Tuesday, July 29th, 2014. 09:25 AM.

  Azkaban Prison, "The Rocks"

  The North Sea

  ***

  Harry took a deep breath, held it, then released, puffing out his cheeks with the release of pressure, both from his lungs and from his mind. Ginny had decided not to point Demelza at him, yet. Seeing Nienna come into sight on her broom was still an immense relief. And there was Belisarius, flying overwatch. He couldn't see Ath?na, but that didn't really worry him. He thought momentarily about twitting Ginny for overreacting, (just long enough for his sense of self-preservation to knock his ego to the ground and start stomping a mud puddle into its chest).

  Out over the waves, Nienna's broom suddenly shot forward, going from about twenty mph, up close to its top end. That took about a half second. In the half mile she had left to reach the beach, she demonstrated a repertoire of aerobatic manoeuvres that would put some International-Level Chasers to shame. And she did them without violating the one hundred-foot flight ceiling or the one hundred-yard Illusion limit.

  Harry watched her come in, in, straight over him, not seeming to slow at all. If he had been a mythical Falklands penguin, he would have rolled right over on his back. When she took a spine-cracking yaw to his left, he spun just in time to see her do a box-canyon turn into a gap in the low cliffs that lined the beach. He gaped, scanning along the cliffs to see where she would rise into sight.

  Apparently she wouldn't. Just like Harry wouldn't attempt low-level flying in that broken wasteland of volcanic and granitic rocks and spires. She appeared at the other end of the beach, barrel-rolling so close to a saw-edged obsidian cliff that she might have trimmed some trailing tresses.

  As she approached him, she braked with a move reminiscent of Dimi Berbatov at Bulgaria's World Cup game. She turned her broom vertical, feet on the footpegs and one hand on the shaft. She kicked free and landed, a little hard, while the Comet 520 flew up in a tight loop to return to her side.

  Nienna straightened up and grinned. "Apprentice Auror Robins reporting as directed!"

  Harry went blank. Completely at a loss, he was having to weigh reactions before he could even begin to form speech. Ath?na stuck her head outside Nienna's robes and gave him a puzzled look.

  "Is Ath?na wearing make-up?" Harry blurted out.

  Nienna and Ath?na looked at each other, and Nienna started giggling. "It does look like that, doesn't it?" The tiny owl's eyelids, ear tufts, and beak were tinted a shiny iridescent blue that, quite honestly, complemented her pale, tawny feathers well. Ath?na tilted her head to the side, batting her eyes beguilingly at Harry. Nienna giggled harder.

  Harry raised an eyebrow at the small owl, then reached out and grabbed his sang-froid with both hands. It had apparently, however, oiled up in anticipation of just such a move.

  "What was with...?" He waved his hands somewhat spastically, indicating flight, and speed, and stunts, and... everything.

  "That would be This One's doing, Oath-Brother of my Oath-Brother," said a voice almost as deep as Kingsley's. Another head appeared on Nienna's right shoulder... no, behind it. The skin was grey, the cheekbones were prominent, and the jaw showed tight muscles as he gave Harry a mirthless grin. He was gripping Nienna's epaulets fiercely, and had a similar grip on the fabric of her robes, below her armpits.

  Those are some ve-hery prehensile feet, Harry thought, as the creature dropped to the sand and came to the front side of Nienna.

  "This One has never ridden the sky-brooms before," he said gravely. "I asked That One to show me how they might serve a Warrior of the Tribes."

  The word 'Tribes' triggered Harry's memories. He looked a question at the girl.

  She nodded, "Minister Shackleford asked me to extend That One every courtesy, as One he has sworn an Oath to, and who has sworn an Oath to Him."

  Harry spoke carefully, watching Nienna for direction. "Does That One have... (Nienna's slight headshake stopped him from asking for a name), ...any needs that his Oath Brother's Oath Brother may provide... (Nienna jutted her chin a bit for Harry to continue), ...in his Oath Brother's stead?"

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Harry had read some about Pukwudgies. They thoroughly despised being in debt to another, especially one not of their own People. The Puks of Illvermony were still griping about the founder of the school saving their ancestor's life.

  The small creature relaxed slightly. "An' it be possible, This One and That One must speak of... life. And lives. Needed is a small place, in the wild, if possible, and a small, small fire." He detached a little pouch from his buckskin belt, handing it to Harry. "And a pot and cups for tea."

  Harry took the bag, but hesitated. "The Oath Brother's Oath Brother bows in apology, but must ask. Will the tea harm That One in any way? This must be known before proceeding. It is Spoken."

  The Puk's gaze seemed to carry a touch of approval. "It Will Not. It is Spoken."

  Harry turned to find Ginny, Daniel Weston, and Demelza Robins standing behind him. All three faces were perfectly composed.

  "One has the perfect place." Daniel's quirk of speech seemed perfectly natural, all of a sudden.

  Demelza spoke as well. "May That One's Mother Speak?"

  The Pukwudgie bowed low. "The Mother's Words are Law."

  "May This be Observed, With Oath Sworn to neither Speak nor Act until This is Done?"

  "If This Oath is Spoken... Yes."

  "This Oath is Spoken," said Demelza. The others repeated in turn.

  ***

  The small geome, biome, terrarium, whatever, was made of a long ago broken bubble in the uplift of obsidian. It had a diameter of a little over six feet at the mouth. From there, the walls curved out about another six inches, for a total diameter of seven feet. They curved back in to meet the wind-blow of earth, sand, and organics that made up the soil.

  The Puk looked much more comfortable in the small arbor made by the shrub yew. Nienna was framed by the wildflowers sheltered in this space, and vines with a precarious foothold in the cracks, almost in an arbor of her own.

  The Pukwudgie had built a small hearth of the cracked obsidian. Nienna had conjured a flame into it, taking care to make sure the heat only went upward. Obsidian was prone to spalling and shattering when exposed to magic flame.

  The tea steamed in a stone bowl fashioned of the dense granite of the area. Two cups of the same material waited to one side of the hearth.

  Nienna was only slightly nervous. She had a fairly good grounding on the customs of the Pukwudgie tribesmen. Over the years, as he relaxed into the job, Hagrid's lessons had gotten much more eclectic, and become much less dangerous. People going for their NEWTS in Care of Magical Creatures were no longer a ridiculous rarity. The subject was quite popular, in fact, and was almost a requirement to become an Auror.

  Nienna was just as aware of the life-debt aversion as Harry. And, frankly, she wanted nothing to do with it. Having a bitter, perpetually sullen slave was not on her To-Do List, and would never be. So she was watching the Puk's face carefully. She had to judge this just right.

  When she estimated the discontent she saw was just about to force the tribesman to speak, she spoke first.

  "You have saved This One's Life. We must Speak of the Debt Owed."

  The Puk's eyes widened as he spoke.

  "You have saved This One's Life. We must Speak of the Debt Owed."

  Nienna frowned. "This One has saved Your Life? Speak, how so?"

  THe Puk stiffened. "This One fell into the Hands of Foulness. One's Own Honour was turned to trap Him, and Deliver Him into the Hands of Dishonourable Death. You came forth with your Binding Magic and your Spirit Animals of the Sacred Owl. Your Bravery turned This One back from The Path that leads to the Great Spirit."

  He paused. "You say This One saved Your Life as well? Say now, how so?"

  Nienna nodded solemnly. "This One was Outmatched, Overwhelmed. My stratagems had all failed me, my Allies felled or Seeking Futiley for Help. A Girl-Child pressed by a Man's Strength, a Mad-Man's Fury. But Lying in My Arms was a Warrior! Weakened, but Not Defeated. Down, but Not Done. By the Strength of His Will, and the Sharpness of His Knife, He... You! You struck a Mighty Blow! A Telling Blow, a Cunning Blow, Taking Our Foe's Strength, and Leaving His Weapon in My Hand."

  "So." Her eyes were brimming over, but tears were no disgrace to the Tribes of the Pukwudgies. "I owe you a Life."

  He nodded slowly. "And I owe you a Life."

  They sat silent for a long while. After she thought long enough had passed, she spoke, as if a thought had just occurred to her.

  "An' we owe each other a life, neither can serve the other while still being served?"

  He nodded slowly, obviously wondering where she was going with this.

  "The mutual owing of life only occurs in one way."

  He still looked puzzled.

  "Lives are Owed, but Never Claimed, Given, but Never Taken... in a Family."

  His eyes widened as she kept speaking. "An' You were My Brother, an' I Your Sister..."

  "The Debts Owed," he breathed. "Would be No Debts at all!"

  His face clouded, "But the taking, as Family, of a Member of another Tribe... is Forbidden."

  Nienna gave a small cough to draw his attention.

  "I am NOT," she said. "...a Member of another Tribe."

  ***

  They both held the rock mugs of tea. Nienna took a sip. The tea was neither sweet, nor bitter, but tasted of Summer Sun on Grassy Fields.

  "I take You as My Brother."

  "I take You as My Sister."

  "Brother, What is to be My Name?"

  "Sister, I Name Thee, 'She Who Fights with the Sacred Owl at Her Side."

  "I Take This Name from My Brother."

  "Sister, What is to be My Name?"

  "Brother, I Name Thee, 'He Whose Knife Cuts the Wicked."

  "I Take This Name from My Sister."

  "I Greet You, Brother Knife."

  "I Greet You, Sister Owl."

  "I Greet You, Brother."

  "I Greet You Sister."

  "Your Enemies are Mine, My Family is Yours."

  "Your Enemies are Mine, My Tribe is Yours."

  "It is Spoken."

  "It is Spoken."

  ***

  Demelza looked down into the Hollow to see the last of the exaltation fade from Nienna's eyes. The Puk shook off something similar, and looked up to her.

  "I Greet You, Mother of My Sister."

  "I Greet You, Brother of My Daughter.

  He gave her the first natural smile she had seen on his stern visage. "So, is Shacklebolt here yet? 'Cause I'm ready to sort some wankers out!"