Chapter 16
Chapter 16
The forest was dark. It always had been. This was uncharted territory that had never been seen by man.
Everything was still.
Quiet.
It seemed that nothing would disturb the eerie silence.
Until now that is. Because thru the thick under-bush crawled a pale form. It was a fox. An Arctic fox. But strangely enough it was one that retained its silver coat regardless of the season. It had a bushy tail, elegant legs, thick fur, long whiskers and intelligent grey eyes.
It would have been the epitome of foxy perfection had it not possessed the grace of a pregnant hippopotamus.
And that ruined its picture-perfect image.
It was difficult to imagine a clumsier animal. It was as if it momentarily forgot how to walk. It seemed to realize this but instead of stopping to practice it made the disastrous decision to stand up on its hind legs. But it was a fox. So in no surprise whatsoever it fell onto its fluffy butt.
It obviously understood some mystery of the universe because in a very human gesture it brought its front paw up to its face. And had a man ever ventured into this recluse part of the ancient forest to see the animal’s actions, they would have sworn that they had seen the first and only fox on Planetos to ever face-palm. But had they shared their story with anyone else they would have become laughing-stock that should know better than to wander dark Northern forests while remaining in their cups.
The fox seemed resigned. As if it was giving up on a previously thought-out decision. It seemed to shiver for a moment and then in its place was a beautiful silver-haired teen.
That teen, once known as Draco Malfoy breathed out a sigh of relief. He was extremely glad that no one had been around to witness that embarrassment. How he never wondered how animagi learn to mannerisms of their inner animal he would never know. It was foolish to assume that all the animal’s habits just come naturally because even birds have to learn how to fly. But he knows better now.
Either way, unless he wants to walk back to civilization on his own two feet he must get better. And he will. Eventually.
At least he is a fox. That is somewhat familiar territory. How grateful he is for his own foresight (more like love of fluff and goofy fur-balls) that he chose the fox form rather than the snake when he had the chance.
At the time he lived in snowy Durmstrang and planned to live in overcast and freezing Britain. Spending so much time to become an animagus just to gain the ability to immediately hibernate upon transformation would have been a foolish thing to do. But Draco does admit to himself that he never would have thought of that himself. Had papa not went into a rant on pretty-but-useless animagus forms. Which makes sense. After all, who wants to transform into an albino peacock? Subtle that form is not.
Lucius’s animagus form being the secret reason for their flock of albino peacocks back at home. None of the speculators had ever come close to guessing it correctly. But then again, hiding a needle in a haystack of his own making was just the kind of genius his papa was renowned for.
But memories of a faded past should not be the focus now. While he will never forget Lucius, will always love him in his own way, now is not the time to focus on such things. Especially when he has almost made it out of the unwelcoming North.
If only leaving was as simple as that.
It wasn’t.
It wasn’t just the freezing cold that seeped into his bones even during the day, being the first sign of the famed ‘Winter is Coming’.
Or the poachers that a beautiful white fox had to avoid at all costs.
Or the number of bandits in the forests and on the roads that demonstrate the exact capabilities and ‘honor’ of Lord Stark and his banner men. Considering that many of said bandits remain in the service of their lords, paying them ‘tax’ for turning a blind eye to their actions, honor in the North was comparable to the South.
Non-existent.
It was a terrifying thought that in another life, honor could have been something Jon Snow would have believed in. That he could have not understood the concept of propaganda. That he could have thought that the only honor a bastard could obtain in this life is in the Night Watch. A gathering of outcasts, rapists and thieves.
No thanks.
Such an ‘honor’ is entirely beyond him.
But some didn’t think so.
And the creepy Raven seemed to be one of them.