Once Upon A Time (A Drarry FanFiction Collection)

Chapter Five - On The Wings Of Love

On The Wings Of Love

How Harry got himself into these situations, he still wasn't sure. He pelted through the forest, branches whipping at his face as the hounds barked and snapped at his feet. "Hey!" he hissed behind his shoulder. "Look no hard feelings, okay? I was just sleeping in that barn! I wasn't looking for trouble!"

The dogs seemed less than sympathetic to his pleas though, their teeth glinting in the afternoon sunshine as they salivated.

"I'm not that tasty, I assure you!" Harry went on, charging up a rise and swinging from a low hanging branch over a log. He was too skinny to look appetising, he was certain, but these dogs probably loved gnawing on a juicy bone.

He darted through bushes and around trees, hoping to find some way to escape the angry beasts. He wouldn't mind, but he really hadn't been stealing anything this time, he had just wanted a night's rest somewhere a little more hospitable than the open ground. But of course the young maiden that had found him had questioned his virtue with a blistering scream before Harry had time to assure her she had nothing to fear, and decided it best to run for it rather than stick around to offer an explanation, risking the sword of her no-doubt enraged father.

Up ahead, a solitary tower loomed, which was an odd site for several reasons. There was no town nearby, Harry knew this as he had counted himself lucky to stumble upon the farmhouse. And if it was a small castle, surely there should have been more turrets?

He had to admit though, all he cared about was the fact that is rose from the ground. If he could get inside and bar the door, he could maybe loose his hungry entourage.

The dogs were still a dozen of so feet behind him, but his chance came to increase his lead when a small stream cut across his path. The water was fast, but he was larger than his four-legged friends and was able to hurtle across in next to no time. They though would have to swim, giving him a precious extra few minutes.

He sprinted towards the tower, his boots squelching but his spirits raised. As the foliage cleared he could see a single door at the base of the structure, and he lurched for the handle. It was locked, and picking it would take time he didn't have, so he decided to risk a few moments to try a direct approach.

"Hello there!" he cried out, pounding his fist against the wood. "Anyone home? I'm in a bit of a pickle and could use some help!" He turned around to peer through the greenery, and could just about make out the dogs still struggling across the water, but he didn't have long before they were free again. "Blast," he huffed, and pulled two thin bits of metal from his tunic pocket, hoping he hadn't made himself become dinner by wasting time asking for help.

Before he could attack the lock though, he was startled by a rope falling down in front of his face. He jumped back, and saw it had come from the only window, all the way at the top of the tower. "Climb up!" a voice called.

Another glance back to the stream told Harry the first of the beasts were just clear of the water, and he decided it was worth the risk of falling if only to get off the ground for now.

He grabbed the rope – and almost slipped back off again. It was like no rope he had ever encountered before, more like silk than the usual course fibres, and now he was looking at it, he could see it was not spun into one single line, but plaited. It gave a small jiggle as he inspected it.

"Come on!" the voice floated down.

Harry decided not to question his escape route any further, and wrapped his hand around the plait to get a better grip. The owner of the rope responded by hauling him up, so in mere moments he had scaled several feet. A good thing too, as the first of the hounds finally reached the tower, and jumped up to try and bite as his heels. He was already too high though, and he grinned down in triumph. "Sorry boys," he gloated. "You shall have to find your supper elsewhere!"

Gradually, he made his way up to the window, his feet walking up the wall and his hands moving up the rope, careful not to slip again, otherwise the snapping dogs would be the least of his troubles. "Are you nearly there?" called the voice of his mysterious rescuer.

"Yes, almost!" Harry responded cheerfully.

It was with great relief that he grasped the lip of the window sill, and with a final grunt of effort, pulled himself through the opening and tumbled to the floor. He shook himself and sat upright, wishing to thank his new friend. Then stopped in surprise.