Chapter 1
How Sir Harry slew a Gryphon and made a burrow free
When one moon had passed his since dancing with the woman of the falcon, it so happened that Sir Harry was travelling in search of quests to undertake and foes to overcome. And sore weary was he, burdened by armour and arms and suffering all the cruelties of sun and rain. Yet even so careworn, he rode straight in his saddle, lance at the ready, always alert. His faithful mount Hedwig stepped high, lest any passerby should she her at anything but her best; prideful horse that she was.
So Sir Harry and Hedwig passed through meadow and field, through hill and vale, until Lo! he espied the flight of a Gryphon in the distance. The gryphon swooped down out of sight behind a rise, shrieking loud enough to be heard from many leagues afar. Forthwith, the knight errant and his steed made haste to reach the dreadful creature, and put an end to its hunt, for such creatures were no friend to man or beast.
Then anon Sir Harry came upon the Gryphon. He drew upon the reigns to survey the scene; and he saw the gryphon dive down upon a family protecting their home and their animals. The cattle and the sheep and the chickens were being driven by the younger children into a clever passage in the green hill, while still the others were fighting the creature. Sundry missiles were being thrown, irritating the winged demon, while the oldest two sons, their long red locks streaming behind them, wielded long spears, which they used to fend off the aerial attacks.
Then Sir Harry commended himself to his Lady, touching his gauntlet to feather which adorned his helmet. And then, closing his visor, he spurred Hedwig forth. Such was the skill of the knight, such was the speed of the horse, such was the strength of the lance, such was the hardness of the lance head, that Sir Harry smote the Gryphon a great gaping wound in the wing. Yea, such was the mighty clash of knight and Gryphon that Sir Harry was thrown hard from his seat, his lance shivered, but the head still remained in the wing.
Then Sir Harry gained his feet and drew his sword which shone bright in the sun. And so he fought the gryphon in single combat. He matched his bright sword against the ragged claws of the Gryphon. They smote each other fiercely and bravely, Sir Harry giving many strong strokes to the wounded creature which could no longer fly for its torn wing. Alas, Sir Harry received as well as dealt, and with its strong wing and claws, the Gryphon struck the brave knight a fair blow on his left flank. Again, he was thrown to the ground. His armour had saved him from being mauled and torn open, but Sir Harry found he could no longer lift his left arm. And he was faint of breath, and sore wounded.
Sir Harry struggled to gain his feet as the Gryphon approached his prone form. He clenched his sword tightly, using his good arm to rise to his knees. But, the creature came upon him forthwith, and Sir Harry could make no defence against its upraised claws and the brave knight was prepared for his death when Lo! a brilliant flash of white blinded his eyes and he opened them to see a falcon dive down from above and strike the Gryphon in its eyes, blinding them with its sharp claws and beak.
And Sir Harry was amazed, for he knew this falcon and wondered at its sudden appearance. He used his sword as a crutch to stand again, and despite the pain in his breast he smote the blinded, enraged Gryphon, the steel piercing the creature’s hardened hide and feathers. Together, Sir Harry and the falcon slew the terrible Gryphon. And when the deed was done, Sir Harry swooned to the ground, and as lay stretched out there his last thoughts were on the falcon whose feather he bore.
Chapter 2
How, unlooked for, Sir Harry took on a page, and how and received another token from his beloved.
Then the family known to their neighbours as the Weasleys were amazed at the their deliverance from the dreadful Gryphon by the sudden appearance of the knight and his decisive charge. None had seen the timely contribution of the falcon, and so they wondered at the knight’s bravery and skill to slay such a creature by himself. Now, they rushed to his supine form and hurried to lend him whatever aid was in their power.
Upon opening his visor they marveled at the knight’s noble features, which were composed in the utmost expression of serenity and they worried that he was dead. But life yet remained in the breast of Sir Harry. He was carried into the ramshackle building built into the face of the hill; their burrow. They removed his helmet but feared to remove any more armour lest it cause further harm to the knight. And so they bathed his face and hair with cool, sweet water and sent their oldest son, Bill the Bold, to the herbalist. Having done all they could, the family prayed for the good knight’s recovery.
But the youngest son, a tall youth by the name of Ronald, putting little stock in prayer, returned to the site of the battle. The size of the Gryphon’s carcass stunned him, and he wished that he too could fight such monsters and perform deeds like the brave knight errant who had saved his family. He espied the knight’s horse guarding the spot where the knight had fallen, and he approached the horse, its white coat glinting bright in the sun. The steed suffered him to approach, but would not let him touch her. Instead she fixed a single large, unblinking eye on him, unnerving in its intelligent, knowing look. Then she turned her head to look at the ground.
Ronald followed the horse’s gaze and saw the knight’s sword abandoned on the ground, its blade caked with dried blood. He reached down to grab it, intending to clean the blade before it would rust, and as he did so, he saw a feather glinting in the mud right next to the sword. The feather was clean, unsullied by either mud or blood, and Ronald would not leave it behind.
Then he returned to the burrow, and moved through the crowd of his brothers and sister to reach the unconscious knight, ignoring his siblings’ cries of “What is that you have with you, brother?” And Ronald beheld the stricken knight and lo! espied the same feather on the knight’s helmet that he held in his hand.
“Why this feather must belong to the brave knight,” said Ronald, and he affixed the second feather to the helmet. Anon, the knight opened his eyes, and looked around himself in bewilderment. Ronald saw his sister Ginerva gasp and hide her face behind her hands as she took in the brilliant green eyes of the young knight. But ere anyone could question the sudden recovery of the knight, he himself spoke.
“To whom have I the honour of speaking with?” he asked, courteously, but then exclaimed in much louder voice, “What of the Gryphon?” His countenance, previously serene, now became anxious, and he moved to rise from the bed.
Ronald’s father pressed the knight gently back on to the mattress, reassuring him that the terrible Gryphon was slain by his own hand. “How can we repay you, good knight, for saving our lives and livelihoods?”
“As for payment I require none. Fortune has seen fit to direct me to your aid in a timely manner, and for that I am profoundly gratefully,” said the knight, but his hosts would not hear of such modesty and insisted that he ask for something, anything.
“If that be so,” said Sir Harry, “I beg leave to remain here until morning, for I am in great need of rest and food.” The Weasleys accepted this offer as the bare minimum of payment, and his hostess hurried off to prepare a feast for the knight-errant. The crowd around him dispersed, but Ronald remained nearby and seeing the youth, Sir Harry beckoned him closer. “What is that you carry?” he asked, seeing him with his hands behind his back.
Ronald revealed the sword, worried lest he upset the knight in any way, for such were the whims of knights-errant and their kind. He said, “Your sword, sir. I found it beside the corpse of the Gryphon. Your horse was guarding it, and I meant to clean the blood off before I brought it back to you. I didn’t mean anything by it, sir.”
The knight laughed, despite the pain in his ribs, and laughed gaily. “Why, you have the makings of a squire! I thank you. Bring me my saddlebags, and I will show you how it’s done.”
But, that is not the end of this tale, for another surprise lay in store for Sir Harry that night. The brave knight lay awake, despite his sore need for sleep, holding his helmet before him. His gaze was fixed on the two feathers, each faintly luminescent in the dark. He ran his fingers over them, thinking back to her sudden appearance in his fight against the Gryphon, without which he would be dead. How had she known of his peril?
The door creaked open, and drew his eyes away from the feathers, only to meet the eyes of the Lady of his thoughts. She was tall and fair, and seemed to glow from within, like the feathers. Sir Harry sat up, ignoring the discomfort, but she halted his words with a gentle finger on his lips.
“Hush, my brave knight. There will be no dancing under the stars tonight,” she said with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye. She then looked at his helmet, and the two feathers. “I see you are collecting tokens from me,” she teased.
Sir Harry said, “As many as I can, my lady.”
She laughed. “Then I will leave you with one more ere I depart,” and so saying she bent over him, smoothing his brow with a cool hand, and pressed a soft kiss to it. She drew back slightly and said, “Rest now, Harry. I shall be watching.”
She pressed her lips against his own for a moment, and Harry felt the pain in his arm and breast lessen, before falling blissfully asleep.
Thus endeth this tale of Sir Harry Potter, who slew a Gryphon and so doing, gained a page and an unexpected visit from his beloved.