Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

Harry crept closer to the Whomping Willow, staying low to the ground. The massive tree's branches kept swishing through the air, making whooshing sounds that reminded him of when he dove as an eagle. He needed to find whatever spot Madam Pomfrey had poked with that stick.

The full moon cast enough light for him to see pretty well, but getting close enough to look properly meant risking getting hit. And those branches looked way bigger from down here than they had from his safe perch in the oak tree.

"Come on," he muttered to himself. "You fought ice knights. This is just a tree."

But his instincts disagreed - the tree could definitely hurt him badly if it landed a hit. Harry bit his lip, considering his options. He could try flying really fast, but one wrong move and splat. He could try using his fire, but Aunt Min would probably be super mad if he burned the special tree.

Maybe his mist? No, making this tree panic probably wasn't that useful. And after what happened with the Boggart, Harry wasn't keen on using that power on random magical beings, or non-beings, if he didn't know how it would affect them unless he really had to.

A branch smashed into the ground nearby, making Harry jump. "Okay, okay, thinking time over."

He transformed back into his eagle form, fluttering up to get a better view. From above, he could see a sort of knot in the roots where Madam Pomfrey had pointed her stick. That had to be the secret button or whatever made the tree freeze.

Harry let out a frustrated huff, watching another branch smash into the dirt. He really didn't want to get hit - the tree looked mean enough to break bones. But Chiara was down there somewhere, and the journal said she needed a friend...

Wait. Maybe he didn't need to get close at all!

Harry changed back to human form, his feet settling firmly on the grass. If he could use that trick he discovered, and hit that knot in the roots from here...

"Small and careful," Harry whispered to himself, dropping into a loose stance. He didn't need a big flame for this - just enough to reach the target.

Taking a slow breath, Harry focused on pooling his chi at his right hand, just as he'd practiced. When he punched forward, the energy flowed from his core through the main pathway, streaming toward his hand. A small flame shot out—looking ordinary enough, but Harry could sense its difference. The fire pressed into the knot and then spread across the tree's bark without leaving even a scorch mark.

The Whomping Willow's branches slowed, then froze completely.

"Ha!" Harry grinned, quite pleased with himself. "Knew that would be useful someday!"

He jogged over to the now-still tree, peering around its massive trunk. There - between two giant roots was a person-sized gap leading down into darkness. Harry hesitated for just a moment before climbing inside. The tunnel was dark and seemed to go on forever, but Chiara had come this way, so it had to lead somewhere.

Harry cupped his right hand, focusing on creating just a tiny flame. The small orange light danced in his palm, casting flickering shadows on the earthen walls. The tunnel wasn't very wide - an adult would probably have to slouch, but Harry could walk normally.

He walked. And walked. And walked some more. The flame in his palm barely touched the darkness ahead, and the silence pressed in around him like a heavy blanket. His footsteps seemed too loud in the quiet, even though he tried to step carefully.

"This is taking forever," Harry muttered to himself, just to hear something besides his own breathing. The tunnel curved slightly here and there, but he felt it was mostly going left. Or at least he hoped it was left - he'd lost track of direction ages ago.

After probably less than twenty minutes, Harry spotted something ahead. The tunnel ended in what looked like wooden boards on the roof of the tunnel, with a gap just big enough for someone to squeeze through.

Harry extinguished his flame and studied the opening. He'd need to jump a bit to reach it, but that shouldn't be too hard. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off the ground and grabbed the edge, pulling himself up as quietly as he could.

The room he climbed into made him freeze. Broken furniture lay scattered about like someone had thrown everything around in a rage. Deep scratches marked the walls, and sheets of wallpaper hung in sad, torn strips. Thick dust covered everything, stirred by his movements into lazy swirls that caught what little moonlight filtered through boarded-up windows.

The floorboards creaked ominously under his feet. Harry jumped when one cracked with a sharp snap, his heart suddenly pounding. This place felt wrong - like one of those haunted houses from the stories older students sometimes told to scare the younger ones.

"Chiara?" he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you here somewhere?"

Silence answered him. Then - a low growl from somewhere upstairs made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. That... that didn't sound like Chiara at all.

"Chiara?" he tried again, even quieter this time. The growling got louder.

Harry's hands started trembling slightly. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all...

Heavy footsteps thudded overhead, sending dust raining down from the ceiling. Harry backed up against the wall, feeling sweat trickle down his forehead. Whatever was up there sounded big. Really big.

The growling turned into a snarl that made his whole body want to run. But his feet felt frozen to the floor as something crashed around upstairs, getting closer to the stairs.

Should he transform and try to fly back through the tunnel? But eagles weren't made for underground spaces - his wings would hit the walls. Should he use his fire? But in this small wooden house, he might burn everything down, including himself. His little trick with pooling chi at the exit points wasn't something he had perfected, and it could still cause things to burn if they were vulnerable enough.

A horrible thought struck him. If that thing upstairs had hurt Chiara...

The floorboards above creaked. Harry held his breath, pressing himself flat against the wall. His instincts were screaming at him that whatever was up there could definitely kill him. He should listen to his instincts, and he must run away as fast as he could.

But Chiara was his friend. And friends didn't leave friends alone with monsters.

The stairs groaned. Something was coming down.

Harry compressed his chi slightly, ready to fight if he had to. His hands shook as he raised them in a defensive stance. The orange flame that sprouted from his palms cast wild shadows on the walls.

A massive shape appeared at the top of the stairs. In the flickering firelight, Harry caught glimpses of gray fur, sharp teeth, and eyes that glowed with an unnatural amber light.

His breath caught in his throat as understanding hit him like a punch to the stomach.

"Oh," Harry whispered, his flames guttering out as his concentration shattered. "You're a werewolf."

The creature - Chiara - let out another bone-chilling growl and took a step down the stairs.

Harry's heart hammered in his chest as the werewolf took another step down the creaking stairs. Those amber eyes locked onto him with predatory focus, and he could see foam starting to gather at the corners of her mouth.

The wolf that was Chiara let out a low, rumbling growl that made Harry's knees feel weak. Her muscles bunched and tensed under thick gray fur, like a Coiled Ashwinder about to strike. Any second now she'd snap and...

Think! The journal wouldn't send him here just to get eaten. There had to be something he was missing. Chiara was sick every month, and she had two different kinds of danger inside her, and it was the full moon tonight...

By Merlin's name was he dumb for not figuring it out sooner.

The werewolf's claws scraped against the wooden steps as she descended another step. Harry pressed himself flat against the wall, cursing softly under his breath. What exactly had the journal said? Something about truth beneath the surface, and a curious eagle finding answers...

Chiara's massive head tilted back, and she let out a howl that shook dust from the ceiling. The sound bounced off the walls, making Harry's ears ring. She was losing control fast.

Eagle! That was it! The journal said 'curious eagle'!

Just as Chiara launched herself down the remaining stairs, Harry concentrated hard and transformed. His body shrank and shifted, feathers sprouting across his skin. Where a small boy had stood moments ago, now perched a golden eagle.

The werewolf skidded to a stop barely three feet away, her claws leaving deep gouges in the floorboards. Her head tilted in confusion as she stared at him, nostrils flaring. The rage in those amber eyes slowly dimmed as she processed that there were no more humans nearby.

Harry stayed very still, watching as Chiara's tensed muscles gradually relaxed. The foam at her mouth began to dry, and her growls turned into curious snuffling sounds as she lowered her massive head to inspect him more closely.

Maybe this was what the journal meant about being a friend during her monthly ordeal. She didn't want to hurt anyone - she just couldn't help it when she saw humans during the full moon. But animals were safe.

Harry watched as Chiara sniffed at his feathers, her hot breath ruffling them slightly. The werewolf was still scary-looking up close, with teeth longer than his fingers and claws that looked like they could tear through stone, but she wasn't acting mean anymore. Just curious, like a really big dog meeting a new friend.

He carefully shifted his weight on his talons, making sure not to make any sudden moves. The floorboards creaked beneath him, and Chiara's ears twitched at the sound. But she just huffed and sat back on her haunches, watching him with those glowing amber eyes.

This was way better than trying to fight her. Harry knew his fire might hurt her, and he really didn't want to do that. She was his friend, even if right now she looked like something from Stupid Snape's weekly attempt to scare him.

Chiara let out a small whine and pawed at the ground. She looked lonely, Harry realized. Maybe that's why she came down here every full moon - so she wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, but that meant being all alone in this creepy old house.

Making up his mind, Harry hopped closer and chirped softly. See? Just a friendly bird. Nothing to worry about.

The werewolf's tail actually wagged a little, thumping against the dusty floor. She lay down, resting her huge head on her paws, still watching him but in a sleepy sort of way now.

Harry hopped closer to Chiara, looking around the broken-down house as he did. Chairs lay in pieces, tables had chunks missing, and deep scratches covered nearly every surface. He'd seen cats do something similar to furniture at Hogwarts, but on a much smaller scale. Did werewolves need to scratch things too? The house looked like it had been through several angry bears rather than just one werewolf.

At least Chiara seemed calm now. She watched him with lazy interest as he explored, her tail occasionally thumping against the floor when he came near. Harry decided he might as well do something fun while keeping her company - it wasn't like he could sleep anyway, not with how exciting this whole night had been.

Even in eagle form, Harry could still convert his magic into fear-mist. He couldn't access his firebending like this - birds didn't have the right chi paths or whatever made firebending work. But the mist was different, more like part of his magic than his body.

Harry concentrated, pulling at that familiar feeling. A small cloud of silvery mist formed in front of him, making Chiara's ears perk up. He shaped it carefully into a ball, then stretched it into a cube. The werewolf's amber eyes tracked the movement, her head tilting slightly.

Encouraged by her interest, Harry made the cube spin slowly in the air. He'd gotten pretty good at this kind of movement lately - way better than those wobbly attempts with Tonks watching. The cube morphed into a pyramid, then back to a sphere.

Chiara suddenly swiped at the misty shape with one massive paw. Harry quickly made it float higher, his eagle heart jumping a bit. The mist might make her panic if she touched it, and he really didn't want to find out if werewolves liked eating eagles.

But she just watched the floating shapes with the same fascination his cat-form aunt showed for the red dot from Flitwick's wand when he decided to tease her. Harry kept practicing, making triangles and squares dance through the air. He even managed to make four shapes at once, though keeping them all rotating smoothly at all times was tricky.

The night went on, and Harry found himself getting sleepy. His shapes started getting wobblier, and keeping his eyes open got harder. Chiara hadn't moved much except to watch his mist-show, and she really did seem more like a big furry dog than a monster now.

Making up his mind, Harry let his mist fade away and fluttered over to where Chiara lay. She lifted her head slightly as he landed between her ears, but didn't seem to mind as he settled into her soft fur.

Harry tucked his head under his wing, and slowly fell asleep.