This choice: Kitsune circled above Hogwarts until he saw Harry praticing on his broom. • Go Back...Chapter #11Kitsune circled above Hogwarts until he saw Har... by: Mr. George   Kitsune was exhausted by the time he reached the castle. However, he observed his target out on the Quidditch field. He didn't immediately dive down, instead circling high in the air until he was sure that Harry was alone. He kept going for five minutes without seeing any other students either practicing with him or observing him. Kitsune was well aware of how unforgiving his mistress was, so was willing to wait longer.
On his broom Harry had spotted the owl when he first arrived. But an owl on a delivery wasn't that unusual. He was practicing his bludger dodging and didn't want anyone else in harms way. As time wore on, he noticed that the same owl was still there. He didn't recognise it. His seeker-sharp eyes were excellent but this certainly wasn't Hegwig or anyone else's that he knew.
His heart leaped at the thought it might be from his uncle. A strange bird behaving oddly ...cautiously... that had to be from his uncle the escaped prisoner. He landed the broom with his heart racing faster than it had during his flight.
Kitsune's sharp eyes picked out something odd. The boy was beckoning him down to land. In a smooth glide he descended, his wide wings showing his plummage magnificently, he circled lower and lower, until he was able to land on Harry's outstretched arm.
Harry ruffled his head feathers, and Kitsune relished the attention. He rarely received kind gestures, and basked in them. Taking time to compliment him on his swift delivery.
As Harry took the letter, the owl felt a pang of guilt, that was tempered by the fear of his mistress. As the young Gryffindor broke the seal and started to read, he took to the air. The soft touches and kind words wouldn't last ... not once Bellatrix's spell started to work.
The paper was hot in Harry's fingers as he read it. As the bird took to the air, he wished he'd given it some food. He wanted it to stay, so he could send some message back... some encouragement to his uncle.
He didn't read it very far. The pain from his fingers was getting worse. His eyes caught something that gave him pause. A break in the clouds allowed a shaft of light to hit the paper, and that revealed a watermark.
The watermark was the Death-Eater's mark.
Quickly he dropped it to the ground like a live snake.
His heart was now racing for an entirely different reason. The joy washed away in an icy wave of dread. The damned thing was cursed. That much was clear, the pain in Harry's fingers was the pain of them transforming. He looked at his hands, turning them back and forth. They were slimmer,... -feminine- Harry realised. The palms were soft and not used to physical work. As he turned them back over, he spotted the nail polish. A glossy midnight black on each fingertip, each nail flawlessly done.
As the pain shifted up his arms, Harry slid his sleeves up. It served to confirm his fears. His forearms were slender and lacked even his toned definition.
His Quidditch uniform wouldn't roll any further up, and Harry felt the itching, burning pain head towards his shoulders. A second wave of magic spread from his fingers, and a brief 'Oh Shit' escaped Harry's lips. A lacy thread was weaving it's way back and forth across his arms. The pattern soon becoming clearer as the fingerless gloves formed. With rapid, jerky gestures, he tried to wipe away the forming gloves. The thread merely took the strain and returned to their original place, their original pattern. He raked his sharpened fingernails over them, he drew blood.
Biting his lower lip he continued, but again the magic was prepared, only a few thread were snapped by his actions. Even those reattached themselves. The pattern remained intact. They finished their work as the pain reached past Harry's shoulders. He gave a gasp as it reached inside his lungs.
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The separate pains from each arm joined together like a spike. A spike driven deep into his spine, deep between the shoulder blades. From there it radiated outwards. A rasp came to his breathing as it rose up his throat, and as it spread down his spine, and through his chest, Harry sobbed. The fear and pain working together, he knew... he dreaded what was coming.... How this would end...
As it became too much he collapsed to the ground. A shriek came from his lips. It was high and shrill, promising a future where that would be his... her normal register.
The pain was unaffected by Harry's tortured scream, and worked on relentlessly.
The new tickle danced around his neck, as a lace collar started to form there too. Harry couldn't even summon the strength to battle it, as he felt it form there.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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