After he finished crying, Harry had peppered Lady Weaver with questions. She had told him more about the Grand Spirits, ancient beings like herself with enormous powers that occasionally treated with humans, and he had resolved to be as polite as he could if he ever met another and to be very, very careful not to accidentally make a deal — Grand Spirits weren't nice. They weren't nice at all… and saying their true names drew their attention to you, no matter where they were. The idea was terrifying.

Some, though, like Lady Weaver, were at least not cruel. They dealt fairly, not seeking to twist the terms of their bargains, and could be counted on not to attempt to trick a human into some kind of contract. They didn't engage in petty cruelties for their own amusement. As such, Harry had confidently added "Human Friendliness Level: Moderate" to Lady Weaver's page, before including a brief biography of Arachne as told in her own words. Before he had left, Lady Weaver promised that she would show him the next step in her art tomorrow. There had been an extra spring in his step as he headed out to the garden to talk to the girls.

"Hello, everyone!" Harry chirped.

"Oh, it's the little human!"

"Hi, little human!"

"Little human! Yay!"

Harry was immediately swarmed. Even he wasn't sure how many of the girls lived in the garden — they seemed to multiply whenever he wasn't looking. He laughed as he received dozens of tiny hugs.

"I started the Project!" Harry declared, holding up his book.

"Project?"

"What project?"

"Is it about food? I'm hungry."

"The little human is talking about his cat-a-log, idiot!"

Harry recognized the final speaker, and was unable to hold in a snort of laughter as she slapped the hungry one upside the head. Most of them seemed to have very short memories, but this one never seemed to forget anything and had fashioned herself little fake, lensless glasses out of a twig about a year ago. Like all of the others, she had no name, but she seemed to be as close to a leader as they had.

"The cats are that way," the glasses-wearing girl continued, pointing down the street towards Mrs. Figg's house. "I haven't seen any come by today. I'm not sure where you can get a log, but I assume you have that under control."

Harry covered his mouth to try to hold in his giggles, but failed. "A catalog is a book that has information in it," he explained. "I want to draw you and write about you."

"Really?"

"You want to draw us?"

"Me! Me! Draw me!"

"No, draw me!"

"Draw us together!"

"I'll draw all of you if you pose as a group," Harry offered. "I don't think I have time to draw you all separately." He was planning to cover the girls as a single classification, after all — the catalog would include individual entries for unique beings like Lady Weaver, but it wasn't meant to cover every individual member of each species that he met.

It took almost half an hour to get all of the girls who were interested in being drawn to gather together and remain mostly still. It was definitely an interesting portrait — by the time he was done, he had needed to depict six separate fistfights, four pairs and three quintets who couldn't keep their hands or mouths to themselves, nine girls giving bunny ears or moose antlers to each other, and nearly three dozen different kinds of silly expressions. It was exhausting, but it was also a lot of fun — there was never a dull moment when Harry was spending time with the girls in the garden, even if their pranks could get a little dangerous sometimes. One thing that definitely had to go into their entry was that you should never, ever try pranking them back — they'd take it as a challenge and escalate, and Harry had only survived his foolishness due to the intervention of a sympathetic tree spirit.

"Do you call yourselves anything?" Harry asked, shaking his wrist to try to ease the stiffness that had set in after so much work. The question was met with dozens of questioning looks.

"Call ourselves anything?"

"What does that mean?"

"You mean names? Like humans do?"

"No, I mean, like… like how I'm a 'human'," Harry corrected.

The girls began muttering to each other in confusion, and the one wearing 'glasses' floated forward.

"Why would we do something silly like that?" she asked. "You humans are the ones obsessed with names. We're just us!"

"Would you mind if I made something up for my book?" Harry asked hopefully. "I can't really leave your section untitled…"

The muttering became more heated, and Harry saw several frowns being directed his way.

"If you really have to, I guess it's okay," the glasses-wearing girl grumbled. "But it had better not be something mean!"

"I was thinking of just calling you 'garden fairies,'" Harry admitted. It wasn't very imaginative, but he thought it fit.

"Garden fairies…" the glasses-wearing 'fairy' mumbled. She turned to look back at the others.

"I like it!"

"I don't."

"This is stuuupid. Can I go sleep?"

"It's okay I guess."

"Do any of us actually care?"

"You can use it," the glasses-wearer finally decided, "as long as you don't say we use it."

"I can do that," Harry agreed, making a note of it in the book. "Is there anything you want me to say about you?"

"No," she snapped, folding her arms. A number of the others copied her. "Just write what you want." She turned up her nose and spun around, disappearing into the foliage. A moment later, the garden looked empty.

Harry sighed. He had forgotten just how much it irritated the garden fairies to be involved in anything they thought of as 'book learning,' but in his defense the Botany Guide Incident had happened almost two and a half years ago now. They'd forget about it and forgive him by tomorrow, though. He jotted down as many notes as he could think of, then looked up at the sky to judge the time. He probably didn't have enough time today to go talk to anything that lived away from Privet Drive, but…

Harry rose to his feet and brushed dirt off of himself. There was that creature in the alley down the block that he'd wanted to investigate for some time now, but he had always been a little too scared. That wasn't an acceptable excuse now that he had started the Project, though. If it was dangerous, it was all the more important that he record it.

He set off down the street, a determined look on his face. It was time to find out what lurked in the darkness.


Harry swallowed and clutched his book closer to his chest as he slowly stepped into the alley. The shadows were darker than the level of light suggested they should be, and they seemed to twist whenever they were in the corner of his vision.

"It's just an alley," Harry whispered to himself. "Nothing to be scared of." He tried to ignore the way that it had come out as more of a question than a statement.

The sound of movement startled him, and he jumped back — but it was just a rat scavenging in some of the garbage that had overflowed from a rubbish bin. It glared up at him with its beady eyes when it noticed that he was looking, and he quickly averted his gaze and tried to calm down his rapidly-beating heart. If only Aunt Petunia hadn't told so many stories about alleys being full of muggers and kidnappers…

Harry took one hesitant step forward, then another. The shadows pressed in around him, and he heard more movement, but resolutely ignored it. He recognized the sound now as nothing but the scurrying of rats, and as long as he didn't bother them they would leave him alone.

And that, of course, was when he tripped over a loose stone and found himself on the ground, face to face with a rat larger than he had ever imagined possible. He wasn't able to hold in a scream, though he choked it off as quickly as he could. The rat snarled, and Harry scrambled back…

…into a wall of blackness.


EXCERPTS FROM THE CODEX OF THE REAL, 6th EDITION

LADY WEAVER

Human Friendliness Level: Moderate

Threat Level: High

Abilities: Weaving

Countermeasures: Politeness, strong sunlight, owls

Lady Weaver is the use-name of the Grand Spirit Arachne, First of Spiders within modern Europe. She is generally of a kind disposition, but she loathes the jealous and will quickly grow wrathful if she lingers until the light of the sun. She is capable of fantastic feats of weaving, including the creation of magical garments that can provide the wearer with powerful blessings, and can be called upon to defend against a foe that seeks to destroy you for unjust reasons — but only at great cost.

When treating with Lady Weaver, it is imperative that one displays a high level of respect and acts with utmost decorum. She will not allow slights to go unpunished, and while she may be successfully appeased if a transgression was truly accidental it will still color her perception of the one petitioning her aid. She prefers to deal with those who possess a strong dedication to some form of art, even if their actual level of ability is low. A hard worker will find her a pleasant companion, but the indolent will soon learn to fear her biting wit.

She was born…

GARDEN FAIRIES

Human Friendliness Level: Moderate

Threat Level: Low to Extremely High (based on numbers and disposition)

Abilities: Manipulation of Nature

Countermeasures: Politeness, rings of salt

Garden Fairies (a name given to them for the purposes of this text, as they have no name for themselves) are amongst the most common Unseen Creatures. They dwell in every flowering plant, from the smallest to the largest, as well as in shallow bodies of fresh water. Garden Fairies possess an instinctive connection to the magic of nature that allows them to pull off magical feats far beyond what their small size suggests, and if enough of them gather together even a Grand Spirit should be wary.

They delight in mischief, happily playing 'pranks' that range from the theft of clothing to filling your nose and throat with water as you sleep. In large numbers, they have been known to throw the unwary forward or backward in time. If you find yourself being pranked by Garden Fairies, it is critical that you not react with anger or, worse, with an attempt to prank them back — they will see such responses as a challenge and escalate their 'pranks,' something that will almost certainly end in your death. They hold no malice in their hearts — indeed, they seem incapable of feeling that particular emotion — but also place no value on life, as death seems to have little hold over them. The author witnessed a Garden Fairy die in a fire started by an accident during a barbecue, but the same fairy was alive and well the next day.

Curiously, they cannot cross lines of salt, so if one finds themselves beset it is possible to ward them off by hiding within a salt circle. Their short attention spans will ensure that they will soon lose interest and wander away, unless their target has done something to truly rouse their wrath. They may be trapped within such circles, but this is something that only the very foolish would attempt — while normally cheerful, they loathe restriction. A Garden Fairy trapped in such a way will bear an undying hatred for the one who trapped her, and any Garden Fairies who learn of her imprisonment will feel themselves obligated to destroy the jailer and find a way to free their companion.

Their ecology is curious, as they appear to be an all-female species…


AN:

I meant to have this up two days ago, but I ended up without internet for a couple of days, ugh. That seems to be over now, though, so I'll be tossing up the next chapter tomorrow!

From here on out, there will be some Codex excerpts at the end of chapters where they're relevant. They'll generally be from later revisions of the Codex, because I don't think there's any way I could possibly mimic the way a nine-year-old would write something like that!