On his fourth day beneath the fjord, Gellert finally insisted he be allowed to leave. It was Harvest and his prophetic dreams had been back with a vengeance. He didn't know what they were trying to tell him about Harvest, but he was certain that was the event that he was being warned about. All he could see was Hermione, dressed in glorious gold and white, lifting the crimson-glowing pumpkins to her lips. Again and again and again.

It turned out that their plan to get him back up to the surface was to give him a form of dreamless sleep that would put him into a near-death state for ten minute, and tie him to Kelpie. The neat bubble of air in the cabin that he had lived in for the past few days required ritual ingredients that they just couldn't acquire at short notice.

As reluctant as he was to enact this plan, he had no other choice if he wanted to make it up to the surface in time for Harvest.

They used a potion to knock him out - a fishy, greenish brown concoction that made evil hissing sounds as he drank it. He was unconscious before he could throw it up.

When he woke again he was freezing cold and dripping, his legs tied painfully tight around Kelpie's heaving middle and his arms ties around Kelpie's neck. His face was pushed into the damp black strands of his mane. The air was cool and sweet after the stinking dampness of the underwater bubble, wind stirring his cheeks. They must have emerged only recently as Kelpie was still knee deep in water and breathing hard as he recuperated from what must have been an incredibly hard swim against the current.

'Kelpie?' He mumbled into the beast's neck. Strong muscles stirred beneath him as Kelpie shifted, lifting his head and taking several strides up and out of the water. A sort knicker altered him that they were on dry land and Gellert fumbled, struggling to untie the stiff, slimy rope that bound his hands. As soon as they were free, he sat up, stretching his arms towards the tree canopy above his head and the blue sky beyond it.

They were a fair way further down the fjord than the school, but certainly no more than half an hour's ride. It was a warm day for Norway's autumn, the trees sheltering them from the arctic wind yet allowing the morning sun to warm his skin.

'Feel up to walking?' He asked Kelpie as his breathing returned to normal. They didn't set of straight away, Gellert choosing to untie his legs first but as soon as he had Kelpie began to trot along the shoreline, confidently navigating over the rocky shore in bouncing steps that evolved into a loping, mile-eating gallop as they reached flatter sections of beach. With powerful surges of muscles, Kelpie lunged up the steep track, clambering up the steeply wooded sides of the fjord and emerging onto the windswept lawns of the castle. Already, students were riding along the ridge line in their finery; glittering jewels destined for the harvest ball and other, more sedately dressed heading for the Harvest ritual he knew Hermione had organised.

He was a streak of black mount and brown clothes, flying up the grounds and skidding to a muddy halt in the courtyard to cries of protest from a group of girls in massive hooped dresses. He left Kelpie waiting, dashing into the castle and tearing through the corridors.

'Gellert!' Berg cried as he burst into the room. Gellert ignored him, scrambling through his belongs with no attention paid to the havoc that had been wreaked upon them.

'Gellert! You're back.' Berg was suddenly in front of him, hands on his shoulders and holding him immobile.

'Yes. I need to get to Harvest.' He insisted, twisting out of Berg's grasp and stripping out of his soiled clothes.

'What happened? What's wrong?' Berg insisted, pulling a fresh white shirt from his own belongings and passing it to Gellert. He nodded his thanks and shrugged the item on along with a fresh set of school uniform trousers.

'Alice happened. I think she's going to try something tonight.' He didn't have any suitable robes for a Harvest celebration, but he dragged a comb through his hair and splashed fresh water over his face.

'You're presentable.' Berg informed him. His face was pinched with worry.

'Let's go.'

'Tell me what happened as we go. We're still early.' Berg insisted, shrugging on his own set of gold and russet robes.

Gellert summarised his story as they walked, including every detail - what Alice had said and his dreams. In return, Berg told him that Alice had said nothing, but that she had been investigated and had somehow provided a solid alibi. Whilst Gellert knew that it had been Alice who duelled him into the fjord, there were seven students - from both sides of the conflict, who also swore she'd been in the library, then lessons for the entire morning on the day he'd gone missing.

How she'd managed to be in two places at once - that was a mystery but by his own memory there was no denying it had happened.

They bandied about several theories, but neither proved more likely than the last and before long they were back in the courtyard. Kelpie was waiting obediently in the middle of the yard, gleaming like a black shadow among the opulently harnessed beasts and gathering quite a crowd.

'I assume Hermione organised it?' Gellert asked as a house elf handed him Kelpie's bridle. He exchanged it for the halter with practiced movements.

'Along with Anneken. Those two are terrifying.'

'I'm beginning to think you find all women terrifying.' Gellert allowed Berg to give him a leg up, then helped tow Berg's reluctant hippogriff out of the stables and onto the grassy lawn where it would let him mount.

'Just the women you surround yourself with.' Berg wheezed as he heaved himself up onto his mount's back. 'Meet you there. My chances of getting through all this mud on foot are minimal.'

Gellert nodded and turned Kelpie's head away, cantering easily along the ridge line as Berg joined the steady stream of winged beasts in the sky.

The teacher looked up in surprise when he reigned in next to the portal, the his eyes widened and his plum hat almost toppled from his head.

'Herr Grindelwald!' The teacher stammered. 'When did you... resurface? Your sister...'

'I'd like to meet with her immediately, if you'd let me through.' He interrupted, Berg landing in a whuff of air behind him.

'Of course, immediately, Herr Grindelwald.' The teacher scrambled over to open the portal.

'What exactly did Hermione do this time?' Gellert demanded in a low voice.

'Not sure. From what I heard, she just met with him and passed the message on to your mother. Told you you surround yourself with terrifying women.'

The portal shimmered open in front of them and the two boys rode forwards, slipping through the windswept plane and stepping out into the sunny morning light of Fort Stark.

There was a gathering of excited and curious wixen around the portal, and a row of pumpkins carved into an incredible variety of shapes, winding off over the hill.

'Well, get a move on then.' Gellert called out, nudging Kelpie through the crowd. 'It's pretty obvious where they want you to go!'

With a great murmuring of assent, the crowd trailed after them both. The pumpkin carvings were exquisite - ears of corn, faces, creatures, flowers, stars, moons, castles, broomsticks and cauldrons, family crests both familiar and the simple form of the wolf-dog that adorned Hermione's own ring.

The trail ended beneath a massive, sprawling cedar tree, huge boughs shading the dusty ground below. There were several events - archery, apple bobbing, pumpkin jinxing and sword fighting were familiar, but there was also skittles and darts, javelin throwing, horse racing and instead of the usual sleipnir race, they would be racing hippocampus across the lake. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, but he spotted Anneken and Krum at the base of the mighty tree where the mounts were being tethered and as the crowd dispersed, he trotted over to them.

'Gellert!' Anneken cried, almost dragging him down from Kelpie to hug him.

'Where's Hermione?' he mumbled into her dress.

'Over by the altar.' Anneken snagged his sleeve as he tried to hurry off, holding his shoulders firmly and forcing him to stand still whilst she looked him over. 'When did you get back?'

'An hour ago, less perhaps. I really have to see Hermione.'

'Of course, she's still a bit shaken. She had an encounter with a troll at school. Here, let me clean you up a little first.' Anneken waved her wand over him several times, first cleaning his skin of odour, then changing the stripe on his trousers to gold to match the festival. Then she released him with a wave of her hand and he hurried away towards the altar, wondering what on earth Hogwarts was doing setting first years against trolls.

The altar was under a massive willow tree, the delicate whips that held the leaves tumbling to the ground in an almost precise circle. Hermione was a pale candle flame against the bough of the tree, her dress pooling around her like melted wax.

'Hermione?' He ventured. The witch's head snapped up and she was across the clearing so quickly that she may as well have apparated. Like Anneken had done, Hermione threw her arms around him and wrapped him in a hug, but she also, in a way that was completely Hermione, hugged him with her magic. He could feel it wash over him, dancing playfully with his own and radiantly warming him.

'I knew you'd get back. What happened?' The young witch demanded into his shoulder. He pulled away slightly, noting that there were a couple of small scratches on her face and hands

'You first. Anneken said you had to fight a troll!'

'Oh, I did!' Hermione's eyes widened. 'Ron accidentally set fire to my hair during charms and I had to go to the bathroom to fix it, but I couldn't remember the charm! It was awful. Anyway, I was waiting until everyone was at the feast so that I could go to the library to look it up. Somehow, a troll got in and apparently everyone was sent back to their dormitories, of course, Harry and Ron realised that I wouldn't know and of course, my dormitory is in the dungeons and they were worried the troll would catch me on my way down unescorted, so they came to tell me.' She paused slightly, hesitating over her words.

'Well, they haven't been the best at learning their way around the castle, and they saw the troll coming, they thought they'd lock it into the room it wandered into... well, it turned out that was the bathroom I was in!'

'No!' Gellert hissed furiously.

'Yes! Anyway, luckily they realised that too, because they came in just in time to rescue me.'

'Rescue you? Surely not, you're a very powerful witch.'

'Really. It was a juvenile mountain troll, so it's skin was almost entirely spell resistant and I wasn't prepared at all. I managed to trip it up, but the room was so small that it just got really angry. Anyway, Harry and Ron started shouting at it and distracted it just as it was about to hit me with the club, then, I don't quite know how, Harry jumped on it's back and stuck his wand up it's nose - he's been raised by muggles, I don't think he knew exactly what he was doing. Then when it flung him off, Ron managed to levitate it's club and drop it on it's head, knocking it out.'

'Where were the teachers?' Gellert demanded and Hermione shushed him with her hands.

'They burst in just as the troll collapsed and they were really angry. Of course, they'd all been in the dungeons looking for it, when it was actually on the third floor. Now, you've heard my story, how did you end up at the bottom of the lake?' Hermione folded her hands over her lap and looked at him expectantly. He sighed, hoping his mother at least understood the severity of the risk placed upon Hermione's life and had properly disciplined the Hogwart's staff.

'It was Alice.' He said lowly and Hermione gasped furiously. He grabbed at her wrist, holding her down before she could storm off. 'I was practicing my sword forms on the edge of the fjord and Alice found me. I didn't want to break the treaty, so I backed into the water, hoping that Kelpie would come and rescue me. Then, before he could get there, Alice tried to attack me. Her spell was so strong that I fell over on the slippery rocks and I was washed under before I could do anything. The current is very strong, and I was dragged down. I almost drowned. Then, when I woke up again, Kelpie had found a Mer village and they'd brought me into a special air bubble. It took me a couple of days to recover enough to make the trip back up to the surface.'

'That cow! How did she do it, there were so many people that witnessed her in the school at the time?' Hermione spat. She wouldn't be carrying her wand, she very rarely did when her wandless magic was as good as it was and she needed to wear a dress where concealment would be difficult. If she was, he imagined she would have already drawn it and been stomping off to the ministry to dispute Alice's protection under the treaty.

'We don't know, we need to figure that out first before we accuse her of anything. What's more important though is that my dreams are back.'

'Your dreams, as in your prophetic dreams?' She demanded.

'Yes, the same one again and again.'

'What about?' The vision flashed before his eyes, Hermione lifting the pumpkin up to her lips.

He told her, giving his wise, wonderful younger sister every insignificant detail he could think of. She listened attentively, nodding along and making noises of understanding.

'I assume its warning us about danger. The last ones were, right?' Hermione confirmed, leaning back and drumming her fingers against the altar.

'I get a feeling of urgency with it, but there's nothing that says what is going to go wrong.' He slammed his fist into his leg in an attempt to express his frustration. Hermione frowned sharply at the movement.

'Okay, lets think about this logically, what could go wrong?'

Gellert looked at her incredulously.

'Come on, okay, the ritual itself could go wrong. My part wouldn't, my family magic wouldn't let it but Anneken's would. What would happen if her part went wrong?'

'Nothing, the bull's blood would just be blood. Your magic is so active during rituals that you don't really need her to guide it.' Gellert replied, 'if the link didn't get her part right, the blessing would just be weak.' He considered carefully.

'Alice can't get into the ritual.' Hermione added confidently and Gellert looked around for a ward or barrier.

'There's no barrows here...' He trailed off and Hermione grinned.

'The willow.' She said smugly, 'is buried over the body of one of the earliest Lintzen Matriarchs. Which means that everything inside the reach of her branches is protected.'

'Guaranteed?' Gellert checked.

'Well no, but they'd have to get through her, Mordred and the Tunningers, who've offered to help her somehow... I don't understand exactly what the dead can and can't do, but they were all pretty confident they could keep us safe.'

'Right... what else...' Nothing else jumped to mind. Nothing, that is, that wasn't absolutely ridiculous like being struck by lightning or being trampled by rampaging hippocampus.

'You'll just have to be ready with your wand, okay.' She instructed. Gellert grimaced. He had no idea where his wand had gone, perhaps it might eventually wash up somewhere but for now it was lost. He would have to procure a replacement which was unfortunate because despite it's rough look, he had become attached to his first one.

'I lost it.' He admitted. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth.

'Oh! Are you okay? I know you really liked it.'

'It's okay. Berg might be able to summon it back for me.' He suggested optimistically and Hermione nodded fervently. Berg might not be able to, but Hermione certainly would. Perhaps he could get her to search for it during the holidays?

'You can borrow mine for now. I'll go an grab it, and a cloak for you too...'

'I'm coming. You're not going to be alone for a minute tonight.' He vowed. What he could actually do without a wand was minimal, he wasn't the wandless powerhouse that she was. Perhaps he could punch Alice in the nose? He flexed his fist experimentally.

The walk to the house was a reasonable distance and Hermione's dress was very pale, so in the interest of keeping it clean, he fetched their mounts. Katana greeted Kelpie with his usual screeches and nickers, then offered the same to Gellert as he reached up to stroke his scaled snout. As usual, he was struck by just how massively tall Katana was, towering even over the tall shoulders of Kelpie and almost as tall as a Sleipnir. Hermione must have been riding him hard over the past weeks; his shoulders and quarters were heavily corded with muscle and his scales gleamed like polished moonlight. He hadn't yet shed his antlers, but Gellert could smell the sweet potion that Hermione used to ease the itching when they became loose.

He helped her up, shaking his head as she hiked up her skirts to ride astride instead of sidesaddle like she really should with a dress like that. Ankles, and their exposure remained a topic of debate between them.

They caught up as they rode, Hermione mentioning that she would be meeting with the goblins over Yule and telling him about her Hogwarts house. It was wonderful to just ride together under the fading warmth of the autumn sun, talking about school and homework like every other person in the world.

Their stop in the castle was brief, Hermione found him a cloak and picked up her wand, holding it out to him. Her wand liked him well enough; it certainly wasn't a matched wand, but it would channel his magic if he asked it to.

They arrived back just in time for a go at pumpkin jinxing before the horn called them to the feast. For something planned in a matter of days, the feast was spectacular. There were no tables, instead they all sat on long, tartan blankets stretched out along the grass. The food was served on a single long, groaning table and they had to take their plates up to fill, then return to their seats. It was fun and forced everyone to unbend a little; sitting at whatever spot was free on the blankets forced him to talk to people he wouldn't usually.

By the time the ritual was due to begin, magic was already humming in the air.

In the darkness, the ritual area looked stunning. It glowed golden in the light of carved pumpkins and hundreds of floating candles. The produce at the foot of the altar was plump and rosy; the picture of plenty. Upturned faced glowed in the soft light as people took in the spectacle and gold glittered warmly on their clothing. Gellert joined the men just inside the ring of branches, scanning the crowd with both his magic and his eyes to search for threats. Hermione's wand was already clenched in his fist, concealed within the wide sleeve of the robe she'd found for him.

He saw nothing, he felt nothing. The ritual began, Hermione's family magic unfolding, awaking, reaching out with it's ancient, magnificent power. He forcefully ignored it's beckoning, refocusing on the surroundings. There were four magical presences, standing at the cardinal points around the perimeter of the tree. He could feel their awareness, even as he realised he couldn't see them. Investigating further, he felt the dark flames of Mordred and bright, green floral tones that were unmistakably feminine but wild with old magic. He assumed that was the Lintzen Matriarch beneath the tree, watching over the ritual.

Hermione stepped out onto the altar; her skin glowed like a true sun, magical wind whipping around her with enough ferocity to send the candles guttering. Her family spoke through her mouth, ancient and strong as she passed the pumpkin to Anneken. Anneken, gothically beautiful in her black dress, slaughtered the bull and Gellert looked around once more, checking for danger.

He saw nothing.

Exactly as she had in his dream, Hermione lifted the pumpkin to her lips.

She drank it, flaming liquid lighting her skin on fire.

She stepped to the edge of the altar, a single delicate hand reaching for the star of magic between the link's fingers. With a flash of light and a crack of thunder, the two magics melded. Wind roared through the clearing and Gellert leaned into it. Hermione was obscured by thrown up dust and leaves, yet the wind continued to build. A hand snatched at his shoulder as he was almost shoved backwards by the force of the gusts. A pointed hat spiralled haphazardly past his shoulder and the man behind him swore at it hit.

A second hand appeared on his shoulder, and Mordred materialised in front of him. He looked very pale, his incorporeal form unaffected by the wind by marked by strain and worry.

'Something's wrong!' The spirit bellowed.

'What?' Gellert shouted back.

'She's dying.'

Ice tipped down his spine and settled in his stomach.

'How? What do we do?'

'Badesar!' Mordred shouted 'She needs a Badesar.'

Then Berg was there, his robe whipping around him.

'What's happening?' Berg hollered.

'She's been poisoned. Her magic is trying to protect her.' Mordred shouted over the wind.

'What's a Badesar?' Gellert demanded urgently.

'Bezoar. Old word for Bezoar.' Berg answered.

'Flighty!' Gellert bellowed. The answering crack was almost lost in the wind.

'Yous called.' The squeaky voice rose tremulously over the roaring wind. 'Missy Hermione is very sick.'

'Find a Bezoar. Quickly.' He ordered. Flighty disappeared, then reappeared barely two seconds later with a large pouch.

'Flighty has.'

He snatched up bag, chucking everything aside in his haste to reach what he needed. He shoved the almost empty bag in Berg's hands and, clutching the small stone. It was like swimming against the current again. Hermione's magic was uncontrolled, forcing everyone and everything away and it did not discriminate between him and the enemy it believed was attacking it. Mordred guided him, his ethereal form unaffected by the force. It was like an obstacle course - pumpkins rolled across the ground, bouncing like tumbleweed whilst apples rolled underfoot to trip him.

Hermione lay sprawled across the altar, fire still licking her skin and charring the wooden surface beneath her. Thin streams of blood trickled from her mouth and nose, steaming and sizzling against the heated wood.

The faded protection rune on his shoulder flared as he pushed his hand through her flames and forced the small stone into her mouth. A moment later, she swallowed.

She screamed, accompanied by a pulse of powerful magic, her back arching off the ground. Then fell silent.

The wind died, leaves and dust settling quietly in the sudden deafening absence of noise. Around them, wixen clambered to their feet, missing hats and robes, battered by twigs and fruit.

'What happened.' Someone asked.

'I need a healer.' Gellert shouted. 'A healer, someone. She's been poisoned!'

There was a stirring of movement, then Herr Friedl hurried out from the back of the crowd. A witch came forwards as well, peach smeared over her sleeve and her hair blown out of it's neat bun.

'How?' Herr Friedl demanded, kneeling beside the unconscious witch. Gellert looked to Mordred who shrugged and with no better ideas, Gellert reached for the carved pumpkin, caught against the bull's carcass.

'I think this.'

The witch took it, pulling out her wand and casting a host of detection charms until one shimmered golden.

'He's right. There's an incredibly high concentration of some kind of herbicide, perhaps Grow-Green or Gallix's Grass Growth Solution.' She confirmed and Herr Friedl clucked his tongue in concern. He too was casting a rapid series of diagnostics and his expression was not reassuring.

'Did you give her a bezoar?' He eventually demanded and Gellert nodded mutely. 'Good, best thing for her. Send an elf for another, we'll make sure we've gotten the entire dose neutralised.'

Berg, who had crowded up behind him mutely passed the bag and Herr Friedl grunted in appreciation, opening her mouth and spelling her to swallow another one of the bobbly stones.

Several other coven members were crowded around them now, blocking out the curious public. Anneken, who'd received the worst blast of Hermione's magic, had a torn dress and ears of corn all through her hair. She was shepherding people away towards the fireside and instructing them to carry on. Faintly, music started up.

'There's strong traces of the herbicide in the bull's blood.' Frau Hassel reported smartly, standing up form where she too had been casting diagnostics.

'Impossible, the fields were sprayed months ago. There should be no trace of it left in their system.' Herr Lintzen huffed.

'The concentration would put it at being sprayed two days ago.' Frau Hassel emphasised.

'Impossible! Fungus!' Herr Lintzen bellowed. Fungus must have been the name of the house elf that appeared a moment later, swaying on the spot. A second elf popped up next to him a moment later, her little Lintzen crested sheet crumpled and messy.

'Blossoms is apologising, Master. Fungus is very sick.' The elf bowed until her long nose almost touched the ground and dragged a slightly baffled Fungus into doing the same.

'Looks like a powerful confundus at least.' Frau Fleiss observed.

'There's traces of powerful but rudimentary healing magic, I assume her Sect tried to intervene and heal her, she would have been dead in seconds otherwise.' Herr Friedl concluded from his spot on the ground.

'So someone tried to kill her?' Anneken demanded, having returned from the fire.

'And damn near succeeded.' Her Lintzen had gone purple with fury and the two elves were in tears at his feet. Blossom was begging to not be given clothes. 'Oh shush. This was not your doing, Blossom. Fetch me small vials, Fungus might have seen who it was that confounded him.'

'Doubtful, this was a very well planned attack. Hermione always wears her crown and the protective charms on that are unbelievable, her food is tasted, she cares for her own beast... I imagine this is the first time anyone has had a chance to get to her. They must have known exactly what the ritual involves and what would get past the protections.' Frau Lintzen added. She had wrapped her hand firmly around her husband's arm and looked very pale.

'What is your prognosis? Someone will need to break the news to Katerina.' Herr Lintzen directed towards Herr Freidl and the healer-witch.

'Good, her Sect's efforts protected her from the worst of the damage and Gellert's quick administration of a Bezoar neutralised most of the poison. I'd like to perform more diagnostics, but I hope that a round of rehydration potions should have her back to normal.'

'Wonderful news.' Several members of the coven sagged in relief. It seemed nobody had wanted to face his mother with bad news. With the healers now acting with less urgency, Gellert leaned forwards to get his own look at Hermione.

She was very, very pale. Her hair was splayed darkly around her face, and her lashes were dark feathers against her almost blue cheeks.

'I'll get Katana to carry her back to the castle.' Gellert offered, receiving a quick nod from the healers. He hurried out of the circle and over to where Berg was hovering nervously. He updated his adopted brother quickly and Berg's tense features relaxed fractionally.

'I'll follow you up to the castle.' Berg helped him up onto Katana's towering back, then trotted over to his hippogriff as Gellert nudged the beast across to the huddle around the altar. A space was opened up for him to get through and Herr Lintzen lifted Hermione up and placed her securely in front of him. Her head lolled back against his shoulder and once more Gellert remarked over how light she was.

As soon as she was secure, he wrapped an arm around her waist and took the reins in the other. Without prompting, the beast spread his huge wings and swept into the air. Berg was already winging his way towards the castle, moonlight reflecting off his beast's feathers. Katana was a much faster flier, and even at his smoothest, most stable, he shot past them like an arrow from a bow. They landed in the courtyard barely a blink later where three elves were already waiting to take her to bed.

'It was Alice again, I know it.' Berg spat furiously.

'Can we prove it though? She'll have an alibi again.' Gellert replied bitterly. Of all the stupid things to go wrong, neither of them had even considered something like that. He had assumed the blood would somehow be cleansed by the ritual, but the evidence that it wasn't now stared him in the face.

'She'll try again.' He cautioned

'I know. We just need to figure out how she's doing it. If we can do that, we can catch her in the act.'

'But she'll try again.'

'And we'll keep foiling her. Eventually she'll slip up.'

'She better. If she succeeds...' Berg trailed off.

'I'd kill her.' Gellert vowed. 'Damn the treaty, I'd kill her.'