Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.
Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition / Season Six, Round Seven
Team: Puddlemere United
Position: Captain
Prompt: The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008) — (A/N: My inspiration came from the scene where Lin summoned a group of yetis to fight for the heroes. She is able to speak with them, which surprises her companions. There is a real event in the history of MACUSA, according to Pottermore, where the headquarters was attacked by Sasquatches in 1892. That was when they finally moved it to New York.)
Word Count (not including title and author's notes): 2468 (Google Docs)
No Magic / Many Talents
.oOo.
December 12, 1891
.oOo.
Sophie Hendrix was tired.
She sat in her office, nothing more than a tiny closet in the back corner of the university's linguistics building, and twirled her quill. Her colleagues called her old-fashioned for using them, but it was hard to break childhood habits. She took the harsh teasing as best she could, but it still stung.
In a way, it was just another reminder that she was different.
As a child, she never had bouts of accidental magic, and when she failed to get her Ilvermorny letter, it confirmed everyone's suspicions that she was a Squib. Her parents weren't sure what to do with her at that point. It wasn't their fault, and Sophie didn't blame them—much. Besides one of Sophie's older cousins on her mother's side of the family, they came from a long line of witches and wizards. So, she was sent to live with her cousin Anna, and her new husband, Derek, across the country in Washington.
It wasn't easy for any of them. Sophie had to get used to the No-Maj way of living, and Anna and Derek had to take care of an eleven-year-old child. They never resented her, though. Anna baked cookies and desserts with her on the weekends, and in the evenings when it was just the two of them, they talked about the world that rejected them.
Derek, a professor at the local college, helped her catch up in school. It was then that Sophie discovered that she had a natural talent for picking up languages. No matter which one Derek presented to her next—Latin, Greek, Gaelic, Mandarin, it didn't matter—Sophie found each one as simple as breathing.
And while she couldn't boast fluency in every one she tackled, she was completely confident in at least twelve—plus Latin and ancient Greek—before she turned eighteen.
When she was old enough, Sophie immersed herself in the world of academia, a strange and often-criticized pursuit for women of the time. She knew she would never be a professor or considered equal to her male counterparts at Washington University. Sophie probably could get the title if she transferred to one of the Ladies' Colleges, but she was stubborn. Her family had sent her away, and the world that she had loved as a child had rejected her.
Society may deem her as less than men and dictate her place in the world, but she refused to accept that.
So she kept her position as an archivist for the linguistics department—a job that most men saw as beneath them. One more than one occasion, she was called a glorified librarian.
Let them laugh.
Recently, this had become more of a side job for her, anyway.
"—drix? Ms. Hendrix, are you alright?"
A soft voice pulled Sophie from her thoughts and memories. She turned toward the doorway and saw Brian Smith standing there. He had his hand poised over the door as if he had been knocking. She smiled. Brian was a good kid. He was a nephew of one of the professors and tended to make his appearances around the holidays.
Since it was right before the Christmas holidays, she wasn't surprised to see him.
"Yes, I am quite alright, Mr. Smith," she replied. "I was simply lost in my thoughts."
"Oh, well... Okay," he said, shuffling his feet slightly. Sophie thought that he needed to gain some confidence before he could excel in academia. "I was just wondering if you needed anything before I left for the day."
Sophie couldn't help it. She laughed.
"Is it that time already?" She checked her watch, which read 5:07 PM.
If she wasn't careful, she was going to be late. Sophie quickly gathered her things and packed them in her bag, making sure she grabbed her leather journal.
"Oh, are you leaving, too?" Brian asked, confusion coloring his voice. He, like most people, was used to her staying late.
She nodded and left the office, locking the door behind her. Adjusting the shoulder strap of her bag, she walked down the hall. Brian followed closely behind her.
"I have to leave now, Mr. Smith." Sophie decided to explain after walking in silence for a couple of minutes. "I am...I am going camping, and I do not wish to be late."
"You?" Brian exclaimed. "But you're just a—"
He stumbled over his words as she raised a delicate eyebrow, daring him to continue.
"—just an academic?" he finished weakly.
"Thank you for your faith in me," she replied dryly. They made it to the edge of campus in relative silence after that, just as the horsecar was pulling to a stop.
Brian offered her a hand, which she took, as she stepped onto the tram.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked.
"Mr. Smith," she replied sternly, her patience finally evaporating, "will you be alright? You seem to be having a difficult time comprehending the fact that I, a woman, am going camping alone."
"You're going alone!"
Sophie closed her eyes and counted to five. The horse pulling the car nickered, and she could feel the driver's eyes boring into the back of her head.
"Mr. Smith, this is not the first time I have conducted such an outing, and as you can see, I am quite fine."
"But it's cold!"
"Then I shall make a fire," she replied, her voice softened.
He was concerned for her. It was misplaced but rather sweet. She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. One day, he would grow into a fine man.
"It is only for the weekend, Brian," she told the young teenager. "I will be back on Monday."
He nodded and stepped back. The driver gently flicked the reins, the horse shook its mane, and the tram pulled away.
.oOo.
The night was unusually dismal and cold.
Sophie huddled outside her tent, stoking a small fire into existence. A thick layer of clouds covered the stars. Normally, she didn't have these many problems setting up camp. It seemed like every little thing could have gone wrong.
The fire was not starting easily; her tent had collapsed twice; one of the laces on her boots had broken. This trip was not going to be easy.
And it was all to study Sasquatches.
If Anna and Derek knew what she had been up to over the last few months, they would have killed her—never mind the fact that she was a twenty-seven-year-old woman and lived on her own.
Derek would have told her this was a mistake. If anyone from the University found out about her new hobby, she would lose all the credibility she had worked so hard to get. She could hear his voice now, disappointed and confused, asking her why she was searching for myths.
After all, cryptids weren't real.
On the other hand, Anna would be distraught with worry. She would tell her that Squibs have no place pretending to be magizoologists. It is dangerous for them to handle the most harmless magical creatures, let alone unpredictable, angry Sasquatches.
Despite her struggles, Sophie knew that they were both wrong.
She heard things, snippets of information here and there from the wizarding world. Her parents might not talk to her, but her younger sister occasionally sent an owl. They were behind the times in many ways, but Sophie saw unfortunate parallels between the two societies.
Namely in how they treat minorities.
Women struggled to earn a place in the No-Maj world, while intelligent magical creatures and other hybrids— like mermaids and werewolves—had practically no rights. Some wizards might claim that they were better than No-Majs, but Sophie found that both worlds had terrible people. No one, no matter who they were, was better or worse than another simply because of their heritage or blood.
That was why she was out in the middle of the freezing woods. If she could study the local population of Sasquatches, not only their behaviors and culture but also their language, maybe she could help prevent a tragedy in the future.
No one else was trying to bridge the gap between the worlds. It felt like no one wanted to understand the other.
It was up to her.
People thought that the curse of being a Squib was that they couldn't use magic. Sophie knew that was not true.
The real curse was people constantly mocking and pitying her for not being able to do magic. She saw every wonderful, magical thing, but was not allowed to participate. The No-Maj world was fine. If her parents hadn't sent her away, Sophie believed that she would have never discovered her talent for linguistics.
It was just that, in a lot of ways, she felt like she didn't belong in either world.
She added a little more kindling and the fire suddenly caught. Sophie grinned.
But before she could celebrate her victory, the brush surrounding the clearing rustled and a low growl echoed in the night.
.oOo.
August 23, 1892
.oOo.
Sophie wandered around the kitchen of her small apartment. It was early, the sun wasn't up yet, but she was craving a cup of coffee. Gathering the ingredients to make a pot, she almost missed the tiny owl pecking on her windowpane.
Setting the coffee filters down on the counter, she opened the window, and the bird fluttered inside. A scarlet envelope, almost as big as the poor owl, was tied to its leg. Quickly relieving the bird of the letter, she noted that the seal on the back was of MACUSA. Breaking the wax, the message came alive.
'Greetings Ms. Sophie Hendrix,
We have been following your research carefully over the past eleven months. We thank you for upholding the Statute of Secrecy, given your condition, and believe you might be of assistance to us. It is an emergency. The letter is a Portkey and will take you directly to MACUSA headquarters.
Best Regards,
James Picquery, Director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures'
"Wait—!"
Her protest was cut short as the letter glowed blue, and she disappeared.
.oOo.
She opened her eyes and found that she had landed in the middle of a nightmare.
Broken chairs and desks littered the area. Beautiful stained glass windows were shattered. But the enraged, rampaging Sasquatches in the lobby were what immediately caught her attention.
There must have been two hundred of them; she had never seen so many clustered together. The typically placid creatures sometimes gathered in groups of three or four, but that was rare.
This was unprecedented.
She watched, her eyes wide in terror, as a group of four wizards raised their wands against one of the smaller Sasquatches. Its tawny fur and awkward limp immediately told Sophie who it was.
She would have recognized that Bigfoot anywhere.
.oOo.
But before she could celebrate her victory, the brush surrounding the clearing rustled and a low growl echoed in the night.
"Hello?" Sophie called out, suddenly regretting all of her decisions.
The creature growled again, and she picked up a flashlight. It didn't seem like it was going to charge her. No, it almost sounded like it was in pain.
Slowly, she walked forward, out of the clearing and into the trees. The sounds and scents of the forest completely enveloped her, and she felt her shoulders relax a little. It was almost peaceful—ignoring the fact that she could be eaten alive at any moment.
She scanned the forest with her flashlight. It took a minute, but she found the source of the wretched sounds.
It was a baby Bigfoot.
The tiny creature saw her and began to scramble away, only to be stopped by the hunter's trap that held its foot in place. It chattered at her, in a language that she didn't understand—yet. Carefully, she lifted her hands and slowly approached, conscious of keeping her gaze away from the creature. She didn't want to seem threatening.
"It is okay," she whispered. The creature stopped struggling and tilted its head.
"It is okay," Sophie repeated, gently resting her hand on the creature's fur.
"I can help."
.oOo.
Sophie would recognize him anywhere. His name didn't translate well into English, but from what she had learned of his language, it meant something along the lines of, "Icy River Over Rough Stones."
"Stop!" Her scream carried over the din. The Sasquatches had sensitive hearing, and each one of them turned toward her; the wizards followed suit.
"Do not hurt them!"
Sophie purposefully strode forward and stood in between the Sasquatch and wizards. She was a linguist, not a warrior, but she would always try to do what was right, not necessarily easy.
"They attacked us!" shouted a nearby wizard. "We're just defending ourselves."
The small Sasquatch—her friend—turned toward Sophie and began to explain. He used simple phrases; it took a few minutes, but eventually, she understood.
"He says you've been stealing their land and hunting their young," Sophie snarled. She turned her glare on the wizard who had spoken up, and he shrank back.
"She can speak Bigfoot?" he whispered to the witch standing next to him.
"That's why I called her," a voice spoke up.
Everyone looked toward the newcomer. An overly aggressive Sasquatch growled and launched himself at the wizard, only to be held back at the last second by Sophie's friend. Despite the tension in the situation, she was highly amused—he was such a small Sasquatch.
"Mr. Picquery," the outspoken wizard said, "Sir, we were just surprised, that's all—"
The man raised his hand, and the wizards fell silent.
"She is here to help us resolve this situation," James Picquery explained. His voice was calm but firm; it told everyone that there was no room for argument, just based on his tone alone.
"Anyone have a problem with that?"
No one spoke up.
James turned toward Sophie, his dark eyes twinkling.
"What do you recommend for a solution?"
She turned to her friend and relayed the question. The response was short and simple; an idiot could have understood it. And Sophie had just met him, but she knew James Picquery wasn't an idiot.
The Sasquatch howled, and Sophie grinned savagely.
"Move," she said concisely. "Move and leave them alone. The rest of the details can be worked out later—with my help. They do not want this getting messed up."
James smiled kindly.
"That," he said, "can most definitely be arranged."
"We're moving headquarters again?" The wizard from earlier began to complain until a look from his neighbor stopped him. Sophie hadn't learned his name, and she found that she didn't want to the longer the conversation continued.
"What?" he snapped. "This will be the fifth time in three years."
Sophie just shrugged.
That part was not her problem.