“Potter!”

Harry looked up from his breakfast to see Marcus Flint walking very quickly towards him.  It was a week after Christmas holidays and apparently close to the next Quidditch match.

“Yeh?”

“We’ve got to play Hufflepuff in a week.  Normally they’re a pushover but with that new Seeker of theirs….  They say he’s good but I wouldn’t know.  I expect you to be at every practice, understand?”

Harry nodded and said, “O’ course.”

“Good,” grunted Flint and walked off.  As soon as he was gone Niamh said, “The nerve!”

“Wha’?”

“Ordering you around like he’s an army general or something!”

“Ni, e’s Quidditch Captain.  It’s ‘is job ter order me around.”

Niamh gave him a disgruntled look then looked up at the ceiling.

“Mail’s here.”

“Mmm.  An’ there’s Jardin.”

The raven winged in with the owls, earning a few surprised shouts and pointed fingers.  He flew down and landed on Harry’s shoulder, dropping a letter into his plate.  Harry stroked his feathers and picked it up, shaking a bit of egg off of it.

Who’s it from?

< Ron. >

Harry opened the letter and read it, poking Niamh and showing it to her once he was done.

Harry,

We’ve got trouble.  Hermione dragged me down to Hagrid’s hut yesterday.  He’s got a dragon!  A Norwegian Ridgeback, which are real vicious.  It bit me too.  At least it was my left hand not my right.

Niamh whispered, “How does that constitute as trouble?  He’ll get out of class.”

Harry replied, “Keep readin’.”

Trouble is, Malfoy saw Norbert (that’s what Hagrid named that vicious little bugger).  Hermione convinced Hagrid to get rid of Norbert before he gets in trouble.

“Why would he get in trouble?”

“Dragon breedin’s illegal.”

“Oh!”

Anyway, she had me write my brother Charlie (you didn’t meet him at the Burrow) and ask if he could take Norbert.  Some friends of his are coming Wednesday night to the tallest tower.

“What exactly does this have to do with us?”

“Keep readin’.”

Hermione decided to wrangle you two into it by saying the three of you could take Norbert up to the tower to meet Charlie’s friends.  I’d be there too, but I’m stuck in the Hospital Wing.  Hand’s swollen to twice its size and is green.  Is that bad?

Ron

Niamh frowned at the letter and said, “Poor Ron.”

“Poor Ron?  Poor us!  ‘Agrid’s got a dragon that we ‘ave ter get rid of an’ Malfoy knows about i’.  We are much more poor tha’ Ron in this situation, Ni.”

Niamh nodded and Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table.  Hermione caught his eye and arched her eyebrows.  Harry nodded slightly then turned away, stuffing the letter in his pocket.  Jardin had hopped down to the table and was eating his eggs.

Jardin!

The raven batted a pale eye at him and said, < I’m hungry. >

Oh, alright.  Eat my food.  I’m too nervous to eat anyway.

< What is going on? >

Nothing really.  Hermione just wrangled me and Niamh into a plot to get rid of an illegal dragon by taking it up to the tallest tower on Wednesday night to give to some friends of Ron’s brother Charlie.

< Sounds dangerous. >

You have no idea.

< You can do it.  You have an invisibility cloak after all. >

Harry blinked at the raven.

Good point.

< All of my points are good. >

Harry chuckled softly at his raven, which seemed to smirk at him.

“Hey, Potter!  You know raven’s aren’t allowed, don’t you?”

Harry and Niamh both turned to glare down at the table at Draco and were about to say something when a smooth voice came from behind them.

“The circumstances are special, Mr. Malfoy.  The Headmaster informed the teacher’s of the situation himself.  Mr. Potter’s raven has as much right to be here as the eagle owl that is about to relieve itself on your shoulder.”

Draco turned his head to his owl and shrieked, “ACK!!!!”

Snape and Harry smirked at the exact same time, earning a wide-eyed stare from Niamh.  Then Snape turned to Harry and said, “An interesting gift, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded and stroked Jardin’s back as the raven pecked at his toast.  He smiled and said, “Yeh.  If on’y I knew who sent ‘im.  I’d like ter thank ‘em.  E’s not Hedwig but Jardin’s wonderful in ‘is own way.”

Snape nodded.

“I am certain he is, Mr. Potter.  Good day.”

As he walked off Niamh hissed, “My God…”

Harry looked at her in confusion and said, “Wha’?”

“You…you….”

“Spit it ou’, Ni.”

Niamh – eyes wide as saucers – leaned forward and whispered, “You and Professor Snape looked just alike when you smirked!”

“WHA’!!”  Harry smiled sheepishly at those around them then hissed, “Wha’ are ye implying, Ni?  Tha’ we’re related or somethin’?”

“I never said that!  I just said you looked alike when you smirked!”

“Yeh, I heard ye.”

“And then there’s the hair…”

Harry scowled at her.  “Wha’ about me hair?”

Niamh held up her hands in defense and replied, “I never said there was anything wrong with it!  Its just that…”

“Jus’ that what?”

“Well, erm, y’know over Christmas hols when the water didn’t work in the dungeons?”

“Yeh.  Me hair got greasy, li’ it did on the streets.  Wha’s yer point?”

“That’s just it, Harry!  Snape’s hair is greasy and yours got greasy.  Surely that means something!”

“Yeh.  When neither o’ us takes a bath, our hair ge’s greasy.”

“Harry!”

“I was’n implyin’ that ‘e doan take a bath!”

“Well, it sure sounded like it!”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

“C’n we talk abou’ this later?”

“Yeah.  Sure.”

“T’anks.”

Harry turned back to Jardin, who was pecking at the last remnants of his toast.

Jar.

< Harry? >

Do you think Snape and I look alike?

The raven tilted his head at Harry then looked up at Snape sitting at the end of the staff table talking to Quirrell.

< A little.  You both have long, dark hair and are pale and have a few similar expressions but beyond that nothing.  Why? >

Ni said something about it.  Surely you heard her.

< Sorry, paying attention to the toast. >

You sound like Ron.

Jardin blinked a pale gold eye at him.  < Is that a good thing or a bad thing? >

Harry shrugged and replied, Take it as you will.  He looked around then turned back to the raven.  You probably should head back up to the Owlery now.

< I could just go down to the dungeons. >

Harry shivered at the thought, remembering leaving Hedwig down there before the Quidditch match…

No.  I don’t want you down there without me with you.  That’s how…how Hedwig got killed.

Jardin appeared solemn and bobbed his head.

< I see.  Then I shall come visit you after classes. >

Dinner.

< Dinner it is.  By the by, when are you going to tell your friends I can talk? >

Harry frowned and replied, I wasn’t actually considering it…

< I would consider telling them.  While you have been talking to me, Niamh has been calling you. >

Damn, spat Harry then looked at Niamh.

“Harry!”

“I’m ‘ere, I’m ‘ere.  No need ter shout.  Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Class, you daft goose.  C’mon!  We’ve got Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs.”

“I know, Ni.  And I go’s somethin’ ter tell ye on the way.”

“Really?  Let’s go then.”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.”

Harry gathered his bag and looked at Jardin, who was rustling his feathers irritably on the table.  He looked and saw Quirrell eyeing the raven coldly.

Jar?

< Yes, Harry? >

Why is Quirrell looking at you like that?

There was a pause then the raven replied.

< I don’t know.  But I get a bad feeling off of him. >

“Tha’ makes two o’ us,” muttered Harry under his breath.  He thought at Jardin, Well, be careful.  I don’t want to lose you like I lost Hedwig.

< No problem there, Harry.  I have more gifts than just being able to talk. >

Glad to hear that.  Oh, and I’m going to tell Niamh that you can talk on our way to Transfiguration.

< Will she believe you? >

If she doesn’t, you can have a little chat with her tonight, can’t you?

Harry swore the raven gave a mental smirk.

< An excellent point, my dear dominus.  I think I shall leave before that creature burns a hole in my head by simply glaring at me.  Good day. >

Harry watched as Jardin took flight and flew over his and Niamh’s heads as they exited the Hall.  As they walked, he wondered what the word ‘dominus’ meant.

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

“You mean to tell me that the raven you got for Christmas can talk?”

“Keep yer voice down!  And, yeh, ‘e can.”

“Harry, I know this is the wizarding world, but ravens don’t talk.”

“’E said e’s the on’y one who can.  C’mon, Ni, believe me.”

Niamh frowned.

“I’ll believe you if I hear it from him.”

Harry beamed.

“Alrigh’.  E’s goin’ ter be comin’ down ter the dungeons tonigh’ af’er dinner.  Ye c’n talk to ‘im then.”

“Well, that’s settled.”

“Miss O’Feir, Mr. Potter, would you mind horribly getting back to class?”

Harry and Niamh both looked sheepishly up at McGonagall, who was frowning at them.

“Sorry, professor.”

“Sorry, professor.”

“Hmm,” said McGonagall and returned to teaching.  Harry cast a sidelong glance at Draco, who appeared to be looking at him rather strangely.

Had he heard what Harry and Niamh were talking about?

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

“So, erm, how do I do this?”

Harry sighed and explained how to talk to Jardin again.

“Ye jus’ think what ye wan’ ter say and direct i‘ at ‘im.  E’ replies in the same way.”

Niamh took a deep breath and said, “Okay.  Here goes.”

Jardin?

< Yes? >

Bloody hell!

Both Jardin and Niamh looked at Harry, who had tumbled out of his chair.

“Harry, what…?”

< What happened? >

Harry sat up and said in a hushed tone, “I heard ye.  I heard ye talkin’ to ‘im, Ni.”

Niamh blinked while Jardin looked rather smug.

< Well, that’s supposed to happen. >

It is?

It is?

< Yes. >

Harry arched an eyebrow.  How’s that?

< Well, according to what I know, there used to be many more of my kind.  In different forms. >

Your kind? said Niamh.

Jardin bobbed his head in a nod.

< Talking birds. >

How do you know?

< I am actually several hundred years old.  We’re immortal to a point, you know. >

Harry and Niamh shared a glance then Harry asked, What’s the point?

< The Killing Curse, > replied Jardin.  < We can block any other form of magic.  Except for that.  Grindelwald and his followers killed my kind.  I am the last as far as I know. >

Niamh frowned and said, Oh, Jardin…

< Don’t pity me, m’lady. >

Niamh looked a bit taken aback but Harry shook his head at her.

So, how come I can hear Niamh when she’s talking to you?

< Ah.  Each of my kind forms a special bond with a certain wizard.  We stay with them for all our lives after we’ve found them.  Until they die.  Then we travel on, looking for the next person.  I had been looking for you, Harry, since I hatched four hundred years ago. >

Harry blinked.  What?  That’s…that’s impossible.

Jardin shook his head.

< Not necessarily.  Dumbledore’s phoenix Fawkes is one of my kind; much, much older than myself.  According to him, he was once Godric Gryffindor’s and had been waiting ever since Gryffindor died for Dumbledore. >

So, you guys already know who to go to next?

< Of course. >

And about the hearing thing?

< Ah.  We are bound, you and I.  You can hear the thoughts of anyone speaking to me.  If you were a telepath, I could do the same. >

But I’m not.

< Certainly not.  My kind do not bond to telepath’s for that specific reason.  We have a sort of – inner alarm – to avoid that from happening. >

What if your next bond IS a telepath?

Jardin shifted from talon to talon before replying.

< We slowly go mad from the influx of thoughts. >

Niamh gasped.

Oh my God…  That’s…that’s horrible!

Ni, calm down.

Oh!  Oh!  I can hear you, Harry!

< That is because you are communicating through me.  You’ve been hearing him the entire time. >

Oh my…

Maybe we should call it a night?

< A good idea. >

Oh, Jar, hold on a minute.  I want you to take a letter to Ron and another to Hermione.

Jardin nodded and Harry pulled the two letters from his pocket, tying one to each of the raven’s legs.  The raven looked at both of them then gave a short nod.

< Good night. >

Night, Jar.

Good night, Jardin.

A moment later he was gone and Niamh and Harry were left to watch each other.

“So, we can talk to each other while he’s around.”

“Yeh.  I ‘spose so.”

“Y’know, your voice is different when you…ah, what would you call it?”

“Thinking it?”

“Maybe.  Anyway, it sounds…y’know…normal.”

“Normal?  Ye mean li’ everyone else’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Tha’s na normal fer me, Ni.  Good night.”

“Harry…”

“Good nigh’, Ni.”

As Harry stalked off into the boy’s dorm, Niamh whispered, “Good night, Harry.”