While extremely neurotic, I don't often consider myself particularly the paranoid type. The mysterious appearance of
Headmistress McGonagall's wand, the perplexing Prior Incantato, and subsequent attack on myself in the safety of my own lab
however was enough. The wand in question vanished along with my desk during said attack, and I was NOT sticking around to
dance merrily in the offenders cross-hairs.
Part of me wished I hadn't found my way up to Ravenclaw Tower to read my schoolbooks until it was too dark to make out the
words, but hindsight is better than prophecy, and one can only move forward.
Or in my case. Hors du chateau.
Class attendance had never been my strongest attribute, and as long as my homework made it in, I was typically in the
clear. Some classrooms I swear I'd never stepped foot into and still managed an Owl in based solely on my homework.
I came to the conclusion that Hogwarts probably wasn't entirely safe for me for a while, and I should take a day or two to
relax. So I packed up my laboratory completely, and stowed everything from my books, Timothy's nesting, even my
transfigured bed into my Undetectable Expansion Charmed side-satchel. The lack of desk to hide away rounded things out
seeing how I already had one in the backup lab within the satchel. The Fire Cave along with the family of Fire Crabs
within would provide a cozy amount of heat, and the bed, while giving off the occasional honk from the goose I'd used for
the down was still a peaceful place to sleep. My Moontrimmer Broom, and my custom built Herbologists Best Friend broom
hung on racks overhead near the satchel entrance. With little more than the most minor layers of dust the house elves
hadn't cleaned up from the Reducto'd desk, one could hardly tell the old classroom was both a home, and a war-zone just
minutes previous.
Before the night was up, I was gone.
It would make sense for the entrances to be guarded, even were it not for a dangerous witch or wizard on the loose so I
opted for my secret exit.
Closing my eyes very carefully and reaching out with my senses for danger, I sensed no presence nearby. "Homenum Revelio," I whispered into my
empty laboratory. The closest warm bodies were in the Slytherin Dungeon dormitories deeper into the bowels of the castle, and I hadn't willingly
returned there since the night I was sorted when I got attacked by that werewolf just inside the portcullis.
No one had ever once offered up an explanation for the presence of a werewolf in our Common Room, but his tooth now
adorned my wand.
The very Aspen Dragon-Heartstring wand I grasped in my right hand having just pulled it from my left sleeve. Facing the
right-hand wall from the entrance, I tapped on the brick 4th down, 5th from the right twice in rapid succession, then the
5th down, 4th from the left two more times.
The bricks that made up the wall shrunk in size and pulled open at the center, revealing a dark mountaintop. Stepping from mortar and stone to soft
grass and twigs I entered the lair of one of my oldest friends: the Antipodean Opaleye whose blood I shared from an adventure in my first year at
Hogwarts. She fought a Yeti for me during my third year, and took up this roost to be close to me. The flight around the world took her over a whole
year to complete, but she'd never left my side since.
The stone wall closed up behind me moments after I stepped through. A minor tingle in the back of my neck tickled my
senses for a split second before the stone returned to normal, and was just as quickly forgotten.
With nearly every worldly possession I cared to claim tucked safely away into my side-satchel, I found my moonlight pale
friend just as ready to depart as I was. Her scales were cleaned, nails sharp, and judging from the sheer volume of still
smoldering ungulate remains, belly full. She puffed a burst of smoke from her nostrils at me playfully. I broke my sour
puss, and couldn't help but laugh at the gesture. She knew just how to brighten my mood. And from the look in her eye, she
had some place she wanted to go.
Turning her large frame south-western, she bounced back and forth on all fours, eager for our trip to begin. I came up on
her flank, grabbed ahold of one of her back spines, planted a foot on the back of her foreleg, pushed myself up
between the gaps of her spines onto her natural saddle. My feet found purchase behind her front legs, and I felt her
scales tighten up around me, pinching my clothes down.
Reaching forward, I stroke the top of her head. The back of my mind was glowing wildly with her anticipation. I mentally
painted a bullseye in the middle. A bright yellow streak shot across our collective minds and nailed the center. When it
did, she took off running. Diving off the side of the mountain was the fastest way to gain speed enough for
lift, especially with a human rider. But I knew she did it for the thrill. Mere seconds before impact to the ground would
have killed us both she opened up her wings, caught an updraft and rocketed upwards towards the sky. Our collective shouts
of glee echoed through the Scottish Moors as we flew away from our home.
Morning was coming up quickly, and I could sense my Opaleye companion had a whole trip in mind. We hadn't left England
when the earliest light trickled over the horizon. The dragon I was riding had been slowing down and losing altitude for a
while now. Ahead was a Quidditch pitch, but there was something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
One moment I felt myself gazing in wide wonder at a beautiful, dazzling sight, the next I found myself confounded again. I
was no athlete, and while I was a competent flyer, I had more skill spotting potion ingredients from a broom than
snitches. Snitches. Snitches. Why was I so focuses on Golden Snitches all of a sudden.
Suddenly we were diving. We landed with a hard thud, and I felt a spell break in my mind.
I opened my eyes. And wished I would never close them again.
The sun was rising now over the tree line. The dazzling golden light danced around me in a brilliant orchestra. The singing
of hundreds of birds crescendo'd, welcoming the new day.
I was so distracted by trying to make sense of the wonder before me, I didn't see the witch and wizard rushing toward me, breathless, holding onto their
funny hats, and clutching their wands at the ready.
"You!" gasped the wizard, as he doubled over for breath, "You're not allowed to be here." he finished, panting desperately for air. The two sized too
small tan park ranger shirt was bulging outward, holding back his lungs, denying him the oxygen he so sorely needed.
His companion, a witch in her mid-twenties, and equally out of shape clutched her side, mustered up a nodding in agreement with her coworker.
I stood where I'd landed, bemused and smirking slightly. I hadn't drawn my wand, I didn't sense a need to. It was clear I'd landed in an Unplottable,
Magical Creature Reservation, it only made sense given the confusion that had muddled my mind as the flight came to a conclusion. My Opaleye had
brought me here to ease my mind, and give me a chance to relax. Now was the time I earned it. While the two rangers were still hunched over, trying to
compose themselves, I reached into my side satchel and pulled out a notebook, quill and ink. One of them saw the gesture in the last moment before
realizing it was just paper and writing utensil and held their wand a bit higher at me in an ineffective show of force.
This place was going to be my sanctuary for the next couple days whether they liked it or not. Fingering my wand within my left sleeve, my eyes clouded
over once more and I felt my mind touch theirs. As I'd suspected, they were absolutely no threat to me. They expected visitors like cats expected to be
challenged by mice. It just didn't happen around here. But they were lonely, and were hoping for a visiting Magizoologist to drop in and change their
daily routine, even if just slightly.
I sat down against my hulking dragon, and began taking notes. After marking down the locations and date, it appeared as if the two rangers had were
about ready to flog me and drag me away.
"It's ok, I understand you guys are just doing your jobs. You must not get too many aspiring magizoologists these days with the Parks protected status."
They both stopped in their tracks, and looked at one another. In an instant the had their wands put away, and were apologizing for their mistake. I could
sense their excitement. Anything other than the ordinary was everything they craved.
"Of course, you go on ahead and make your observations. The only thing we ask is that your, uh, friend? Not eat any of the Snidgets. The population
here at the Modesty Rabnott Reservation represents the bulk of the entire surviving species." the witch offered. Most people would be scared spineless in
the presence of a dragon that wasn't chained up and out of fire-breathing distance, but these two were clearly enthusiasts.
"Oh don't worry, I think she ate an entire herd of Moorits before dawn. You don't have anything to worry about. I'll come see you two if I need anything,
ok?" I figured that was hint enough to go away and leave me alone.
"Absolutely, we're going to have tea up at the lodge around Two if you want to join us." they called out as they made their way firmly away from me.
A flutter of golden wings pulled my attention away from there.
So these were Golden Snidgets, eh? I picked up my notebook and continued writing.
Day 1, Daybreak, at Modesty Rabnott's Snidget Reservation.
Broke through the Unplottable barrier with moderate ease. The golden trails of light from the snidgets was easy to spot, but hard to hold on to. Their
natural agility and ability fly in any direction at any moment coupled with that confounding spell makes for a boggling combination.
The two attending park rangers are nice enough folk. But even being surrounded by one of the most rare, and skilled magical beasts on record, they find
themselves craving any kind of distraction. I suppose I'll take them up on that offer for tea.
The snidgets are keeping their distance from me. Even the enticing flowers that absolutely cover the entire reservation floor filled with nectar aren't
enough for them to risk coming near me and my Antipodean Opaleye dragon. A natural reaction from easy being or beast.
I found myself extremely tired all of a sudden. Cause and effect were a duality I never much dealt with. I'm sure if I'd put any thought into it, I'd come
to the fast realization that I hadn't slept since the previous night, and when I would have normally gone to sleep just hours earlier, I ended up fleeing
Hogwarts and riding through the night.
None of this entered my mind. Closing my eyes, I snuggled further against my dragon and under the shade of her folded wing. Sleep overtook me. The
soft singing of the Golden Snidgets lulled me through the morning.
My stomach more than anything woke me up. I knew I had enough supplies to last probably a whole year buried in my side-satchel. Glancing skyward,
the position of the sun in the cloud-strewn sky told me it was past noon. Probably about time for tea. I decided to make some notes first.
Day 1, Tea Time, at Modesty Rabnott's Snidget Reservation
The afternoon light is modest, but the sky in the sanctuary is glowing. There are easy a few thousand snidgets here. The trees are set wide apart, and
each trees branches don't start until around 20 feet up. Almost nothing could reach into those them and harm the occupying birds.
A few have come close to me. Their form is almost completely apodiform. Their legs are small, but their bodies are completely round. The long beaks are
perfect for the various flora here, and having so many littered so close together is no hindrance as they can move their wings 360 degrees around their
sides. Hopefully by tomorrow I'll be able to get a closer look.
Gathering myself up, I went and had tea with the rangers. They were so happy to have company they insisted I stay and go over some of their
observations with them through dinner. Before I knew it day was becoming night and I decided to came out in the reserve. They totally understood. By
camp out in the reserve, I of course meant in my satchel, guarded by my dragon. But they wouldn't have understood that.
By the time I climbed up out of my satchel the next morning, the 1 inch tall golden snidgets were more than used to my Opaleye. A whole row of the
cheeky little birds were lined up on her spines happily singing in the morning light. Their little round bodies bobbing with the dragons slow breaths. I
carefully sat down next to her and took out my notebook and quill.
Day 2, Morning, at Modesty Rabnott's Snidget Reservation
The snidgets are used to us now. They've decided to roost upon my dragon, and were not disturbed by my presence at all. I must begin exercising
caution, twice now they've landed on my open ink jar and nearly fallen in. The first flew off when I kept it from falling in, but the second stepped up and
perched itself on my finger. Looking closer, their bright red eyes are actually a deep black, but they reflect the red spectrum clearer than any other.
They must be able to see deep into the low frequencies of light, probably giving them an edge in finding the richest nectar for food, and fast-reactions
when danger is near.
Their tiny little round bodies make them nearly perfectly aerodynamic. Wind does not bother them in the least, that much is clear even with the minimal
British breeze here in Somerset.
This has been a wonderful start. But my Antipodean Opaleye is stirring awake, and I can tell right now she's not going to be all that enthusiastic about
being used as a bird stand. She and I are both well-rested, and hungry for something new.
Danger is lurking nearby again.
A mild tingling in the back of my neck told me it was time to go once more. I felt bad planning to leave without saying goodbye to my new friends the
rangers, but I was never going to ignore my instincts again.
Tucking the notes away in my satchel. I mounted my dragon as she stirred awake. She was just as ready to go as I was.
Shaking the small golden birds off, she and I both looked further south. But plans could change. Either way. We took to the sky and set off further from
our problems once more.
