Test Drive
Chapter 25
Test Drive
Harry spent most of his days dividing his time between tending to Buckbeak’s training and care, practicing his own swordplay with the other Stark men, and answering his lord’s orders when required. Thankfully, Lord Stark rarely called for him, which gave Harry more time to work with the hippogriff.
He was informed the day after they arrived at the Red Keep that there was to be a tourney held in honor of Ned’s new position as Hand of the King. Collectively, there would be eighty thousand gold dragons in prizes: forty thousand to the champion, twenty thousand to the runner-up and twenty thousand to the winning archer. Many people and great knights from all across the land would be visiting to take part. The temptation of the winnings was enough for Harry to want to hasten his own knighthood so he also could compete, that was until Ned informed him that the king expected Buckbeak to be presentable by then, as he intended to show him off to the visiting people and nobles.
With such a handsome beast as an attraction, the attendance was sure to double, especially among the peasants.
Harry wasn’t sure if he could have him flying-worthy by the deadline, but he resolved to at least make him presentable, provided the tourney paddock they were given was spacious enough.
In the meantime, Harry did various research on falconry and equestrian training, merging those subjects into what he already knew and had learned about hippogriffs from Hagrid and just by interacting with Buckbeak so far. It helped that a bond had already grown between the two and Harry could now approach him without needing to bow all the time.
He began keeping a journal detailing his own experience and discoveries, marking the progress as well as the small details that he noticed about Buckbeak personally, like how he loved being scratched along his jawline, or how he was attracted to the glares that shiny objects could cast on the ground when they reflected the sunlight.
In time, Harry started to have a wider understanding for Buckbeak as an individual, his personality quirks as well as his likes and dislikes in general.
For one thing, he liked early mornings and would make sure Harry also was up in time to enjoy the morning, too, even if the youth wanted different. He preferred ferrets to rats, but would still eat them if there was no other choice, although, that didn’t stop him from leaving the rats last for any meal that provided both. Fish were tolerated and he would also eat larger animals like boars or deer if he hunted them himself, but cats he absolutely detested and he refused to catch or hunt any of the many strays around the keep.
He liked it when Lady and Nymeria came to visit him and they would often play together by chasing or rolling around on the lawn together, affording Harry a moment to catch up with either Arya or Sansa, depending on who’s wolf had come to visit for the day. They were some of the few people who had been authorized to visit, since their wolves were creatures that Buckbeak had taken a liking to. Ironically, he didn't get along very well with horses, but the wolves were decent enough company, and they kept him from getting lonely. Sansa tended to keep her distance from the hippogriff when she accompanied Lady, but Arya frequently helped tend to him whenever she got permission from Harry. She was always happy to change his bandages, clean his feathers and shower him with compliments if she ever got the chance. She had even tried once to make Harry promise to not go flying on Buckbeak without her, but she had said it during dinner and within earshot of her father and he had firmly declared that neither she nor Sansa would be riding on him until it was proven to be safe, much to her dismay.
Offhandedly, Harry installed a swing for them from one of the trees when they came, so they'd have somewhere to sit that wasn't in the grass when they were outside, as they both had received new southern-styled dresses and didn't want to get them dirty. That had been mostly for Sansa's benefit as Arya didn't care so much about clothes, pretty or not, but the swing became so popular with them both that Arya didn't care what the reason for its construction was. She happily swung back and forth on it any chance she got, declaring it made her feel like she was already flying. Most times only one would be there to visit him, but sometimes they got there at the same time and there would be a small argument about who would use the swing first.
Sansa would talk about the prince and how much she liked him and how lucky she felt to be engaged to him, while Arya would talk about her progress with her dancing master (which was a Braavosi style of swordplay) that her father had hired to teach her. Harry could say he preferred listening to the latter of the girls but was too polite to tell the first that he thought her intended was a massive prat.
Both girls had tried to make plans with him to watch the upcoming tourney together and he would have liked to accept, but Harry ultimately had to turn both down when he told them that the king had different plans for him and Buckbeak. They had made identical looks of disappointment but understood just the same.
With deliberate tending, the bandages over Buckbeak’s wounds were soon removed and he eventually began to move his wings normally. Around that same time, his saddle was finished. Buckbeak was a bit less thrilled about putting it on. However, he tended to be more cooperative about new things when a tribute of rodents or fish was offered to him. Buckbeak ate from a large basket as Harry fastened the saddle in place. His heart was racing with excitement as he made additional checks to himself and the steed, to be sure there was nothing loose or out of place.
This was the first time he was flying in so long. After falling from the hippogriff those years ago and causing the accident that had brought Harry, Hermione and, unknowingly, Buckbeak to this strange and brutal world of Westeros, he had no intention of leaving anything to chance again. Wearing his favorite gambeson jacket and leather gloves for added insulation, he mounted the hippogriff and fastened his safety straps, tugging them experimentally to be sure they were secure. Once satisfied, he patted Buckbeak gently and urged him forward for a test drive.
“Alright, Bucky, today’s the day. We’re going to take this nice and slow, alright?”
Buckbeak looked quite eager as he cantered to the opposite end of the paddock. He needed ample distance and speed for a decent take-off. With some reassurance, Harry lowered himself down and braced for it. The guards surrounding the paddock all looked towards him with deep fascination, no doubt waiting for the anticipated take-off. Then Buckbeak was racing off, his wings fanned out and Harry felt a lurch as they arose into the air.
The ground and the Red Keep were swiftly left behind and Harry felt a breath of fresh air sent from the sky to caress his face. He sucked in a great gasp as he embraced the feeling of weightlessness and freedom entirely.
“Yes!”
It had been far, far too long.
Buckbeak sailed high, gaining altitude with each flap of his wings and Harry felt a frustration, he hadn’t even realized he held, lift from his shoulders. This feeling was exactly how he remembered, if not better.
His heart was pounding and excitement filled his every sense.
With a command, Harry urged him higher and they soon found King’s Landing shrinking to the size of a model and he wasn’t able to see the people below at all.
Releasing the handlebar on the saddle, he reached out and touched a puffy cloud they were passing under. It was misty and smelled like rain. Feeling confident now, he let go with both hands and felt the wind whip and brush under his arms as if he had wings himself.
The air was cold all the way up in the clouds and hit him so hard that it stung, but he didn’t care. He could freeze to death and this feeling of total freedom would all be worth it.
Buckbeak must have understood as he took a sudden dive. Propelled by his own gravity, he raced the length of a massive cumulous until they broke from the sky and were flying down the path of a wide river.
Harry wondered which one it was. Probably Blackwater.
He spotted a band of travelers taking water from the river and their buckets and skins dropped from their hands as Harry rushed by them atop his silver-grey hippogriff. He flashed a smile to them and waved at their gawking faces. Then they both ascended into the sky again and left the men and women far behind.
While they were flying, Buckbeak had taken the opportunity to go hunting. It had been too long for him as well and he was in dire need of some good exercise. They sailed over the trees of the city forests before Buckbeak gave a sudden dive and Harry watched as he took down a boar with a single slash of his talons.
It all happened so fast that Harry almost didn’t realize he was not the only occupant that Buckbeak now carried. There was furious squealing from the pig in the hippogriff’s claws, but with one audible “snap” that was heard even over the wind’s roar in his ears, and the swine went suddenly silent.
They stopped only once they came upon a steep cliff, overlooking the land for miles around. Buckbeak landed and swiftly began to tear into his kill. It was a bloody mess; one Harry would sooner like to escape.
So, he unclasped his safety belts and slid from the saddle.
His feet hit the ground and wobbled under his weight. Apparently, his body would need some time getting used to the sensation of flying once again. He also took notice of the other discomforts he hadn’t accounted for when riding a steed like Buckbeak. His ears had popped and gone numb with the drastic change in temperature when their altitude switched back and forth as they dived and ascended. His hands were also sore with blisters from gripping the saddle’s handlebar so hard, and his thighs were stiff and shaky, though thankfully not as bad as they once had been, since he already had experience with riding horses by now. And don’t even get him started on how his face felt.
No doubt it was deep red thanks to the force of the wind whipping against his bare skin. It also stung with how much he had grinned from ear to ear as they flew high and free above the clouds.
While his jacket at least protected him and kept him warm, he’d have to commission some protective gear, specifically some light-weight leather armor that was form-fitting and would protect him against the elements. The normal gambeson that he wore, which was common among northerners, was warm enough but it was also heavy and not very flexible when he tried to move in the saddle. He would have preferred having something a little more accommodating for swiftly changing directions when needed. Something more like his old Quidditch gear.
Buckbeak would be a while in devouring his kill, so Harry grabbed his saddlebag and pulled out his notebook, sketching out some designs for said armor. On further consideration, he decided it would be a good idea to create something for the king as well.
It proved difficult when Harry had to consider Robert’s wide belly and it was doubly frustrating having to tiptoe around his sketches so he didn’t unintentionally insult the king just by drawing what he saw.
The traps of nobility were more than frustrating, and in the end, he tore out the sketch and decided that the royal tailors could be held accountable for measuring for their liege and designing his gear.
When Harry flew back to the Red Keep it was well past dusk. Unfortunately, he had gotten a little lost while flying and added a compass and a map to the list of things required for their next flight.
He almost entirely missed the kingsguard who was waiting for him once they landed. Ser Barristan Selmy stood at the edge of the enclosure, watching as the beast arrived with his rider. Harry almost didn’t notice him, as he was more concerned with Buckbeak’s care, namely removing his saddle and having him brushed down. He only got his saddle off, just as Selmy walked forward, keeping a safe distance from Buckbeak but still able to be heard by the boy.
“Master Rider.”
“Ser Barristan,” Harry said in greeting. Of all the kingsguard, he liked Ser Barristan the best. It helped that Buckbeak wasn’t as hostile to him as he was for the others when they tried to approach.
“I see you’ve acquired a saddle for your steed,” the old knight noted.
“Yes. I took him out for a test drive and was just about to make a report on his progress to the king. I just wanted to get him brushed down and watered really quick.”
“It seems you knew what I was here for then. Allow me to escort you there when you are ready.”
“Sure.” He would have preferred the knight leave so Harry could quickly be done with all the tedious chores through some simple magic, but with the muggle audience, it looked like he would have to do it all by hand this time.
It took longer than normal, but once completed, Harry left Buckbeak under the supervision of the guards that surrounded the enclosure. He followed Barristan into the keep all the way to the king’s personal chambers. The kingsguard knocked and announced their arrival and Robert called to enter.
At the moment, the king was busy eating the final course of his dinner. So, Harry stood before him and gave his report, ignoring his own hunger pains as it suddenly hit him that he hadn’t yet eaten any meals that day and the neglect to himself was catching up with him. He’d give this report quick and head to the Small Hall for some food.
“I saw you’ve got the steed flying,” the king noted. He must have seen Harry taking off.
“Yes, your grace. I took him out for a test flight, to make sure the saddle was secure for flying. I also took notice that some protective gear would be wise. Namely some form-fitting leather armor.”
“Leather armor?”
“Yes.” And he held up his notebook to show the king what he had envisioned. Robert beckoned him forward and Harry opened the book on the table, showing him the drawings he had come up with. “I sketched up some designs while I was out. It’ll be lighter than average metal armor and make it streamline to account for speed and reduce wind resistance while up there. Buckbeak flies fast, your grace. If your tailor would provide me with your measurements, I could contact the tanner and get it taken care of.”
“I’ll see about bringing him in the day after tomorrow then and we’ll have that made. How is his progress for presentation at the tourney?”
“Very well. When will it be held again?”
“Three days from now.”
“I think he’ll be fine.”
Robert nodded and Harry took his sketches back. The king must’ve thought that was the end of it, but something had occurred to Harry just then.
“Your grace, there’s something else.”
“What?” He seemed impatient now.
“Well, forgive me, but Buckbeak doesn’t know you. Hippogriffs are very proud beasts, they’re clever but also easily offended. Might I suggest it could be beneficial to spend a few days in his company just for you to grow familiar with him, and him you? That way, there are fewer surprises between the two of you when it is time to fly.”
King Robert looked annoyed by the thought. Harry didn’t know why. What he knew from gossiping by the Stark’s men and the few servants he came across, Robert didn’t do much of anything during his role as king, not even administrative duties expected of his rank, hence why he came so far north to ask Ned to do the work for him.
If he was honest to himself, Harry didn’t like him. He wasn’t a good king. He cared little for ruling and only slightly more for his family. He was an alcoholic and a bigger whore than the ones he took to his bed. He cheated openly on his queen and gave her very little affection. It was no wonder his wife was so cold and their eldest son so vile.
But he had to remember that Buckbeak’s life was owed to Robert. If he was a worse king, then Cersei and Joffrey would have one of his wings each gracing their rooms on a wall. But he also knew that it was only out of Robert’s own selfishness that the king agreed to spare him at all. So long as Harry continued to sell his usefulness and intrigue, then Buckbeak would live, if only at the king’s pleasure.
Robert didn’t seem keen about Harry’s suggestion at first, but then Barristan spoke.
“Your grace, if I may speak, it may prove to be a rewarding experience for you. The ancient Targaryens needed to bond with their own dragons to attain their trust. I am sure your engagements on the morrow will understand if you are absent.”
With arguably his best knight vouching for Harry’s idea, Robert could find no reason to refuse the proposal.
“Ah, very well then. I’ll be seeing you sometime midday tomorrow, boy.”
“As you wish, your grace.” Harry bowed once and then set off for the kitchens. He was starving.
On his way to get his supper, Harry was stopped when he passed a finely dressed man carrying a large tome in the corridor and he saw from the corner of his eye as the man’s gaze did a doubletake at his passing.
“Potter! Am I correct?”
Harry stopped and looked back at the man. Very few people called him by name, at least none who didn’t know him already. This stranger was short for a man, perhaps five-four, with a slender frame enhanced by the coat he wore which was tailored to his exact measurements and held by a broach of a mockingbird on his collar. His features were sharp, and his hair was dark, with threads of grey running through it. Though his thin mouth smiled, Harry couldn’t help but notice how his eyes did not.
“May I help you, my lord?” He asked, as courteous as he could manage.
“I saw you fly off with your steed this morning. Quite an impressive sight.”
“Um… thank you.”
“And quite the impressive creature, if I can say so. I saw it only at a distance, but it was indeed something to behold.”
Harry’s polite smile remained even as he wanted to groan. Was this man only intending to waste his time with empty praise? He wished he would hurry it up so he could find some much-needed food.
“Oh, I apologize, in my excitement I forgot to introduce myself. I am Lord Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin.”
Great, a lord on the king’s council. Now Harry needed to be doubly courteous. But the name sounded familiar, and not just because he was one of the city’s most important men.
“I am pleased to meet you, my lord. Lord Stark and you work closely for the welfare of the realm, so I should thank you.”
“Indeed, we are all servants of the realm. I see you yourself are working towards its future as well. Becoming a knight is quite an honorable path.”
“Uh yes. I suppose that would be no surprise to you.”
“No, no surprise at all. You have the temperament for it, from what I hear.”
On a better day, Harry disliked someone he didn’t know already making an assumption about his so-called temperament, but Lord Baelish was giving him the same feeling he got the first time he met Lucius Malfoy. Without a doubt Lord Baelish was up to something, and this praise was basically empty and meant only to further whatever agenda he was pushing.
Harry played along just the same, though. “I’m honored. Have you heard a lot about my temperament, my lord?”
“I admit, the stories surrounding you are somewhat… obscure. It’s not every Lorathi stranger that gets adopted by a highlord, much less a regional warden. To do it twice though; you and your friend must be quite special.”
Harry forced an easy smile. He absolutely loathed these noble word traps, so rather than add anything to the lord’s statement, Harry steered it in another direction. “You’d have to ask Lord Stark about that.”
“Indeed, it’s not every knight that trains a winged creature for our very king. Oh, forgive me, aspiring knight.”
With that enunciated correction, Harry suddenly got the feeling that he knew why Lord Baelish had stopped him. He continued to smile politely all the same.
“Yes, not a knight yet,” he agreed.
“Most boys like you would be squiring for another knight.”
“I was a squire at Winterfell and that was the original plan when I came here, but as you know, his grace tasked me with a different assignment and the hippogriff takes up much of my time, leaving little room for me to attend to the needs of a decorated knight already.”
“And time is exceedingly valuable, isn’t it.”
Harry was glad he said that because it gave him the escape he needed. “It is, and speaking of time, if there is nothing else you wish to discuss, my lord, I’ll bid you a good day.”
“One more thing,” Baelish said quickly, keeping him trapped in this endless conversation. “I just wanted to extend my support and invite you to please seek me out if there is anything you require.”
Now Harry’s smile dropped at the utterance of those words. Both Lord Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle had said the very same thing right after his arrival to the capitol. What was with these small council members offering their support to him? He didn’t think it was anything important at first but now he definitely had to inform Lord Stark of their offers.
“Funny. You’re hardly the first person to say that to me since I’ve been here,” Harry noted out loud.
Baelish’s smile deepened. “King’s Landing is a good place to make friends. An aspiring knight is sure to have need of some friends from time to time.”
Now Harry squinted at him with visual suspicion. “And what’s the cost of such friendships?”
“Oh, it can depend on the friend.”
Harry decided not to ask for further explanation because he had a feeling Baelish wouldn’t give him a straight answer yet again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lord Baelish. I await the day I must pay for your friendship.”
“No fear of that, I would never dream to ask a member of house Stark for anything dishonorable.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. Well, if that’s all, I will take my leave now.”
“Of course. Farewell, young ward. I’m sure there’s a hot pie waiting for you in the kitchens.”
Harry made his escape, but those final words definitely left him feeling suspicious. Whatever he did, he was not having pie for dinner.
Indeed, there was a hot meat pie waiting for him when he got to the Small Hall, courtesy of the cooks who had been waiting in anticipation for his arrival, yet Harry managed to politely decline it and asked to make his own meal. They probably would have refused had there been more people having their supper, but thanks to the hour, everyone had gone. Certainly, they were quite hesitant about it, but he managed to convince them just the same and dismissed their services for the evening.
Harry grabbed an apron and chose his ingredients. Starting first with the mustard sauce, he ground some seeds into a fine powder and added salt, turmeric, and fresh herbs. Next, he stirred in the beer and let it sit while he prepared the rest of his meal.
He found bread, smoked ham, cheese, and butter and cut them into thin slices. Just as he was about to heat the pan with some magic, someone snuck up on him.
“Harry?”
He jumped almost out of his skin while he hastily tucked his wand back into his pocket.
Damn it all! Why do I always get interrupted? He had been looking forward to this opening to put his wand to some use.
He turned to see Sansa standing in the doorway with Lady, who had come up to Harry and was looking longingly at the ham he had pulled out. Perhaps she had been attracted to the kitchens by the smell and her girl had followed along, since she wouldn't normally have come down here on her own. Even now, Sansa's confused gaze switched from the wolf to Harry, who had his hands behind his back to hide his wand.
“What are you doing?” She asked curiously, bending a bit around him to see what he was concealing.
“Oh, I uh… I got back late, and I was hungry, so rather than trouble the cooks I thought I would make my own food.”
“I didn’t know you could cook,” Sansa said, stepping further into the kitchen.
“Yes, well, I didn’t always have servants to do it for me,” he explained rather lamely.
She eyed the ingredients he had pulled out and seemed suddenly curious about what he would do with them, so she sat on a stool to watch his process while Lady sat at her side, wagging her tail eagerly.
"Mind if I join you?"
He actually did mind, but there was no way for him to turn her down without sounding rude.
"Um, sure."
Harry felt a twinge of annoyance with the audience now, but he couldn’t say a thing about it. Technically, Sansa was his superior, so even if he was irritated, he wasn’t allowed to show it.
So, he grudgingly returned back to work, without using his magic yet again.
Sansa couldn’t describe it, but there was something oddly appealing about the sight of Harry bent over a kitchen stove with his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms in that way. The sight was unusual yet satisfying as sounds from the pan fried up whatever he was cooking. Rising a bit from her seat, she craned her neck to see some bread sizzling in the pan. She frowned slightly at the sight. Frying bread? What was he thinking?
At last, he turned with two plates and set one down in front of each of them. She saw the bread slices toasted and held together by what looked like ham and some melted cheese in between them. A small bowl of yellow-brown sauce accompanied it. She watched curiously as Harry dipped his own food into the sauce and took a large bite of it all. She followed his example since she wasn’t quite sure how to go about eating the thing he had given her.
Her teeth tore off a large chunk and a string of thick melted cheese trailed behind, showing off bits of ham in between. She was startled by the strange satisfaction of both the sight and the taste of it.
“This is really good,” she told him.
“Thanks,” he accepted, focusing on his own meal.
“What is it called?”
“Grilled ham and cheese sandwich,” he informed. “A delicacy.”
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“My aunt and uncle often had me cook meals when I lived with them.”
“I didn’t know you lived with your aunt and uncle.”
“That’s not surprising. We don't often talk about me when we're visiting.”
He hadn’t said it as an insult, but somehow, Sansa felt jibed by it. “I guess not,” she eventually admitted. The reminder somehow felt regrettable to her, especially when he had lived in her home for so long and she still had yet to learn a whole lot about him.
“How are things with you and the prince?” He asked, making small talk with her. It seemed more like he was searching to fill the silence than speaking with real curiosity. She was eager enough to boast about it though.
“Very lovely,” she declared. “His highness is very sweet and handsome and brave as a lion.”
“It’s good you like each other. He didn’t seem all that courteous at the feast in Winterfell.”
“He was just in a bad mood,” Sansa excused. “I heard the sparring didn’t go very well.”
Harry chuckled, remembering it with fondness. The Stark men often liked to whisper Mudbottom to each other in jest when speaking of Joffrey. “Not for him, is what I hear.”
She scowled by his remark. “It’s not funny, Harry.”
He stopped himself and relented. “Okay, you’re right. He’s your intended so I shouldn’t laugh at his expense.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll be his queen for the rest of your life, after all.”
The statement suddenly just hit her. She knew before that it was forever, knew that she was destined to be queen, too. But now, the pressure of it felt real, somehow. What if she wasn’t a good queen? Horrible things often happened to rulers who were unloved by the people.
For the rest of her life, indeed.
“Indeed,” she said out loud.
“But… do you really see him to be so perfect?”
Sansa thought and well, this seemed as good a time as any to vent her few frustrations about her intended. “Well… I suppose he could be a little more courteous to me. I don’t always like the way he talks to Lady or sends her away when we visit.”
“I noticed she comes to see me and Buckbeak more often these days.”
“Joffrey doesn’t care for her very much.”
“What about the Hound?”
“What about the Hound?”
“I only meant; doesn’t he protect the prince from things like wolves? Not that Lady ever needs people to be protected from her. She’s the sweetest out of the wolves.” As if to demonstrate, the wolf came forward and nudged Harry’s hand for a pat. Harry rewarded her with a bit of his sandwich and she ate it with great delight.
Sansa smiled at the exchange. “Yes, she is.”
“I only meant, if he’s got his protection, what does he have to be afraid of her?”
“Joffrey isn’t afraid of her.”
“Okay, then why does he send her away?”
“It is his preference,” she stated, leaving it at that.
“I see then.” Harry surrendered the issue.
A thought occurred to her just then and she leapt on a change of topic. “I heard you went flying today. How was it?”
“Very good!” Harry brightened on the subject, growing excited to talk to someone about his day. “We flew over the Blackwater and passed a few travelers who dropped their water pales the moment we came sailing by. I waved to them while we were flying—you should have seen their faces. Then we went over the forest and Buckbeak took this sudden dive and he caught a boar in his talons before I even knew I wasn’t the only one he was carrying. It was amazing!”
“Indeed. I’d sure like to go flying with him someday.”
“The king comes by tomorrow to get acquainted with Buckbeak. Maybe after he has his ride, I can request to take others up, but for now, no one flies on him except for me. Orders, you know.”
“Right. Of course.”
“I’ve got so many ideas, though. I’m so excited to get started.”
“What sort of ideas?”
“Well, I’d like to train Buckbeak to race. He can already go pretty fast; I want to see just how fast. I wonder if there’s a way to time him.”
Her head tilted in thought with the idea. “That might be interesting to watch.”
“I love racing. I’m not very strong, but I’ve always been fast. I just wish…”
“Wish what?”
Harry rested his cheek in his palm while he deliberated his predicament. “Well, I wish there were more hippogriffs to work with, or even just one more. It would be nice to have someone else to compete with. I think Buckbeak would enjoy the company when I’m not there either. Then maybe there could be a guild or something.”
Sansa thought of it. That would be quite impressive. The Targaryens had their dragons to dominate the sky. Maybe with the new age of Baratheons they could have hippogriffs instead. What a sight that would be. Even now she could imagine her prince on one. Oh, how gallant he would look.
“Perhaps you might find more of them as you found Buckbeak again? And you could call yourself something like... the Wingsguard; special knights that fly for the king and country.”
Harry looked excited by the wordplay she had used. “Oh, that would be brilliant! Good thinking, Sansa.”
Sansa felt a fluttering in her chest by the praise. She had to admit, it was one of her cleverer ideas.
They spent the rest of their meal chatting between themselves of this and that, Sansa even shared with him some courtier gossip, though she felt like Harry’s mind seemed distracted. Perhaps he kept returning to the uncertainty of tomorrow, when the King would finally be meeting Buckbeak for the first time. She dearly hoped for his sake that it would go alright, and he wouldn’t need to rescue his hippogriff from potential execution again.