Helgarda swivelled around in her chair, fascinated. Headmaster Dumbledore's office was a most intriguing place: towering shelves full of books, some looking very, very old; rolls of parchment, portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses, who smiled, waved, winked or grimaced at her as she regarded them; balls fixed in strange bronze fittings that allowed them to revolve when touched, showing incomprehensible pictures; and many objects too odd to describe.
Near the Headmaster's huge desk, a brilliantly coloured bird sat on a perch, watching her with a bright beady eye. Professor McGonagall sat next to her, and noticed her gaze on the bird. "That's Fawkes," she said. "He's a phoenix."
"I've never seen one," said Helgarda. "Is he a magical bird?"
"He certainly is," said Headmaster Dumbledore, settling himself in the thronelike chair in back of his desk. "He's immortal, burns himself down to his ashes now and then, and then arises whole and new from the ashes. His tears can cure terrible wounds."
Helgarda looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "I hardly know what to tell you," she said. "I only know that one moment I was fighting at my father's side, battling in the rain and the wind and the mud to vanquish the barbarians who want my father's holding, and the next moment I was in the forest near the castle."
"What's the very last thing you remember before you realised you were in the forest?" asked the Headmaster.
"There were three barbarian warriors trying to surround me," recalled Helgarda. I watched to see which one I would dispatch first, when someone else pulled my hair from behind me, and I saw a sword coming down towards my neck. I screamed for my father, and in the middle of that scream, I was here."
"Think carefully," urged Dumbledore. "In that moment, as the sword descended, did you hear or see anything else?"
Helgarda went over the events in her mind; yes, there had been something: something about the wind, although it had been blowing gusts of rain all day, something different…
She shook her head as thought to clear it. "Yes, there was something, something in the wind…I wish I could remember…" Helgarda put her hands over her eyes. "It – it hurts my head to think about it…" Tears trembled in her eyes.
Professor McGonagall put a comforting hand over hers. "Everything we know – everything we see, or hear, or feel, is somewhere in our heads; we keep everything tucked away. Sometimes it's difficult to pull out a particular experience, especially when it's involved with something frightening."
"What shall I do? If the answer is in my head, I want to pull it out!" cried Helgarda, pulling distractedly at her braid.
Professor Dumbledore reached into an oddly shaped dish on his desk and took out what seemed to be a yellow pebble. He popped it into his mouth. "Have a lemon drop," he said, holding out the dish to Helgarda.
"Thank you," she said, not wishing to appear ungrateful. She took a yellow pebble and put it into her mouth, where it melted into a sweet, slightly sharp liquid with an unfamiliar flavour. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "It's - very nice." Somehow, she felt calmer.
"I've given your situation a great deal of thought," said the Headmaster, "and done some research. I don't want to alarm you, Helgarda, but you seem like a bright young woman, and I believe you can deal with the truth."
"Please," Helgarda said, leaning forward, "Ungarn raised me to always seek the truth, no matter how painful or unpleasant. He also raised me to be brave." She sat erect, her head held high. "You honour me by telling me the truth."
"Very well," said Dumbledore. "I have learned a great deal about your homeland, and about the state of the world in those days." He looked at her out of clear blue eyes.
"In those days?" gasped Helgarda. "What are these days, then? How far- how long have I come?"
"About eleven hundred years," Dumbledore replied. "You have been snatched out of your own time and place and brought into ours, eleven hundred years and many miles from your Nordland."
Helgarda sat, stunned. Then she drew herself up, took a large breath. Her brows met, her fists clenched. "Who would do such a thing!" she demanded. "Who would wrest me from my father's side yet not kill me – and now that I am no longer there, what are they doing to my father?" She sprang out of her chair and began to pace. Anger coloured her cheeks.
"When someone takes such extreme measures as removing you in time and in space from your father's holding, they must have done it deliberately. It was no accident that you are not there, and I also believe it's no accident that you are here. It's possible that whoever did it is trying to jeopardize Ungarn's tenuous hold on his kingdom; the barbarians are probably regrouping and plan to strike again soon. With your brother out at sea and you gone – somewhere, your father's forces are weakened."
"But why Helgarda? Why not seize Ungarn himself?" asked Professor McGonagall.
"I've been pursuing that idea," said the Headmaster, "and came up with the unsettling thought that there's something specifically about Helgarda that someone wants out of the way – in her time."
"How can we know?" asked Helgarda. "If someone just wanted me gone, why not simply kill me?"
"There are clues we can't see yet," answered the Headmaster. "However, we can pursue them – with your agreement, Helgarda, because you're in the midst of things. First, we can help you to take a closer look at the something you noticed in the moment between being there and being here. It may seem a little strange to you, but I assure you, it's perfectly safe."
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Yes, Albus – we'll be very careful indeed. I think we'll need to talk to Madam Pomfrey, and then to Professor Snape." She turned to Helgarda: "We of the wizarding world have found ways to use natural substances to cure diseases, ease pain, and in some remarkable instances, enhance memory."
"That's amazing!" cried Helgarda. "Give it to me, I'll take it, whatever it is!"
"Not so fast," cautioned Dumbledore. "We call it 'Veritaserum,' and in your case, it will have to be compounded specifically for you. You're a giant, my dear!"
"Oh, I know why everyone says that," said Helgarda. "I'm half again as large as most people! Have you never given this, what did you call it, Veritaserum, to anyone my size before?"
Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at each other. "It's not quite that simple, Helgarda," said Professor McGonagall. "You've become friends with Hagrid, I noticed, and chances are he told you that he's a half-giant. In his case, it's true, but not in the same way as with you. Hagrid's mother was a full giant; his father was an ordinary-sized wizard. Unfortunately, Hagrid's mother left him and his father when he was quite young, and he doesn't like to talk about it."
"I understand," said Helgarda soberly. "That's very sad, and I don't blame him for not talking about it. Then, though, he's half giant and half what you call ordinary-size, like you. Then," she said slowly, "I'm a full giant, because both of my parents were the same size."
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "If I'm not mistaken, everyone in Nordland was much the same size."
"Yes," said Helgarda. "Now and then there was someone a little smaller or a little taller, but we are much the same."
"It's interesting, I must say," interjected Professor McGonagall, "that today, people in what used to be called Nordland are no longer giants. Something must have happened; they're smaller. That may or may not be related to the problem at hand. What is at stake here is how Helgarda got here, and why."
Professor Dumbledore stood up and came round to Helgarda, resting a grandfatherly hand on her shoulder. "My dear child, we will do everything possible to return you home, and also to solve this strange mystery. But there are some things that magic doesn't help us with, and for that we seek the help of others with other talents. We are fortunate to have a remarkable Runes Mistress at Hogwarts, and I am certain that she will be most agreeable to lending her assistance."
"Runes! Of course, everyone knows runes!" exclaimed Helgarda. "My father's mage, Skjald, reads the runes for us. However, " she sighed, "sometimes he doesn't make any sense, at least not to me."
"Oh, I think you'll find Dame Angharad much easier to understand," said Dumbledore. "She's a Druid as well, and she can farsee."
Helgarda shivered. Farseeing! No-one in Nordland had been able to see the future since the egg of time! Magic hadn't been seen much in Nordland for generations, but things might have begun to change. If so, the plotters might try to strike in a different way to offset this turn of events.
"Let's pay a call on Madam Pomfrey," said Professor McGonagall. "She'll give us an idea of how Veritaserum should be compounded for you. Then we'll visit Professor Snape." Her eyes twinkled. "I think you'll find him quite interesting."
Helgarda smiled. "Hermione has told me about Professor Snape," she said. "She says he looks like an overgrown bat, he is greasy and ugly and nasty, but he has a good heart. If he were in my land, my father would probably drag him into the sweat-bath, telling him it would do him good."
Minerva McGonagall laughed until she had to lean against the wall for a minute. They walked up the moving staircases, which behaved quite nicely for them. As they neared the hospital wing, they met Harry and Ron, who courteously bid them good day. Harry had a beautiful white Arctic owl on his shoulder.
"What have you there?" asked Helgarda. "She's lovely; is she a pet?"
"No, she's a messenger," answered Harry. "We use owls to carry messages back and forth; they're very dependable. This is my owl. Her name is Hedwig, and she's quite tame." The bird regarded Helgarda solemnly, and then lifted one leg. "She wants to go to you," said Harry.
Helgarda held out her arm, and the bird hopped on to it, looking at her with the owl's typical round-eyed stare. "Would that she could take a message to my father!" she said.
"She almost never lets anyone touch her but me," Harry said, "but she must want to help you.I don't know if Hedwig can find her way to Nordland, but she'll give it a try; she's very courageous. Here's a piece of parchment," he said, and pulled a small sheet out of a book he carried. Ron put his quill and inkwell on a nearby small table, and Helgarda thought a moment, wrote a few runes, blew on the parchment to dry it.
Harry rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg with a piece of string.
"Please, Hedwig, go to Ungarn and give him my message; let him know that I live and that I'm trying to return home," said Helgarda. Hedwig cocked her head, then pulled one of Helgarda's hairs out, tucked it in her breast, flapped her wings and circled the room once, then flew out of the nearest window.
