The Hunt

Disclaimer: JKR owns the rights to anything you recognize in this fic. I wish I did, but alas! Life is like a box of Bertie Bott's. Sometimes you get chocolate fudge, sometimes you get earwax.

Credit: Credit goes to my wonderful beta, Tevildo, for cleaning up my horrible punctuation and grammar. Any errors that remain after he is done with a chapter, are solely my own. Feel free to pelt me with cauldron cakes for these.

AN: *cough* Now that NotSoSaintly has graced us with her presence *stern look* let us proceed! Enjoy folks!

"A wot?"

"A black hare, Hagrid."

"Well... I coul' set a coupla snares, I su'po-"

"NO! I don't want it harmed. It is a very valuable creature, I want it alive."

Hagrid looked down at the woman sitting at his scrubbed kitchen table. She had banged on his door at the crack of dawn, blabbering about black hares. She had that shiny-eyed and brittle look of someone who had not slept because of worry. Why was she worrying about wildlife? True, black was an unusual colour for a hare, but he had seen much stranger things in the Forest. He toyed with the idea of offering to round her up a black skitterbeast instead. Now, those were interesting! Why, he remembered the first time he saw one...

***

Hagrid was getting that faraway and excited look he always wore when he was thinking about something particularly nasty and dangerous. Hermione was horrified – not so much at the prospect of being offered such an animal as a pet, but more at the knowledge of what Severus might be facing right now. Nobody knew exactly how many unmentionable beasts roamed the Forbidden Forest, but there were probably far more than she wanted to admit.

"Hagrid! Please, this is very important. I have to find hi... er... it as soon as possible."

The half-giant looked a bit puzzled. "Ah'ight, 'Ermione. I'll keep an eye open fer it."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I... I'll be back after classes to help you look."

Hagrid just shook his big shaggy head in confusion as Hermione left his cottage, leaving her tea untouched.

***

"Where's old grumpy-garters this morning?" Hermione was startled out of her distracted thoughts.

"What?"

"Severus. He hasn't shown up for breakfast yet," Rolanda said, spreading a thick layer of strawberry jam on her toast. "I got a cracking tip-off on some racing brooms for his team."

"Racing brooms?" Hermione's mind struggled to keep up.

"Yes! We've been discussing it for weeks. That man is passionate about his team, let me tell you! Didn't give me a moment's rest at mealtimes – always yammering on about Quidditch." The yellow-eyed witch leant in and added conspiratorially, "Even I got tired of the subject!"

Hermione made a conscious effort to snap her jaw shut. That's what they've been whispering about? Stupid Quidditch? Damn him! He did that on purpose! Bloody Slytherins and their bloody scheming! She stabbed at a sausage; grease spurting from the punctures.

"Er... Hermione? You okay?"

"Oh, perfectly fine, Rolanda. In fact, I did see Severus very early this morning while on patrol. He seemed to be leaving the grounds so I asked him where he was off to. He said he was going to be away for a few days to collect some 'very important potions ingredients' he had just got wind of. If you ask me, they might have fallen off the back of a delivery broom, what with the cloak-and-dagger air Severus had about him."

The flight instructor chuckled merrily. "That's our Severus. Even the simplest tasks handled with as much mystery as possible. I'm sure his students will be crushed to be let off his classes for a few days."

The two women snickered. 'If he's still alive by the time I find him', Hermione thought, viciously biting into the sausage impaled on her fork, 'I swear I'll kill him.'

***

Somewhere along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Severus doubted whether he would live much longer. Something big was moving through the undergrowth, directly to where he was crouching. He valiantly tried to battle his instinct to make a run for it – he was already lost enough without adding another leg to the journey. In any case, it, whatever it was, was more than likely to see him if he made a dash for it right now – the sun was peeking over the eastern horizon, bathing everything in soft golden light. He would stick out like an ogre's thumb!

A hoof thudded down right next to him. Only then did the warm, grassy scent finally infiltrate his panic. A moment later a graceful head adorned with a glittering horn swept into view as the unicorn started grazing. He had never been this close to one before and wondered whether the tingle of magic that surrounded them could be perceived by humans, or whether it was only obvious to his heightened animal senses. A sense of well-being seductively twined its way around his core, but he shook it off resolutely.

He could only deal with one instance of ancient magic per twenty-four hour period. He didn't have time to sit around and be beguiled by mythical creatures. The sooner he got back to Hogwarts, the sooner he could get out of this body.

The unicorn snorted in surprise when the black hare darted out from under its feet.

***

Hermione's anger had turned to worry again. She had been distracted all day – not that her students minded when she forgot about her tight revision schedule on the board and left them to their own devices. After locking and warding her classroom, she dropped some paperwork in her office and then rushed outside.

"Hagrid! I'm here!" she panted breathlessly when he opened his door.

"Ah'ight, le' me get my crossbow an' we'll be all set."

Hagrid returned a few moments later with his crossbow over his shoulder and Fang at his heel. "Er... Hagrid? Do you think it is a good idea to bring Fang?"

"Ah course it is, 'Ermione. Old Fang is a right good sniffer! He'll be able to find your 'are!"

Hermione had her misgivings, but agreed to it. Hagrid did have a point - Severus was a needle in an awfully big haystack at the moment and they needed all the help they could get. To her delight, Fang picked up a trail after only a few seconds of sniffing around the place she last saw Severus. The big boarhound trotted off toward the west and they followed.

***

Dusk found Severus creeping along the edge of the Forest. It had been a harrowing day, trying both to stay out of sight and to move forward at the best possible speed. He had often caught the musky smell of predators as he travelled, reducing the hare part of him to a shivering wreck while his human part tried to cajole the uncooperative body onward again. He still had no idea where he was, hoping that following the scent of water would eventually lead him to the Great Lake.

Severus mentally sighed in exasperation when his body froze again. He stomped from one corner of his mind to the other while his hare instincts processed the "threat". Resigning himself to a wait, he turned his thoughts to what he had to do. Firstly, get back to Hogwarts. That had seemed like the simplest step, he groused, wishing he could glare at himself. Next, find Hermione and beg for mercy. Well, beg for mercy in the Slytherin way of course, which usually included blackmail. Now, the real question was whether a cute, fluffy rodent such as he would be able to blackmail anyone without ending up on the wrong side of a light and flaky crust?

Dog.

The abrupt conclusion reached by his animal mind jolted him from the inane course his ponderings had taken.

'Yes, yes, but a big dog or a small dog?' he inquired impatiently. Having two minds in one body was certainly exhausting, especially since one of them had the intelligence of a limp cabbage leaf... mmm... cabbage. 'Stop that!'

Bolstering his body's flagging confidence with promises of cabbage over the next hillock, he managed to hitch it into a sentry position to have a good look around. The light was fading fast, but he could still make out the huge boarhound against the black trees.

Hagrid's dog. Severus allowed his mental self a smirk. That coward couldn't hurt anything if it tried. Severus idly wondered why all of Hagrid's 'pets' hadn't been similarly inclined. Maybe this one was a dud?

Stopping his rambling before it began, he gave his head a shake. He found it harder and harder to focus as time wore on. He was becoming – and he groaned at the pun – more harebrained by the moment. Craning his neck, he looked for the dog's hulking master; the one was never that far from the other.

Then the scent reached his twitching nose. He had first inhaled that scent on that night, but it had so much more depth now; shades of flora and femininity that he envied his animal self's ability to pick out.

She was here. She'd come to find him.

All thoughts of dignity and blackmail melted in the golden evening as he raced across the grass, skipping over the long shadows stretching away from the dying sun, his heart feeling as if it would burst from relief, gratitude, lust – it didn't matter, nothing mattered except getting to her; not even the whisper of air rushing through feathers. The impact crushed his breath from his body and excruciating pain sliced into his side.

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