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So far... The reborn Hermione befriended Harry and family (Sirius & Hestia,) but her scheme of recruiting proven experts to root out Ministry corruption fell apart so she must manage the rest of her plans alone. With the Lovegoods, she has gone in search of a Snorkack – but why? Meanwhile, Harry overheard about a death due in his first year at Hogwarts and is worried it might be Hermione. Now read on...
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Chapter 16
The Beast Within
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The Secret of the Crumple-horn
September was almost upon the little expedition before the Snorkacks were finally detected – slightly further down and along the incline than Hermione's nearest X marker on the map. Farrimond's magical senses had made the discovery as he winged into camp with a message from home, and he wasted no time before telling Hermione using the toy picture blocks she always spread out if the owl was trying to communicate. The animal picture could only mean one thing.
"Mr Lovegood! Luna! I think Farrimond has found them!"
Up jumped Xenophilius, anxious to rush off through the woods. "Which way! Which way!"
But before setting out, Luna made a big fuss of Farrimond's cleverness and left the flap of her tepee open so the bird could enjoy the treats and bacon rind she'd spread out in the warm interior. Despite Xeno's impatience, Luna refused to budge until Farrimond was refreshed, rested, and ready to guide them.
Despite their proximity, stealth and caution were critical so it still took a while to approach anywhere near the herd of creatures, and nor could much of the beasts' magic be detected even then. As Hermione had predicted, only faint sounds of foraging revealed the presence of the creatures. Once Xeno knew exactly where they were and managed to creep within a hundred paces or so, then his wand could detect a trace of their outlines. Now he could cast a direct spell to let the humans see through the magical camouflage concealing the beasts.
"By Merlin!"
The faint gasp of delight had escaped Mr Lovegood's lips when he first clapped eyes on the creatures and the excited whispering exchanged between himself and his daughter were mostly incoherent. But Hermione was disappointed to see that the herd was quite small – no more than thirteen or fourteen adults. Still, at least there were also a few wide-eyed youngsters which was encouraging.
Xeno pointed out each detail to Luna and explained his observations and conclusions as they made notes together. The mature Snorkacks had proportionally small eyes and ears but their massive bulk was protected by a shaggy purple coat that hung down almost to the ground like a very hairy giant yak or small mammoth – but with a neck longer than a llama's. The single greyish horns of these common Snorkacks were slightly upturned curves, and most jutted out over two feet in length from their brow. Xeno's own neck seemed to stretch as he craned and twisted to see as much as possible, so absorbed was he.
"Take care not to get too close," cautioned Hermione, keeping well behind the other two.
"Do not concern yourself, young lady, the Snorkack is a gentle herbivore," replied Mr Lovegood, casting a smile back over his shoulder that was meant to reassure her.
Hermione turned away and muttered, "So is a rogue bull elephant or an angry rhino." But now the Lovegoods were so fully distracted from her, Hermione's mind was already moving beyond the herd to where she hoped the real prey might be found.
While Xeno busied himself setting up his special cameras, Luna found a spot beside a sturdy tree where she could begin sketching and making colour notes for her mother. She rolled up her sleeves, sucked thoughtfully on a pencil until her tongue was black, then decided to begin with some of the front end of the slowest Snorkack and draw part of the rear when it caught up a second or two later.
While they were preoccupied, Hermione moved a few steps quietly further back before charming herself invisible and immaterial then sweeping down through the herd unnoticed.
The scrubby, well-trodden turf was what interested her as she scouted beyond the grazing animals. She dare not be gone long else either Luna or her father would eventually notice her absence. If they started shouting they might stampede the herd.
Hermione's attention was everywhere at once, but predominantly on the semi-frozen ground, searching for tracks.
Where are you? Where are you?
There were too many hoofprints obscuring the ones she was looking for, and several minutes passed with increasing anxiety as she moved further down the slope. But the ground here was even more deeply trampled, and she soon found the reason why. A long shallow mud pool – not really a true swamp – carried just enough surface water for the creatures to drink. They must have come this way on their approach, for the ground was churned up hopelessly, obscuring what she sought.
Yet it was the ooze itself which revealed Hermione's quarry. On the far edge of the mire, a flicker of movement caught her eye, no more than a tiny vertical patch of slimy muck inching across the boggy land, but it was enough. Fixing her gaze on the spot, she saw nothing for long minutes – time she could not spare – then, abruptly, a little mud twitched. The motion had been barely an ankle turn and a repositioned hoof, but the fresh filth caught upon it had been visible for a few moments before it was absorbed within the magical concealment.
Suppressing a sigh of relief, Hermione set to work. Stunning spells and the like would have no effect on this beast, she well knew. Drifting silently closer, her soft incantations soon focused on the creature's simple mind and persuaded the animal that it was sleepy. The ritual didn't take long; a depression appearing on the bank of the pool revealed exactly where the Snorkack lay – but this was not one of the common variety.
Hermione had her own spells for seeing through the brute's magical camouflage once she had its precise outline and had moved within a few paces. Once visible, there was no longer any doubt. The crumpled horn gave it away, of course, collapsed, distorted, and withered-looking, yet the bony protrusion was still an impressive three feet in length. The poor beast must have been the original leader of the herd, but the alpha's own might and raw magical authority was also its undoing.
She would need all her own powers now, so was forced to relinquish her invisibility and immateriality. From her pocket she took an empty potions vial, and flipped open its hinged cap. Reaching forward she placed the tip of her wand upon the base of the horn where it adjoined the skull between, but slightly above, the side-slanted eyes, both of which were now closed. She drew breath to cast a spell, then held it back and listened carefully instead to the woods around her – someone or something was watching her from behind. Fear was the tiniest jolt on her heart. Normally she would respond instantly to an enemy but out here? In this wilderness? And with the distraction of the task in hand? She steadied herself...
As she spun around a voice said, "What on the Great Last Flight are you doing, Mistress?"
Hermione Granger did not often swear but her low, muttered oath almost split the tree upon which perched the intruder. "Aculus! Why are you here of all places! I almost fainted with shock!"
"Come to report as usual, of course. You know I can always find you."
"Now is not a good time. I'm in a desperate hurry."
"Oh well then..." The bird fluttered its wings as if preparing to fly away.
"Tell me."
"The Weasley twins have... shall we say, 'progressed'? They are dealing with their younger brother more considerately at any rate. How his disposition might be affected, only time will tell. I've eased off my treatment and wish to reaffirm my request that I now stop harassing them completely. That is my solemn advice."
"Is that it? You've flown all this way to tell me this? Just as I was about to...?" Hermione paused in thought. "You're getting back at me aren't you!"
"Oh, are you doing something important then?" said the raven with his head on one side examining a talon. A soft clucking came from the bird's throat.
Hermione growled. "Watch and you'll find out!"
Turning her back on the distraction, Hermione replaced the tip of her wand on the crumpled horn's root. "Accio hirudo."
The pull on her wand was instantly noticeable and she gripped it more firmly, fighting against the drag which threatened to twist it from her hand.
"Accio hirudo," she repeated, trying to brace her feet in the slippery mud.
Her wand tip was drawn very slowly but irresistibly aside towards the left eye. Hermione grimaced. She'd planned to raise the eyelid first – remembering when she'd done this before in her former life, way in the future. No matter, she told herself, The force of the summoning charm will find a way.
A swelling of the eyelid showed her that progress was being made. The bulge extended itself down until – for a moment it almost seemed to Hermione as if the Snorkack was awakening because its eye opened a tiny crack. Entranced, she watched the long eyelashes flicker up, being pushed by other fine hair-like structures which moved independently, searching by touch for any surface to feather themselves forward.
The body of a slender, thread-like worm emerged with a multitude of squirming filaments sticking straight out on opposite sides, much like a silvery millipede with arms instead of legs. Hermione shuddered as the end of her wand pulled it clear, still twisting and writhing pitifully, yet unable to escape the summoning charm.
Quickly she pushed the creature into the open vial and snapped it shut – adding a locking spell for good measure. Holding it at arms length, she watched the curious leech coil and wriggle to no avail. Luna would probably think it was beautiful but Hermione cast an obscuring spell and the glass became opaque. She knew it would hibernate for another seven years unless she let it see the light again.
After moving a few feet away from the Snorkack, Hermione gently teased the animal half awake with a spell. "Sorry, old girl, but your horn will never recover," she murmured. "Blame the parasite that was leeching on your magic." She shook the tiny bottle to emphasise the real culprit before slipping it into a pocket. A sleepy snort from the Snorkack was all the thanks she got for her trouble. The animal would be dozy for quite a while before it got to its feet again, but at least it would not lose the remains of its magical protection and be easy, slow-moving prey for wolves.
Sadly she restored its camouflage then turned away. Poor thing. The rest of the common pack would never allow a Crumple-horn to rejoin them; the great beast was doomed to forever live alone on the edge of the herd, an outcast from its own kind.
"So it's a magic-leech!" cried Aculus. "Well, keep that deadly maggot well away from me then," said Aculus. "Destroy it before you have an accident and it escapes."
"This one is of no danger to anyone except common Snorkacks," said Hermione. "It lays a few, sexless eggs underground, hibernates in the soil for seven years – living off the magic it has previously gorged on – then emerges to invade another Snorkack if it can. With luck it will lay eggs in the vial before it drifts off into its long sleep."
"But why keep it?"
"Muggles have a scientific discipline called biogenetics which I studied and practised when I lived amongst them. I saved many lives by altering the behaviour of living cells – Mike Worthing was one such."
"And now you plan to kill using the same technique!" screeched the raven. "I knew it! You intend to erase magic from the world completely!"
"Calm yourself, Aculus. If you think so poorly of me then you do not know what I am like at all. Don't you suppose I have agonised over this before I made my decision? The eggs will be modified so the eventual adults will feast only on human magic then die. They do so because whereas a Snorkack has huge reserves of what might be called 'dumb' magic like giants have, useful mostly for heavy shielding and camouflage, wizard magic is much finer and more delicate. Within minutes, the leech will exhaust what is available then start on the magical core. An hour or so later – depending on the person – the magic will never replenish, so the leech dies."
"Too risky! Too dangerous!" The raven hopped side to side on its branch. "How can you be so sure it won't spawn more of its kind and spread around the world!"
"Because I've already done this and comprehend its limits well! Tried, tested, and confirmed. My only concern is with handling the individual worms and that is why I shall be taking great care and might never reveal the secret – that needs more thought."
"But–!"
"Listen, listen to me! These creatures have been around for millions of years. They have never evolved to prey on anything but large, slow, and stupid creatures like Snorkacks. Even if one of my modified worms escaped and by dumb luck found a man unconscious in a field, it would take only his small reservoir of magic then die, straining for more. Even if it could survive – which it can't – it will never leave its host to lay eggs until it has absorbed a huge amount of raw magic – which humans never possess. Witches and wizards have powerful magic of the finest quality, but magicae hirudo needs bulk quantity not quality."
Aculus released a very human sigh. "Occasionally I wonder why I was called to serve you, Mistress. At times you seem both ruthless and reckless."
"I do what I must!" snapped Hermione, biting her lip at the accusation – which she knew was not far from the truth. "Would you rather that dark magic be preserved to torture and kill? To so drain and pervert magical society that we cannot function efficiently? Do not turn your guilty face away from me, raven! You cannot hide from your own recklessness if you take the easy path. I choose to do what is right!"
The raven took flight, and Hermione was left alone in the woods to ponder her actions as she trudged back up the steep hill. But though her chosen route was not without great effort, she well knew that did not guarantee it was the correct one.
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Together
After rejoining the Lovegoods, Hermione felt slightly miffed they hadn't even noticed she'd been gone for well over half an hour, so absorbed were they in observing the other Snorkacks. Yet she was glad of it too for she wouldn't have to explain her absence to a worried Mr Lovegood. She approached them quietly but with enough huffing and puffing that they would hear her and not be startled.
"I'm not sure but I think I may have heard another down there on its own," she breathed. "What if it's a Crumple-horn? Erasmus did say they are usually reclusive and dwell on the outskirts of the main herd of common Snorkacks."
Xeno almost dropped his best camera but for the strap tangled round one elbow. Luna's eyes popped wide as saucers and she said in a loud whisper, "Where was it, Hermione!"
Hermione led them down to the watering hole, keeping that boggy wallow between themselves and the Crumple-horn's position. She whispered, "I'm sure I heard sounds over there on the other side, but I couldn't see anything for a while – then a little bit of mud moved, I'm sure of it!"
Xeno's wand was all a tremble as he cast his revealing charm, and his face lit up with delighted astonishment as the animal appeared. Luna took hold of his hand and they simply looked for a long time. The scene was their Jurassic moment – a long-held dream become reality. The Crumple-horn was majestically hoisting itself back up onto its legs, none the worse for wear. The splendid creature took no notice of the motionless humans on the other side of the mire and turned to browse the nearest foliage, expertly tilting the higher branches with its imposing horn so it could reach the most succulent leaves.
Hermione watched the man and his daughter whispering contentedly together. They seemed in no hurry to begin capturing images. Mr Lovegood slowly lowered himself down to sit upon the nearest angled tree trunk and Luna sat upon his knee, both observing a great natural mystery with wonder spread across their faces. Happy, for once, to be forgotten, Hermione ghosted silently away up the trail to secure her own prize and owl her parents; the child in her was feeling homesick.
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Death in the Family
After two more weeks of study, the expedition members watched sadly as the Snorkacks departed to find new ground to graze. The last they saw of them was the Crumple-horn trailing dejectedly after the main herd. Nevertheless, the safari was judged a great success. Mr Lovegood in particular was extremely elated and could hardly wait to begin composing the headline for the next issue of The Quibbler. Likewise, Luna hoped to include some of her best sketches, and hoped there would be time for her mother to paint a full-colour rendition of the Crumple-horn.
"Wait till the Daily Prophet sees our scoop!" cried Xenophilius. "Crowmore's Column will have to eat its own words! How dare he call me an old goat after this!"
Luna patted his hand. "You're not an old goat, Daddy," she said quite firmly.
Hermione knew it was unlikely the Prophet would ever retract any of their accusations and fabrications but nevertheless, back home in October, curled up in an armchair, she was surprised to find herself reading a grudging acknowledgement halfway down the third page of the newspaper, even if it was pompously diluted:
The bounds of our credibility needed dangerously extending, began the article, after reading that a little-known periodical has (possibly) provided evidence of an unknown magical species. And so it went on in the same tone until delegated to page fifteen so it could be overshadowed by a larger subheading about a mere burglary in Diagon Alley, with the loss of two pairs of secondhand boots and an umbrella. Hermione made a face and turned again to the letter she had received that morning from Mrs Lovegood but had been diverted from by the arrival of the news.
My Dear Miss Hermione,
I cannot stop thanking you enough for all you have done. My Xenophilius walks around much elevated in mood these days thanks to you, and nor is The Quibbler's increased circulation insignificant!
Luna also sends her love and what she calls a footnote below. I trust you know what she means because I gave up years ago!
Hermione laughed aloud at the sweet little sketch of a foot drawn by her friend next to a beating heart, then she continued with the letter:
Now, Xeno and I have agreed that while they are in mourning it would be more considerate to delay the introduction to the Weasleys he promised you. But Luna is bouncing to...
Hermione blinked in disbelief and read the sentence again. Disbelief turned to shock. She had not misread the statement; the Weasleys were...
"What tickled your funny bone then?" said Mrs Granger as she walked in from the kitchen with tea and a plate of hot buttered scones. "Is that Mrs Lovegood's letter you're giggling at?" She placed the tray down on the coffee table then looked up and saw Hermione's anguished expression. "Why, whatever's the matter?"
Hermione shook her head, unable to speak yet. Mrs Granger took the letter from her and quickly scanned down it. "Do you know these people? The Weasleys? I think I've heard you mention them before haven't you?"
Her nine-year-old was staring into space now and slowly nodding. "I was married to their son..."
Mrs Granger's eyes rolled white in shock and her mouth gulped for more air. "Wh–! You were–? Uuhhh...!"
But Hermione continued, "What if... what if it's Ron! ... Or Ginny! Oh, no! ... Or–?"
She shrieked in horror and leapt out of her chair. Tea and scones, mother and letter, all were scattered aside as she dashed for the backdoor.
"HERMIONE!" Mrs Granger ran after her daughter. "Where are you going!"
The young girl had almost reached the great larch and her arms were outstretched up towards its branches. "Aculus! Aculus! Are you there? I'm sorry – I take it all back! Everything! Please speak to me!"
The hum of distant road traffic and the whisper of rustling leaves were the only sounds that framed the silence for several seconds and then...
"So you have learnt remorse for your sins at last, Mistress? Alas, too late. What is done is done. You cannot undo so severe a meddling in the lives of others."
Hermione began sniffling and, leaning against the tree, she sank slowly down to her knees. "Was it... both of them? Fred and George?"
"Of course. I drove them equally right to the end. Young Ronald is finally free of their domination."
With a wail, Hermione turned to her mother who had approached with caution, and clung to her bitterly, sobbing and trembling. Mrs Granger stroked her hair. "Hermione, Hermione..." she crooned softly.
"It's ironic in a way," continued Aculus, "for Ron to be separated from his brothers only a few months after they began treating him more thoughtfully. Still, time passes swiftly and his own time will come soon enough."
"When is the funeral?" Hermione asked tearfully.
Aculus tilted his head and the tiny black eye blinked several times. "The funeral? Why, the funeral was over a week ago – I thought you knew."
"But I only came back from Sweden last week! Oh, what have I done! What have I done!" whimpered Hermione.
"Your mind is confused, Mistress. That event does not affect your purpose in anyway. You succeeded in your aims," said Aculus. "You insisted that I–"
"I know. I know," moaned Hermione.
"Then what's the problem?"
"Oh, how can you be so callous."
"Callous?" The raven hopped down a branch to where he could more clearly see Hermione's expression. "You mean about the burial? I didn't realise you would be so affected. The end was gruesome but–"
"DON'T TELL ME!" Hermione clapped her hands over her ears – then removed them. "No, you'd better tell me. Do not spare me."
"You don't know? I thought you must have read about it in your newspaper. Torn apart by horses. Everyone–"
Mrs Granger's scream was quickly stifled, and she kept her hand tight over her mouth.
Aculus continued, "Everyone pretended it was an accident of course, but..."
"What? How? What do you mean 'by horses'? How?" said Hermione.
"Well that's the question. Mr Prewett knew his horses alright; he wasn't the sort to panic teams of Shires in opposite directions with his arms entwined in the reins."
Hermione rubbed at her eyes. "Mr Prewett?"
"Yes, Mrs Weasley's Uncle Ignatius. His sudden death has deeply upset her."
For a while, Hermione tried to speak but her mouth didn't form the words coherently. "Wh...? Can't...? Is...?" Finally she managed to gasp one syllable, "Twins?"
"What of them?" said Aculus.
"You said Ron was free of them, separated from them..."
"Free of their domination, I said – as you intended. And to be separated after a few months, of course." If a raven could frown in puzzlement then Aculus would be doing so now. "When they go to Hogwarts next year, of course."
"Next year! That's it? Fred and George go to Hogwarts next year! Damn you, Aculus! I double take back everything I ever gave back!" And Hermione stomped off to the house.
Aculus looked at Mrs Granger and stuttered, "What by Flight did I...? did she...? How...? Wh...?"
"I don't know, erm... Aculus, is it?" said Anne, whose face sported a blank stare. I'm talking to a friggin' bird in my garden. "Sorry, I'll uuh... speak to her." And with eyes darting about in fear of nosy neighbours, she swept off to the house too. "I'll get back to you on that," she called over her shoulder as if she chatted with ravens every day of the week.
She found Hermione muttering over her log book in the living room and scrabbling forward through the pages. "I'm sure I made a note!"
"What is it?"
"I must get to Hogwarts before the twins. I didn't realise it was so close."
"But it's not until next... what, September? Almost a year!"
Hermione stopped scuffling frantically in her book. "Of course. That's right. Plenty of time to plan it out. I can go at Christmas – no, in the spring – no, during next year's summer hols! It's that damn bird mixing me up again! I can't think straight!"
"Hermione, it was simply a misunderstanding on your part. You should cool off and then apologise to... the... mmm... little bird in the garden."
She busied herself with normality – picking up scones and cups off the carpet – then went to make a fresh pot of tea. Hermione, meanwhile, had retrieved Mrs Lovegood's letter once more and was looking to see how far she'd read:
...they are in mourning ... it would be more considerate to delay until Christmas the introduction to the Weasleys that he promised you. But Luna is bouncing to play with you again and also to meet your Harry Potter and won't let me rest until I ask you how tall he is. I think she's taken a shine to the boy.
Hermione tried to clear her head. The near-ghostly thoughts of Fred and George were still occupying her attention and it was hard to concentrate on anything else.
I do hope there will be an opportunity; Luna is rather isolated outside Ottery.
There was a pause while Hermione, unable to process what she was reading, simply listened to her mother working in the kitchen. The familiar background sounds relaxed her, slowing her cascading thoughts until she could think more clearly. Mrs Lovegood is hinting for me to invite Luna here. And to meet Harry. Right...
The problem of the trainer wands remained. It was so annoying! Luna had innocently promised to inform her father of any children using illegal wands. Hermione did not want to form a wedge between Mr Lovegood and his daughter but she was also determined to bring Luna into her growing circle of friendship – a group of all the people she knew she could rely on. She'd have to have a word with Harry to keep his wand well hidden and warn him that Luna was quite a fan of his, perhaps even...
Hermione lifted up the letter again.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
Pandora Lovegood
Below the signature was Luna's heart – it was actually pulsing when she examined it more closely! The footprint too, though static, was excellently-drawn and quite fun – for a few moments only. Then Hermione recognised the muddy imprint of the sole pattern. It was her own, one of those where she'd stepped in the ooze beside the Crumple-horn to get the leech.
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—oOo—
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Author's Notes
Now, you've all been reading too fast so you've almost caught me up! At this time, I only have one-and-a-half scenes already drafted for next week's chapter so likely I may have to publish every 10 days or even fortnightly after this. I mean, I know what's going to happen between now and Hogwarts but it all depends on my muse for the actual words. If she pours them out as quickly as she did with Painting the Sky then I'll type them in till my fingers bleed to keep up. I know I can do it because I did with Chary Potter but be prepared anyway – if no chapter next Sunday then it should only be a few days late and so on. Hopefully it won't happen.
The paleontologist's allusion to herbivores being 'safe' always made me smile in Jurassic Park, as if being a herbivore means an animal is 'tame' – what about King Kong, eh? eh? :)
Thanks to everyone for comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging. Let me know of any weaknesses or faults – I'm always trying to improve my writing so feedback is really useful. :)
– Hippothestrowl
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