Deathly Swoop

I slept little that night. The eerie sounds of the castle kept me awake. I had a feeling that it wouldn't always be like that, but since I didn't feel as secure here, it worked to my advantage. I could watch my petite witch sleep and also familiarize myself with our room. Our little space was comfy. But it wasn't us. Henria liked bold color and a touch of a feminim hand. The earthy notes and subtle nuances would most certainly change when my witch wasn't so tired. I was even missing the lilac color of her bedroom in Sitka.

I waited until the sun had risen half way over the horizon. I knew that Henria preferred a gentle approach to waking up. I hooted softly until she started to stir from her slumber. When her soft fingers ruffled my feathers, I knew she was awake. I watched as she sat up and stretch, only to recoil as if she had been punched in the gut. A wave of guilt flowed over me as I realized she had agrivated the claw marks on her shoulder. When she peeled back the bandage, I felt like scratching my own eyes out. The wounds were so red against her skin.

I had to calm myself down before I did claw out my own eyes, so I stayed perched on her headboard as I watched her gather her wash tools and new bandages. Henria opened the door and I heard a surprised noise come from the room. There was an exhange of sharp words, one was my witch and the other a male. I felt my guilt get squashed out of my chest and was replaced with confusion. Why would my witch have a boy in her bathroom?

I watched from my perch as my mistress converse with this stranger. And then my curiosity reached its limit. They were still talking and she was growing more agitated. I pushed off the headboard and glided into the new room to land on a towel rack. My confusion must have been evident, because Henria was looking into my eyes. My black irises took in the pale, blonde boy. He was only clothed in a towel. I felt the confusion burn into anger. I don't share my witch with strangers. I hardly share her with her father and friends. Who the hell did this boy think he was.

After pointing to her shoulder, the boy grumbled and left the bathroom. I sat, guarding the bathroom from the intruder while she showered. When she assembled all her clothing from the bathroom and entered her room, I followed. Henria dressed quickly and without too much fussing. Her hair looked to be a mess, so she placed it in a high pony, her usual hair style for everyday living. After a quick check, I swooped for her shoulder and we left for breakfast.

I think my favorite part of the morning so far was having to pester Minerva for a note. Henria had noticed that her seat on the teacher dias was gone. With a quick look, I was soaring to the Heads table and I may have been a bit brutal. I am sure there are rules against pecking at teachers' plates of food, but I really wanted to motivate the Headmaster for an explaination. I snapped my beak around a short note and pushed off.

I think my least favorite part was landing on Henria's injured shoulder. I felt awful when she glared at me, pain lacing through the look. My best decision so far was changing my perch to her other shoulder. I relinquished my hold on the note and when Henria growled after reading the words, I knew that her morning wasn't going very well. I didn't quite understand what was happening when we started to make our way to the blonde boy's tables, but a smug sense of revenge was settling in my gut.

A tense conversation later, I realized that Henria was grasping at straws. She was unfamiliar with this young man and didn't know his name. I scanned the Great Hall for a familiar face. I locked my gaze on the black boy from the train. My witch's shoulders shifted as she started writing on the piece of parchment from Minerva. A quick look from her and I knew what to do. I always know what to do. It is like a sixth sense.

Don't ask me how it works. Don't question any other familiar how it works. We feel our witch or wizard's emotions and intentions. We are connected on a higher level than just a pet. Henria and I are special in the sense that we have trained together for battle. Her uncle and father were adamant that she learn how to command me and that I would serve Henria in any way that I could. I am most certainly not her servant. I have my own mind and I do everything my own way. But we move together and I always watch her back. And while I am watching her back, Henria looks out for my wellbeing.

With the other boy's answer safely clamped in my beak, I returned to Henria. Her smug smirk and cool demenor had me feeling better. But when Minerva showed up next to her, I felt all the tension return, tenfold. Her pulse started to race and I could hear her mind whirling. I hooted in confusion and was almost taken aback.

"Hush, Denali." she had responded, "Not now." I ruffled my feathers in frustration. I hate the word no.

A sigh emitted from her lips and I returned to people watching. I really detested sitting at the green tables. A lot of the children had dark spots in their auras. The stench was almost stifling. But, this is what Henria is here for. To keep a weathered eye on the children of Hogwarts. And I am here to keep a weathered eye on Henria. And I noticed something very off. The blonde boy had done something to her robes. I didn't like it.

I hooted to gather her attention. I could feel the anger course through my veins. Henria saw the fire burning in my onyx pools. Her quizzical stare had me hooting one more time and she turned to the pale boy. He told her to look down and she did. I didn't feel a change in her mood. This was not something that would bring her to her knees. No, my Henria was made of stronger stuff. But I wanted to rip that boy apart. How he was able to cast magic on her being without her knowledge baffled me. I cocked my wings, ready to take flight when given the signal. I was awarded for my preparedness with a nod.

A screech and a low swoop had the pale boy yelling. Henria knew I wouldn't hurt him. I knew I wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't know that. I made two more passes like that before my witch called for my return. We left the hall at a furious pace. Henria's mind was buzzing with thoughts. I knew she was distracted, but I honestly thought she saw the wall in her path. I had to take flight again to avoid collision. My hoot was sharp and angry and she knew that. I could see the tears brim her eyes as I realized she knocked her injury. But to keep her pride, she didn't cry. I had a feeling that the laughter that reached our ears still took it all away.

Their exchange was once again tense. This time it was angry though. The blonde boy called my witch, 'American' like it were an insult. Henria ignored his poor attempt at verbal attack and shot him a scathing return. She delivered her remark and turned on her heel. I decided to fly close behind her because she was distracted again. I could feel her temper coming off in waves. And when she entered the classroom, she angrily snapped her fingers. I watched from a distance as she sat down heavily in her chair and I perched on a window sill, still not trusting her to be calm. And when she noticed my apprehension, she forced herself to calm down.

"Quit being a dork and come over here." she ordered me. My senses told me she was calm and collected. So, I floated my way on over to her.

The class was very boring! I hate that she has to teach. I have to listen to her go on and on about this and that. Honestly! I can only listen to talking for so long before I have to surrender to taking a nap. Which was nice. I was able to finally relax. But when I was finished with my nap, I wanted Henria to ruffle my feathers or kiss my head. But no! She was busy with the brats who interrupted her. No time for one's familiar now? I felt my agitation grow at being ignored. Then the bell sounded.

I fixed my unhappy gaze on her face as she wished the little snots a good day and finally turned her attention to me. When her hazel irises rested on mine, I looked away from her. I heard her giggle before she blew on my feathers. I hooted my frustration at her so she would get that I was angry with her. I hate being ignored.

"Quit being a brat." the gall! I am the brat? I was so offended, I fly ontop the nearest bookshelf and perched there. I completely missed that blonde boy appearing at the doorway, "Fine. Be that way, jerk."

"And I haven't even said anything." the drawl that has been following Henria all morning reached my ears. I glanced at him and analyzed his form as the two conversed, which didn't please me in the slightest.

He was slender and had defined muscles. While his aura was dirty, he had a powerful field of magic around him. It was nothing compared to Henria, but it was decent. Correction; his field has nothing on the late Albus'. I would avoid him unless we were training because the magic was so strong with him. But this boy was strong. He was very practiced. Even in the Dark Arts. I detested the way he smelt and I was getting angry at Henria for letting him be in her presence. He was not someone she should ever trust.

I tore my gaze from the boy and looked at Henria. She was pleading with me to come down. I puffed my chest and descended. And while I felt bad about landing on the bad shoulder, I didn't move. First she ignored me and then she is letting the vile boy stay in the classroom while she taught? I don't think so. I will stay on her injured shoulder because it put me right between my witch with that boy. I was going to make my claim that she was mine and mine alone. I don't share.

This class was just as boring as the first one! And there were whiners in this one. I hate whiners. Their tone grates on my brain and I pain likes to shoot to my eyes. I was glad when she gathered her belongings and started for the dormitories. What I wasn't happy about was the boy following us. It was like he was a predator and my Henria was his prey. Well, I guess I will have to let him know that she isn't anyone's prey. I pushed off from her shoulder and rested my body on the back of the couch. Henria let a hand trail over my feathers and I hooted my pleasure from the touch.

I watched as the boy finally made a noise and Henria immediately began to reach for her wand. She shifted around and came face to face with her intruder. I watched the scene calmly and almost felt bad for not letting her know about the young man. I did recieve a glare for the deception, but she tends to glare at everyone. I thought that the nosy boy would leave her alone after she dismissed him, but when he closed the door to her room after her, I did panic. I don't know when my plans turned south, but they did. They were not to be in the same room together without my presence!

I waited and waited. My heart was racing in fear. I felt my blood thrumming through my veins in nerves. They were taking too long. Then I heard a crash as something hit the floor of her room. Muffled voices sounded angry. I hate when she gets angry. Because then my job gets ten times harder. I also love when she gets angry. Her eyes flash and she gets creative with her wand work. I heard footfalls get closer to the door and I got ready to swoop in and save the day.

The boy was the one who opened the door. I pushed off as hard as I could to get as much speed as I could. I will defend my witch at any cost. That cost was scaring the blonde one with my devil-may-care attitude. I perched myself back on the headboard as the stupid boy cursed at me. Like I haven't heard my witch say those kinds of things around me before. I've heard her invent new curses on the spot. She is very creative.

I shot her a worried look when she didn't laugh at my usual antics. She just turned to me and smiled shakily.

"'Tis okay, Denali." she whispered.

I followed her as she fell into the bed and rolled over to fall asleep. She needed a nap and I would watch over her. She knew that. I observed her body relax as she dove under the warm waters of sleep. I relaxed and peered around the room. I noticed that she had changed clothing. I am not used to seeing her in a skirt. Trousers are her preferred article of clothing for her legs. She hates skirts. I've heard her tell Kadie that she feels like all the boys are looking up it. She is only half right. All the boys are trying to look up it, but I have a very influential and deadly swoop that scares that idea out of anyone.

I peered out her window and caught sight of Dee, Kadie's chickadee. I grew excited. I loved spending time with Dee! She understands most of my thought process. Because she feels the same way I feel about Henria, with Kadie. She is a small bird, but she will peck your eyes out and then chip away a hole in your throat at the pulsing vein. So, when she began tapping the window, I waited patiently for Henria to wake up and open the pane.

Dee flew to my witch and cuddled up to her. Henria extracted the tiny scroll tied to her leg and Dee flittered over to my perch to share. We immediately began chatting. Dee asked how the trip was and if we had made any new friends. If I could laugh, I would have. Henria and I don't make new friends. But I appeased Dee's curiosity until Henria was gathering her belongings. I looked at her expectantly as I landed on her shoulder. She just looked at me sadly. Damn.

"Not this time, love." she said, "This isn't my class. I can't bring you. I'm sure that Dee would love your company. She did have a long flight." I hooted softly with understanding. I returned to my perch and started talking with Dee again.

After we exchanged our stories, I noticed that the small chickadee was tired. I told her to nap and I would watch out for enemies. And that is what we did. I may have lied, but I was tired also. It was tough work to keep up with my witch! And boring too. I really hate that she has to teach classes.