Chapter 05
• The Pack •
Harry was moving silently through the forest so fast that one might describe him as flying. Though, it was night and most people would not have even been able to see him. His eyes however, never having unnatural light, had grown accustomed to the darkness and he could see without too much difficulty in almost the blackest of nights.
Sight was not the only of his senses that had began developing beyond normal. His ears had become accustomed to the faint sounds of the forest and now they heard a battle. He slowed his trek and turned towards the battle instead, always interested in them. This time there was even more interest, he could hear the snarling of the wolves when they found and the clicking of the spiders.
Wasting no time he started towards the fight, moving even faster through the trees, no longer keeping up the silence he had before maintained. It took several minutes before he came across it, and he saw what he'd heard. While he'd only once before joined in a battle he'd been watching, this time there was no choice in his mind. He immediately saw that the wolves were in trouble and he bared his teeth, not once faltering.
Jumping onto the back of the smallest spider Harry began clawing with his hands and ripping with his teeth, he wasn't going to let them hurt his friends. The spider jumped into the air, startled at the attack from above. It was all Harry could to hold on. Any other boy would have been flung from the back of the spider instantly, but Harry was not. Even being as young as he was, his muscles had refined into steel and his finger dug into the thick hide of the spider, holding him tightly.
When the spider cam back down again it took a few steps forward and jumped again. This time Harry slammed into a low hanging branch and lost his grip, tumbling to the ground. The spider had struck at an odd angle and had hurt himself too, so when he landed he was barely able to stand right. It took Harry a moment to shake off the blow, but he was on his feet before the spider was and he was attacking it with a rock he'd pulled off the ground.
Amazingly enough the rock was almost like a stone knife from a time long forgotten, and as he gripped it in his hand he felt stronger. His leg muscles bunched up under him and then he sprung atop the spider again, he knew from watching them that they were most exposed on the top and bottom. The bottom, however, put him in much more danger.
So, from atop he pooled the strength of his muscles and struck the spider over and over again, penetrating its thick skin. It didn't harm the spider much, but it kept the creature bouncing around, distracted, while the other spider was left to the mercy of the wolves. While two of them had been no match for the eight wolves, one was not enough. It didn't take long for one of them to rip apart the pincers and then a few of the legs.
Harry found his hand covered in a blue liquid, which he could only think of as blood. The spider bucked him and he slid forward until he was almost at level with its eyes. It occurred to Harry that poking him in the eye would hurt. He buried the rock as far as he could and to his horror he heard the most wretched of screams. It chilled him to the very bones. The spider lurched again and Harry jumped to a low hanging branch as it bucked around, a scream still piercing the cold night air. Even though he'd made it to the safety of the trees he found he couldn't keep his balance.
Struggling to keep his balance Harry didn't hear the battle continuing on beneath him, he was struggling to stay on the branch. The spider hadn't been the largest one he'd encountered but it was almost 20 feet tall and the branch was nearly that. If he fell he wouldn't do so without a broken bone of some sort.
It was to no avail his feet, even with their almost inhuman balance, couldn't hold him and he fell. There was a clicking and a shout and then he heard nothing more as his head struck the ground forcefully.
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Someone was humming softly in the darkness, Harry could hear it clearly but couldn't decide where it was coming from. Water touched his lips and he choked it down as best as possible before rolling to one side.
He awoke again to humming, and something was forcing bits of food into his mouth. It wasn't tasty and Harry spit at it, but it continued coming until he relinquished the fight and swallowed. Trying with all his might he couldn't seem to open his eyes, but there was a calmness in the humming and he found himself drifting off to sleep again.
•
When he finally awakened fully it was in the darkest of dark. His eyes adjusted immediately, but he couldn't quite grasp his surroundings the same as if he would have been under the night sky. His mind played tricks with him, telling him he was in the dark room under the stairs, still living with the Dursley's.
The memory made him scream. To any other man it would not have sounded like the scream of a human, more like a very hoarse whine of a dog. Combined with the eeriness of the surroundings they might have though that a creature was dieing.
Harry moved again, his mind panicking. He found a corner and willed for the dream to go away, trying to push away memories of his aunt and uncle. It scared him, thinking about the outside world. He'd been in the forest for a full year and had forgotten much of the place beyond. Only the most deep-set memories stayed, and all but one frightened him horribly.
It was that single memory that kept him sane. That memory surfaced again as he found the wall of his prison and he imagined the girl next to him. Her silver hair glistened in an unknown light, a soft smile on her face. It calmed him significantly to see her, and once he began to calm down his mind resumed its normal functions, looking to discover the truth of his shelter.
At first, his hands roved the wall behind him only to find that it was rough and crude, not the sort of wall that would be in a house. It was rock, a cave wall perhaps. It accounted for the lack of light around him and the reason that Harry could barely make out the shape of the room. Slowly, and quietly Harry climbed to his feet, finding solid footing even on the uneven floor.
A blanket dropped from his body and his senses came alive again with the touch. A slight breeze tickled at his skin. Harry ignored it for a moment, dropping back down to his knee's and feeling the blanket, wondering where it had originated from. Though it was vague, he remembered blankets he had tried to fashion his own more than once. This one was different from his though, it was extremely soft and felt good on his skin, like the fur of Dog. Instinctively he folded it as best as possible and threw it over his shoulder, he would keep such a wonderful thing, while he didn't like life before the new life he missed a few things desperately and one of them was the soft cloth. The rag he wore now was little more than a rag folded over him, it had once been a cloak Harry had found in the forest, but it had been ripped and torn continually. Harry had only managed to keep it together with the potato skins that he had patched to it and even they were ripping now.
Once more he stood, and slowly he moved along the wall making not even the faintest noise. His feet found there footing one by one and he was quiet, trying to insure that whatever beast had brought him hear would not hear him escape. There was no light to guide him, but the smell of fresh air drifting in was enough to Harry's acute sense of smell and he followed it. Some of the rocks were rough or sharp, and it wasn't a solid floor either, the cave floor was just a mass of fallen rocks. Harry had to be careful as he wound his way through them, his leathery feet could still be cut, and this would cause him to slow outside of the cave, which in the forest could mean a quick death.
It took a great deal of time, but he came to the entrance of the cave and the stars sparkled in his eyes as if saying hello to a lost friend. The cold autumn air whipped around him, pulling the grisly locks of hair away from Harry's eyes and whispering greetings in his ear. Though it was cold Harry had adjusted somewhat and did not find it too cold to go out into the night, he had friends there.
Before he left the cave a wisp of air caught his nose and he stared at the man-horse he'd once met in the past, the one named Firenze. He gasped inwardly, but made no sound, he hadn't felt the centaur laying there and he was surprised, his senses usually alerted him before now. Unfortunately the entrance to the save was not large and the man-horse was laying across the majority of the path, but Harry could see a way around. It took a great deal of work to do it silently, but Harry slipped past the Centaur without even a sound.
Touching a nearby tree Harry felt the familiar bark of it, as if it to greeted him and he pulled lightly on a branch, easily slipping up into its arms. He climbed to the top of the tree, examining his surroundings. Nothing was immediately recognizable to him, though some of the whispers in the night were familiar. A stench of more man-horses drifted to him and Harry looked away from them, he did not want to go that path. Without thinking Harry raised his head into the wind and howled a long, deep note. Then, he waited.
For several long minutes there was no response, and Harry began to feel as if he'd been stripped away from his home, taken ever farther than he had originally thought. Then it came, not a single howl, but the call of an enthralled pack, happy to hear his cry. Harry turned towards it and raced into the wood following the whispers of the wind that had carried the packs call.
Behind him another moved. The centaur, Firenze, had awakened to the howl. Though he had not seen the boy exit he knew that the boy had gone. After grabbing a bundle he took up chase, following the faint sounds of the boy as he moved through the trees.
Harry ran without fear, the voice of night speaking to him as he did. His mind had one single focus though, the little clearing he called home. He flew through the trees untroubled and unthinking, as carefree as a child.
On the ground below Firenze was barely able to keep up the pace. He was downwind, which he knew to be a good thing. The first meeting with the boy had been an accident and uncontrolled, but since then things had been much different. Several nights before he'd seen the boy again, and watched as he had single-handedly fought the Acromantula, nearly bringing it to the ground. He knew then why he'd lost his wit to the boy the first time. In some ways it was as the other centaurs had agreed, it wasn't really a boy, but rather an animal shaped like a boy. It interested him greatly, even though the elders had forbidden him to go after the thing .
He had taken the appearance of the boy to the council, any strange occurrences were to be reported. He hadn't told them of the lost crossbow, or the true nature of their meeting. Still the council had seemed at odds about the boy. They were superstitious, and it hadn't helped that someone had reported the same night that two wizards had been chased from the forest by someone they thought might be a wolf demon. It was crescent moon, and could not be a werewolf and there was the fact that it had come out during the day, which made it slightly suspicious.
No one had an idea of what it was, but as it wasn't bothering the rest of the forest creatures it was deemed that it was best to have left it alone. The herd did not like change.
Firenze held true to what the herd wanted, though many times he didn't agree in his own mind with what the group had decided on. Firenze had nodded his acceptance to the council and, while he'd not gone directly against them, had decidedly taken longer and longer walks into the forest during his nighttime stargazing.
The boy had been given a title as an animal of the forest before the council ended. He lived like them, there were no signs of a human living there. Something nagged at Firenze though as he followed Harry along the forest floor. He'd seen the sparkle in the boys eye, the intelligence. While in some ways he was an animal, apparent by the way he moved through the trees, like a wolf on the ground. But, at the same time he was more than just an animal.
The first sign was the recognition of the crossbow. When the boy had wielded it he had been almost entirely human, he knew how to use the weapon. But then, he'd spoken and it wasn't really a word, though it was clear enough it was obvious that the boy understood something of language, though it seemed that he communicated much better with the wolf-dog.
Then, the tale of the boy and the wolves had interested him, he thought perhaps the boy had been adopted by the wolves in some strange way and the idea was strengthened when he'd first seen the fighting. His ideas changed when the fight began to end. Was not the boy on one while the other was ripped apart by the wolves? If he had been adopted by the wolves where was his companion, the one he'd fought with the first time Firenze had met him?
When the first spider was down and the wolves turned on the second it was apparent that they did not feel any love for the boy, the ignored him while the fought the dieing spider. They'd even turned on him after the second spider was dead. But Firenze had scared them off after harming another of them. They knew better than to play with the Centaurs of the forest. He'd carried the boy to a cave near the encampment, and tended to his wounds there. There would forever be a horrible scar running down his ear, but he hadn't lost it due to some miracle. The boy had even improved his health at an increasingly steady rate until even the herbs that the centaur was giving him wouldn't keep him asleep so he could heal.
Firenze had quit helping him and gone against the rules of the herd, if they'd known they would have stopped him. To help the forest animals was not their burden, it was against the laws that they held dear. But still, he couldn't let the boy die, nor could he let the boy get away without knowing where he'd come from. Maybe, if he could gain the boys trust, he could find out where he came from.
Harry meanwhile was oblivious to the centaur following and he stopped again, raising his head and howling into the night. An answer came and he was off again, chasing the sound of the voice. He was full of energy and the cave of the centaur was behind, he didn't want to be there. But, the blanket was slowing him just slightly. He had to be more careful as he hurried along the trees, he didn't want the blanket to catch and rip.
It confused Firenze that Harry was calling to the wolves, they had attacked him, hadn't they? As he followed Harry he went over the fight again, and pictured exactly what happened. When the wolves had finished off the second spider Harry had been injured and they'd all crowded around him, growling, but was it because they'd just been in a fight, or because they were after Harry? They hadn't actually bitten at him and when the leader of the wolves had tried to Firenze had scattered them.
Had the leader meant to do something else? Was he possible examining Harry to see how bad he was injured? Had the pack adopted him? Firenze was even more interested as he scanned for Harry. The noise that he'd previously been following had disappeared into the night and he stopped as quietly as possible, which was quite a feat, centaurs never relied on their skills of craft.
Not far ahead of him Harry had heard something and stopped dead, waiting to see what it was. The noise ceased though and when nothing came for several minutes he continued onward, wary that someone might be following him.
Sounds drifted to his ears, but none that was uncommon from the sounds of the night. He could not smell anyone and so he simply continued, howling ever once in a while to get a bearing.
Firenze was much further back, and was only able to follow Harry by the howling through the night.
Eventually the howling stopped and Firenze moved cautiously until he reached a clearing. The wolf-dog whom he'd seen Harry with before had met with him and they were wrestling with each other happily. The dark leader of the wolves was on the hill, waiting silently.
After several minutes of play Harry dropped to his hands and knee's and crawled up to the dark wolf, never showing any signs of fear, until he was right below him and nuzzling the wolf just below the head. It seemed that it was a signal of some sort because the wolf dropped all pretenses and was soon on the ground wrestling with the boy. The whole pack appeared from the bushes, and they too joined in the match. Firenze watched astonished that they seemed so friendly with the boy. The play time ended and Firenze followed at a distance only to find something even more bewildering.
When Harry had found Dog and the rest of the pack together he was overjoyed. The wolves had even shown him they were happy to see him, Ink, the black leader of the wolves, had stood above Harry and waited. It was a signal that Harry knew and he'd come quietly to show his respect. After that the rest of the pack had joined in the reckless fun, welcoming him back.
They'd even yipped that there was food beyond and Harry followed them quickly, his stomach aching to get real food into it. The pack had downed a doe before Harry had first called to them and they were guarding it or they would have come to him. While they had already taken their share there was still more left and Harry ripped it apart with ease, eating greedily.
When he was done he wiped his face and then after yipping a thanks to Ink, took off towards his own residence, Dog at his heals. It didn't take Harry long to get there, the wolves had moved their camp even closer to his, and when he did get there he sat inside his home and let the food digest.
After the long run, and eating his fill of the deer Harry found that he was more tired than he had originally thought. With Dog at his side and a blanket covering the both of them Harry fell into a deep sleep.
Outside the clearing stood Firenze, gazing at the tiny shelter in the middle. He was more than surprised, and no matter how much he wanted to enter he found that it was almost as if the place pushed him away. It was clear to him why, he could feel the magical energy emanating from the place. But he'd never known of a muti glade to actually exist. It was a wonder that the boy had found it, or entered for that matter, and it could only mean one thing. The wild boy was a wizard, only magical humans could enter the glades, and only a few of those even.
After a trip around the glade Firenze pulled a knife and its sheath from his side, throwing it into the clearing. The boy was without much, it was the least he could do to help him. Maybe he would be able to gain the savage boys trust.
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