The Wolf and the Raven

Ch 21 - Calchas' Prophecy

"Oh, come an' stir my cauldron / An' if you do it right / I'll boil ya up some hot, strong love / Ta keep ya warm tonight!"

Branwen's ears were so trained on the gravelly voice, she didn't notice a small, brindle ball of fur dart out from between the rotting logs around her. It let out a sharp yapping.

"Oi! Brutus! What're you on about?" The singing voice stopped and the tramping turned in her direction. When its owner finally appeared from around the boulder, Branwen fell back in fright.

She was staring up at a man at least twice the size of any she had ever seen. His beetle black eyes shone out from a grizzled mane that flowed into a wiry beard. His face was weather-beaten, but the lines around his eyes bespoke years of laughter. He smiled now as he bent down. Even bowing at his lowest, he hovered far above her head.

"And what migh' you be doing out here?"

The dog, Brutus, continued to yap around her, then leaped into her lap to kiss her face. Still shaking, Branwen reached around Brutus for her slate and her wand. "I'm....looking for something."

"Oh. Dumb, are we?"

When she frowned up at him, he chuckled and she could feel the reverberations through the ground. "I don' mean it like that. Meant can't speak. Mute."

Branwen smiled then nodded.

"Well, if you can hear though, you gotta know you aren' s'pposed to be here. Forbidden Forest isn't called that cause it's invitin'."

Thinking as quickly as she could, Branwen wrote, "But I lost my pet."

"Oh. Uh, what kind of critter is it?"

"A moth."

He stretched up and whistled. "Well, darlin', I hate to break it to you, but I'm afraid somethin' like that's going be impossible to find out here."

"Well...." she thought hard, "maybe we could find one just like it. He was a gift from my aunt."

She could hear him mumble, "What kind of aunt gives a kid a moth?" Then louder he said, "What kind of moth was it, darlin'?"

She lifted her slate. "Death's-head hawkmoth."

He whistled again. "Well, I s'pect we might be able to find a few of the blighters around. Come on," he held out his hand to lift her up and ended up grabbing nearly her entire arm. "I'm Hagrid, by the way. Gamekeeper here at Hogwarts."

She smiled. "Branwen Potter."

Together, the pair set off deeper into the forest, Brutus darting back and forth, chasing fairies and small songbirds.

Peter stumbled in his over-large Wellies as he ran down the steps of the Entrance Hall to catch up with his friends. James, Sirius, and Remus had already passed their permission slips to Filch who grudgingly let them by.

"Peter! Hurry up, mate!" Sirius tapped his slate impatiently while the caretaker inspected his friend's papers.

Once Peter caught up to them, James threw an arm around his shoulder, grinning and glancing around. "Where's Bran?" his slate said.

Sirius stuck his arms out, miming feeling his way through the dark.

"She's not here," Peter mumbled. Then his slate said, "She went into the Forbidden Forest to look for those dumb moths."

The three boys stopped in their tracks. They each wore a mask of violent emotion. Fear, nearer to terror, was etched on Remus' face. James was trembling with anger, his hands clenched into fists. Sirius ran forward and grabbed Peter by his shirt pockets. He didn't need his slate to convey the disgust he felt for his friend. Tossing him away, he turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction, following James and Remus who were already nearing the Forest's edge. Peter cursed under his breath, then raced after them.

As the boys caught up with each other, James glanced at them, then pointed to his mouth.

Remus shook his head. "If you take that out, she'll kill you."

James reached defiantly into his mouth and yanked out the leaf. "Then it's a lose-lose, because if I don't find her, I'll kill myself."

Sirius and Peter followed James' example. Remus said nothing, but trudged ahead into the thick bracken of the forest floor. They all fanned out, cupping their hands around their mouths and yelling. Their voices echoed through the empty spaces between the ancient trees.

"Branwen!"

"Bran!"

"Branwen!"

"Bon-Bon!"

The worst of scenarios were racing through James' mind. What tortures was his baby sister enduring even now? Was she being bled dry by a Vampire? Cooked into a stew by a Hag? Torn limb from limb by a Werewolf?....Oh, wait.

James stopped to snicker at his own joke when he heard the stamp of a large foot. Or rather, he saw when he turned around, a large hoof. He and his friends were surrounded by a herd of centaurs.

They stood as still as statues with only occasional flicks of their tails to distinguish them from any of the other stoic features of the forest. The largest among them had the body and legs of an enormous Shire horse, with long feathered legs and hooves the size of dinner plates. With his human body towering above his equine, he was easily nine feet tall. He gazed at the boys through burning black eyes. "So. You have come."

"Where is their fifth, Calchas?" A young bay glanced around.

"My sister," James spoke up, a tremor in his voice, "we're looking for her now."

"We know," Calchas spoke again.

"Do – do you know where she is?" Remus asked.

"She is safe. With Hagrid."

"Who's Hagrid?" Sirius licked his quickly-drying lips.

None of the centaurs spoke. Then Calchas, clearly the leader, spoke in a booming voice, "We have words of wisdom for you. We are the watchers of the sky and the keepers of its secrets. Long have they told us of your coming."

A shiver ran through the boys, as though a cold wind had passed through their very bones. James swallowed and stuttered, "Wh-why? Wh-why u-us?"

"Impudent foal. Interrupting a prophecy!" The bay snorted.

"Silence, Nestor!" Calchas looked grave as he spoke to them again, "We have this to say to you:

A darkness has risen out of which only the young will find their way. In the crescent of the moon, love will die and love will live. The least among you will become the best of them, the best of you will become the least, and the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.