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The Watchers Destiny

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I flew through the night, rising and falling with the crashing waves, the sky covered in clouds and the winds howling in my ears. I had to cast She to guide me. As day broke I landed in France in the mountains, on a high ledge and surveyed the area. It was an un-inhabited area, partly forest but with huge cracks and sharp jutting masses from rock falls. I welcomed She back into me, spread my wings and jumped for the ledge, gliding gracefully downwards and landing in the upper branches of a pine, scrambling for a foothold. I settled myself, bringing my wings in at my sides and allowing my tail to dangle down, its tip about two metres from the forest floor. I waited, knowing that the werewolves were here, somewhere, and they were more likely to find me than I them. After a time I changed my form back to myself, worried that I would be too heavy for the branch otherwise. I sat around, swinging my legs carelessly until I heard a noise to my left. I turned my head quickly, looking down at the forest floor, listening as a group of footsteps approached, perhaps three sets, maybe four. They said nothing as they moved though the undergrowth and so I presumed they were a patrol. Now was my chance. As they came closer I crouched myself and watched them pass beneath me, their super senses failing to pick me out. I jumped down behind them and they all turned and stared at me, their eyes wide, their faces in snarls and their hands curved like claws. 

"C'est une sorcière," snarled one in French.

"Pensez-vous qu'elle est par le ministère?" growled another.

The third shrugged and smiled evily.

"Nous allons la ramener au camp de toute façon, si elle est ... elle fera une délicieuse collation," they grinned.

I didn't know what the last one had said, but it sent shivers down my spine. 

"Eh bien, qu'est-ce que tu attends? Voyons la chercher!" said the third one again.

It must have been a signal because all of them leaped at me in a swift, well thought out manoeuvre. It would have worked against any witch or wizard, if they weren't me. They pinned me down on the ground, I could see they were worried that I hadn't fought back.

"How dare you," I said in the old tongue, "you would harm me? The one who can save you?"

They jumped away from me and I stood up, brushing some of the dirt from my clothing, then turning my eyes on them.

"You know who I am?" I demanded.

They nodded and fell to their knees.

"We beg your forgiveness," said the first one who had spoken, "we had no idea-"

"Enough," I said calmly, "just take me back to your camp. I expect Greyback is there?"

I saw a shiver run through all three of them and the first nodded. I guess Greyback had more of a worldwide reputation than I had first thought. I hoped he had changed. 

"Yes," said the second, "we shall take you to him and our Leader."

"Lead on," I said.

They stood and began to walk back through the forest. I followed at a distance, aware of my surroundings more than usual. I felt that there was a threat here, somewhere, just out of sight. It took about twenty minutes to hit the boarder of the camp, which I knew because of the warnings cut into the trees in the Old Tongue that wizards and muggles would be afraid of because of the power they held. I walked between the trio now, my breathing casual, I felt no fear here. As they led me through I saw the people here look up from their tasks, preparing food, tending the fires, sewing, caring for children, it was a camp of refugees. They were all on the run from the French Ministry. They were worried to see a witch here, one that was not a Werewolf. I decided to stop looking to my sides and look straight ahead. After a moment, I saw Greyback, just as he saw me.

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