HEATHER BLACK AGREED TO DO THE THING THAT NOBODY ELSE COULD TO DO.
Use her animagus form, and protect Harry Potter for fifteen years.
As an owl.
As Hedwig.
***
Travis McKinnon wanted nothing more than to do something useful.
So he used his animagus...
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TRAVIS WAS WITH HEATHER by the Black Lake, Heather writing a letter to Elizabeth, the owner of Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Travis watching students run around the side of the lake, climb the trees and laughing.
Travis was unused to holding a pencil—or even just having fingers and the ability to hold anything—so even though his handwriting used to be extremely neat, now, his writing was almost illegible because it was so messy.
Heather's was a bit neater than his, but she wrote slower to perfect each stroke, and Travis just couldn't be bothered.
"What's with the blue?" Heather asked suddenly, glancing up from her book as she dipped her quill into her inkpot.
Travis furrowed his brows, "Um...what?"
"In your hair," Heather reached out and pointed at his head, "Up there—why do you have a patch of blue?"
Travis frowned, "I don't think—,"
Heather groaned, "Oh, Merlin, Trav, just look!"
Hesitantly, he leaned forward to look at his reflection in the black water of the lake, and sure enough, there was a patch of blue in his head of blonde hair.
"Merlin, Neville," He muttered, "I thought that had disappeared from third year Transfiguration!" He laughed a little, "I think I will leave it there, as a memory, y'know? I mean, it hurt at the time, a tiny bit, but I guess Neville is better at Transfiguration than anybody gives him credit for, if his spell lasted for two years."
"What is Neville good at?" A voice asked suddenly, and Heather and Travis both jumped a bit.
When they turned around, they saw Hermione, Harry and Ron—Hermione was the one who had spoken.
"Many things," Travis said, getting up with a soft groan—he was about half a head taller than her, and Heather got up, too, standing at about Travis' eyes; still a bit taller than Hermione.
"What were you talking about, is what she means," Harry elaborated.
Heather replied, "Well, I'm sure the lot of you know it's not nice to eavesdrop," She said, "But—we were talking about the blue in Trav's hair."
"You're Travis? The transfer student?" Ron asked, frowning, "Travis McKinnon?"
"Yes, I am," Travis said with a crooked smile, disregarding Ron's suspicious tone, "And she's Heather Black."
"Oh," Harry said, adjusting his glasses, "Sirius told me you were dead."
"We weren't—,"
"Things happened—things that none of you want to know," Heather said, giving Travis a sharp look, "But I suppose it was just magic," She said with a smile, and Hermione, Harry and Ron chuckled a tiny bit at that, though they kept their eyes carefully trained on them.
