Vagary • Charlie Weasley

・ Chapter Six ・

The forest was a whirlwind of green and grey tones around Pihla; trees of daunting heights; horned birds atop spindly branches; pathways that lead to nothing but shadows; stones and landmarks centuries old; streams of water glazing ice over hardened soil. The smell of petrichor hung in the air as much as it always did, thick and crisp when breathed in. It was incredibly cold outside, yet Pihla welcomed it.

The wind was harsh in her face, like all the elements of the forest. It was home for her, particularly during moments where she ran through maze-like paths, as she did now. The ground was cool to the touch. A cacophony of bird songs surrounded the glade, echoing as a lively tune.

Pihla ran, her small fox legs nimble in their movement. She'd been out for a good hour, ignoring the tug that called her back to the castle - a reminder that she had classes to attend and work to do. She couldn't at this point. Not just yet.

Her heart thumped with adrenaline, blood warm. Memories flooded her mind — of a boy whose smile lit her alight.

Pihla stepped into a clearing, where early morning sunlight poured streaks across rain-sodden grass. It smelt of moss and pine.

She shifted into her human self. The process took only moments, yet the horrid crackle of bone and skin transitioning felt everlasting. No longer did her surroundings burst with colours and smells and sounds. The greens and browns dulled into the greyish tones attuned to her human sight. Though she could still hear the ever-present buzz of distant insects, it could never level with the overwhelming onslaught of sounds she picked up as a fox.

Pihla sat herself on a patch of grass, careful not to let her robes dirty from the ground. Her short hair was wet, strung together in dark strands from residue rain. She used her hands to brush out a knot, somewhat disgruntled by the tangled mess she had to deal with.

A familiar beat of wings circled above her head. Her owl swooped above her head, graceful as she landed before Pihla. Her large, dark eyes looked both amused and sardonic. She hooted a call, a low note to Pihla's human ears, a demand. Pihla debated staying in her human form to simply avoid hearing whatever her owl had to say to her. Deciding it would be best to simply get it over and done with, she relented to the bird's call and shifted once more into her fox self.

Now much smaller than her owl, she huffed a snort and cocked her head up in question at the bird.

"Where have you been? Creatures have been wandering around this forest in disarray since last night." Elina's sharp, brittle voice sliced the air. Pihla found the distant, anxious buzz of insects to be as unnerving as her glare.

"What do you mean?" She replied, snout nosing at the air. The forest was just about the same as it always was. Cold, dark and alive with magic.

"That dragon. The one that nearly burnt down your Slytherin house and scared half the black lake into hiding. No one had even known it was on our grounds until then, and you, as I hear, offered it aid and let it wander by itself all night and morning."

Pihla gave a twitch of her ear. "Well I couldn't go around ushering a dragon through the halls of the school, could I?" At the birds black stare, she bristled. "We were being evacuated. Professor Snape looked suspicious of me enough, I don't think a dragon would offer any semblance of innocence to the situation. What was I supposed to do?"

"Get it out of there? Tell it to get away from the castle, away from here. Do you know what a dragon on the grounds would mean?!"

"I don't."

"It would mean chaos. Creatures wanting to hunt or kill it. Who knows what else. Some would leave - that thing would scare away half this forest's residents."