Harry lay, staring at the ceiling with an unwavering intensity. Cold air flowed, dancing and swirling in a mist like fashion. It pooled across the ceiling, rising with each exhale before falling down in a curtain of despair.
Yet, his mind remained perfectly clear. His emotions calm and controlled as magic influenced and infiltrated the surroundings. It was something he was getting better at. The action easier because for the first time in a month he had a solid connection to Tom. And that had occurred suddenly and had remained unchanged since the early hours of the morning.
Harry's violent outbursts were fuelled by temperamental behaviour which Lyra had endured all summer. Now, it was a return of who he was meant to be, and after years of lessons with Remus, Harry was finally acknowledging and relishing in that fact.
The cold mist swirled, cascading in the most wonderful of patterns. It was better that Lyra wasn't here, it made it easier to embrace the darkness.
There was a loud knock on the door.
Harry rolled over, eyes burning and body stiff as he forced his legs to move. Around him the mist fell, rippling around his footsteps so when he opened the door it swept across the threshold.
Sephronia yelped and jumped back in surprise. She dodged around Ron, leapt down the steps and hid behind the central pillar.
Ron shivered, drawing his arms around himself, goosebumps pickling on his skin.
"A-are you okay, Harry?"
Harry pointed his wand towards the fire place. Flames roared to life, dampening the utter feeling of despair.
"Sorry. I was just practising."
"Practising-" Sephronia growled, head poking around the top step. "It's worse than Azkaban in there-"
Ron retreated slightly, crouching down to comfort her. There was a determination in his expression, despite his cheeks colouring bright red as he became suddenly very interested in his shoes.
"About last night..."
Harry reached up and rubbed the back of his head. It no longer stung but he could still remember the crack of his head against stone.
"Sephronia's much stronger than last time. Your patronus is getting better."
If anything Ron's face went even redder.
"Yeah, well. I have a better memory to try now."
Harry quirked an eyebrow, mouth twisting into a smirk.
"Your summer was good then?"
Ron grinned sheepishly, looking abashed as he ran his hand through his hair. He seemed relieved that Harry hadn't started cursing at him.
"Hermione's parents are much less noisy than mum. Helps as well not having Fred and George send Celendia and Demetria to spy on us all the time."
Harry grabbed his school bag and they walked down the steep spiral staircase to join a steady stream of students and dæmons making their way towards the Great Hall. Sephronia ran along in front of them, keeping well out of reach of Harry's immediate influence while Ron chatted about how odd muggle homes were.
"Seph couldn't get used to the fact that Hermione's parents couldn't hear or see her," Ron said. "She kept feeling like they were deliberately ignoring her. She made a right scene jumping onto the coffee table one day."
Harry smiled, but didn't say anything. It reminded him of Tom terrorising Dudley.
Ron slowed down slightly, glancing at the empty space beside Harry.
"Lyra didn't find you then?" he asked.
Harry shook his head, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.
"I'm guessing she took off straight after I attacked Neville?"
"Pretty much," Ron said. "She hung about to see if Cyrilla was alright, but I haven't seen her since."
Harry paused at the bottom of the entrance hall steps. The front doors were wide open, the grounds inviting as the sun rose across the distance hillsides. At least, if Harry couldn't find a way out of the castle then Lyra wouldn't have gone far.
"Come on," Ron said, half distracted by Sephronia who was wagging her tail enthusiastically. The smell of sausages was wafting from the Great Hall. "I'm sure she'll turn up soon."
"Yeah, maybe."
Lyra could easily disappear for weeks at a time, which was only made easier with Hogwarts' vast size and secret passageways.
Hermione was half way down the Gryffindor table emersed in a book. Ramiron lay on the bench, head in his paws, eyes shut and clearly still half asleep. Sephronia jumped up beside him causing the bench to wobble precariously. The otter opened one bleary eye and squeaked.
Hermione glanced over the top of her transfiguration textbook, a worried frown appearing on her face.
"Harry, we were going to come up to see you last night but Professor McGonagall said we should go straight to the common room-"
Harry reached across the table to grab a slice of toast.
"It's fine, Hermione."
Hermione glanced at Ron, who was slipping a few sausages off his plate for Sephronia.
"Well...we finish prefect duties before dinner tonight, why don't you come up to the common room afterwards? It'll be good to catch up properly."
Harry's mouth twitched slightly.
"Let me guess, you've drawn up a study plan already?"
Hermione didn't even blink. She set her book down, gesturing to the text she had been reading.
"We learn some really interesting spells this year, and if you had something to keep you busy and keep your mind off things...it worked well for your O.W.L's."
Harry smiled.
"I can think of plenty of things that are a better distraction than homework, specially before Snape's had the opportunity to give us any."
Ron dropped his fork and gaped at him.
"You're still taking potions? I thought you needed an Outstanding for that."
"Tom would kill me if I dropped potions," Harry said with a shrug. "Plus Snape couldn't exactly refuse, not when I didn't get an opportunity to take any electives."
"Well either way," Hermione said, pulling Ramiron into her lap. "If you change your mind the passwords mimbulus mimbletonia."
High above there was the flutter of wings. Owls soared around the rafters, flying in a large circular formation, seeking out where to drop their deliveries. Harry looked up too, wishful despite everything that Lyra was amongst them, only to find his absent heart sink when Hedwig soared down alone. She landed and hopped across to nip at his toast.
A small brown owl landed smartly in front of Hermione and presented the morning paper. After popping a couple of sickles in its pouch, Hermione buried herself behind the prophet.
Harry stroked Hedwig absently. An old picture of Tom covered the newpapers front page underneath a damning headline. There was no doubt in his mind that Tom would have grown in the last couple of years, would look strikingly similar to Riddle who was bound to the diary and frozen in time. After everything that had happened, Harry really didn't know how he felt about it.
A tall shadow loomed over the table causing Hedwig to hoot and flap her wings in protest. After last night, it was the last person Harry wanted to see.
"Potter," Professor Snape said, lip curling. "Your presence is required in the Headmaster's office."
Harry pushed his uneaten breakfast away.
"I have classes, sir."
Snape's smile was unpleasant.
"That is still to be seen."
Harry peered up at the teachers table, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of dread. Fawkes was perched on top of Dumbledore's chair but the chair itself was empty. Instinctively, Harry's dead eye found itself looking in the direction of the headmaster's office, but without Lyra there was no hint of which dæmons were waiting for him.
Harry pulled his breakfast back towards him, stabbing a fork into his bacon.
"I'll head up in a minute."
Snape blinked once, his unpleasant smile widening.
"No, Potter. I'm to escort you up there now."
When it was clear that Snape wasn't going to leave, Harry reluctantly reached for his bag.
"If you see Lyra tell her to come and find me."
Ron and Hermione nodded, their anxious expressions doing little to settle Harry' own nerves. It also didn't help as people twisted in their seats, angry whispers breaking out as Harry followed Snape out of the Great Hall.
It was a long walk up to Dumbledore's office.
Despite taking the most direct path up through the moving staircases, Harry trailed his feet, a hard knot forming in the pit of his stomach as they ascended to the seventh floor.
Attacking Neville had been an unavoidable mistake, but there was no point arguing that. No excuse would satisfy the Ministry, which meant that anything could happen.
The only comfort Harry had was that his connection to Tom remained solid. The reckless bouts of emotions, the lingering desire to devour was pushed back to the far recesses of his mind.
At the far end of the corridor, Snape paused in front of the stone gargoyle. It jumped aside at the password – cherry fondue, revealing the winding staircase behind. Snape twisted on his heel, holding his hand out expectantly.
"Your wand, Potter."
Harry shoved his hand into his pocket, fingers curling around it. He didn't move.
"Unless you would rather join me in detention this evening, do as you're told," Snape scowled.
Harry tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
"I'd rather take detention, sir."
Harry's feet ripped out from under him. The room spun, a rush of darkness pulsed as he was left hanging upside down, school bag crashing to the floor. His wand slipped through his fingers and zoomed straight into Snape's waiting hand.
Harry thrashed, trying and failing to grab hold of something. He inhaled and let out a rattling breath, only to find a horrible smothering sensation over his mouth.
Snape's footsteps echoed against the stone, his eyes glinting in amusement as Harry dangled uselessly before him.
"If you want to retain the small freedom you currently possess then you will listen carefully, Potter. Otherwise, you will find yourself in a far worse position than detention."
Harry ignored him, trying to pull at whatever invisible blanket stopped him drawing breath.
Snape's mouth curled into an unpleasant sneer.
"First, you will obey every instruction I give you. Secondly, you will remain silent unless addressed directly. And finally, you will not under any circumstances attempt to devour a soul, or use your abilities in any way shape or form. I'm sure even you can manage to remember that?"
Pressure was building in Harry's head, and his vision swam slightly.
Snape held up Harry's wand, inspecting it.
"You will get this back after this ordeal is over with. Now are you going to cooperate, or do I have to leave you silenced?"
Harry's jaw tightened, darkness swirling within. He fell perfectly still, glaring at Snape and desperately thinking of all the ways he could tear out and devour Snape's soul.
"I'm more than happy to leave you like this all day," Snape added. "Or as long as it takes for the message to sink in."
Harry swung round, arms falling to below his head. The darkness pulsed, fury running through his veins. Despite not drawing breath, his magic cracked around him. The corridor dropped in temperature.
Through gritted teeth, he nodded once.
Snape flicked his wand and Harry crashed to the floor.
Dazed and head still pounding, Harry scrambled up but before he'd even steadied himself, or chance a glance back down the corridor, Snape seised his shoulder, spidery fingers digging in hard. His wand pointed straight at Harry's head.
"Don't make this more difficult for yourself then you have to, Potter. I only need one reason."
Harry shoved Snape's arm off him.
"If you touch me again-"
"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape sneered. "Now get up there or I'll make sure you're in detention until the end of term."
Harry clenched his fists, took a harrowing breath and marched up the moving stone steps without another look at Snape.
He didn't bother knocking when he reached the top. Harry practically kicked the door open, his stomach flipping when it revealed a collection of very unwelcome dæmons.
Gracia, Amabel and a cat dæmon that Harry was unfamiliar with. Fawkes had materialised on his perch at the end of Dumbledore's desk. Harry ignored them all, his attention taken by someone he had not expected.
The Death Eater with the fake dæmon.
The osprey was perched on top of Mr Crouch's shoulder causing his neck to sit crooked. It looked so real it was frightening. Harry desperately wished Lyra was with him so he could see if the man's real dæmon was hiding just out of sight.
The unknown dæmon, a large black cat with a black velvet bow perched on top of his head, belonged to a woman dressed in pink who Harry had never seen before. The dæmon's face was squashed and his mouth turned downwards, giving him a rather grumpy appearance.
"I'll leave you to it, Cornelius," Mr Crouch said, raising a finger to the brim of his hat and nodding towards Harry. "I don't think I'll be much help here with Mr Potter. I'll be back later to discuss the finer parts of the tournament."
"You may as well stay," Fudge said. He spun his bowler hat between his fingers, his expression souring as he looked towards Harry, and then a patiently waiting Dumbledore. "I don't think this will take very long."
Harry crossed his arms and eyed Kingsley who was standing next to Fudge. The auror had a large gash down the side of his face, and Amabel had a dozen lacerations showing through her fur. He looked a lot better since the last time Harry had seen the auror.
Ignoring Snape's instruction Harry addressed Fudge.
"Am I being arrested?"
Fudge scowled.
"Not today, Potter. The Wizengamot remain reluctant to deal with the imminent threat of your existence." His voice was cold and bitter. "However, it appears that following the incident last night, the arrangements to contain you are not adequate...therefore, I have asked Dolores to undertake an extensive review to ensure everything is up to par." The woman with the cat dæmon cleared her throat with a pathetic cough.
"Why?" Harry snapped, ignoring the warning that both Dumbledore and Snape were giving him. "I've had two years of being in complete control, just because I slipped up once-"
"Ah!" Fudge said, waving his finger in front of him. "It only takes one mistake Potter. And I'd rather not chance another attack on a student before the Wizengamot finally wakes up to their mistakes."
Harry glared at Fudge.
Professor Dumbledore stood and walked from around his desk.
"Harry, I have agreed with the Minister that he may conduct whatever inspections he deems suitable. I've received a number of letters from concerned parents since last night and I trust you understand the importance of alleviating their concerns."
Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.
Dumbledore turned to the Minister. "I have other business to attend to with Barty. Professor Snape has kindly offered to escort Madam Umbridge and assist in her assessment today."
Umbridge turned to Snape, her voice was oddly shrill and girl like.
"Where is the boys dæmon?" She looked around as if Lyra would suddenly appear and hop out from behind one of the oddly shaped instruments which occupied the office.
A thin smile crossed Snape's lips.
"Until I am convinced that Mr Potter is deemed fit enough to control himself, he and his dæmon will remain separated."
Harry clenched his fists. If he didn't know Lyra was just on one of her excursions he would have tried to throttle Snape.
A look of deep concern crossed Umbridge's face. She pressed her lips together, while her black cat stalked around her legs, his squashy face fixed on Harry.
"Is that wise? Will Potter actually learn anything if the consequences are not permanent?"
Snape inclined his head.
"Regrettably, it is not an option to separate them indefinitely. Mr Potter is still reliant on his soul, just as you or I."
It was safe to say Umbridge did not look convinced, if anything her pursed lips tightened.
Dumbledore clasped his hands together.
"Well then, before you get into the details I will excuse myself...of course, if you have any particularly queries then Professor Snape is permitted to act on my behalf, as Mr Potter's legal guardian. Cornelius, would you care to join myself and Barty to discuss the transport arrangements to Durmstrang?"
Fudge snapped his beady eyes away from Harry and yanked his bowler hat back onto his head.
"No, I have urgent business to attend to. Kingsley, if you would escort me back to the Ministry."
The auror inclined his head. Kingley's injuries from Azkaban must have still been causing him problems, for he stepped forwards with a slight limp.
Fudge grunted and with a sharp nod to Dumbledore and Mr Crouch, a final scathing look towards Harry, turned on his heel and marched towards the door. Gracia, his bull dog trotted along behind, growling at Harry as they passed.
"Hem hem."
Umbridge bent down to adjust the bow atop her dæmon's head. The cat hissed, arching his back in protest. Then she stood to straighten her own pink cardigan.
"Shall we?"
Reluctantly, Harry trudged his feet across the office, back to the winding staircase with Snape and Umbridge in tow. Mr Crouch smiled and waved at him, his fake osprey dæmon watching with its beady eyes.
At the bottom of the staircase, Harry retrieved his abandoned bag and had barely made it two steps down the corridor when Umbridge coughed again.
"If you would excuse me for a moment."
She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a clipboard along with a long roll of parchment. The quill's feathers were bright pink. She dipped it into an ink pot which had floated up to hover just below her shoulders and turned to Snape with an unsettling smile.
"So you are in charge of all matters relating to Mr Potter?"
Snape's mouth curled into a smirk.
"Yes. Potter is difficult to control and as such must be managed by someone who is competent in dealing with such dark creatures."
"I see." Umbridge marked something down on the parchment. "And you believe yourself to be suitably qualified?"
"Naturally. I was tasked with managing Potter after his initial transformation and have been primarily in charge of his rehabilitation since. Despite what recent events may indicate, Mr Potter has come on a long way since then."
"So I have seen," Umbridge said, voice horribly shrill. "Although I wasn't convinced Potter should have been allowed to mingle with his peers at all."
That caught Harry's attention.
"You were at the Wizengamot, weren't you?" he said. "When the Minister was trying to get me put back in St Mungo's."
Umbridge completely ignored him.
"Shall we start with Mr Potter's living arrangements?"
Snape nodded. He gestured for Harry to lead the way.
Harry scowled at the pair, but turned and stormed off in front of them, his hands stuffed in his pockets were his wand should be.
He tried to ignore them as he walked ahead. It was almost impossible as Umbridge kept interrupting Snape with her pathetic cough to ask stupid questions.
When they reached the top of Harry's tower, there was a new lock chained to the bars which hadn't been there this morning. Harry resisted the urge to roll his good eye as it slid open and allowed him to enter.
In addition, there were other changes to his room. Most of his school books were locked in a newly installed cabinet and a large poster had been plastered on the wall above the fireplace. It appeared to have a large list of rules on it, including No 5. Don't approach other dæmons under any circumstance. This time Harry did look at Snape. Surely this was over the top. Umbridge however, didn't seem to think so, she nodded and then made a large tick on her clip board.
Hedwig perched on her usual spot on the windowsill. Her large yellow eyes fixed on Umbridge who started to walk around the room, scribbling down notes as she inspected each and every inch of the place.
Finally, she spun on her heel and still completely ignoring Harry cleared her throat again.
"Would you be kind enough to explain how you deal with Mr Potter if he steps out of line?"
Snape withdrew his wand.
"Personally, I find a direct approach works best. Would you like a demonstration?"
The wand strook before she answered, before Harry could prepare.
"Expecto Patronum."
A cold and unnatural light burst into existence. Laraine who had been no where to be seen, was suddenly there, her protected form radiating waves of impenetrable force.
Harry staggered, his breath catching from being plunged into an icy depths. His limbs heavy with exhaustion, like he was trying to wade through treacle. The light oppressive and poised to destroy every part of him.
Pressing himself against the far wall was the furthest he could retreat. Harry shivered, body repelled as the darkness gouged inwards, desperately seeking a way to escape.
The spell broke.
Harry fell forwards, breathing in sharp uneven gasps. His fingers scratched into the stone wall, clinging to any remnant of strength in an attempt to steady his trembling legs. He wasn't used to such a direct attack. Laraine retreated, beating her wings as she flew to perch on top of the cabinet.
A horribly sweet smile had crept onto Umbridge's face.
"Can I try?"
Snape's black eyes were alight with equally wicked amusement.
"Certainly."
There was no time to recover. The black cat pounced and Harry was left fully exposed, cold light carving into his decayed flesh. Harry slipped to the floor, his body collapsing from the sheer oppressive force.
Umbridge was talking, her voice a hollow echo. Harry could barely make out the words, could not concentrate on his surroundings. Each breath was weaker than the last, rattling and unable to draw air, let alone anything else. Flickers of light danced in Harry's vision as within him the darkness began to burn. It was suffocating, felt sickeningly close to his initial transformation when it had rushed through his body and claimed him.
And it wasn't stopping.
The cold light was pushing into his body, cutting deeper and seeking out the darkness in a desparate need to destroy. Harry grasped at his chest, his absent heart withered against the onslaught, unable to yeild any fight as it constricted in painful motions. This couldn't be how it ended-
Snape moved, a lazy motion with his hand. The black cat leapt away, the cold light fading.
Harry fell forwards, palms pressed against the floor. His head throbbed from a dim pounding, vision blurry as everything spun. Every inch of him was shaking, trembling uncontrollably. He needed Lyra...couldn't hope to fight either of them without her.
"Get up, Potter."
With immense effort, Harry staggered to his feet. His chest burned, his breathing sharp and shallow as his lungs gasped from the lack of oxygen.
Umbridge's dæmon prowled back and forth, edging closer and ready to leap back into his protected form. Umbridge at least seemed satisfied with the result, for she placed her wand back into her handbag.
Snape kept his own held lightly in his palm, a nasty sneer on his face. Harry clenched his jaw and eyed him warily.
"Mr Potter's friends were taught the patronus charm due to the amount of time they spend with him," Snape said. "Unfortunately, it is not part of the curriculum."
Umbridge scribbled something on her notepad. Her mouth twitching into a horribly sweet smile.
"How disappointing."
"Students in Mr Potter's year are advised to minimise contact with him outside of classes, recognising that they do so at their own risk," Snape continued. "Otherwise, the rest of the student population is to avoid contact with Mr Potter and report any incident to a teacher immediately. Of course, I will be kept informed of all incidents."
Umbridge wrote something else on her clipboard, glancing at Harry as if he was something foul like a piece of dirt on her shoe.
"And I believe Mr Potter is permitted the use of a wand?"
"It has been confiscated after last night," Snape said, and he removed Harry's wand from his pocket in a totally unnecessary demonstration. "Naturally, the boy is legally allowed to use magic, but until we can be certain the same thing will not happen again, it will be strictly controlled."
"Well at least that's in hand," Umbridge said, ticking off something else. "Now, in relation to Mr Potter's punishment-"
Hot anger thrummed through Harry, but the lingering effects of the patronus charm still resonated...he steadied himself, his voice hollow.
"My punishment?"
"Oh dear," Umbridge said, her mouth parting slightly. It would have been comical if the situation wasn't so serious. "You attacked another student, Mr Potter. If you haven't even conceived the notion that this was wrong-"
"I wouldn't worry," Snape said. "Unless attending classes, Mr Potter will be confined to his tower for the foreseeable future. He will also serve a number of detentions with myself, until I'm satisfied that he understands the severity of what he has done."
Umbridge paused, blinking slightly. Her hand tightened around her pink handbag. Her dæmon meowed and she bent down to scratch him absently behind his ear.
"Will the detentions involve corporal punishment?"
"Naturally," Snape said. "Of course, it is not the recommended way of dealing with students at Hogwarts, but I'm sure you understand that Mr Potter is an exception."
Umbridge smiled, and for the first time her eyes narrowed. Her dæmon mirrored her suspicion as he hissed towards Laraine.
"I'm surprised to hear Professor Dumbledore would allow that?"
Snape's mouth curled into a horrible smirk.
"Professor Dumbledore has placed his trust in me to manage the arrangements with Mr Potter accordingly. I have complete authority on the matter, regardless of if my some of my colleagues may disagree with my methods, they have proved to be effective."
It was if they were speaking about a caged animal.
Harry couldn't think straight, his swayed slightly, hand reaching into his pocket automatically.
"So why do you believe Mr Potter decided to attack another student now?" Umbridge said. "If you have kept him controlled for the last two years..."
"I didn't-" Harry started, but Snape was quicker, silencing him with a lazy flick of his wand.
"Unfortunately, Mr Potter's summer residence is not somewhere I am welcome. Of course, spending a few months without any strict discipline will be counter productive, and returning to school where there are hundreds of dæmons, Mr Potter will push the boundaries. I will be sure to enforce stricter arrangements at the start of any term to...refresh Potter's memories of what is expected of him."
Umbridge wrote something else on her clipboard.
"And do you think it is safe to allow Potter to play Quidditch?" she asked. "I hardly think it's appropriate after the boy has been known to attack other students on the pitch before?"
Snape's expression tightened slightly, and not for the first time he glared at Harry.
"I have expressed my concerns to the Headmaster, but in this instance, it is the boy's head of house who has control over this matter."
Harry glared back, resisting the urge to sink the room into a deathly cold. He wouldn't give Snape the satisfaction, knew that he was itching to use a patronus again and that Snape would take any opportunity to throw him off the team to give Slytherin a chance for the cup.
"I see," Umbridge said. Her dæmon meowed and began pacing restlessly around her feet. "Then perhaps later I should speak to Mr Potter's head of house-"
Harry crossed to his bed and sank into it, trying desperately to cut out the pair of them. He clenched his hands together to stop them shaking. He'd never been held under a patronus that long before...and he never wanted to again. It was as if the darkness was burying deeper, was cutting into his absent heart to burst from his chest and rip him apart.
The bell rang throughout the tower. Harry flinched, instinct expecting another curse. He failed miserably to hide his reaction from either Snape and Umbridge.
"Well," Umbridge smiled, making another tick on her checklist. "I must admit, it does seem like you have the boy controlled."
Snape's mouth curled into a smirk.
"If you would like to accompany me to my office, I will go into further details regarding the other arrangements we have in place," Snape said. He then cast Harry a nasty look. "Potter, you're to stay here until your detention tonight."
"Yes, sir," Harry said, trying and failing to keep the venom out of his voice. Having already missed Defence Against the Dark Arts, he had no desire to deal with Snape in potions this afternoon.
Umbridge placed the pink handbag on the floor and her cat hopped in between the open clasps. He looked ridiculous with his squashy face poking out, and even more so when Umbridge tucked the handbag under her arm.
Snape offered him one last horrible smile as Laraine swooped down from the ceiling, coming to land on his shoulder. Fortunately, Umbridge seemed satisfied to ignore Harry as she followed Snape from the room. The door shut behind them and Harry heard the distinctive sound of the iron bars sliding into place.
He wouldn't be going anywhere.
Harry stood, vision swaying violently as he kicked his bed, regretting it instantly at the sharp pain which ran through his foot.
He had vowed never to be this weak again, yet in the last few days his world seemed to be crumbling apart, and the control was slipping through his fingers.
The desire to escape the castle, lose the trace and disappear had never felt so strong. And he couldn't do that alone.
Ignoring the throbbing in his toe, he crossed the room to where Hedwig had started to doze off. He ran his hand across her feathers and she blinked her large yellow eyes open.
Harry knew it was wrong to ask, to refuse his dæmon any reprieve but he couldn't go on without her.
"Find Lyra."
Hedwig hooted sleepily but she dutifully stretched her wings and hopped off her perch before soaring through the open window.