goshawk companion and the two flying shoulder to shoulder in diving sorties that took the red-tail's breath away.

I never knew Hedwig could fight like that. And Warrior, I knew he was good, but not that good. Merlin! Half the damn flock is either dead or scattered. Wish like hell I could go and help, but Warrior will kill me if I disobey him. And I did promise to do what he said, no questions asked, when it came to a fight.

So, with a heavy heart, Freedom turned away from the battle and began flying south west, trusting in the skills of his companions to see them through the battle safely.

Warrior and Hedwig made one last lightning sortie before noticing the maldecorvae were starting to scatter at their own shadows and deemed them beaten enough. By mutual silent consent, hawk and owl turned and flew after the young red-tail, weary and aching, but triumphant.

Hai, Warrior! We showed those sneaking carrion eaters who was boss, no? Hedwig hooted happily, despite the lost feathers and cuts marring her snowy breast.

Indeed we did, my lady. The black cowards are flying away with their tails between their legs like whipped curs. Back to their dark master to cringe and whine about how they failed to capture three raptors. Come, let us find the fledgling and then a place to rest. I am more tired than I thought I would be.

The two caught up with Freedom in ten minutes and then the three sought a place where they could sleep in safety, for all of them were exhausted.

Finally, Hedwig spotted a large barn and they flew in through the loft window, there to roost above the lowing of cows and goats, sleeping soundly through the night and into mid-morning.

Upon emerging from the barn, they hunted for a rabbit and some shrews before finally continuing onward.

They had almost reached Rome when they noticed that their pursuers had returned, only this time there was not only maldecorvae, but werewolves on their track as well.