Author's Note: As a writer new to sharing my work on the internet, I had no intention of entering a contest. But I was very inspired by the Wattpad Community: Writer Moms group, started by @Ellen_Reese. I threw together 2000 words the day before the Open Novella Contest 2019 deadline and made it through the first round. I had no intention of completing 20,000 words but figured I ought to at least submit to 8000. And now my story continues to the end, but I've learned that with sharing comes responsibility.

I really wrote this story for the kids in my community and included some history about the California gold rush and its impact on Native Americans that I learned last summer visiting the Redwood Forest. Meeting writers online these last few weeks, I've started to learn a bit about the delicate nature of writing from another culture's perspective. Some would say that you should stick to your own perspective to avoid inadvertently disrespecting others. In my story, I included the perspective of a boy from this time with the intention of teaching the kids I know that not all people are free. I did my best to stick as much as I could to my perspective but I wanted readers to imagine how scary it must have been during that and the many other dark times in American (and world) history. I know Native Americans and many other people in the United States (and the world) are still oppressed and hope that each future generation will diminish that oppression.

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Thick fog lingered in the denser tree groves and smoldered in the riverbed. It twisted through the lush green vegetation inhabiting the forest floor. Absolute silence echoed between the giants who grew out of the earth so slowly any human or beast would swear they had never changed in their lifetime. Monstrous ferns randomly interrupted the complete stillness as water droplets rolled off their leaves, small timid swimmers ever so slightly bouncing the diving boards as they reluctantly tipped into the pool. A dull light cast from the gray sky gave no hint as to the time of day, the temperature no clue as to the season. The massive trees stretched hundreds of feet into the air, in various states of vigor and disrepair. All were old with intricate bark showing millennia of rain and drought, snow and heat. Some, healthy and robust, grew branches and leaves strong and green. Others scarred or burned, but refusing to die, unabashedly wore their battle scars, veterans of storms and plagues. Despite appearing half dead, they continued their steady climb to the heavens. Aggressive vines climbed some of these soldiers, greedy to find a light their peers, relegated to life on the ground, would never enjoy. Stripped of leaves, some giants ultimately succumbed to death and fell naked to the forest floor. New life sprang forth quickly from those who died and sucked their mother's nutrients into tender stems and delicate leaves until she disappeared into the dirt, existing no more, and yet reborn. The untouched forest existed before cities, before kings, before humankind learned to war, before most animals alive today. These ancient trees quietly witnessed history, not permitted to speak. Secrets remained safe with them, they had taken a vow of silence. And that vow could not be broken. At least most assumed so.

Talieson shivered in the cold, damp air. He wore shorts, but it didn't feel like July. Walking just a short way off the trail, the large wet leaves quickly soaked through his sneakers and socks. He didn't notice. He was eight, and it would be three years before his family revealed to him that he was a wizard. But that summer day he felt a force that made the skin on the back of his neck prickle. It compelled him to carefully step a few more yards off the trail to get closer to the creature. The underbrush reached his thigh, and he stepped up onto an enormous fallen log and carefully shuffled along the slippery surface. He pulled his mother's phone out of his pocket and centered the creature in camera's frame. He looked up as he clicked the button to take the photograph. And that's when it moved. Rather, it winked. Talieson's breath caught, and he slipped off his precarious perch, dropped the phone, and landed on top of a large wet fern.

"T-lie, are you ok?" yelled his mother running around the corner of the trail. Talieson felt around anxiously in the damp earth under the ferns for his mother's phone. His fingertips brushed the smooth plastic, and he shoved it back into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"I'm ok," he replied, pulling himself up and staring at the outline of the creature made of bark at the base of the redwood. It stubbornly remained as still as the rest of the giant trees in the forest. The vegetation reached his armpits and his sweatshirt was damp.

"The park rangers really want you to stay on the trails, sweetie," his mother sighed.

"I know but I needed to get closer to get a better picture. I was on a log, but I slipped off."

"Did you find another creature?" asked his mother.

"Yeah, look." He handed his mom back her phone. She looked at the tree and back at the phone. Something made him decide to keep the creature's wink to himself. It was just a tree after all. He must have imagined it.

"This is a great picture, I like it almost as much as the dragon and the snake we found. This place is magical," she wondered out loud, looking for the thousandth time toward the sky where the tops of the trees disappeared. "I think we should go back to camp and make some lunch. We should get you into some warm dry clothes as well," she said, smiling and putting her arm around Talieson. He had managed to free himself from the fern and retrace his steps across the log to get back onto the trail. His mom felt warm.

"Ok," he agreed, shivering, and they headed back to the car.

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It was almost midnight. Talieson and William sat close together on a large leather sofa in the Griffyndor common room scrolling through the pictures on Talieson's iPhone 12. Though he had been told that muggle electronics would not work inside Hogwarts, devious students had managed to find workarounds to the interference caused by the magical enchantments placed on the castle. All four common rooms had rigged Wi-Fi. Though most older wizards turned up their nose at the thought of utilizing muggle communication, by 2020 most younger wizards accepted that texting was more convenient than sending owls. Parents supported students having phones at school so they could Facetime with family, and while if caught in class, the Headmaster would transfigure your phone permanently into a toad, she turned a blind eye to their use during free time.

"Show me the creatures one more time," said William. Talieson scrolled past all of the images of creatures he and his mother had captured on their trip to the Redwood Forest three summers ago. There was a bear, a small goat, an alligator, a large snake, a small snake, and a short cute creature with large round wide-set eyes, a broad nose, and flat paws. William pulled the phone closer to his face when Talieson reached the creature. "Your dad thought it is a redwood dog? It's so cute."

"Well, he wasn't really sure. Many people who go to the Redwood Forest can feel the magic that lives there. My dad thinks said the giant redwoods are alive and were probably the ones to trap all those animals my mom and I saw in the trees. He told me the trapped animals were misbehaving and I should watch myself. My dad didn't remember what this little creature was called but said they are playful and naughty which is probably why this one was punished by the giant trees. He's probably been there a long, long time."

"We should try to save him," said William. "Hey, little guy you'd make a great pet." He tried to stroke its head in the photograph.

"He could sleep at the foot of my bed, and we could pilfer food from the Great Hall to feed him," said Talieson wistfully. "Hagrid would fall madly in love with him I bet. There must be a way for us to free him."

Curled up in a chair near the fire of the Griffyndor common room with her nose in an old-looking and obscenely large textbook, Rose Granger-Weasley sighed. "I'm going to bed before either of you get another clever idea to get us killed - or worse, expelled." She tried to pick up her mother's ratty old cat, Crookshanks, asleep on her lap. He growled with his eyes shut and sunk his claws into her jeans. Rose groaned, the pain reminding her of how irked she was at her mother for forcing her to take the mangey feline to school. She managed to free herself from the cranky beast and plopped him unceremoniously on the floor.

As a fifth year, following in her mother's footsteps, she was an exemplary student. But she was bored. In spite of her need for excitement, or perhaps because it, she had elected to take the first-year American Griffyndor students under her wing. They had initially floundered and suffered in British school culture not knowing the difference between trousers and pants, the meaning of basic insults like bullocks, and going without breakfast when beans on toast was served. As the school year came to a close, however, the Yanks had gained increasing confidence and had become as prank-loving as many other Griffyndors she knew. All too often she found herself complicit with their devious plans when she had meant to stop them. Without looking at either boy she snapped the book shut, sneezing from the large plume of dust that rose from its pages. She tossed the heavy book onto the sofa next to the boys. "That creature is real, and you guys are idiots for wanting to go and fetch it," she said, nodding at the peeling cover of the tomb with a look of disgust.

"If they were known to the Native Americans they may have been called chagutlsri hle meaning moon dog, in the Native American language Tolowa. Legends say these creatures were playful and like to play pranks. They would never hurt a human except during a full moon when they would become vicious to anyone they felt might be unkind or untrustworthy. They made good pets and were useful to keep werewolves at bay. The Native Americans could have really used their help."

"Wow, you found all that in a dusty old book?" exclaimed Talieson.

"No, our textbooks are just as biased towards a Eurocentric history of magic as the muggle history books have traditionally been. This book describes the North American Redwood Giants and the moon dog legend, but I found the Tolowa language and their history on the internet," said Rose, checking her phone briefly, then slipping it back into her hip pocket.

"Wow your mom lets you have a phone?" asked William.

"Your parents are both wizards, and they let you have a phone!" Rose huffed. "Just because my mom is the Minister of Magic, doesn't mean her children are doomed to a 17th-century lifestyle."

"Oh, sorry I just..." William's cheeks flushed.

"My dad got it for me," she added hastily. "By the way," she stated with authority in an attempt to change the subject, "the European muggles and wizards that colonized California were horrible, horrible people."

"Why?" questioned Talieson, he couldn't imagine horrible things happening in the beautiful forest his family had camped in.

"Explorers discovered gold in 1850, and hordes of Europeans came to the area in hopes of striking it rich. None of them respected the Native Americans. They pushed them off their land, hunted them for sport, and enslaved them. Those that resisted were labeled 'hostile' and slaughtered along with their children, " she shuddered. "The state of California paid them for their work." Rose looked nauseous. The boys sat in an uncomfortable silence contemplating this dark piece of American history. "Your forest witnessed a lot of terrible things Talieson. Your creature just sat there stuck in his tree. I know you felt magic in that forest, probably really old magic, but some of it was dark magic for sure. Really. Dark. Magic." She sat down and peered over William's shoulder at the photo he was still looking at on Talieson's phone. "Oh he IS cute," she exclaimed leaning closer. Talieson could feel William's back stiffen and his temperature rise with Rose pressed to his side. "But you can't traipse halfway across the world, release a million-year-old imprisoned magical creature, and bring it back to Hogwarts as a prank-playing pet," she lectured the younger boys. "How would you even get there?" Not waiting for a reply, she stood, shaking her head at the ludicrousness of such an idea, and walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. "Good night."

"Good night," replied the boys together. Talieson waited until Rose had closed the door to the girls' dormitory before he turned to William, a wild gleam in his eye. "My dad gave me two Portkeys when I left for Hogwarts. One to his childhood home on San Juan Island and another back to Hogwarts. He said I could sneak home for a few hours if I was feeling lonely. San Juan Island is close enough to apparate to the Redwoods."

"But we are first years we can't apparate," argued William.

"But Rose can. You saw how smitten Rose was with the little guy. It won't be hard to recruit her to our cause." William worked this logic through in his mind. The fire was low in the grate. Excitement shone in Talieson's face. "I'm telling you he winked at me. I know what I saw. He could be our pet! We could train him to break into Slytherin and eat their chocolate frogs and drink their butterbeer!"

Both boys sat staring at the dying embers. The temperature had dropped considerably in the common room. The portraits that lined the wall had long since gone to sleep.

"Let's do it!" exclaimed Talieson.

"Yeah!" smiled William coyly in complete support.