Harry Potter and the Wyvern's Crown

Chapter 9: Whence called the raven...

Raven's eyes were off the bones. So were Harry's. It was divination, late November, and the news Harry had divulged to Raven had her caught, her hands still, though she had been in the middle of casting his future. Ron touched Harry's arm, all it had taken for Harry to snap at Raven was one of her smooth jokes.

Ron looked up at Raven, who was still stunned, 'Come on, Harry, she can't still be upset with you for that. You were thinking about the game!'

Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall to the table. Even though it was warm, he still felt cold inside. Cho had given him a note late last night, by way of Hedwig. It read thus,

'I should have told you a long time ago, Harry, but I still feel like we've never really connected. This whole Raven thing is too much for me, and everyone keeps asking the same questions over and over again. I can't get them out of my head. Are we over, now you have Raven? And worse; Do I love you Harry? Enough to let you walk all over me? Enough to listen to you talk about her when I'm sitting beside you holding your hand? How far will I let this go before I have to admit that all you've managed to do for our entire relationship is hurt me? Last year, I should have realized this wouldn't work out. I'm sorry to have led you on. Cho Chang.'

He'd been able to keep his composure until Raven had slyly made a comment about he and Cho getting married as she threw his `future love' bones. Then the story had spilled out. How he'd so foolishly been giving less time to Cho over the past few months, and though the ball had been lovely, the fact that Raven had stolen the show had stung. And then came the coup de grace. Through some unlucky fate, the person Harry had shoved out of his way as he was guiding Raven back to the dorm was Cho herself. Since then, her fellow Ravenclaws hadn't been much of a help as she tried to convince herself that she should stay with Harry. It wasn't easy. And it wasn't likely to get easier. And finally, Cho had made her choice.

Harry just wished with all his heart that he could have honestly seen it coming. He'd apologized until he had to ask her forgiveness for saying he was sorry so often. But it had been damage unrepairable, it seemed.

Raven's hair was down, falling into her eyes. 'I'm so sorry, Harry. There's nothing I can do?'

Harry shook his head sadly. 'Unfortunately, no. I mean...I want her back, but I don't want her to think that she has to be with me if she'd rather not. Oh, God. I don't know what to do.'

Ron was barely able to hiss a warning as Trelawney came over to investigate her prized student's technique. Harry managed to wipe his eyes on his sleeve before the bug-eyed teacher noticed.

She waved a long fingered hand. 'And what are you reading now, Ms. Hawksmoor?'

Raven's façade, once full of a deep and complete concern for Harry's well-being, seemed to fall away, leaving an objective and emotionless persona as she answered, 'I was about to toss the bones on behalf of Ron.'

'Concerning?'

'Concerning his immediate fate in general.'

Harry privately wondered how Raven could lie with such a straight face. Ron couldn't keep back his smile. Raven tossed the bones, muttering to herself. When they came to a halt, Raven smiled, 'You are surrounded by your family and friends, loved and cared for. Your path is clear, and you will travel well. A most positive combination of signs.'

'And...' Trelawney prompted her.

'And?' Raven blinked. This was the first time Harry had ever seen her falter.

'And the betrayer within?'

'There's no betrayer.' Raven looked at the bones carefully. 'They've fallen with the best of meanings!'

'Ahh, but the best of times often can mean complacency, fool-hardiness. It is a deserved warning to tell him to continue to keep his eye out for trouble. He may well be his own betrayer. Do not let the positive signs ever outweigh caution.'

Lavender heard the stern reprimand, and laughed from the other side of the room. Trelawney floated away as Raven's cheeks darkened. Several of the students also seemed to be pleased with Raven's failure. She turned her head, and refused to look anyone in the eye. Ron took the bones and began to call Harry's future again, using his book from time to time to help himself memorize what the different combinations meant with the pattern in which they fell.

After Ron finished, Harry began to call for Raven. Her life had bitter struggle. Her family was torn apart by darkness, in all time aspects. Her future was uncertain. Her way was somewhat clear, but with it came caution from hidden dangers and traps along the way. As Harry threw for her love life, Raven actually looked up. Then she saw how the bones were lying, some crossed, others touching in poor areas, all with negative sides up. She closed her eyes, even as Harry apologized for such a bad throw. He tried to make light of it, but Raven wouldn't hear it.

When class ended she began to run down the stairs. Harry called after her, but in a sudden, desperate move, Raven's whole body collapsed and she turned into a crow, flying away at top speed. He chased after her, but she was far too fast in that form. She hadn't left her clothing behind this time (obviously, when she transformed normally, her clothing would be magically kept with her, as Sirius' had). It was only the suddenness of the fall earlier that month that had actually frightened her into turning only herself into a crow.

But Harry hadn't expected to see her do the trick again, especially since McGonagall's short, sharp speech about how no one was to request any information (whatsoever) about Raven's Animagus ability. No questions, or comments would be made to Raven about it, and she was under the strictest orders to keep herself `as a girl, rather than a bird'. Harry knew he had been the only one to see her do it as the other students passed him, only a few complaining about his taking up space. He leaned against the wall for some time, wondering why Raven was so upset, especially when he was the one who had lost Cho.

* * *

Later that day, Harry headed out into the courtyard. It was cold out now, but the November sun was still managing to keep the snow away. It wouldn't last long, however, Harry thought as he rubbed his hands together. Soon the winter break would come, and Christmas, not long after. Once Harry could have honestly cared less about Christmas, but every one he'd had since he'd first arrived at Hogwarts had been better than the last, particularly considering he didn't have to hear Dudley howl about how his two-thousand dollar bike was the wrong colour, or how Harry had thrown his wrapping too close, or worst of all, how horrible his parents were for giving Harry so much when Harry was simply so awful to him. Considering Harry had received nothing but socks from them for as long as he could remember, and often getting sent to bed without any supper (for upsetting Dudley so) he didn't think that remaining away from his guardians for the hols was such a bad thing.

As he walked across the courtyard, he heard a soft caw from above. He looked up in time to see a crow fly softly overhead. Raven? It was unlikely considering the sheer amount of crows that inhabited the trees around the school, not to mention the flock that Raven had befriended. She had since used the largest crow as her pet when she needed one. It could have been him, for all Harry knew.

But something about its flight made Harry alter his course. He followed with his eyes and his feet as the bird flapped away. He began to run, his eyes on the crow, ignoring everything around him. He was barely aware of racing through the fields with the meagre remains of the natural-grown herbs. He didn't care that he had to hop a fence which tore his cloak. Something was important about this, something very important. Oh, if only he was an Animagus, this wouldn't be so hard! As he hopped yet another fence, heading for the secondary pitch (where Quidditch and broom-riding classes were held during Harry's fourth year). He lunged through the bushes, his eyes on the crow. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Raven. Another bird would have altered course by now, or chosen to land. And just as he felt his heart bursting from the effort, the crow dove towards a large oak. But rather than heading for a branch, it landed underneath, hidden by a patch of over-grown juniper.

Harry slowed, forcing himself to catch his breath. The cold wind blew around him, damp.

He felt then how his cloak had not been the only thing caught on the fence. He touched his knee, the torn jeans there. He touched his finger to his lips. Blood. As he quieted himself, he sunk low, heading for the bush. Then, he heard a soft caw. He held still, silent, trying not breathe. He wasn't a dark wizard. Surely, she couldn't sense him. He bit his lip, Surely.

Then a voice spoke, calm, gentle, 'Shh, now, Raven. I don't understand you when you're like that, you know,' There was another soft caw, then a crackle as one of them moved in the damp grass. Harry continued to be quiet, waiting. This had to have been her date. He recognised the soft lilt to his voice.

'That's better.' There was a pause. Raven sniffled. The boy spoke again, 'Now, what's hurt you this time?'

'Nothing.' Her voice was certain, 'Everything.'

'Can it be both?' The voice seemed familiar to Harry. Was it a Ravenclaw? One of their Chasers had a soft voice...but wasn't he a bass? This was a tenor, much higher pitched. He moved forwards again, careful to time his steps with Raven's sniffles. She had to be crying. He felt his stomach pitch at the thought. Had the bones honestly meant that much to her?

'I was in divination...' She waited for his `hmm' of agreement before continuing. 'And Harry was throwing the bones, and when he threw for my future love...oh, it was worst of signs. I've never seen something so horrifying!'

'But you've said before that it's nonsense. Why let it bother you?'

'The rest of the bones,' she swallowed, 'were accurate. He saw my family torn apart by dark forces. You know my father was killed by a werewolf sent by...by him.'

Harry's breath caught. He had never known about that, and everyone knew that he had Raven were probably the closest friends in the whole Gryffindor house, even if she chose never to flirt with him. And it explained her personal venom for Lupin, even if she could manage to smile in his presence in a kind manner now.

'Indeed I do, but it's just a guess.' He obviously didn't receive any agreement from Raven because he repeated himself, 'It's just a guess, right? And besides...'

'And besides what?' Raven's voice had raised, hitting a pitch of utter sorrow. 'The rest of them were as accurate at the last. My so-called mother hates me. My father is dead. My way is barren. Barren. Harry may not know all the falls of the bones, but I can see what they were leading up to. And then, ours.'

The unknown male accomplice said nothing.

Harry edged closer, tilting himself so he could see the couple.

Raven was shaking her head, barely visible, 'The bones said that not only are we fated to fail, but the recourse, the course we will take... We're fated to...' Her eyes were full of tears again, '...to turn against the other. And not just partway, and not just in public. Completely. Our whole hearts. We will not only turn against each other, but for selfish reasons, to avoid damage.'

'What damage could there be?' His voice struck a chord with Harry, but was still too indistinct, 'What damage? Other than us having to leave each other, what can harm us?'

'Opinions. Rumours. The fact that we're in different houses.'

'And you, of one of the most powerful families?'

'One of the thinnest bloodlines...'

'Don't say that, Raven. The Hawksmoors outdate my own family by at least ten generations.'

So a non-Gryffindor pure-blood, Harry thought softly to himself. Of a witching family. But there were plenty of pure-bloods. Other than taking away the quarter of the school who came from two Muggle parents, he really hadn't narrowed down the field. It made sense that it wasn't a Gryffindor, though. Why else hide? He leaned an inch closer. Raven had her head bowed. The guy, now in view, was hidden mostly on the other side of the tree. Raven broke down most suddenly. Harry felt a tear prick in his own eye. He had hoped she hadn't noticed how many of the Gryffindors despised her, or hoped that she felt that she was better than their foolishness. But it was all a farce. She couldn't be the laughing, smiling Raven all the time. The boy moved forwards, took her into his arms. She turned in them, burying her head into his shoulder. Harry was dumbfounded. The boy had finally turned his head, his eyes closed as he held Raven. If it weren't for the fact that his nose wrinkled the same way as when he was upset as when he was sneering, Harry wouldn't have recognised him.

Draco Malfoy sat there, holding Raven as though she meant more to him than his own life.

And Harry couldn't seem to hold back his own silent tears, even as the soft rain began to fall on them all.

* * *

Harry had never been so shaken in all his life. Not even when he had first learned he was a Parseltongue (though that came awfully close). He'd managed to get away from Raven and Draco a few moments after the rain began, and had run back to the castle. Now thoroughly soaked, he wandered the labyrinthine hallways, his eyes searching the moving paintings and enormous tapestries for answers. Draco was slyer and more devious than Harry had first realized. He'd been the only one that Raven played with who managed to joke back with the same nuances. Harry had seen it as Draco's common viciousness, but it had been flirting. It explained the times when he held his tongue, the times he had used Raven as a good excuse to complain, and worst of all, why he had dived to save her in the game earlier this month.

Harry flopped down on the top of a staircase, ignoring how cold he was.

It was hard to think of Malfoy being a good friend to anyone, but his actions of late also spoke of a deep respect for Raven. But what was really eating at him now was Raven's words, not long after it began to rain. She had sobbed that no one at her house cared for her, that they all hated her. And much to Harry's surprise, Draco had disagreed. He told Raven that Harry was a good friend to her, that she had said so herself, and he trusted him. He had struggled, but had managed to dig up Ron and Hermione's names as well, that they were good at magic, and that Neville was of a good bloodline, too, even if he was a poor student. He praised her for her talents, and told her that he had personally cursed half his team, even though they were up against Hufflepuff before the break. Then he had said the last thing that Harry would have ever expected. He had told her, in a tight voice, that he wasn't worth anything next to her. It was then that Harry ran. It was then that Harry knew something had completely changed about his rival.

But what? Harry wiped his face with his water-logged cloak. Could Malfoy be so smitten with Raven as to change his whole outlook on life? Certainly she was a beautiful (and downright exotic) witch, but could Malfoy honestly love her? Could she honestly love him? And, he couldn't help the thought, could they manage to stay together, even though many of her housemates would completely turn their back on her for it? He looked up and saw four ancient tapestries hanging high in the open stairwell. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff. Harry let his eyes trace over each. He wondered, for the first time in ages, what would have happened if he had ended up a Slytherin. Perhaps he would have been better than Malfoy. More devious, somehow. Maybe he would have gotten the bewitching Raven.

Harry shook his head. What kind of thought was that? He loved Cho. But, the silver scaled snake seemed to hiss at him, She doesn't love *you* any longer, does she? She kept you back from Raven, and now the boy who ought to grovel at your feet has her and you have nothing.

Harry managed to drag his eyes away from the snake. The green tapestry seemed to be crawling with dark thoughts and whispers. That, and he could feel his Parseltongue creeping into his mouth. He hated that. The most feared and hated of the Dark Gifts, and he happened to have it in flush. He let himself gaze at his own crest, the proud, rampant lion. It had no evil call to him. It had no call at all. Again, old doubts poured into him, old doubts that broke into old fears. He was a Parseltongue He could open the Chamber of Secrets that only the Heir of Slytherin should have been able to do. Why had he asked not to be one? Perhaps it *was* where he belonged. He looked at the Ravenclaw banner between the two. And where did Raven honestly belong? She was Ravenclaw by birthright. She should have been in that house even more than Harry should have been in Slytherin. But after all the choices the Sorting Hat could have made, it put her in a house not defined by their strength together, but their brava apart. The only house not built for groups. Hufflepuffs were loyal, standing together. Ravenclaws remarked at each others brilliance and supported each others weakness so the whole house would succeed. And the Slytherins hardly had time to fight with each other, they were so often caught up in plans to take down the other houses. And though Harry sensed there was a pecking order among them (obviously Malfoy out-ranked his companions Crabbe and Goyle) they all respected each other's space to a certain point.

His gaze fell on the lion again. But we Gryffindors...the moment the fun ends, we stop liking each other. The moment something rotten gets thrown our way we're so quick to turn our backs on it. And if anyone has even a moment in the sun, they're disliked privately for weeks (for taking the glory and fame). Sure we can have fun, but we gossip too much. We let our fears consume us, and...

Harry froze. Had the lion's eyes seemed to move?

Unable to help himself, Harry spoke aloud, 'Oh, you disagree with me? You couldn't care less. It's simply horrible how they're treating her and once they find out about Malfoy, they'll never speak to her again! That's what you stand for now, you realize.'

The lion said nothing. Harry didn't expect it to. He sniffled, 'That's what I thought. You really don't care, do you?'

'You really shouldn't speak to Gregory that way, dear boy.'

Harry's heart jumped a mile. He turned to see Albus Dumbledore standing behind him, pulling at his long beard, a thoughtful look in his eyes. The old wizard shook his head, 'Now look. You've gone and hurt his feelings.'

Harry turned back to the tapestry he'd spoken to, and much to his surprise, the lion had fallen to all fours, his once proud head bowed. Harry spared a glance at the other tapestries. They seemed normal (was the Hufflepuff one facing the wrong direction?) but Harry couldn't look at them for long. He'd never seen a tapestry move before.

With a creek and a puff, the ancient headmaster sat down beside Harry, shaking his head. 'I dare say you ought to apologise to him for speaking to him like that.'

Harry looked at the sorrowful lion for a moment, then shook his head, 'I won't. His whole house is falling apart at the seams. I'm ashamed to be one of them.'

The lion looked up at Harry, who suddenly felt as though he could barely meet its gaze. Suddenly flushed and embarrassed to have said such a thing to a tapestry that bore the symbol of the original Gryffindor, his eyes fell to his lap.

'I know you have your reasons for saying such a thing. And I agree. The Gryffindor house is one of individuals. It has something akin to the Slytherin household that you might have noted. It has a order. Certain people whether by blood or skill are `better' than others. You, yourself, have your own rank and level of respect, one you've had since birth. That new student doesn't fit in well with that, does she?'

'No,' Harry had agree. Raven was so unlike anyone he'd ever met before. She was instantly cheerful, a clever liar, possessing a razor sharp wit, and a knowledge of Dark Magic that unnerved even him.

'But there's something I've noticed about Gryffindors, if I am to be any judge.'

Harry nodded.

'They're rather weak without someone to guide them.'

'Like a teacher, sir? Or you, sir?'

Dumbledore hmmed at this. 'It's always better to have someone within. I'm not one to pick sides with any house. And if I did, it would be my old alma mater,' He smiled briefly up at the one of the last two banners. Harry didn't see which. The corner of his eye glittered dangerously, 'And you should know by now that you shouldn't fear that old snake. He's got a wicked tongue, and he'll tell you anything to make you doubt yourself. Remember what I said about that sword, boy. Soon that knowledge will come to bear on you, and you will have to step up and take your place.' At that, he stood with a groan, and rubbed his back. 'Now, where was I off to? Ahh, yes...the kitchen,' He smiled with a flicker of greed in his eyes, 'I hear they're making the most wonderful pudding for tonight.'

Harry smiled as the old wizard headed past him down the stairs. `Gregory' or whatever Dumbledore had referred to him as, was still looking rather forlorn.

'I'll make a deal with you. You help me keep this nonsense from blowing up in Raven's face, and I'll take it back,' He smiled at the proud lion's face, which tilted a fraction to the side. Harry could almost vaguely hear a rumble echo around him. Then he found himself making another pact just as quickly. 'I'll come back and visit. I promise.'

This the mighty lion seemed agreeable to, and after a moment, it stretched and dug its claws in. But rather then posing again, it flopped down and curled into a little ball, promptly falling asleep.