Fenrir woke up to the sound of his mother’s delighted cry, rubbing his amber eyes blearily. Sitting upright in his bed, the tall boy looked up at Heidi with a puzzled look on his handsome young face.

It was the middle of summer. Nearly one whole, glorious month had passed since the school term had ended, and Fenrir and his family had, just this morning, begun their holiday in Layona. The peaceful little village was a beautiful one; the vast majority of its inhabitants were wizards, and it was therefore one of the most interesting places Fenn had ever visited. From the quaint, old-fashioned stone pubs and cottages to the tranquil forest surrounding it, Layona seemed, to Fenn, like a scene out of a storybook.

“Mu-um,” groaned Fenn, yawning heavily. Rubbing his eyes vigorously, the boy tousled his messy blonde hair and heaved himself upright with a grunt. “Thanks for letting me sleep in.” He grinned cheekily up at his mother.

“None of that sarcasm, young man,” said a deep voice mildly. Fenn’s father, Michael Grey, stepped into the room. He was a very tall, handsome man, and his dark brown eyes were shining with paternal warmth. Smiling broadly, he clapped a large and calloused hand on Fenn’s shoulder. “Congratulations, son.”

“Thanks,” replied Fenn automatically. “But...er...what exactly did I do?” A roguish smile had worked its way onto his face; he thought he knew what it was all about.

Fenn’s parents exchanged proud glances before Heidi finally burst out, “You’ve been made a prefect, Fenn!”

Fenrir gasped a little, and then smiled widely. He had, of course, been expecting this--certainly there was no other Slytherin better suited to the position than himself--but to hear the words spoken was a delight in itself. Bounding up out of bed, he turned happily to his parents. “Well? Where’s the badge?”

Michael laughed lightly. “Slow down, slow down. There’s plenty of time for that later. Let’s read the letter first.” Seeing Fenn’s face fall almost comically, Michael chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Just kidding, son,” he smiled fondly, gesturing down the hall. “I know, it’s all about the badge, isn’t it?”

The Grey family had rented out a small summer home in Layona--a truly delightful little cottage, with two bedrooms and tiny bath that smelled of pine and rainwater. The little procession made its way through the narrow little hall to the sitting room, which consisted of a homey fireplace, a number of musty old sofas, and a small kitchenette. And there, perched upon the windowsill, was tall, proud owl.

Fenn’s hands were shaking ever so slightly--with excitement, no doubt--as he beckoned to the handsome tawny bird. With a low hoot and a ruffle of wings, the owl launched itself into the air and landed on Fenn’s outstretched arm. He pulled off the heavy letter and looked at the unbroken wax seal before giving his parents a disapproving look.

“You opened it?”

Fenn’s father smiled rather sheepishly. “Well, we had a feeling we knew what it was, and we just had to check. Your mum told me to seal it up again so you’d have the satisfaction of opening it.”

Pausing only to roll his gleaming gold eyes, Fenrir eagerly ripped open the envelope and scanned the parchment he’d been given.


Dear Mr. Grey,

On behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I am very pleased to inform you that you have been selected as a prefect of the Slytherin house for the next three years. As a prefect, you will be expected to uphold certain duties and responsibilities, which include but are not limited to: patrolling corridors with another prefect at appointed times, assigning detentions and punishment to fellow students as you see fit, and assisting Hogwarts teachers and staff in various jobs throughout the school.

You are to meet the Head Boy and Head Girl in the Prefect’s compartment of the Hogwarts Express on September the First. I trust that you will continue your academic and behavioral excellence for your remaining years at Hogwarts.

Sincerely,
Professor Horace Slughorn

Head of Slytherin House


Feeling warmth and happiness surge through him, Fenn reached again into the envelope and withdrew a large green and silver badge. He rubbed his thumb against the shiny, polished surface, and turned to grin at his parents. “Nice, isn’t it?”

To Fenn’s intense embarassment, his mother’s eyes were filling up with tears. “I’m so proud of you,” choked Heidi proudly, while Fenn averted his eyes. “What would you like to do today? You name it, and we’ll do it.”

Fenn perked up at this. “Let’s go on a hike!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up with eagerness. “I know we were planning to go next week, but let’s do it tonight instead. I really want to see the forest by moonlight.”

Heidi, however, bit her lip at this. “I’m not to sure...” She trailed off as a look of disappointment crossed her son’s handsome face. “Well... You and your father can go, I suppose. But please, be safe.”

Fenrir reached out and embraced his mother in a warm hug. “I promise, Mum,” he said seriously as he placed his badge carefully into the envelope once again. “I’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was finally nightfall. The setting sun was as red as blood against the dusky purple sky, a fiery orb sinking beneath the gently swaying canopy of trees. The air smelt warm and damp, and age-old piles of loam and moss gave way under the booted feet of the two adventurers.

Fenn and his father walked together side by side, their plain black ropes swirling around them. The path they were on was overgrown; it was clear that no one had come this way in a very long time. Here and there, Fenn could see discrete signs of forest life: paw prints along a stream, a stray feather here and there, hoofed footprints made by a doe and her fawn. The forest was quiet and dark but in a way, mysteriously inviting.

The forest engaged all of Fenn’s senses; he was constantly hearing, seeing, and smelling things he had never noticed before. He could sense a stream long before he saw it and could hear the pattering steps of small rodents and the quiet hooting of owls from what seemed like miles away. The air felt heavy and old, very much like the ancient trees that surrounded them in all directions.

As the last glimmer of sunlight dropped out of the sky, Michael raised his slender oaken wand. “Lumos,” he murmured quietly, gesturing for Fenn to do the same. Their wands twinkled simultaneously into light, illuminating the darkened forest around them.

Fenn smiled happily at his father. Ever since he had begun Hogwarts four years ago, Fenn had missed the excursions he and his father used to take together. They were, after all, kindred spirits; both father and son had a thirst for adventure and nature, and they immensely enjoyed the time they spent together.

Before long, the full moon had risen. A delicate silvery orb, it glimmered and shone through the velvety night sky, luminous and pure. Exchanging a glance, both Fenn and Michael extinguished their wand tips, content to walk together by moonlight.

As father and son strode along the overgrown old path, Fenn was alerted to a strange, keening sound in the distance. Feeling an inexplicable chill crawl across his spine, Fenn cast as sideways glance at his father, who seemed not to have noticed. Michael looked to be half asleep, his eyes barely open. A wave of recklessness surged through Fenn, and drawing his wand, the boy slipped silently away to investigate.

Stealing quietly toward the direction of the noise, Fenn felt a thrill of excitement course through his veins. With a twinge of guilt, he realized how frightened his father would be when he realized that Fenn had given him the slip. However, at the moment, Fenn didn’t care. Holding his breath, he quietly approached a clearing where a small brook gurgled and tinkled over a bed of smooth grey rocks.

The strange noise sounded again, this time much closer. For the first time, Fenn felt truly afraid. Taking a deep breath, the husky boy gathered his courage and stepped forward to cross the stream.

“Arghh!”

Fenn let out a wild cry as he lost his footing on the smooth, slippery stones and plunged downward to the ground. His wand flew out of his hand, and he heard a sickening snap as he landed heavily on his wrist. Moaning in pain, Fenn sat in the middle of the icy stream, nursing his broken bone.

After what seemed like hours, Fenn rose painfully to his feet. Seeing the wand lying several yards away, Fenn walked gingerly toward it and bent over to pick it up. As he did so, however, he felt the unmistakable sensation that he was being watched.

Turning around slowly, hoping this was all a terrible dream, Fenn found himself gazing into the most nightmarish apparition imaginable. A pair of keen, yellowish eyes approaching him in the darkness--nothing more, nothing less.