The sight of all those arrows pointed at him made Harry’s mouth go dry with fear. But he knew better than to show fear in front of a predator. Showing any kind of weakness might lead the wolfen to attack. So he drew himself up proudly and said calmly, “All right, but can you please lower your bows? We’re not your enemies, and I talk better without an arrow aimed at my throat.”

A part of him was amazed at how bold he was being, but the boldness paid off, because Darkmoon curled his lip and turned to his companions and called, “Silva, IndigoEyes, Winterknight, stand down. Eris, watch and if they reach for a wand . . . bite off their hands.”

A tall girl with silvery-blond hair and indigo eyes slowly lowered her bow. “As you will, sir!”

Another girl with the same color hair, slightly paler, and amber eyes also obeyed, though she cast the two a suspicious look.

The last to follow Darkmoon’s orders was a dark auburn-haired boy, he had forest green eyes and looked quite displeased. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir. Wizards are cagey, we should just gut ‘em.” He kept his bow trained upon the trespassers.

Darkmoon spun and glared into Winterknight’s eyes. “Vlad, do as I say,” he repeated firmly. “We can always kill them later, if need be. Now lower your bow.”

The other bared his teeth for a moment, then dropped his gaze and finally lowered his weapon. “Don’t try anything funny,” he growled in slightly accented English.

“We mean you no harm,” Severus said, speaking in a soothing even tone, his hands held at his sides. “We are here to find an ancient magical object and we do not intend to stay any longer than necessary.”

Darkmoon looked skeptical. “Oh really? And what kind of object would that be? Something that will help you rule the world? Dominate your fellow man? You wizards are all the same. You think we’re dumb, but I’ve got your number. Who sent you here?”

“A prophecy,” Harry replied. “The prophecy of Two Hawks Hunting. We’re not like those dark wizards who came here before. We’re their enemies. The wizard who came here before, did he tell you his name?”

Darkmoon nodded tightly and spat upon the ground. “Their leader called himself Voldemort. And whatever he did caused the forest to wither and die when he was finished. Part of it, anyhow. The trees withered and faded away, all except the ring of guardian ash and oaks. And even those he polluted with his foul sorcery! The guardian trees used to speak and tell us stories, they have been here for centuries and more, they know much about the forest and its creatures, but after he was done, their voices were stolen and mute and they no longer recognized us when we came to them. They attacked us instead. And before they were never like that. Never!”

The boy’s eyes flashed.

“Voldemort pollutes all he touches,” Severus said gravely. “We know that all too well. We are here to try and put a stop to his madness. My name is Severus Snape, I am a Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And this is my apprentice and ward, Harry Potter.”

Darkmoon looked startled. “You teach at Hogwarts?”

“I do. I teach potions.”

The wolfen seemed impressed at that. “Huh. Never met a wizard teacher before. You any good?”

“I would say I am a competent instructor,” Severus began modestly.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s bloody brilliant. One of the best potions instructors ever to teach at the school,” Harry declared proudly. “Though he can be damn strict in his classroom, and he doesn’t take any attitude either.”

“Ah. Like an alpha then.” Darkmoon cocked his head. “Harry Potter . . .I know that name from somewhere . . .” he thought hard, then he snapped his fingers. “Ah ha! You’re the one they call the Boy Who Lived, right?”

Harry nodded. “That’s me.”

“Because you survived the Death spell, right?” asked Silva, examining Harry curiously.

“Yeah, the Killing Curse. But don’t ask me how.”

“I don’t care what you survived, wizard!” sneered Vlad. “You’re not to be trusted. It’s because of you and yours—wizard—that we’re here. Well, you and our bastard werewolf sires.” He scowled angrily at Harry.

“Quiet, Winterknight!” rebuked his leader sternly, and the other subsided. “He’s partially correct, you know. Wizards haven’t treated us well, actually no one has, except maybe our mothers. Some of them,” Darkmoon amended softly. “Why should we trust you?”

“Because we’re here to rid the world of Voldemort and his kind,” replied Severus.

“We’re here to find a magical object and destroy it and by destroying it, prevent him from being resurrected,” Harry informed them, sensing that if he were not scrupulously honest, he would be signing his own death warrant.

“Resurrected? Then he’s dead?” Darkmoon demanded.

“Yeah. Last I saw, old Moldywarts was writhing on the ground, nearly cut clean in half by my talons. He was an Animagus, able to become a gila monster at will. But Sev and I killed him before he could change back. Only he won’t stay dead. His followers might try and bring him back, they can do that because Voldy preserved parts of his soul in objects and hid them so he could become immortal. Our quest is to find them and destroy them.”

“Why should we believe you?” asked Vlad suspiciously. “You could be lying.”

“They’re not,” interjected Darkmoon. “Use your nose, Vlad. We can smell deceit and they don’t bear the taint.” He sniffed pointedly. “Everything they said is true.”

Winterknight sniffed, then growled and scuffed his feet. “I still don’t trust them. It could be a trap.”

Suddenly, a small skinny russet wolf raced up to Darkmoon and crouched by his feet, whining.

Darkmoon looked down. “Urchin? What’s wrong?”

The russet wolf barked, in a strange sort of way, and whined again.

“Werewolves? Where?”

Urchin rose and growled, looking off to the east.

“Here in the forest? They’ve broken the treaty then.” Darkmoon spat, his eyes glowing with anger.

“Can we fight them, then?” asked Vlad, his eyes lighting up.

“They’re after us,” Severus explained. “They were waiting for us, but we escaped their ambush. Harry’s familiar warned us in time.”

“You brought them here, wizard?” growled IndigoEyes.

“Not intentionally,” Harry defended. “I don’t think they know where we are.”

Silva snorted. “They are werewolves, they can track you by scent. They may be mad and vicious bloodthirsty things, but they’re not dumb. Wish they were.”

Darkmoon continued questioning the wolf called Urchin. “How many? How far away are they?”

Urchin growled again, replying in wolf speak.

“Only four? About two hundred yards to the east? Huh. They have a high opinion of themselves.”

“Sir, permission to attack them?” cried Vlad.

“Granted. Follow Urchin. IndigoEyes, Stormstrike, Eris, go with him. Teach them what it means to cross a wolfen.” Darkmoon ordered. “I’ll escort our visitors to Sylvanor and then join you afterwards.”

“Sylvanor?” cried Winterknight in dismay. “You would bring wizards to our homes? But sir, that’s—”

“—my prerogative as your alpha,” interrupted Darkmoon. “It’s not up for debate. Go!”

Vlad Winterknight threw back his head and howled, the sound was both eerily musical and beautiful and also frightening. Then he blurred and in his place stood a large brown wolf with one white foot and a light beige ruff. Urchin rose and loped in front of him, head lowered, and whimpered.

IndigoEyes also assumed her wolf shape, she was a smallish silver wolf with black tipped ears and tail and was followed by another larger and darker silver-gray male wolf, who had been crouched beside her.

The big male gave a short warning growl as he looked at the two wizards, and Eris also became a deep red female with black guard hairs.

They all howled gleefully before following Urchin into the trees and within moments they were gone.

Darkmoon turned to Harry and Severus. “You are the first guests we have ever had at Sylvanor, but even so, you can’t be permitted to see the way to our village. Only wolfen may know how to reach Sylvanor.” He jerked his chin.

The air misted and the big frost-colored wolf beside Silva became a tall gangly youth with white-blond hair pulled back in a tail and green eyes. He cupped his hands to his mouth and hissed.

Or at least that was what it sounded like. Suddenly, something glittering shot through the air and buried itself in Severus’s neck.

The Potions Master lifted a hand to brush at his neck, then crumpled slowly to the earth.

Harry cried, “Severus! What did you do to him, you—?”

He never finished his sentence. He felt a sting in his hand, looked down and saw a tiny silver dart embedded in it. He looked up at Darkmoon, his eyes puzzled and accusing. Why?

“Insurance,” said the wolfen leader. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to die. It’s sleep sap. You’ll take a nice nap and wake up in Sylvanor.”

He jumped across the stream and the last sight Harry had before he passed out was Darkmoon’s soft leather boots.

The wolfen caught the young wizard before his head hit the ground and slung him easily over his shoulder. “Thanks, Fenris. Get the Potions Master. C’mon, let’s move! The sooner we get home, the sooner we can go and help Vlad with the dumbass werewolves.”

The big blond wolfen nodded and strode over to the limp Severus and picked him up as easily as he would have a child, putting him over his shoulder. He tucked the blowpipe into his belt and began to run through the trees in the opposite direction Vlad had taken.

Darkmoon and Silva followed.

* * * * * *

Two hours later:

Severus squinted, wincing at the bright light that hit his eyes. But he managed to open them a moment later by easing his eyelids up slowly, letting his eyes adjust gradually to the light. He blinked hard, then peered up at a slanted wooden ceiling where a small hanging lantern hung. He turned his head slightly, and saw to his relief that Harry was lying next to him on a wicker-framed pallet. He looked down and saw that he was also lying on something similar. There was a soft gray blanket tucked around him.

He started to sit up, but a warm, slender-finger hand reached out and pushed him back down on the pallet, firmly yet gently. He looked up and saw a young woman, looking a little older than Harry, with brilliant platinum hair and slanted amber eyes, silver flowers dangling in her ears, holding him down effortlessly.

“Please, do not try and sit up yet,” the young woman said, her voice pleasantly soft and soothing. “Sometimes the sleep sap on the darts can make you a little woozy and disorientated. So just lie still for a bit. It’ll pass in about five minutes. My name is Meadowsweet, I am Sylvanor’s resident Healer and historian, so to speak.”

“Pleased to meet you, Meadowsweet. I am Severus Snape.”

“I know. Darkmoon told me your name when he brought you to me.” She smiled at him. “Welcome to Sylvanor. You are the first outsiders we have ever had here.”

Severus nodded. “So I gathered from the way your . . .pack members reacted to me and to Harry, my foster son. You have an odd way of treating guests, knocking them out.” He looked anxiously over at Harry, who was still asleep.

“He will be waking soon. I’m sorry for that, but we have a lot of enemies, and Darkmoon was just being cautious and protecting us. He’s a good leader. He told me to trust you, said you were enemies with the dark wizards.” Meadowsweet reassured him, removing her hand from his shoulder and straightening. She was wearing a soft cream ruffled blouse and a colorful skirt of many layers—blue, silver, purple, pink and green. Plain black shoes encased her feet and about her waist was a long red sash with many pouches.

She looked like a gypsy child from her attire, Severus thought, though no gypsy ever had hair the color of spun moonlight. “That is so. We are here to destroy him, or at least a part of him. You call this place Sylvanor? From the Latin “sylvanus” meaning “wood or forest”?”

Meadowsweet nodded. “Yes. Darkmoon figured it was a good name for our home, seeing as we lived in a forest and our village is in the treetops.”

Severus gaped at her. Surely I did not hear that correctly. She said this house is in a tree! He started to sit up only to have the girl motion him back down. “I am not dizzy and I wish to sit up and see for myself what you meant by being in a treetop.”

“Sit up too fast and you will be,” Meadowsweet said serenely. “Trust me. I only spoke the truth, Severus. Darkmoon decided we were safest in the trees, so that’s where we built our homes. Don’t worry, they’re perfectly safe and sturdy, they are part of the tree trunk and connected by a series of walkways supported by long branches and ropes.”

“Part of the tree?”

“Yes. Arborsong, our plantshaper, made them so. He coaxed and sang them from the great oaks and now we can all live safe and warm and dry and not worry about flashfloods or rampaging alicorns or werewolves or vampires. You have the strangest look on your face, Severus. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“No. I was simply startled to discover that we are in a tree. I am used to being on the ground.” The Potions Master stated, heights did not frighten him, but being at the mercy of strangers did make him feel very uncomfortable, no matter that the girl looked as innocent as a day old lamb.

Meadowsweet laughed. “So were we, until Darkmoon showed us how much safer it was to live above the forest floor. He’s very clever, ‘Moon is. He learned a lot of his survival skills from his mum. But he’ll tell you that later, when he returns from chasing away those bloody werewolves.” The girl’s face hardened suddenly and her eyes glowed with a strange feral light.

“You don’t like werewolves much, I take it?”

Meadowsweet shook her head sharply. “No. We hate them. They might have sired us, but because of them we have no lives and no status, no anything. Your kind call us “half-human” and say we’re not fit to associate with regular people and all the werewolves want is for us to submit to them and be their slaves. That’s why wolfen were created, according to Greyback and his sort—to be their servants. Ha! I serve no one save myself!” She tossed her wild hair back. “He comes with his pack every few months or so and each time he tries to capture one of us or convince us to join him or even hunt us down to kill us when we refuse. I hate him! All of us do.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Ten now. Once there were twelve of us,” Meadowsweet answered. “But Araya and Flicker were killed . . .” She lifted a hand to wipe her eyes which were glistening with tears.

“Recently?”

“Six months ago, one of Dracula’s crazy vamps came here and Flicker was hunting solo, didn’t see the damn bloodsucker till it was too late. Even we can’t survive a vampire draining us down to nothing. Araya passed a year ago, she was killed by a dark wizard, one of those who worked for that butt-ugly necromancer called the Dark Lord.”

“What happened to the wizard?”

“He’s dead. Nobody hurts a wolfen and gets away with it,” said the little Healer, a fierce gleam in her eyes.

Just then Harry began to stir and Meadowsweet moved over to caution him not to sit up as well. Harry groaned and opened his eyes.

“Ooh Merlin! I must be dreaming. ‘Cause there’s a really hot girl looking at me,” he muttered aloud, not realizing he had done so until Meadowsweet burst out laughing.

“You think I’m hot? Really? Wow!” she giggled.

Harry went red as he realized she was not a dream image, but a real girl. “Uh . . .” he looked away, only to see Severus on the next pallet, watching him with equal parts of amusement and concern and he covered his face with his hands and groaned. “Aww . . .somebody hex me, please. I’m such an idiot.”

“Why?” Meadowsweet asked mischievously. “I think you’re kind of cute.”

Harry peeked out from behind his hands. “You do? Even when I say totally dumb things?”

The girl grinned. “Not dumb, just the truth. I’m Meadowsweet.” She held out a hand.

Harry took it, still fiery red and wishing he could sink through the floor. Why was it that around any girl except Hermione he became an utter buffoon? “I’m Harry. Nice to meet you, Meadowsweet. That’s an interesting name. Was your mum a Potions Mistress or something?”

“Not exactly. She was a Healer. And my name wasn’t always Meadowsweet, anymore than Darkmoon’s was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we changed our names after we were brought here and we understood it was like being an outcast to get dumped here, in the Forest of the Night. Darkmoon said we needed new names, strong names, to show we weren’t afraid and all. But I chose Meadowsweet because I’m a Healer.”

“I like it. But . . .what’s your other name?” Harry asked curiously.

“Sasha Atwater was what my mum named me,” replied the wolfen. “But nobody here calls me that except Darkmoon sometimes. He knew me before we came here, he’s my cousin.”

She looked over at Severus, who was propping himself up on an elbow and said, using a tone that reminded both of them of Madam Pomfrey, “If you don’t feel dizzy or sick to your stomach, Potions Master, you can sit up now and even walk around a little. You might feel a little weak though, sometimes the sleep sap affects people that way.”

Severus carefully sat up, relieved to discover he did not feel sick or dizzy at all. He climbed gingerly to his feet and stood, looking about the Healer’s quarters interestedly.

The walls to the north and south were curved in a kind of ellipse, and had two round windows in them. The other two walls in the west and east were sort of slanted, and the roof was peaked, but not sharply. There was another partition and a door leading further to the west. This room was formed of a pretty golden grained oak, like honey poured from a pitcher, and when Severus walked over and felt the wall, it radiated a gentle warmth and was smooth as silk.

Even the floor was smooth and featured a pretty woven ragrug upon it. A table and chairs was set into one corner facing the doorway. Next to that was a long low shelf with some plates, bowls, cups, and silverware. Opposite that, against the far wall was a large shelf with all kinds of jars and beakers, they were filled with potion ingredients. Bunches of dried herbs hung from hooks upon the ceiling and over a large cauldron. Three more cauldrons of different sizes were stacked next to the potions cupboard. A small table and a stool were in front of the cabinet, upon it were arranged some sharp knives and a mortar and pestle. The items had clearly seen much use, Severus observed, but they were well-cared for and cherished. Next to the potions cupboard was a bookshelf with potions texts and Healing texts, a battered copy of Hogwarts:A History, and some Muggle books like the US Marine Survival Guide, A Handbook of Wilderness Training and Tips, Jack London’s White Fang and The Call of the Wild and a book called The Art of Archery and Bow Making.

“The US Marine Survival Guide? Where on earth did you get that?” murmured the Potions Master in astonishment.

“Oh, that’s not mine, it’s Darkmoon’s. It was his mother’s, she was a US Marine pilot. He asked me to keep a few books of hers on my bookshelf, it’s all he has left of her.” Meadowsweet said sadly. She pointed to the door to the west. “If you need to use the bathroom, it’s through there, the first door on the right. The second door is my sleeping quarters. This room is where I brew my potions and treat patients.”

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her. “I wouldn’t think you get much practice, considering you wolfen probably heal quickly.”

“Yes, that’s so, but we also get hurt fighting off vampires and werewolves and dark wizards who attempt to enter the forest. That’s why I keep a fully stocked healing lab up here. My mum always said to be prepared and I try to be.”

“Are all of you . . .like orphans?” Harry queried softly, also sitting up on his pallet.

“Yes.” Meadowsweet answered, but before she could go on, there came a sharp knock on the door.

A second later the door was thrust open and Darkmoon entered. His leather leggings looked rather dirty, as if he had been scuffling in the dirt, but otherwise he was unhurt. “Hey, Meadowsweet. We thrashed those mangy mutts good this time. Made ‘em run away with their tails between their legs, those that could still walk. Are they awake yet? I didn’t think sleep sap affected wizards that badly.”

“They just woke a few minutes ago, Darkmoon. I was telling them a little about our home here and how we came to be here.” The Healer wolfen said, somewhat shyly.

Darkmoon entered and came to stand next to his cousin, eyeing his two guests. “You want to know how we came here?” he demanded shortly. “We were throwaways, most of us. Unwanted and abandoned children, we were a Ministry cover-up. Most of us are the product of assault and such, our werewolf sires attacked and kidnapped our human mothers, witch or Muggle, it made no difference to them. Those who survived gave birth to us—wolfen we call ourselves, non-humans the Ministry calls us, or abomination, depending on who ‘s talking about us,” the young Alpha said angrily. “The one exception to that rule was me. My mom, Bethany, knew what my father was, he served under her in the US Marine Corps, he wasn’t part of Greyback’s pack at all. He would have married her, even though he was a werewolf, but he was killed in a plane crash before he could. He died before I was born. His name was Erik Harlan. Mom named me after him though, and she raised me on her own.”

“Is she . . .?” Harry trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how the volatile wolfen would welcome any questions about his past.

“She was killed in action during the Gulf War,” Darkmoon said quietly. “She was flying a chopper, trying to get to some of her men that had been wounded and was shot down. They say it was quick. I was thirteen and just starting to show my wolfen traits and I was sent to live with cousins of mine on my mom’s side of the family in England. Lacey Atwater and her daughter, Sasha—that’s Meadowsweet here. Mom used to tell me Lacey could do magic, I always thought she was kidding, until I went to live there and found out she was a witch.”

“You should have seen his face the first time my mum cast a spell!” Meadowsweet laughed. “He nearly fell over.”

“So sue me.” Darkmoon snorted. “I lived with Lacey and Sasha for a year, then when I was fourteen, Lacey got sick with something, it was a magical flu and she died. That left us minors and the Ministry officials came in and declared us non-human because of our were blood and abominations and they brought us here to the forest and left us. Dumped us like last week’s trash and never looked back.” There was a bitter note in the Alpha’s voice now and his eyes were hard and unforgiving. “They barely gave us time to pack a few things, the miserable bastards.”

“That would be consistent with Ministry policy,” Severus said, sneering. “If they can’t or don’t want to deal with an issue, they take steps to either shove it under the rug or ignore it and act like it doesn’t exist.”

“No kidding. Anyway, when we first got here, Meadowsweet and I pretty much survived by hunting in wolf form, until we found others like us—other wolfen who had been abandoned and put here by Ministry decree. Some of us, like Urchin, never even knew his mom, she died giving birth to him and he lived in an orphanage till the bloody wizards came and forced him to come here. Vlad’s mom threw him out when she realized he could shift and had inherited were traits, handed him over to the local wizard government and they brought him here. He’s Romanian. Most of us don’t have mothers anymore, or if we do, they don’t want to know us.”

The wolfen sighed and moved to seat himself at the table, motioning for the two wizards to sit opposite him.

“That’s rough,” Harry said sympathetically. He knew what it was to be unwanted. “But how did the Ministry know what you were?”

“Because a wolfen always has either dark auburn or silver-blond hair and amber or green or indigo eyes. Plus we’re stronger than normal and can change into full wolves. The attacks on our mothers were reported and documented, even the Muggle ones, so the Ministry knew when we were born, and that was how they kept tabs on us. As soon as we started to show signs of the wolfen nature, they came for us.”

“If my mum had been alive, she would have hidden us away and the Ministry would have never found us,” Meadowsweet said. “But she passed the Veil and we were left alone, two scared kids against adult wizards. They Stunned and tied us up and left us here—“like the rest of our kind, where we could live like the beasts we were.” At first we hated it, but once we met the other wolfen, we became a pack and a family. We built Sylvanor and learned to survive in the forest and defend our territory and now this is our home.”

“You built all this yourself?” Harry was impressed.

Darkmoon nodded proudly. “Arborsong made the houses for us with his plantshaping gift, pretty neat, huh?”

“Very. Can you do magic?” Harry asked.

“Not like you do, with a wand,” Meadowsweet answered. “All we need to do is focus our minds. And most of us have some kind of magic talent, like my healing skills, or Arborsong’s plantshaping.”

“Innate magic,” Severus murmured. “A skill that is dying out among wizards nowadays. The Animagus talent is innate magic.”

“My mom taught me a lot about surviving in the woods and stuff,” explained Darkmoon. “She was a Marine and they can survive almost anything anywhere. She taught me everything she knew and the rest I learned by studying books and spending summers at this Lakota camp where they taught you how to live like Sioux used to a hundred years ago, hunting and fishing and living off the land and all that.”

“Is that where you learned to make a bow and arrows?” Severus queried.

“Yeah. And how to make clothes out of leather and shoes and a whole bunch of other stuff. I used to complain sometimes when I was little about going there, but now I’m glad I did, ‘cause everything I learned there helped us survive here.”

“No knowledge is ever wasted,” Severus quoted.

Darkmoon agreed. Then he rose to his feet. “Now that you know a little about me, Meadowsweet, and Sylvanor, I want you to follow me to round house and tell the rest of my pack your story. Knight ought to have returned from trailing the ones who ran and made sure they left the Forest.”

“I hope you nailed their tails to a wall,” Meadowsweet snapped. “They broke the treaty by setting foot in the Forest.”

“They won’t do it again,” declared the leader of the wolfen angrily. “Nobody double crosses us twice. Even Dracula’s vamps aren’t that dumb.”

“You’re not afraid of the werewolves then?” Severus asked. “Some of them are coldblooded murderers.”

“I know. That’s why we want to keep them out of the Forest of the Night. The Forest has enough dark creatures in it without adding our stinking sires to the mix. There are things in this wood better left alone. As I’m sure you know.” He beckoned the two wizards out the door. “You coming, Sash?”

“I’ll be along in a minute, Erik. Go ahead without me,” called the Healer.

Harry stepped out the door and onto a long platform that appeared to rise and twist around the trunk of a gigantic oak tree. The platform extended across to yet another large tree, and was bound on both sides by a series of strong woven ropes that crisscrossed to form a kind of wall high enough to prevent someone from falling off the pathway. Harry could see more pathways twining through several other huge trees and other houses could be seen in the distance, all of them lovingly embraced by the oak trees they had sprung from. Each house had an overhanging canopy of lush green foliage, and each one was shaped differently. Some were round and others square or rectangular. All were unique, a blending of nature and art, functional and beautiful, and neither wizard had ever seen anything like them.

Just then, a long low howl broke the stillness and Darkmoon howled back. “That’s Winterknight, telling me they’ve returned.” He waved them down the pathway impatiently.

Experimentally, Harry stamped a foot upon the walkway, testing it. It remained as steady as the earth beneath his feet.

He took a few steps and found that his sneakers made a faint thumping sound when he walked.

Darkmoon glanced over his shoulder and said, “Come on, slowpokes. It’s perfectly safe, a herd of elephants could run on this.” He jumped up and down to demonstrate how sturdy the walkway was. “Let’s go, you can gawk at the scenery later.”

He whirled and strode lightly down the walkway, making almost no sound.

After a moment, Severus and Harry followed, relieved to note that even when a breeze came up, the walkway remained firm and did not sway.

“This is a remarkable piece of architecture.” Severus remarked as they walked. “I have never seen its like. But didn’t it occur to you that you could have lived in the forest as wolves?”

“Of course, and we did, for awhile,” Darkmoon called back. “But we’re not wolves, professor. Or at least, not all wolf. We’re people too, and we deserve to live like normal people. As much as we can, anyhow.”

“Very true,” agreed the professor, thinking what an injustice the Ministry had perpetrated upon these innocent children, all of whom seemed to be between the ages of sixteen and twenty. Once again, Fudge’s paranoia has cost lives. These children might have grown up loved and happy were they permitted to be placed with loving adoptive families instead of rounded up like a pack of vicious strays and tossed into the forest. They were probably hoping the wolfen would die here or revert to their animal selves, and that way they could absolve themselves of any guilt they felt at leaving children to the mercy of monsters and the elements.

Only the wolfen hadn’t died, they had survived, and more they had forged a community and a life of their own. Severus wagered that those pompous Ministry official, one of which had probably been good old Umbridge, had never considered that might happen. The Potions Master had to admire the wolfen’s resourcefulness and determination and cleverness. It would seem that they thrived on adversity, or at least made the best of it.

He turned to Harry and said, “How are you feeling? Whatever they shot us with seems to have had no ill effects upon me.”

“I feel all right. A little hungry, but otherwise okay. I wonder where Hedwig is? When we stopped at the stream, she flew off somewhere. I hope she’s all right.”

“Hedwig is a tough old owl. She knows what she’s about.” Severus reassured Harry. “She will find you, the bond between you is strong.”

Harry knew better than to doubt Severus’s words, for Hedwig always seemed to know just where he was. “Is that because she’s my familiar or a post owl?” he wondered aloud.

“Probably a bit of both.” Severus replied.

“What do you think of these wolfen, Sev? Do you think they’ll help us find it?”

“They may, once we convince them we aren’t going to use the object for any evil purpose. They certainly bear no love for Voldemort, werewolves, or the Ministry. Not that I blame them.”

They had nearly caught up with Darkmoon, approaching a large round house cradled inbetween a gigantic fork of a centuries old black oak tree. Like the other dwellings in Sylvanor, the round house was formed partially out of the tree itself, mystically shaped so the tree branches wrapped lovingly about the wall and roof, which was formed of an arching canopy of leafy green branches that overlapped, making a sort of cap of living greenery.

Harry just stared at it in awe, there was a serenity and harmony to this place that made him feel safe and protected and soothed his weary and anxious spirit. He glanced at Severus and saw that he too was affected by the aura that radiated outward from the round house. Several windows were set in the walls, so that the sunlight streamed through and created patterns upon the floor, Harry noticed as soon as they walked into the door, which was shaped like an arch with vines curling about it.

The interior was lit by a few hanging lamps, but mostly the sun itself provided the light. Benches grown out of the floor in a semi-circle surrounded a raised platform and a softly glowing charcoal brazier, which stood upon a tripod.

The rest of the wolfen pack were lounging upon the benches, but they straightened when Darkmoon entered with Severus and Harry behind him. Cocky Vlad cast the newcomers a scornful look, then went back to twirling a knife upon the tip of his finger.

Several wolfen, including a lanky boy with flaming hair cut short and spiked, looked at the two wizards with interest tinged with distrust. But no one said anything.

Darkmoon leaped up on to the dais and beckoned to Harry and Severus to come up also. Then the alpha of Sylvanor turned to his packmates and said, “Welcome, my brothers and sisters. I’ve called this meet for a few reasons, one of the main ones being the two guests who stand beside me.” He paused to clear his throat.

“Guests? Ha! Trouble is more like it!” cried Vlad angrily. “They brought the werewolves into the Forest.”

“It wasn’t our fault they followed us in,” Harry objected.

Severus shushed him, and he subsided irritably. That Winterknight was starting to really get on his nerves.

“Peace, Vlad. You know as well as I do that Greyback’s wolves need no excuse to invade our home. Severus and Harry just happened to be convenient targets. Besides, weren’t you complaining to me just last week that you were growing fat and lazy with no werewolves to chase away?”

Some of the other wolfen chuckled, and Vlad scowled and did not answer. He clearly did not approve of Darkmoon’s decision.

“Ha! We made them run all right,” said a slender platinum blond boy, he had his hair shoulder length with green and blue beads woven into it and was wearing fringed buckskins with a lightning bolt painted on the shirt. “All the way back to their dark one with their tails between their legs!”

“That’s hardly the point, Storm,” growled Vlad, amid a chorus of victory howls from the others. “No werewolves would have come here if it hadn’t been for them!” He pointed an accusatory finger at the two wizards.

“Aw, hush your yapping, Vlad!” ordered the large wolfen who had knocked out Harry and Severus with the blowpipe, Fenris was his name. “You whine more than a wormy pup! Least you didn’t get stuck back here on guard duty.”

Darkmoon growled sharply, low and menacing, and held up a hand. Immediately all the wolfen stilled and looked at their Alpha. “Better. As I was saying, I brought these two here for a reason. I know that some of you have issues with wizards, but I could tell they weren’t lying when they told me they were here to destroy that bastard Voldemort, and you all know that one is a menace that needs to be brought down.”

“Damn straight!” cried Eris.

“His slimy wizard goons killed Araya!” yelled Fenris, and his eyes gleamed with fury.

“We should have ripped out his throat when we had the chance, when they were all gathered there in the clearing,” Winterknight howled.

“Oh, sure we should have,” sneered IndigoEyes. “And just how were we supposed to do that, Mr. Brilliant Warrior? When they vanished into thin air before we could hold onto them?”

“Not all of them, Indigo,” Silva reminded her. “We caught the one who had sacrificed Araya and sent him to his ancestors.”

“Enough!” Darkmoon held up his hands and they quieted. “Voldemort or whatever he calls himself needs to die, we all agree on that. But wolfen are not wizards and we’re not equipped to kill a master wizard of his power. That’s why—”

“Says who? One good knife across his throat or an arrow in his eye will do for him same as any other wizard,” boasted Vlad.

He gasped as Eris elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Shut up, idiot! Let the alpha speak!”

“Thanks, Eris,” Darkmoon nodded at her gratefully and she beamed. He frowned down at Vlad, who scuffed a foot and looked away, shamed. “Anyway, like I was saying, we all know what Voldemort and his pack of dark wizards did to our forest last time they were here, a year ago. Not only did they kill Araya for their blood spell ritual, they also perverted the guardian oak and ash in Shadow Vale, making them twisted and their hearts full of hate so that they attacked us, we who had once been brothers and friends to them. Not even Arborsong could make them hear us after that.”

“The dark ones broke something within the trees’ hearts,” Arborsong said sadly. “They could no longer hear the forestsong, or understand me when I spoke, their voices were bound and their spirits fled or filled with darkness. Now they live in torment, hating without reason and guarding something that reeks of evil.” The slender plantshaper shuddered, looking ill.

“That something is what we have come here seeking,” Severus said.

“So you say!” sneered Vlad. “But how can we trust you? You could take whatever it is and use it to wipe us out. Isn’t that what you wizards want—to get rid of all the half-human abominations like us? Isn’t that why your Ministry put us here—so we could be locked away and you could be safe?”

Vlad rose to his feet and glared at Severus, his hands clenched into fists, a belligerent scowl upon his face.

Severus took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. “My Ministry is run by fools and cowards who bury their heads in the sand whenever something comes along that they don’t like or are afraid to deal with. They denounced me and my apprentice here as mad when we told them Voldemort had returned. It was only after we had fought him in public in the Ministry itself that the idiots acknowledged Voldemort’s return and defeat. I understand your disgust and distrust of the Ministry of Magic, you have every right to loathe them for what they have done to you. But consider, I am not representing the Ministry. I am here on my own, fulfilling a prophecy that will end in the total destruction of Voldemort for all of time if I am successful. That is why Harry and I are here, to find the lost piece of Voldemort’s putrid soul and destroy it.”

“How can you destroy a soul?” queried Silva, puzzled.

“It is difficult, but if we can destroy the object the soul resides in then the soul will be destroyed,” Severus told her. “We have already destroyed several pieces, and this shall be the fifth.”

“Fifth?” repeated Darkmoon in dismay. “Just how many pieces are there?”

“Seven.” Harry answered.

“Why in hell would you want to break apart your soul?” asked Eris.

“To make yourself immortal,” Harry told her. “Voldy’s a twisted bugger. Not that it works all that well, but . . .he can be killed and return from the dead unless we find all those pieces. We know one is here, somewhere in the forest. We just don’t know where.”

Severus tapped his finger against his jaw thoughtfully. “If I had to hazard a guess, I would say the object may be in that place you mentioned . . .the one where the Death Eaters gathered last year and sacrificed your packmate. Voldemort would have spared nothing to ensure that his soul was protected. He even made a treaty with Dracula himself, making certain the vampires stayed away from the forest and did not hunt his Death Eaters.” Severus had read that bit of information in the journal as he was translating it.

IndigoEyes wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yuck! Sounds like pond scum, making a deal with bloody Dracula. Then again, he sounds like the type the Count would be friends with. Dirt calls to dirt.”

“What’s a Death Eater?” Urchin asked timidly from the back row of benches.

“A Death Eater is a wizard who has pledged himself to Voldemort and believes in his unholy cause—that he should rule all of Britain and Europe,” answered the Potions Master. “I infiltrated them for many years, but now I am done spying and fight against them openly. We wish to ask if you would help us find the object he has hidden?”

“Why should we risk our necks for you?” asked Stormstrike.

“You do not have to,” Severus said evenly. “All we want is a guide to that place you spoke of where the trees were corrupted. We will find the object and destroy it. And then we will leave.”

“I think you should leave now, wizard,” bristled Vlad. “We don’t need your kind stirring up things best left undisturbed.”

“We can’t do that,” Harry burst out, unable to keep still any longer. “Don’t you understand? Voldemort is a threat to everyone, not just wizards. If he’s not stopped, he’ll destroy everyone. Including you. So you’ll be saving your own arse by helping us find what he’s hidden away.”

Severus groaned inwardly at Harry’s frank speech. Clearly diplomacy was not the boy’s strong suit. Damn it, boy, you might have aggravated the situation by saying what you did. Why didn’t you just keep quiet and let me handle it?

But to Severus’s surprise, a few of the other wolfen were slowly nodding and murmurs of agreement buzzed about the room.

“He’s right.”

“Yes, why shouldn’t we help them search out the object?”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Fenris quoted softly.

“Well said, Fen.” Darkmoon approved. “I say that we offer Harry Potter and Severus Snape free passage to the Shadow Vale, and let them see if what they seek is hidden there. If they can destroy Voldemort then that’s one less enemy wolfen need to worry about. What say you?”

There was a chorus of howls of approval, all save for the sour and prickly Vlad Winterknight.

“I say you’re all fools!” he spat. “Let the wizards fend for themselves, like we had to. If I were Alpha—”

“Not again, Knight!” groaned Meadowsweet from the doorway. “If you were Alpha we’d all be living like kings in a palace, right?” She shook her head. “But you’re not Alpha, Vlad, Darkmoon is and I for one thank Herne the Hunter for that. You’d have us trying to fight the vampires for territory.”

“So? At least we could go somewhere besides this forest,” growled the other angrily.

“Like where?” demanded IndigoEyes. “Back to our loving mothers, who are either dead or who think we’re scum? To live with the bloodsuckers? We’re better off here, where no one bothers us. And if the wizards can make the Forest of the Night a better place for us to live, I say let them do it.”

“Indigo’s right,” Eris said. “A wizard created this mess, so let a wizard fix it.”

“Fine, but who’s going to show them the way to the Vale?” asked Urchin.

No one said anything for several moments, until Darkmoon spoke. “I will. The rest of you can stay here and guard the border and Sylvanor.” He looked at Severus and said, “On one condition. If I help you do this, I want your help in return. Agreed?”

“If it is within my power to do so, I shall help you,” Severus said. “Provided that help will not cause harm to innocents or my apprentice.”

“It won’t.” Darkmoon assured him. “The help I need is for my packmates and myself. But we can discuss that later. Right now I’m hungry and we need to hunt. Who wishes to stalk a deer with me?” He blurred into his wolf form and howled invitingly.

In a flash half the wolfen had also changed and frisked up to their alpha, biting him gently under the chin as a sign of respect, wagging their tails eagerly. Darkmoon accepted their homage proudly, before running to the door and opening it with a quick slap of one paw against the handle. Within moments, he and half the pack had raced off, down a spiraling set of stairs to the ground and away into the forest.

Harry looked up to find Meadowsweet at his elbow. The wolfen Healer looked pensive. “Something wrong?”

“I . . .yes . . .do either of you know what a snowy owl is doing here? One crashed into my window some fifteen minutes ago and gave herself an awful knock on the head. She appeared to have trouble seeing, though I don’t know why. I don’t speak owl. I know you wizards use owls as messengers, does she belong to you?”

“Hedwig! That’s my familiar!” Harry cried, panic erupting within him. “She’s hurt? Where is she? Why the hell didn’t you say so before?”

“Back in my house, that’s why I was so late, I was treating her,” Meadowsweet began, but Harry had already shifted into Freedom and was flying towards the door.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin!” Severus cried, when it appeared that the hawk was going to try and fly through the door in his haste to get to his familiar. “Don’t go off half-cocked, Harry!” He gestured and the door swung wide, allowing the red-tail to shoot through it and fly back to Meadowsweet’s hut. “I apologize for his . . . abruptness. He and his owl are very close and he’s very concerned over her. Though I can’t blame him, I would have been the same with my familiar.”

But Meadowsweet barely heard his apology, she was too fascinated with another aspect of Harry’s departure. “Is he a were too?” exclaimed the wolfen Healer. “A hawk were?”

“No, an Animagus.” Severus corrected. “We both are. My form is a hawk too.” Then he shifted as well and took to the air, his great black wings beating hard to catch up with his apprentice.

Below, Meadosweet became a lovely white wolf and followed the two hawks, racing swiftly down the walkway on silent paws, hoping that her healing skills were enough to mend the owl. She hated it when she lost a patient.