Early morning

He watched Feliks climb a flowering pear tree in the middle of the clearing.

The Forbidden Forest was thawing out from a long winter and its many trees were in bloom, leaves sprouting brightly for the weak morning light above. Gone was the crackling of frost underfoot. Instead, the great muddiness of spring had already began to soften the earth. Sylvain stepped back to get a better look at his charge, hands in the pockets of a brown corduroy jacket.

"Attention, mon garçon!" he yelled at the young wizard to be careful.

Not that the fall would be great. Compared to the towering trees that surrounded them, the pear tree was a squat thing. It was full of white flowers and there was a single unripe pear at the very top that Feliks insisted on plucking.

            "Je connais! called back the child, briefly looking down through the leaves.

He was fairly visible in his jeans and dark red sweater, and climbed barefoot. Apparently tree-climbing was one of few summer pleasures where Feliks grew up, in the Siberian countryside.

Sylvain had been taking the boy out on the grounds almost every Sunday morning. It had been awkward since it turned out Feliks had lied[1] about one of the sinister packages he received last month. But Sylvain didn't linger on that fact.

There were other adults who broached the subjects. He was here for Feliks to chatter and explore and feel more at home in this country.

A sound caused Sylvain to look over his shoulder, wary. It was only the snap of twigs underfoot - and there, headed towards them from the direction of the Greenhouses, was Professor Prewett.

"Bonjour!" he waved at the other wizard, smiling easily. The clearing was not far from the edge of the forest.

1.	March 17th - The Only Other Sound

Owen headed toward the voices in the clearing with a small basket filled with fruit from the greenhouses.  The  benefit of working  in the greenhouses, at the castle or back at the manor, was not always having to join everyone else for fresh food.  Sylvain had mentioned in passing joining him and Feliks on one of their treks into forest and the basket would do double duty for carrying back anything gathered once its current contents were picked through.

He raised his free hand in greeting as he approached.  "G'morning."  He looked up into the peach tree as he stopped next to the creatures professor.  "You know I used to give my mum fits climbing trees.  I'm not sure any of mine would even bother... should probably be thankful for that."  He plucked a strawberry from the basket before offering the basket to the other professor, "fruit?"

He was a nimble and cautious climber, pulling gingerly on each branch overhead before allowing it to take his full weight.

Once, when he was younger, a friend had broken their leg[1] falling from a tree. The sight of bone sticking out of flesh had been enough to drive a simple point home: if you were going to do something dangerous, you should do it well. That was what his papa said too, about handling dangerous beasts.

Feliks pulled himself up on to one of the highest branches with a huff, and shook out the twigs caught in his curls. He was sweating a little. It felt good. As he got comfortable in the slanting crook between trunk and branch, he glanced down through the busy leaves.

Professor Prewett had joined Uncle Sylvain, basket in hand.

He smiled to himself, legs swinging, and looked up to let a patch of sun fall on his face. Then he reached for the single pear just above his head and plucked it. It was round and smooth with a yellow spot indicating it wasn't ripe enough to eat. Feliks smelled the skin and breathed in deeply. The white flowers in the tree carried an earthen scent but the fruit had a sweet, fresh fragrance.

Not wanting to keep the wizards below waiting, he  slipped the pear into his pocket and began climbing down. The descent wasn't as tricky - Feliks had mentally marked out the branches strong enough to bear him.

1.	July 2009 - Summer Blows Cold

Sylvain couldn't help but grin at the other man, trying to picture a young Owen Prewett clambering up trees. He liked Owen - they both spent much of their time around nature, and appreciated the natural world for all its dangers.

"I was the same," he remarked as he helped himself to a strawberry. "Climbing up trees and running down hills. When you are young you think you are invincible."

Although, he thought, Feliks was too old for that sentiment. The boy was careful; even calculative, if his subterfuge was anything to go by.

"I think, today, we will go deeper into the Forest than usual. What are your thoughts?" he asked as he glanced back at the pear tree and spotted Feliks making his way down. "It should be safe, non? With two of us."

By himself, Sylvain wouldn't dare take the boy much deeper than the outskirts. He was comfortable navigating the forest but he took his responsibility seriously. But with two professors it did not seem risky.

On this thought, Feliks dropped to the forest floor from the lowest branch. He didn't come over the join them right away - the boy sat on the ground to put on his shoes first.

"I rarely got to run down the hills, my brothers usually made sure I was rolling down them," Owen said with a laugh.  They were good memories, even if at the time he'd been insulted in a way that only a younger brother could be.  He hoped his own children, and nieces and nephews, remembered these years as mostly good.  The past year had been rough on the family.

"Should be safe enough between the two of us.  I'd hazard a guess that the worst creatures are tucking in by now.  Though some of the meanest plants will be waking up about now."  He watched as the young Spectre put his shoes on. He wondered if he could get any of his kids out on a walk.  Probably not.  He supposed for students there was a difference between a professor who is a family friend and a professor who is their father.

"I hope he knows that peach isn't close to edible yet.  How often do you two come out here?"

When Sylvain first came to work at Hogwarts, he had felt overwhelmed by its atmosphere and people. His work in handling beasts had kept his disposition a young one - in comparison, his peers appeared mature beyond their years. And they were very much settled, roots grown extensively into their lives or families.

So there was a kind of joy in seeing Owen's youth shining through in a laugh, a glimpse of a boy who went rolling down hills. He mirrored the smile with an earnest one.

"It is a pear I think," Sylvain replied distractedly as he glanced at Feliks, who was mercifully displacing a slug from his shoulder.. "I try to arrange something every weekend, but less so in these days. He is growing."

By this he meant that Feliks was more comfortable now, with friends and hobbies and thriving interests. The boy walked up to them and grinned. "Bonjour Professor!"

They usually spoke French on their outings, which would not be the case today.

His easy conquering of the pear tree had given Feliks a wonderful thrill, the perfect way for them to begin their foray deeper into the woods.

"Oh but where is Marcel?" he looked around the clearing for Uncle Sylvain's merle Border Collie. The professor in question glanced up, pursing his lips into a sharp whistle. There was a rustle in the undergrowth across the clearing, and the dog bounded out with ruffled fur.

They never collared him, often sending the dog ahead on the path instead. Sometimes he got distracted by little animals or birds. Feliks raised his eyes to his Herbology professor as Sylvain gestured for Marcel to lead.

"Did Uncle Sylvain say?" he fell into his usual chattery ways. "We are going to a stream to catch fish with our hands! Or with rocks anyway." There was always something fun to do in the forest.

Feliks had learned to fish as a young boy - but only with rods or nets and, one time, a roll of wire. He enjoyed it and hoped that Sylvain would one day teach him to hunt other things; like rabbit or deer.

Marcel circled the trio and  then headed down a nearby path, where the earth between the trees was slightly more worn down.

"It is a pear I think."

Owen squinted at the tree, it was.  Merlin, how embarrassing.  Perhaps he needed to visit a healer for an eye test.

"Yes, they do that.  It's bittersweet when they have plans that don't involve you."

"Good morning, Feliks."  Owen started from the whistle.  Thankfully the fruit in the basket stayed in the basket.  He held the basket out, offering the boy some fruit while the dog joined them.

Catching fish with their hands.  That seemed unnecessary considering they had wands and the water was likely to be cold.  "He did not."  Owen would have chosen a different set of boots for such an adventure.  He had boots for walking around and wading through streams when he needed something from a stream.  The ones he had on would do, but they were not he best for it.  "Usually I'm just trying to get the fish to vacate the plant I want."

Sylvain smiled at Feliks, who laughed at the Herbology professor's quip. It was easy to amuse the young wizard - he delighted in the novelty of the world around him, a quality one hoped would not be too dimmed by his approaching adolescence.

Marcel trotted ahead cheerfully and barked at the odd bird or insect in their path. It was a lovely day, the kind that hinted at a lush spring, full of saplings growing into the sunlight on the edge of the path and the sounds of the waking forest around them. Sylvain felt at home here with the taste of fresh strawberries in his mouth.

"Non," he tousled Feliks' curls with a grin. "You are going to catch fish. But I will show you how first."

The boy was snacking on fruit from Owen's basket, nodding with his full mouth. Fuelled by a bottomless pit in his stomach no doubt. Marcel gave another bark, chasing a squirrel, and Feliks ran ahead after the dog.

"So much energy," Sylvain commented wistfully with a smile at Owen. "He was brought up with squibs - I think you know?" he spoke in a lower voice, unable to separate the different ways he learned about Feliks' life - either through his friend Balfour, or Greyfriar's briefings.

It was muddled in his head. Sylvain watched Feliks coax Marcel away from a tree, chatting to the dog about catching fish. "I teach him how to do everything by hand. Then, by wand. We collect herbs, carve branches, learn birdcalls."