A Sirius Situation
Chapter 9
Hermione and her Allies
Hermione and her Research
Author: Jelsemium
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, JK Rowling does
Uncle Badger sniggered. Then he became more serious. "So, this hostile spirit of yours is looking a lot like a gremlin," he said. "Nasty bug… blighters. Came in from the Continent after that fracas with You-Know-Who."
Hermione was surprised. "I thought they came in around the nineteen forties, after the war the Muggles call World War II," she said. "I didn't know Vold…"
"DON'T SAY THAT NAME!" snapped Uncle Badger. "You don't want to attract his attention, do you?" He sighed. "Wait, you're friends with the Boy-Who-Lived. You probably aren't scared of saying the name of He Who Must Not Be Named."
Hermione blinked. "Wait, I'm confused. If you didn't mean… Well, the Dark Lord whom Harry defeated when he was a baby… Well, actually Harry's defeated him several times now. Erm, ah, I'm afraid that I don't know which You-Know-Who we're talking about."
Uncle Badger frowned. "Oh, sorry, I meant the You-Know-Who before the current You-Know-Who… Ah, Circe's pigs!" he barked and threw his hands up. "You do have a point, my dandelion. All these ding-dang Dark Lords get confusing when you don't call them by name." He sighed. "The one Little Albie Dumbledore defeated, back in the forties."
"Little? Ah, right. As I thought, gremlins immigrated into England around the time of Muggle's World War II," Hermione said. Then she pulled on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Hitler was quite a believer in the supernatural. I wonder if he and Grindelwald…"
"DON'T SAY THAT NAME NEITHER!"
"Oh, for pity's sake, the wizard's been safely dead for half a century now!" Hermione said impatiently.
He ran his hands through what was left of his hair. "Gryffindors!" muttered Uncle Badger. "What makes you so sure he's dead? Never heard that Dumbledore killed him, only defeated him."
Hermione opened her mouth, and then shut it. She was embarrassed to admit that she hadn't studied all the details of this important wizarding battle. She really didn't like reading about violence.
"And even if he's dead, that don't mean he's safe! Some wizards get even more dangerous after they've been dead awhile," Uncle Badger went on. "Hasn't your reading included things like Revenants?"
Considering that she lived in a haunted castle for ten months of the year and that she was here about a malicious spirit, she really didn't have room to argue about people coming back from the dead. "Right, then, shall we stick to the topic?"
Uncle Badger took a deep breath. "Right, good, then," he stopped, looked around the shop. "What were we talking about?"
"Gremlins," Hermione reminded him. "Any suggestions?"
"Ah, yes, right," Uncle Badger said, looking a bit flustered. "I have several items that might, I mean, that will contain a restless spirit of the gremlin kind, Miss Lion." He began to hunt around, muttering to himself. "You can trap said obstreperous spirit… I think… No, not that, maybe…"
He stuck his head into the wall. "No, don't think that'll do." He pulled his head out, ignoring the shedding puffskein that was now sitting on top of it. "Now where did I put that…?" He reached into a goldfish bowl, and his hand turned bright red. Then he pulled out something that had not been visible to Hermione through the glass. "Ah, yes," he was holding a brown book. "Here it is. Should have looked there first."
Hermione accepted the book, and then realized it was actually a wooden box carved to look like a book. She studied it from several angles and had to admit it was perfect. Nobody who knew her would ever question her carrying a book about.
"Holly and rowan," Uncle Badger said proudly. (Hermione was reminded of Ollivander the wand maker.) "It was made by the father of the current proprietor of Ollivander's Fine Wands." (Hermione was not surprised.) "It'll hold anything short of a Dementor," Uncle Badger added. "You might even be able to hold one of those, if you have a strong enough will."
He studied her carefully. "Now all you need is the ahem spirit to use it, my lioness."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the pun. "It doesn't take much courage to trap a gremlin," Hermione lectured. "According to Dr. Egon Spengler's Essences of Apparitions, Specters, and Phantoms, gremlins are not very powerful, nor are they very focused. They are easily distracted and even a first year should be able to fend off an attack." She smiled wryly. "I actually learned how to block a gremlin attack from Professor Quirrell."
"Knowing and doing are not the same thing," Uncle Badger said. "You can't use a containment charm, or even a shielding charm while you're away from Hogwarts, you're underage."
Hermione squinted at him. "I am aware of the restrictions on use of underage magic," she said. "I also know that using magic in self-defense is quite legal," she continued.
"You need to read more on the subject, my dandelion," Uncle Badger warned. "I recommend Laws That Were Passed Solely to Get You into Trouble, by Ima Frayed.
Hermione frowned in confusion. "But I'm positive that A Muggle's Guide to Wizarding Law by Peregrinus Mason said that underage wizards were permitted to use magic in case of exceptional needs, such as self-defense!"
Uncle Badger shook his head. "That's true enough, but, as you just pointed out, Gremlins aren't very powerful. The Ministry doesn't consider them dangerous enough to require the use of underage magic, except in extreme circumstances."
He picked up a magnifying glass from a shelf and began polishing it. "I remember one case, back in the fifties. One poor Muggle-born witch, Yvonne? Yvette? De Carlo, had problems with a gremlin. The Ministry ruled that she was not in any serious danger, and that using spells against it broke the statute of secrecy. They expelled her, and Obliviated her."
"Obliviated her!?" Hermione exclaimed.
"They said that she threatened to expose the wizarding world," Uncle Badger put the magnifying glass down. "It was an ugly business. If you use magic, you will have to prove beyond question that your life was in danger," he sighed. "Unfortunately, that would put you at the mercy of the political process. There is any number of wizards who would seize any chance to get a Muggle-born student expelled."
"Especially the Malfoys and their cronies," Hermione said. She paced around the room. "I can't use magic," she said. "However, I shouldn't need magic." She straightened up. "I can handle this on my own, without magic. I'm sure I can."
"Maybe I could…" Uncle Badger paused, and then shook his head. "I can't think of any reason for me to visit you at the Priory. At least, no reason that wouldn't look suspicious. I don't generally deliver books."
"And we can't have people wondering why you're interested in me," Hermione said. She looked at a jar of pickled something-or-other, and then moved away when she realized that it was looking back. "They might think something… improper… was going on."
Uncle Badger gave a snort. "I'm a bit old for that sort of thing, my flower."
"Then stop calling me 'your flower,'" Hermione suggested dryly.
Uncle Badger grinned at her, and then he grew serious. "I can let you use my fire to call the Weasleys, if you like, Hermione."
Hermione wouldn't have minded seeing the Weasleys at all. However, the thought of the twins, or Ron, or even Ginny in the same room as Bob and Geordie made her quail. There were limits to even a Gryffindor's courage. "Thanks, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle this on my own," she repeated.
"I'd feel better if you had a backup plan," Uncle Badger insisted. "Dealing with spirits can be a tricky business."
She chewed the inside of her cheek for a minute. "Good point,"
There was no point in taking foolish risks. Hermione had to admit that a visit from the Weasleys was the lesser of two dangers. Gremlins weren't very powerful, but anybody could get lucky. Even an evil spirit.
"This way," Uncle Badger said. He ushered her to the back of the shop, where flames were dancing merrily in a fireplace that looked alarmingly like a dragon's mouth.
"You have a Norwegian Ridgeback in your shop," Hermione observed, once she regained the use of her voice.
"Like it?" Uncle Badger asked.
"Hagrid would love it," Hermione said.
"By strange coincidence, that's exactly who helped me build it," Uncle Badger said in delight.
He held out a pewter snuffbox filled with Floo powder.
"Thanks," Hermione said. She gave the box an ironic look, and then took a pinch of powder.
"The Burrow," she shouted, sticking her head into the dragon's jaws.
The swooping sensation made her feel glad that her lunch was firmly settled. Then the aged walls and mismatched furniture of The Burrow came into sight and she forgot all about her motion sickness.
"Hello?" she bellowed into the room
"Hermione?" Molly Weasley Bustled into the kitchen. "Oh, my, what a pleasant surprise!" She bellowed out the open window. "Ron! Ginny! Hermione's in the fireplace!"
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said as Ron and Ginny stampeded into the room. "But I need some help from an adult wizard… or witch," she added hastily when she caught sight of Ginny's ironic expression.
"Of course, my dear," Mrs. Weasley said, startled.
"I thought getting into trouble was Harry's job," Ron said with a smirk.
"I'm not in trouble," Hermione said with great dignity. "I'm trying to avoid it. The building that my cousins bought has a Gremlin in it, and we need to get rid of it."
"A Gremlin?" Ginny snickered. "You need help with a gremlin? You don't even need to use magic! Just kick it a few times."
"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in disapproval.
"What?" Ginny asked.
"You should know better!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. "Gremlins are not garden gnomes! They can be very nasty when they get cornered."
"Just like any rat," Ron murmured. He brightened. "Hey, maybe Ginny and I could give you a hand?"
"Absolutely, not!" Mrs. Weasley said, aghast. "I won't have you running around…" she hesitated.
"Helga's Forge," Hermione supplied. "Well, the Muggles call it Hel's Forge. I'm assuming that wizards call it by its old name."
"It depends on the wizard," Mrs. Weasley said. "I know the village that you mean. There's a goodly wizarding population in the area." She blinked and her hand fluttered to her throat. "Oh, how silly of me, you must have discovered that for yourself, or you wouldn't have access to a wizarding fire."
"The owner of the bookshop is a wizard," Hermione said. "Jed Ione, Hufflepuff, class of '59."
"A bookshop," Ron said with a grin. "Trust you to find the only wizarding bookshop in a town full of Muggles."
Hermione rolled her eyes, even though she was glad to see Ron. "Honestly, Ron," she said. "You'd have found the shop first, though," she added. "It's got loads of Quidditch equipment."
"Wicked," Ron said. He turned to his mother. "Can I Floo over there and look around Helga's Forge?"
"Please?" Ginny added. "Can we at least go to the bookshop for a bit?" She decided to play the Harry card. "We can buy Harry's birthday present while we're there."
"Would Mr. Ione mind?" Mrs. Weasley asked worriedly. She hated to say 'no' when she knew her children had been feeling cooped up.
"I don't think so," Hermione asked.
She pulled her head out and asked.
"Excuse me," Uncle Badger said. He stuck his head into the fireplace to speak to Mrs. Weasley.
"They'd be no bother," he said. "I'll send them directly back."
"I'll buy them a book," Hermione promised, or maybe threatened, when she stuck her head back into the fire.
"Excellent, I'll Floo Charlie and tell him to meet you at the bookshop," Mrs. Weasley said.