Chapter Three
Snape and Hagrid
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"Not... now!"
Professor Severus Snape slammed a glass-fronted cabinet door shut, silently fuming. He couldn't be out of aconite now. Much depended on the potion he was brewing, and it would be rendered useless without the main ingredient.
"Where...?" the question slipped through clenched teeth as the potions master checked and double-checked behind countless bottles and jars. Glass struck metal clamorously as his hands revealed his impatience. The other ingredients were only viable for a certain amount of time, and factoring in the time it took to brew... he had fifteen minutes until everything exploded in his face.
He ticked off other possibilities in his head.
Diagon Alley. The shops there would be stocked with everything he'd need, and Knockturn Alley was very close, should he come up empty, but even if he Apparated, that would cost him too much time.
Hogsmeade. It was closest, but neither the joke shop or Honeyduke's carried potion ingredients of a darker nature. There was only one place, really, and the thought gave Snape a shudder of disgust.
"Madam Rosmerta."
She fancied herself handy with the kind of concoctions he himself would never deal with.
"Love potions and spring tonics," he sneered. But perhaps...
With a snap of his fingers the potions master disappeared from his room, reappearing moments later on the front step of the Three Broomsticks.
"Aconite..."
Snape burst through the doors, greasy black hair plastered across his face. The girl reading behind the bar jumped to her feet, sending book and barstool to the floor.
"Where is Madam Rosmerta?" Snape scowled, watching the color drain nicely from her face.
"She's gone to London," the woman said, backing away.
Snape rounded the bar and began rummaging in the cabinets beneath it.
"Diagon Alley?"
"Yes. She ran out of some things and..."
"I don't need to know what's on her shopping list. I need to know where she keeps her aconite powder."
"Aconite?"
Snape turned a blistering look on the girl who, on second glance, was older than he'd first assumed. The freckles across her nose and the wide-eyed stare had thrown him off considerably.
"Who are you?" he muttered, turning back to his search before she had the time to answer.
"Ivy Ollivander," she offered. "I work for Rosie. I mean... Madam Rosmerta. She'll be back in a bit if you'll just..."
"I don't have time to wait. Ten minutes, tops. You say you work here. Why don't you know where things are?"
Ivy only stared at him for a moment, then fled toward the kitchen, calling someone's name.
Meanwhile, Snape resumed his hunt, turning things upside down in his search for aconite powder. Cabinet doors stood ajar, contents tipped over and spilling out. As he rummaged, three ornate pewter and glass flasks fell at his feet. Two rolled under the bar, one rolled in the other direction, its path blocked by a boot as big as a sizable tree trunk.
"What's goin' on here?" a voice boomed from somewhere high above Professor Snape's head. Snape straightened up and peered into the shaggy face of Hagrid. Had he been so intent on his quarry that the big lug had been able to sneak up on him?
"A...con...ite," he repeated to the giant in an ice-cold voice. "And unless you know where Rosmerta keeps hers you will do well to stay out... of... my... way."
"Aconite?" Hagrid repeated, bending over to pick up the metal flask at his feet. "What makes ya think you'll find it here?"
Snape groaned and strode toward the kitchen, black robe swirling in his wake. He didn't get far before he was stopped in his tracks by a poker-wielding house elf.
"You is not welcome in this kitchen," Willa told him. "You is belonging on the other side of the bar." Standing behind the house elf, Ivy brightened noticeably at the sight of a familiar face.
"G'day, Hagrid," she said.
"Ivy," Hagrid nodded. "Can you help the Perfesser here find some aconite powder? Seems to think Rosie might have some lyin' aroun'."
"I don't think he needs any help," she offered lamely. Ivy didn't know aconite from Iocaine, but would rather have died than shown them her ignorance.
Willa was quick to come to her rescue.
"Ivy is not knowin' where Madam Rosie keeps her potions. Ivy is new."
"You're not," came a voice that was muffled due to the fact that the head it spoke from was stuck deep inside a cupboard. Snape jerked his head out and glared at the elf.
Willa floundered, and Ivy alone knew what was at stake. She held her breath, waiting to see if the elf would choose loyalty to her mistress over covering for Ivy.
"There," the house elf muttered finally. A long trembling finger pointed to a small cabinet above the sink.
Snape pulled the doors open, gloating. "Lithofell... toad spleen... aconite. You there, come taste this. Is it aconite? The label's smeared."
Ivy's eyes widened and she shook her head, backing away from Snape until her hands felt the rough wall behind her.
"I'll take care a that, Perfesser," Hagrid cut in, wrapping huge fingers around the bottle. He held it up to the light, pretending to examine its contents, but what he pondered was the fear in Ivy's face.
Snape, noticeably calmer, gave Hagrid a funny look. "I wouldn't ask except it looks a lot like.."
"Parsofell?"
The whole group turned as one at the sound of Rosmerta's voice.
"May I ask what you are doing in my kitchen?" she asked.
Ivy, Willa and the giant spoke the same word at once.
"Aconite."
"You've made my pub a shambles for aconite?" she questioned, turning in a slow circle to survey the destruction.
"He is the one what was makin' the mess," Willa informed, pointing at Snape and still shaking from her ordeal. "Willa is sorry for tellin' Madam Rosie. But Willa was afraid."
Across the room, Snape demanded the bottle from Hagrid's hand. "I am sorry that I cannot stay to finish this little... party," he told them. By now the entrails in his potion were probably infusing with the dragon blood. He had only moments to spare.
"Madam Rosmerta, may I speak with you privately for a moment?"
Rose nodded and accompanied him into the pub's outer room, while Ivy bent to embrace Willa.
"Thank you," she whispered into one over-sized ear, but the house elf was inconsolable.
"Told 'er secrets, Willa did. Willa is no good house elf." The little creature pulled away and disappeared into the root cellar, her tea towel dress flapping madly behind her.
"You a'right there, Ivy?"
She stood and looked up at the giant.
"Yes," she lied quietly. "Thanks for your help."
"Weren't nuthin'. I'm meetin' the man with the hippogriffs this mornin'. Thought I'd see if you ladies had anything lyin' aroun' for breakfast."
"Oh..." Ivy started, still shaken from her run in with the Professor. She'd forgotten all about the breakfast she'd planned on. A ham shoulder sat waiting on the counter, and porridge still bubbled patiently in its pot over the fire.
"Who was that?" Ivy asked, pushing herself into motion. Opening the one cabinet door that had gone untouched in Snape's assault, she took out a huge wooden bowl. Filling it with steaming porridge only took a moment.
"That's Perfesser Snape from up at Hogwarts. Must be gettin' a potion up fer summat."
"He's rude," Ivy stated, placing the bowl on the kitchen table, along with a plate of butter, bowl of sugar and shaker of salt. She pulled Hagrid's over-sized knife and spoon from their drawer, and set them by the food.
"He's a'right. Just a bit..."
"Different?" Ivy finished for him. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to throw a massive slab of ham into a pan on the stove.
Hagrid remained silent for a moment, then gave a funny grunt from deep in his throat. His raised eyebrows told her she'd picked the right word.
"Not bad," he offered, saluting her with a huge spoonful of thick gray porridge. He watched her work, and though she seemed comfortable enough in Rosie's kitchen, something nagged at the back of Hagrid's mind. Something was different, but he couldn't put his finger on what that difference might be.
"Thanks, Hagrid. At least I got that right." Ivy said. Taking his cue, she decided to change the subject. "I've never seen a hippogriff before. Only in pictures. And Muggle pictures at that. They're half bird, half horse, aren't they?"
Hagrid downed another spoonful. "Half griffin, half horse, yeah. Ya oughta come ta the station wi' me, then. Watch 'em come in. They're beau'iful beasts... very awesome to see."
"Oh, I..." Ivy floundered at his invitation, caught off guard, as uncertainty wrestled with desire to glimpse the magical creatures. "I'd like to see them, but..."
"Can I ask you a question?" Hagrid stopped her. He leaned forward, beetle-black eyes shining bright, and looking quite conspiratorial.
Ivy's heart jumped to her throat, positive she'd been found out. His question was obvious and she didn't want to answer, but something in his gaze caused Ivy to nod her head anyway.
"What'er you afraid of?"
"Afraid?" she managed. "What makes you think I'm... afraid?"
"When Snape was here b'fore, ya had a look on yer face. I seen that look. Like a cornered rabbit lookin' up my crossbow." Hagrid's eyes glazed as he imagined hunts gone by. "Yup, seen it many times. Like lookin' into the face of yer doom. It's none a my business, a course. But it's why I offered to taste the powder fer ya."
"I... " Ivy stared at the giant, wanting more than anything to blurt out what she was hiding. His eyes were kind, and she felt as though he might understand. But in the end, habit won out, and she told the first lie that came to her head.
"I'm not familiar with the potion ingredients common around here, that's all. He caught me by surprise, and I didn't want him to know. I mean... I grew up somewhere else and..."
Hagrid held up a hand to stop her.
"Ya don't own me nuthin' more, Ivy. I just wanted to make sure you weren't scared like that 'round me. I can be a bit of a su'prise at first, but I mean no harm."
"No! No," Ivy assured him, thankful he'd bought her half-truth. "I... I was glad you were here. And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you that first night. At the door. It's just that... everything's new here. I've lived around Muggles, most of my life and giants, well..." she gave him as much of a smile as she could muster, stopping the flow of words that rushed from her mouth before she got herself into even more trouble.
"I've read about hippogriffs. Muggles say they got their name from an ancient phrase meaning something is impossible. 'When gryffins mate with horses.' Nowadays we'd say something like, 'When pigs fly."
Hagrid grunted around his spoonful of porridge.
"When pigs fly."
"Yes! I used to teach mythology in college. And I'd really, really like to see them. Think I could get back here in time for lunch?"
"A course!" Hagrid grinned, "Won't take long at all. You can leave a note fer Rosie."
"Ok then," Ivy said, feeling better. Hagrid's enthusiasm for magical beasts was infectious, and Ivy allowed his conversation to warm her like a beam of hope. He took her at face value, glad for someone with whom to share his insight, never realizing that acceptance was what Ivy needed most. The smell of ham filled the kitchen as she watched and listened, happy to have found another friend.
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"Say ya lived with Muggles mosta yer life?" Hagrid asked Ivy as they walked toward the train station. Recent rains had left the cobblestone streets wet and slippery, although the sky had begun to lighten in the promise of afternoon sun.
"How'd that happ'n? If ya don't mind me askin'."
Ivy jumped a puddle in the middle of the street, then looked up at Hagrid.
"My father thought he could protect me from Voldemort that way," she answered simply. A private smile graced her lips as she congratulated herself on the truth of the statement.
So great was Ivy's relief at not having to create another lie that she didn't notice Hagrid wince at the mention of the dark sorcerer's name.
"But Voldemort's gone now, so I think I'll be safe."
Hagrid stopped dead in the middle of the street. Ivy skidded to a halt beside him.
"We don't say that name 'round here, Ivy," he told her. "Ya ain't bin here long enough ta know it, but you'll make more friends if ya quit flashin' it around."
"I..." Ivy bent over a little to catch her breath. "I didn't know." I also didn't know it would be so hard to keep pace with a giant.
" 'S why I'm tellin' ya," he said, resuming his walk. "Droppin' that name is a sure way ta put an end to friendly conversation."
"But what about the Potter boy?" she questioned, thankful to see Hogwarts station just a block away. "They say he killed Volde-- I mean... You-Know-Who."
"You mean Harry?" The giant's scruffy features lit up. "He'll be here tomorra with the rest a the kids. Comin' on that very train."
Hagrid pointed and Ivy followed the direction of his gesture. A black and crimson steam engine sat chugging at the station. Ivy could see people milling around the cars. Her mouth opened to ask Hagrid more about Harry Potter, but the giant had already started across the street, bent on nothing but hippogriffs. Figuring she'd lost the conversation anyway, she shut her mouth and jogged across the street, catching up just in time to hear Hagrid muttering something that sounded like "beau'iful, jus' beau'iful," over and over again.
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"You can't just walk up to a hippogriff," a short man in a stovepipe hat was saying. "You have to let them look you over first. And when you catch their attention, bow just so. It's a friendly salutation. Only approach if he bends a knee in return."
"Tha's very important," Hagrid bent to mutter in Ivy's ear. "Whatever ya do, don't ferget that. Hippogriffs can be dangerous if not approached jus' so."
Ivy nodded, watching enthralled as the man in the stovepipe hat led the first one off the train. It was cinnamon colored, with a nobly arched neck and flashing amber eyes. The others came off one by one: grays and a black, chestnuts and strawberry roans. Ivy counted nearly a dozen. They were stately creatures, almost arrogant, but not quite. Ivy could see a certain kindness in their eyes, an intelligence that took in all their surroundings. Their enormity soon crowded the platform, and she knew they would have to be moved quickly to wherever Hagrid planned to keep them.
Engrossed in the way sunlight shimmered off feather and fur, Ivy didn't realize that she'd retreated, hiding herself behind Hagrid's great frame. Not until she looked down and saw a fistful of his waistcoat in her hands.
"Nuthin' ta be scared of," the giant reassured her. "I was hopin' ya might ride one over ta Hogwarts. Save us a trip."
Ivy's eyes widened in utter disbelief. The phrase 'When pigs fly' clung to the very tip of her tongue.
"No, Hagrid. No way.... There is no way I'm getting on that... that..."
"They're gentle as kittens once ya get acquainted," he insisted.
Ivy clutched her stomach and backed away, feeling as though he'd let 5 pound butterflies loose within her. No matter what Hagrid said, they didn't look a thing like kittens. The back half, the horse half, was comfortingly familiar, but it took a while to get used to the front half. That half was more like a giant-sized eagle, covered in feathers and sporting a cruel looking steel gray beak. The forelegs that ended in deadly sharp talons clicked menacingly on the train station's platform.
"It's why I brought ya down here," Hagrid cajoled, mustache twitching to cover a grin. "I could really use the help."
"Well... I thought you were trying to be friendly," Ivy informed him. "Do you know the stories I've read about these things? They fly off with their riders -- never to be seen again. I can't. I'm not ready for that Hagrid."
"Why sure ya are," he promised with a wink. "Ya just don't know it yet."
With that the giant stepped aside and Ivy was forced to stand face to face with the cinnamon colored hippogriff.
"Jus' bow, Ivy. Look it in the eye and bend yer knee."
"Hagrid. I don't want --"
"Shhhhhh!" the giant said, waving her forward. "Yer makin' it nervous." His tone left no room for backing out. "If a hippogriff ever rode off wi' its rider it was 'cuz they didn't wait fer a welcome. Jus' take it slow an' easy."
Ivy turned a look of resignation on the beast as it locked its haughty gaze upon her. It was either bow or the hippogriff would take her head off. And by the looks of its glowing beak Ivy had no doubt the creature could do it. A flash of irritation touched her as she realized she'd been set up, but in the end she did as instructed, performing a neat curtsy before the beast. After that there was no time for anger, although her heart did a somersault when the thought crossed her mind that maybe hippogriffs ate people who were not magical, instead of giving them rides.
Fear dissolved into wonder as the beast returned her bow, then stretched out its neck in what even a Muggle would have known as a plea to be petted.
"See there. I tole ya. She likes ya jus' fine. Scratch 'er fer a minute and she'll give ya a ride."
Ivy was no longer listening. Tears shone unshed in her eyes as she buried her hands in the hippogriff's satin softness. She smoothed the feathers along its neck, eyes never leaving its face, except when she closed them to whisper "beautiful, just beautiful."
Mounting the beast was a blur, but before she knew it, Ivy'd settled in just behind the hippogriff's wings.
"Circle Hogsmeade a couple a times, if ya want" Hagrid instructed. "I'll take these and O'Brien here'll bring up a couple. We'll have to come back fer the rest. Keep us in sight an' you'll have no trouble findin' the castle."
Ivy nodded, but had no time to see if Hagrid acknowledged. The cinnamon hippogriff - whom O'Brien called Gingerfoot - rose eagerly into the air. Ivy leaned into the rocking chair motion of flapping wings and pumping hooves and then they were away, lifting ever higher over Hogsmeade. The thought that she could possibly miss the castle struck her as funny, as the entire panorama of castle and village opened up before her.
She and Gingerfoot flew the length of Hogsmeade, then turned back, the hippogriff rising in ever-widening circles until thatched roofs became mere specks below them. The air thinned considerably as they rose higher, and Ivy began to feel giddy.
"I'm getting dizzy!" she shouted into the wind. Gingerfoot gave an ear-splitting screech and rose higher, then circled into a thousand-foot dive. Ivy screamed the whole length of the drop, but somewhere in between looking down on the clouds and torpedoing through them, the scream changed from fear into delight. A surge of adrenaline swept through Ivy, and she began to think that maybe pigs could fly, after all.
After sweeping the length and breadth of Hogsmeade a few times Gingerfoot changed directions, flying low over the still plodding forms of Hagrid, O'Brien and several hippogriffs.. A cool breeze wafted over the airborne animal and its rider as they skimmed the surface of the lake at Hogwarts.
Ivy closed her eyes, knowing with a touch of sadness that the ride was nearly over. The beast landed not far from a paddock where the other hippogriffs were being freed from their collars and chains. She felt strong hands encircle her waist as Hagrid helped to bring her back to earth, although one look in Ivy's direction made it obvious that her heart was till soaring in the sky. She tried to speak, but both voice and legs betrayed her. She tipped dangerously, and only Hagrid's firm support enabled her to stand.
The realization that she must look a sight slowly stole over Ivy as she caught Hagrid's openly curious gaze. Not only was her hair freed of its usual bonds, it was teased and tangled by the wind until it stood out from her head in all directions. Her eyes blazed with a newly-lit spark that had not been there upon her first timid approach toward the hippogriff, and the first thing she did when finally able to trust her legs again was dash forward to throw her arms around Gingerfoot's neck. The cinnamon colored beast screeched softly and pressed her beak against Ivy's flushed-red cheek.
"Made a friend, there," Hagrid commented as he busied himself getting the hippogriffs settled. Ivy pulled away from Gingerfoot and nodded, eyes still dreamy and full of clouds. She gazed up into the open sky, knowing that it would never look the same to her again.
"Are there any more to bring up from the station?" she asked, in a voice still hoarse from screaming. She attempted to smooth her hair down, but only succeeded in getting her fingers painfully tangled.
"Nah," Hagrid said. "O'Brien's a'ready back wi' the las' of 'em." Busy with tethering chains and collars, the giant didn't see Ivy's crestfallen look.
"Oh," she muttered, gripping the fence. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward Hogsmeade.
"I'll take ya back if yer ready," Hagrid offered. He turned to face her, leaning against the opposite side of the fence.
"Thanks, Hagrid." Ivy returned.
"T'wern't nuthin', really. Ya helped me out of a tight spot with the critters. Don't think I coulda handled more than 6 er 7 at once."
"What I meant was... thanks for the ride," Ivy explained, face reddening as she held his gaze.
"It was..." slowly she allowed herself to breathe the word.
"Magic."
Suddenly the patterns in the wooden fence became very interesting to the giant. He dropped her gaze and studied them carefully for a long time, until Ivy sighed and stepped away, reaching up once more in an attempt to smooth down her hair.
"Ya did me a favor Ivy. Won't ferget that." Hagrid said carefully. Then he walked through the gate and they started back toward Hogsmeade, Ivy still trying to tame down her hair.
"Leave it," Hagrid said, giving her a pat on the back that nearly sent her sprawling.
"It works fer ya."
Ivy laughed out loud, the noise echoing merrily off the lake. It was a good sound, open and full of possibility, and Ivy resolved then and there to use it more often.