Don't worry, do Gellert Grindelwald or Hermione Granger strike you as the kind of people to let something they feel strongly pass up without fighting? They're 8 and 10 respectively, they've got years yet to fight for what they want.
After a long day of lessons, Hermione could barely wait for the freedom of visiting Katana in his stall. She never slept anymore, so the soft, repetitive motion of brushing his mane and polishing his scales was as close to the peace of deep sleep as she could get.
The sweet smell of the stables was pierced by the cool, fresh air of Longma's enchanted stall, occasional wafts of dampness sullying it from Gellert's Kelpie. She expected to see her beast's snout poking over the door, having learned her schedule like clockwork, so she was surprised to be met by nothing. Kelpie was tossing his head angrily opposite, seeming unusually agitated.
A flicker of unease stirred in her belly, but she checked anyway, confirming that the stall was indeed empty. Her chest felt tight, like she couldn't quite get enough air.
She couldn't think of anywhere her beast could have gone. The stall was still shut tight, both bolts drawn across, so he hadn't wandered off on his own. Someone must have stolen him.
Just in case she went to the public fields, Longma were social animals and if he had broken out both the herd of other beasts and the luscious enchanted grass they cropped on would have been a beacon to him.
He wasn't there.
She checked the rose garden, then the cattle yard where the Grindelwald animals had been kept since the rise of Lucan. Still no sign of the distinctive blue-white scales of her Longma.
Her breathing came faster still, even as she maintained a dignified pace as she checked the tack room; Longma's harness was missing. He had been taken by someone, and they must have left the castle grounds if she hadn't already seen her beast.
She asked the khaki clad ministry official at the gate. He was a sleepy man with a salt and pepper beard that looked like it had been trimmed with a knife. Either his shaving charms were terrible, or he really wanted to look like a ruffian. His squinted at her as if deciding whether she was worth replying to or if he could get away with turning up his nose at her. Fortunately he decided to answer.
'Yeah, animal came through here earlier with a girl, they're the only ones to come out here today.' He cast a dark look at the fiery eyes of the dragons that would light the area in front of the gates at night, as though wishing nobody would come through at all so that he could get away with falling asleep at his post.
'Let me through please.' She half asked, half begged and the man gave a frustrated sigh. Despite his reluctance, he obliged, shuffling into the gatehouse to activate the ward stone. The dragon wings peeled apart and she slipped through to the outside world.
It seemed darker and colder outside the protective barrier of the castle walls, but luckily the lack of traffic meant the prints of the Longma were clear on the ground. She conjured a witchlight and followed the cloven prints down the winding track. They weren't hurried, just a slow walk as if the rider was completely at ease, although perhaps not very good if the occasional scuff of an almost-halt was to be believed.
The sun was well below the ridge when she came across Katana, that girl from the stables mounted precariously on his back. She froze, torn by relief and fiery rage. How dare that little girl take advantage of her generosity and use her mount without permission? How dare she leave the castle, didn't she know how much she'd scared Hermione?
The young witch called out to the Longma, who's head whipped up to stare at her. Without hesitation the beast spun, almost throwing the slip of a girl from his back, and trotted up the path towards her.
'Hermione!' The girl whimpered when she caught sight of the furious young witch. Hermione ignored her in favour of cradling Katana's huge head to her chest and pressing kisses along his soft snout. Her hands came away damp and she could see the blue of his blood speckling her fingers, she ducked down to see where he was injured, tears pricking her eyes. His soft mouth was sore from the sawing at the reins and the savage tugs that the girl used to keep her balance.
Rage flooded Hermione, all thoughts of forgiveness for a girl who just wanted a turn fled her mind. She yanked the girl's hand, sending her tumbling to the ground with a cry of shock and pain. The young witch loomed over the girl, her shadow long and terrible in the witchlight.
'How dare you!' She hissed, baring her stained hands in proof. 'How dare you take my beast, how dare you injure him?'
Her magic crackled beneath her skin, her hair sparking with anger. Katana rubbed his snout comfortingly against her cheek, almost bowling her over, but if anything it just made her angrier.
'I'm sorry, didn't know it was hurting him, I just wanted a go.' The girl begged, shuffling backwards beneath Hermione's furious gaze.
'Then you should have asked. I'll never say yes now... infact, I'll speak to Lady Grindelwald, I'll have you...' She trailed off, the girl was no longer looking at her. Instead, she was looking at something over Hermione's shoulder, her previously pale face had morphed to one of abject terror.
A shadow joined hers on the ground, towering up and up, reaching the edge of the trail and rippling up and over the tree line. Someone incredibly tall had just stepped up behind her, someone tall and thin, whose skin was unnaturally cold.
'What will you do?' Purred the man behind her. His voice was cold as his skin, and Hermione flinched as sharp blackened nails closed over her shoulder.
'I'd have her kicked out.' She trembled, answering the question instinctively.
'Would you now? And just who are you to waltz up to the venerable Lady Grindelwald and demand to have people kicked out?' The tall man stepped forwards, and Hermione didn't need to see the long, black braid trailing down his back to know that they were in deep, deep trouble.
Livius Lucan's long, pale hand reached out and grasped the blue harness on the Longma, the Grindelwald crest glittering in the witchlight. The beast snapped at him, but he slipped out of the way with laughable ease and he retreated back so that Hermione was between him and the beast.
'I've heard of you, Grindlewald's ward. Future wife of the young heir. You would make quite a prize.' The dark wizard reached out again with those pale fingers and ran them over one of her braids. His claw like nails snagged on the soft strands, pulling at her head hard enough to bring out a whimper of pain. 'I think I might keep you. What better way to force the coven to listen to my vision?'
'Lady Grindelwald will not make concessions for me.' She bit out. The young girl was shuffling backwards now, Lucan's attention was fixed on the older of the two witches. Hermione hoped that she had the sense to run for help as soon as she could.
'Oh, I imagine she will. I could send her a finger, or perhaps one of those pretty little ears.' His finger curled away from her hair to cup an ear and Hermione jerked away with an inarticulate screech, scrambling into the protection of Katana's teeth and hooves. The dark wizard chuckled darkly but kept his distance.
'Oh yes, I think you'll do nicely.' His wand had appeared in his hand, an ugly thing with knobbly knuckles down it's length - nothing like the lovingly polished wand that she wielded.
Strike first, Gellert had always told her.
So she did. Fire roared from her hands, searing the air and igniting a ring of zombies that had stood invisible around her. Katana lunged at those at her back, teeth snapping and sickening tearing sounds marking the decapitation of a body. Lucan stepped through her flames, a shield burning silver around his body.
In the brightly lit clearing, Hermione could tell that the young girl had gone. She only had to hold out for long enough for her to fetch help. She threw a jinx, then another and another, lights zinging from her hands as fast as she could think of them. Her magic responded to her fear as Katana tore into the bodies behind her, protecting her back. Livius Lucan's shield flashed again and again, his wand weaving behind it as he deflected her magic. She sent another wave of fire, igniting another ring of bodies and sending thick clouds of smoke billowing around them.
Adrenaline made the leap onto Katana's back easy and the beast plunged forwards without urging, his flameproof scales barging through the burning inferi as she sent uncontrolled billows of flame out around them. Then they were through, the blackness of night blinding after the bright fire of the battle as Katana surged away.
A bright flash of purple light, a squeal of pain, then blackness.
Blackness.
Blackness.
Blackness.
She hadn't been out long, perhaps only minutes and pain seared through her heart as she remembered the last, desperate moments. She was airborne, slung over a winged beast she couldn't see in the pitch black night sky. The skin her cheek rubbed against was warm and leathery, a hard bone protruding where her cheek banged hard enough to bruise with every pump of the beast's wings.
Katana was gone, probably dead. Her faithful Longma would never have let anyone take her if he was still alive. The tears where whipped from her eyes by the icy wind that blasted past them but she couldn't move without that bone banging into her nose instead.
They landed at the mouth of a large cave, Livius Lucan swinging off the back of his beast with practiced ease and traversing the moonlit stretch of ground with the reins in his hands. The interior was also unlit and the beast beneath her clopped through what sounded like a large, echoing cavern.
It smelled rank, like the time her father had pulled a dead rat from the attic but worse, as though she'd then put that rat right under her nose. She dry heaved against the horse's side and a cold laugh echoed from Lucan up ahead.
A moment later the beast stopped and his cold hands hauled her down off the beast. Her hands were immobilised by some spell, and her feet were numb with cold as she was forced over the rough ground and through a fusty, smaller corridor where their footsteps didn't echo as much.
Then they stepped through a magical barrier and into a room lit by green glowing orbs that floated around the ceiling. Zombies were packed into the space and he forced her between putrid, foul smelling bodies to a set of rough hewn stone stairs. She stumbled up them, propelled by his unforgiving hand which scrunched the back of her dress and she was greatly relieved when they passed through a stone archway in the wall and into a far less offensive room.
There was a circle of runes on the floor, not as intricate as the one Lady Grindelwald had used to create the shade for her lessons, but darker looking. The protection rings around it suggested that whatever he was planning to use it for had great potential for harm.
A desk looked out of place, lit by a real, warm looking candle but marred by several terrible, dark looking books. The dark wizard flicked his wand, conjuring a black pillar in a corner of the room. A second wave had a heavy, medieval set of chains snaking around it and he fastened the heavy manacles around her delicate wrists.
She dropped to the floor, seeing no reason to stand and laid the heavy chins over her knees so they wouldn't dig into her wrists. She was afraid, but she was reasonably confident that in a matter of minutes she would wake up back in the muggle world with her parents. The Grindelwald castle wards were certainly stronger than this place and she bypassed them every night, so here should be no different. With this thought to anchor her, she shut her eyes, reaching out magically to see if she could remember anything of interest.
There had been bright lights in the distance, a city of some sort, and the wind had been blowing against them as they'd flown. She couldn't remember the exact wind direction at the castle but there was a reasonable chance that someone would know if she reappeared in her bed the next day. She hoped she would reappear in her bed and not back here, chained to the pillar.
There was a clock on the wall and if she squinted she could just make out the hands in the shadows. It looked to be half past nine, so assuming she'd spent about an hour looking for Katana after lessons and half an hour following him down the hill, then perhaps half an hour since they'd arrived, they'd been airborne for about two hours.
'You won't be able to hold me.' She told him serenely as shoes sent a rock clattering near her. His laugh was closer than she had expected and her eyes snapped open to see his black ones only inches form her own. He was crouched and his wand poked up under her chin, forcing her to maintain eye contact.
'You are an impressive witch? Nine, perhaps eight? That was some powerful magic for one so young, but you cannot possibly compete with me. I have fought the coven and you are not yet a match for them.' He laughed cooly, then dropped her chin and stood as a mirror hung on the wall flashed. An image appeared, out of focus and wavering as though the point of view was moving. She couldn't see the details because of the bad lighting, but it looked like seven figures were huddled near the glowing dragons at the gates. Lucan seemed to see more than her though, because he laughed in delight.
'And the knight in shining armour rides out to rescue the maiden in distress. How very predictable. I better go reel him in.'
Lucan disappeared with a pop, and Hermione finally got a clear view of the image in the mirror. Gellert, magic curse his foolishness, was leading a band of ministry officials down the path, obviously intending to rescue her, and walking straight into a trap in the process.
Her cry of frustration echoed even after her body had disappeared back to her muggle bedroom.