Twice the young woman slipped and had had to start again. She frustratedly swore that on her next trip down, she would make sure to tie a vine or something to make it easier. The water was poured into a dip in the ground and her horse drank gratefully. He was about to finish off the entire puddle when his sensitive ears swivelled, pinpointing a sound from within the forest. He stood up tall, alert.
"What is it?" Hermione cooed, having not heard anything. She reached out to touch his muscular neck, but the horse snorted loudly, taking a step back towards the ledge. "Hey, it's alright, sshhh." After another loud snort, the whites of Neville's eyes becoming prominent, signifying that something was definitely wrong and though she couldn't see anything, this was nothing if not a brave horse. They needed to leave before whatever it was he was afraid of had them trapped. Mounting in silence, she pushed him forward but he wouldn't go.
"Walk on." She asked a little more fiercely this time. He took a step or two but stopped dead again. The chill in the air that she had accounted to the wind was becoming so strong she could see her own breath. For the first time, Hermione heard something moving in amongst the trees. Someone was talking in a low hiss, their voice steadily growing more audible as she listened.
"Horse for dinner, peasant boy for dessert." A large pair of red eyes shone menacingly from behind the treeline. Hermione could feel the horse beneath her change, growing somehow. His neck rounded, head lowered, stance changing from flight to fight. "I don't think so, Neville. Not today." Turning her horse to face the ledge she desperately looked for somewhere they might escape. She saw nothing, only heard the creature advance, its heavy feet cracking tree roots as it advanced.
Now the creature was out of the tree line, Hermione could see it properly for the first time. She had studied mythology closely in her lessons with Professor Flitwick back at home. She thanked him for his thoroughness as she knew exactly what that thing was.
"Stay back Wendigo. I am of noble blood and should you spill it, an army of soldiers will be upon you."
"Ah, the boy is not a boy, but a young lady." It was evident the creature had already feasted today. Its pointed teeth were still stained with fresh blood. "Make sure to scream as loud as you can." The man-like beast crouched as if preparing to pounce. "It always did excite me. Even when I was Human." Its white skin was so bright in the sun Hermione had to consciously prevent herself from squinting.
Feeling his rider panic, once again Neville decided it was his turn to take the lead. He hadn't particularly wanted to engage in a fight he wouldn't win, but his sire's blood was in him too. Both his sire and dam were well known amongst horses for their skill and bravery and he refused to die so young, having accomplished nothing special. What was this creature but a human with a taste for the flesh of its own kind. He could kill it, but if there was another way, he would take that option. Hopping onto his back feet in a small rear aimed to get his young lady to hold on, he picked up canter down the edge of the valley.
Hermione let out a scream as her horse seemed to take matters into his own hooves. Looking over her shoulder she saw the wendigo begin to run behind them, snapping its jaws like a rabid dog, to her horror catching up. Neville seemed to be slowing down; they were running out of track. His canter was slowing with every stride and Hermione didn't understand why until the angle of the direction began to alter too. "Wait... No! DON'T!"
He was slowing down to get enough power beneath his hind to jump. He was going to jump the valley. The Wendigo was upon them and Hermione was almost thrown off when Neville bucked in an attempt to deter their pursuer. She heard one hoof connect and looked back to see whether it had been enough. Though the creature had only lost a few strides before it was chasing again, the young woman felt some satisfaction that the blood now covering its face was its own. As Hermione was busy watching their assailant, she didn't notice that the edge of the ravine arrive. Neville bunched his hindquarters, powering both him and his rider from the ledge. The shock change in motion cause Hermione to let out another scream, a scream that continued as the wendigo also took the jump.
Waiting to meet her death, the princess crouched low to Neville and closed her eyes. The jump was too big; he couldn't make it. Well, they were going to die but at least it would not be at the claws of the Wendigo, which were known for making the deaths of their victims excruciatingly slow.
Her eyes burst open at the sound of hoof landing on rock. Instantly happiness shot through her, but it vanished again as Neville's hind quarters scrambled at the edge of the slope, fighting with all he had to push them both safely onto the other side. Rolling from the saddle, Hermione was on land. Running forward she took the reins and heaved with all her might. Just as Neville managed to get one of his hind legs onto stable ground, the wendigo landed too, its razor claws making grappling holes into Neville's back just behind where Hermione had been sitting.
The pain was blinding. Neville knew nothing of the ledge, of his human, or what it was on his back. He knew only the pain and exactly what he needed to do to get away from it. The horse launched upwards, with a power nobody, including himself, would have believed he had. On landing, the Wendigo was subject to a ride unlike any other. Hermione had never seen a horse bronk like it. He was off the ground, rearing, bucking, spinning. It took a mere 8 seconds of this treatment to cause the Wendigo to lose its grip and fall. It hit the ground, rolling only once to its left; but once was enough and the wendigo fell.
There was a moment of celebration. She moved to Neville's side, patting him in an attempt to calm him down. As she made to lead him further from the ravine, she heard a sound.
"Help me! Please." Hermione walked slowly forward and looked over. Holding onto a root that jutted out from the steep drop was a man. He had long blonde hair and wore torn robes. "Please help me!" Hermione's mouth fell open. She recognised that man.
"Lucius Malfoy? You're dead, you died in the wars years back!"
"I'm slipping!" She looked about for something she could lower for him to take hold of. Her eyes fell on a length of vine. She pulled it from the tree and ran back, beginning to lower it to the helpless man. The hoofmark on his head made her stop. After Neville's valiant efforts to save both their lives she felt ashamed at her own stupidity.
"You are the wendigo. You tried to kill us." Their eyes connected for a moment and icy blue turned back to red. He leapt for the vine, not realising it wasn't attached to anything. Hermione looked away as the man fell to his death, letting out a beastly roar as he fell.
Swallowing back the bile in her mouth, Hermione returned to Neville and took hold of his reins. "Let's go." She turned to lead him somewhere she could look at his wounds. She was greeted with spear tips.
"You are trespassing, boy."
Brown eyes closed with an almighty sigh. "You've got to be kidding me."
