Gaunt House

Little Hangleton

Crushed mallow root applied directly to a wound will ease pain on contact and also prevent infection.  When ground and mixed with crushed tansy flowers and a drop or two of dandelion extract, it makes a safe antibacterial wash for minor burns and skin rashes as well.  To prepare as a lotion for sunburn, follow this recipe . . .

Harry continued taking notes from Snape's  Magica Medicina, writing an essay on the use of common herbs in medicinal magical potions.  He figured that would be a useful thing to learn, considering the dangers this quest was sure to have and how often one or the other of them tended to get injured.  Severus shouldn't be the only one with medical know-how, Harry reasoned.  What if he became ill or badly injured? Harry didn't want his guardian's life to be put in danger because he didn't know proper procedures in an emergency.  No knowledge is ever wasted, was a maxim Snape often quoted when his apprentice asked why he had to learn some obscure potion or Herbology term.  Severus even insisted Harry brush up on his Latin, explaining that knowing the language thoroughly would help if he ever needed to create a spell of his own devising. 

Then too, writing the essay was also part of his punishment, and it gave him something to do while remaining within sight of his guardian besides cleaning and sleeping.  And though it was a punishment, Harry discovered learning about medicinal potions was also interesting and he quickly set himself to learning the material.  Two hours passed as both Potions Master and apprentice studied on their relative subjects.  Severus was busy translating the rest of the notebook now that he had broken the code Voldemort had invented, it had been a fairly hard one, though not as hard as some he had broken in the past, but that was to be expected, given the fact that Voldemort had been barely out of his teens when he had started writing the journal and making additional Horcruxes to gain him his forbidden immortality.  He had not yet had the time to study and invent more complex codes nor summon up more dangerous monsters to guard the Horcruxes he had already made.

One entry stated that young Tom had broken into the Ministry archives and stolen several texts on summoning underworld creatures and undead and another book on dark magic designed to bring pain and suffering to whomever the caster desired.  "I learned much from these texts, ways in which to bring my followers to heel, especially those arrogant purebloods who were older and resented me for my youth and skill and my relentless vision. I am destined to rule the world, I have always known this, and soon I shall make sure everyone else does too.  My Death Eaters will learn what it means to obey and to teach others their place . . .on their knees at my feet, head bowed in worship.  For those who remain loyal to me, they shall be given power-the power to make all who oppose them cower and flee in terror, for I am the Dark Lord, and my shadow shall rise and cover the land. . ."

Severus grimaced and curled his lip upon reading that, for he was familiar with many of the spells in the notebook, he had seen them used upon others and had some of them used upon him when Voldemort was in a pet.  Crucio was among the worst, but there were others, like the Blood Boiling spell, that was just as bad.  He learned that Voldemort had experimented with several animals, trying to use their life energies to extend his own, and it was in this way that he came up with the idea to try and use a living entity to hold a portion of his soul. 

"But first I shall experiment some more with inanimate objects and especially those with powerful magic already set upon them, such as the Dragoneye Staff, which the old texts state once belonged to Merlin himself.  If I could get my hands on that, what a receptacle that would make.  It's kept under heavy guard in the Ministry vaults, but I'm sure after a few nights of my persuasion spells, the Auror on duty will tell me the passwords."

The Potions Master rubbed his eyes and drank the glass of cool water Harry had given him that was sitting on the desk.  Ah, so that's how he gained access to the vault. .  .by torturing some poor wizard on duty in the archives.  Evil little bugger! It will give me so much pleasure to send his twisted soul down into the depths of everlasting torment.  He read a bit further, and discovered that Voldemort had indeed succeeded in capturing the Dragoneye staff and perverting the venerable magical relic into a receptacle for his twisted fragment of a soul.

"Then, of course, I had to find a place to hide it, and there were no decent stretches of woodland left in which to hide my latest creation in Britain.  It was then that I heard of a haunted wood on the continent, in the Transylvanian Alps, a wood rumored to be the abode of Baba Yaga, the evil witch of Russian folklore who traveled about in a hut that could walk on chicken legs and fly, looking for children to eat and heroes to slay.  The forest was named, aptly, the Forest of the Night, and it seemed like an ideal place.

"Magic, magic, burning bright,

In the Forest of the Night,

Creatures dark and endless gloom

Await those who seek to seal their doom,

Within the heart of a tree

Rests a treasure fair,

But only those who have the key.

Shall discover what resides there.

The reward that's worth a kingdom's ransom

Or a wizard's magical soul."

Snape pursed his lips.  Another awful poem and a clue about where another Horcrux was located.  That Voldemort had perverted the cherished Dragoneye staff was not surprising to Severus, the dark wizard destroyed whatever he touched, then and now.  Now, of course, the treasured staff would have to be destroyed, for that would be the only way to ensure the dark wizard's destruction.  He flet a pang of regret and sorrow for being forced to destroy the relic and silently cursed Voldemort for defiling it. 

He set the notebook aside then and looked up at his apprentice, who was busily working on his essay.  "Harry, you may stop and take a break if you wish."

The boy jerked upright, quill still clutched in his hand, and his green eyes focused upon his mentor.  "Huh? Oh, yeah, I am getting kind of hungry and thirsty.  Did you find out anything else about the . . .forbidden objects, Sev?"

"Yes.  It appears that we shall be making a rather long journey to Transylvania."

"Transylvania? Like in Dracula?"

"Yes, but unlike Van Helsing, we are not seeking a vampire.  We are looking for a forest known as the Forest of the Night.  Voldemort had hidden the next object somewhere in there."

Harry whistled.  "Well, that's an awful long way, isn't it? Good thing we both have wings."

"Indeed.  Even so, we shall be flying for several days before reaching our destination.  And if rumors are correct, a walk in the Forest of Night is deadly dangerous.  There are creatures in there that were once known in legend for their love of human flesh, like night gaunt, and the acromantula, and some legends state that the trees in the forest are alive and a few can speak with humans, if they so choose."

"Talking trees?" Harry repeated skeptically.  Then he grinned at his own foolishness.  "Well, I guess that's no stranger than me understanding birds and turning into one. Hope they speak English and not Romanian or oak language."

"We shall worry about that when we arrive there," Severus said decisively.  "There is no point in speculating until then.  In the meantime, I think some lunch is in order and afterwards I shall read your essay so far and hope there are no glaring grammatical errors."

"There aren't," Harry assured him.  "After a week reading student essays, I learned pretty quick what not to do."

"Thank Merlin for small favors," the professor replied dryly.  "For once I can give my red quill a rest." He waved his hand and several packets of sandwiches and crisps, plus a pot of soup began cooking itself over Snape's portable cauldron.  "How are you finding that medic text so far?"

"It's actually pretty interesting, and I like how it's diagrammed, it makes it easy to find the herbs with all the pictures. It's clear and easy to read, not like some of the texts I've had to read."

"Yes, the witch who wrote it knew how to translate most of the Latin terms and medical terms into standard layman's English fairly well." Severus agreed.  "I have found that book very useful in the past."

Harry nodded, then bit into a ham and Swiss sandwich with pickles hungrily. 

After they had finished their lunch of soup and sandwiches, Severus was just starting to read over Harry's essay when there came a sudden tap on the window downstairs.

Hedwig squawked from below Harry, there is a post owl here with some mail.  I recognize him from school, his name is Magister.

"Severus, Hedwig says there's an owl outside from Hogwarts," Harry reported.

The professor rose.  "That is probably your OWL scores as well as your end of term grades."

He quickly descended the staircase, Harry following.

Harry felt butterflies cramping in his stomach as he wondered what kind of scores he had received upon his OWLS.  He prayed they were all A's at least or above, otherwise he would have a very annoyed guardian to deal with and his career options would be severely limited.  I don't think I flunked anything, but I'm kind of worried about my History of Magic, I did take it over, but does that lower my overall score or do they just throw out the previous incomplete score and give me the second one?

Severus had opened the window by then and let Magister, a large brown owl, perch upon his shoulder while removing the metal tube from around his ankle and thanking the bird with an owl treat.  "Safe journey home, friend."

Magister took off, calling softly, May the wind guard you, Warrior.  Good luck!

Severus shut the window, it was still gray and mucky out, though no longer raining.  He uncapped the scrollcase and out of it withdrew two rolled parchments, one with an official Ministry seal upon it and the other with the Hogwarts school crest.

"Hey, how come Magister brought my test results to you and not to me, like usual?" asked Harry, struggling to keep from biting his lip.

"Because as your legal guardian, your marks are supposed to be reviewed by me." Severus explained, before breaking the seal upon the OWLS.

For a long moment, Severus perused the parchment, making Harry shift restlessly from foot to foot.  Seconds became hours and Harry wondered frantically if he was going to be grounded for the rest of the summer or maybe even his life.  How bad is it? Oh Merlin, it must be awful, he's not saying anything, that must mean he's trying to keep from strangling me or something.  A trickle of sweat meandered down the back of his neck.

"Stop fretting.  You're not in trouble."

"I'm not?" Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

"No.  You did better than I would have expected, given what Umbridge put you through before your exams. Take a look." He handed Harry the parchment, smirking slightly.

Harry took the parchment and scanned it.  He had received O's in Defense, Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration, and E's in everything else, including History of Magic.  A smile spread slowly across his face and he turned to his guardian and said, "I did okay, right?"

"Yes, I won't need to beat you this time," Severus teased, smirking.

"What?" Harry blinked.  "You're not serious . . .?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" The Potions Master reached out and mussed his ward's hair playfully.  "Silly fledgling, even if you failed everything, I would never beat you. Maybe ground you for life . . .In any case, the point's moot, since you did brilliantly and can have your pick of careers.  You can be an Auror, or a professor, anything you desire. You should be proud of yourself, Harry."

"Are you, sir?"

The uncertainty in the boy's tone touched Severus profoundly, for he well remembered how desperate he used to be for any sign of approval from his own father, and he answered, "I am, Harry.  Your marks would make any parent proud.  Well done." He clapped Harry on the back.  "Shall we see what marks you earned for the rest of the term?"

Harry nodded.  "I probably failed Defense though, considering who was teaching it."

"The Headmaster informed us that since Umbridge was not known for her impartiality, if you think your mark was unfair, he shall adjust it accordingly.  But mind, this is probably the only time in the history of the school that such will be done."

"Oh. Well, that's really great."

Severus handed Harry the second parchment, and Harry carefully broke the seal and looked at his marks.  His jaw dropped.  "You . . .gave me an O in potions?"

"Why are you so surprised? You have improved your potion-making tenfold since becoming my apprentice, Harry, and that reflects upon your work in my classroom.  That is the grade you have earned."

He was rewarded with yet another dazed smile, and then Harry looked down at his Defense grade and the smile dimmed. 

"What is it? What did the hag from hell give you?" demanded Snape.

"A . . .D."

"Miserable bitch! That will not stand, Harry.  Based on your OWL you should have earned at least an E, and I shall tell the Headmaster so.  All of us know that she detested you because you were an Animagus."

"Thanks, Severus.  I'm not really surprised at what she did.  I'll bet the only ones who got an O in her class were on the Inquisitorial Squad."

"That would be likely." He took the parchments back, stuffed them into the scrollcase, shrunk it, and tucked it in his pocket.  "Now that the drama of the end of term marks is over, might I suggest you return to your previous assignment? You still owe me another foot of parchment."

"Right.  I'll get on it, Sev.  Wouldn't want to wreck the good mood you're in." Harry said, then added slyly, "Considering it's probably the first time in sixteen years that you've ever praised a student."

"Impudent brat! Go on, get to work," his guardian mock-growled, making a shooing motion with one hand.  "I'll have you know I tell my Slytherins well done all the time.  It might be the first time a Gryffindor has earned a well done in a year or two given how some of you behave . . ."

Harry walked back up the stairs with a spring in his step that had not been there before.  Severus's words still echoed in his head and warmed him to the core of his being.  That was the first time any adult had ever told him that they were proud of him and he was surprised at how good those simple words made him feel.  He felt better than when he had won the House Cup for Gryffindor.  His aunt and uncle had never praised him for anything and had in fact punished him for getting good marks, because no one was ever allowed to outperform Dudley.  But at last he could perform up to his true potential and Severus's approval spread a warm glow through him, and he found he didn't even mind the rest of the punishment he still had to serve. 

* * * * * *

Severus finished up translating the notebook the next day, while Harry was reading a small primer about Ancient Runes Severus had summoned from his personal library.  Harry found the way Ancient Runes were formed and the meanings behind them fascinating, but even that exercise paled after awhile.  Enough so he felt the old feelings of restlessness stir within him, and he asked softly, "Sev, are you nearly done with the notebook?"

"Almost.  Why?  Has your attention span run out?"

"Sort of.  I'm starting to feel uneasy again, the way I did before.  Could we maybe go for a walk or . . .fly?" He threw his mentor a sharp pleading glance.  "Please?"

Severus set down his quill, it was on the tip of his tongue to say no, wait until later, but then he recalled that Harry was probably claustrophobic, and it was probably a good idea to take a break and allow the Animagus time to stretch his wings.  Besides, he was getting a crick in his neck from leaning over the desk for so long.

"All right, we shall go flying for . . .an hour or so."

Harry let out a whoop, then flushed, embarrassed at behaving like some over-eager seven-year-old.  "Thanks, Severus!  Can I change into Freedom now?"

"Yes." Severus waved a hand at his ward.

Harry quickly blurred into Freedom, and the young red-tailed hawk spread his wings and glided lazily about the room, his brown wings glinting in the sunlight. His tail feathers with their distinctive red plumage had not yet deepened to the crimson of an adult hawk, but were still a light red.

Freedom circled above Severus's head and trilled, C'mon, Sev, let's fly! You've been stuck inside this moldy old tomb long enough!

Severus was not as advanced as Harry in his understanding of hawk in human form, but he got the gist of it and shoved the incomplete journal aside.  "Very well, fledgling.  I shall join you."

He concentrated and the change slipped over him.  In minutes he had become a dark goshawk with a snowy breast and legs.

He took off, his larger wingspan and body dwarfing the smaller red-tail, to glide serenely next to his apprentice.  Come, Freedom, let us see what the weather is like.

Freedom chuffed and sped up, flying through the attic door and towards the fireplace.  Catch me if you can, slowpoke!  He challenged, then shot upwards and out of the chimney into the azure vault of the sky.

Slowpoke? Incorrigible fledgling! I'll show you who's slow! Warrior shrilled and within a few wingbeats, shot after the red-tail and through the chimney.  The sun dazzled his eyes for a moment, but the goshawk soon adjusted to the brightness and swiveled his head about, catching sight of Freedom flying in circles above the house.

Look sharp, fledgling!  Warrior shrieked, then flew straight at the other hawk.

But Freedom, though smaller than his goshawk mentor, was more aerodynamic, and managed to twist about and avoid Warrior's rush.  Ha! Getting slow in your old age, Warrior? He taunted, then took off, flying hard, nearly reaching his maximum speed of fifty-five miles per hour.

Old?!! Warrior shrieked indignantly.  Oh, just wait, you sly little jackdaw!  If you think you can get away with such blatant disrespect . . .He put on a burst of speed, nearly catching up to the impudent Freedom.

Freedom flipped his tail at him and slingshot around a large oak tree, weaving neatly in and out of the branches.  Hey Warrior, beat that!

But the young overconfident red-tail forgot that a goshawk  was bred to maneuver through a forest environment and was eminently suited to flying through and around tree branches.  Warrior swooped and slipped over the branches and caught the parading red-tail a quick buffet with his wing. 

You were saying, Master Insolence?

Freedom shot the elder hawk a disgruntled look.  Okay, so you're not that old.  But I can still dust you.  Race you to that tree over there, the pine at the end of the village.  Last one there is dragon dung.

You are really asking for a good lesson, fledgling mine, Warrior warned, then he abruptly shot forward and blurred into a mass of dark and light feathers. 

Freedom let out a sharp cry-No fair, sir!-and then tore off after the goshawk.

He used every scrap of jetstream and wind current he could to propel himself faster and catch up to the wily goshawk.  It was more difficult than he had thought, for Warrior could use broader thermals and was surprisingly fast.  Still, a red-tail was born to fly the open skies and Freedom pushed himself until he was flying level with the larger bird.

Kreee-eeaarr!

The eerie wild cry of a triumphant red-tail echoed through the air just before Freedom put on an extra burst of speed and tagged the pine with a talon scant inches before Warrior. 

Whoo-hoo! I rule!

Freedom commenced doing barrel rolls in victory, then hovered, delighted to have bested his mentor for once. 

Warrior flew circles and spirals next to him.  You got lucky, fledgling.  Let us have a real contest, shall we?

Like what?

Like who can tag the most prey in . . .an hour.  Warrior suggested.

Tag the prey? You mean touch it and not kill it?

Exactly.  The one with the most prey wins.

Uh, Warrior, I'm going to have to fly a little out of your sight.  Is that allowed?

Warrior chirruped in acknowledgement and the hunt was on.

Freedom circled the village lazily, his eyes ever alert for any kind of movement below.  So far, nothing stirred, not even a mouse.  The red-tail glided, flying high enough so no Muggle could see him.  Where is the prey? There has to be some mice or a grouse or a duck somewhere.

After about five minutes of searching, he finally spotted a mouse scurrying towards a shed.  He closed his wings and dove, a bolt of brown lightning, and the mouse trembled.  Freedom's talons, just grazed the mouse and then he soared away.

I got one, Warrior!

Then the eager young hawk began a new search.

Clever fledgling, the elder hawk acknowledged.  But not clever enough. Warrior flew into the section of the village where many children gathered and left crumbs and bits of their lunches for the finches, sparrows, and squirrels and rabbits.  They called it the green, and it was rather like a small wooded park.

There the goshawk found much prey to tag and set about doing so.

Fifteen minutes later Warrior was beating Freedom by four tags, and the red-tail was sulking slightly. 

How does he always know what to do?  He's such a bloody perfectionist. Freedom thought exasperatedly.

He immediately felt bad for thinking in a rather unkind way towards the one who had helped him so much, to whom he owed his peace of mind, and he concentrated on his hunting. 

He dove on a rabbit, touching it ever-so-gently with his talons, and he could swear the poor frightened thing heaved a sigh of relief.  It's okay, Easter bunny, I'm not hungry just yet, Freedom reassured the petrified rabbit before climbing into the sky again.

The rabbit, once it was sure the hawk was not going to change his mind, bolted for the safety of his burrow. 

Freedom trilled and continued searching.

By the time forty-five minutes had passed, Warrior had found a total of ten prey animals and tagged them, while Freedom had only found six.  But the red-tail was having a grand time flying and swooping and wasn't bothered any longer by the fact that Warrior was beating him.

He loved the sky, loved the feel of the wind on his feathers and the way it curled around him, like a mother embracing her child. The wind was playful now, it caressed and soothed rather than attempted to rip out his primaries, and he enjoyed slipping about on the thermals immensely.

The sun was warm on his back and cried his satisfaction aloud before stooping to tap an unsuspecting squirrel.  God, how I love flying! And flying as a hawk even beats flying with a broom. It's wicked, and I wish this damnable hunt for Horcruxes is over, so I can spend some time catching a few warm fronts and perfecting my diving skills. 

Suddenly he spotted a small black nose twitching and Freedom closed his wings and dove.

Only to be beaten to the punch by Warrior, who thundered by a flurry of brown and white, his height and momentum enough to catch the red-tail and breeze past him, tagging the squirrel with a precise tap on the tail.

The squirrel shuddered and squeaked, but Warrior was away before the little mammal could jerk his head up, and Freedom had to pull up sharply to avoid crashing into the squirrel.

The poor squirrel bolted for the safety of a tree then, leaving a disappointed chagrined red-tail behind.  Rats! Missed!

He climbed upward until he was hovering just above the trees, and called to Warrior, Is the hour up yet?

You have five more minutes, the other replied, then soared off to the left, where a small stand of trees grew at the edge of the village.  Eleven to six, Freedom.

It ain't over till it's over, Warrior! Freedom called back cheekily, though realistically he knew he would never be able to catch Warrior's score in five minutes.  But he would give it the old school try, anyhow.

He liked this game, it sharpened his hunting skills and precision attacks without harming anything.  It also burned off an awful lot of energy and allowed him to have fun with his usually stern mentor.  And Warrior certainly was enjoying himself as well, even if he wouldn't admit it.

By the time five minutes was up, Freedom was forced to admit defeat, on account of not being able to find no more prey in the area.  But he took his defeat with good grace and Warrior commended him for his poise and said he had done well, which made Freedom happier than if he had won the game.

Warrior nipped the other hawk playfully, then said, And now, my young apprentice, let us hunt, for I am famished.

For real?

Yes, for real. Warrior answered, then turned on a wingtip and soared towards the same wooded area he had found all the mice and rabbits in the first time.  Warrior allowed the younger raptor to take the lead and scope out the terrain and choose the target, a nice plump squirrel that looked too fat to move very fast.

That one, Warrior!

Good, go and get it!

Freedom didn't need any encouragement, he dove and snagged the squirrel, binding to the prey and then mantling to eat. 

Warrior trilled approval, and then flew off to catch his own lunch. 

Once the two hawks had dined, they engaged in some more playful maneuvers, playing tag across the sky until their wings burned from the exercise.  But it was a good kind of pain, and neither hawk minded in the slightest.

There's nothing quite like flying, is there, Warrior?

No, there isn't. Warrior agreed.  Flying relieves stress even better than boxing. I have always loved watching birds fly, but never did I think I would become one with them until I discovered my Animagus form.

And isn't it incredible?

Is is, fledgling, Warrior said.  Brooms have nothing on a pair of wings.

Freedom screeched loudly in agreement, then flew spirals over Gaunt House until Hedwig came out and crossly ordered the hawk to hush, she was trying to sleep.  Though who can sleep through the racket you're making, you inconsiderate nitwit, is beyond me.  Is it too much to ask that you be quiet?

Sorry, Hedwig, Freedom apologized.  I forgot you were taking a nap.

Humph! If you weren't so busy having fun, you'd remember that, scolded the irate owl.

Leave the fledgling be, Mistress Softfeather, Warrior chimed in abruptly.  He called Hedwig that because owls have soft feathers and can fly utterly silently because of them.  He didn't mean to disturb you.

Both owl and red-tail stared at him.

What is this, a conspiracy? hooted Hedwig.  You wouldn't be half so understanding if he woke YOU up, Warrior!

Warrior clicked his beak and did not answer, and Hedwig fluffed her feathers smugly.

She's got you there, sir, Freedom remarked. Then he turned to Hedwig.  I'm really sorry, Hedwig.  I just got a little carried away.

Oh, very well.  I forgive you, it's the nature of the young to annoy the pinfeathers out of their elders.  But please, for the love of Merlin, do play more quietly, Freedom!  Good afternoon! And with that, Hedwig glided over to the oak tree overlooking the tiny cottage and perched in it, tucking her head down and falling asleep.

Freedom eyed her mischievously.  Merlin, but she's almost as grouchy as you, Warrior.

Don't get cheeky, mister! Warrior warned, and gave the red-tail a nip on the head.

Ow! I was kidding! Can't you take a joke?

Warrior gave him a mild glare then flew down the chimney.

Once inside, he transformed back into Professor Snape and waited for Freedom to return.

Once the red-tail had become Harry again, Severus said, "Get a good night's sleep tonight, Harry, for we leave here at dawn tomorrow. It's time for us to seek the Forest of the Night."

"Will do, Sev.  I am kind of tired." Harry yawned.  Then he said impishly, "I had a good time flying with you today, Sev.  It was fun."

To his everlasting shock, Severus agreed.  "That was the most fun I have had since I was a child and your mother and I played together down at the park.  However, all good things must come to an end, child.  Now go take a shower and then we'll practice a bit of Occlumency before going to sleep.  It is rumored there are things in that wood that prey upon unwary minds, so it's best to be prepared."

"Whatever you say, sir," Harry said agreeably.  Then he headed off to the bathroom, summoning a towel and a change of clothes as he did so.

Severus watched him go and thought it had been a nice change to see the boy so relaxed and carefree and acting, for once, like a normal teenage Animagus.  It was too bad that innocence could not last, the Potions Master sighed. He very much feared that what was in that haunted wood would test them both greatly, but come what may, at least they would face it together.  One day, Harry, you will have a normal home and a normal life, or as normal as I can make it for you.  Severus vowed, brushing the hair from his eyes.  But until then, Mr. Potter, forewarned is forearmed.  May Merlin watch over us and grant us victory.

* * * * * *

The dawn had barely touched the tops of the trees when two hawks and one snowy owl flew away from the sleepy village of Little Hangleton, turning west and south towards Dover, and from there across the English Channel to France and the continent.  The next stage of their journey had begun.