Nothing is mine.

Harry picks some flowers (not roses, don't worry)

The Magic Far-Away Tree

Katie skipped over the pebbles, scattering small white stones across the little beach with her bare heels; the skirt of her dark blue dress bouncing around her knees. 'Bonjour, Monsieur Raven! If you're here this time.' She waved her cupped hands in the air and stared up at the branches of the willow. 'I got you more cherries again, look!'

I'm sorry, little chick. Harry ducked behind a clump of wilting daffodils, peering through two green stems and a cluster of hanging yellow flowers. I can't. Once was already once too often.

His daughter lowered the bowl and sat down cross-legged in the grass beneath the willow sapling. 'I hope you're being a happy bird wherever you went,' she whispered. 'But I was hoping you'd come back and be my friend too.'

I wish I could, little chick. The yearning tugged at him, a hot little whisper swirling in his chest. But if Fleur realises I'm alive, she won't feel safe and the two of you won't get to be happy.

Katie plucked the little stems from the cherries and tossed them into the river one after the other with. 'I guess you just disappeared off with all the other happy birds.'

Harry's heart sank. No, baby bird. I'm here. As always. The yearning twisted like a knife in his chest. You can't. You can't do it. If she ever mentions a raven to Fleur, that's it, it's all ruined.

His daughter's lip trembled and she wrapped her arms around her knees.

Merde.

He turned away and hopped down the bank, fluttering above the rippling river and up onto the far bank beside a patch of daisies. Grabbing a beakful of stem, he wrestled one of the white flowers free.

One more time.

Harry took wing, climbing into the sky and swooping down to land upon Katie's shoulder; he dropped the daisy into her lap with a soft croak.

A brilliant smile burst across her face. 'Monsieur Raven!'

He tugged at the bright green ribbon at the end of her slim silver braid with his beak.

'Ow.' His daughter giggled. 'No. Don't pull that, silly bird. That's part of me.' She waggled the bowl of cherries under his nose. 'Look, I brought you more of these.'

Harry hopped up onto the edge of the bowl, fluttering his wings to balance, and poked his beak in to prod at the cherries. Real food. He lay waste to the small dark red fruits, ripping them apart with his beak and gobbling them down.

'I thought you'd gone back to be with all your raven friends,' she whispered. 'I'm glad you came back to be my friend too.'

He tossed his head back and gulped down the last piece of cherry.

'All gone already?' Katie giggled. 'You're going to get fat.'

Not likely. A croak of laughter escaped his beak. Not on small fish and whatever else I find that's probably not poisonous.

She ran her fingers through the feathers on his head and down his back, sending little shivers through him. 'If you're going to be my friend, I should give you a name.' His daughter beamed, wiggling her loose tooth back and forth with the tip of her tongue. 'I know just the one! You can be Henri. Henri the Raven.'

Wry bitter humour coaxed a quiet caw from Harry as he leapt from the bowl and perched himself on Katie's knee. Call me whatever you want, little chick; it doesn't matter so long as you're happy.

Katie poked the stem of the daisy through her slim braid, tucking the white flower into the first weave. 'I need more!' She counted the knots in her braid. 'Seven more. Let's go find some more daisies, Henri.' His daughter scooped him up in both hands and sat him down on her shoulder. 'You can sit there, like a witch's familiar, or fly with me. But not on my hair.'

Harry hopped atop her head and poked her on the crown with his beak, tugging at her long bright silver hair with his toes as it shone and fluttered beneath him like a nest of silver silk thread.

'Bad bird!' Katie laughed and bounced through the daffodils on the riverbank, gazing across the water at the swathe of long grass and wildflowers. 'Are there any daisies on this side? I can't see any.'

Je t'aime, mon petit ange. He clung on as she skipped forward. Je t'aime.

'There aren't any.' A hint of a pout crept into his daughter's voice. 'They're all on the other side out of reach.' She huffed. 'It's not fair; I'm not allowed to go near any of the pretty flowers. Maman says not to go across the river here because there are no wards there. And I can't go into the glasshouse and see the roses either.'

I guess she has to grow her own roses now. Harry's heart dipped toward the numb darkness beneath. I broke my promise.

'They don't even have thorns,' Katie muttered. 'So I can't hurt myself on them like maman used to say I would when I was small. She just doesn't want me to see her special secret flowers.' Little white feathers bristled along her bare arms as she folded them over her chest. 'She just doesn't want me to see. She doesn't want me to see anything, Henri; she wants to lock me up here and stop me from ever leaving.'

She wants to keep you safe, little chick. You'll understand when you're older.

Katie stomped through the daffodils. 'I won't get to go to Beauxbatons and make any friends. And then I won't learn how to make wonderful things like maman can. And I'll just be stuck here until I'm all old and dead.'

Harry tugged at her hair.

'Pardon, Henri.' She reached up with a tentative hand and patted him on the head, the feathers slipping back beneath her skin. 'I know maman loves me. I can feel it; it's like… like being all snuggled up in a warm soft silk blanket every time she casts a spell. But I'm not a baby, I want to… to go out. There's all the world out there and—' she pointed across the river and up the hill '—and I'm not allowed to see any of it.'

You will, little chick. He gave her a soft croak and a gentle peck on the top of her head. You're still only ten.

Katie let her arm drop, staring across the white pebbles and off into the distance. 'I wish I could meet another girl. Or had a sister. Or even a brother. Or I could somehow meet my godmothers.' Her voice shrank to a whisper. 'I wish I could meet my papa.'

The storm snatched Harry's heart away and dashed it to pieces somewhere deep within. You have, baby bird. You just can't know. He pinned the picture of the raven over the molten bubbling yearning, holding himself within its shape. Things are never perfect; they can only be just perfect enough.

His daughter dropped down onto the riverbank, spilling him into the air.

Harry squawked at her, spreading his wings and drifting down next to her knee.

'Pardon, Monsieur Raven.' A faint smile flashed across Katie's face and her pitch-black irises lightened a few hues. 'How about I teach you to speak!? Ravens can talk. All the stories say so. Aimée gets a raven on her fifteenth birthday and she can talk for most of the first three books, but maman won't let me read the fourth one until I'm older because she says it has too many grown-up kissing bits in it.'

A caw of laughter burst from Harry. Of course she's giving you those books to read. They were her favourites when she was only a bit older than you are now.

'Is that a yes?' His daughter wrapped both hands around him and put him atop her knee. 'Can you say yes?' She scrunched her face up, her green eyes brightening. 'Yes?'

No. Sorry, baby bird. If you tell Fleur about a raven, she'll suspect and worry for a while. But if you tell Fleur about a talking raven, she'll be sure it's me. He tucked his beak under his wing and fluffed all his feathers up. And if she thinks I'm alive, she won't feel safe or be happy anymore; it will all have been for nothing then.

'That's not a yes.' Katie giggled and stroked the top of Harry's head with one finger. 'It's okay, we'll work on it together. Think how amazing it would be if you could talk. Even just a few words.'

He shuffled his feet in the folds of her dress, tugging his talons free of the dark blue threads.

'S'il te plaît,' she pleaded.

A gentle tug came at his heart like a slim red string knotted about his ribs, drawing his gaze to Katie's big green eyes and small pout.

Sneaky little veela hatchling. Harry gave her a quiet croak and leant his head into her hand. Did you mean to throw your magic at me, or are you just starting to find it happens accidentally now? He clawed back through his recollections of Gabby and Fleur. A good thing it's your maman, you have. I wouldn't have any idea what to do to help.

His daughter's lower lip crept out a little further. 'We'll try again tomorrow, Monsieur Raven.' She patted the top of his head with a gentle hand. 'Don't fly away, please. I want you to be my friend.'

I'm never going anywhere, little chick. Harry swallowed the fierce hot yearning of the storm as it swelled, holding himself in the form of the raven. I'll be your friend for as long as you want.

'I have to go back and tidy my room before maman comes and checks again.' Katie lowered her voice. 'But you can't follow me up to the chateaux; maman might try and scare you off.'

She'd probably try and set fire to me. A bitter flash of humour burst from his beak as a harsh caw and his daughter flinched, squeaking with surprise.

'Loud,' she scolded, wagging her finger at him. 'Bad bird.'

Harry hopped off her knee as her weight shifted and took wing, fluttering up into the branches of the willow.

'Bye, Henri!' Katie gave him a small wave and trudged across the white pebbles toward the cherry blossom and the chateaux.

Bye, baby bird.

AN: Self promo! The story is finished for those with early access to my drafts, and the next story, something a bit lighter and more fun, has begun! Also there's Discord and all my other works.

linktr . ee / mjbradley