MISC

HEIR UNAPPARENT: CHAPTER 7 - THE MEDIATOR

Hagrid was busy feeding the hoofed animals when Ron, Hermione and Harry came through the gate to visit. "Hallo there! Come te help me with the critters, then? Whoa, Ron - be sure te shut that gate b'hind ya, there's a good lad!"

Harry and Hermione forgot all about Malfoy and other woes as their huge friend showed them the newest additions to his flock. After they fed the baldium and the bayard fresh red apples, Hagrid set about feeding the hippogriffs, "Yer a bit young yet te deal with 'em. Why don't ya give the grants these oats?"

They took the sacks of oats from him and distributed handfuls to the diminutive grants, which gathered round them like baby goats. One in particular took a liking to Hermione and kept nosing the pockets of her robe in the hopes of finding sugar lumps or other such delicacies. She scolded Ron when he tried to give it a handful of Bertie Bott's every flavor beans.

"Oooh, Hagrid, what are those?" asked Hermione, pointing to a pair of stately creatures the size of small bulls, on whose heads sprouted a pair of spiraling golden horns. "They look almost like unicorns!" The beasts tossed their proud heads and their horns swiveled about.

"Them's yales, Hermione. Just got here from India. Remus sent 'em! They guard temples an' such from intruders. Here, try 'em on these!" From his copious pockets, Hagrid produced a pair of deep golden apples.

Hermione proffered each yale an apple, which they snuffed before taking the fruit delicately from her hand. They allowed her to stroke their fluffy white fur, which was dappled with creamy yellow spots. "Ooh, they purr just like kittens!" she exclaimed, burying her face with delight in their soft coats.

"I can purr, too, if you'd like…" hinted Ron, envying the attention she was giving to the docile yales. The yale nearest him responded by giving him a hearty, slurping kiss across his face.

Harry chortled with mirth. "Can you do that, too, Ron?"

Ron glared at him, wiping his soggy face on the sleeve of his robe. "Yeah, but only in the right company…" he said, looking hopefully at Hermione.

But her thoughts were elsewhere as she ran to the fence. "Hagrid! How lovely! What are these?"

Hagrid grinned, obviously pleased with his menagerie's success. "These here are snawfus, fresh from America! See? They have flowers twinin' 'bout their antlers - best roses you'll ever sniff! Give 'em some o' these oats, Hermione."

She did so. Her grin was as wide as Hagrid's as they nibbled the grains in her outstretched palm, showering petals onto her upturned face.

They moved to another "zoo building," which was actually Hagrid's garden shed transformed to fit the current need. He showed them an open crate, which held several large, leafy green plants. On closer inspection, they saw fat green pods that were beginning to open, revealing the fluffy heads of tiny sheep. "These are barometz, or vegetable lambs" he grinned. "Gotta get 'em te Madam Sprout. Olympe just sent 'em!"

"Who?" asked Ron, gently prodding one of the little pods and hearing a tiny "baaa" emerge from within.

"You remember, Madame Maxime?" Hagrid smiled fondly for a moment and Harry was astounded at how love completely transformed his face into something almost cherubic. He wondered if they had made the trip to the Mountain Giants that Dumbledore had suggested. "Yep. They grow round the Loire Valley, not far from Beauxbaton. Softest wool you'll ever cuddle. See? She made me this muffler, she did, from their fleece!" He displayed his new scarf with the pride of a schoolboy in his Sunday best. It was, indeed, the finest, softest wool they'd ever seen. "It'll do me good when the weather starts turnin'. Should have the rest o' the critters in by then. I'll have the new barn set up te house the hoofers fer the winter." He patted a few of the visible lambs. "Thought Neville'd take care o' these… 'e's good with plants, eh?"

Turning, he smiled down at Hermione and gave her a wink. "Lissen, you wan' te get a 'leg up' on the others? Grab a copy of Historia Animalium from Madam Pince in the library, and don' ferget The Historie of Foure-Footed Beastes - got fifteen pages on dragons alone!" He sighed, wishing he had fifteen dragons, all his own. "Most o' these beasties are in there. Bin readin' 'em myself, te figger out what they eat an' such."

Hermione duly noted this; the boys figured she'd fill them in, so they started to play with a pen full of nifflers while she chatted with Hagrid about species origins and natural habitats.

"But where on earth did you find all these marvelous creatures, Hagrid?" exclaimed Hermione as she wandered about the shed, peeking in at various critters who peeked back at her with equal interest.

"Well, some I brought back when Olympe an' me were travellin'. Then there's some Charlie was able te get fer me, an' Bill has been great about keepin' an eye peeled fer anythin' 'e comes across. Quite the traveler, that one is!"

Ron started at the names of his brothers. "Charlie and Bill? My Charlie and Bill?"

Hagrid beamed. "Yep. Always liked 'em when they were students an' I like 'em even better now! Got their heads on straight an' their hearts in the right place, I always said…" he paused, putting his huge hand to his mouth. "Whoops! That reminds me - I promised ter Bill I'd get this te you, right away, Hermione!"

Hermione's eyes flew wide with surprise. "Something for me?"

Ron's narrowed with suspicion. "From Bill?"

Hagrid disappeared into one of the stalls and returned carrying something soft, reddish-purple and feathery.

"Ooooh, it's darling!" Hermione cooed, taking the soft ball of fluff lovingly to her breast.

Hagrid grinned. "'e said it reminded 'im o' you so much, 'e just had te send it back ter ye. Sorry it's taken me a bit te remember. So many things goin' on, these days…" He shuffled around in his pockets. "'ere, 'e sent this note, te go with it…"

Hermione eagerly opened the scrap of parchment, which was crumpled and worse for the wear of being in Hagrid's pocket for some time. She read the note aloud, which said:

Dear H - found this little guy on the banks of the Nile. He's a purple egret. Did you know that 'Hermione' means 'eloquence'? It's the feminine form of Hermes, the winged messenger of the Gods. He was mediator between the Gods and Man, and was the God of divine inspiration, cleverness and imagination. Can't think of a better name for your pet, my angel of inspiration… Use Hermes here to send me messages! He'll know where to find me… With love, B.

Hermione looked up from her note to her new pet. "Hermes! How delightful!" The bird clucked softly and nuzzled her cheek. "What a thoughtful gift! You guys both have owls to send your messages… Now I have little Hermes!" Her face was flushed with pleasure, her eyes shining.

Ron's eyes were shining too, with outrage. "Yeah, that's just great…" he said tightly.

Hermione was too enchanted with Hermes to notice that Ron had started to kick bales of hay with vigor. Harry did, though, and grabbed Ron by the arm. "Well, thanks for showing us around, Hagrid! We'd better get back so we don't miss supper!"

Hagrid began to feed the indoor animals. "A'right then, see ye tomorrow in class. Hermione, be sure te get some fresh fish from the house-elves fer yer egret there, an' keep 'im warm 'til 'e gits a bit bigger. Too small fer the owlery yet!"

The threesome made their way up to the castle, Hermione's attention devoted entirely to Hermes. Ron had to take her by the elbow several times to keep her from stumbling. "What a great brother you have, Ron! I don't know how to thank him!"

"I have a few ideas…" muttered Ron. Harry, determined to keep his friend from making a jealous ass of himself, elbowed Ron hard in the ribs. Ron turned to him, scowling, and Harry shook his head vehemently. Hermione did not notice any of this, as Hermes had begun to chirp and nuzzle her cheek again. Ron continued to scowl all the way back to the castle.

They climbed through the portal to the Griffindor common room, after the fat lady had crooned over Hermione's adorable baby bird. Ron kept scowling after Hermione as she climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory, billing and cooing over Hermes as she went. He turned The Scowl on Harry. "I thought you said Bill was only flirting with her to egg me on!"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I did say that! I mean, he was… is… I don't know!"

Ron grabbed a quill and parchment from Neville, who was looking from one to the other in confusion. "What's going on?" he inquired as Ron started to scribble furiously.

"My brother is a stupid git, that's what!" he snarled, finishing his letter with an angry flourish and brandishing the quill at his befuddled friends. "'angel of inspiration', 'with love, B.' - that rat!! I'm sending Pig to him right NOW. Tell him to lay off my girlfriend!" He stomped out, making for the owlery with the attitude of a general marching into battle.

Neville and Harry exchanged shrugs. "Love…" sighed Harry.

Neville nodded. "Yup. Complicated thing, that."

Harry sat down on the couch with him. "So, how's it going so far?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't think she really knows I'm alive, other than as a friend."

Harry started. He was just making small talk, not asking for a confession. But, now that Neville had started it… "Who, Neville?"

Neville's plump cheeks turned pink. "Ginny. I thought you knew."

Harry was surprised. Pleasantly surprised. "That's great, Neville! You two are perfect!"

Neville looked at him, shyly askance. "It is? We are? You really think so?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "You bet! She's one of the sweetest girls here! And pretty, too!"

Neville looked pleased. "She sure is!" They were silent for a moment, then Neville asked Harry. "What about you? Anyone taken your fancy?"

Harry had not intended to share, but since Neville had come clean, it was only fair. "Yeah, 'fraid so. I've got it bad, for Cho. Cho Chang."

Neville lifted his eyebrows. "The Ravenclaw seeker? The cute one? That's great, Harry!"

Sinking deeper into the couch, Harry sighed. "You think? I'm not so sure. I mean, how could I ever get her to think about me, after… after…" He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Neville could, however, and did. "You mean, after Cedric?"

Harry nodded, feeling his throat constrict, as it always did, when Cedric was mentioned.

Neville put a gentle hand on his arm. "You gotta know that wasn't your fault, Harry."

Harry hung his head. That was what everybody said, but he never believed them. He shook his head. "I don't know, Neville…"

Neville shifted on the couch so that he was facing his friend squarely. "Harry, do you believe in… in God?"

Harry looked up, surprised by the tack their conversation had taken. "You mean… The God?"

Neville nodded and Harry realized he had never seen him look more serious. "Yes. The God. Do you?"

Harry thought for a moment. When he was growing up, the Dursleys had trundled him off to Sunday services for a short time, until they roundly decided they preferred he spend the day with Mrs. Figg. He had found them incredibly boring anyway, but some of the music had been nice and the feeling of peace he sometimes derived was… well, pleasant. He looked up into Neville's intense eyes. "Gosh, Neville, I don't really know…"

Neville nodded. "I understand. It's a pretty big concept. But listen, Harry. I've thought a lot about it, I've had to. And I think there is a God. One who really cares about us, who makes things work out somehow. I've heard it called fate, or destiny. But I think in the end it's God."

Harry listened closely, although he began to get a bit of a headache.

"What I'm saying," Neville continued with some urgency. "is that Cedric had a destiny, Harry. Don't you see? Just like you do, and I do, and Dumbledore does. Even Voldemort has one! Cedric fulfilled his and we've got to meet ours, Harry, and do the best we can. Do you see?"

Harry did see, but wasn't sure what to make of it. "I don't know, Neville. It all seems… so remote, you know?"

Neville understood. "It does, until it's on your front porch, Harry. Think about it. But, in the meantime, please don't feel responsible for Cedric Diggory. Okay?"

Harry smiled at Neville. He was full of surprises this year. "Okay, Neville. But that still doesn't mean that my love life is looking up…"

Neville brightened. "Are you kidding? Sure it is! Cho Chang left a note for you, there - on the table!"

"What?!" Harry was up and over to the table in a nanosecond. Opening it, he read, "Harry - Desperately in need of practice, what with this tournament and all. Could you meet me tonight, at the Quidditch field? After supper, say, about 7? Thanks, Cho."

Harry actually made a little leap into the air - Cho, meeting him, for Quidditch! His stomach stayed midair while his feet returned to the ground. He turned gleefully to Neville. "You knew this was here all the time! Why didn't you tell me?"

Neville smiled mildly and returned to his herbology homework. "I thought God was a little more important, Harry."

Harry ran over and gave Neville a quick bear hug around his neck, before sprinting up the stairs to his dormitory. He had to shower, comb his hair, put on clean socks…

Neville shook his head and grinned. "Love…"

Presently, Hermione and Ginny came back into the common room. Hermione was leading Ginny by the hand, talking very fast and with great animation. Neville looked up as they rushed past him and stared at the portal door long after they had climbed through it. She was wearing a blue ribbon to tie back her hair today, he mused; his herbology book lay idle for some time as he thought about red hair under a blue ribbon…

Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny had reached the still-life painting that served as the kitchen entrance. Hermione scratched at a huge green pear in a bowl of fruit. It turned into a large shiny doorknob, which Hermione turned. The door opened on noiseless hinges, admitting them into the enormous, high-ceilinged kitchen. Brass and copper glittered in the bright firelight as the house-elves busied themselves getting the evening meal ready.

Ginny was shaking her head. "I just don't know, Hermione… She may not want to…"

"Nonsense!" said Hermione firmly. "We've got to help her want to, then! She's got to do something with the rest of her life. She can't spend every moment in squalor and butterbeer suds!"

Recognizing Hermione, the house-elves gathered round or greeted her warmly as they bustled to and fro with large tureens of split pea soup or mashed potatoes.

Suddenly, Hermione felt the wind go out of her as a small, outlandishly garbed house-elf ran at her and hugged her tightly. "Friends of Harry Potter! How glad I am to see you, I is!"

"Hello, Dobby!" smiled Hermione as the elf released his grip on her midriff. "This is my friend, Ginny."

Dobby doffed his tea-cozy hat and bowed deeply in respect to Friends of Harry Potter. His eyes twinkled as he regarded Ginny. "Ah, you is a Wheezy, you is!"

Ginny looked at Hermione, uncertain if this was a good thing or not. Hermione laughed and responded for her. "Yup, she is - Ron's sister, in fact."

"Ah! Yes, I can tell by the hair - all Wheezy! But Friends of Harry Potter, what brings you down to the kitchen, before supper?"

Hermione inclined her head at the huge kitchen hearth, where Winky sat in her customary stool. There were no telltale empty bottles surrounding her now, but she was filthy. Her luminous brown eyes were the only features that were distinguishable. From the looks of her, she had been swimming in the ashes.

This, as it turns out, was quite true. She had been in mourning for nearly two months, since learning of her family's tragedy. Barty Crouch was dead, murdered by his own son, who, while not quite dead, was in a worse state, having been kissed by an awful dementor of Azkaban. Winky could not get her simple elfish mind around this horror and had given up all hope and butterbeer with it.

With an empathetic cry, Hermione hurled herself at the little elf's feet and drew her into a sooty embrace. There were tears in Ginny's eyes as well as she took in the horrible state to which Winky had let herself sink. For her part, Winky merely blinked her huge brown eyes. She seemed too numb to take in any kindness. Dobby appeared beside Ginny, shaking his little head sadly. "We has tried, misses, we has, to help poor Winky! But she sits and cries and cries all day… Nights is worse - she don't cry but just stares, into the ashes like that…"

"Oh, Winky!" Hermione held the little elf at arm's length. "You poor dear, it's been just awful, I know it has! But you musn't go on like this!"

Winky stared at her blankly, and made no response.

"Oh, this is too bad!" cried Hermione, picking up the elf in her arms as if she were a helpless baby. Which was not far from the truth. "Dobby! Help me run a tub, there's a dear!"

Dobby and his friends filled a washbasin with soapy water and warmed some tea towels. Hermione and Ginny removed Winky's soiled clothing with some difficulty due to its filthy stiffness; Winky was as passive as a rag doll. Hermione gently bathed the tiny elf, whose only response was to close her huge brown eyes.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered. "What about her clothes? They… they're impossible! They'll never come clean! Even Fred and George were never this bad…"

Hermione looked over her shoulder as she shampooed Winky's matted hair. "Dobby? Can you spare something for her?"

Dobby nodded and returned with a lovely little dress, red cotton trimmed with white and yellow bric-a-brac. Ginny and Hermione both exclaimed with delight. "Why, Dobby, it's lovely! Where did you get it?"

Blushing, Dobby picked at one of the gown's little sleeves. "I… I made it myself, misses… I got tired of making socks - have so many, you see…"

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a knowing glance. "Ah, you made it just for Winky?"

Dobby started to study his little feet with great interest. "Yes, yes I did, just in case… you know…"

Ginny smiled and threw her affectionate arms around the little elf. "Why Dobby, you're the most wonderful house-elf ever!" Dobby blushed bright pink but looked extremely proud. "Don't you worry, Dobby! We'll have Winky back to her self - her real self - in no time, right, Hermione?"

Hermione wasn't sure she agreed with Ginny's assurance but could hardly say less than, "You bet, Dobby! In no time!"

Dobby politely turned his back while Hermione lifted Winky, clean but still limp, from the tub and into the warm towel waiting in Ginny's outstretched arms. As Ginny dried her tiny limbs, Hermione went to work on her hair. Ginny grimaced at the tangles but Hermione was optimistic. "Hey, look at my hair - it's not much better when it's wet!"

At last, Winky was pink and clean and fresh. Hermione took the little gingham dress from Dobby, whose back was still turned, and lifted it over Winky's head. Ginny had to help pull the elf's arms through the sleeves and Hermione fastened up the buttons in back. Taking the blue ribbon from her own hair, Ginny tied back Winky's wispy curls. The improvement was astonishing.

Dobby thought so too as he turned and let out a cry of delight. "Ooooh, Winky - you is beautiful, you is!"

There was a flicker of something in Winky's eyes, but whether it was disbelief or gratitude they couldn't be sure as she had yet to utter a single syllable.

Swiftly, their House-elf friends set a table with tea and cakes. Hermione had to set Winky on her lap while Dobby and Ginny fed her and got her to sip a bit of chamomile tea, which soothed the little elf's frazzled nerves. Before long, she had closed her eyes sleepily and her head nodded on Hermione's gentle breast. Three of the lady House-elves took her from Hermione's lap and got her settled into a clean bed, tucking her in with great care.

With a gratified sigh, Hermione turned to Dobby and Ginny for a council of war. "Okay, Dobby, here's what we're going to do…"

To be continued, of course…