|| Hecre's Theory ||
Written by Coretta
Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to either J.K. Rowling or C.S. Lewis. Everything else belongs to me.
|| Chapter Three ||
Adelaide Granger had always been adamant on having a tight-knit family. She had done a lot of travelling when she was younger, and a favourite area of hers was Asia. Asia was full of strange but wonderful foods and traditions, and one custom that had always stuck with her was the concept of the family being the top priority, the most important thing, the one constant when life was full of chaos.
Her own childhood had been full of loneliness and a certain detachedness that came with having a well-respected, slightly upper-class family. She had been proper, and perfect, and prim, but she hadn't had many close friends, if any at all, and her older sister Rosalind had always been far more in love with the idea of meeting handsome boys and having secret midnight trysts than forging a bond with her younger sister. The very idea that the two should even share a case of lipstick had been ridiculous to Rosalind Baker – family was only for status, and for power. Nothing else mattered.
When Adelaide had met Graham Granger, a young and handsome man with unashamed charm and shrewd intelligence, it hadn't bothered her that his last name wasn't prestigious, or that they didn't run in the same social circles. To her, all that mattered was the beautiful, lively, wonderful Sunday brunches he had with his large family, immediate and extended, that seemed to be the most enjoyable times of his life. She had fallen in love with Graham Granger – and Mildred and Elaine and Victor and Miles and Annabelle and all the other Grangers – at once. This was the man she wanted to have a family with.
Being Graham Granger's wife didn't mean being showed off as a trophy, or being used as a convenient tool for cooking and cleaning and serving, as she had always thought married life was. That was how it went with her mother and father. No, that wasn't what being a Granger was. Being a Granger meant excitement and adventure, and a life she had never known.
They had travelled extensively, and when they had gotten to Asia, she had been amazed to see that families could have even stronger bonds that that of the Grangers. Families didn't have to jealously guard their secrets and hold an emotionless expression at dinner – they could laugh, and tell stories, and reveal embarrassing moments with ease. Families could share their possessions, their emotions, anything. Families could have life.
These were the things that Adelaide Granger had instilled into, first, her one and only son, Charles Granger, and then into her one and only granddaughter, Hermione Granger. These were the values Hermione had been taught: family was not something expendable, it was something to be treated with love, and care, and loyalty, and devotion. Family was what Ron had with the Weasleys; it was what Harry did not have with the Dursleys.
It was this - this strong, core belief that Hermione held - that justified Hermione's shocked silence when Trumpkin told the four witches and wizards of King Caspian the Tenth's life until this very moment.
"So what you're saying," Hermione repeated for the third time, looking scandalized, "is that Miraz had his own brother killed off, as well as anyone else who could stop him from getting the throne. And then he attempted to kill his nephew, as well, when his wife gave him a son? That's disgusting!"
"That's Miraz," Trumpkin said grimly. "He doesn't have half the brain of a squirrel, but he's always had a lust for blood. All the Telmarines do, if it comes down to that, but His Majesty is a special case."
They had been hiking for a total of two days, and during that time, Hermione and her companions had found out a lot about King Caspian and this Narnian war. It turned out that when Trumpkin didn't have a knife to your neck, he was very loyal and enthusiastic, if dry and sarcastic at times. The redheaded Dwarf was fairly singing King Caspian praises, and barely did a half hour pass without Trumpkin saying something along the lines of 'There was a time when King Caspian was in this exact situation…' or 'If King Caspian was here, I'm sure he might have done this…' As such, the four had it drilled into their heads that this King Caspian was the most wondrous, resourceful, intelligent person they would shortly meet. Hermione wondered how this King Caspian hadn't overthrown Miraz if he was this wonderful and Miraz was as stupid as Trumpkin had made him out to be, but she didn't comment for fear of having her head bitten off by the impassioned Dwarf.
From what Hermione had been able to make from Trumpkin's jumbled and random telling, the past three years had been somewhat of a stalemate for Caspian and Miraz. Miraz had numbers, Caspian had skill. The bloodshed in Narnia was very high; Trumpkin had estimated that 70% of the Old Narnians had been killed off already, if not more. This was in contrast to the Telmarines, who only seemed to grow every time they came back to fight Caspian.
Those three years, the reign of the Telmarines in Narnia had grown stronger. When the Old Narnians had come out and revealed themselves to the Telmarines, they had expected the Telmarines to act in anger towards their government, who had always told them that Talking Animals, Dwarves, Giants, Naiads and Dryads were no more than fairytales. In actuality, even the authorities thought it was all stories. However, their welcome had been less than heartwarming. Instead of reacting in the way they had thought, the Telmarines had grown fearsome of the natives – and, as Hermione, Ron, Harry and Malfoy had experienced firsthand, fear incited anger and violence infused with passion.
Prior to the foursome's arrival in Narnia, there had been a battle between Caspian and Miraz at Aslan's How, where the battles always occurred. Caspian had won, but his army had only been approximately one hundred, and when the Telmarines had finally retreated, much of his army had been slaughtered. That night, Caspian's old tutor, a half man, half Dwarf named Doctor Cornelius, who had disappeared the night when Caspian had escaped Miraz's castle, showed up with something he called 'Queen Susan's Horn'. Naturally, at this part, Trumpkin had to tell them the stories of how the Royal Children had magically appeared from the same England that they had mentioned before and defeated a Dark witch named Jadis, effectively ending her 100 year reign. The Horn was a gift from Father Christmas to Susan, enchanted to bring help when blown. Caspian decided to blow it as soon as possible, and then there they were. Disoriented and in a completely foreign land with no idea how to get home.
Every time Trumpkin would volunteer a bit of this information, Hermione would soak the information in like a sponge, filing away useful tidbits. Harry would listen quietly and comment on those aspects which interested or appalled him, Ron would stop glancing around in paranoid fervour for spiders and Malfoy, much to everyone' surprise, would frown and concentrate intently on what was being said, instead of the loud complaining that he favoured when Trumpkin was not telling them stories. Trumpkin had quickly deduced that the blonde was not liked by the other three (he couldn't blame them) but that he was calculating, and his quick wits, obvious intelligence and seemingly no conscience had saved them from more than one possible encounter with death – including, but not limited to, killing a large, hungry bear with some of Trumpkin's sharpened sticks when the others hadn't had the guts to and Trumpkin had been otherwise preoccupied.
During the two days of hiking through Narnian terrain, Hermione and the other three had yet to do magic. There were many instances when Trumpkin would encourage them to 'do a bit of hocus-pocus' to build a small bridge, or move a fallen log, or cut down some vines. They all stubbornly refused, however; Hermione had come up with a ruse. As far as Trumpkin knew, they had only begun learning magic that year, knew only how to conjure water and fire, move objects and heal small cuts and were easily exhausted when using magic more than once in a day. The whole concept – especially the last part - was so ridiculous it almost made them laugh, but whenever they used it to explain why they wouldn't light Trumpkin a bonfire to save him from the manual work, he accepted it grudgingly. Hermione felt bad, but then the Dwarf would make some mumbled comment about them being 'practically useless' and anger would overcome her. Her being a Gryffindor, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to get him back for those remarks. Trumpkin, she knew, was getting suspicious about how he always seemed to trip over something or a 'bug' would always bite him whenever he said something like that.
"How long until we get there?" Malfoy whined from somewhere behind them. Hermione, who was leading the pack with Trumpkin, turned her head to look over her shoulder, and saw that 'somewhere' was actually something close to thirty metres behind them.
"Four hours," Trumpkin grunted. "For Aslan's sake, boy, keep up!" They had all been irritated with Malfoy's lethargic pace at some point in the journey, and while they could ignore the comments about how his feet were getting horribly calloused and how he'd never had to walk more than ten metres in his life until now, his sluggishness had slowed down their trip considerably.
"But I'm so tired," Malfoy said. "Honestly, I don't know how you lot can walk for so long without falling over." There was a pause. "Although I can understand the Weasel's case; he probably gets enough exercise doing servant work to be considerably fit for such an activity as this."
"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ron barked back angrily. Apparently, their 'truce' had extended only to not making attempts on each other's lives; Malfoy had continued to make acerbic comments towards all of them aside from Trumpkin. Why that was, Hermione didn't know. "At least I'm not a ponce who can't handle a little walking."
Malfoy seemed unaffected by the insult. "Walking, this is not. More like slave-driving. If Father was here, I'd have made him Side-Apparate me to this Aslan's How!"
"Side-Apparate?" Trumpkin questioned Hermione, sending her a sidelong (and because of his height, upward) glance.
"You forget, Malfoy, that you actually need to know what your destination looks like before you can Apparate there," Hermione retorted. "Unless you want to get splinched, which is actually much more preferable to listening to you moaning all the time." To Trumpkin, she replied in a curt voice, "Magical way of travelling."
"Don't be silly, Granger!" Malfoy shouted back to her. "I'm sure you'd love to hear me moaning, as you said, all day." The tone of his voice and the lecherous chuckle afterwards made it clear to everyone what he meant by that. At once, Ron's groans and Harry's disgusted retching sounds were heard.
"Ugh, Malfoy, that's revolting," Harry said in an oddly choked manner.
"What, that Granger wants to hear me moaning? Get in line, Granger, there's about a fair hundred other girls who would love-"
"No!" Harry said quickly. "It's revolting that you'd be moaning at all." He shuddered.
"Oh." They could hear the smirk in Malfoy's voice. "Well, actually, girls find it rather attractive. You see, there was this one Hufflepuff girl – Andrea something, I think her name was – and she found it positively delicious-"
"Please stop," Ron moaned. His voice was muffled, and when Hermione looked at him, she saw that he had his robe wrapped around his ears and mouth, trying to block out the sound of Malfoy's voice. It didn't seem to be doing much good. "Please."
"Hermione, tell him to shut up!" she heard Harry shout, sounding strangled.
"Jungles and junipers, if you lot don't shut your traps, I'll do something drastic!" Trumpkin suddenly bellowed, before Hermione could reply. The reason for his foul mood was soon clear when she joined him. Having reached the end of the thicket of trees they had been hiking through, they now stood on the banks of what appeared to be a river. That would have been all well and good, if it hadn't been for the fact that the river was raging so dangerously and violently that the bridge built across it was shuddering and moving with the weight of the flowing water. "Damn those Telmarines!"
"What do the Telmarines have to do with this?" Hermione shouted over the sound of the rushing water.
"They built the bridge," Trumpkin said with disgust. "In doing so, they angered and chained the River God that lives here. Though why the River God would be so especially angry today of all days…" He began muttering to himself, glowering darkly at the river.
"What's happening?" Harry asked Hermione loudly, suddenly appearing at her side. "Why's the water so fast?" As he said this, a large spray of water hit them all in the face. Hermione gasped, and her hands flew immediately up to her eyes and nose to cover them. She felt the unpleasant sensation of water getting into her underclothing, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that Ron and Malfoy had finally joined them, and that they were looking as uncomfortable as she felt. She spat out the water that had managed to get into her mouth, wiping it instinctively with her now-sopping sleeve. Of course, this did absolutely nothing.
"Trumpkin said that there's a River God in the river that's angry because the Telmarines built a bridge here," she replied.
"A River God?" Ron asked disbelievingly.
"That's what she said, Weasley," Malfoy sneered.
"But how do we get across?" Hermione asked Trumpkin, who was in deep thought.
"I don't think there's anything for it," Trumpkin began slowly, "but to cross the bridge."
"What?" Ron shouted. "You expect us to climb across that?" He waved his arms frantically at the trembling, creaking bridge. "You've got to be bloody kidding me!"
"There isn't a way to…I dunno, speak to this River God?" Harry asked over Ron's screams of 'We're gonna die! We're gonna die!' "Maybe we can get him to calm down, or something."
"It's a good idea in theory, lad," Trumpkin allowed. "But we can't talk to River Gods."
"What? You mean, there's a social hierarchy or something? He's at the top, and we're at the bottom, so we can't-"
"No," Trumpkin said shortly. "We literally can't talk to the River God. He doesn't understand English, only his daughters, the Naiads can. And they flee when he's in this kind of mood, so it seems we'll have to, as I said previously, cross."
Harry was giving Hermione a look that clearly said 'I think now counts as an emergency!' in reference to her rule stating that they weren't to use difficult magic unless the situation called for it. Hermione was unwilling to give up their cover so easily, though, and besides that, she didn't know any spells to placate an angry god. So she shrugged helplessly.
"Trumpkin knows this better than we do," she said, biting her lip. "We should listen to him."
"I agree," Malfoy said, and like the other times before when their lives had been in mortal peril, his face was now solemn, no trace of the spoiled brat or arrogant man present. "Trumpkin said earlier that this is the quickest way to Aslan's How, and we need to get there as soon as possible." The implied 'So we can't get the hell out of here' was not said. "If you want, I'll go first. Then if I die, you won't beat yourselves up too much about it." It was an off-colour joke, and although Hermione's first instinct was to tell him that that wasn't true, she realised that it probably was. Malfoy wasn't the easiest person to spend time with, and he knew it, too. However, the fact that he even offered to go first was a sign that he did in fact care if they made it. It would have been much more Slytherin, and much more natural for him, if he had pushed Harry to the front of the queue.
They watched in trepidation as Malfoy walked closer and closer to the bridge. His hand was gripping something tightly in his pocket, and Hermione knew that if the situation did not go as Malfoy was obviously planning it would, that he would not hesitate in breaking her 'no magic' rule. She found that she was actually hoping he would make it across safely, if only so that she wouldn't end up with a guilty conscience.
"I might not like the lad," Trumpkin muttered, and because of the sound surrounding them, Hermione almost couldn't hear him, "but he's a brave one."
Normally, Hermione would've snorted in laughter, but she agreed.
Malfoy's first step onto the bridge went badly. As soon as his foot touched the wood and metal making the bridge, it gave a violent lurch, as if the River God was trying to push it out of the river. It probably was trying to do just that. Malfoy lost his balance, and if he hadn't grabbed onto a wooden beam at the last second, he would've gotten lost in the raging water.
"Be careful, Malfoy!" Hermione shouted.
"I didn't know you cared, Granger!" Malfoy shouted back, and it would've sounded civil – even playful - if it wasn't ruined by his scream as the bridge gave another heave. "HOLY MOTHER OF MERLIN AND HIS BAGGY SOILED PANTS!"
There was a sudden calm at the end of his scream, and Malfoy regained his balance. He looked around in wonder and shock, before Trumpkin's shouting roused him. "What are you doing, boy? Run while you still can!"
Malfoy jerked and gave them a terrified look before sprinting across the bridge. He was almost at the end when the bridge began tossing itself again. He flew through the air, and Hermione screamed as he hit one of the metal rails hard. She began running.
"Hermione, what the hell are you doing?" Ron yelled.
"I'm going to see if he's okay!" she replied frantically. She hoped Malfoy wasn't dead. If he was, she'd never forgive herself. She was a Gryffindor – she should have gone first.
"Hermione, don't be stupid!"
"Lass, that might not be the best idea-"
She ignored them and ran onto the moving bridge. It threw her to the side, and she groaned when she hit the metal railing as Malfoy had. Unlike him, however, she got back up again and ran. She was being tossed side to side like a rag doll, but when she fell or was thrown against metal, she just kept going. She reached Malfoy in three minutes, and despite the rocking of the bridge, she knelt beside him. She saw his head was bleeding, and that he was unconscious. Discretely taking out her wand, she tapped him on the head and shouted with desperation, "Rennervate!"
Malfoy woke up as if a bucket of ice water had been splashed on his face. As it so happened, he promptly got splashed with river water. "UGH! What happened, Granger?"
"We have to get moving!" Hermione screamed. "Get up, get up, get up!" She grabbed Malfoy's forearm and pulled.
Malfoy lifted himself up, and seeming to remember exactly what he had been doing before he was knocked blissfully unconscious, he grabbed her arm and began running again. She matched his strides, desperately wanting to get off this bridge now. There was only five metres left, they could make it-
They fell to the river bank on the other side, gasping and heaving, coughing up water.
"You -" Malfoy panted. "You – you – cough - you helped me! Cough – why'd you – cough, cough – do that?"
"Don't be - cough, cough – silly!" Hermione replied weakly, mimicking his sentence before. "You – cough – risked your – cough - life for us, I couldn't – cough, cough – let you – cough – die!"
They lay there, pathetically hacking the water that had entered their lungs out, when Hermione heard screaming. She remembered belatedly that Harry, Ron and Trumpkin had still been on the other river bank when she had gone on her decidedly stupid attempt to save Malfoy's life, and she turned quickly. The action made her dizzy, but as she put her hand to her temple, she watched in horror as Ron hung off of the side of the bridge, shrieking his head off.
"I KNEW I WAS GONNA DIE!" he screamed. "MUM AND DAD, I LOVE YOU! BILL AND CHARLIE, YOU WERE COOL! FRED AND GEORGE, I HATE YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER DONE TO ME, BUT YOU WERE THE GREATEST PRANKSTERS I'VE EVER SEEN, AND I MET SIRIUS! GINNY, LOOK AFTER PIG FOR ME! PERCY, I HATE YOUR DAMN GUTS!" He was screaming in delusion as Harry tried in vain to pull him over the metal railing. Even with the muscular Dwarf helping, it seemed to be taking considerable effort. Hermione made a start towards Ron, but Malfoy suddenly pulled her arms back.
"Let me go, Malfoy!" Hermione growled. "Ron's going to die!"
"Stay, Granger," Malfoy ordered. "You can't go back there! You just got off, and if you put yourself on that damned bridge, you're gonna get yourself killed as well! What help would you be to anyone?"
"Dammit, Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked. "Don't tell me what to do! YOU JUST WANT RON TO DIE!"
"Surprisingly, I don't," Malfoy said in such an offhand manner that Hermione was stunned into silence. "We need him to help us all get home, as much as I loathe saying it." At the look on her face, he wagged his finger. "Now don't go thinking I like the Weasel, but-" Without further ado, he whipped his wand out, and pointing it at Ron, he muttered 'Wingardium Leviosa' and gave it a sharp flick. Ron, Harry and Trumpkin all fell back onto the bridge. There was a period of calmness, and the three looked stunned. Much like Trumpkin had to him, Malfoy screamed, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING? MOVE YOUR DAMN ARSES! NOW!"
The three began running again, and by the time the bridge began moving once more, they had collapsed onto the river bank. They all exchanged looks, before Ron promptly fainted.
|| Break ||
"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin," Ron muttered over and over again, in a somewhat catatonic state. He was staring into the crackling embers of the fire Trumpkin had started, and seemed to be in shock over the whole ordeal. "I was gonna die, I was gonna die, I was gonna die."
Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms closer around herself. It was about an hour since the bridge incident, and water droplets still clung to Hermione's eyelashes. She had already finished weeping at Ron's close encounter with death, and was now watching as her friend went mental. Harry was on his back, staring at the trees above them, Trumpkin was off looking for food and Malfoy was sitting a little away from them, still trying to recover. "But you didn't, Ronald. That's the most important thing."
"Why didn't he?" Harry asked. He seemed to have recovered quickly, and it was no wonder; he had had too many close brushes with death to have something like that affect him too much. "I mean, I'm glad that Ron's great, but I thought he was a goner for sure." Ron gave a pitiful groan. "Trumpkin and I were barely holding onto him."
Hermione tried to meet Malfoy's eyes, but he would not look at them. Licking her lips nervously, she said, "Malfoy saved him."
"MALFOY WHAT?" Ron shouted, and it seemed he had come out of his stupor. "You're joking, Hermione."
"I'm not," Hermione replied curtly. "He used Wingardium Leviosa to put you back on the bridge. You owe him a Life Debt."
"This is even worse than dying," Ron said pathetically.
"Really, Weasley, a simple thank you would have sufficed," Malfoy said sharply. For once, Hermione was on his side, and apparently, so too was Harry.
"I know you almost died, mate," Harry said sympathetically, "but you should really thank Malfoy. If it wasn't for him, you'd be up there with Sirius."
Ron looked around at them, face going red. However, at their expectant looks, he mumbled, "Mmswymfoythns."
"What did you just say?" Malfoy asked with a sneer. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
"I said I'm sorry!" Ron burst out angrily. "Thanks!"
"For what?"
"For saving my life!"
"That's better." Malfoy looked satisfied. "It'd be even better if you did it on your knees." He smirked and pointed to the ground.
Hermione was glad that Malfoy had saved Ron, but he was being a git about it now. As usual. "Really, Malfoy, I didn't know you swung the other way," Hermione retorted. He looked confused for a moment, before he realised what he had said. He paled, and promptly began retching on the ground. All the water that hadn't left him already was now in a puddle at his feet. Ron, too, looked a little ill.
"Hermione," he said, "don't joke about things like that!"
"Sorry," Hermione replied, not that sorry at all. "Oh, there you are, Trumpkin!"
"I couldn't find any animals," Trumpkin said, entering the clearing. "We'll have to make do with these instead." He dumped the contents of his hands onto the ground, a bit away from the fire, and they saw it was a substantial amount of berries, nuts and roots. Hermione sighed; she had been hoping for some meat, as she was starving.
As they ate the food Trumpkin had salvaged, Hermione looked at Trumpkin questioningly. "Will we be walking anymore today?" Hermione asked the Dwarf. "It's still light; I'm sure we could get in another hour or two of hiking."
"I don't think that'd be the best idea, lass," the Dwarf replied. "You all look ready to drop at my feet, and that bridge was right troublesome and tiring. I imagine you'd all want to have a good long sleep about now. The King can wait another day, I hope." At his words, Ron and Malfoy cheered, but Hermione looked disappointed. She had been looking forward to finally meeting this Caspian – and much more importantly, his library. She sighed and nodded, though, acknowledging that she was indeed drained.
"Okay," she replied. "You won't mind if I drop off now, then?" Trumpkin responded in the negative, and with a breath of relief, Hermione lay down, closed her eyes and promptly lost consciousness.
|| Break ||
"So this is Aslan's How," Hermione breathed. She had seen her fair share of magical places, but the gigantic mound of dirt in front of her was very near the top. It legitimately reeked of magic – albeit a different type to the magic she was used to, but magic nonetheless. She could feel herself and her magic being energised as she got closer and closer to it. No wonder people revered this place.
"This is the place," Trumpkin confirmed. "Right magical, isn't it?"
"It's beautiful," Hermione said genuinely. She could easily imagine this place being a church or a temple, if they were in the Muggle world.
"You could use some decorating help, though," Malfoy muttered. "It's a pile of dirt." He kicked at the ground, seemingly to prove his point.
"So," Harry said, breathing in deeply, "anything we should know about before we meet this Caspian bloke?"
"Show him respect," Trumpkin said after a pause. "Especially you, Draco. If you don't, you might find your head plastered to a wall."
"That's pleasant," Ron remarked.
"The Old Narnians are very defensive about the King," Trumpkin shrugged. "Also…you may not be what he was expecting, so be prepared."
"What was he expecting?" Hermione asked.
"The Kings and Queens of Old."
"Weren't they here a thousand years ago, though?" Ron snorted. "By now, they'd be festering in their graves. Or maybe they'd be dust."
Trumpkin looked offended. "That's no way to speak about our Royals," he growled. "They might not be here anymore, but they helped release us from a very dark time in Narnia's history."
"Are you saying we'll become Royals if we save you?" Ron said excitedly, completely missing the Dwarf's point. Because of this, Trumpkin ignored him.
"Alright, wait here," Trumpkin said. "I'm going to warn them that you're coming." He made his way to the entrance of the mound, and made a loud hooting noise. Judging by the echoing that occurred, they figured there was a tunnel that went into the mound.
Almost immediately, there were shouts and footsteps. A few seconds passed by, and then one of the strangest bunches Hermione had ever seen emerged. There was a tall, handsome man with his hand on his sword, dressed in armour, a large badger, a centaur, a Dwarf that looked similar to Trumpkin but with black hair and then a man that was taller than the Dwarf but not by much. They gave whoops of delight at seeing Trumpkin.
"Trumpkin, my loyal advisor!" the tall man shouted delightedly. "You are back! I had heard tales that you were captured and was worried you would not return, but here you are! Did you find them? Oh, how wonderful it is that you're here!"
Hermione gaped at him. He was smiling broadly, and although she wasn't normally one to gawk, he was very, very good-looking. Harry cleared his throat.
"King Caspian the Tenth?" he called out. Immediately, all heads turned to him, and he went slightly red.
"That is I," the handsome man said, frowning slightly. "Trumpkin, are these people the…help?" Trumpkin nodded gravely, and the frown left. "This is wonderful! Welcome to Narnia, welcome! I take it by your strange garments that you do not come from Narnia?" They would have been offended if he wasn't smiling.
"Obviously," Malfoy sneered, causing Caspian's smile to falter slightly.
"Don't mind him," Hermione said, glaring at the blonde. He shrugged. "It's great to finally meet you. My name is Hermione Granger." She offered him her hand, and to her utter surprise, he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Ron made a choked noise.
"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Granger," Caspian said, offering her a bright smile. He turned to Harry, Ron and Malfoy, and began enthusiastically shaking their hands. "I'm so glad you all came! Might I enquire as to your names?"
"Uh…Harry Potter."
"Ron Weasley." Ron sounded slightly menacing.
"Draco Malfoy."
"As you know, I am King Caspian the Tenth," Caspian said. "And these are my trusted advisors, Glenstorm, Trufflehunter, Nikabrik and Doctor Cornelius. You have already met Trumpkin." He looked serious. "I have no wish to disillusion you. You are here because I blew a special Horn, Queen Susan's Horn. I trust Trumpkin has already explained my situation?" They nodded. "Well then you will know that I am in desperate need of any help you can give me. Are there any…talents of some sort that you have that may prove useful in our battle?"
Hermione exchanged looks with the other three. "Um…"
"They use magic," Trumpkin told the king loudly. What commotion occurred because of that simple sentence was not expected. Caspian went stock still, Nikabrik looked delighted, Glenstorm the centaur began murmuring something indecipherable and Trufflehunter began shouting in fear. Doctor Cornelius was watching them carefully. "Oh, stop it, you lot! Do you think I would've brought them here if they were like the White Witch? Galloping gargoyles!"
Caspian took a few deep breaths before looking around at his companions. "Silence," he ordered, and it was a wonder how he had changed from the overly-happy man to the kingly commander that he was now. He looked at the four wizards and witch earnestly as the others stopped their noise immediately. "If Trumpkin believes they are not a threat, then I believe him." Trumpkin puffed his chest at the enormous show of trust he was being given by the king. "Is it possible you could perhaps give us a demonstration of your magic?"
"Well…sure," Hermione said, a little lamely. She took out her wand, and saw them shrink back slightly at the sight of it. Feeling a little nervous, she exhaled noisily and then conjured up a small ball of fire that floated in the air. The Narnians all gasped, and Caspian looked at the fire in awe.
"From thin air," he breathed.
"We have to warn you," Ron said quickly, "we can't do much. We only started learning magic this year, and if we do magic more than once a day, we get extremely exhausted."
"Well what use is that?" Nikabrik grumbled. "Pathetic!"
"Hey!" Ron replied angrily. "At least I can do something useful! How would you like it if you were stuck in some dark forest and there was no dry wood anywhere! You'd freeze to death!"
"I'm sure they can do many things," Caspian said, albeit a little hesitantly. "Perhaps you could conjure up a sword?"
The four exchanged looks. "Sorry," Harry said apologetically.
"Create a blizzard?"
"No…"
"Strike someone dead with a word?"
Harry flinched. "Not possible."
"I see." Caspian looked thoughtful, but his eyes were turning calculating as he continued to gaze at the four. Hermione burned red under his, as well as the others', intense gazes. Malfoy was gazing back just as intently, but he looked extremely concentrated on something. Minutes passed with them just staring at each other, when a voice sounded in Hermione's head. She gasped out loud, and they glanced at her. She paid them no attention, however, wondering how exactly Malfoy had managed to project his voice into her mind.
'He's doubting us…'
What? Malfoy, how the hell are you in my head?
'Like you don't know. Let me give you a clue, it starts with L and ends with "egilimency".'
YOU'RE USING LEGILIMENCY ON ME?
'Oh, bloody hell. That's going to give me a headache for days. Who knew you could be so loud even in your head?'
WHY ARE YOU HERE, MALFOY?
Hermione tried her hardest to throw the foreign presence out of her mind, but it was too strong.
GET OUT!
'I'm not reading your thoughts, Granger.' Malfoy tried to sound soothing. 'Well, not your deep thoughts. Only the surface thoughts, the ones concentrated on this conversation. Anyway, I thought you'd like to know what Caspian's thinking. Seeing as you're the most logical one in the group, I thought you'd be the one to tell.'
Hermione forced herself to calm down. What's he thinking?
'He's thinking that he wants to know if we can fight. He's thinking we're completely useless at the moment.' Malfoy sound gleeful. 'If only he knew. He's thinking that maybe he can teach us to fight. Apparently, the Royal Children were useless when they first came, but they managed to get better. He's wondering why the hell we were the ones that got called, but won't waste an opportunity to have more soldiers.' With that, he painfully wrenched himself out of her mind – she was quite sure it was deliberate – and raised an eyebrow at her. She groaned and touched a hand to her temple.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ron asked worriedly.
"Oh, I'm fine, Ron," Hermione muttered. "Just a headache. A ferret's annoying me." She glared at Malfoy, and Ron looked confused.
"Okay…"
As predicted, Caspian finally spoke up. "Well, do you know how to fight?" The four shook their heads, and everyone in the vicinity groaned.
"Wonderful, just wonderful…" Trufflehunter muttered.
"Good job, Trumpkin, really," Nikabrik said, not bothering to lower his voice. "We're so proud."
Caspian disregarded them. "I'm sure we could teach you. Would you like to learn?"
"That would be wonderful," Hermione instantly said. Caspian nodded, and signalling that the meeting was over, he turned and began walking back towards Aslan's How, looking deep in thought.
"Why'd you say that?" Ron whined. "I'm so damned tired. Why would we want to learn how to fight?"
"Don't be stupid, Ronald," Hermione hissed lowly. "It could be useful for…when we get back. And plus, they might've kicked us out or something if we had refused."
"I don't think so, Hermione," Harry argued. "I'm sure they still think we can help in some way; Trumpkin said before that the Horn doesn't just summon anybody."
"True," Hermione said. "Let's follow them; it's getting cold." She made all of two steps towards the mound of dirt before she spun on her heel, suddenly look angry. "Merlin, I forgot! MALFOY HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?"
"Do what?" Harry and Ron asked, looking puzzled.
"He forced himself into my head!" Hermione growled. "He used Legilimency!"
"Woah, hold up there, Granger," Malfoy defended himself, holding his hands up in surrender. "I just wanted to tell you what Caspian was thinking-"
"And you couldn't have just asked me?"
"Well, that would've made it too obvious, wouldn't it?" Malfoy sneered. "I thought you were smart."
Hermione spluttered. "I- I- But that doesn't give you the right to just barge in uninvited! For all you know, I could've-"
She was interrupted mid-rant when, out of nowhere, a high, loud squeaking invaded her ears. "King Caspian! King Caspian, sir!"
The retreating group that consisted of the King and his advisors spun around with alarming speed at the voice, and Hermione and her friends followed suit. Running up to them was a large squirrel, eyes large and face looking eager. The expression was actually quite comical.
"I found them!" the squirrel exclaimed. "I found them! They're here!"
"Welcome, Pattertwig! We were just heading in…who's here?" Caspian called out.
Pattertwig looked ready to have a fit of ecstasy, so big was his excitement. "Sire, I've found them! The Royal Children!"
And out from the forest behind them all stepped four figures.
|| Author's Note ||
Here it is, the long awaited update! :) This was a hard chapter to get out, mainly because I haven't had much time to write and I'm going through a small emotional time right now. I was going to break it up when Hermione fell asleep, but decided I'd like to get Caspian's meeting with them in here, so here it is. I hope you enjoyed it! Especially the cruel little cliffhanger I left you with… ;)
I've almost finished the outline for this story, and I can say that everything will pick up in the next chapter – including the much awaited meetings with the Royals. All up, I'm estimating it'll be around 30 chapters. That's my aim, but it may be a bit shorter or longer.
On a completely different note, I found out that William Moseley and Anna Popplewell, who play Peter and Susan in the movies respectively, auditioned for the parts of Ron and Hermione in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. I couldn't even begin to describe the feelings that incited in my fangirling heart.
As always, please read and review! Your comments really do make my day, and any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome. If you could also tag any grammatical or spelling errors you find to the end of your review or in a private message, I'd be grateful. Thank you!
Love,
Coretta