I own nothing of the marketing empire birthed from J.K.Rowling's fevered genius, and get nothing from this save the brief satisfaction of favourable reviews…
Harry Potter and the Forgotten Shards
Chapter 9
It was early evening, dinner was over and Whitley had been assured that Weasley and Longbottom had detention with Professor Snape. Everyone knew that Granger spent all her spare time studying, and the others did not represent a threat.
It was risky, but he'd been watching the Unicorns and Mr. Dumbledore's goats feasting on the sweet, sweet grass of Hogwarts for over a week now, and he was fast running short of willpower.
He was currently watching the window to the Gryffindor common room, Katie had promised to give him the thumbs up when they confirmed Granger's location. Whitley idly ran a few stalks of grass between his fingers, watching as a deer stepped out of the Forbidden Forest.
He was almost tempted to run the newly arrived creature away from his grass, but figured another set of eyes watching out for predators wouldn't hurt.
A loud whistle startled both him and the deer, who instantly shot off into the forest. He looked up at the window, Katie was hanging halfway out yelling to him, "Ginny says she's gone to bed, and Snape will have the other two for another hour or so…looks like you're clear."
"Thanks Katie, I owe you." He relaxed, calming himself in preparation for shifting to his animagus form.
Ten minutes later, Whitley savoured his first mouthful of fresh grass in far too long. Oh, sure, he had harvested some and taken it up to his room, he had even tried getting the Room of Requirement to come up with a decent lawn. But it just wasn't the same. The feeling of ripping the grass up with your own teeth, tasting the sweet juices…there really was nothing like it.
So caught up in his enjoyment of eating was he that he had only barely noticed that the deer from earlier had returned, and was approaching him. It was only metres away, when the wind shifted, bringing its scent to him.
His nostrils flared as the scent of predator hit him. Whitley looked up at the deer, eyes wide, as he saw what had been hidden before…the deer had fangs.
'Oh Merlin preserve me.' Was what he was trying to say. What came out was a frightened bleat, as he started bolting for Professor Hagrid's hut, his short, but sturdy legs powering along under him. Somewhere in the human part of his mind a voice was saying 'become human, it'll run away'. The animal part of his mind however was saying 'and let that thing eat me? Are you nuts?'.
Hearing it bounding casually after him was not in the least bit reassuring.
Hagrid was polishing his new wand. The Ministry had finally gotten around to acknowledging that he had been poorly treated, and falsely accused on a number of occasions, and had finally granted him permission to use magic. Which led to him getting a new wand, which in turn led to him polishing it. He was very proud of it, Mr. Ollivander had made it especially for him, larger in size and of stouter wood, to accommodate his great strength and enhanced stature.
He was happily rubbing in a third coating of wand polish when he heard a commotion outside. It sounded like one of the goats was in trouble. He snatched up his crossbow (old habits dying hard) and rushed out the door, to see a sheep lying on it's back, pinned in place by a deer. The deer was holding it down with one hoof, while attempting to bite it's throat with the wickedest set of fangs Hagrid had seen in months.
"HOI, none a tha' now!" Hagrid yelled out.
The deer looked up at him, wide eyed, backed off from the sheep a bit, spread a previously unseen pair of wings, and took off, quickly disappearing over the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid had never hoped to see a livingPeryton in person, they were too rare, and to have one right there in front of him. He didn't know if his heart could take the joy.
He looked down to see that the sheep had transformed back into young Whitley.
Whitley could barely breathe, and just thanked providence that his fleece had been growing in nicely, and that Hagrid had been home. Losing a bit of wool around the neck was nothing compared to having your throat ripped out.
He shifted back to his human form, swallowing convulsively. After a few minutes, he got up and, having managed not to puke, looked up at Hagrid.
"Yer arrigh' thar, Whitley? Do yeh need teh see Ma'am Pomfrey?"
"No, I think I'm fine." He ran his fingers over his throat, only a faint redness gave testament to his close call. "What was that, Professor? I thought it was a deer until the wind changed direction and brought it's smell to me."
"Aye, tha's how they hunt. 'Twas a Peryton. They look jus' like a deer, wander up teh a critter, an' pounce. I'm afraid tha's the las' time yeh'll be able teh come out 'till we round it up. Too dangerous." Hagrid shook his head sadly.
Whitley nodded and, shoulders slumped in defeat, headed back to the castle.
Hermione was mortified. She hadn't meant to get so carried away, but the instincts were quite overwhelming. She had very nearly killed something, hunted and killed something, right outside the castle on the lawn.
From the looks of it, a sheep. She still had a clump of its wool, and was currently running it through her fingers, trying to remember where she has smelled that before. She wasn't used to relying on her other senses yet, just as she wasn't used to the subtle siren song of the Peryton's instincts.
Sheep! Ron's been going on about lamb for a while now, maybe he'll recognise it.
She rushed down to the common room to catch up with him before they went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Ron!"
He froze. The tone in Hermione's voice, the tenseness in her posture…something was wrong. "What's happened? Are you alright?"
"Tell me what you think of this." She held out a small handful of white stuff to him.
Ron took it from her, "Wool? What about…?" He stopped mid-sentence as he caught a whiff of it, bringing it up to his nose for a better smell. "This is what I've been smelling all this time. Where did you find this?" He looked relieved.
She blushed, "Not here, later, we'll need to talk to the others as well."
Ron's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline when he saw her blush, just nodding when she asked him to wait for an explanation. He took another sniff of the wool, and handed it back to her, following her down to the Great Hall to join the others for breakfast.
"What's the matter Hermione?" Harry was concerned, she had rushed in late last night, ignoring everyone and going straight to her dorm.
"We need to have a meeting, later." She said, stacking a pile of meat onto her plate.
The others nodded; nothing more needed to be said.
That evening in the new Marauder's Lair, a rather sombre group was awaiting the arrival of their mentor, Remus Lupin; evidently, he was running late.
"So, what's this about Hermione? Why the sudden meeting?" Ginny was fidgeting.
"It's about our Animagus forms. There's something we may have, no, definitely overlooked. The form's instincts." Hermione looked at Harry, "Remember back when Ron forst completed the transformation?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I was worried that Ron's instincts, his animal mind, may have been in control when he awoke."
Ron's eyebrows rose, nobody had told him that little detail.
"No offence intended Ron, I was just thinking about how often Sirius used to succumb to the instinctive urges of his dog form, and if someone as experienced as him could have that happen…" Harry trailed off.
Ron sat quietly thinking and eventually spoke, "Okay, I can accept that. But what is the issue here, Hermione?"
"I lost it last night."
Shocked gasps came from most of the group.
Luna's eyes narrowed, "Perhaps a more complete explanation…I'm sure Remus would like to hear this as well." She turned to look at the newly arrived werewolf.
The others all nodded greetings to him. Harry got up and hugged him, before summoning a chair for him.
Remus Lupin had overheard the last couple of statements, and it worried him. "Please, do go on."
Hermione took a deep, calming breath, and started speaking. "Last night, I went out for a wander around the grounds in myperyton form. When my wings are furled, they just seem to disappear, making me look just like any other deer."
She had the complete attention of the entire group.
"I was wandering around, when I came across the scent of a sheep, and that's where I think I started losing it. I'm still having difficulty separating what I wanted from what the animal in me wanted…" She looked away.
"Go on." Harry said quietly, the faintest hint of music in his voice.
Hermione spun suddenly, staring at him intently. "I started stalking the sheep. There was something familiar about the smell, but all I could focus on was the hunt. I got to about 3 yards away from it, when the wind suddenly changed direction, blowing my scent towards the sheep. It panicked, and bolted towards Hagrid's hut making a hell of a racket."
"So it got away?" Neville asked.
"Are you kidding? A small, land-bound prey animal escaping from a large aerial predator? Not bloody likely. Theperyton bounded after it, knocked it off its feet, and pinned it there with one hoof, while trying to get at it's throat." She was hugging herself as she relived the memory. Before anyone could interrupt, she continued, "Two things saved its life, I think. The first being my inexperience. Theperyton couldn't get much more than a big mouthful of fleece." She took a clump of wool out of her pocket and handed it to Neville.
Neville sniffed the wool, raising an eyebrow at Ron.
Ron chuckled, "Yes, I know. I told you all I could smell food that first day going down to the Great Hall."
Harry squeezed Hermione's shoulder comfortingly, "And the second thing?" Again that musical quality was in his voice, it calmed her a little.
"Hagrid. He heard the noise the sheep was making and burst out of his hut, crossbow in hand. It was enough to startle me back into awareness of what I was doing. I fled, took to the air and escaped out over the forest, before returning to the castle via one of the secret passages." She swallowed. "But the thing is, I checked the records when I returned to the castle." She tossed the Marauder's Guide onto the table in front of them.
Remus opened the book to the back, where there was a self-updating list of currently registered Animagi.
His eyes widened slightly, then he read out the newest entry for the group. "Whitley Haverton-Smythe, Sheep (North Country Cheviot), Distinguishing mark: Black bands on the hooves."
"Whitley?" Ron almost shouted. "All this time I've been drooling over Hufflepuff's golden boy?" He almost fell off his chair laughing.
Neville and Luna were laughing as well, only upright because they were supporting each other.
Ginny had her face in her hands, trying to stifle her own laughter.
Only Harry, Hermione and Remus weren't laughing. Remus was looking a little confused. Harry's eyes were glowing though, and a good-humoured smile lit his face.
Hermione was looking annoyed. "This isn't a laughing matter, I almost ate another student."
Everyone calmed down a bit after that.
"What do we do Remus? What did James and Sirius do? How do you handle your werewolf instincts?" Hermione asked quickly.
Remus nodded, "Have you spoken to MacGonnegal yet?"
"No, she doesn't know." Ron said casually, "We hadn't decided yet whether or not we were going to register. We did decide though that it would be an all-or-none decision though."
Remus looked each of them in the eye in turn. "She knows, and any other animagi in the castle would also have a pretty good idea about you as well. The signs are well documented in any number of texts on the subject." He looked at Neville. "Hows your diet? Still eating huge amounts of meat and little else? Hows about you, Ron? Hermione?" He looked at Luna, "Eating anything besides grains and cereals?"
"Um, bread?" Luna muttered.
They looked at each other for a few moments.
"How did you know, Remus?" Ginny asked for the group.
"A guess, based on knowledge of your forms and their eating habits. All animagi go through it for a while after their first successful transformation. It settles down in a month or so, but during that time the animal's eating habits prevail. As you should well know."
Hermione and Luna nodded, having done the majority of the research themselves.
"But back to MacGonnegal. She knows you are animagi, and it is a testament to her dedication to you all, that she hasn't reported you. I would strongly recommend that at least one of you go and talk to her…probably best if it were you Hermione." Then he added, in an almost offhand manner, "You scare her the most."
The look on her face had most of the group back in hysterics of laughter. Hermione just scowled at them, thought about it for a moment, then nodded ruefully. "I guess so. Anyone want to come with me?"
Harry nodded, "Yeah, I'll go with you. She'd never believe that I hadn't done it as well, even if you went alone."
"When do you want to speak to her?" Hermione asked.
"Hows about Sunday? We've got a Quidditch match this Saturday, and we really don't need her grounding half our team a couple of days before the match." Ron said with a thoughtful tone of voice.
"Okay, we'll arrange an appointment to meet with her on Sunday. Try not to get hurt, Harry."
"Don't worry, it's only Ravenclaw." Harry grinned.
The meeting broke up after that.
Whitley hadn't been down to the Great Hall for meals in two days. It was one thing to stand up to something when it was only a concept, when it was just your instincts screaming at you…but when you had come face-to-face with something that was trying it's damnedest to kill and eat you, it was a very different issue. He knew he would have to face them again, and soon, or his mind would get too caught up in an endless spiral of terror.
He got up from his bed and put on his robes, despite his shaking hands.
His emergence into the Common Room was met by cheers and greetings from most of his house. In a show of solidarity, unseen in quite a long time, pretty much the entirety of Hufflepuff House accompanied him down to the Great Hall that night.
He was quite surprised to discover that Granger, Weasley and Longbottom had all absented themselves from the Great Hall, making the meal quite pleasant for the first time in a couple of weeks.
Part of the way through the meal, a large white owl entered the Great Hall, swooping down not to Harry Potter as everyone expected, but to Whitley. He checked, it was addressed to him; he removed the letter freeing the owl to fly across to her master at one end of the Gryffindor table.
The letter was written in a subtle, elegant script.
I have scheduled a meeting with Professor MacGonnegal for early Sunday afternoon and would appreciate it if you could attend.
H. Granger.
There was also a clump of white wool in the envelope. His wool.
He looked across at the empty spaces on the Gryffindor table, and then at the boy whose owl had delivered the letter. He nodded, the boy-who-lived nodded back. He would be there.
Saturday had finally arrived. The Gryffindor Quidditch team were at breakfast. About half of them were too nervous to eat. Of the others, Katie only ever had a couple of slices of toast anyway; Ginny and Harry were quietly confident and eating normally; and then there was Ron.
Ron had skipped eating the previous day, he just hadn't been hungry, and was making up for it now; chowing down on a huge plate of bacon and sausages.
The Ravenclaws, on the other hand, were almost universally nervous. One look at Harry, Ginny and Ron had them convinced that the Gryffs were in top form. It would take a severely lucky break for them to win today.
As they mounted their brooms, the three felt a sudden thrill. Their senses sharpened, their reflexes sped a little, and they shot off for a quick circuit of the field before settling into their positions. Their animal forms were all aerial, and those instincts had all just clicked on.
They hadn't felt this good up on their brooms before, and they knew this would be a bloody fantastic day.
Harry sat on his broom, high above the game, only moving to avoid the occasional bludger. He had been aware of the location of the Golden Snitch from the moment it had been released. He was in fact watching it even now.
Cho had only seen the Snitch once, and was getting quite vexed that Harry, apparently, wasn't even looking for it.
Ron called a timeout, and the team swooped down to him.
"Harry, what's wrong mate? You're not going after the Snitch?" Ron looked a little worried.
Harry still looked distracted. "Sorry Ron, been a little preoccupied. Are we losing?"
"Anything but, Harry. We're slaughtering them. At the moment they'll only win if they get the Snitch, but give us ten more minutes and we'll be over 150 ahead of them."
Harry's head turned further away, still preoccupied. "That's okay then."
Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulder, shaking him to get his attention, "Harry, pay attention here. What's the matter?"
"Huh?" Harry focussed on Ron. "Dammit Ron, I lost track of it now."
"Track of what, Harry? You've been daydreaming through the entire match." Katie was scowling.
"Daydreaming? No, I've been watching the Snitch the entire time. I could have grabbed it thirty seconds into the game, but I figured you'd all want a chance to play for a bit first."
The stunned expressions of his teammates caused Harry to almost fall off his broom from laughing so hard.
"Look Ron, hows about you just give me a yell when you're ready to pack it in for the day, and then I'll grab the Snitch." Harry said coolly.
Ron blinked a couple of times, then a huge grin spread across his face, his eyes almost glowing in anticipation. "Just keep it out of Cho's hands, and leave the rest to us. It's just a shame we're not playing the Slytherins. Ah well."
They returned to their positions and play continued for most of the afternoon. Only twice did Harry swoop down into play, both times to swat the Snitch out of Cho's reach. The second time he did so, she screamed at him for almost five minutes.
Finally, Harry reached out from where he had been casually doing a circuit of the field and caught the Snitch; ending the game in plenty of time for everyone to get cleaned up in time for dinner, and the celebration in the Gryffindor Common Room. It had been an all time record score for a Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, and they weren't going to waste the opportunity for a good party.
Author Note:
As requested, the new Marauders:
Harry Potter - Mr. Scorch - Phoenix
Ron Weasley - Mr. Pride - Griffon
Hermione Granger - Miss Vixen - Peryton
Luna Lovegood - Miss Thunder - Pegasus
Ginevra Weasley - Miss Lightning - Stormcrow
Neville Longbottom - Mr. Scales - Hebridean Black Dragon
For those who may be a little confused about Hermione's form, aPeryton is a carnivorous flying reindeer, whose favoured food is reputed to be human flesh. It is the only kind of deer in all of human mythology that can fly. Kinda makes you wonder about old St. Nicholas now, doesn't it? Ginny's Stormcrow form resembles a large raven, a creature that can influence local weather conditions. For Ron's Griffon form imagine a hippogryff but with the body of a bengal tiger. Yeah. That big.
Now, for the interactions between the predatory and non-predatory members of the six: they have a deep and abiding trust of each other. Just observe any real world predator that is raised by a non-predatory "nanny". There is no fear on the part of the non-predator, nor any inclination that the predator even considers the other to be food.
On the other hand, there are a number of interactions between the predators that show they are exhibiting their predatory instincts, just fine. Particularly note the interactions between Ron and Hermione, especially with regards to food. Ron, the larger predator, often has to defend his food from Hermione snatching it; much in the same way a lion would have to protect its catch from hyenas. Neville, the super-predator, doesn't have to worry about any of that; neither of the lesser predators would consider upsetting a feeding dragon…
And finally, MacGonnegal and Whitley's reactions to the predators; it comes down to size.
Neville's dragon form is so large that neither of the other two even shows up on his radar. The sheep is too small for a meal, and the cat is completely beneath his notice.
Ron's griffon form, as a large predator, would consider a full grown sheep quite a decent meal, enough to last a few days, but like Neville, doesn't even notice MacGonnegal's cat form.
Hermione'speryton form, on the other hand, is substantially smaller than Ron's form and would consider a cat to be a very suitable meal; Whitley isn't off the menu though, aperyton would easily take out a sheep, particularly from surprise…
This is my interpretation; if ya don't like it, don't read it :-)
And finally, a big thankyou to Malaskorfor reminding me about Perytons. I'd been muddling it up in my head, but Peryton was the correct critter.