It was too late or too early, depending on how you looked at it, to go back to sleep, so Harry and Charlie put their boots back on and took their teas outside. The rest of the camp was as awake, and Sam was levitating large skillets over to the fire in preparation for breakfast while Ahmed was setting plates on a long table under the trees.
"Come with me," Deon said when he saw them. "You shouldn't miss this."
Curious, they followed him out of the camp and climbed a small hill overlooking the village. On the other side of the hill, the sun was just rising on the horizon, casting light on the most amazing sight. Animals of every shape and size were coming to the river to drink where the water had accumulated in a wide basin, surrounded by trampled, muddy ground. Deon pointed them out to Harry and Charlie, naming them as they appeared.
It was an even mix between magical and non-magical. Giraffes bent their long necks and spread their feet wide to get to the water while beneath them plump and fluffy Diricawls twittered about. The multi-coloured birds vanished with a scared puff whenever another animal came too close, only to appear a few feet farther up or down the river. Green Clabberts, that looked like a cross between monkeys and frogs, drank and splashed in the water, using serenely floating crocodile bodies as stepping stones.
As soon as one group of animals had taken their fill, they would depart and be replaced by another. Elands and gnu's drank next to a pride of lions, and Harry wondered out loud how it was possible that they weren't eaten. One of the lions let out a roar and some elands raised their heads to stare before huffing and turning back to the business of drinking.
"Why aren't they afraid?"
"See their round bellies?" Deon pointed at the pride. "The lions have eaten during the night, so there's nothing to fear."
A family of three Erumpents wandered past their small hill. At first, Harry and Charlie thought they were rhinoceroses but Deon pointed out their long, rope-like tails, which were the only distinction from their non-magical cousin the Rhinoceros with its stubby tail that looked like a fat brush.
"I know those," Charlie said. "The explosive fluid in their horns goes for a pretty price in Romania. We use it in potions for our Dragons which suffer from gastritis. Nothing like an internal explosion to set a cranky dragon to rights."
"Their horns and tails are in equal demand," Deon said. "We always have to keep our eyes out for poachers. Their numbers are dwindling for that reason and because they only give birth to one calf at a time. Well, that and the male of the species are idiots, exploding each other during mating season."
"They explode?" Harry looked with new respect to where the Erumpent family was drinking water, the other animals having gotten out of their way. Even the crocodiles that lay on the bank slipped back into the water to drift down the river.
"They pierce each other with their horns," Charlie explained, "and inject the explosive fluid. Don't bother with a shield if you have one charging at you, just run. Or better yet, stick to someone who can side-along disapparate you."
Their tea had gone cold by now, and Charlie heated his up with a charm. That was one that Harry knew from school—you learned it even before you did the stinging hex because no cup of tea was safe in the drafty castle—and he did the same with his own. Ron would be so jealous if he knew that underage magic weren't monitored outside the country. Harry couldn't wait to write him and tell him everything. Down by the river, a herd of elephants—Harry counted twenty-six—trampled their way to the water, upsetting a flock of vivid lime-green Fwoopers who had just begun to sing.
Not everything was peaceful. Zebras and gemsbok were standing in a crush, kicking out wildly at each other, the gemsbok presenting their vicious horns. The grass eaters grazed along the way, and so did the carnivores. They watched a crocodile nab a young eland and drag it under the water in a twisting death grip.
"Wouldn't it be smarter if they drank at different times?" Harry asked, feeling sorry for the eland that just became breakfast, unable to escape the crocodile for the crush of bodies around it. The animals close to the action milled around and stood away from the water for a while before returning on tenterhooks, sniffing the air.
"They do," Deon said, settling down on a handy rock. "Peak drinking times are the hours around sunrise and sunset. Besides for that, every species have its own routine. It differs slightly from one area to another but you can usually take a clock to them unless some lions decide to stake their claim next to a favourite water spot for the day."
Deon went on to explain that large, morning drinking like this happened because of an overlap of habits. Prey species would predominantly drink during daylight hours when they were sure to find the carnivores either with full bellies or sleeping the night hunt off and were able to see danger clearly. Some, like Giraffes, were indiscriminate, drinking any time, which sometimes made them a nightly snack for the carnivores. Larger herbivores like elephants and rhinoceroses were safe enough to have nightly drinking habits. And night hunters such as Lions spent most of their days resting, becoming active towards sunset, and their first action was to drink.
The magical counterparts did not so much fear being eaten. They seemed to congregate around the waterholes when most of the non-magical ones did, partly, Deon thought, to show off or to have fun, like the Clabberts teasing the crocodiles.
Abdul was in the camp when the three of them returned, coming to visit Harry. He told them the little girl was doing well and already up and playing with her friends. From the village elders had also come to hear how the rest of the night had gone, and Harry took Abdul to their tent to change out of his pyjamas, leaving Charlie to tell their part.
"Oh, wow," Abdul said, digging into Harry's school trunk while Harry dressed. "You lot must look like proper wizards in this getup." He held Harry's school robe up for inspection. "And here we just have class under a tree."
"Really?" Harry paused, buttoning his shirt. "You're joking. Why do you have class under a tree?"
"Fresh air, my mum says, but our teacher really likes hands-on teaching. How better to learn insect-repellent charms while you're being sucked dry by the little buggers." He returned Harry's robe and picked up his potions textbook to leaf through it. "That, and our teacher is tired of repairing the schoolroom. Magic and thatch roofs don't go together too well." He grinned. "Especially when you're bored."
Harry laughed and told Abdul about the Weasley twins. A thatched-roof schoolroom would not survive Fred and George even a day. Then Abdul found the invisibility cloak.
Harry dug out a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and the two of them sat on his bed under the cloak, swapping stories until Charlie came and called them for breakfast.
"Breakfast is ready," Charlie said, sticking his head around the door. He paused and his eyes swept the room and then he looked directly at the spot where Harry sat. "You have an invisibility cloak!"
"You can see us?" Harry asked surprised and looked down to see if the cloak was broken but of course he could see himself for he was under the cloak, wasn't he. "No one ever saw me in Hogwarts," Harry said, removing the cloak from his head.
"I don't think you'll get away with that cloak so easily here," Charlie said, coming fully into their room. He reached out and rand the silky material appreciatively through is scarred fingers. "Most everyone in the camp can track animals by their spoor. You saw it last night."
"But this is your first time in Africa too."
"Working with dragons isn't that different. I could hear the two of you laughing and I can see the indentations your butts are making in the bed. Will you join us for breakfast, Abdul?" Charlie asked. "We've certainly enough to feed you and ten more."
"Sure, thank you." Abdul popped out from under the cloak and grinned. "I've eaten already but the only thing better than a good breakfast is a second breakfast. My mum says I have hollow bones."
"You should be a Weasley," Charlie said and herded them out.
On the way the three of them paused beside some shrubs, gaping at an extraordinary sight. An unfamiliar wizard—it could be none other than a wizard with the violet robe and matching pointy hat, the latter resting at his feet—stood behind a tree, running a comb through his hair. In front of him and behind him two mirrors hovered to give him a perfect view of his head. And what hair! Golden curls shone in the sunlight, each curl being twisted just so until the wizard was satisfied with his appearance. Then he pinched his cheeks until they blushed and picked up his hat, dusting it off before putting it back on his head at a rakish angle.
Abdul elbowed Harry in the side and pointed up at the branches overhead where a Clabbert was watching the wizard, the frog-like monkey staring transfixed at his golden hair. The pustule on the Clabbert's forehead was pulsing an alarming red which Harry had learned not an hour earlier meant danger.
The wizard saw the three of them before Harry could alert Charlie, and puffed out his chest. He smiled, flashing gleaming white teeth.
"Oh, I say!" he called out. "What a perfectly prodigious day for you!"
"It is?" Charlie asked, stepping up. "And why is that?"
"Why, my dear boy," the wizard said jovially, "because I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Adventurer Extraordinaire, am here to save you!"
"Save us from what, exactly?" Charlie asked mildly, and this time Harry nudged him to look up. He nodded when he saw the Clabbert whose pustule was still pulsing brightly and settled his hand on Harry's shoulder, the other reaching for his pocket where he kept his wand. "I wasn't aware we needed saving from anything," Charlie continued in the same tone.
"You wouldn't be, dear boy. It needs an expert such as myself to know the dangers of the land. Why don't you take me to your father? These things are best discussed among adults."
At this, Harry couldn't contain himself. What a prat. He started to tell him heatedly that Charlie was no child but stopped when Charlie squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.
"It's all right, Harry," Charlie said. "I'm sure Deon would love to meet Mr Lockhart."
"He called you a kid," Abdul said and by the looks of him, he thought as little of this wizard as Harry did.
Charlie snorted. "It's not the insult he thinks it is. Come on, breakfast waits." And for the wizard, as he started walking away, he said, "This way, Mr Lockhart. Have you had breakfast yet?"
"Of course. I dined on the finest Graphorn liver this very morning. A world-renowned adventurer such as myself never goes hungry!"
"There are no Graphorns in Africa," Abdul scoffed. "That's a lie!"
"There is when you Accio them all the way from the Americas," Lockhart said. He plucked his wand out and waved it about. "Why, this morning when I woke a bit peckish, I thought to myself it's been a while since I dined on the very best liver in the world. A strong Accio and voilà! Breakfast for kings!"
"An extraordinary strong Accio," Charlie said under his breath and Harry snickered. Out loud Charlie asked, "Quite the trick to Accio them through America. Aren't Graphorns native to Europe? How did you manage to cut through its hide? I hear it's even tougher than a dragon's."
"Exaggerated nonsense! I assure you, a simple cutting spell would suffice," Lockhart said and waved his wand at the nearest tree to demonstrate. "Diffindo!"
Leaves shook and the smallest piece of bark peeled off the tree's trunk, to flutter ever so slowly to the ground, but with it came the Clabbert who had at that moment been reaching out, hanging precariously at the very end of a branch, in an attempt to touch the tip of the wizard's violet hat. Tumbling unceremoniously from its perch it clutched at the first thing in range which was Lockhart's head.
What followed was pandemonium. Lockhart's shrill scream cut through the camp. His hat flew in one direction and his wand in another as he jumped about, waving his arms, shaking and bending backwards in a near hysterical attempt to dislodge his attacker. Trying to save himself, the poor Clabbert's long limbs wrapped around Lockhart's head and it screeched nearly as loud as the wizard, showing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.
In short moments the whole camp had gathered wands at the ready to see who was being attacked. They sheathed their wands and stayed to watch the spectacle. In the end, it was Sam that saved the wizard by plucking the Clabbert from his head when Lockhart's acrobatics brought him near enough. He lobbed the relieved mammal back into the tree.
In the silence that followed, Abdul returned Lockhart's hat to him.
Harry returned his wand. He thought it a kindness that no one laughed at the wizard though a few of them looked fit to bursting.
"Of course…" Lockhart said, righting his clothes—this time he didn't need to pinch his cheeks at all, they practically glowed as bright as the Clabbert's pustule, "…I would not cast a properly powered Diffindo while there're children about. It's simply too dangerous."
Charlie introduced Deon. "Deon, this is Mr Lockhart, Adventurer Extraordinaire. He's looking for you, I believe."
"Is that so?" Deon said. The magizoologist's tanned face gave Harry no clue what he had thought of the spectacle they had just watched. "Well then you've found me, Mr Lockhart. Would you like to join us for breakfast?"
"Perhaps some tea. I couldn't possibly eat another bite. Why, this very morning—"
Charlie, Harry and Abdul didn't stay to listen, and with the fuss over, the group dispersed back to their breakfasts.
"What's a Graphorn?" Harry asked when they were out of earshot. Care of Magical Creatures was an elective subject that they could choose in their third year and he had only finished his first. He had never felt so behind. Abdul had promised to lend him his textbooks on his next visit to the camp.
"Imagine if a bison bred with a wingless horned dragon and you'll be halfway there," Charlie said. "They're enormous, and they can kill trolls. That would make them about as dangerous as you and Ron, I think."
"We just knocked it out," Harry protested. "At least, Ron did. All I did was stick my wand up its nose."
He shuddered, remembering the lumpy grey troll boogers, not a memory you wanted when you were looking forward to breakfast. When he became aware of Abdul and the group of men surrounding them staring at him in shock, he blushed nearly as red as Lockhart who thankfully was still talking to Deon aside.
"Ron told me you jumped on the troll's back," Charlie continued, not letting it go. He was smiling at Harry, for some reason looking much like Harry imagined a proud parent would do. "That's not nothing."
"I'd certainly like to hear the story," Sam said. "But first get yourselves some food before it gets cold."
They piled their plates high with fluffy scrambled eggs and bacon and added healthy helpings of plantain porridge and coconut rice pancakes. Harry made a point to bring Charlie a mug of tea.
By that time Deon and Lockhart had joined them at the table, and Lockhart deftly filled himself a plate nearly as high as theirs. Thankfully Lockhart was talking loudly about his adventures, searching for the Black Nyanga, and how he had been forced to leave an incompetent group behind. His tales sounded wild and out there but they made everyone forget about the troll.
Lockhart was telling Deon that it was plain as day that they needed an expert leader if they were going to let wild animals run amok in their camp. How did they expect to catch the Black Nyanga if they cannot control a Clabbert? Of course, he meant an expert such as himself, and said that he just happened to be free.
"I'll guide you to the beast and will charge you a hundred galleons a week. A practical bargain for a wizard of my expertise." He held his mug out to Deon for a refill. "I feel I should warn you that I will run a tight ship, which sadly means the children will have to go. It's simply not safe to have any children in Africa."
"Wait until my mum hears," Abdul muttered. Their end of the table snickered.
"No thank you," Deon said. "One of those children happens to be my dragon expert." He looked over at Charlie and winked. "We are quite fine as is."
Harry watched Deon size up the wizard and then to his surprise Deon offered to let him be their guest instead. Next to Harry, Abdul nearly choked on a pancake.
"I suppose if you cannot afford me I might make an exception," Lockhart said magnanimously, taking his fourth helping from the fast depleting stack of pancakes. "I'll join your group if only to keep the children safe."
"You're really going to let that idiot stay?" Charlie asked when a tracker had led Lockhart away to pitch a tent for him.
"The Clabbert's pustule flashed red," Harry reminded them. Didn't they think it suspicious that last night there was an animagus and this morning a strange wizard appeared? "Is it safe to have him stay with us?"
"There is such a thing as danger through incompetence," Deon said. "Mr Lockhart's reputation has preceded him, Harry. I know of some wizards who were misled by his 'expertise' and last I heard he had been lost a few miles from here. That was a couple of days ago and we had been told to be on the lookout for him. He must have been wandering about on his own all this time."
Sam nodded. "He's more of a bumbling nitwit than anything else, I believe. Anyway, there are enough of us here to contain him if need be. We can't in good conscience chase him off; he'll not survive the jungle on his own."
"We could ask the village to take him in," Harry said. It was mostly for Charlie's sake, but he didn't feel half as gracious as the two men.
"Hey!" Abdul protested. "I thought we were friends!"