Hermione Down Under
Chapter 8
FROM THE ELDER DAYS
"Who are you?" Ron demanded.
The mystery woman stared at him, as if examining his soul and evaluating it.
"I'll tell you. You showed yourself to be a hero, this morning. But not here, I prefer to talk on my own territory."
"I'll get Hermione." He made a motion to move, but the woman stopped him.
"No. I said I'd tell YOU. Your lady friend has made all sorts of errors lately, and I don't think she's worthy."
Ron was tempted to protest the insulting judgement of Hermione, and insist that she be included. But the mystery woman might hold back and refuse to give the information, which might be important.
"Get a horse from the stable and we'll ride to my site," the woman said before Ron could verbalize a response.
"I've only started lessons today—"
"I'll hex it to follow your wishes."
Ron followed her to the large main door of the stables. Either the woman knew Alohamora or had an equivalent spell, because the door soon came open. Ron looked reluctantly at the horses in their stalls.
"I can't just take a horse without permission. They haven't assigned me a permanent one—"
"Conscientious of you," the woman said flatly; Ron couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or admiring. She pointed. "That mount was assigned to your lady friend, you can take it."
The woman saddled Hermione's horse, with quick motions that implied that she had long experience handling horses. Ron led it out of the stable and hoisted himself up on its back; he had learnt THAT much. The woman led her own horse out and mounted it quickly. "I've put the hex on your horse and you need only will it to do what you want. But you must respect its nature. Do not will it to exert itself in unnecessary galloping, or perform tricks."
After seeing Cherry's near-accident this morning, Ron wasn't inclined to do anything tricky. "Lead the way."
During the day Ron had been able to see for miles across the plains. But now at night he could scarcely see anything but the hindquarters of the horse in front of him. Perhaps the mystery lady wanted it that way, so that he could not later retrace his path afterward. She made several turns that seemed to have no reason except for to confuse his sense of direction.
"We're here," the woman said suddenly. "Get off your horse and let it graze. It won't wander away."
Ron obeyed. At first he saw nothing distinctive at this point of the field and had not been conscious of leaving one area and entering another. Yet there were subtle differences – the stars seemed to shine more brightly, crazy as that sounded. In the meantime the woman conjured up a flash of light, and a fire started burning on the ground. Ron sat before the fire, wondering what was going to happen. Definitely they weren't just going to sit around the campfire singing "Waltzing Matilda".
"Do you know why witches are different from Muggles?" the woman asked.
"Born that way."
"Yes, usually to witch parents. I mean, the ORIGINAL cause."
"No," admitted Ron, rather surprised that he had not pondered the question before. Hogwarts had been founded almost a thousand years before; Ollivander claimed his ancestors and predecessors had been in business since the time of Rome, and presumably witches and wizards were older than that..
"Millenia ago, a few Wizards came to this world. I don't mean wizards in the modern sense; they were a different order of being. They came to fight a Wizard who had turned evil and tried to set up an empire covering the world. When he was at last defeated, they departed. But one of them had lain with a mortal woman, and she bore twins."
"The descendants of the Wizard discovered that they had inherited some of his magical power. Eventually they started shunning ordinary men and married among themselves. Since they had developed healing spells, their children escaped most of the illnesses bedevilling humans, and multiplied. You are among their descendants – you are amused at something?"
"It's just that the Malfoys and others used to boast about their "pure blood". According to you, we STARTED as half-bloods."
"Much of the ancient knowledge has been lost among moderns. For example, goblins were once known as dwarves. They changed their name, but retained their love of gold, their preference for underground dwellings, and their skills as smiths."
Some of this was sounding oddly familiar, yet nothing to do with the History of Magic taught at Hogwarts. "What are you?" he asked bluntly.
"I am an Elf."
Ron snorted. "Don't be silly. Elves are only half human size, and very self-effacing."
"Degenerate modern elves are. I survive from the elder days when Elves were the equal or superior of humans. Though some characteristics have not changed."
She raised her hand pushed back the hair on the side of her head. The tips of her ear were pointed. So now Ron knew why she wore odd hair-dos and hats. He felt a little bad about his comment.
"Why do you stay hidden away?" he asked.
"Because I have my weaknesses."
"Oh?" Ron definitely did not expect her to describe them. He had just been through a war where showing a weakness made one vulnerable to an enemy. But he was wrong.
"I am vulnerable to the feelings of others, and especially to the feelings of wizards. If I am ignored, or if evil humans think of me, I am weakened. I am strengthened by the awareness of a good human. Have you ever heard the legend of a man wandering the night looking for an honest man?"
"Yeah. Do-Jones or something."
"Supposedly he is the ancient philosopher Diogenes. But I think he is a male of my species looking for somebody to believe in him."
"Somebody must have believed in you, because you strike me as awfully formidable."
"Thank you. Fifty years ago, an English scholar came across old records of the Elder Days. He organized them in the form of a long novel."
"Wait! " shouted Ron, suddenly realized why all this sounded vaguely familiar. "The Lord of the Rings! Hermione persuaded me to read it one summer, and it DID take all summer. The Elves were really powerful – Elrond and Arwen and Galadriel. Are you saying wizards are descendents of Gandalf?"
"Not Gandalf. Another wizard who was rather more susceptible to women. He didn't get mentioned in the novel. But let me get back to the subject. Most people considered the novel to be simply fantasy, But some wizards saw clues that it was true, and believed that Elves of the old type existed. That gave me power and I was able to live like a normal human for a while."
"But I feared that it would not last," the woman continued. "On the continent, Grindelwald was rising to power, and later Voldemort in England. They hated magical creatures outside of their own charmed circle. Even if they didn't catch me, their hatred would have diminished me if they ever figured out that I was real. So I decided to flee as far from Northern Europe as I could: here, in Australia."
"Why have you been stalking us?"
"I had my eyes out for other wizards coming from England. When you two showed up, I took your wands for clues. Are you aware that wands record the spells that they have cast?"
"Yeah. Priority in Cans, or something like that."
"Priori Incantatem. I had to return your lady friend's wand before I had a chance to test it, however. It would do none of us good if the local police started investigating magical activity, and you two needed it to get away. But I followed you for more clues."
"OK, let me get this straight. You need people to think positive thoughts about you. So you're telling me your story."
"Yes. I knew you were a hero when I heard how you saved that stupid little girl from falling off her horse."
"Um, thanks. But what about Hermione?"
"She is not worthy."
"WHAT? Hermione is one of the worthiest people I know!" Ron knew he had to keep his anger in check, but it didn't stop him from getting upset.
"She is guilty of cursing her parents, and she betrayed you by lying with another man."
Ron winced at the latter reminder. "She is trying her best to undo the first problem, and what happens between Harry, Hermione, and me is not your affair." He started wondering about how the elf knew about those things. Good hearing? Or maybe mind reading? But before Ron could ask, she spoke again.
"You are blinded by lust."
To a boy who had shared his bed with a girl the previous night without touching her, that accusation was particularly irritating.
"YOU are blinded by greed. You don't care whether people help their fellow men or not – Hermione helped liberate thousands from Voldemort – it's only whether they can help you by 'believing in you'." Ron rose to his feet, and made sure that the returned wand was in his pocket. "Well, you're not going to get help from me if you're going to exclude Hermione from your plans. I'm going."
He looked at his borrowed horse, wondering how to call it. You couldn't just wave your hand and chant "up!" as with brooms. But the spell giving Ron control over the horse was apparently still in effect, and it trotted directly to Ron. He hoisted himself up in the saddle.
"I forbid you to speak to anybody of this!" shouted the Elf.
A sharp pain stabbed through Ron's mind, but his sense of balance, learned in Quidditch, kept him in the saddle, and he rode quickly away.
TO BE CONTINUED
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Needless to say, I have no more rights to LORD OF THE RINGS than I do to HARRY POTTER. All the credit goes to Tolkien)