Breaking the window: Expedition to Hyperborea

Chapter 28: A ship is abandoned...

"When the harsh reality became impossible to deny, we were left with a difficult decision to make. To make a choice between life and death is, perhaps, hardest when you have time to think about it. If you're not sure what the right decision is, or if there actually is a right choice to make, one often falls in a pit of despair. This is where camaraderie helps. This is where being in it all together helps. For, in the end, the crew of the Kingfisher stood together as one. And as one, they faced the endless white wastes beyond the safety of our wooden haven."

- Bellatrix Black, Expedition to Hyperborea, published 2006

Most of the early morning was spent preparing for the long arduous walk through the white wastes. Both longboats had been lowered from the deck onto the snow and quickly loaded from stem to stern with most of the supplies. At least three quarters of the supplies were food packed in barrels and crates. The rest of the space was used to pack the survival tents, extra sets of clothing, warmth stones, cooking supplies, magical lanterns and medical supplies. The wasps, being cold-blooded, needed more than their parkas to survive the miles long trek. As such, their nest had been cut down from the mess hall and placed on one of the boats, nestled amid some of the warmth stones.

Nymphadora and Kirk worked to distribute the weight in the boats to keep them from tipping over one side and magically wrapped a tarp over the cargo to keep anything from falling off. Even so, the boats were so overloaded with stacked crates and barrels they floated mere centimetres off the ground. Seats had been attached to the side so people could take a rest during the walk without the expedition needing to stop, but it couldn't be more than two for each boat at the time.

"I suppose that bloody hole in the side of the ship was useful for once," muttered Nymphadora as she admired her handiwork. "Would have taken a lot more time if we'd have to haul all that shite up to the deck first."

"Agreed," said Kirk, checking his pocket watch. "We should make good time if we leave shortly."

The crew was gathered around as Nymphadora willed the longboats to follow her as she walked away from the ship. Though the boats were definitely overloaded, they did keep up the pace nicely. "Seems good, yeah."

Everyone was dressed in heavy parkas, gloves and boots, ready for the trip. Some were more clothed than most, the vampire Big-Mouth resembling a helmeted-Michelin man with ski-goggles, with every square millimetre of his skin safeguarded from the sun. Though Kirk had not allowed anyone to load any personal belongings onto the longboats for obvious reasons, he had allowed them to bring personal items along on themselves as long as they kept it within reason. As such, most of them were wearing bags, satchels or backpacks.

Tahki had her 50 litre travel backpack with her and had agreed to carry Bellatrix' books, notebooks and writing supplies. Hermione herself would be travelling light, bearing only the carry bag for her laptop and the camera around her neck. Tahki was also carrying some books from the library for her; she had actually spent a lot of time making a good selection from the ones she hadn't read yet. Having to choose only four was maddening, but at the same time she didn't want to overload Tahki either.

Though there was no wind and the sun was bearing down upon them, it was undeniably freezing cold. All the more reason her eyes almost popped out of her skull when she saw that the only precaution the Neo-Viking women had taken was to cut some cloaks out of an unused tarp. Underneath said cloaks were still their scalemail bikini's and still so much skin exposed to the elements. Though Sunniva assured her they'd be more than fine, just looking at them made Hermione shiver.

Those gathered around took one last look at the Kingfisher. Their home away from home, their shelter. Now, reduced to a corpse trapped in the eye slowly bleeding to death from a gaping wound. The ship towered over the ice, its masts the tallest structure for miles in a flat icy landscape. The bird figurehead ever looking down at the ice trapping it.

"Served on that ship for years," muttered Copperhead.

"Yeah," said Daelia. "That crow's nest was my home, you know?"

"I hope she makes it," said Engrim. "There's still a chance we're found in time before she gets crushed by the ice."

Hermione took out her camera and snapped a few pictures. She'd have to careful now that couldn't charge her laptop anymore, but she'd find a way to preserve the moment. She had to believe that their story would still be told, even though part of her already feared the worst.

Zipper, clad in his wasp parka, stopped by both Hermione and Bellatrix to nuzzle them both for good measure. Then, he flew over to the longboat to join the other three wasps in their nest to keep warm. His head popped up from under the tarp to give them both one last forlorn look before withdrawing into the nest. That'd be the last they'd be seeing of him for a while.

Nymphadora lay her hand on Tahki's shoulder. "Oi, Tiger Lily…"

Tahki blinked. "TIGER LILY?! That's even dumber than Pocahontas, you limy cunt! Why don't you go break your Britbong horse-teeth on a rock-hard scone or something?"

This would be were Nymphadora would usually throw out a comeback, but instead she just smiled at her cousin. "I love you, man."

No further words were said. Tahki rushed forward to embrace her and Bellatrix soon joined in. "Family, yeah?" Nymphadora chuckled. Hermione, Goneril and Sunniva stood by the side as the significant others. And, less than a few seconds later, the three-way hug turned into a six-way hug, to which one beanpole of a blonde Neo-Viking awkwardly participated in. Hermione was stood in the middle and simply enjoyed the moment. It was good to be among those she loved, especially in a situation such as this. She never wanted it to end, but as these things tended to, it ended all too prematurely for her tastes. "You're all dead sound," said Bellatrix before the hug broke apart. "Every single one of you."

And so, after one last look at the ship, the trek to the lost city and its unknowns began in earnest.

They walked in three groups, with the longboats in the middle. Tahki, her abilities clearly on display, led the forward group. Each group had one of the Neo-Vikings with an axe at the ready, while Daelia, Oswald and Eliam were tasked with keeping an eye out for polar bears or the unicorn. After barely a mile of walking, Hermione found out just how exhausting walking through these conditions were.

The paradox of traversing a frozen landscape was that she both was suffering from heat and cold. Her body was kept almost stiflingly warm by her clothing and her movement, while the exposed parts of her face felt as if it was assaulted by pinpricks. Not to mention that every tug of air was ice-cold; she felt as her lungs were freezing with every breath she took. Still, the only thing she could do was to set one foot in front of the other, across the thankfully mostly flat terrain. The snow cracked underneath her feet with every step, but worst thing were the snow goggles she was forced to wear.

Snow blindness was a real bad issue in this frozen wastes. The endless light reflected sunlight everywhere and there was no way to escape them when stood in the middle of it. Needless to say, sun-burnt cornea was a very bad and painful thing. So, she and the rest of the crew wore wooden goggles with narrow slits tightly around their faces. Plenty of light still came through those narrow slits and, while it protected her eyes, it also hampered her eyesight significantly. Though the Inuit were definitely on to something when they invented these, Hermione really had to get used to the narrow field of view to a point that she was starting to feel claustrophobic while standing in wide-open space. Not to mention she was feeling right jumpy.

She was panting and her limbs were standing to go heavy.

"Hey," sounded Bellatrix, not in the least tired. "Do you need to sit down for a moment? Two of the seats on the longboat are free."

"No…" muttered Hermione. "I… I can manage."

A concerned voice sounded. "Hermie, it doesn't look like you're managing."

"Thanks for the reminder that you're in far better shape than I am," muttered Hermione. Still, it wasn't half bad to get off her feet for a moment after hoisting herself up on the makeshift seat. On the other side of the longboat, she could hear Eleanor and Old Engrim chatting. She wasn't surprised that the two oldest crew members had more need for breaks, and was all the more embarrassed that she as someone in her early twenties already had trouble managing.

"Oi!" sounded near her, the voice of Beodul. "Whoever put those seats that fucking high is a scabrous racist! I only got these short stubby fucking legs!"

"Shouldn't that be heightist?" sounded Nymphadora, her voice playful. But Hermione didn't miss the tired panting. "And do you need a ladder so you can get off my back?"

Apparently, Nymphadora boosted up the goblin. There was some sound of wood scraping on wood. "Just so you know, you're still a cunt!" said Beodul.

"Hey, I already knew that, yeah?" said Nymphadora.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle a little, earning herself some ire from the goblin.

"What are you laughing about, scabrous bint?" asked Beodul.

"Just thinking about Haema," said Hermione. "She also has short legs and she hasn't been complaining at all!"

"Haema wouldn't complain if you'd set her on fire!" Beodul yelled out.

"Thankfully, you have enough bile for the both of you," chuckled Hermione, with Nymphadora joining in.

"You're both cunts!" snorted Beodul.

After a much deserved rest, Hermione gave up her seat to Irrena and both her feet met the ice gain. The snow-covered ice, thankfully, meaning it was never slippery. And so their trek continued. Around the five-mile mark, Hermione felt herself shivering from exhaustion, cursing herself for making fun of Bellatrix every time she did her morning exercises while she herself simply rolled to her side to lazy about in bed. If they'd make it out of this, she'd go out to exercise with Bellatrix every morning. Push-ups, broom-riding, running laps around the Catterborough Woodhouse ground, the whole nine yards as it were.

More concerning was the fact that the unicorn seemed to be following them. Eliam and Daelia had been keeping a close eye on it. In the far distance, it stood out as a black speck on the ice as it moved parallel with them. So far, it hadn't made a move to rush or even head towards them, but she was certain it was up to something. Of more immediate concern was a particularly large polar bear which had come to investigate, only to be driven off by Neo-Viking axes shooting bolts of lightning. Still, after that bit of adventure had passed, it was back to the endless drudgery of walking while the very elements were out for her blood.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" asked Chiputec as the large South-American man started walking next to her. "You don't look well if you don't mind me saying so."

"Hm, I'm managing," she said with a weak voice. A voice so weak it startled her. It was as if she was on autopilot, her legs moving of their own accord while her lungs screamed for warmth.

"Here," said Chiputec, offering her a flask.

Thinking it was water, Hermione downed a big gulp only to find herself gagging and coughing. "Oh, what is that?! That is foul!"

"Eh, sorry, should have warned you," chuckled the man. "It's a concoction of local herbs boiled into a broth and mixed with powder of ground up chupacabra bone. You should feel a lot more energized and warmer in a moment."

In fact, Hermione did start to feel a bit better. For one, she started to feel her legs again and drew breath far more easily. "Oh, you're a saint, Chiputec," said Hermione.

"Not a problem," said Chiputec. "Trust me, the Pampas plains can get really cold at night, especially when you're out there getting the chupacabra population under control before they decide muggle gauchos make for a better meal than goats."

"And yet you came to the Arctic?" asked Hermione as the two of them walked.

After taking back his flask, the large man smiled briefly. "Home is home, but I did promise myself to travel more before I'd get too old for it. First time I sign on as a sailor and this happens. Nice, hm?"

"I suppose it could have gone better," said Hermione.

"Eh, it is undeniably the experience of a lifetime," said Chiputec. "Positive attitude and all that."

Now more energized, Hermione picked up the pace once more. Bellatrix was walking next to her, reaching out a gloved hand to hold hers. Of course, the little lazy athlete who could spend entire mornings in bed at home was the only one besides the Neo-Viking women whom had never taken a single break. How on Earth did she do it?

"Shouldn't take a rest?" asked Hermione. "I mean, considering your condition…"

"I'm pregnant, not an invalid, Hermie," Bellatrix replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not even feeling the weight yet."

"Even so."

"You worry to much."

"You worry too little."

With the unforgiving and unmoving sun high up in the sky, it was hard to tell just how much time had passed. It was only a few moments later that the sky darkened somewhat, not from sunset but from clouds gathering above their heads, full with a payload of snow. The wind was starting to pick up slightly.

"Great!" exclaimed Chandra. "That's all we need!"

But Hermione didn't hear her. So grateful was she that she could finally take off those bloody goggles that she almost threw them away from her in disgust. Thankfully, better judgment prevailed and she pocketed them instead. In the distance, still many miles away, she could see steep rocks ahead. It was… a mountain belonging to an island of crags in the very middle of this frozen bay. But not like any mountain she had ever seen before. It was too tall and too steep to look natural.

Was she actually looking at the lost city? Was this an artificial construct of sorts?

As of yet, they were still too far away from whatever it was in the distance to make sure. And with the snow now starting come down, they'd have to rely on Tahki more than ever to lead them to where the needed to be. But not today, it seemed. Kirk ordered them to stop and set up camp for the night. Finding a series of rocky crags sticking up from the ice was fortuitous, as it would help shelter the tents from the wind and snow.

The two survival tents themselves were small from the outside and were quick to set up. However, as with any other wizarding tent, they were much larger on the inside. When Hermione first entered her assigned tent, she was amazing just how much room there was inside. They had pushed the limits of extension charms to the maximum with this one. One of the longboats had been shifted to move inside the tent and was let floating by the side. A firepit which had no fire but served as a cozy place to gather warmth stones with several seats surrounding it. There were tables to sit down at and a series of bunk beds for twelve people. Kirk even explained that the other tent had elaborate cooking facilities and bunk beds for eight. Even so, some people would have to share beds.

Hermione wasn't complaining. She was exhausted to the point of dropping and eagerly took a seat by the firepit. After taking off her boots, she was met with some nasty looking blisters on her feet and eagerly awaited her turn to be treated by doctor Big-Mouth. The vampire was quite happy to toss his heavy clothing and started to get to work.

It wasn't long before warm food and drinks were being brought over from the other tent. A freshly cooked meal was heaven-sent right now. Kirk explained that he had lifted the rations because everyone would need plenty of energy for the trek still to come tomorrow. Hermione was woman enough to admit that she ate like a pig that evening. Especially when it was a lovely and hearty beef stew.

And so, they gathered around the warmth stones while eating and most were lying down on beds to gather their strength for tomorrow already. Hermione and Bellatrix were sat together, Hermione leaning into her girl while she held her. Sunniva and Tahki were in a similar position, with two strong arms wrapped around the much smaller girl. Tahki looked extremely comfortable being held by Sunniva and their young love was obvious for all to see. Kirk sat staring into the fire while Big-Mouth was contemplative. The wasps had come out of their nest and Zipper had once again joined his friends, teleporting from head to head.

If their situation wasn't so dire, this would have been a much nicer experience.

"After handling feet for an hour, I could sure use a pint of blood," muttered the vampire. "At least there's some spare blood-bags in the crate for me."

"Trix?" asked Hermione, suppressing a yawn. God, she was so tired. "Shouldn't you take some extra stew?"

"Why?" asked Bellatrix.

"You're eating for two now, remember?"

Bellatrix blinked and groaned. "Hermie… why did you… Merlin!"

"What?" Hermione yawned, not fully realizing that she had just given the game away.

"I didn't want everybody to know yet!" Bellatrix muttered. "Especially not now."

When Hermione opened her eyes, the people around her looked at her with a mix of either shock or surprise. A big grin was spreading over Tahki's face. "No way," she giggled. "No fucking way! Hermione's gonna be a baby daddy! I can't wait to tell Nymph!"

"Congratulations," Sunniva nodded.

Kirk seemed less enthusiastic about this happy news as he stared directly at the both of them. "Considering you're both girls, this was no happy accident but planned. I would give a lecture on just how irresponsible that is during an Arctic voyage, but…" he motioned to the tent. "I'll just forgo that, considering the situation we're in. I also urge you not to keep this secret. The mood is very grim, if you've noticed. Some happy news that life always finds a way would do your crewmates some good."

Bellatrix seemed to consider that.

"In the meantime," he scribbled a note and snapped his fingers. Anchor came flying over and the captain told her to bring the note to Haema. "That was an order for another bowl of stew. Bellatrix, you will eat it. That's an order. I want you especially well fed and energized for the second leg of the journey."

Bellatrix looked rather embarrassed and Hermione reached out to touch her cheek. A silent apology for outing her which was accepted with a loving smile.

"And if you experience morning sickness, come see me," said Big-Mouth. "I have some treatments which will help."

Bellatrix nodded and, to Hermione, all the times Bellatrix had to run out of bed for the toilet the past weeks finally started to make sense. Hermione couldn't help but think of her love's words: how having a baby would make everything better. It was a silly thing, but at the same time Hermione remembered all the time she had balked at the thought of becoming a mother and would worry terribly whenever Bellatrix demanded to have a baby in her arms at least nine month after their wedding night. But now that it had finally happened? Hermione actually felt happy, despite everything. Maybe, just maybe, this would make things better for her.

"Is this seat taken?" asked Chandra. The buxom researcher rubbed her hands for good measure, eager to warm herself up by the warmth stones.

"Go right ahead," said Kirk, motioning her to sit down. The woman eagerly did so, making herself cozy by sitting a tad too close to the firepit.

"This is sort of a bonfire, isn't it?" said Tahki. "And it's technically evening, even if you can't tell the difference outside. So night at a campfire means scary stories to tell."

"Really?" the vampire doctor groaned.

"Yes really," said Tahki. "I'll go first. This is a story from the reservation. My family owns a lot of ranches there. Aside from all the magic in our family, our family fortune comes from breeding horses. But some of our ranches cater to tourists and the like. My uncle runs a typical dude ranch for city folks to experience cowboy life in Montana. So, one day, there was this program which sent a group of disadvantaged latino kids from East LA for their very first vacation ever. Typical inner-city kids, really. Never actually seen a horse or a forest outside of a movie. The boys were macho wanna-be gangbanger type and the first thing they did when they got off the bus was try to get inside my panties. If Nymph were here, she'd probably crack some stupid joke at my expense and I'd tell her I'm not that desperate. Anyway they didn't really get the hint. So the days pass and the kids start to get into the swing of things, but… well… there were wendigo in the forest."

Tahki sighed for a moment. "We couldn't exactly outright tell them about the wendigo, so bears were the cover story. Of course, the boys egg each other on to impress each other or the girls in the group and they sneak out at night to smoke weed in the forest. We sent out a search party the moment we found out some of the boys are missing. By then, it had only been an hour, but we all knew what we were going to find. One of the boys was found shivering on the floor trying to drag himself away from the forest with a slash across his chest and a piece of his arm missing. He was the lucky one. My gramps was the one who found the second boy. God, there wasn't enough left of him to feed the birds. There was blood and gore all over the glade. It turned out they were being being loud and boisterous and had attracted the attention of a little family of wendigo. They're vicious beyond belief. We know both magic and how to handle them, but those boys had tried to make a lot of noise to try to chase the wendigo off. Doesn't work that way. Only attracts more of them."

Tahki went silent for a moment. "I almost got myself killed that evening," snorted she while Sunniva was stroking her dark hair. "We heard a scream coming from nearby. We rushed to the cave as carefully as we could, but… I didn't watch my step. Long story short, I go tumbling down a hole and fall right into a wendigo den. More specifically, its larder, where it stores all is meat for the winter. I end up covered with rotting gore and blood and whatever that wendigo shat out. Worst thing is that the boy was there, screaming from the pile of rotting meat. The wendigo is right there. Sleeping. And blocking the way out. So I tell the boy to be quiet while I shuffle alongside the wall to get out and get help, but he wouldn't… And before you ask, no, he couldn't come with me because he… no longer had any legs. I shuffle alongside the wall, inch by inch. It was only a few feet, but it felt like miles. I knew that if I'd make one mistake, that massive wendigo would pounce on me and rip me to shreds. Miracle against miracle, I make it back to the search party. Gramps and my uncle subdue the wendigo and rescue the boy. I get a proper scolding for being careless and the two rescued boys made a full recovery, with some magical help to regrow lost limbs. The other boy was beyond saving. So… about every year some city slicker, be they white, latino or black or whatever, gets themselves killed because they just have to fuck with the wendigo."

"I promise you, Sæta," said Sunniva. "I will slay every wendigo which comes within a mile of you and your family. This is my solemn oath."

"Hah," chuckled Sunniva. "You I actually believe. Though there are some very simple tricks to dealing with wendigo and gramps'll teach you. They're about as dumb as a bag of hammers, so yeah only marginally less intelligent than Nymph, I'd say. Provided you don't tumble down in one of their lairs. Sunni, why don't you go next, hm?"

Hermione noticed that the arms hugging her had left her. The reason revealed itself when she opened her eyes to see Bellatrix eagerly scribbling down the story in a notebook. So, Hermione simply shifted and wrapped her arms around Bellatrix instead.

"Very well," said Sunniva in her accented voice. "The biggest danger on Iceland and, honestly, all lands belonging to Thule, are the draugr. They are the walking corpses of the drowned and dishonoured dead, returning to plague the living out of revenge and spite. Worst of the lot are the bloat-wraiths, the long-drowned dead. Their flesh is swollen and laden with water, yet the magic of their revenance keeps the flesh on the bones. Worse, their spongy flesh resists even the sharpest of blades."

"Are they like inferi?" asked Hermione. "Created by dark wizards for nefarious purposes?"

"No," Sunniva shook her head. "They are, as far as we can tell, a curse from the gods. No mortal hands were involved in their creation. They are near indestructible and will rise again in greater numbers. There was once a small village on the northern tip of Iceland. Though the people there were no warriors, they were honourable and provided our drengr with large, tasty fish. So when the village stopped sending tribute and runners with messages would not return, queen Ealdwynn ordered a drakkar to investigate. I led the voyage, along with my jomsvikingr Svari, Gudrun, Bjorn and Snorri. When we arrived, we found the village clouded in fog. We immediately knew what had happened and what would be waiting for us at the village."

Sunniva's face went grim. "We made landfall and with axes in hand, we crept along the abandoned houses and we heard the draugr. We heard them eat."

"Eat?" Tahki blinked. "Are you…"

"They had murdered the villagers and dragged them to the village square," said Sunniva. "Thin, emaciated walking corpses with glowing eyes, dozens of them. And a bloat-wraith among them, gnawing on the bloody bones and flesh of the poor villagers. Feasting."

"Shit," Tahki said.

"We rushed in, axes at the ready. We managed to take a few by surprise and split a head or two. But they are resilient and strong, their claws sharp. Snorri fell that day, overwhelmed by too many draugr who pushed him to the ground and sank their teeth in him in unison. He died valiantly with axe in hand and now sits at Odin's table in Valhalla. Svari almost followed him there, a bloat-wraith had crushed her windpipe with his bare hand. It was only Gudrun's quick thinking that saved her life."

"Tracheotomy," muttered the vampire doctor.

"Gudrun was not willing to let her bond-mate join Odin's table just yet," smiled Sunniva. "And I do not blame her. I personally split the head of the bloat-wraith leading the charge. They are like a pack of wolves. If the strongest one dies, the pack scatters. And even though the village was lost, it was honoured by a large funeral pile. But every true drengr knows that fog above the water can bring the greatest of dangers."

Kirk nodded. "Only ever saw a draugr from afar and I'm not inclined to get any closer. Alright, I'll go next. Back in the day I was a boatswain on the HMS Essex. It was a ship mostly making milkruns along the coasts of Europe, so trips were usually uneventful," started Kirk. "Anyway, we had just taken on board an Italian sailor. His actual name was Guido, believe it or not. Young man, broad-chested, boisterous. Type with a girl in every port, that sort of thing. We were halfway on a trip from Nice to Copenhagen and he'd already shagged almost every female member of the crew. So, one day when we were a few hours away from port in Copenhagen, someone sounds the alarm. We all rush to the deck to see what's going on and we hear giggling. Loud giggling."

"Giggling?" asked Hermione. "At sea?"

"Indeed. Surrounding the ship was a pod of mermaids," said Kirk. "Now, these aren't the kind of selkies you'd find in Scotland. No, no, no, these were tall, gorgeous women. Their upper halves, at least. They were playfully giggling, beckoning and swimming on their backs to show off their knockers. And what impressive sets of knockers they were. So the older crewmembers start warning the others to stay away and ignore them, but Guido won't listen to that, no, no, no. The stupid idiot takes off his shirt, shouts a cry of victory and jumps right overboard into the waiting arms of those lovely sea-maidens."

Kirk took a deep breath. "Before we fully realized what was going on, all the waves around the ship turned bright red. It had taken those lovely ladies less than ten seconds to strip all the flesh right off his bones. And while we stood there dumbfounded, one of the mermaids threw Guido's bloody skull right onto the deck. The ladies followed us to Copenhagen giggling mockingly all the way and, let me tell you, I never want to hear those kinds of giggles ever again."

"Piranha-mermaids," Tahki hissed. "Yikes."

"Scary stories, hm?" said Chandra. "I was unspeakable for a few years, and seen some things during my studies. There's a lot of conspiracy theories going around about the Ministry delving the depths of magic to gain power and, well, honestly most of them are right. There's a secret arms race going on between Ministries where they're constantly trying to do each other over for power, prestige or simply money."

"Hah, I knew it!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Antonin was right again!"

"Thing is," said Chandra. "The higher ups want the world laid down at their feet, but they want it done on a shoe-string budget. So corners that shouldn't be cut, get cut. Precautions that should be taken, get thrown out. And people that never should have gotten promoted, run departments they're not qualified to run. Honestly, it's a miracle we haven't blown up half of London yet. My story's not about that, but about a girl whom I worked with back in the day. She was a beginner, like me at the time, and was placed on assignments she simply wasn't experienced enough to handle. Because cut corners and shoe-string budgets. She was eager and willing, though, enthusiastic like any beginner. And that ended up being her downfall. She was put to work on analyzing unknown ancient artifacts. Thing is, a lot of ancient magical knowledge has been lost, especially from the early days of wizard-kind. Old magics used to be a lot more esoteric and powerful and we're still not sure while magic is less powerful today than it was ten thousand years ago. It's like magic had a massive burst and then just slowly plateaued to the stable level that it has become today, but I suppose that's a whole other topic. Anyway, this girl gets put to work on an orichalcum idol. Pure orichalcum."

"Orichalcum?" said Hermione. "The Ministry has that hidden in their vaults? Was it from the lost city?"

"I didn't make the connection at the time," said Chandra. "I was much younger and less experienced then. And I hadn't met Eleanor yet, of course. But I agree, with what I know now, there was only one place it could have come from. The girl became obsessed with the statue, working with it all day and night. She wouldn't leave to go home. She wanted to be close to it always. Said she could hear it whisper to her. None of us really noticed at first since long hours and obsession is pretty much par-de-course for unspeakables. But she started to… change. It was subtle at first. Getting more assertive, more… brazen. Then starting to show interest in a lot of different aspects of magic and magical society. We just… didn't see it until it was too late. The statue was some sort of conduit. The whispers she was hearing came from the other side of that conduit. Then one day she just disappears, along with the statue. Never a trace to be found. Poor girl made contact with something and looked too far into the abyss. It's always a risk in our line of work. But you know what the worst thing was? Nobody noticed and nobody really cared. To the higher ups, she was merely another statistic. Someone to be swiftly replaced with the next wide-eyed recruit coming straight out of Hogwarts to act as fodder to be thrown into jaws of the unknown. There was more time spent on paperwork for the missing statue than for the missing girl. That's one of the biggest reasons why I left the Ministry and started working freelance. I didn't want to become the next statistic."

"Harrowing," muttered Hermione. "And to think I once wanted to work for the Ministry more than anything."

"They're the biggest employer in the wizarding UK," said Bellatrix. "They actively make it harder for witches and wizards to work in the private sector. They can get away with so much as a result."

"I suppose I also have a story to tell," said Hermione. "Back in '97, me, Ron and Harry were on the run from the Death Eaters and were hiding out in Gloucestershire, in the Forest of Dean. Truth be told, we were constantly on the move, going back and forth from England to Wales. At one point, we ended up in the Forest of Exmoor in Somerset. I don't know if you've ever been, but it's this really dark and ancient thick wood where even during the day the light of a sun is hard to see through the tall trees about. Now, it was winter and was freezing cold, so we were huddled in our tent. It's then that we heard some noises just outside the tent."

"Lovely," said Kirk. "I hate forests. Give me the endless oceans instead."

"So, our first thought is that we've been discovered by snatchers," said Hermione. "We kill all the lights and have our wands at the ready. The full moon is out, so whatever approached the tent started casting a shadow. I start realizing it's far too big and broad to be a normal person. And then the voice. Oh, god that voice, how to describe. Think of it as… have you ever heard a vinyl record being played on a broken record player? Where the voice randomly slows and and speeds up? That's sort of how it sounded. It started addressing us. 'Open the tent flap and let me in. It's cold outside and I'm so hungry,' it said. Every instinct yelled at me to not zip open the tentflap and the boys agreed. We quickly realized it could not open the tent by itself, we had to do it for it. So it was only a matter of ignoring it, right? Well, not so simple. It tried everything it could to get us to open the tent. And told us things it shouldn't know. 'Ron', it said. 'That locket around your neck is driving you mad. Open the tent and I will rid you of it'. 'Harry, your mother loved you. Open the tent and I will show you just how much'. And, of course 'Hermione, why are you in that tent with those two boys? You don't even like boys. You like girls. You don't have to keep lying to yourself, Hermione. I'm a very pretty girl. Just let me in. Let me embrace you. Let me hold you like you want to be held. Held and kissed by a pretty girl.'. Of course, I was still in deep denial at the time, so it just confused the hell out of me."

"Heh," Bellatrix chuckled. "Whatever monster it was, it figured you out quicker than you yourself did."

"Give me a break, Trix," Hermione snorted. "I was eighteen years old and being hunted by Death Eaters. Me questioning my own sexuality was a distraction I really didn't need at the time. But it went on for hours on end, without pause. We didn't get a wink of sleep that night and I remember Ron just slinging the worst slurs he could think of to try to get the thing to go away. It only did at the break of dawn and even then it took us another hour to even dare to take a peek outside of the tent. Nothing there, of course, but we just packed up the tent and practically ran out of the Forest of Exmoor. And you couldn't pay me to go back there ever again. I've hit the books, of course, but I never quite found out what that creature could have been."

"I suppose I should go next," said Big-Mouth. The vampire paused a moment to sit up straight. "So, this story comes from a time past, last century when World War 1 broke out. I was a fledgling vampire at the time, barely a century old. Transylvania was part of the Austria-Hungarian Empire at the time. At first we didn't notice much of the war until around August of 1916. Romania turned against their masters and supported the Russian invaders. Fighting broke out all over the country. The voivode wasn't happy with this as she had familiar ties to the Hohenzollern, but she favoured stability above all things. She ordered all vampires in Transylvania to refrain from getting involved with any of the fighting on pain of Final Death."

"By voivode, you mean Ahzra the Unliving, right?" asked Chandra.

"Right you are," chuckled Big-Mouth. "Though there were a few young revolutionaries, it took only a few public beheadings in her courtyard to put everyone back in line. Though the voivode claimed neutrality to keep the peace, we all knew she was forwarding information to the central powers in Austria. In November of 1916, the Central Powers sent field Marshall August von Mackensen across the Danube to get the situation in Romania under control. The voivode sent me and another vampire named Sonya to keep track of enemy movements from a distance. But it's what we saw on one fateful night under a full moon during the battles on the Wallachian Plain that chilled even us unliving to the bone."

"What was it?" asked Tahki.

"The field marshall's army had werewolves. Weaponized werewolves," said Big-Mouth. "Imagine your regular rat-faced werewolves, only twice as tall and muscular. Armoured and helmeted to limit their sight. Tubes pumping green glowing liquid from a backpack into their twisted bodies. And, get this, they had muggle handlers. Not a wizard in sight. The creatures fell upon the Russian and Romanian forces with full abandon, tearing though their lines with consummate ease. Bullets, grenades or even shelling didn't even phase them. They destroyed whole battalions and the Romanians were forced to retreat. No idea where the Central Powers got their werewolves from, but though they of course denied this, the Austrian-Hungarian Ministry of Magic involvement was all but certain."

"Weaponized werewolves," muttered Bellatrix. "And muggles had access to these, you say?"

"Aye," said Big-Mouth. "When we reported back to the voivode, well, to say she was furious was an understatement. She completely broke ties with the Central Powers and effectively switched sides. Vampires were sent to assist Russian and Romanian forces. Vampire and werewolves. It was a slaughterfest on both sides."

"So that's the reason why werewolves are killed on sight in most of South-Eastern Europe?" asked Chandra. "Ancient grudges?"

"Grudges are rarely ancient for immortals," said Big-Mouth. "Romania, and Transylvania especially, is firmly established as vampire country where werewolves are not welcome. Though I am personally more ambivalent towards werewolves, the voivode's word is law. Especially in the old country."

Hermione yawned loudly, only to mutter an embarrassed apology afterwards. "I'm sorry. It's not you, it's just…"

"… the tiresome trek through the frozen wasteland," smirked Big-Mouth. "I understand."

"I suppose a story of a vampire dictatorship is a high note to close the evening with," said Kirk. A few moments later, everyone in the tent was getting ready for bed. Hermione herself was exhausted to the point of wanting nothing more than to drop herself onto the bunk and sleep for a week. While changing into her sleep gear behind a hastily set up dressing screen, she heard Big-Mouth grumble on the bunk bed assigned above hers. The vampire would not risk sleeping in a bed, especially in a tent. However, instead of his usual coffin, which was too heavy to carry on the lifeboat, he would have to settle for a man-sized fold-out cardboard box.

"This is embarrassing and intolerable," sounded the annoyed vampire as he lay himself down into the box and crossed his arms.

"Good night, doctor," smirked Kirk when he placed the oversized shoebox lid over the vampire.

Hermione smiled when she settled in with Bellatrix, spooning her girl from behind. Zipper had taken a position cuddling against Bellatrix' chest and Hermione had just enough reach to embrace them both. Bellatrix reached down to pull the covers over the three of them. Oh god, this felt so nice. Hermione closed her eyes, kissed the back of Bellatrix' neck and barely had enough energy to whisper an 'I love you' before she fell into merciful slumber.

Until Hermione woke up. Groggy and blinking her eyes, it was hard to tell what time it was with the light of day still shining through the canvas fabric of the test, but considering everyone was still sleeping it was probably still in the early hours.

Hermione immediately felt something was deeply wrong. Her body started to move, to the point that she withdrew her arms from around the sleeping Bellatrix. Her girlfriend murmured a protest in her sleep, but neither she nor Zipper woke from their slumber. She started to slip out of bed.

Thing is, she didn't want to do any of these things. It was as if her body moved of its own accord in total defiance of her own will. Whispers sounded on the edge of hearing. Whispers making stark demands of her.

She wanted to open her mouth, but couldn't speak. She wanted to scream and yell, command her body to respond to any of her commands. But nothing happened. She was like a passenger in her own body when she made a grab for her wand, flicked it and the clothes lain by the side of her bed appeared on her body.

Her body crept through the tent, making no noise. Hermione felt herself put on a coat, her snowboots, her woolly hat and those godawful snow-goggles. Screaming at herself to stop, Hermione quietly slipped outside of the tent and into the cold. She didn't know what felt worse: the harsh cold slamming against her body after stepping out of that nice warm tent or the whispers now shouting at her to comply and stop fighting it.

It was snowing something fierce, though there was thankfully no wind. She stepped forward, one foot in front of the other and headed into the frozen wastes. Due to the snow, she had no way to know in what direction and in less than a minute, she could no longer see what direction she had come from. Every inch of her soul was screaming at her body to just stop moving, but the whispers got even louder even more demanding that she would just give in.

Tired and defeated, to the point of wanting to do anything to silence the voices in her head, she finally gave in and gained some measure of control over her body… so long as she did what the voices wanted her to do. She was cursed. She knew she had been cursed, but this didn't seem like anything she had heard of the Imperius curse. She didn't feel compliant or serene; quite the opposite, in fact. Though it was possible for a strong willed individual to resist the curse and she was definitely strong-willed. Even in this state, her analytical mind ran through all manner of scenarios. Ironic, really.

Her body stopped on a hilly drift of snow. A gloved hand reached into her parka and she withdrew her necklace. The gem was glowing fiercely. A strong steady purple glow now that she was so close to the lost city. Her felt her body wave it in front of her, like an angle-fish trying to lure in prey.

She kept waving it in front of her until a dark figure loomed in the distance, barely visible through the snowfall. But from its size it was unmistakably the black unicorn. Unicornis Rex sauntered towards her, its head turning six piercing eyes toward her. It was… cautious? Was it cautious? So far it was yet to make any threatening move.

Curiously enough, Hermione herself was not afraid, not in the slightest. Considering she had embarrassingly pissed her herself when last it had stood so close to her, that was surprising in itself. Was this the effect of the curse?

Perhaps it was. Hermione remembered reading about ants in the amazon, infected with fungus and becoming passengers of their own body. They would be compelled to climb up towards the sky and sit there to spread the fungus further. Or a snail infected with a parasite which turned their eyestalks into oversized wriggling things resembling caterpillars to attract birds.

Was this the same thing?

Hermione felt she should be terrified, but she wasn't. At the same time, the unicorn should be ferociously violent towards her, and yet it wasn't. It just stood there staring at her with those blue glowing eyes, the purple of the gem mixing in.

And then, her body was her own again. The whispers stopped instantly. Her eyes blinked on her own accord again. And yet she dared not move, despite not being afraid of the unicorn.

Unicornis Rex snorted once, letting out a soft distorted whinny. It regarded her closely. Then, it turned its head to her side, the massive jagged horn sweeping through the snow-laden air. It growled. Viciously and loudly. And in a seemingly random direction.

Hermione dared to turn her head to look in the same direction, but could only see fog and snow in an endless white haze. "Is that the direction the camp in is?" muttered Hermione to herself.

The distorted unicorn turned its head towards her, six-eyes piercing into her two.

"There's something there you don't like," Hermione rubbed her chin with a gloved hand.

The unicorn let out a growl-like snort, to which Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Did… did you understand me? Was that… a response?"

Silence. Just a glare. The huge monster bucked through its legs, laying down on the snow. Instantly, Hermione knew what it wanted her to do.

It was still a tall mountain of muscle, so it was still an effort to actually climb onto its back. Thankfully, it didn't mind Hermione grasping its mane to hoist herself up. Once seated, the unicorn rose to its feet once more, moving and taking its first steps carefully to make sure Hermione wouldn't tumble off. Then it started walking with a slight trot while Hermione held on to its manes. The snow whipped against the both of them as the unicorn set a direction, which was definitely not towards the camp.

So, undoubtedly towards the lost city of Hyperborea. Hermione knew she should afraid. She knew she should be in a nice warm tent with her arms around Bellatrix right now. But the mystery of the necklace was simply too enticing. Her hunger for knowledge too strong. Her thirst for answers too overwhelming.

Hermione Granger was Hermione Granger, after all.