Chapitre 42: CH42 - Golden Apple
Serpensortia was a spell Edmund had begun practicing as soon as he received the chance. Being a parselmouth, no one else in the world could make better use of the magic than him. Although he was uninterested in keeping a snake as a pet like Voldemort, snakes could still be helpful to him in many ways.
Edmund pointed his wand into a tiny opening in a glass cage, and a lengthy, slender, cylindrical snake slithered its way out, dropping into the enclosure. The reptile looked around warily, hissing menacingly in Edmund's direction.
§I apologize for the rude nature of my call,§ Edmund bowed to the snake.
§Hmmm, it has been many years since I have come across one who can speak§ the black mamba flicked its tongue consideringly.
Edmund took it as a cue to continue. §I wished to practice calling different species to see if they would answer and heed my instructions.§
The black mamba hissed in short intervals repeatedly.
A laugh, Edmund realized.
§You are a speaker. Ask, and we shall answer. Always,§ it promised.
§Thank you, noble serpent,§ Edmund bowed again, sending the reptile back to where it had come from.
"That's one," he said to himself excitedly.
Edmund's purpose was to familiarize himself with a host of snakes that could help him in alternate scenarios. The black mamba, for example, was the deadliest non-magical snake on the planet, requiring an injection of only 1-2 drops of its venom to kill.
"Onto the next," he resolved.
One after another, snakes of varying shapes and properties were summoned and banished from the transparent cage.
A boomslang contained venom that could cause severe internal bleeding. Over 24 hours, the eyes, lungs, kidneys, heart, and brain would slowly hemorrhage, killing the victim. It was a torturous, painful death that Edmund hoped he would never have to give.
The boa constrictor was useful for its intimidation factor alone. Feeling the lungs shrink as the serpent wrapped around and choked the life out of someone would be a traumatizing experience for anyone.
Sidewinders were one of the fastest snakes on the planet and would make for ideal spies and scouts with their speed and camouflaged scales.
In his quest, Edmund left no stone unturned, eventually exhausting his supply of magic entirely. Even then, he was not satisfied.
While Serpensortia, on its own, could only summon non-magical snakes, what would the spell do when cast in parseltongue? It was an idea Voldemort had experimented with, yielding him one of the few parselmagic tricks he knew.
With a significant expenditure of magical reserves, magical snakes could indeed be called. Edmund had been strictly warned not to attempt the spell on his lonesome. Conjuring the wrong snake could lead to a disaster that he was ill-equipped to deal with.
Understanding his foul mood at the restriction, Voldemort had offered to teach and supervise him in the workings of the spell over the summer.
Edmund could hardly wait.
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"So you're known as the 'Expelliarmus kid' to the students at Hogwarts now, huh?" the speaker teased with a chuckle as she heard Edmund describe the past week's events.
Edmund huffed good-naturedly.
"I just haven't gotten enough of a challenge from any of them yet to make me consider using any other spells," he harrumphed snootily. "Besides, the fights I've had so far—if you can even call them that—have all been in front of teachers. There's only so far I can push without seeming like a bully or a 'dark' wizard. What do you want me to do? Start casting entrail-expelling curses in plain view?"
The speaker snickered. "Sounds like a whole bunch of excuses to me."
Edmund shook his head with a sigh. "Let them continue to underestimate me. Those silly enough to believe I'm some sort of one-trick pony will be the easiest to deal with. They'll see soon enough," he vowed.
The speaker nodded in approval, ruffling his hair playfully. "I have taught you well, my apprentice," she said sagely.
Edmund ducked out of her grasp, scowling at her in annoyance.
She looked at him innocently before becoming more serious. "Enough of that. What's the plan?"
The duo stood by the Hesperides tree Edmund had discovered in the forest almost three months ago. The magical tree remained unperturbed by their appearance, glowing just as brightly as ever.
Edmund, too, adopted her demeanour. "I need the apple for my next ritual," he said, repeating the information the two already knew. "But it's going to be tricky. In theory, I could kill the tree if I wanted. Either by starving it of food by transfiguring a dome around it or destroying the roots. It would be tedious but easily accomplishable."
"But?" the speaker asked. "What's the caveat?"
"It would negatively affect the vitality of the fruit," Edmund grimaced.
"Then you might as well not use it at all," she nodded understandingly. "Rituals are far too finicky to leave such a thing to chance."
"Yes. I need to pick the apple while the tree is at full strength," he explained.
"And you need to use the apple before it decays in any way either," the speaker deduced. "That's why you've already drawn the circle. That's why you're gathering the last ingredient right before you begin."
"Correct," Edmund confirmed.
"What's stopping you from using Accio or Wingardium Leviosa?" she questioned.
"Magic cast on the fruit negatively affects its own inner workings," he dismissed, confirming her suspicions.
"So there's no other choice. It'll be a challenge for you then," she commented.
"A good one," Edmund replied. "Let's see what I can do."
Edmund stretched his limbs, doing a few jumping jacks to get his heart pumping. The mental pull of the fruit was not meant to work on one such as him. The tree aimed to attract weak prey, easy to entrap and kill. However, the closer he got to it, the more dangerous its allure would become.
As he always did prior to battle, Edmund engaged his occlumency. His emotions immediately muted, leaving his mind blank. A bubblehead charm was cast around him, eliminating the possibility of the flesh-eating tree's spores being inhaled. The paralytic particles worked through skin contact as well, which was why Edmund was bundled up in a thick layer of disposable clothes from head to toe.
He was ready.
With his wand in hand, Edmund entered the Hesperides tree's range of attack.
Twenty feet away.
He sauntered leisurely, maintaining an unhurried pace. It did not take long for his ears to pick up the sound of soil shifting underground, the noise approaching his location rapidly. The dirt beneath his feet bulged upwards, elevating him slightly. A note of warning pierced his mind, which Edmund took as his signal. He slid abruptly to the right, sending a flurry of blue spores flying into the air with his movements. The thorny root of the tree shot out, flailing wildly for several seconds before sinking back down.
The vines had many strengths but equally as many weaknesses. Their constitution was poor, requiring them to remain submerged in the blood-soaked soil like humans needed oxygen to breathe. They could not stay out of the ground for long unless they pierced their target, feeding them with enough blood to remain above the surface. Hence, the thorns that missed their prey could act only as spears, coming out straight up before diving below once more.
Fifteen feet away.
Edmund ran forward in full sprint, suddenly deviating from his previous strides.
'One..., two..., three..., now!' he counted.
He ground to a halt sharply, and a vine struck precisely at the position he would have occupied had he continued running.
"Not bad," Edmund laughed quietly.
Ten feet away.
Trudging even more slowly than when he had first begun, Edmund converted his normal gait into an asymmetrical one. With his footfalls irregularly spaced in time, the tree could not anticipate where he would be.
And so, it forewent its predictive methods entirely.
Loud whooshing sounds began to emanate from underground, and Edmund's eyes widened in realization. The tree had given up on conserving its energy. Killing Edmund was no longer a task of hunting for it but about protecting itself.
Edmund hastily cast an overpowered featherweight charm on himself and a Duro to turn his shoes to stone right before seven thorny vines ruptured the ground. One came from directly below, while the other six formed a ring around him, preventing him from easily escaping.
That was fine. Edmund had no intention of getting out of the way anyways.
The root hit his foot but, rather than penetrating it, launched Edmund into the air. With him weighing as little as he did, Edmund was affected the same way as the soil that the root burrowed through when breaking the surface; he was simply flung upward.
Five feet away.
"Confligo!" he muttered at the apex of his flight, drifting aimlessly in the wind.
The petals of the blue flowers adorning the branches closed in unison, ready to shower the air with more paralytic spores. Edmund would take no chances of the spores hitting a gap in his clothing. As soon as the flowers began to open, a Ventus charm instantly blew them away from his direction.
Looking down, Edmund could see a cluster of spiky protrusions waiting for him to land, following him from below. They would be disappointed.
With a sharp stab, the branches of a mundane tree close to him were transfigured into a sailcloth, which Edmund held above his head. Another Ventus charm filled the fabric with air, keeping him adrift and sending him ever closer to the trunk of Hesperides' tree.
Gracefully, Edmund found purchase barely outside the outer edges of the branches at the base of the tree. The dirt in the area was tough, interspersed with the roots of the Hesperides tree solely responsible for keeping it anchored to the ground. The flesh-eating tree could not snake past its own layer of roots, which means it was without the aid of its primary defence mechanism.
However, it did not lose hope. In one last desperate bid to deter Edmund, it opened its wooden maw widely, revealing a gaping hole for a mouth. A growl of fury erupted from deep within it, resonating throughout its entire being.
Edmund recognized the gesture as what it was. False bravado.
"Sorry, buddy," Edmund whispered, plucking the golden apple from its location just lateral to the tree's central core.
The movements of the vines and branches stopped suddenly. The tree regularly fed most of its energy into the fruit responsible for attracting its prey, making it a pseudo-battery of magic. Without the supply of magic to the rest of the tree, it was no more magical than any other plant. The glowing blue flowers dimmed and rotted, falling off the branches rapidly as the spores on the ground disintegrated.
The previously lit-up area was plunged into complete darkness.
'Lumos,' Edmund incanted silently, having done the spell hundreds of times before.
He examined the golden apple in his hands greedily, resisting the urge to bite into it. The fruit would taste good. Delicious even. Undoubtedly the sweetest thing Edmund would have ever consumed in his life. However, it would provide him absolutely nothing other than its sublime flavour.
He had better things planned for it.
Edmund grinned. "Gotcha."
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone