Chapter Five: Choosing Home
For the kids, Greg chanted to himself, for the kids, as he walked inside the corral. On the opposite side, the gryphon was grooming and preening itself again. As soon as the Sergeant was inside the gate, the gryphon's head came up, eyeing the man with a wary caution. Greg swallowed hard and forced himself to bow, not breaking eye contact.
The gryphon stared at him, tail lashing as a low grumbling growl rose from it. The negotiator held as still as he could, waiting. Finally, the gryphon rose and swept his wings outward, bowing back. Greg blew out, relieved that he'd at least gotten that, but opted not to approach the still skittish animal. He straightened, slow and careful, keeping his hands in view and open. The gryphon studied him, tail lashing, his feathers and fur almost puffed up, his ears laid back.
"Hi there," Greg said softly, quite sure the animal could hear him just fine. "I won't come closer, boy, I'll just wait here for a bit."
The gryphon gave a little grumble, but began to settle as Greg remained where he was.
"I bet you're wondering why all these humans are bothering you," Greg went on, as calm as if it was a negotiation rather than taming a wild animal. He very deliberately didn't think about what would come next. "It's actually a long story, are you interested?" He paused, as if the animal could respond, but, beyond settling back down and beginning to groom, the gryphon did not respond. "Started two years ago," Greg began, shifting to a better position for standing and talking, "Hard to believe it's been that long; they do say time flies when you're having a good time." He smiled wistfully. "Seems like I've known those kids their whole lives now, not just two years…"
Harry stared at the Muggle who was chatting away at the griffin, as if he thought he could talk his way into the animal's affections. The griffin was still grooming, still preening, hardly even giving the talkative man a glance. Harry, though, he was listening, and he could hardly believe his ears at the story that was so similar and yet different from his own.
All but dumped on a Muggle's doorstep, check.
Non-magical relative, check.
Non-magical relative with no real prior knowledge of the magical world, check.
His Aunt Petunia might have known more than Parker had, but her stubborn jealousy insured she knew as little about magic as possible. But where his Aunt and Uncle had taken him with much grudging and little love, Parker seemed to have done the exact opposite. Harry could very well believe that the kids hadn't had a clue about the Muggle world, his best friend Ron hadn't had a clue, still didn't if Harry was being honest.
And what a tale…the Calvins' first interaction with Parker's team was clearly exaggerated; surely the Muggles hadn't taken the news about magic that calmly and logically. Harry's eyes narrowed as he studied Parker, trying to spot whatever trick the Muggle was trying to pull. He knew how Muggles reacted to magic, he'd lived with it for years after all.
Parker moved onto Sam Braddock and the revelations the young Squib-born had brought with him; Harry's heart broke right along with Parker's voice at the idea of a child being thrown out simply because he had no magic of his own. He couldn't fathom it any more than the Muggle could, how could someone do that? To anyone's child, let alone their own. It was wrong, unjust…evil.
The tale of Parker's team proving themselves was clearly another fabrication; there was no way a group of Muggles had taken down an elite team of Aurors without so much as a lick of magic. To Harry's surprise, the griffin was beginning to glance up at the Muggle as Parker talked, still outwardly calm and cool.
Parker's voice broke again as he related the tale of Alanna Calvin's kidnapping, a tale that made Harry bristle in outrage. At the criminal, yes, but also at Parker for letting it happen. Just more proof that the Muggle didn't really care for his two magical charges. Alanna must have freed herself from the kidnapper's clutches.
Harry crossed his arms, wondering how long Silnok was going to let the Muggle stand there and jabber at the griffin. At this rate, they'd be here all day.
Greg decided to count the frequent looks he was getting from the gryphon as a win. His voice was getting a little hoarse; even on the long negotiations he didn't talk as constantly as he was now. But the SRU Sergeant was determined to wait and talk as long as he needed to. He cleared his throat, moving on in his summary of the two best years of his life. "I guess the next big thing, if you will, was the City Hall Sniper." He rolled his eyes a little at the memory. "Or rather, Alanna's stupid, idiotic stunt to protect Sam and Jules."
The gryphon let out a little hiss of protest at Greg's description.
"It was stupid," Greg retorted. "She could have been killed!" He swallowed, wishing for a bit of water. "When Wordy told me what she'd done…that was bad. I was already afraid for Sam and Jules, out in the open with a sniper shooting at them. But with mia nipote out there too…"
A curious cat-like sqwee? came from the gryphon as he regarded the man.
Greg stopped, watching the gryphon for several moments. "Curious about them?" he asked.
Nhaw-uh, the gryphon replied, ruffling his feathers.
Brown eyes blinked in confusion, meeting piercing blue ones. "Curious about me?" Greg tried again.
Uru-sqaaa. Large eagle talons scrapped the ground, sending a bit of dust rising in the air.
Greg shrugged, not sure what the gryphon was trying to communicate, but he changed tactics nonetheless. Well, a little anyway. "Not sure what I'm going to do without them, you know," he said wistfully. "I mean, we'll still have magic-side hot calls, but not having them there at the end of a long day…" he trailed off, choking back sorrow. "I'm really gonna miss them," he admitted, "Even whatever excuses I dream up to see them in England isn't going to help much." It really wasn't; this was like losing his wife and son, only this time, he was completely sober and hadn't done anything wrong. "They gave me something I thought I'd lost forever," he found himself telling the gryphon.
And as the gryphon trilled a response, Greg had to force himself to hold perfectly still; the gryphon was standing less than two meters away, those fierce blue eyes studying him. Greg sucked in air and very slowly, very carefully, extended his left hand to the animal. Other than his hand, he was motionless, waiting. The gryphon drew back, those tufted ears perking up. That massive hooked eagle beak lowered, the animal sniffing at Greg's hand. Then the beak nudged at Greg's hand, the gryphon giving off a tiny squrr as he rubbed his beak against Greg's hand.
Greg stepped forward, watching for any sign that the gryphon was unhappy, and started to pet the gryphon's head and scratch behind the animal's ears. The gryphon squrr-ed, hitting Greg's chest with his head very lightly. Greg, for his part, was content to simply give the animal attention, delaying the next part as long as possible.
"I've got to fly on you, you know," he whispered, keeping his voice as low as he could. "Don't really want to, but anything for my kids."
A questioning squ-ar? rose from the gryphon and he butted Greg with his head again.
Greg managed a soft chuckle at the clear question. "I, um, I'm afraid of flying," he admitted, still soft. "And heights."
Abruptly, the gryphon pulled away, turning and sweeping out one wing, clearly inviting Greg aboard. Behind him, Greg heard Auror Potter's hiss of disbelief. Greg gulped and, with a mental reminder of who he was doing this for, slid onto the animal's back. He grabbed hold of the gryphon's neck as tightly as he dared, burying his face in the feathers and tightening his legs against the gryphon's sides.
With a loud, triumphant cry, the gryphon threw himself skyward, wings going wide and catching the wind. Against his will, Greg looked. The gryphon flapped hard, gaining altitude as he flew out of the corral, circling higher and higher. Greg's already tight grip tightened further as his mount wheeled and caught the wind. They left the corral and the clearing behind as the gryphon danced, flying low over the trees, darting this way and that as he played.
With another cry, the animal turned, slow and steady, though his claws briefly scraped the leaves of a particularly tall tree. The wings gave an enormous flap, pushing them upward once more and they flew back toward the clearing, circling wide around the expanse of plain. As soon as they passed the tree line, the gryphon dropped, flying low over the grass, his front claws brushing the ground as he flew back toward the corral.
Behind the gryphon, his tail feathers flared, along with the wings, slowing them as they reached the corral once more. With far more grace than Greg had expected, the griffin landed, the wings practically stalling as the animal twisted his hind legs forward and touched down. Those proud wings stayed spread until Greg had stumbled off, landing on all fours and trying not to throw up. Then they folded and their owner lowered and turned his head to the SRU Sergeant, a concerned sque-errr? coming from the animal.
Greg panted hard, grateful beyond words that the flight was over and he was safely back on terra firma. An annoyed hiss-growl came from the gryphon and he looked up to see Auror Potter being warned off.
Behind Harry, Silnok looked positively smug, as he looked between Sergeant and gryphon. "Well done, Sergeant Parker," Silnok called, applauding lazily.
Greg groaned, stumbling back to his feet. Dimly, he wondered if Silnok would mind very much if he passed out now, thank you. He leaned forward, hands on his knees. Then, to the astonishment of Auror Potter and the gryphon, the victorious SRU negotiator threw up.
Author note: To my two guest reviewers, I truly do appreciate your reviews, even though I can't PM you back as I try to do with most of my reviewers. I will say that I'll keep your playful suggestions about Greg Parker negotiating with several...magical beings...in mind for the future. As for Sam's father, well, I refuse to say yea or nay: he may reappear at some point, but then again, he may not.