Now back at camp, Harry sat cross-legged atop a moss-covered stone, deep in the forest that the Hunt called home, clutching his most prized possession: a bright-green raptor plushie with button eyes and a comically toothy grin. The tag had said Velociraptor, but Harry had proudly renamed him Sir Bite-A-Lot, because obviously.
Sir Bite-A-Lot rode on his shoulder like a knight ready for glorious battle. Sometimes, Harry insisted the plushie was actually the general of his invisible dinosaur army. Sometimes, the Hunt entertained this. Other times, they quietly questioned Artemis's parenting policies.
Today was one of those days.
"Raaaaar!" Harry yelled, stomping through the glade.
Sir Bite-A-Lot flopped dramatically with each stomp.
Dryads peered from trees. Nymphs ducked behind flowers. A satyr who should have known better panicked and bolted, tripping over a tree root and tumbling into a lake.
Auron watched from a nearby branch, arms crossed, expression sliding between proud older brother / maybe father figure and concerned, this is my life now.
"He's… energetic today," he said.
Lily stood beside the tree, arms folded too, but with a soft smile. "He's happy. Let him be a kid."
"This is his quiet play," Auron muttered.
Harry suddenly lifted Sir Bite-A-Lot to the sky like a furry, toothy Excalibur.
"By order of the Raptor Kingdom! We declare WAR on—on—uh—grass!"
He swung his plushie like a sword, accidentally channeling wild magic. A puff of magic burst out, and suddenly.
All the grass around him grew three feet taller in an instant.
It swayed like a jungle of soft green tentacles.
Harry blinked. "...Oops."
Sir Bite-A-Lot stared forward silently, the true mastermind behind the uprising.
The nymphs squeaked. The satyr in the lake screamed. One wolf tripped and face-planted into the new grass wall.
Auron dropped from the tree and approached him, rubbing his temples.
"Harry."
"It was the grass's fault."
"Was it?"
"It insulted Sir Bite-A-Lot."
Auron slowly, deeply inhaled through his nose.
Lily tried not to laugh.
He knelt in front of Harry. "What do we do when accidental magic happens?"
Harry thought very hard. "...Blame the nearest satyr?"
The satyr in the lake: "WH ..WHY ME?!"
Lily burst into giggles. Auron shot her a betrayed look.
"No," he corrected, tone patient but strained. "We breathe. Control. Focus. Try to undo it."
Harry nodded solemnly. He held Sir Bite-A-Lot to his chest like a conduit of ancient dino-wisdom, then squeezed his eyes shut.
The grass… shrunk back down.
Not to its original height, though.
Now every blade looked like a tiny raptor.
Hundreds of tiny green grass-raptors hissed in unison.
Auron's eye twitched.
Harry gasped in awe. "Sir Bite-A-Lot… you have children."
Lily covered her face, shaking with laughter.
Artemis arrived, assessed the scene, and put her face in her hand.
"Auron," she said with resignation, "your brother has created a carnivorous lawn."
One of the grass-raptors chomped on the satyr's tail.
The scream echoed through the woods.
Auron sighed in eternal older-brother suffering. "I'll fix it."
Harry hugged his raptor plush. "I did great."
Auron gently flicked his forehead. "You made grass try to eat someone, gremlin."
Harry beamed. "Innovation!"
Lily kissed the top of his head. "He's creative."
Auron groaned. Artemis smirked. The satyr fled the forest, swearing never to return.
And through it all, Harry cuddled Sir Bite-A-Lot proudly, the future ruler of plushie-dino empires and grass-raptor kingdoms alike.
The Hunt had seen many strange things in its immortal existence.
But they were beginning to suspect that Harry Potter, age seven, king of raptor plushies, might one day out-chaos even the Fates.
And honestly?
The universe was not ready.