***Chapter Ten***

July 1996

He was more than ready for some time away from here.

Another year in the books.

One he was somewhat … proud of for a change. He no longer felt as if he was preaching to a brick wall.

The baby steps of his godson's first year were advancing beyond his expectations. Gryffindors and Slytherins were … friends. Other than his friendship with Lily twenty-five years ago.

Well, the two houses just did not mingle.

Not the case with Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. He wasn't even sure why or when the rivalry had turned from a friendly thing between students to one where the others were hated. By both houses.

He got along well enough now with Black and Lupin, but people weren't aware they associated. Not really. That Halloween of Potter's first year at Hogwarts had not been the only time he'd shared drinks and conversation with the wizards he'd hated as a teenage boy. A game of chess or something wasn't out of the question for either Lupin or himself to suggest on a night in the castle both found themselves with time on their hands.

Granger was not the last witch to attend a school function with a Slytherin, though it was clear that Draco had only wanted a date for the Valentine's Day dance, not a mate. (He didn't get the impression she was looking for anything more either. He'd watched for a few weeks, expecting … something to happen. It never had. The two remained friendly, as if their expectations for the night of the dance had been met and life was going on.)

For whatever reason that … relieved Severus. It wasn't anything he consciously thought about or spent hours of his day thinking about, but he knew that Granger did not belong with Draco Malfoy.

If he had been attentive to his surroundings instead of thinking about Hogwarts and human things, he would have been cognizant of the threat to him in this form approaching. As it was, he was thinking about those things and was, therefore, not paying attention as he should have been. While the falcon was a hunter, there were birds who hunted it.

The eagle came from out of nowhere and the resulting confrontation ended with Severus dropping to the ground like a rock.

He was able, barely, ensure his landing wasn't going to be the death of him. One of his wings just would not cooperate, so his attempt at slowing the speed of his descent wasn't as successful as he would have preferred.

Merlin's balls. Was this how he was going to die?

That was his last thought as he hit the ground with a thud unable.

*****

Thank God her father had the peculiar hobby of training birds!

When she heard the soft thud that sounded like something hitting the grass she opened her eyes, certain she was imagining things. It was summer break and she was getting some sun while going over the past school year in her mind. In her fenced off, private backyard. Nothing should have gotten back here.

There on the lawn not more than ten feet from her was what appeared to be a falcon. Or possibly a hawk. Certainly a bird of prey of some sort, and not something to be trifled with. Unless one had grown up around someone who trained and took care of birds.

So instead of freaking out, and potentially frightening the bird into doing exactly what she didn't want it to do - attacking her - she knew to be calm. To give the bird a moment to get its wits about it. If it wasn't hurt.

She watched for a moment, noticing that the bird made no attempt to get up. She also had a vague recollection of seeing a bird with similar coloured plumage a few years ago. She made the connection only because she thought that bird was beautiful. This one was, too.

She understood now why she had found the falcon beautiful.

What were the odds? She only remembered because of the obviously sick mouse he'd been about to eat. She knew now that she'd stopped the falcon from eating the mouse with a push of magic. At the time, she hadn't known anything but her voice stopped him.

"Oh, Daddy, really," she murmured. Was this a rescued bird of his, coming back for some reason? A few had done that over the years.

She stood from the sunning chair to investigate a little closer. As a child, she hated that her dad did things with her like hunt, fish, and rescue and train birds. Other girls she went to school with didn't do such things. She wanted to dance and play piano like those other girls! (As it turned out, she was acceptable at piano but dismal at dancing, so neither were appropriate hobbies for her.)

Today, though, as she stood over the clearly unconscious bird. Well, she was glad for the knowledge that had been imparted on her over the years. She wasn't afraid. She knew what to do. At least until her dad got home.

She went to the shed and got the leather gloves she'd used several times. It had been a while, so they were a little small but she managed to slide them on. She wished she could just cast a spell to make them larger instead of struggling as she had. She wouldn't be seventeen until she returned to Hogwarts, though. So frustrating!

She was half expecting the bird to be gone when she returned, but it was still here. And still not moving. She went over to the cage that hadn't been filled with any of her father's birds for a while, at least not that she knew of, and opened it. Now that she was away at school, it seemed her father didn't like training birds on his own.

Who knew?

"All right, pretty boy," she murmured. She hoped her voice was soothing so that if he was at all alert he wouldn't attack her. No sign of that as she gathered him up carefully in her gloved hands. "Easy. I have you. I'm not going to hurt you."

She eased him into the cage, carefully setting him down before closing the opening so that he wouldn't escape. From the look of one of his wings, though, he wasn't going anywhere for a little bit until it healed. She knew without a doubt that her father would heal it, too.

She went back to the shed, grabbing an empty water bottle that would attach to the rungs of the cage so she could fill it up in the kitchen.

The clock on the wall in the kitchen told her that her mum and dad would be home in a couple of hours, and then she and her dad could look at helping the falcon. The water bottle full, she went back outside, regarding the falcon in the cage for a minute to ensure he was truly out and not pretending before opening a door on the other side from where he was laying. She reached in through it to hang the bottle up, tugging on it a bit to ensure it was stable. If the bottles weren't snapped over the rungs right, it would fall. She knew that from first-hand experience. She checked the spacing from it to the ground, ensuring it was reachable by him from the ground.

The cage was positioned in an area of the yard that still got some sun exposure without being a direct hit for anything housed in it. She decided to draw the chair she'd been laying on earlier near it so she could keep an eye on him. Her dad would ask questions. She wanted to be sure she saw anything that happened.

Her parents were due home soon, but she was growing concerned when she hadn't seen any indication that the falcon was coming to. And shouldn't it be by now? If it was just stunned?

An idea occurred to her as she watched the falcon lay there rather helplessly. She was concerned. The same as the day she stopped one that looked like this one from eating what she thought was a poisoned mouse.

She stepped into the cage. It was tight, but she fit and then shifted into her animagus form. She'd never tried to communicate with another falcon before. Hell, she'd never been this close to another one after that one day in the park.

She hadn't spent much time in this form at all once Professor McGonagall had worked with her so she felt comfortable shifting in and out of it with ease and no concern last spring. A falcon had seemed rather pointless. She could understand the irony of someone like her having a flying animal as their animagus. That didn't mean she liked it!

Can you hear me?

Nothing.

She made her way across the cage to him. She was bigger than he was, making her believe she was correct in assuming it was a male.

I don't know if you can hear me or not. I've never done this before.

No response.

She did detect … magic, though. Was this a wizard?

She also felt something else this close to him. She didn't understand it. She'd never come upon another animagus besides Minerva, that she knew of anyway.

She had the overwhelming need to help this falcon. She helped her father, but he had taught her from the time she was small that animals sometimes were beyond help. It was the way of life, especially for wild animals. That didn't mean her dad didn't do whatever he could to try to help animals he found.

She shifted back then, opening the door so that she could get out. Her dad would be home soon, and he would take over care of the falcon to get him nursed back to health.

Hermione did not want to get that close to this one. She didn't like that … feeling. She wished she had access to magical books here at her house so she could research what it might mean. Was it just her magic finding his? Wanting to help another magical being? Was it like a magical distress beacon? She didn't know, but it seemed … stronger than that. Almost like a pull from somewhere deep inside of her that she didn't understand.

Her dad's eyes lit up when she told him about their guest in the backyard cage when he got home from work. She'd help while he was at work, of course. She wasn't going to let the animal starve or sit out there alone for hours. Especially if she was right, and it was a wizard.

It only occurred to her later, in bed, that no one had shown up to question her use of magic. She wasn't seventeen until September. She was very careful at home not to use any. The idea that she shouldn't change into her falcon form hadn't even occurred to her. Was it because he was a wizard? So her use of magic while sixteen wasn't detected?

She'd have to ask Professor McGonagall when she got to school in September.

+++++

He had never, in all of his thirty-six (and a half) years, been so well cared for. She seemed to know he was magical, an animagus, so therefore not a true falcon. She also apparently relayed this information to her parents. How did he know she knew this? She and her father spoke to him as if they assumed he understood them. (He very rarely saw the mother, though, she had come to look at him a few times.)

They ensured he had enough to eat and drink. They helped ensure he was clean and properly groomed before he was healthy enough to do it himself. She'd taken guidance from her father so that she could tend to his wing on her own if necessary (it hadn't been). She'd talked to him. She sat with him. She read to him. She read to him from the Daily Prophet so that he could "know what had happened while he was here". (Further evidence pointing to her knowing he was a wizard stuck in his animagus form.)

She did not seem to have any clue who her feathered visitor was, thank goodness. No war or not, he still did not want his secret out.

For the first time in his life, he didn't want to leave someone's side. So, it was with a heavy heart that he tried to shift back to his human form weeks after his unplanned stop here. It was time. He had work at Hogwarts to do if nothing else.

He did it at night when he knew the household was sleeping. He felt … bad leaving this way, a feeling not at all familiar to him, but he could not be caught. He was able to return to his human form, testing his arm to ensure it was as healthy-seeming as his wing had been.

Convinced that he was okay, he transformed back into the falcon form so that he could get back to Hogwarts.

+++++

Hermione stood at the door that led from the kitchen to the yard, staring at the empty cage. He was gone. She'd known as soon as she went outside after she woke up. She hadn't even needed to see that the cage was empty. (Her dad stopped closing it nights, presuming the healthier the falcon got that he'd leave.)

That feeling again. She really wished she had access to the library. Well, she liked that feeling even less today than she had weeks ago. This, though, was worse this time. Where the first time she felt it, she'd felt warmth. As if something was … comforting or soothing her. Today, she felt empty.

She swiped the tear away that had fallen onto her cheek, giving a soft sniffle. He'd really left without even saying goodbye or thank you. Or anything.

And she had no idea who he was to give him a peace of her mind for being so rude!

He was a wizard. She knew he was. Maybe he'd find her and thank her later. It wasn't as if she could do anything about it anyway.

Time for tea then. And to get back to doing what she could to prepare for her OWLs ahead of time.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com