Feathers and Fur

Authors Notes- This story is done. It runs about 20 chapters. I'll post twice a week. That seems like a fast pace to read but I've run several character threads at the same time. They won't make sense if you forgot what happened in earlier chapters. This story is an outgrowth of a story I will have to take down called "Games Wizards Play". SiS

HPHPHP

June, 1994

A wizard has to know his limitations. Sirius Black heard that phrase countless times when he was in the Auror's Academy. It was one of Alastor Moody's favorite sayings. At this moment, Sirius felt his limitations in every inch of skin and bone. He was grateful for Harry's help. Without it, the escaping duo of man and Hippogriff would never have dropped from the west tower at Hogwarts and flown into the night. Sirius had been one of the Marauders, a quartet of accomplished pranksters. Even with that history of adventure and risk, last night's escape had been far too exciting.

Sirius and Buckbeak had made it a few hours into the night with their feathers and skin intact. That looked to be true from a distance. Fantasy held that the night air was soft and warm, particularly at the height of summer. The truth was that rain drops stung like needles at the speeds the Hippogriff flew. Ask anyone who has ridden a motorcycle. They will tell you that rain hurts. It stings. It cuts. The threadbare prison uniform that Sirius wore was never a substitute for riding leathers and a full-face helmet. Pity that Hippogriffs didn't come with an optional windscreen. Whatever he was years ago, Sirius Blach had reached his limits this night.

Buckbeak wanted to use the natural updrafts of rising air to fly faster and farther. Unfortunately for Sirius, that same rising air often came with a rain cloud at its head. The Hippogriff had been chained to the ground. Now flying along at the cloud tops, he was again in his natural environment. Of course, the magical creature noticed the rain and wind the same way a wizard might notice a light frost on the cobbles. Sirius was aware of every drop while Buckbeak barely noticed. Sirius was tossed and pelted by things in the dark he couldn't see. It would take a few weeks for the wizard's skin to heal from the scouring. It was also cold up in the clouds.

The flight had been a tussle. Buckbeak wanted to head southwest towards Ireland. Sirius wanted to head south and eventually land at an estate his parents had owned. The two fugitives compromised as they zigzagged their way around rain showers in the night. They were making up their plans as they went along.

It had been well after midnight when the fugitives leapt into the darkness. The Summer Solstice was only a few weeks away and twilight started early in northern Scottland. Sirius didn't have a wand so there were no second chances if someone saw them. It felt like they had been flying for several hours but it could have been 90-minutes. Buckbeak had the acute magical senses that were necessary to land in the dark. Sirius thought he'd die of fright if they tried landing near a forest. He was wet, cold, tired, and nearly blind from the wind and rain. He buried himself into Buckbeak's feathers and held on. He opened his eyes every few minutes and looked for dawn. One time he was unlucky and he received a face full of rain drops. The full moon was now playing hide-and-seek behind layers of cloud. The same full moon that he hated a few hours ago was now a thin lifeline that might keep them alive.

It seemed that Sirius's life had been ruled by matters of time and timing. Sirius had arrived too late to protect James and Lilly Potter. He'd arrived just in time to be stunned and then blown up by Peter Pettigrew. Today, the moon came out at exactly the wrong moment to capture Peter and keep the children safe from Remus Lupin. Now, Sirius and Buckbeak needed a few minutes of moonlight so they could find a place to land before the sun came up. Sirius saw occasional motorways and lighted car parks below them as the wind roared in his ears. Those would hardly do as a place to land.

Sirius frightened himself a few times as he almost slipped into sleep. His hands had gone numb from cold and now felt strangely warm under Buckbeak's feathers. Letting go of the Hippogriff in flight would be a death sentence. Even though his life was thrown away when he was transported to Azkaban, Sirus Black now felt clear preferences about how he died. He was still awake and alert enough to feel fear. Falling to his death half asleep was not how he wanted to go. Sunrise was hours away, but ready or not they had to go to ground.

He checked again and could just make out the difference between forest and field in the early light. He leaned forward. Buckbeak was sensitive to his rider's position and perhaps to Sirius's uncontrollable shivering as well. An unexpected blessing was that the air grew steadily warmer as they descended towards the ground. He was relieved when Buckbeak slipped between two tall trees and landed in a long clearing. The closest lights he'd seen were on the other side of a ridge.

Sirius Black slid to the ground and transformed into his Animagus form. The hound's fur was considerably warmer than wet human skin. The Irish Wolfhound shook and shivered. He stretched his long legs and then sniffed his way over to a nearby tree. After he marked his territory, the hound casually loped over to a nearby thicket of grass. The tall hound turned in a circle a few times and was curled asleep before the Hippogriff made its way into the woods to hunt.

The field and thicket were alive. Buckbeak hunted the rabbits and hares who foraged at the thicket's edge. The Hippogriff moved toward the oak trees and found a sounder of wild boars who were eating old acorns and new shoots. Buckbeak enjoyed wild boar. Two of them, to be precise. The satisfied Hippogriff walked down to a stream to drink. He avoided a skunk on his way back to the sleeping hound. Buckbeak's eyes were closed before the sun cleared the trees.

The hound woke once during the afternoon to drink. The Hippogriff had made a good choice of resting place and was lying in mixed shade and sun. The hound returned and found some tall grass nearby. By unstated plan, they slept until dusk.

Both man and beast had hunted these lands for thousands of years. The Hippogriff was equipped with magical senses and very real claws to tear animals from their nocturnal burrows. In contrast, the wizard was unprepared. He needed tools and the intensive knowledge of how to use them. Sirius Black didn't even have a wand. On the other paw, the wolfhound was in his element.

The mild breeze dropped to a whisper as the sun fell and the day cooled off. The hound's nose caught the scents that now clung close to the ground. His keen ears heard the high-pitched sounds among the tufts of grass. Padfoot pounced on voles, mice, and rats, though he failed more often than not. He also poked himself in the nose with a twig that was entwined in the thatch. He hunted the tree line for the squirrels who fed there. The rabbits and hares were in the field or hunched in the taller patches of grass. The hound had not had a chance to run like this in months. He was out of practice, but lifetimes of necessity gave him the instincts and cunning he needed. Padfoot was indifferent to a grass snake that was silently going about its business.

When darkness fully settled, they would fly.
HPHPHP

Author's Notes- Feedback is appreciated. Feedback is essential if you want more stories like this. What do you think of Buckbeak and this man/hound Sirius?
The next chapter is longer. More in a few days. SiS