Beast Tribe

January 15, 1993, 2:00 PM, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts

Harry Potter

Harry soared through the chilly January air, his broom slicing through the wind with effortless grace. The biting cold stung at his face, but he paid it no mind, his focus consumed by the exhilaration of flight.

With each twist and turn, Harry pushed himself to the limit. He could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, the thrill of the chase propelling him ever faster and higher.

As he executed a series of precision maneuvers, Harry’s mind was singularly focused on the task at hand. The world around him faded into a blur of colors and shapes, his senses heightened by the sheer intensity of the moment.

In these fleeting moments of pure bliss, he felt truly alive, at one with the broom beneath him and the wind rushing past.

And yet…

Despite the rush of wind against his face and the thrill of flying, Harry couldn’t shake the sense of unease gnawing at the edges of his mind. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his drills, his thoughts kept drifting back to recent events.

An image flashed through his mind— a man’s skull caved in, blood and brain matter everywhere, Astrid’s teeth stained red…

The attack on Absol had left Harry feeling helpless and frustrated, a sense of impotence lingering in the aftermath. No matter how much he or Hagrid wanted to help Adam, he finally understood that there was nothing they could do for him but keep this a secret.

As he soared through the sky, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him like a dark cloud. He was worried, although he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of his anxieties.

Was it fear for Absol’s safety, or concern over what the attack might mean for their own safety?

Whatever the reason, Harry knew that he couldn’t ignore the nagging doubts that plagued him.

“Potter!” Oliver Wood’s voice cut through Harry’s thoughts, pulling him abruptly out of his distracted state. “What’s gotten into you?”

Harry blinked, his mind slowly returning to the present as he turned his broom to face his captain.

“Sorry, Wood.” He muttered, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his focus slip.

But Wood wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, Potter. The match is in three days!” He scolded, his tone stern. “You’re here to train, not daydream. Now, start the drill from scratch.”

Harry’s displeasure was evident as he reluctantly nodded, preparing to restart the drill. Before he could even move back to his initial position, though, Wood had something to add.

“Fred, George.” Wood called out, turning to the Weasley twins who were watching nearby. “Keep Potter so focused on his performance that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else.”

Fred and George exchanged a mischievous grin before nodding eagerly, eyeing Harry much like how a cat would a mouse.

Harry’s heart sank at the prospect of being under constant scrutiny by those two— and worse yet, they’d been given free rein!

Still, he knew better than to argue with his Wood.

With a resigned sigh, he braced himself for the intense focus that awaited him.

Wood is right. Harry thought as he moved back to his initial position. This is for the best, I won’t have time to think about anything else but Quidditch.

Wood gave Harry a moment to gather himself, his expression softening slightly as he waited for the young seeker to regain his composure.

“Are you ready, Potter?” Wood asked, his tone a mix of encouragement and expectation.

Harry nodded, steeling himself for the challenge ahead. With a determined look in his eyes, he signaled his readiness.

Satisfied, Wood released the Snitch into the air once more, setting the golden blur loose to dart and weave through the sky.

With a burst of speed, Harry shot upwards, his Nimbus soaring through the air as he chased after the elusive prize.

Left it went, and so did he; then, to the right. After that, it dove sharply down before abruptly changing its mind and going back the way it came, forcing Harry to swing back up.

Harry struggled to keep up with its movements. Just as he was about to close in on the Snitch, Harry’s keen instincts kicked in, and he veered sharply to the right, narrowly avoiding a speeding Bludger that had been hurtling towards him.

The rush of adrenaline surged through Harry as he deftly dodged the dangerous projectile, his reflexes honed to a fine edge because of all of the practice. With renewed focus, he resumed his pursuit of the Snitch, determined to capture it and prove himself worthy of his position as Gryffindor’s seeker.

“That’s more like it, Potter!” Wood’s voice rang out with satisfaction as Harry successfully navigated another round of drills with precision and determination.

For the next half hour, Harry was swept up in a whirlwind of intense training, his focus unwavering as he pushed himself to the limit under Wood’s watchful eye.

There was no time for rest, no moment to catch his breath, as he moved seamlessly from one drill to the next, his muscles burning with exertion and his mind buzzing with concentration.

But eventually, even Harry’s boundless energy began to wane, and he landed his broom with a weary thud, collapsing onto the snow-covered ground in a heap.

Gasping, he struggled to regain his composure, the cold air biting at his lungs as he fought to catch his breath.

As he lay there, panting and exhausted, Harry heard the crunch of snow beneath approaching footsteps. He turned to see Wood standing before him, holding out a canteen of water with a knowing smile.

“Here, Potter.” Wood said, his tone softened with a hint of respect. “You’ve earned it.”

Harry eagerly accepted the canteen from Wood, his throat parched from the intense training session. Without hesitation, he took a long gulp of water, drinking greedily to quench his thirst.

But he drank too quickly, and before he knew it, he was choking on the water, sputtering and coughing as it went down the wrong way.

Wood shook his head in exasperation, a bemused expression on his face as he watched Harry struggle to catch his breath yet again.

After a few moments, Harry managed to regain control of his breathing, albeit with a few lingering coughs. He sheepishly handed the canteen back to Wood, embarrassed by his momentary lapse in judgment.

Before he could dwell on it further, however, the Weasley twins appeared, joining them with easy smiles and playful banter.

“Hey, you two!” Fred called out as he and George approached, their faces flushed from the exertion but their spirits high. “Good show with your evasion, Harry.”

“Right you are Fred. We’re about to head back to the castle.” George chimed in, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Ron’s likely waiting for you, eager to learn about the drills.”

Harry chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, he’s probably chomping at the bit.” He replied, sharing the amusement with his friends. “I bet he’s dying to know how well they worked— he devised them, after all.”

The four of them shared a laugh. Harry’s gaze drifted to his team’s chasers, who looked equally satisfied with their performance. Ron had done well with the drills, and Harry couldn’t wait to share the details with him.

With a sense of contentment and anticipation, Harry bid farewell to Wood and the twins, feeling grateful for their company and support. 

As he made his way back to the castle, he couldn’t help but look forward to the warmth and camaraderie of the Great Hall, where he would join his friends for the afternoon meal.

The cold air nipped at his cheeks as he walked, but Harry hardly noticed, his thoughts consumed by the prospect of a hot meal.

With a smile on his face and a lightness in his step, Harry pushed open the doors of the Castle and made his way towards the Great Hall, eager for the comfort and companionship that awaited him within.

As Harry entered the Great Hall, he passed by a group of students from Mahoutokoro, their vibrant robes drawing his attention before he made his way to the Gryffindor table.

He took his place beside Ron and Hermione, who were engaged in a heated discussion.

He wondered what it was, this time.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, sliding onto the bench and raising an eyebrow at the pair.

Ron glanced at Hermione, an expression of mild annoyance crossing his face.

“Ah, Hermione here thinks I eat like a troll.” He said, poking at his plate with his fork.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. “It’s not just me, Ron. You practically inhale your food, you know.”

Ron shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Well, can you blame me? The food here is too good to take my time with.” He replied with a grin. “I just have to have it all.”

Harry chuckled, amused by their ongoing banter. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this particular fight, and he doubted it would be the last.

Still, despite their differences, he knew that Ron and Hermione’s friendship had developed well since the time they had met, even if they sometimes instigated arguments over the most trivial things.

As he began to settle in, Ron glanced at him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “What do you think, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I think I just want to eat.” He replied, reaching for a plate and loading it with food. “You two can sort out your table manners without pulling me into it.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged amused glances before turning their attention back to their own meals, the earlier argument momentarily forgotten in favor of enjoying the delicious food spread out before them.

Harry savored each bite of the tender roast chicken, its savory juices mingling with the perfectly seasoned potatoes on his plate. The warmth of the food spread through him, chasing away the lingering chill of the winter air. It was a simple meal, but after the grueling training session earlier in the day, it felt like a feast fit for a king.

The comforting familiarity of the food filled him with a sense of contentment, reminding him of the simple joys of life at Hogwarts.

By the time he reached the last bite, Harry felt a pleasant warmth spreading through him, both from the hearty meal and the company of his friends. As he leaned back in his seat, feeling pleasantly full and satisfied, Ron’s comment broke through his reverie.

“You look pretty tired, mate.” Ron observed, casting a concerned glance in Harry’s direction.

Harry chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, training with Wood always takes it out of me.” He admitted, feeling a yawn threatening to escape. “But it was worth it for a meal like this.”

“Must have been fairly intense.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it,” Harry replied with a tired groan, rubbing his eyes as he recalled the intense training session with Oliver Wood. “He didn’t let me off the hook for a second.”

Ron raised an eyebrow, his expression curious.

“Anything go wrong?” He asked, concern evident in his voice. “Maybe my drill was bad?”

Harry hesitated for a moment, the memory of Absol’s attack lingering in the back of his mind. He considered telling Ron about what had happened, but Adam’s words echoed in his mind, urging him to keep it a secret for now.

“Nah, nothing too out of the ordinary.” Harry replied with a casual shrug, masking the turmoil beneath the surface. “Your drills were great. I think I got a little cold at the start, but once I warmed up it all went well.”

Ron nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics as they finished their meal.

As Harry joined in the banter and laughter with his friends, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered within him, a silent reminder of the secrets he carried.

He reflected on Adam’s past secrecy, a newfound understanding washed over him.

His adoptive brother had said as much when questioned, but Harry now understood his reasoning far better, even if he still disagreed with it.

The events surrounding Absol’s attack had made it all too clear— the danger was real, and it could strike at any moment.

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, his closest friends and allies. They were like extended family to him, and the thought of exposing them to the same danger that had threatened Absol filled him with dread.

As far as he knew, they weren’t directly targeted by the Blackthorn family, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Not so clear cut when you’re the one keeping the secret, is it? Adam’s words came back, almost taunting him.

Harry shook his head and focused on his meal. He would respect Adam’s request for now, but eventually he would tell his friends everything.

They deserved to know, after all.

oooo

Same Time, Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts

Adam Clarke

The air was crisp and cool, carrying the pure scent of pine. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

All around, the forest seemed to hum with a sense of tranquility. Birds and other small rodents flitted among the branches, their melodious cries filling the air with a peaceful symphony. The gentle breeze added to the serene ambiance, creating a small but tranquil oasis amidst the wild and untamed landscape.

It was a place of respite, a chance to immerse oneself in nature’s peaceful embrace.

The stillness of the forest was abruptly shattered by the sharp yelp of pain from Absol. My heart clenched with concern as I quickly reached out to caress her neck, offering reassurance in soothing tones.

“It’s okay, Absol.” I murmured softly, my voice a gentle whisper. “You’ll be all right. I’m here.”

I continued to stroke her gently, offering words of comfort as I examined her injuries. The guilt weighed heavily on my heart as I realized that my actions had caused her pain.

Perhaps I had not done the deed myself, but my actions against the Blackthorn boy had led to the attack on her. The blame fell squarely upon my shoulders, and there was nothing I could use as a way to soften the blow it had on my mind.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered again, my voice filled with remorse. “I didn’t mean to get you hurt. Please forgive me.”

Absol’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world fell away, leaving the two of us. Her trust in me was unwavering, and she was still ready to face anything as long as I was by her side.

It made what I had to do next even worse.

With a heavy sigh, I gently explained to Absol that I needed to apply a bit more Essence of Murtlap to her wound. She whined softly, her eyes reflecting both pain and trust, but I knew it was necessary for her healing.

“It’s going to be okay, Absol.” I murmured reassuringly, my voice a soothing balm to her troubled spirit. “Just a little more, and then the pain will ease.”

Hopefully.

Her gaze locked with mine in a silent plea, but I remained steadfast, determined to help her through this ordeal. Slowly, I began to apply the healing salve, doing my best to be as gentle as possible despite the discomfort it caused her.

Absol quivered in pain beneath my touch, but she bravely endured, wading through the agony she felt with an almost stoic expression on her animalistic face.

Hopefully her recovery would be swift and she’d return to the sprightly young Thestral I knew her to be. “Don’t worry, my friend. Soon you’ll be soaring the skies with Helena again.”

That made her perk up a little, and so I continued to work on applying the healing salve to Absol’s wound, my thoughts once again turned to the source of her pain— the Blackthorns. It was their malicious attack that had left her injured and suffering, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and guilt that gnawed at my conscience.

Despite knowing logically that I couldn’t be everywhere at once, that I couldn’t protect Absol from every danger, I couldn’t help but feel like I had failed her. I had vowed to keep her safe, to shield her from harm, and yet here she was, injured and in pain because of my inability to stop the Blackthorns’ attack.

A sense of helplessness washed over me, mingling with the anger and frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. I clenched my jaw in frustration, my hands trembling slightly as I continued to tend to Absol’s wound.

Absol’s silent communication washed over me like a gentle breeze, her feelings of love and trust enveloping me in a comforting embrace. Without words, she reassured me that the blame did not rest on my shoulders alone, that I could not be expected to play the role of bodyguard every moment of every day.

No one could.

I felt a pang of sadness at the hint of shame that lingered within her, the unspoken acknowledgment that she likely blamed herself for the situation we found ourselves in.

Even as I sensed her self-doubt, however, I knew deep down that it was unfounded. Absol was not to blame for the cruel actions of others, just as I was not solely responsible for protecting her from every danger.

“Maybe…” I said slowly as she turned her head towards me as I finished applying the salve. “Maybe we should think about having you go and live with Sirius— at least until I can figure this situation out.”

~No!~ Absol’s refusal to leave her herd behind was not unexpected, yet the sheer vehemence of her answer hit me with the force of a train. ~My family will keep me safe.~

I followed her gaze toward the Thestral herd, their attempts to give us space faltering as curiosity got the better of them. The scene tugged at my heartstrings. I couldn’t fault her loyalty to her kin, especially considering her confidence in their ability to keep her safe, which stemmed from the deep bond she shared with them.

It was clear to anyone that Absol belonged with them, just as I belonged with my friends at Hogwarts. As much as I wished I could keep her safe by my side, I knew that separating her from her herd and the home she’d always known would only cause her distress.

With a soft sigh, I leaned forward to press my forehead against hers, a silent gesture. I would do everything in my power to ensure her safety.

~Besides, the poachers are dead.~ Absol said, as if that settled the matter.

In a way, it did, I supposed; without any news from either the school or their hirelings, the Blackthorns would assume that security would be increased in response to the attack, and therefore shift their perceptions to do something else.

Of course, I had a different idea in mind on how to deal with the issue. Maybe it wasn’t the smart way, but it was the only way which made sense to me.

I focused back on the herd, my mind pushing those particular thoughts to the back of my mind. Absol’s reassurance brought a small sense of relief, but I couldn’t shake off the unease that lingered in the back of my mind, though this time it was about something completely different.

The threads.

Even after all this time, I still hadn’t figured out just what soul threads actually were, and how they functioned. The Thestrals seemed to know; they found me fascinating, and yet they feared my connection to their unique ability. It was disconcerting in more ways than one.

As I pondered Absol’s words, I realized that perhaps it wasn’t just my ability to see soul threads that unsettled them. It was likely a combination of factors, including my status as a human and the fact that my own soul thread was not bound to me.

It’s odd. Another thought occurred. They’d always been wary of me, even before my eye had shifted. Were they aware of my power before I got it? Was my thread always unbound?

I had no answer to either question, but I figured it was safe to assume the positive in both cases.

As I glanced at Absol, a new flood of questions surged within me.

The concept of the soul threads remained shrouded in mystery. I hesitated, wondering if it was futile to seek answers from Absol, who, despite her wisdom and intelligence, was still so very young compared to the elders.

Nevertheless, the urge to delve deeper into the topic finally overwhelmed my reservations.

“Absol.” I began, my voice betraying a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. “Can you tell me more about the soul threads?”

Absol turned her milky white eyes towards me, her expression contemplative. ~You’re just trying to distract me, aren’t you?~

“Is it working?” I said, smiling.

~Hmph! The soul threads are the essence of all living beings. They bind us to the Cycle.~ She explained in her silent yet profound way. ~They connect us to each other and to the world around us. We can see them, though all others cannot. All are bound, except…~

“Me.” I said. Her words resonated within me, stirring up more questions. “And we can only see them because we have experienced that which most creatures cannot hope to understand.”

~World Between. Veiled Lands.~

For a moment, I found myself in that strange world, staring out at the corrupted soul threads forming what I thought had been auroras in the distance.

“The Abyss.”

~Yes.~ Absol said. ~And you are not bound to it; you have escaped Abyss.~

As she spoke, my mismatched eyes flitted upward to my own soul thread. It was like a free string of pale silver light, undulating freely in the air with no rhyme or reason. It almost reminded me of my chains, in a way.

Absol nodded, saying nothing.

“Indeed, the threads of the living and the dead intertwine in ways that are beyond our comprehension.” I mused softly. “My connection to this world is there, otherwise I wouldn’t have a soul thread in my general orbit. There is still some binding there, though it isn’t much.”

Once again, Absol kept quiet, content to let me go through my own musings.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” I remark, a hint of wonder in my voice. “To think that something so intangible could hold such significance. Still, I can’t make heads or tails of any of it.”

~Existence is strange.~ Absol said, and though her words were unhelpful, they still made me smile.

“And what about the threads of fate…” I mumbled to myself, shaking my head.

Absol’s confusion leaked through our bond, her milky white eyes searching mine for clarification.

~Threads of fate?~ She repeated, her tone tinged with curiosity.

I hesitated for a moment, uncertain how to explain the concept that had been lingering in the recesses of my mind.

“I saw something recently.” I began slowly, choosing my words with care. “Someone telling a prophecy, perhaps. I saw threads different than any I’d ever encountered, forming a shield around the Seer. I doubt any spell could have broken that thing— not even a Killing Curse. Do you know anything about it?”

As I spoke, I became aware of the intense scrutiny of the elder Thestrals nearby, their gazes piercing through the few bits of brush. It was a disconcerting sensation, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew something I didn’t.

Absol’s attention shifted to her parents as well, her expression unreadable.

“You think they know something?” I said, feeling a sudden bit of hopefulness.

~Our herd is ancient.~ She said, more to herself than to me. ~Our secrets are passed down from elder to elder, some perhaps lost to the ebb and flow of time. Maybe…~

I nodded in silent agreement, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

And so Absol called out to them, chirping incessantly and causing the lot of them to go still for a few seconds. The imposing figure of the lead Thestral, Alpha, approached us with a significant trot.

He loomed over us as he emitted a series of guttural squawks, his milky eyes fixed intently on Absol. She responded with a defiant chirp, her body tensing with frustration.

I strained to comprehend the exchange between them through body language and tone of voice, but their communication remained a mystery to me. Absol’s annoyance pulsed through our bond, however, which told me that she wasn’t having much luck.

She made another plea, but Alpha’s response was sharp, his tone carrying an air of authority that brooked no argument. Absol rumbled in indignation, her body shivering with anger.

I reached out a hand to soothe her, but she shrugged off my touch, her focus squarely on the imposing figure before us. It was clear that this was a matter of pride for her, a clash of wills that she was determined to win.

As the argument between Absol and the lead Thestral escalated, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settling over the clearing.

I got up and stepped forward, my voice firm as I addressed the lead Thestral and Absol.

“I don’t understand why we’re fighting over this.” I began, his tone earnest and frustrated. “This information could be crucial for all of us. If I can better understand my abilities, I can help protect Absol and the rest of the herd.”

The lead Thestral regarded me with a piercing gaze, his dark eyes betraying no hint of emotion. For a long moment, there was silence, broken only by the soft sound of crunching snow beneath booted feet and bare hooves. Then, with a dismissive snort, the Alpha turned away, his message clear.

I watched him go with no small amount of annoyance, but settled back down to help Absol. I wasn’t going to get anything done with the herd, that was for sure.

And so, I was taken aback by Absol’s sudden content expression, feeling a surge of confusion amidst my disappointment. My brow furrowed in bewilderment.

“Why are you suddenly so happy?” I asked, unable to grasp the shift in her demeanor. “I was just dismissed without any consideration.”

Absol nudged me again, her eyes reflecting a sense of calm assurance.

~Our Alpha has been known to deal harshly with those who are a threat to the tribe. So why would he simply turn away from you?~ Her voice came to me softly, and content, banishing away any retort I had in response.

She chirped softly, a reassuring tone in her voice as she communicated through our bond.

~The fact that the Alpha chose not to harm you speaks volumes.~ She explained. ~He must have had a significant amount of respect for you. Otherwise, his reaction would have been much more severe.~

As Absol’s words sank in, my confusion began to increase.

“What?” I said. “This is him liking me?”

~Never said he likes you.~ Absol said, and that made me laugh.

“Think he’ll actually tell us something if I did get him to like me?”

~Probably not.~ Absol said, though she didn’t sound very sure. ~I don’t know. Maybe. He likes the Big Man enough.~

As I sat down beside her, I went over the situation again. True, the herd viewed me as a neutral entity, so it made sense that they didn’t trust me beyond helping the one member of their herd I was attached to.

What if I earned their trust, somehow, though? It was something to think about.

Certainly better than wallowing in self-pity.