Nothing is mine.

Sadly, this chapter does not feature giant squid-like aliens.

The Arrival

Gentle rain pattered into the grass, sending countless small rings rippling across the surface of the river and spotting on his daughter's short, dark green dress. Katie clutched a huge watering can in both hands, pouring a steady stream of water onto the roots of the slender willow sapling. Strands of her silver hair clung to her cheeks and the slim braid hung from her temple, its damp dark blue ribbon fluttering in the faint breeze as she tipped the last drops out onto the tree.

Silly little chick. Harry peered down at her through the bright green willow leaves, fluffing his feathers up against the rain and ignoring the pangs of hunger gnawing at him. It's getting watered more than enough already. Too much, if it's as wet as I feel.

His daughter patted the willow's slim trunk. 'There you go, tree.' She sat down in the shelter of the branches and tucked her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them. 'All you need is water and you're happy.'

Are you not, baby bird? Harry's heart sank and he clenched his talons about the willow branch. Are you not anymore? A decade of his daughter's beaming smiles and cheerful babbling shone before his mind's eyes, warm and bright as dawn. You don't smile so much anymore, but maybe you're just growing up.

Katie tugged blades of grass from the ground one by one and let them fall through her fingers, huffing them away toward the river. The little tatters of green floated over the ripples, swept downstream and into the distance.

'Maman is in her stupid greenhouse again,' his daughter muttered. 'And I am not allowed in because I might hurt her flowers.' A huge pout crept across her face. 'I just want to see them. They're pretty; I wouldn't even touch them.'

So much like your maman. Desperate yearning tugged at Harry's heart and his form slipped, bending the branch beneath his toes. No. He dragged himself back into the raven. You can't. Harry stretched his wings, warming the muscles with a few swift flaps and stifling the stab of hunger. If Fleur suspects, they'll disappear again.

The rain soaked through his daughter's silver hair, plastering her dark green dress to her skin as she stared into the wet grass between her feet.

You're going to get cold, little chick. Harry spread his wings and swooped over the river, hopping through the long damp grass and raindrop-bejewelled daisies. Maybe flowers will help. He clamped his beak about the stem and tugged, digging his talons into the dirt and flapping his wings.

The stem snapped and Harry tumbled back through the grass.

Got you. He shook off the worst of the water, inspecting the bright white flower. Now, to sneak this near her without being seen.

Harry leapt aloft, circling across the fields and the river as he rose into the sky and swooping down toward Katie's back; he hopped along the tallest branch, rustling through the slim green willow leaves and let the flower go.

It tumbled through the leaves toward the grass beside her.

Perfect. Harry fluffed his feathers up against the chill.

The daisy's stem caught on a branch and the flower spun, bouncing off the top of his daughter's head and dropping into her lap.

Merde. Harry's blood ran cold. Don't look up. He hunched himself in, tucking his beak beneath his wing and peering down with one eye.

Katie stared up at him, her green irises bright and curious, and the daisy cupped in her small hands. 'Bonjour Monsieur Raven, did you drop this on my head?' A delighted little smile flashed across her face. 'Merci beaucoup.'

Harry's heart lurched. You're welcome, baby bird.

His daughter leapt to her feet. 'Stay there.' She snatched up the watering can and bounded up the hill.

She's getting Fleur.

The storm ripped his heart away into searing winds, tearing the breath from his beak, and the world swam. Dark spots danced before his eyes.

Fleur mustn't know. Harry clawed for breath, choking the storm down, and the world stilled. It'll ruin everything.

He leapt from the branch, swooping across the river and up into the trees at the top of the hill, settling in amongst the other ravens.

Sorry, little chick. But it's better this way. This is perfect enough.

Katie scampered back through the grass, a small white bowl clutched in her hands, and gazed up through the branches of the willow. 'Monsieur Raven!'

Harry flinched. Don't shout that. If Fleur hears…

She folded her arms over the bowl, a small pout creeping across her face. 'Monsieur Raven!' His daughter stamped her foot in the daffodils upon the riverbank. 'Where did you go?!'

Okay, okay, stop shouting; I'm coming back, baby bird. Harry spread his wings and drifted down across the fields, hopping over the daffodils to his daughter's feet.

Katie beamed, her bright green eyes sparkling. 'I got you cherries!' She lifted a small dark red fruit from the bowl and dangled it, dropping down into the grass. 'Here you go, Monsieur Raven.'

Real food. Harry plucked it from her fingers with his beak and tugged a piece free, tossing his head back and gulping it down. A flood of sweet cherry filled his beak and the gnawing pang of hunger eased. Merde. That's good. He gobbled the rest, picking the small stone clean.

'Greedy bird.' His daughter giggled and rested the bowl in her lap. 'Here you go.'

Harry fell upon the rest, devouring them one by one with a cherry-smeared beak and scattering sticky stones across Katie's lap as she laughed.

'You're a big raven,' she murmured. 'Why are you down here and not with all your friends over there?' His daughter reached out one tentative hand and patted him on the head, stroking his feathers with the tips of her fingers. 'Maybe you're lonely too…'

His heart plummeted. Baby bird…

Katie picked the cherry stones off her lap and dropped them back into the bowl with quiet clinks. 'It's okay, Monsieur Raven. I'll be your friend. Then you won't be lonely anymore.' She sighed. 'Maman's not going to let me go to Beauxbatons and make friends with anyone else, so you'll have to be my only friend.'

Harry watched her fingers dart back and forth from her lap to the bowl, focusing on the cherry stones and smothering the bubbling inferno of yearning beneath his breast. Stay as the raven. He pictured it, the smooth, broad beak, beady dark eyes and sharp curved talons, pinning its shape over everything else. You know you'll only ruin things.

'It's a good thing maman never comes down here,' his daughter murmured. 'She would get all worried and scare you away in case you scratched me or pecked me.'

I think she'd probably kill me. The wry bitter humour burst from his beak as a soft croak. And even if she remembers it can only be me who came back, she wouldn't trust me anymore.

'Well.' Katie's green eyes darkened a few hues as she scowled back up toward the châteaux. 'All maman does is keep secrets from me. She never tells me anything and treats me like a baby even though I'm a big girl now; so now I have a secret too.'

She probably doesn't tell you about me. Harry hopped over the bowl and pushed his head into the crook of his daughter's elbow. I wouldn't, either. Not yet. He crushed his heart down into the dark empty place beneath. Maybe not ever if it would only make you sad.

'Awww,' Katie cooed, stroking the top of his head. 'You're a really nice bird.'

A little shiver rippled through Harry and all his feathers prickled.

'I'll bring you more cherries tomorrow, Monsieur Raven,' she whispered, poking the stem of the daisy through her slim silver braid. 'Would you like that? You can be my friend. Unless you'd rather fly away and be with all your other raven friends. That would be okay too. I wouldn't mind. I don't want to keep you here all to myself if you didn't want to stay. That's not fair.'

She scooped him up.

Harry squawked at her as she set him down on the grass and flapped his wings.

Katie giggled. 'Sorry, Monsieur Raven, but I have to go back or maman will be cross I went off by myself for too long and scared her.' She pouted. 'Maman is scary when she's cross.'

You're not wrong, little chick. A little croak of laughter escaped him. But she wouldn't ever hurt you, you're her little veela hatchling. She set me up to die to make sure you'd be safe.

'Au revoir, Monsieur Raven.' His daughter gave him a cheerful wave, grabbing the bowl off the grass and scampering up the hill. The big white daisy swung from her braid as she skipped up the hill, bouncing off her cheek and the side of her neck.

Au revoir. Harry took wing. But I won't be here tomorrow, baby bird. Je suis désolé. He floated across the long grass and back into the branches, tracking Katie back up the hill toward the châteaux. Once was already too risky. At least as the raven, I'm not casting any magic for you or Fleur to feel.

His daughter skipped through the back door.

There. Home and safe. The hunger gnawed at him. I know. I know.

Harry spread his wings, drifting down over the long grass, following the gentle turns of the river through the low hills and the fields of wildflowers to the smooth waters of a small lake. Alighting on a large rock at the shore, he shifted back, crouching down beneath the birch branches hanging over the beach and tugging his ragged robes around him.

Small ripples spread across the lake as the rain pattered down through the birch leaves, soaking into the patchwork of cloth pieces across his shoulders. A scrap slipped free, dropping into the lake and floating away across the water.

'Not again.' Harry's voice stung and rasped in his throat as he poked two fingers through the gap and shivered as the cold crept in after them. 'If only I had a bloody wand.'

But there's no way to get one. Not without risking being discovered. He plucked a large chestnut leaf off the rocks and held it over the gap. And you deserve this.

'Change,' he whispered, reaching for the last searing gasp of the storm. 'Change, or I'll inconveniently die of hypothermia before Katie is all grown up.'

A single stuttering golden spark spilled through his fingers and the leaf shivered into a strip of dark cloth, melding into the patchwork of scraps. Harry gave it a light tug.

Better. His stomach growled, gnawing at itself. I know. I know.

'Fish again.' Harry held out his hand toward the lake and tugged with his magic. 'It's amazing—' a slim silver trout slapped into his hand and he clamped his fist tight about its wet slippery scales '—that I haven't caught scurvy by now.'

But better than nothing. And in a month or so, there'll be wild fruits again.

He pinned the fish against the rock and crushed its head beneath his fist. Cold blood spurted across the side of his hand and over the rock as it spasmed under his fingers.

Brutal, but better than being cooked alive. Harry stacked a few rocks up and balanced the fish across the top of his small towers, slipping his hand underneath it and conjuring a tongue of orange flame. Now we wait.

AN: Follow the linktree to find out how to read other fun stuff, like the next story, something that's more than a little lighter in tone!

linktr . ee / mjbradley