Minerva and Hermione were racing along a ridge above the height of the forest's giant trees. While taking a look at a shelter in a secluded valley, used by the unicorn herd during the winter months, they had both sensed something odd in the wards that guarded the forest along the line of the mountains on its eastern edge.
A number of them had been deliberately destroyed, and in such a manner that their destruction had not been noticed by Minerva, Hermione or the Heart, effectively creating gaps in the wards around Hogwarts. Minerva was troubled - Hermione could see it in the great cat's eyes, and feel it below the great wolf's heart that pumped the blood through her laboring muscles.
The site of the first broken ward loomed in front of them, utterly indistinguishable from the surrounding forest. The wards were meant to encircle Hogwarts and the surrounding environs like a great, jeweled necklace, meant to alert the caretakers to any incursion, threatening or otherwise. But here, the necklace had been severed, and Hermione could feel the edges of the powerful spell searching for one another, knowing in some primal way, that it was meant to be one, unified whole.
Unsure of her ability to comfortably transform from wolf to witch and back again, Hermione stood guard while Minerva repaired the ancient spell that protected the castle. Working with the Heart's magic, the great store of power that both protected and was the treasure of the Heart of the Moor, was nothing like the fairly restrictive and restricted spells that were thought in schools. This was like the high level transfiguration spells and concepts that Hermione had been sneaking peeks at since she had first cracked the wards on the restricted section in her fifth year. It required a feeling for the power and an ability to manipulate it in its raw form on the fly. Thus, Minerva, in her cargo pants, combat boots and cozy wool jumper, was standing in the middle of a sun dappled patch of ancient forest, her arms moving in a fashion not unlike the tai chi that Hermione had watched practiced on the village green of her home town.
Also, it was magic in a way that had nothing to do with the magic that was being used. The sun illuminated Minerva, making her inky black hair and pale skin glow under its gentle touch. And the forest was alive around them, the smaller denizens of the woods apparently unconcerned by prehistoric predators or witches.
Hermione inhaled deeply, feeling her massive nostrils flare as air streamed through the sensitive scent organ. It was interesting how the importance of certain sense shifted when she shifted forms; scent and hearing were paramount when she walked the world as a fox or a wolf, and right now, she smelled something interesting. It was strong - the scent of decay, overlaid with some sweet putridity. She was amazed that Minerva hadn't caught it before she'd changed forms, but the problem of the wards had been at the forefront of both their minds. Now that she'd scented it, though, Hermione had to find its source. She'd smelled dead animals before, on her rambles in fox form, and this was not that.
Her nose lead her past where Minerva was working, and through the gap in the wards. Just past the magical barrier was a corpse - some sort of small animal, its form obscured by a mass of foul, leaking fungi that did not look at all natural.
"What have you found," Minerva asked, padding silently up next to her.
Hermione sneezed in answer; the scent of death and nasty mushrooms assaulting her sensitive nose. It doesn't smell like a normal dead thing, she said mind-to-mind.
The other witch crouched next to her, placing a hand on Hermione's sturdy shoulder for a bit of extra balance. Her want twitched in her free hand; Hermione recognized a charm used frequently by students and researchers to assist in identifying magical ingredients.
"It was a kneazle." Minerva announced in short order, her voice as grim as Hermione had ever heard it. "It was sacrificed."
And the fungus?
"It seems to be part of a spell - fed by the magic of the sacrifice and the body of the victim, wherein the decay is mirrored on an external object or spell. In this case, the wards were the target."
Hermione sat abruptly and cocked her head, startled.
Have you ever seen anything like this? This sort of magic - the combination of sacrifice and necromancy - had made for a spell that caused the hair of Hermione's ruff to prick up in suspicion and dislike. Sacrificing a magical creature was about as dark as it got, and necromancy wasn't even supposed to be possible.
Minerva's answer confirmed Hermione's fears. "I have not. It worries me that the subtle nature of this enchantment and its destruction made its effects on our wards invisible."
Hermione gave a rumble of aggrieved agreement.
"We will need the assistance of the centaurs to rectify this - it is a shame that I've not had the time to train you up properly."
Lifting her shoulders in a sort of canine shrug, Hermione indicated a certain amount of nonchalance and confidence.
I can learn by watching you - I was able to see what you were doing a few minutes ago. Though I'm sure I won't look nearly as graceful as you did, my dear, gorgeous Minnie.
"Oh hush, you silly wolf," growled Minerva playfully, pleased with the flirtation despite the seriousness of the situation. Then she turned, her wand whipping in the movements required to summon a patrons. She scratched behind Hermione's ears as they watched the small silver shape speed off through the forest towards the centaur encampment.