Moonlark Rising

Relevations

Keefe

Keefe had to act soon. They were waiting until Christmas, when humans would assume any flying objects were a prank, toy or gimmick to sell things. Until then, he was waiting, watching and trying to broadcast his thoughts across the air into Sophie's mind.

Sophie

Sophie hated Umbridge. Her ill fated 'inspections' were just her sitting in a corner and making it impossible to teach or learn with her nosy, crazy questions. Sophie's skin was constantly itching, and she smelled trouble.

They needed a club, a secret club to teach them the things they weren't supposed to learn. The ministry thought Dumbledore was building an army? 

Well then, they would have to build one, then. She hurried into the common room, where Ron and Hermione were talking to Harry in hushed tones.

Hermione said, "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us new spells and correct us when we're wrong."

Sophie sat down next to her. "I agree. We need to act. Who do you have in mind, Hermione?"

"You and Harry. You can teach what you know, and Harry can teach us based on his encounters with Voldemort!"

Sophie was shocked. "I agree that Harry should teach, but I don't know why you would choose me!"

Hermione scowled at her. "Yes, yes you do. You act somewhat normal, but you have a lot of secrets. 

There are criminals wherever you come from too, and I think you have a lot of experience defeating them."

Sophie sighed, and nodded slightly. "I'll teach. I have some ideas already, actually."

Harry shivered. "I don't think I'd be a very good teacher," he said, then he got up and left.

The next two weeks passed. Sophie picked the brightest, most Umbridge hating kids, the ones who trusted Harry, and invited them to The Three Broomsticks for a meeting. 

Hermione had wanted to go to the Hog's Head, a rather small inn, but Sophie had convinced her that the bigger and noisier their meeting place was, the less likely they were to be overheard.

Sophie already had so many ideas for lessons. Teaching people how to throw off the Imperius Curse, for one. Sophie couldn't be controlled at all, she assumed from what she knew of her mind.

It was the night before the meeting, and Sophie was wandering around the castle when she found an old door. She opened it, and found a room with jungle tendrils everywhere. She was at peace there. 

She stepped forward and stumbled over an old, battered feather hat. A diadem. It was pulsing with dark energy. She hated it. It crumbled to dust before her eyes, letting out a wail that quickly dissipated. Her eyes were drawn to the front of the room.

Somehow, her tiara-thing had left her pocket and reappeared in the center of the room. The opal had changed, somehow. It was switching colors and patterns mesmerizingly. Sophie walked forward slowly.

 A song hummed, sinking under her skin. She reached the pedestal, stretched her hand out to pick the changed crown up, and settled it on her head.

The music changed suddenly, then faded away. If she concentrated, she could hear it. But her ears and nose were distracted by the leaves brushing against each other and the otherworldly smell of magic. 

Wait. Her ears and nose weren't that good. She swished her tails, trying to think of what was wrong. Tails. She had turned into a fox.

She ran to the river, her eyes closed, and cut her paw on a piece of rubble before she was halfway there. She was so annoyed with the injury. She knew that foxes were no good with first aid, but at least she could clean it before turning back into a human and wrapping it... but she didn't want to lick her cut.