Over the rest of the month, Arry learns that just because she has the knowledge needed to perform magic at her fingertips, doesn't mean that she's any good at it. This is shown in both Charms and Transfiguration as she is consistently in the last half of the group to achieve the exercise of the lesson. Matchstick to needle, lagging, making a lumos change colours, lagging. Even Ne'stbei was doing better than her, even if Master Flitwick had needed to look up an obscure spell, in order to see the colours of light she was producing on her wand. Potions, herbology, and even defense were fine, she was frequently in the top 25% of the classes. Except Defense, where often as not, the class would end up cancelled because Professor Quirrell would have a fit or whatever it was that happened whenever she stared at the back of his head.
History of Magic was a loss, it was word for word exactly the same as it was when Minva, Pomona, and Priya all attended the school. After pointing Hermione to the memories, even she agreed it was a waste, so as a group the Hufflepuff first years started to use the lesson to do their homework. Much to the disgust of the Ravenclaws they shared the class with, who didn't have the advantage of 3 sets of memories to compare the lesson with.
Astronomy was, awkward. Ne'stbei couldn't actually use the telescopes as her vision wouldn't allow her to see through the glass. For Arry and Hermione, who could also see heat naturally, trying to see the stars was like trying to see through fogged glass. No amount of cleaning would clear the fog though.
In the common knowledge class in the library, they learnt about things that were considered common knowledge. Some of which, weren't very common for 11-year-olds. Such as the fact that House Elves need magic to survive, and that the bond they have with a family is a symbiotic relationship where they trade magic for services. Or the fact that much of magic is symbolic rather than structured, that accidental magic and wand magic seem to be incompatible, and so learning wand magic cuts down on bursts of accidental magic. Oh, they also cover things like how to use lamps, how the toilets work, and the other mundanities of life.
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Henry and Vivian returned to work two weeks ago, after getting their own wands and a crash course in the most basic magic. They, along with the older Yautja were all having weekend lessons to bring their capabilities up to par. Today, Henry got out of bed as normal and had a decidedly abnormal bowel movement. As they are having breakfast, he doubles over clutching his abdomen, as it felt like he'd just been kicked in the guts or something.
"Henry, are you ok?"
"No, there's something wrong, it feels like, AARRGH! Something's clawing at my insides."
Concerned, Vivian grabs Henry and transports them both to the infirmary in Hogwarts.
Madam Pomfrey comes bustling out of her office and only pauses for a single beat before coming over to see what's going on, "What seems to be the problem?"
Henry groans in pain, "I don't know, there's something wrong inside my abdomen."
"Well up on the bed, and we'll see what we can see."
After she finishes her scans, she puts her wand away, "Congratulations Madam Granger, you are having your first menses. I can tell that you have the beginnings of the female reproductive system. The pain that you're feeling is partially simply because of the natural process, and partially because the uterine lining doesn't currently have anywhere to go. I can give you a couple of pain relief potions, though they should only be taken at night so that you can sleep. Applying heat will also help. I'm sure that your wife will have her own solutions too."
"Fuck, is there anything you can do to undo this?"
"I'm afraid not, I can't even give you a contraceptive potion as your body and magic are still developing. If you're worried about children, order 'Line continuation and you, a look at fertility options for non-traditional marriages' from Flourish and Blotts or Wizz hard books. I'd recommend the latter, as they're better for international imports. It's written with healers in mind, but you should be able to understand it, being doctors yourselves. It's about fertility for witches witches, and why the same is impossible for wizards wizards."
"Viv, does this mean that you go through this every month?"
"Oh God no, I know some women that do. However, mine aren't usually anywhere close to that bad. We'll get you home and dose you with some ibuprofen, and make you a hot water bottle. I'll deal with the practice and bring home some chocolate."
Henry gives her a disgusted look, even as Vivian transports them both back home.
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T'o-Ba'sall growls, as another hunting party boards her ship. She was just starting to get the House elves trained up on the systems, so that they could maintain the ship. And the stupid inconsiderate arseholes, English was such an expressive language, decided to just punch a hole in the hull of the ship rather than using one of the perfectly serviceable airlocks, or even the docking bay. Stalking forward she transforms in to the biggest xenomorph she's ever seen, apart from Arry. Pauses for a few heartbeats as she examines herself, then disappears with a pop.
E'jeah knew this was a bad idea. She'd heard stories about this ship, and the vendetta the Dark Blade Clan seems to have with it. But Ma'ytun had persuaded the rest of the hunting party that it was a good opportunity to gain much honour and prestige. Initial scans of the ship showed only 50 life signs; apart from one Yautja, all of them R'ka. This in and of itself set her instincts buzzing, but the young bloods were so hyped up on finding such a small hive they ignored her pleas for leaving it alone. Even her objections about the sensor ghosts they were seeing, life signs so small and appearing and disappearing all over the ship, were ignored. She still can't believe she was once this rash a century ago. Then they completely ignored the Yautja, and cut through the hull rather than sending a message, or even just using an airlock.
Her instincts go absolutely haywire when the scanner that she's using to keep track of the Yautja loses track of them. Carefully removing her weapons, she places them on the floor then steps back and kneels on the floor. Suddenly there's a Praetorian in their cabin and it leaps past her to attack the young bloods. It takes all of her experience to stay kneeling on the floor rather than reaching for her weapons. Something that pays off when the young bloods are all disarmed, quite literally. She watches open mouthed as it opens one of the compartments and takes out a medical pack. It uses that medical pack to cauterise the wounds it inflicted on the young bloods. Then, using its inner mouth, it plucks their tusks, and swallows them. Turning to her, it reaches up to another compartment and pulls out a facemask rated for hard vacuum, and places it on her face. Whatever is going on, this is far too abnormal for any sort of xenomorph hive. It's far too small to have a Praetorian for a start, and then there's the missing Yautja. Finally, there's the fact she's still alive. Even if she was armed, however it got onto the ship without setting off any of the alarms, it had her dead to rights and even if she'd still been armed, the first she'd have known about it, in a normal hive, is a tail through her chest. She flinches when she watches it operate the navigation computer as if it knows what it's doing. Finally, it grabs her by her dreads and scoops up her weapons before dragging her out of the ship. As the airlock closes behind them, the hunting craft pulls away and heads back to their clan ship. The sudden lack of a ship in the hole causing sudden decompression. Which her captor ignores with about as much effort as it took to kill 3 blooded hunters. Once she fell back to the floor, with a thump she could hear through her bones, they disappear and reappear in a cabin. Effortlessly lifting her off her feet she's held against the wall as it… let's go? She struggles and turns her head to either side, but cannot see what's holding her to the wall. At some sort of hidden signal, some of the Drones come in and coat her joints with resin, pinning her to the wall. When it leaves and comes back in carrying an egg, she resigns herself to a messy death. It turns and leaves slowly, taunting her with the fact she is no threat. As it reaches the door, between one step and the next it becomes a Yautja with a xenomorph tail and claws, and waves at her as the door closes.
As she starts swearing, she realises that the facemask was removed at some point during her restraint, and so she watches with mounting dread as the petals of the egg open.
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Draco runs, desperate to keep ahead of his hunters. It's not the first time, or even the 10th he's been through this. Intellectually he knows that they're trying to provoke magic out of him, after he had a bout of accidental magic when they tried to kill him the day he arrived. Honestly, he's not sure if he'd have rather died at this point. His wand's broken, the expensive expanded pouch he kept his books and spending money in is gone. And he's dressed in the same rags as the other humans here. Panting for breath, he checks around him to see if there's anywhere handy he can escape down, and runs between two boulders. When he doesn't produce magic, they hurt him until he does. Then they inject him with something that burns through his veins, though it also heals all the wounds they inflicted. Additionally, the other humans have made it clear, through gestures and body language, that he doesn't get any food unless he does his own share of helping around the village, shanty town, dump? Even if he's been hunted for half the day.
Not for the first time in the last few weeks, he curses the tutoring he received with a wand before school started. As it's common knowledge that regular wand usage reduces the occurrence of accidental magic. The sort of magic that he needs now. The most insulting part of this whole thing? He's been hunted by children. It's the adults that hurt him later, but this is just a game to the children.
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Bubona watches, with a look of mild disgust on her face, as Vesta and Murph are doing some painting. Vesta turns her painting around, to show it to Murph. Bubona knew enough about Murph now to know she wouldn't be able to see the picture.
"This is mummy, this is daddy, this is me, an this one is you."
Murph's claw follows Vesta's finger and Bubona can see the frustration in its body language. Drawing her wand, she prepares to disable it if it finally snaps. Instead, a young girl, no older than 10 or 11, takes its place. Her midnight black hair flows down her naked back and her tail flicks back and forward in irritation. Her hands are still clawed, but far more human.
"'Ee" she says pointing at the picture.
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Hermione reluctantly troops out with the others for their first flying lesson. Despite being part of the hive, she's still very much afraid of flying. Specifically, not having a solid floor beneath her feet. It's why she always uses the stairs at those shopping centres with glass elevators. She's also jealous of her year mates, as she hasn't been able to achieve an animagus form yet, being part of the hive means she can tell what Arry's motivation is. Why's Wayne looking at her strangely?
"Everyone, stand by a broom." Madam (don't call me Master) Hooch's bullhorn voice calls out over the Quidditch pitch, distracting Hermione from her thoughts. Quickly she scrambles to stand by a broom and watches attentively as their teacher comes to the front of the class.
"Everyone got a broom? Good. Make sure the broom is on the same side as your wand hand…" – There's a little shuffling as a couple of people change sides – "Good. Everyone, hold your wand hand out over the broom and say 'Up!'"
Hermione says "Up." and her broom barely twitches.
"You need to mean it, try again those of you who don't have your broom in hand."
"Up!" On the floor, her broom rolls over pathetically.
"For the moment, everyone that doesn't have a broom in their hands, just pick it up. Hold your arm straight out in front of you, with the bristles facing the floor, and the tip of the broomstick should be inline with your chin. If it isn't, change your grip until it is… Now bring your hand down to waist level, and the bristles should be just brushing the floor behind you. Lift your thumb and place it on top of the broom facing forward. Now step over the broom so that it is between your legs. Your second hand comes in to hold the broom behind your wand hand, the thumb also facing forward beside the palm of your wand hand."
While Madam Hooch goes around checking everyone's grip, Hermione looks down at her hands as the position feels unnatural and uncomfortable.
Startling Hermione, Madam Hooch says from beside her, "You need to loosen your grip. If you hold on as tight as that, you won't be able to control the broom properly. Muggleborn yes?" – Hermione nods – "Imagine it's a bicycle, and you were as rigid and tense as you are. Do you think you could steer or respond properly?"
She moves on before Hermione can reply, though she does try to relax her arms and hands.
Moving back to the front, Madam Hooch turns back to the class, "Good, now everyone kick off gently, and you should feel the cushioning charms activate. Well done, everyone. Your broom will go in the direction that you're leaning. If you want to go up, pull the broom towards you, and down push it away from you. I want you to all lean forward gently to start moving at a slow walk. Once you're moving gently pull the broom towards you until you're at around head height off the floor."
Hermione follows the instructions, and then freezes as she sees the floor fall away beneath her. She's up by the lower seats when she feels her Queen in her mind, forcing her panic away, and showing her how to return to the ground. Over the rest of the hour, with her Queens help, she gets more relaxed and comfortable with controlling the broom.