Disclaimer: Where?

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Feathers, Fangs and Flames

Chapter L

Sworn

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The tree branches swayed all around them, and Harry had to constantly swat them aside - even then, he already sported a few scrapes and scratches.

Wind blew in seemingly random patterns, making the tree branches ever more annoying and unpredictable. It also brought forth many confusing scents. The forest didn't feel like it had human presence, but it was certainly full with life.

The humans being sparse could easily be explained with a Muggle-Repelling Charm, but Remus had refused to outright confirm it before, only going as far as to comment that Muggles couldn't find this part of the forest, even when they thought they could.

"Where are we, exactly?" Harry asked Remus. They had similar conversations a few times already - Harry asking a question and Remus responding elusively. Still, Harry was getting bits and pieces, and that made it worth questioning.

The older man sniffed the air around them. "Can't tell you yet, sorry."

Harry shrugged and scratched at the small rope on his arm - yet another Portkey the Headmaster had given him. He supposed it was good enough, since they had worked each time - even if not exactly as could be expected.

Harry looked around once more - had he seen something move?

The wind had no answers, and he wrote it off as just some stray animal. He sniffed the air, just to be sure. Probably a squirrel. Then, he snapped to attention - it was a faint trace of some other scent - brought by a stray gust of wind from afar.

Werewolves.

Harry glanced at Remus, but Moony didn't look like had caught it yet.

The wind changed again and Harry frowned. "I think there's something to the east," he said simply. "Probably a werewolf. Seems like a day ago, but could be older."

"Good." Remus nodded while his eyes darted through the nearest undergrowth. "There should be."

"We're here?"

"Not yet. Soon," Remus said. "If you smell anything fresher, tell me."

Harry nodded and the two of them continued on their way. The wind grew ever more erratic, and there was a short feeling of him going the wrong way. Only by fixing his gaze on Moony he could carry on without any hesitation. Harry could only wonder just how many spells were at play here.

Remus, however, didn't show one bit of hesitation, as he threaded over a small moss covered hill. There was a huge oak on the very top, and Moony was heading straight at it.

Harry sniffed the air - yes, there definitely had been werewolves around. Roughly a week ago the was even a whole bunch of them. Someone had been there just yesterday, too - the scent he had caught minutes before.

The oak itself, however, was completely bare of any sort of scent - not even of the tree itself. The fact stood out like a sore thumb - with all the other scents around, this empty spot drew Harry's attention in but a second.

It was a huge tree - surrounded by a slow, but steady spinning winds, it stood powerfully above every other three in the vicinity - not the largest three in the forest, but certainly such in the closest neighborhood.

Remus stopped right at the base of the tree and looked upwards.

"Ed!" he called out.

Harry squinted his eyes - there wasn't anyone up in the three, was there?

There - he caught a swift movement atop one of the higher branches.

"Still alive, eh, Remus?" came a question from above. The voice was harsh, slightly raspy - and tired. "Who's that with you?"

Harry didn't feel like he should be answering that question, and to top it off, he realized that he didn't like the man already.

"Harry Potter," Remus said slowly. "He's a werewolf."

"Are you really?" Came a question - its speaker still obscured by the green leaves.

Harry sighed and moved his hair out of the way of the scar - giving a good look for whoever was there, above. "Yes," he replied in a short growl.

"Not what I asked, but good enough." The man jumped to the lowest branch, and Harry caught a look of an old green wizarding robe. "You want to enter the woods?"

"We do," Remus called upwards. "I need to speak with everyone, too. You know how my visits usually go, Ed..."

The man spat down, and jumped to the ground. Harry quickly caught the scent - when it was no longer protected with some enchantment. Definitely a werewolf. The man had a strange scent overall - leaves and forest, mixed with regret and blood. He was unpleasant to have nearby, too - Harry's wolf all but made him growl at the man.

The werewolf was clad in the worn out robes that looked positively ancient. The khaki green robe blended in well in the trees, even as it was torn and ripped in a few places. There was a handle of a wand peeking out of one of the pockets, too. With short brown hair and a scarred face, he reminded a bit of Alastor Moody, but was leaner and a lot more sickly looking. His eyes, however, were probably as harsh as the old Auror's.

The man looked over Remus once more. "Aren't you supposed to be on the run from the Ministry?" This time, the question sounded more like a joke, rather than an accusation. The man's eyes were shining with a glint of mischief, too.

Remus shrugged. "Maybe. Are you?"

"Don't know," the man nodded to himself, eyes darkening a bit. "They probably forgot about the good old Edgar years ago." He glanced at Harry. "That's me, by the way - and you're Harry Potter."

"I am," Harry said just because he didn't know what else to say to that introduction.

"And you smell werewolf enough to convince me, imagine that. Are you going to tell the Ministry where to find me?"

Harry didn't glance at Remus, but he felt the professor incline his head by a hair's breadth. "Why should I?"

Edgar laughed. Harry didn't like that laugh. "Good boy."

Harry growled, despite himself.

Remus looked ready to intervene.

"Did you tell him the rules?" Edgar asked Remus, seemingly ignoring Harry's anger. But Harry knew that the other werewolf was only pretending - he was watching, preparing for a counterattack at the slightest sign of danger.

"No," Remus said. "I could do it for you, if you want me to."

"Nah, you'll mess it up."

Harry got his wolf's irritation under control - to a degree - and tried to look curious. "The rules?"

"These are simple." Edgar tapped his cheek as if it would help him remember. "Now, place your hand on the oak and I'll tell you all three."

Harry glanced at Remus, who nodded.

He reached out. Harry touched his fingers at the wrinkled bark of the old tree, and then, the whole palm. The tree felt - cold. Strange - distant, even as his palm felt the rough texture of the bark - like an old man's skin. It also felt like something warm and close - wet and yet completely dry. It smelled, too. As if some spell had been broken, it was a whirlwind of scents, of many a werewolf that had done exactly the same, before.

"Like that." The werewolf grinned in a strange way. "Now, be a good lad and don't let go until we finish. Unless you'd like to feel lots of pain." He paused. "You can answer with anything that's close enough to 'yes', be it 'i do' or some crazy vow you might want to use, but this curse cares only about the intent. And if your intent is bad... let's just say you won't like the result."

Harry swallowed heavily. A strange curse was something he didn't want to get on himself by accident. Especially since it seemed rather arbitrary. Not like the Goblet of Fire at all.

"Now - first rule. Only werewolves - never tell a non-werewolf about these woods, nor try to bring them here. Don't even try to mention the names, places, anything like that. If you can tell less, even to a werewolf, tell less. Do you understand this rule?"

"Yes," Harry said, and he felt a strange touch of magic travelling down his arm.

"Second. No friends, no enemies. We don't care if you hate the one you bring with yourself, nor if you are his best friend. If he's a werewolf, we'll let them in. You don't bring your baggage, and for that, we ignore you same as we ignore others. It means no fighting for the things outside, nor expecting someone to care about your personal problems. We won't mother you - and you don't cause trouble. Do you think this is clear enough?"

"I think so," Harry said and the strange feeling repeated itself, creeping up his arm, as if trying to ensnare him with an invisible bindweed.

"Lastly. Order. Everyone you bring here, must come to this oak first. There will be someone here. If there isn't, recount the rules for them yourself. They will swear to follow, or they are not a werewolf - not really - and you just broke the first rule. You don't want the curse to fry you for that transgression. If you're not sure he will go for it, keep silent until he does. Safer. For both of you. Everyone swears by the same tree, and everyone who can help curse the poor sods that disobey, does so. Got it?"

"I did," Harry replies and this third time, he felt a sharp pain in his palm, and the smallest drop of his blood ran free on the blackened bark of the tree. The strange feeling of being chained repeated and then he was both imprisoned forever and completely free, sitting at the base of the tree, his head screaming with a crushing migraine.

Remus helped Harry get up back on his feet. "You did it."

"Yes," Edgar drew out sarcastically. "Very impressive. Little Harry knows how to say 'yes'. Heard it's a real skill for all the weddings."

Harry glared at the man, but once again, was completely ignored.

"Remember - only werewolves, no friends, no enemies, and keep yourself in order." The words ran strange for Harry, as if the spell had carved itself into his mind, leaving yet another scar that would never truly fade.

"Is that it?" Harry asked then, expecting something else.

"Probably." Edgar shrugged. "Welcome to Sherwood. Now do me a favour and scram. I was having such a wonderful nap before you barged in here... Shoo!"

Remus sighed and pointed further northeast. "Here, we're going that way now."

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If Harry thought that the oak he was sworn under was big, he could only marvel at the Major Oak in the middle of a huge open space that its branches covered.

It was, in a sense, the very heart of the forest - the biggest and the oldest tree, its branches reaching out at the edges of the clearing and straight up to the sky itself. The form of it was weird - unnatural in the way that it might have been a couple of trees, all grown together into one huge construct.

Harry had expected a large tree since hearing the name Sherwood - but this one seemed larger than a normal oak could grow. The clearing around the tree was a vast stadium of green soft moss and weak grass that sprouted here and there, half destroyed by the constant footsteps.

There was a certain scent of magic about the place - the harsh aroma of oaken bark, mixed with the pleasant smell of wet wood and a soothing charge of magic.

There were people living here - in half concealed wooden hovels, or otherwise unremarkable tents. It was a village inside the forest, and you had to look for it to notice most of the dwellings. Naturally, with Harry's enhanced senses, these were rather easy to pinpoint. There even were hammocks hanging in some of the nearby trees - not all of them empty, as there were men sleeping already.

A lone fire - even if it was rather small - gave the clearing illumination while the evening was threatening to cover everything under the cloak darkness.

It had been a long and tiring day on their feet, but they finally were there. Remus had his arm on Harry's shoulder, as if that would guard him from any possible dangers.

It was strange - in a way, Harry felt like he had just arrived at a medieval Muggle village. It wasn't a real village, though. Not really - a temporary hideout, at best. There were mostly men present - a quick count of the scents suggested a rough estimate of twenty... A few women and two children. None of it felt fully Muggle - even the cheap, obviously Muggle tent to the north was under a generous camouflage of three branches and a weak blanket of magic.

Magic was in the air. Unobtrusive, it lingered everywhere - tents were enchanted, forcing the gaze to slide away from most buildings unless Harry focused on a particular one.

A scent of cooking meat reached him then, and Harry snapped to attention, his mouth watering instantly.

Above the fireplace, there was a huge lump of animal meat, cooking over the flames. Probably a deer - even though Harry wasn't sure he recognised the scent correctly. A boy, of roughly Harry's age was looking over the flames - so that they wouldn't char the meat too much.

After all, every werewolf preferred rare meat. The scent was good - and Harry had to fight a desire to jump forward and steal a bite. The distraction, in a way, served him and Remus well - most locals wouldn't really care about the new arrivals, not when everyone had to force down a hunger for a fresh meal.

Remus, meanwhile, was offering last minute tips in quick whispers. "Don't ask for the food unless someone offers - they rarely have this much at hand. Also, be wary of everyone - if you take a conflict from outside - you'd be breaching the rules, but a conflict that starts here isn't covered..."

"Shouldn't the oath keep others from fighting - I mean, wasn't that the purpose of the second rule?"

"It's a lot looser than many charms are - and the magic is fickle with complex spells like this. Also, since there aren't that many werewolves who can cast a half-decent curse... Our condition usually gets in the way of magical education, and no self respecting wizard would help werewolves keep their peace, and even if there was one who would, not a single werewolf here would trust him to deliver. They - we - have to make do ourselves. That said, it's hidden quite well, had been so since the middle ages. Didn't belong to the werewolves at first, too. Someone else here might know more - but I'd guess that the base spells hadn't really changed through all this time..."

Harry nodded.

Edgar hadn't chosen to walk with them, and Harry thought that it was a good thing - he didn't really like the attitude of that man.

Someone else, however, was coming straight to greet them. Remus smiled at the old looking man, and Harry took it as a good sign.

"Remus Lupin, as I live and breathe. I thought we weren't going you see you again." The man strolled the last few steps in a quick dash - rather uncharacteristic for someone his age. It was an old, large man - white short hair and slightly silver stubble of a beard framed the face, small eyes watching Harry and Remus with pleasant, simple gaze. "I feared that the Ministry caught up to you."

Remus nodded in greeting, and Harry mirrored him in but a second.

"The Ministry is looking at all the wrong places," Remus shrugged. "But I didn't come here to speak about my enemies, John."

"Nonsense, Remus, and you know it." The man smiled lightly. "Most of the young folk go on and about the Ministry being a bunch of tossers..." John glanced at Harry, his eyes travelling to the scar in seconds. "Blimey, Remus, are you out of your mind? This is the Harry Potter you brought with you," he added in a hushed tone. "Is it not?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked rather rudely, glancing around in worry.

The man threw Harry a pleading look. "Gah - you went through Edgar's oak, all good and proper, didn't you?"

Remus nodded, sniffing the air, his previously calmer facade wavering - worry creeping into his expression.

"He's going to tell everyone," John shook his head, speaking quickly. "And we can't just hide Harry somewhere - Remus, oh how you messed up everything..."

"John, you're not making much sense," Remus raised a hand to stop the man's rambling. "What's wrong?"

"Fenrir happened." The man glanced towards one of the tents.

"Greyback is here?" Remus sneered as his nose wrinkled with disgust, as if he had just eaten a sour fruit. "Now?"

John shrugged. "He's nearby - there had been talk of him arriving soon. The stupid ones are already waiting. Who knows what they would do if they knew that not only you're here, but you brought..." The man rubbed his hand on the bear. "He's better off at home."

"I know." Remus sighed. "We came here precisely because of Fenrir, and I'm not going to turn my tail and run just because he might turn up."

"What?" John opened his mouth and then slammed it shut, teeth clattering. "Still on about the same thing? Everyone knows you're speaking for Dumbledore, even with that show in the papers. Remus, don't be a fool - the man sacrificed you to save his own hide the first chance he got and you're still on about the whole cooperation thing? Wizards and werewolves, Remus."

"Always." Moony gave the old man a look. "Since when do you preach for the other side, John?"

"Bah - I'm not preaching for anyone. No one is going to listen about your ideals if they know you're wanted for the ministry. Hell, I heard Malfoy is offering a hefty sum for your capture from one of the boys - that's the best cooperation with the wizards you can hope for."

"This time it's different."

"Because Harry Potter is here?" John took a long, calculating look at Harry, as if admiring a racing horse. "If they don't eat him alive, I doubt that he knows how hard is it for the other lads. Celebrities get all manner of closed eyes in their way - no insult intended, young Harry."

"With all due respect," Harry interjected, growling. "I don't think it's solely about having a bad life."

"They won't care." John paused and sniffed the air twice. "Both of you - I know what you are trying to do - and I respect that - but they don't care the slightest when I try to keep them out of trouble - and they won't care about your way." He sighed. "Just last week some cub got drunk and suggested going Muggle hunting. To bring more women for the Woods. And Fenrir isn't even here yet."

Remus shuddered. "Did they?"

"What? Ah, the stupid one? No. Got a bit too drunk and forgot what he was talking about. Kept to himself through all the full moon - at least as I can remember." The man shrugged. "If one of the spells stopped working, it might have gone bad. The tourists turn up more often than you think - for their stupid tree in the south. And if one of them strays too far north into the woods and bypasses all the fancy repelling charms by accident... The magic is well and good, but it will fail at some point, and I just know that we're going to catch a poor soul one full moon night. And it will be the end of whatever little peace we have here."

"Seemed as strong as ever, when we were walking here," Remus assured the man. "But I can try and take another look."

"Do." John shrugged. "You're probably the only one closest to the expert we have."

"I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, not a Quick Muggle-Repelling Charms course for the Ministry Personnel," Remus replied half-irritated, half with a smile.

"You have a bloody Hogwarts education," John said, gesturing to his right. "Everbody else here is lucky to know that magic exists."

"It can't be that bad?" Harry blurted out in surprise. "I mean, are there that many Muggles turned into werewolves here?"

"Maybe four out of all of us here. Your first question is more spot on. It's terrible." John shrugged. "I think the Ministry would have me in their records as a squib, but the thing is, I have never had the chance to even try my hand at magic. Edgar and Remus are exceptions, and the former was bitten after Hogwarts."

"I did offer to test it," Remus pointed out. "You declined."

"And I have decline every time you offered and will continue to do so. I'm too old for this fancy magic, not when someone can use it for me. And if I would manage to get out a spell - I'll have to live with the regret of me never really trying to learn any. Self-pity leads nowhere." He laughed. "I'd rather die a simple werewolf - and leave the spellcasting to your younger lot."

Harry could only wonder at such a choice - to reject magic while living in a place which literally was soaked in spells and enchantments. Incomprehensible.

"Your choice." Remus smiled thinly. "Stubborn. But, since you seem to know what you are doing..."

John stared at Remus in surprise. "Ah, you mean to tell me that my criticism for you is the same? I'm only trying to help..." he trailed off. Then, he chuckled. "Point. I'll stop badgering you about your decisions. Just - be careful."

"I will be," Remus said, smiling. "But there's something you should know about my proposal this time."

"Mhm?" John stopped mid step - he was ready to leave them to their own devices.

"We're going to offer Wolfsbane," Remus whispered conspiratorially, even going as far as to lean towards the man. With the werewolf hearing, it was a rather pointless move, but it drew Johns attention to the words.

The man froze. "You know better than to joke with such matters."

"We're serious," Harry added. "It's the least we could-"

John's eyes twinkled with joy for the briefest of moments and then he frowned heavily. "Wait, and you're going to ask to take up an active part - in something you want us to help you with. In exchange for the potion?"

"Not exactly," Remus said slowly. "More like not letting Fenrir get away with his power games."

John bit his lower lip. "Fine." He shook his head like it would keep the bad thoughts away. "Let's head to the fire, grab a bite of the fresh kill, and you're going to try and sell me your special brand of insanity. Again." He sniffed the air nervously. "It seems that with age, I'm getting ever more stupid."

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A/N:

Even though I have an excuse this time (attending a friend's funeral) I'm still constantly finding trouble of meeting the exact self-imposed deadlines I set ages ago. With fifty chapters done, and more than half of the story already accounted for, I'm still going to keep updating, roughly once every two to four weeks, but I'm not going to promise any exact dates.

On a more upbeat note, this lifting of restriction might actually help me write longer and better chapters - since I had fallen into habit of quickly finishing out 3k word chapters just at the very edge of the deadline as opposed to my supposed average of 4k chapters written in advance to be posted at set times.

This means only good news for those of you who read SMTG, I guess, since I'll feel more morally obliged to update that story without the excuse of having to write FFF since it's the last day for an update.

So yeah. If life allows me to return to a schedule again, I'll let you know.

Reiterating something I had said at some point before, just in case - nothing I write is finished nor abbandoned unless I marked it as completed or I explicitly say so in my profile.