Despoiling Harry

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The characters and the situations within these fanfiction stories are not my property. They are the property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and others, and are used without permission; challenge to copyright is not intended and should not be construed. No profit is being made from the use of these characters and situations; these written-down imaginings are only presented in an internet forum for the interest of and consumption by the like-minded individuals who enjoy them and recognize them as unauthorized fanfiction only, and are not in any way meant to be confused with the originals NOR presented as authorized materials of these owners.

Company With Dinner
 by Amanuensis

Angsty drabble about Buckbeak. G-rated.

Buckbeak turns around three times before lying down. It's a habit he picked up from the Dogman.

He's not tired, but he's hungry. If he doesn't want to kick up a fuss, he'll have to do something else to take his mind off his hunger. So, he'll sleep.

But how strange, that his friend hasn't come tonight. The Dogman knows how much Buckbeak has hated being cooped up in this bad-smelling, bad-feeling place for an entire set of season changes. Buckbeak knows his friend doesn't like it either--there's almost never any smell of sky or grass on him. Buckbeak knows some Men are glad to stay inside these structures nearly all of the time, but not the Dogman. They were happier in the seasons before, when they were out on their own, hunting together.

Later, he wakes. Now he's ravenous. Though the window is large enough for him to force his way through it, he knows the Dogman doesn't want him to go hunting on his own. So, he kicks up a fuss. A loud fuss.

And soon, someone comes. But it's not the Dogman, it's his friend, the one who smells of wolf at times. Buckbeak's so occupied devouring the rats he's brought (fresh-killed, just the way he likes them) that it takes him a while to notice how sad the man is. He stays there for a time, stroking Buckbeak's feathers in the same way the Dogman does. Buckbeak pushes his beak against the man's face, glad to have been fed and wishing there was something he could do to make him not be sad.

He thinks it helps. The man puts his arms about Buckbeak's neck and stands there with him. Soon, he goes.

Belly full, Buckbeak turns around three times and settles in for the night. His friend will come. Tomorrow, he's sure.



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