The Gryffindor Way

The sound of a horn woke me from a rather pleasant dream of riding with Canute in a field of purple flowers. It left my lower stomach tingling and I groaned in annoyance as the delightful haze was pulled harshly away with each passing moment of awakening. Rolling onto my side, I scrubbed my hand across my face and shivered from a chill breeze that caressed my bare arms. Pulling the blanket higher, I ignored Severus' irritated grumblings as I displaced him, and he was forced to relocate from my stomach to my hip and tried to find the bliss of slumber once more.

He had been different than usual, quieter and less prone to leave me alone. Even weeks later he was still hedging around the incident with Canute. The other boy was still more than willing to hang out, and he still rode with me when Alfhild couldn't. It frustrated me to no end that the Magnar wouldn't allow me to leave the village unattended, but I tried to make the best of it.

Canute had volunteered after Alfhild and Aslaug both declared to be too busy and I had greatly enjoyed his company. But he was more cautious now…especially since Severus refused to leave me alone when I was away from the village.

Canute was still fun to be around, but it felt more like our interactions were being chaperoned with Severus hovering nearby. The once man refused to speak of what had caused him to go nearly feral and take a chunk out of Canute's wrist, but he no longer shrieked at the poor boy every time we were together. He still glared, but his grumblings were kept to a minimum.

It didn't help that Canute always had one eye on the white dragon whenever we rode out the upper valley. Alfhild and Aslaug thought the whole recounting was one of the funniest things they had ever heard and had hounded Canute until he showed them the scar. Loboda was less than amused, because of course he was. The lecture that followed about me using my magic in front of others was scarily similar to Professor McGonagall's about spell casting in the halls.

It left me both properly chastised and utterly homesick.

That night I had cried myself to sleep for the first time in a long time. Severus didn't say anything, not even when I crushed him in my arms to sniffle quietly into his hide. The next morning, Loboda had been overly courteous, going out of his way to be kind and helpful. It wasn't until much later that I realized he was under the impression that he had caused me to cry.

While I had come a long way in speaking and understanding their language, I didn't have all the necessary words to explain what had caused my sorrow. I did try though, stuttering around sentences that were heavy with my English words, and though he still seemed vaguely confused, Loboda did understand that he wasn't at fault. It didn't stop him from hovering for the next few days though. Not that I minded…much.

I enjoyed Loboda's company. The elder man was both incredibly wise and yet still very naïve. When it came to my magic, he was both wary and utterly fascinated. Like a child drawn to a flame. They knew that to touch the fire would burn, but they were still enthralled by the beauty and power of it.

Elder Einar was perhaps the only other I had shown my magic too willingly – the exception being Canute of course – and though he was the Keeper of Story, he still seemed very knowledgeable about the magics that ran deep in the lands they lived in. Elder Ake was technically the Keeper of Magic, but both Loboda and Einar cautioned me away from the man. After meeting him, I could see why.

He appeared both old and young. Like most of the Thenns, the harsh lands aged him beyond his years, but the cold preserved him just as well. His back was hunched just slightly to the left and he walked with an odd gait that spoke of old wounds. When he clasped my arm with his hand – as was their way in greeting because apparently handshakes were not a thing here – his grip was dry, cold, and lasted far too long. The way he looked at me reminded me of Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart. It made my skin crawl and I swore to both Loboda and Severus to never let Ake convince me to go anywhere or do anything for him.

It was difficult, relearning how to let others make decisions for me. Before Hogwarts, there had been Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, dictating my life like one would a servant. Then there had been Headmaster Dumbledore and all of the Professors telling me to do this, don't go there, finish these, don't touch that, and on and on. After the tournament – well, the first task at least – there had been no one to tell me I had to do anything.

Severus does not count.

He had no real authority over me, not anymore. I found myself mostly obeying him simply because it was easier than arguing and usually, he was right…sometimes. But I didn't have to obey him, I chose too. Like I chose to obey Loboda, which granted, was less of a choice I made and more of one that was thrusted upon me.

The point was, that I had gotten used to my independence, and it stung when I had to bite my tongue and let these people tell me what I was allowed to do and where I was allowed to go. And where I was allowed to go consisted only of the village and the upper valley. At first, I hadn't really noticed, to enthralled by the fact that I was around people. I didn't understand how much I could miss just seeing actual people until I had been almost completely isolated.

By the time I had realized that I had been gently eased into a cage with promises of safety and companionship, it was too late. I tied my own hands and put a collar around my own throat. The restrictions chafed, but I forced myself to deal with it, to endure it. This was no different than the leash my family held every summer, no different than the mask I was forced to wear every school year.

I was just a kid, but the wizarding world saw me as some sort of savior. The Girl-Who-Lived…more like The Freak-Who-Wouldn't-Die.

So, I smiled as camera flashes blinded me whenever I went to Diagon Alley, I fought the grimace every time someone asked me for an autograph, and I bit my tongue whenever a schoolmate – and occasional teacher who shall not be named – shoved my unwanted fame into my face.

This, living with the Thenns, learning their language and obeying their laws…this was just another mask I had been forced to wear. It almost made me miss our cave in the middle of nowhere…almost.

I shifted again, grabbing the grumbling Severus and pulling him from my hip to hug him to my chest as I tried to banish my melancholy thoughts. He tolerated the treatment as a cat would – one that was too tired and warm to put of much of fuss – but still made a token attempt for appearance sake.

Ophelia pressed herself more tightly against my back and I was almost asleep once more when the horn sounded again. "Make it stop," I mumbled, as I blinked my blurry eyes open and glanced around the cabin. The hearth was burning low…too low. Loboda never let the fire go out, he was very particular about it and had lectured me more than once on the dangers of freezing to death in my sleep.

Not that I actually could with my magic actively working to keeping me warm. It turns out that when you cast a heating spell day in and day out, you tend to do it in your sleep as well.

Fingers curling around the thick pelt, I eased it down slowly, freeing one arm and tapping against Severus' hide lightly until he awoke. "What is it?" He hissed in irritation, blinking his glowing eyes open and baring his tiny teeth at me.

"Somethings wrong," I whispered, sitting up carefully and trying to be as quiet as possible. The cabin was dark, but that wasn't unusual at this time of night. What was unusual was the silence. Loboda snored, loudly…and yet there was only silence when I strained my ears.

As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around, I finally noticed why I was so cold. "Sev," I whispered urgently as I reached behind me to awaken Ophelia. "Sev, the door is open!"

The front door was cracked open, a cold draft leaking through and if I strained my ears, I could hear some sort of commotion coming from outside. "Get dressed, quickly," Severus' fins were erect and twitching as I forced myself from the bed, cast a quick heating charm, and started to quickly pull on my clothes.

Ophelia was blinking at us curiously, her head swaying back and forth before she started to pull herself from the blankets. She didn't like being in the village but liked it far less when her siblings went for their long hunting trips and left her alone. For the last three days, she had been sulking by the walls, only to turn up late into the night to crawl into my bed.

She was much too big for it – they all were now – but somehow, she was able to wedge herself just so between myself and the wall, so she was comfortable, and I wasn't falling out of the bed. The smaller dragon's unease started to transfer to her and soon Ophelia's lips were peeled back in a silent snarl, sharp teeth gleaming in the darkness, as I struggled to pull my boots on without falling over.

"Grab the sword," Severus added as I reached for the black robes and pulled them on. The loose fabric could impede my mobility, but the protection spells woven into the threads far outweighed any disadvantageous it could cause during a fight. I felt his familiar and comforting weight settle onto my shoulder as I strapped the sword of Gryffindor to my waist. "And tie your hair back."

My face twisted in annoyance, but with I flick of the black wand I did as he told. I knew he only told me to do so in order to keep it out of my way and from blocking my vision, but the Thenns cultural necessity to have it braided in public was downright annoying. And despite the fact that I always tried to be as minimalistic with the plaiting as possible, I also found myself irritated that instinctively my magic had braided it in the exact way Loboda preferred.

My scalp was left tingling from the tight small braids along the sides. I knew without looking that the upper braids were twisted together into a loose and wavy ponytail that cascaded down my back with the rest of my unplaited hair, while the lower ones hung free. My hair really was getting too long, and I tried not to think about how much time had had to pass for it to have grown so much, and instead I pulled the door open fully and stepped outside into what looked like a blizzard.

Snow was falling heavily from the sky and stung my exposed face as the wind blew hard enough to nearly tear Severus from my shoulder. He hunched closer, pressing his warm and thrumming body against the loose folds of white hide around my neck. I could feel his tail wrap around my bicep and Ophelia's thumb claw gripping my trousers as she shuffled out behind us.

Her nose bumped my hand, and I found my fingers scratching lightly around her horns as we took in the frantic actions of the villagers around us.

People were rushing back and forth, shouting loudly and carrying torches that spluttered in the wind and looked moments away from extinguishing. A bonfire was burning in the village center and braziers were being fed more wood as the fire burned weakly within. An elderly woman, hair grey and long, twisted high into a single braid, was directing people to and from the bonfire. She looked frail, her night clothes visible underneath the heavy coat she wore, but the voice she shouted with boomed across the open space with surety and confidence.

Instinctively, my hand reached out and snagged the nearest body that rushed past. A young boy looked back at me, perhaps of age to be a first year if he was to attend Hogwarts, and his eyes were wide with fear. "What is happening?" I asked in the Old Tongue, silently proud of how easy the pronunciation now came to me after moons of struggling with it.

"Dead!" He shouted to be heard over the howling wind. "Dead in the valley!"

Before I could ask more, he tore himself from my grip and carried his burning torch to the bonfire. I watched in stunned silence as he threw the torch on the pile and ran off to presumably grab another.

"The Others," Severus hissed so lowly I wouldn't have been able to hear him if his muzzle wasn't pressed against my ear. "The Elders said the bring the storm." We looked around, taking in the panicked villagers, the snow that fell heavily from the sky, the winds that whipped between the buildings, and the fires that died all around us. "The fire won't last."

He was right, of course. Even as we stood there, I could see several braziers splutter their last pitiful attempt to stay lit before dying, ice already creeping over the metal. Aslaug stood next to one, her hands trembling with flint rocks as she tried to relight it again. I rushed over to her side, stumbling over Ophelia as she got in my way, and grabbed the girl's hands between my own. They felt frozen.

"Harielle!" She cried in relief, pulling from my grip to throw her arms around me in a hug. Though Severus was knocked nearly off his perch, he did little more than grumble and curse lowly at the girl.

"Aslaug, where is your sister?" I asked cautiously, using my grip on her arms to push the taller girl away. I discretely cast a warming charm on her, and she smiled briefly at me, aware of what I had done but one of the few in the village that wasn't bothered by it. I believed that having used magic to save her father played a huge part in her acceptance of my magic.

"Alfhild is in the valley, with the rest of the warriors," she replied. Alfhild had been officially promoted to shield maiden and her hair shaved along the sides as was their way. There had been a party that I had only briefly attended, leaving once they put Alfhild on her knees, two men holding her arms to either side as the Seer came out of her cave with her ritual knife, the blade red hot from the fire, and brought it to her face. I had wanted to stop them as I heard her muffled screams, but Severus convinced me to walk away.

It was their way, and to interrupt would not only be ill-advised, but also a huge hurdle in being accepted into their lives and culture. This was another part of their life that I couldn't understand but had to learn to accept.

"Did you here, Harielle? Dead, in the valley!"

"Yes, I heard," nodding my head and ignoring once more the full use of my name. Thenns didn't understand the concept of a nickname. Though I had tried to get Loboda and the others to call me Hari, they seemed confused by the suggestion as it wasn't my name. If I wanted to be called Hari, then I should change my name to Hari.

I only shook my head and pretended not to be annoyed…or amused.

"The fires, we need to keep them burning, but this storm…" Aslaug trailed off, looking down and cautiously sliding her cold hands into my much warmer ones. Her fingertips were calloused, and they scraped against my softer skin.

I looked up at her curiously, cautiously. Ever since the Hare Moon Celebration, where I had drunkenly kissed her, she had been almost…I don't know, coy in our interactions. I got the impression – more than once – that she was interested in pursuing something. She was a pretty girl, of age with me, tall, with freckled cheeks and dark brown hair. Perhaps, in a different life, if we had met at Hogwarts or in Diagon Alley? But here, here I wasn't…I couldn't.

The Seer's words haunted me. She told me I would kill the one I loved most, and when I looked at Aslaug, I realized how easy it would be to love her. She was just so easy to love, and I knew – even as I tightened my grip in hers and gave her a soft smile – that I could never do that to her, or to myself.

"Could you help?" Aslaug asked, smiling back at me even as I pulled my hands away. She was always smiling at me, and it was nearly enough to break my heart every time she did. "With your magics? I'd do it meself, but I can't get the fire to stay lit!"

I looked around once more, pulling myself away from the little pocket universe we were standing in – where we were both just young women with so much possibility between us – and forced myself into the current world where this could never happen.

The villagers were still rushing back and forth, trying desperately to keep the dying flames lit. It was the only way they knew to kill the dead, and it was their only defense should the warriors in the valley fall.

Even as I knew this, knew that without the fire they would all surely die, I hesitated. The villagers didn't like my magic, the Magnar had threatened to have me burned if I ever used it inside of the village, or on one of the Thenns. Canute hadn't ratted me out to any of the elders about what had happened in the upper valley, thank Merlin, but that didn't mean I was still safe. I just couldn't trust that the Magnar wouldn't take this as a sign to have me killed, even if I was using it to help his people.

"You shouldn't," Severus whispered softly to me as I watched another brazier near us sputter out and die. "It isn't safe." I knew that, knew that the Magnar would only use this against. And yet…I was done letting them tell me what I could and couldn't do. "But you are going to anyways," Severus sighed the words as if in defeat, shaking his small head as if to cast aside the thoughts that were no doubt running rampant in his mind. "Just like you always do."

"Fuck it," I mumbled back to him in English, snapping my wrist to call forth the black wand that had once been his. "When have I ever done what I was told?"

"That is not something to be proud of!" He hissed even as I flicked my wand and the inside of the brazier Aslaug had been trying to light burst into blue flames. The fire consumed nothing, and yet it burned large and bright, casting off enough heat I could see the snow around the base beginning to melt.

"Let's go be big fucking heroes!" I replied still in English, my tongue surprisingly clumsy with the words. It had been a while since I had spoken anything but the Old Tongue. With a small laugh I moved towards the bonfire, flicking my wand and lighting every brazier that we passed.

"Bloody Gryffindors!" Severus lamented as we reached the bonfire, Ophelia toddling after us like a lost duckling. She seemed more confused by the activity than startled.

The older woman watched our approach with narrowed eyes, snapping her fingers as if to summon a dog as we halted near the bonfire. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but approached her, nonetheless. If she told me to heel, however, I could not guarantee her safety.

"You, girl!" She shouted, her voice echoing across the gathering area though I was standing less than a few feet away at most. "You are witch, yes? Make this fire bigger!"

"Yes, ma'am," I grumbled, turning away to look at the bonfire that was still struggling. "What do you think?" I asked Severus, fingering the black wand as I tried to think of a fire spell that would last despite the cold dead magic that tried to smother it, and could be used on arrows and other weapons to fight off the dead.

"Gubraithian Fire might work," Severus had to speak loudly to be heard over the howling winds, the frantic shouting of the villagers, and the old woman who was still bellowing commands. "It is an everlasting fire spell, but casting it would take a far greater wizard than I. I've seen Albus cast it, but only the once."

"Albus?" I blinked at him. "You call the Headmaster, Albus?"

"What else would I call him? That is his name," Severus remarked dryly, snorting hot air against my cheek. "Focus, girl. Bluebell flames don't need fuel, but the fire is much to weak to last against this weather, incendio would keep the fire burning, but only if there is something to feed it. Once the wood is gone, the fire will die, and we cannot trust that this storm won't smother it. We need something much stronger."

"What then? Conflagration?"

"No, still to weak. Think bigger!" Severus rumbled, turning to me. He cocked his head to the side, and I watched as the nictitating membranes slid across his eyes before disappearing into the corners once more. Suddenly, I realized exactly what he was doing.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

"Is now really the time to make this into a lesson?!" I hissed as Ophelia settled on the ground with her tail flopping almost lazily over my boots.

"Yes, now is the perfect time! You seem to think better when there are actual stakes on the line. Well, think!" Severus flicked his own tail in irritation before wrapping it around my bicep.

"Ugh, fine," I caved after only a moments hesitation. It was much faster to just give and let him use this as a teaching moment than it would have been to argue about it. Besides, he might slip and actually teach me something fun. It didn't happen often, but I treasured the times when it did. Like the time he accidentally taught me the incantation to bring statues to life.

I haven't had the chance to cast it yet – especially since I doubted the Magnar would be a huge fan of me bringing their god statues to life – but it was definitely one I was going to keep up my sleeve if I ever needed to make a quick getaway.

"What about incendio tria? Or maybe something like fiendfyre?" I ventured hesitantly, twirling the wand between my fingers in the way that I knew Snape absolutely hated.

"No, both are too uncontrolled for one. And how do you know about fiendfyre? That is a high-level dark curse! You shouldn't even know about it," he was hissing again, the fins along his back quivering with each word.

"I don't know, in a book, I think. I remember reading something about it while researching dragons and how to counteract fire spells," I replied with a soft huff.

His eyes narrowed as his fins became very still. "And what book would this have been in?" Severus asked the question as if he already knew the answer. He asked the question as if trying to lead me into a trap…but what sort of trap, I couldn't see.

I shrugged lightly, just enough so he got my meaning, but not enough to dislodge him. "I don't remember. Hermione and I went through a lot of books before the first task."

Severus bobbed his head in a nod, his lips peeling back in the facsimile of that smirk I was used to seeing on his human face. The one he gave me right before he took points a slapped me with another detention. "Did any of those books happen to be from the restricted section?" He asked, almost casually with how calm and smooth his tone seemed to be.

My eyes widened and I fought the sudden urge to flinch or flush, or whatever the hell it was that my body wanted to do as I tried to school my features into something that resembled vague confusion and not hopelessly guilty. "N-no…no, of course not," I could tell by his irritated snort that I hadn't been as successful as I had hoped. "Shouldn't we be doing something about this fire," I deflected, trying to pull his attention back to the matter at hand.

In all honesty, I had completely forgotten that Hermione and I had used my father's invisibility cloak to sneak into the restricted section after hours to see if there was something else that could help me with the first task. And I knew that if I told Snape that, I would be in a world of hurt when we got back…if we got back.

"Of course," he capitulated. "But don't think we will not be revisiting this discussion at a later date."

Ugh, just what I needed. Another reason for us to argue. It wasn't like we didn't already have plenty of artillery to use against one another. I straightened, an awful, terrible, absolutely no good idea forming in the back of my mind. I really shouldn't, it could possibly only build a rift between us…but I refused to be the only one held accountable for my actions. He had to be held accountable for his as well.

"Certainly, Sev," I yielded with a cheerfulness that immediately put him on edge. "Just as soon as we talk about that thing that happened with Canute."

He was glaring at me now, his tail releasing my bicep to snap and sway behind me in harsh flicks that were caused, no doubt, by his irritation. His nostrils were flaring, fins erect and quivering, and a low rumbling growl emanating from his chest, but after a moment he resettled and turned back to the fire.

"Well, we don't have all day," he snapped, and I had to fight the smirk that wanted to creep into my smile. Looks like this round went to me.

I returned my attention to the bonfire that the villagers were still feeding and thought about the problem. All of the fire spells I knew were too weak and after a moment I admitted that too him. "I'm working off of four years of schooling," I grumbled at his smug appearance. "How about you contribute, Professor!"

"You could just capture my fire," Severus rumbled with a small haughty chuckle and I wanted to slap myself for forgetting about that option. I had become proficient in capturing dragon flames while out in the wilderness with nothing but Severus and the whelps, and I knew from my research that dragon fire was very difficult to smother.

"I'm an idiot," I mumbled with a sigh as I readied my wand.

"Yes, you are. But we already knew that."

"Severus," I huffed, turning to look at him from the corner of my eye. "Shut the fuck up and breathe the damn flames."

The small dragon's body trembled as he squeaked with laughter and the grip I had on the wand tightened as I closed my eyes and told myself over and over again not to shove him off. It was a good thing he was never one for amusements as after a moment he was back to being completely collected if not his conceited and arrogant self.

"I am ready when you are," he rumbled, his tone still colored in laughter. I ignored it and brought my wand up.

Severus turned his head up to the sky, took a deep breath, and then exhaled flames so hot that even I was fighting not to recoil from it. The first foot of flames was invisible to my eyes before the stream turned a brilliant shade of violet to blue. Once the end started to turn white, I cast my spell to capture it.

Being careful to aim my wand at the end of the streak of flame, I wove the spell carefully and arrested the bluish white fire into a ball as Severus ended his breath, his little chest huffing as he shook himself like a wet dog. Around us, people were gathering in interest – a few mumbling in fear – but I dare not look at them while I still held the flames. Dragon fire was dangerous, Severus' even more so. I wasn't skilled enough to capture the whole flame and I knew if I had tried while it was still at its hottest, knowing my luck, I could have caused it to explode.

"Careful, careful," Severus whispered into my ear as I lowered the captured spell into the bonfire. The flames alighted upon the wood, keeping their color and heat as my containment spell held. "Now cast the stasis-holding spell and release."

"Stop back seat driving my spell work," I hissed in annoyance. This wasn't the first time I had done this, and I was more than a little insulted that Severus felt the need to coach me through something I already knew how to do. I really shouldn't have been surprised. The guy loved to micromanage everything.

"I have no idea what that means," he replied with a sharp tone that indicated that though he was unaware of the term, he knew he was being insulted.

"It means, leave me alone and let me do this," I grumbled back, gritting my teeth as the dragon fire fought against my control. With another flick of the wand and an extra boost of power, the containment spell snapped fully in place around the bonfire and the blue-white flames roared to life.

"There," I swiped a hand across my sweating brow and turned back to the old woman who had finally gone quiet. Dozens of eyes were on us and I felt my face flush not only from the sudden heat. "There you go," I told the old woman, gesturing back to the bonfire. She continued to say nothing, and I had to stop and make certain I was speaking the correct language. I didn't want to instruct her on the fire in English on accident.

"Dragon flames…just keep feeding it and it will keep burning. I have contained it to this area, but you can use it to light arrows or spears, or whatever," I finished with a soft mumble as she just continued to stare at me. "Right…I will just," I gestured vaguely behind me before beating a hasty retreat.

I left the open gathering area, not even blinking when people parted for me just like they did at Hogwarts after I did something truly amazing and reckless. This was not something I had missed. It got colder the further I walked from the fire and I pulled the loose neck of the serpent hide up my neck as the cold stung my cheeks. Aslaug grabbed my arm before I got too far, startling me out of the mood I had fallen into.

"Thank you," she whispered, pulling me into another hug that I was more than happy to return. She held me like I was something special, not a freak like everyone else seemed to think, and I felt tears building in my eyes.

"You are welcome," I mumbled into her shoulder, trying to discreetly rub my eyes as she pulled away. "I hope this helps."

"It will," she replied, smiling at me. Her pale hand reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her thumb stroking my cheek, and I felt my face flush once more at the action. Surprisingly, Severus gave no grumbling complaints at the motion, even though he had protested it violently when Canute had done the exact same thing just a few weeks ago.

A heavy weight collided with the back of my legs and I stumbled into Aslaug, her hands grabbing my arms to keep me upright as she laughed brightly. Behind me, Ophelia shoved against me once more and chirruped a question I couldn't make out. Straightening, I reluctantly pulled myself from the girl's grip, reminding myself vehemently that nothing could happen between us, and turned to the black and silver dragon.

"What?" I asked her in my own language, the words seeming almost clumsy for how little I spoke it these days.

"She is asking about her siblings," Severus replied and suddenly I was frowning. Where were the whelps?

"Do you know where they were hunting last?" I asked Severus, crouching down to scratch my nails around the base of Ophelia's horns. She huffed, but I could hear the barely there rumble of delight she was trying to smother.

Ophelia wasn't much for petting, but her horns had been growing out lately and it left her with an itchy sensation that she couldn't seem to quell. It was kind of cute, in an odd sort of way, but she somehow made it seem like she was doing me the favor when I was the once rubbing out her sore crippled wing or scratching her molting scales.

Severus had turned his head up to the sky, his eyes blinking, and head tilted. "Last I recall, I thought I saw their flight trail going towards the valley."

"The upper valley?" I asked carefully…hopefully. The upper east valley was far away from where Aslaug said the dead had been reported.

"No, the lower valley."

I felt my heart drop into my stomach and a sudden rush of nausea hit me. "Aslaug, where exactly were the dead seen?" I asked, switching back to the Old Tongue. My hands were shaking as I stood and faced her. The girl's freckled face was frowning at me, her eyes pinched and lips pressed as she reached for me.

I stepped out of her reach and fought the guilt and shame that crawled into my chest as frowned further, eyes going soft and a little wet. "Please, where did you say they are. I need to know, the…" I couldn't think of the word for whelp in her language, and instead gestured to Ophelia who was back to people watching as everyone started to gather weapons. "They could be in danger."

"The lower valley," she replied after a moment, the words sounding like they were being pulled from her reluctantly. "Near the God Tree by the Weeping Lake. But Harielle, you can't, you mustn't –"

"Thank you," I replied, grabbing her flailing hands between mine in a tight grip. "Thank you, but I have to go."

"You mustn't," she whispered back, tears in her eyes. "The Magnar has forbidden you to leave! You're not allowed in the lower valley!"

"I know," I replied, pulling my hands away from her suddenly tight and harsh grip. Her nails dug into my palms and I fought not to wince as I finally extracted myself from her. "But I must."

She nodded her head once, bowing it so I couldn't see her tears as I turned and made my way to the stables. Chudley wasn't exactly the fastest of horses…or a fast horse in general, but he would get me to the lower valley much faster than if I were to go on foot.

"He'll kill you for this," her words stopped me, and I turned to look at her. She was crying, wringing her hands together and her pink lips trembling. "Even if you are trying to help, he'll kill you for leaving."

"He can try," I replied, making an attempt to give her a reassuring smile that I'm certain came out more as a grimace. It didn't comfort either of us.

When I turned back to the stables, I nearly stumbled over Ophelia once more. She really did love to be underfoot…and that could be dangerous, especially if I was going into battle like I suspected I would be.

Kneeling in the wet snow, I grabbed the black dragon's chin and forced her to look at me. "Ophelia, I need you to stay here," I told her firmly in English, watching her silver eyes narrow as she worked through the words. She never did like being told what to do and liked it even less when she was left behind.

Now that I think about it, that sounded remarkably like me. Perhaps she could be just as easily distracted as well. It was worth a shot, at any case.

"See her?" I asked, shortening my sentences so she understood as I pointed to Aslaug who was still watching me with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "Protect her. Protect village. Protect humans. You do this. I need you to do this."

I repeated it several times, until her head finally cocked to the side and she blinked at me slowly. "Protect," she chirped, and I smiled at her.

"Yes, protect. I be back soon, find brothers and sisters."

"You find, I protect!" Ophelia chirruped again, her chest puffing out and head held high. Kneeling on the ground as I was, her head reached higher than mine. They really were beginning to get big.

"Yes, burn dead," I paused again, trying to think on how Severus described what he had sensed back when we were attacked after first meeting the Thenns. "Burn the cold smelling ones. I be back soon."

"Burn cold ones! Protect!"

I laughed lightly as I gave her one more scratch behind the horns and rose. I didn't look back at Aslaug as I made my way to the stables, to afraid that I would want to stay and protect her more than I wanted to find the hunting whelps. I was nearly to the doors when I realized we were being followed. Fighting against the sigh as I saw Ophelia out of the corner of my eye, I turned back to the dragon.

"Ophelia, where are you going?" I asked carefully, blocking her path to the stables where I could hear the horses snorting and whinnying in fear. No doubt they caught Ophelia's scent.

"Protect!" She exclaimed and I flinched at the hot breath hitting my neck as Severus snorted loudly.

"I think she means to protect you," he commented dryly, and I groaned in annoyance. Learning to communicate with dragons was not as easy as I was led to believe.

"No, Ophelia protect here," I pointed to the ground and did my best to ignore Severus' amusement. "Ophelia stay, protect here."

"Protect!" She exclaimed again, toddling closer.

Groaning, I approached and bodily turned her around, shoving her muzzle away when she went to snap at my hands. "Look!" I clicked my fingers in front of her face and pointed back towards the bonfire where people were gathering. "Protect them!"

Her head swiveled back towards me, the silver speckles catching the light of the nearby brazier and sparkling in the near dark. "Protect?" She asked, her tone heavy with a confused warble.

"Yes, stay here. This…" I searched for a word that she would understand. "This is nest," I settled finally, ignoring another snort from Severus that was almost right into my ear. I twitched and swatted at him but kept most of my attention on the black dragon. "Stay, protect nest. Burn cold ones."

"Protect!" Ophelia chirruped before waddling off in her surprisingly fast but unsteady gait. I stood there a moment longer to make certain she was heading back towards the bonfire before I rushed into the stables.

The horses that were left were kicking at the stalls and throwing their heads back, no doubt sensing the danger that was about to come…or once again put off by the dragons – who could tell with horses – and I rushed to the back where Chudley was sleeping. Pulling the saddle down from the wall, I stumbled into Chudley's stall and started get him ready. I was nearly done with the saddle before Chudley finally woke up.

He blinked his big dark brown eyes at me lazily, chomping his lips and obliging me as I pulled the bridle over his head. The Thenns didn't use bits like I had seen for most horses, the metal too dangerous to have in their mouth when it was this cold outside. But that didn't seem to affect their performance as far as I was aware…though I did have to tug quite a lot to keep Chudley from grazing while we were riding.

Tightening the saddle strap once more, I pulled myself up and tugged Severus from his perch to place him in my hood. He would be more comfortable there anyways. I knew how much he hated to ride.

I rode out of the stables and glanced up just in time to see Ophelia shoving the door to Loboda's cabin open and going inside. "What the hell?" I mumbled, ignoring Severus indignation as he shoved my hair aside so he could peak out of the hood and over my shoulder.

"You did tell her to protect the nest," he replied with derision.

I sighed, shaking my head before urging Chudley forward. I didn't have time to argue or explain the concept to Ophelia anymore, and if this was what it took to keep her in the village and out of the way, then so be it. I just hoped she didn't burn down Loboda's cabin while we were gone. Our stuff was still in there, including the sled we had dragged hundreds of miles from the cave.

Despite Chudley's slow demeaner, he did in fact know how to move at a fast clip when he needed too. And today, I needed him too. In moments the village was being swallowed behind the trees as I rode Chudley down the well-worn road towards the lower valley. I didn't know exactly where this God Tree was, as Loboda had informed me that there was more than one, but Severus knew where the lake was and that was enough for me.

He had spoken of a river that flowed slowly, feeding a lake deep in the valley. The water ran around a massive oblong rock in a lazy mockery of a waterfall, and in a certain light, he had said it looked like a person crying.

"Alright Severus, which way?"