As The Falcon Hath Her Bells: Taking Flight

Chapter Nine

Snape was finishing working times for Hermione Granger's project into his schedule--she had better make his time worthwhile.Not like the bulk of lazy, aimless Gryffindors who were happy to fill their valuable time with wasteful pranks and the like: he silently gave thanks that the infamous Weasley twins were now out of Hogwarts and that the place was the calmer for it.Their younger brother, Ron, was a timid, whinging little mouse compared to Fred and George.Thinking of a mouse, he grimaced to remember Peter Pettigrew from his own school days.Indeed, Weasley was the Pettigrew of Potter's little enclave.Granger was probably Remus Lupin--quiet, serious, and studious.Thankfully there seemed to be no counterpart for Sirius Black; that he gave a silent thanks to Heaven for.The world could only hold one ego that large with a brain that small.

He turned his mind back to the task at hand, hearing Tosca grumbling from her perch.The part of him that was falcon, ever since that first night he had shown her what he was capable of, could now understand what she was saying.Carry letters for you, she said in a miffed tone, go flying through storms, listen to your rants, teach you to fly…I tell you, Severus, I had better get something good from this.I want some decent food to start.You've been forgetting me because of your project--and that hedgehog I caught last night was almost impossible to eat.

He laughed slightly and handed her a piece of meat, which she eagerly began ripping at.He had known she was a bird of strong opinions, but now that he understood her speech, she was proving to be quite the wit.She had already coerced him into leaving the hood off, and removing her anklets, telling him flat-out that she had no plan of escaping.

He then gritted his teeth as suddenly the Dark Mark flared to life, smoldering in his flesh.So soon? he thought.Am I ready?

"Tosca, dear," he said, putting a smooth, purring tone into his voice despite the pain, "would you say I've learned fairly well this past week?"He'd have to turn on the charm to get her to agree with this.

Not hopeless, came the agreement.For a human, she added disdainfully.He gave her that, remembering ruefully how she had saved his neck when he had fallen from the Astronomy Tower, figuring out the hard way that he didn't know how to fly.The Animagus transformation apparently did not come complete with animal instincts.As though he was a helpless, newly feathered chick, she had taught him to fly, to hunt, and in general to be able to pass for a falcon like any other.I could almost be fond of you, she went on teasingly, if you didn't insist on spending your time in that ugly human form.Come on, Sev, fly away into the sunset with me!

"Imagine what the children would look like," he muttered, raising an eyebrow."No, Tosca, I need to go out flying tonight, and," he was almost wheedling, "I need your help."This is what I get--before, I told her to do something and she did it.And now I'm pleading with a bird, for Heaven's sake!

She lazily stretched her wings.And what is it? Your Mark is acting up again?Well, you're quite prepared to go spy.

"I need you to come with me," he replied."They might possibly suspect one falcon sitting there nearby, but if they see two of us, they'll probably think nothing of it.You know the sort--act like we're hunting and the like and they'll have no interest in us."They'd assume them to be mates, possibly on the lookout for a nest site.After all, the presence of a pair of gyrfalcon Animagi would be indeed very odd, and an Animagus would probably not be wasting time hunting if he or she were on a mission.He grimaced."And besides, if I get caught, I'd need you to come back and get word to Dumbledore."Not that he would expect the old man to bargain for him--he knew the risk he took on in this dangerous game.A spy caught was a spy brutally executed.But he would owe Dumbledore an explanation of what he had been up to and his fate.

Why should I get involved with this? she asked suspiciously.I've no interest in a group of humans lollying around in robes and masks and kissing some stupid prig's feet while babbling nonsense.This is your idea of--He wondered where she had found that out.

He cut her off."All right, all right.Come with me and we'll spend all of Saturday hunting," he pleaded."I promise.You deserve a day out after all you've done.I'll understand if you're too afraid--"

She fluffed her feathers and hissed in ire, looking twice her size.Nobody calls Tosca afraid!She really was a little Gryffindor in some aspects--easy to manipulate.Her wit was at least distinctly Slytherin.

"Very well," he replied, finishing writing the note to Dumbledore in case the plan failed.Using a Shrinking Charm, he carefully hid it beneath one of her breast feathers with a Fastening Charm.She could easily pluck it away and hand it to Dumbledore, who would know what to do to it.

Do you know where you're going? Tosca asked suspiciously.

"I'm not a complete idiot," he said shortly, grabbing his wand so that he could eventually Apparate the two of them a little distance away from the manor so that he could transform.If they flew there it would be all night.

She gave him a withering look.I'm bigger than you when you're a bird, me boyo, she pointed out smugly.True--the female falcon was larger than the male.And you haven't been to these things in how many years?They often meet in the Malfoy Manor.I've seen them there when I flew over towards the Ministry.

"Astute little spy, aren't you."He gently took her in hand, she careful not to grasp him too tightly with her talons.Carefully exiting the castle so as not to be seen, he then Apparated from the edge of the Forbidden Forest to a spot a little ways down the road from Malfoy Manor.They would have to fly in close, and he would have to perform a Sonorous Charm on the window of the room they were meeting in, so he could hear through it.Thankfully, a mage in Animagus form could still perform spells, so long as their wand had been on their person when they transformed.Trying to perch on a tree branch after shifting to human form, perform the charm, and transforming back without getting caught would be a bit much, especially since he was still a beginner.

He shuddered to remember the horrors committed at Malfoy Manor in the old days.Well, now he would do his part again to end the terror and depravity of Voldemort and those who followed him.

* * * * *

Within two minutes, Lucius Malfoy noticed an interesting sight as he looked out the window, looking for Crabbe and Goyle nervously.Those two idiots probably didn't know what time was, let alone to keep track of it.The Dark Lord was growing impatient for all his Death Eaters to arrive.

Two falcons flew outside in an interesting display, having flushed a hare from the grounds.The small black one dove at it, cunningly forcing it to turn back in fear, and there the bigger white one was waiting and ready.It missed clumsily though, and the hare dove into its burrow.Lucius smirked.Darkness always was cleverer anyhow, and it never paid to rely on others.The Dark Lord knew that as well as he did.

* * * * *

Albus Dumbledore was awakened early in the morning by a faint screeching noise coming from the foot of the bed.He blearily opened his eyes, fumbled for his wand on the bedside table, and whispered, "Lumos!"Immediately the room lit up so that he saw a pair of falcons sitting on the footboard.One he recognized as Severus' Tosca."Is he all right?" he murmured softly to her.He had seemed all right after his accident in March, but one never knew with Severus.He was altogether too good at hiding himself, he thought regretfully.

Her smaller black companion--a mate?--gave a soft call, stretched out its wings, and its outlines grow blurry, the form melding together and forming itself slowly back into--Severus.

"Good morning," he said."I'll answer all your questions later, but right now, you must get a message to Varvel Saker to seek safety immediately.McNair, Avery, and Malfoy are going after her tonight."Saker was one of the Ministry's Aurors.Without thought, Dumbledore reached for a quill and a sheet of parchment, writing furiously, and then handing the scroll to Fawkes.The phoenix took off in a blur of flame as he turned to Snape again, suddenly understanding what had happened.

Chapter Ten

Hermione settled her things carefully into her room in Gryffindor Tower the first morning after the Greeting Feast, secretly grateful to have her own room, however small it might have been.Listening to Parvati and Lavender giggling over Teen Witch and other such nonsense had grown tiresome, especially when she was trying to study.

Crookshanks settled down on the bed for a nap, tired after the journey on the Hogwarts Express.She closed her trunk then as she finished unpacking.Classes began tomorrow.Right then, she had to go consult with Professor Dumbledore about her duties, if any, as Head Girl for the day.Still, she snatched up a thick sheaf of parchment, hoping to get to see Professor Snape today and present her idea for a potion.She secretly hoped he wouldn't sneer and reject it as soft and Gryffindor-like and refuse to help.She was fairly certain it was within her reach, and that it would be greatly useful.

Professor Dumbledore just laughed and told her to enjoy her last day before her responsibilities truly began.She stopped to give Fawkes a quick rub on the head, seeing him flame a happy scarlet at that.Then she descended to the dungeons to find Professor Snape.She hadn't seen him in three months, after all.

She hoped things had improved for him over the summer with his research.No wonder he was so keen to have something to do--she'd go completely mad if forced to stay on Hogwarts' grounds for two years with nary a peek at the wide world beyond.Her summer had been quiet but pleasant, her friends asking if her applications were going in to Cambridge and Oxford, where they naturally figured she would go after the years at her "exclusive" boarding school in the Scottish Borders.She had swallowed a laugh as always, thinking, You have no idea how exclusive it is!

Harry had written her with the usual tales of the Dursleys treating him like maggot-infested carrion, and Ron had written complaining as he had every summer of the ruckus and lack of privacy around the house with all his brothers home.To the former she had sent some sweets and snacks to keep him going, as well as a new book on Quidditch, glad that was the last summer she'd have to hear of those horrible people.To the latter she had sympathized as always, but quite frankly she was getting tired of Ron's inferiority complex of being the youngest son; convincing himself that he'd never amount to anything, and therefore never trying.

"Professor?" she called softly, rapping on the door of his office.He had told her before she left to come find him promptly to present her proposal.An impatient, "Come in!" answered her.She swung the door open and stepped inside.

He sat at his desk, writing.He had kept his appearance up, she noticed, and, put on a little weight to his formerly gaunt frame.The air of frustrated rage around him seemed to have evaporated as well.A faint squeak caught her attention, and she saw a white falcon sitting on a perch near his desk, eyeing her with interest.

"Not now, Tosca," he said impatiently.Tosca?Where had he heard of the Muggle opera, and why on Earth had he named his falcon after her?Then again, Floria Tosca was probably a character a Slytherin would appreciate--cunning and ruthless when faced with losing what she loved most.Still, they'd probably disdain the opera, since Slytherin hated everything Muggle with a passion."Have you something to say," he drawled with the same biting humor, "or shall I presume you have just come to enjoy the pleasure of my company?"

* * * * *

Aha, your little passager is back, Tosca had said in satisfaction when Miss Granger had entered his office.I rather fancy that she likes you--she saved your life, and she wants to work with you on Potions now?Maybe she wants to cook up something of a quite different one-on-one nature with you, hmm? she had suggested smugly.It's really not natural to not want to mate, Severus.He had brusquely dismissed her, and rather acidly asked Hermione Granger what she wanted, a little more harshly than was warranted, perhaps.God help him if the girl actually did find him attractive.

"I--came to present my idea for the project, sir," she said, carefully handing him a stack of parchment inches thick.He sighed to himself.He should have known better than to tell Hermione Granger to be thorough.Well, he would pick through it in his precious little spare time, but to begin…

"Tell me what you had in mind.Keep it short."

"Sir?"

"If you haven't even the grasp of what you want to do," he said crisply, "enough to describe and explain it to me, I can only conclude you do not take me or research seriously enough to embark upon it.Either that or you have a complete lack of brains, which I doubt is the case with you, Miss Granger."He sat back in his chair."Well?" he prompted.

Brown eyes met black.She nodded slightly."My idea, sir, is to make a Forgetfulness Potion.You know Neville's--difficulties--extend from bad Memory Charms as well as I do.The problem with Oblivate is that it can easily go awry and put a seal over the wrong things--like the instincts for magic."She took a deep breath and plunged on."I want to make a potion that can be directed towards eliminating specific painful memories, without the risks of the charm.I--I know it would be of use, sir, because look at how many orphans and tortured survivors the Death Eaters have left in their wake.Many of them would prefer to forget, don't you think?"

He smiled a little sadly."I don't think, Miss Granger, I know," he said slowly.The idea was a good one, even if it was rather sympathetic and noble-minded.Very Gryffindor of her: a Slytherin would probably be ambitious enough to take on a potion to counter Imperio, for instance.But perhaps there was no less virtue in dealing relief in a quieter manner, and nothing to be ashamed of in researching a potion that was distinctly possible, rather than setting the bar impossibly high and falling far short in frustration.Successful small steps produced more than failed leaps and bounds, after all.She perhaps possessed the wisdom to see that and had factored that into her thoughts.

Her eyes widened in horror."Oh, I'm sorry, sir--I didn't mean to--" She sounded genuinely chagrined to call up his sordid past and in effect fling it at him.Images rose unbidden to his mind in a loathsome muddle.He too had left orphans and tortured survivors in his wake, a lifetime ago.Truly they probably would like to forget.He would like to be able to forget as well, instead of waking from nightmares of the monster he had been.

"There is little time to be wasted," he said shortly, "crying over a spilled cauldron.Now: it seems a plausible and very likely well-thought--" a wry glance at the stack of parchment thick as several volumes of the encyclopedia, "--proposal.Well done.What is your idea for proceeding?"

"Well, I was thinking," she said, face now animated as she sat down, excited now that he had deemed her idea worthy, "that--well--it would need a directional; something to make it graft to and erase only very specific memories, not half your mind.That's the trouble with Oblivate.It's such a powerful Charm that controlling it is next to impossible--you can really only hope that you got the memory to erase and not too much of the other, vital parts of the brain.That's probably part of what happened to Neville--it took out his magical instincts and completely damaged his mechanism for memory, hence why he can't seem to remember even the simplest things sometimes."

"I think, Miss Granger," he said, trying to be as kind as he could, as it was a good idea, "that if you are doing this with the idea of curing Mr. Longbottom from the damage done, you are rather too late."

She sighed."I know that, sir.Neville's my friend and I'd love to be able to help him.But if I can maybe prevent more people from being damaged in their lives, isn't that always something worth fighting for?"

In spite of himself, he smiled a very little.Birds of a feather, Tosca crowed triumphantly.She wants to get into the fray just like you and do some good.

"Later, Tosca!" he almost snapped.She had better not be entertaining an idea like that.He fought because he owed a debt.He was not some wide-eyed visionary who didn't know what could happen to him on the front lines.The risk had been carefully weighed and accepted long ago--his life would be more than worth the information he could bring to save others.

He began considering the potion.There were various Forgetfulness Potions, and the one she had wisely decided to be the one most easy to adapt (he shared the opinion) was also the most difficult to brew.It wasn't something for dabblers in Potions to try.It required precise timing in adding ingredients, and use of some unstable ingredients that had to be added immediately from the jar; else they'd oxidize and crumble rapidly.The directional would be more difficult, of course.

"Will that be all?" he asked Miss Granger.

"Oh.Yes, sir.So--is it all right?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes.Your time for working, with my assistance if you wish, is set aside as three hours on Tuesday afternoons after your Arithmancy class. Any time upon weekends that you wish is also available, and we will consult weekly on Monday evenings for an hour so that I can chart your progress and you may seek any guidance you wish.Is that acceptable?"

She nodded eagerly."Good.Then come with me."He rose from his chair; ignoring Tosca's laugh, and headed out the door, Hermione close behind.He led her to a long-unused workroom that he had scoured and equipped over the summer."This will be your laboratory."He reached into his robes and handed her a heavy brass key."That is to unlock the door, after you have said the password to take down the ward, which is," he winced, "'Sugar Plum'."He really wanted to tear into Hipollyta Franks for choosing such inane passwords five centuries before when she had magically protected the workrooms due to the secretive nature of their contents. And she a Slytherin!It was a disgrace."I would ask that you leave it locked at all times, of course."

"I will, sir," she promised, after giggling at the password.He then handed her another key.This one was etched pewter, incised with various arcane runes.She recognized only a few of them.

"This is to the Potions storeroom," he said, and added at her look of surprise, "since I am not willing to fetch and carry every time you need an ingredient.If I trust you enough to experiment around, I think you can be trusted to get your own components.However," here he paused, "any more restricted ingredients, you shall have to inform me of.If I do not have it in my office, it shall be procured for you.No ingredients leave the dungeons, no free-form experimenting, and please try to stay within authorized guidelines."It wouldn't do at all for him to be dragged to Azkaban for a student he was sponsoring fooling with illegal potions.

"I understand," she nodded."I don't know how much I'll be able to do initially, as my first step is to brew the basic Forgetfulness Potion, and you know as well as I that it takes eight weeks, with only a minimum of stirring and additions every few days."She made a face."During which time I really can't brew anything else.So I will probably be searching more for how to direct it during that time."

"Very well.Until Tuesday, then.I think we may skip tomorrow's consultation, and can probably pass it by entirely until the Forgetfulness Potion is done.Good day, Miss Granger, and welcome back."

She bid him a good day and headed out of the dungeons.He headed back to his office, sitting down in his chair, and started thinking of something that could target down to the specific memory to eliminate it.He almost ignored the smug little chuckles from the corner.