Harry Potter and the Path to Nowhere

The Taste of Revenge

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There was something morbidly fascinating about watching Six prepare the bird for dinner. She was sitting cross legged on the floor, with the creature pulled into her lap. Harry had made things from scratch before, but this was far beyond that. It was almost hypnotic to watch her remove the fluffy feathers of the juvenile bird.

He wasn't sure it was a good thing that he found it so soothing, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Petty revenge never felt so sweet, and now he would get to see what it tasted like.

"Have you done this before?" he asked her. There was a small pile of feathers next to her as she sat there, almost mechanically removing them. His voice seemed to startle her for a second, as she looked up from her work.

"A few times. Nothing quite this big though. Mostly rats and pigeons," she responded, returning to her task. Harry grimaced at the thought of eating rats or their flying variants, but when needs must, he supposed.

And considering where they were, needs were very much a must.

"I see," he said, hoping he didn't let his disgust show. It must have come through, but Six was far from offended. In fact, she seemed rather amused by it.

"They're not as bad as you'd think. And after a day or two without food... Well, I can't say it was the best thing I've ever eaten, but it kept me alive."

Harry nodded at that. Survival was more important than the taste. But if given the choice, Harry would definitely prefer something to be tasty. Hopefully, the pile of meat Six was holding turned out to be just that.

"How did you learn how to do this?" he asked next. She paused in her task once more, but her gaze didn't lift to Harry's. His question seemed to stir something within her. A memory she longed to forget, yet was desperate to hold onto.

After a few moments, Harry began to get nervous, fearing he had upset his companion, "Hey, um, Six?"

His voice seemed to startle out of whatever memory she was lost in. She looked up at him with a blank expression, one with even less emotion than usual. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"Sorry... You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

She looked at him for a few seconds, before sighing in resignation, returning to defeathering their kill, "It's fine. An old... friend showed me how. She showed me a lot of things..." Six trailed off again, but refused to get lost in another memory.

"And what happened to her?" he asked. He regretted it almost immediately, from the angry look she gave him. He raised his arms in surrender, as she angrily plucked out another feather.

She pulled out a few more before responding, in a voice almost too quiet to be heard, "She got caught."

Nothing more needed to be said on the topic. Harry could guess what getting caught entailed, given his past experiences with such a thing. And he didn't just mean Dudley.

Harry gave her some time to regain her composure. It may not have seemed like she was upset, but Harry could tell the remembrance caused her a fair amount of pain.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he eventually asked. She looked at him again, thankful he didn't press the issue.

"Actually, there is. I need something sharp to cut this with. Can you look around to see if there's anything I could use?" she asked. While it was true she needed some kind of cutting instrument, she also wanted to be alone for a bit, even if it was for just a few minutes. This was just a convenient way to kill two birds with one cage.