Chapter 297 - 297
Potter was getting tired of trailing Hector. This blasted Badger was tearing about the forest like he'd been wound up!
What's more, Potter was starting to suspect himself of excessive paranoia, since Hector had, it seemed, simply gone off to fetch ingredients. Plenty of people knew he dabbled in enchanting objects and crafting artefacts, but very few knew just how genuinely impressive the things he could make actually were. A genius, and a bit mad — that's how the Weasley twins had described him, during Harry's stay at Sirius's over the summer.
So Hector had suddenly taken it into his head to go and fetch ingredients for some experiment right this minute — well, that happens. Hermione was exactly the same, when it came to books or knowledge — the moment the urge struck her, that was that, come hell or high water, she'd storm the library even in the dead of night.
Hearing Hector mention that he needed venom now, Harry quickly ran through his head what, or who, could actually be a source of venom in the Forbidden Forest. His rather thin knowledge, combined with the vivid memories of his second-year adventures, inevitably led him to one single answer — Acromantulas. But that was absolutely terrifying! Harry wouldn't go anywhere near their lair again, not for a thousand Galleons. He and Ron had only been saved last time by the sudden arrival of Mr Weasley's Ford Anglia; otherwise that would have been the end of their not-especially-heroic little tale.
Hector might need help, then, and who would come to his aid? Exactly — no one. Only Harry knew where Hector was headed. Which meant he had to keep following him, and step in to help if it came to that.
So that's what Harry did.
Before long, Hector reached the edge of the Acromantulas' territory. These arrogant, none-too-bright predatory creatures hardly bothered concealing their domain, so the long strands of webbing strung between the trees made it easy enough to tell exactly where you'd ended up, and what to expect. And so it proved.
A fairly large Acromantula leapt out at Hector from an ambush. Harry held his breath for a moment, wand already in hand, ready to deflect the attack, to help Hector, but… Hector didn't so much as twitch a finger — the spider simply seemed to burst apart, its remains, something like blood and general mush, blasted back the way it had come as if by a shockwave. Only the head remained, hanging in front of Hector.
He made a gesture with his hand, and a large drop of venom shot out from the chelicerae on the Acromantula's head, hovering in front of him. The instant that happened, the head too seemed to be swept away by a giant hammer blow.
It seemed Hector wasn't showing off many of his talents at all — that was the thought that crossed Harry's mind. He didn't even need his wand!
Hector studied the drop of venom in front of his face thoughtfully, drew his wand, and gave it a couple of flicks. A few seconds passed, the drop fell to the ground, and Hector shook his head, plainly disappointed.
"Too young. Not enough concentration," and he moved on, deeper into Acromantula territory.
Harry followed.
Another Acromantula attacked Hector, but with equally zero success — it met the exact same fate. Hector studied the trees and roots thoughtfully, webbing draped over them in places.
"All that training for nothing, was it?..." Harry caught the words.
Hector thrust his hands forward, plainly Transfiguring a sword into each one. The blades, in Harry's opinion, were curved in a rather odd way, and the moment the Transfiguration was complete, runes appeared along them, glowing softly blue, and at the very same instant the cutting edges of the swords lit up in that same soft blue glow.
"Now this'll be fun," Hector was plainly pleased about something.
Harry, for that matter, was rather pleased too, since the bluish glow of the blades in Hector's hands let him see all the details around him that much better, as the Forbidden Forest's usual strange glowing mist wasn't quite bright enough on its own.
Hector spun the swords sharply and, gripping them in some rather odd manner — though Harry couldn't swear such a grip was unusual, since he'd never actually seen a swordsman before, aside from the utterly deranged portrait of Sir Cadogan — pressed on deeper into the forest.
Yet another Acromantula leapt fearlessly out of an ambush. Harry was bracing to see what Hector would do, but… he blinked. He blinked, and the matter of the giant spider was already settled — the severed body was rapidly burning away in blue flame, and Hector, as though the flame weren't even real, simply walked straight through it, crushing the remains of the spider underfoot along the way as if it were made of sand. What on earth was that fire?!
A second Acromantula leapt out almost immediately after, and this time Harry managed to make out what happened. In a fraction of a second, Hector somehow shifted forward and sideways, spinning both blades in a lightning-fast motion until they blurred into nothing but dim blue ribbons. With one he sheared off the head and front legs, and with the other he sliced the Acromantula clean down its length. Aside from the head, the Acromantula's remains caught in that same low blue flame as before.
As Hector pressed on deeper into the forest, the number of Acromantulas grew faster and faster. They no longer came leaping out one at a time, but one after another, then in pairs, then three at once, nearly simultaneously. All of them met the same fate. Hector seemed to flow from spot to spot, moving from one Acromantula to the next, his blades slicing the air like ribbons, now speeding up, now curling into unknowable spirals and pirouettes, moving so fast that the "ribbons" seemed to stretch for a dozen metres. Harry knew, rationally, that this was merely the effect of the glowing blades moving quickly, but it looked incredible regardless.
Hector kept pressing deeper into the forest.
By now, nearly everything around was draped in webbing, and the Acromantulas came at him in an unbroken stream only to die for nothing. Alongside the blades, Hector was plainly using some sort of magic besides — one moment shifting fantastically fast across fifteen or so metres, the next shielding himself despite having no wand in hand, the next becoming intangible, though the blades kept slicing through the Acromantulas just as effectively, the creatures growing larger and larger by the moment. All Hector left in his wake were little heaps of ash from the instantly incinerated remains of the spiders.
Harry was so absorbed in this strange, mesmerising, relentless procession of Hector's through the forest, this horrifying yet simultaneously magnificent slaughter, that he didn't even notice how the spiders seemed to ignore him under the Cloak — he did have his doubts on that score, knowing the Cloak wasn't quite as flawless as he'd like.
Before long the carnage spread onto a stretch of forest thoroughly blanketed in webbing, and the stream of Acromantulas turned into something endless, washing in waves from every direction. Harry could no longer even make out Hector's silhouette — only the endless flashing streaks of the swords appearing here and there, and the blue flame from the burning Acromantulas never dying down for even a second, often catching on the webbing and burning gaping bald patches straight through the solid sheet of it in an instant.
At one point, a palpable, even visible wave of magic rippled out from Hector, and every Acromantula fled in every direction with a disgusting shriek. Within a couple of seconds, even the rapidly retreating rustle of their legs had died away completely.
"No point wasting more time, though that was fun, and I even got a decent stretch out of it," Hector rather demonstratively worked his shoulders, rolling his arms and letting the blades dissipate.
With a gesture he drew the head of the largest spider towards him and, using his wand, drew off some venom, which hung suspended in a little ball in the air. A couple of flicks, and a satisfied smile appeared on the boy's face.
"That'll do."
He pulled a glass vial out of his rucksack, poured the venom into it, and began looking around thoughtfully, as though searching for something.
While Hector worked out what he needed and where to go, Harry silently congratulated himself on his urge to go tailing him — where else would he ever have seen anything like this? Harry had never seen anything even remotely comparable, but ought that really to surprise him? Moody, with whom he'd managed to trade a couple of spells at Sirius's house, was just a paranoid old man. Yes, insanely experienced, but he'd shown nothing remotely spectacular, even if he had flattened young Potter within the first few seconds.
The moment Hector settled on something in his mind and set off in a direction known only to himself, but still deeper into the forest rather than back towards Hogwarts, Harry cast aside any lingering doubts and followed, trying not to lose sight of him.
After some ten minutes of brisk travel through the forest, Hector stopped in front of what Harry considered a rather strange wall of mist. Though it wasn't quite a wall, more like a veil, the mist within it swirling, flowing, shifting shape. And Harry understood clearly that if he hadn't been keeping his eyes fixed on Hector, he wouldn't have paid this wall any attention whatsoever — wouldn't even have approached it.
Hector walked slowly along the wall of mist, every so often making equally slow passes with his wand and his free hand.
"Interesting…" Harry heard him say.
A thin stream of similar mist emerged from Hector's wand, only greenish, faintly glowing. The moment it touched the wall of mist, it spread instantly across the whole visible expanse of it. Hector took a couple of steps back, gave his wand a sharp yet smooth flick — the sort Flitwick would call "with a flourish" — and the mist dissipated in a matter of seconds.
Wow! thought Harry, before he'd even registered what he was looking at.
A large clearing filled with tall grass was lit by a positively mad number of fireflies and simple points of light hovering above scattered flowers, and on a low but broad mound, right at its centre, grew several bright flowers. They seemed to be multicoloured, like a rainbow, though perhaps not. They gave off the occasional rare drop of dimly glowing nectar, which fell onto the mound and began spreading the mist.
"Even better than what I was looking for," Hector was plainly pleased, but in no hurry to step into the clearing, where wisps of mist could still be seen drifting between the grass stalks.
Hector kept walking round and round the edge of the clearing, its boundary with the rest of the forest strikingly obvious. Walking, but never crossing it. Pausing now and then to listen to something, or make a pass with his hand, or his wand.
"Hm… I see…" at that moment Hector turned his head to look directly at Potter. "Don't cross the boundary, Potter, or you'll ruin everything."
Harry was astonished — thoroughly astonished! Until now, only Dumbledore and Moody had ever managed to spot him under the Cloak, though each by different means. And now Granger, too. So Harry firmly resolved to always keep in mind the possibility of being spotted, even under the Cloak and whatever other charms he had on.
All of Harry's thoughts faded into the background the moment Hector quite literally began emanating some kind of greenish haze, streaming upward. It was somewhat like fire, only barely visible. In that state, Hector took his first step onto the clearing, then a second. Stepping around and past things visible only to himself, sweeping a hand past the fireflies as though guiding their flight aside, moving slowly closer and closer to the mound.
Having tried lately to be honest with himself, Harry admitted he understood none of this, had never seen anything like what he'd witnessed tonight, and — no point denying it — only now had he become genuinely interested in everything to do with magic. Not out of necessity, not for schoolwork, not for the sake of some adventure… What was happening? What kind of magic was this? What spells? For what purpose? Why this way, and not another? And how was it possible that Hector knew and could do so much, when, if Hermione was to be believed, he'd only "been alive," so to speak, for barely three years?!
While Harry sank into thoughts that were bound to lead him nowhere in particular, Hector reached the mound, climbed it, pulled a small empty vial from his rucksack, and held it beneath the rare glowing droplets of nectar from the multicoloured flowers.
For a long half hour Hector stood on one knee, utterly motionless, the dim green haze continuing to "burn" around him. Harry decided to shed the Cloak at last, seeing as Hector had already spotted him anyway. So within a dozen seconds Harry stood there visible, having swapped his Invisibility Cloak for an entirely ordinary school one.
Once the vial had filled completely with the flower's glowing nectar, Hector slowly sealed it, returned it to his rucksack, and, moving just as slowly and carefully as he had on the way to the mound, made his way back out, skirting obstacles invisible to Harry, avoiding the wisps of mist trailing through the tall grass, and guiding the fireflies aside with his hand.
Once clear of the clearing, Hector turned back towards it for a moment, gave a wave of his hand, and the mist that had concealed it before immediately closed the passage back over, quite literally removing the clearing from the world. With a satisfied, if barely perceptible, smile, Hector walked over to Potter.
"I see idleness has finally got the better of you completely, hasn't it, Harry?"
"What. Was. That?!"
"Easy now, easy, my inquisitive friend…"
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