"Hello, Potter." Snape said softly, not turning around to face the curious boy.
"Wh-What are they?"
"They're called thestrals." Snape paused as the beast moved off. "They're quite gentle, actually. But most people avoid them because they're…" The Potion's master trailed off.
"Different." Harry added, watching as a young foal stumbled towards them. "But, Professor, why can't the other's see them?"
"They can only be seen by people who've seen death." Snape told him, approaching the small creature.
"So…you know someone whose died then." Harry said, trying to act indifferent, despite his growing curiosity.
"My mum. She was quite an extraordinary witch, but my father had a nasty temper, and one day he took things too far." Snape said calmly. "I was fourteen."
"I'm sorry."
"Yes, it was rather horrible." Snape rolled an apple towards the foal, which squawked indignantly and shook his head.
Snape smirked at the little one's antics, then pulled a strip of meat out of the bag hanging from his shoulder and tossed it towards the beast. The animal eagerly skittered forward and chomped it up, much to Harry's surprise, Snape reached out to stroke it's neck.
"This one's name is Onyx. He's about a month old." Snape said.
"Oh. Do you name them?"
"No, Hagrid and I split the duties occasionally."
"Oh. Cool." Harry said.
"Indeed. Well, goodnight Potter." Snape turned and began walking away, cloak swishing behind him.
Harry blinked owlishly and turned to look at the foal named Onyx. The thestral cocked it's head to the side and squawked at him. Harry shrugged. "No idea." He muttered, spinning and trotting after the Potions master.
