Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of A Nundu for A Pet.
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Chapter 22 (The Bridge Between Worlds), Chapter 23 (A Nundu's Gift), Chapter 24 (A Grand Prank), Chapter 25 (First Year Ends), Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request), Chapter 31 (Abyssantica), Chapter 32 (The Half-Human Princess), and Chapter 33 (Echoes from the Deep) are already available for Patrons.
Three Weeks Later
Newt entered Dumbledore's office, his worn leather case swinging gently at his side. He barely had time to close the door before Alastor Moody's magical eye swiveled toward him.
"Scamander," Moody growled, "what exactly is Potter's 'cat'?"
"Alastor, my old friend," Newt smiled serenely, "you really should try chamomile tea. All this tension can't be good for your remaining natural parts."
Moody's scarred face twitched, though whether in annoyance or amusement was hard to tell.
Amelia Bones, sitting straight-backed in her chair, spoke up. "Mr. Scamander, my niece Susan is in the same year as Mr. Potter. I need to know – is that creature dangerous?"
"Ah, Amelia," Dumbledore interjected cheerfully, "perhaps we should all sit and have some refreshments first? I have a delightful new drink from the Mediterranean – essence of moonflowers mixed with honey water."
Newt settled into a comfortable armchair, accepting the offered glass. "Thank you, Albus. Now, regarding young Harry's companion..." He pulled out his notebook, flipping through pages of detailed observations. "Quite remarkable, really. I've conducted extensive tests over the past weeks. Her blood composition is extraordinary – shows remarkable adaptive properties I've never seen before. Her intelligence levels are off the charts; she solved complex magical puzzles that would challenge most adult wizards."
"That's not what we're asking, Scamander," Moody interrupted, both eyes fixed on Newt. "What is she?"
"She's a Shadow Cat," Newt replied, taking a sip of his drink.
Amelia and Moody exchanged confused looks.
"A what?" Amelia asked.
"Shadow Cat. Fascinating species, discovered about seven years ago in the mountain regions between Tibet and Nepal." Newt's eyes lit up with scholarly enthusiasm. "They're quite rare – only a handful have ever been documented. They possess remarkable abilities to blend with shadows, hence the name, and their magical resistance is truly extraordinary."
"Magical resistance?" Moody leaned forward.
"Oh yes," Newt continued, warming to his subject. "Their entire biological structure seems designed to repel magical effects. It's what made them so hard to discover – most detection spells simply slide right off them. That's likely how young Potter's companion was able to help him during the... unfortunate incident with Professor Quirrell. Shadow Cats are particularly resistant to dark magic."
"And you expect us to believe that Potter just happened to find one of these rare creatures?" Moody's magical eye spun suspiciously.
"Actually, that's exactly what makes it so fascinating," Newt replied, pulling out more notes. "Shadow Cats are known to choose their companions. There are documented cases of them appearing to magical children in various parts of Asia. Though this is the first recorded instance in Europe, which makes it particularly interesting from a research perspective."
Amelia turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, regardless of what species it is, how could you allow a first-year student to keep such a powerful magical creature in a school full of children?"
"My dear Amelia," Dumbledore smiled benignly, "I have personally observed Itisa's behavior since September."
"Besides," Newt added, "Shadow Cats are naturally peaceful creatures. They only become aggressive when protecting their chosen companion from direct threats. The incident with Professor Quirrell is actually a perfect example of their typical behavior pattern."
Moody's magical eye whirred. "And you've documented all this?"
"Of course!" Newt rifled through his case, producing several thick folders. "I have detailed observations, magical readings, behavioral analyses – everything properly documented and verified. I'd be happy to share copies with the Ministry."
"That won't be necessary," Dumbledore interjected smoothly. "I believe we can trust Newt's expertise in this matter. After all, he is our foremost authority on magical creatures."
"And you're certain she's safe?" Amelia pressed.
"As safe as any highly intelligent magical creature can be," Newt replied diplomatically. "Which is to say, she deserves respect and proper handling, but poses no threat to the student body. In fact, my research suggests she's quite protective of Harry's friends as well."
"Including Susan?" Amelia asked.
"Oh yes. I've observed her keeping watch during study sessions in the library. Quite motherly, actually." Newt smiled.
"What about her size-changing ability?" Moody demanded. "That's not normal for any cat."
"Ah, but that's one of the Shadow Cat's most fascinating features!" Newt exclaimed. "They can alter their size to better protect their chosen companion. It's actually quite similar to how some magical creatures in the Amazon adjust their form to match their environment. I have a fascinating theory about the magical evolution that led to this adaptation..."
"Perhaps we can save the theoretical discussion for another time," Dumbledore suggested gently, seeing Moody's patience wearing thin.
"Yes, quite right," Newt agreed. "The point is, everything about Itisa's behavior is consistent with documented Shadow Cat characteristics. She's actually providing an unprecedented opportunity for research into this rare species."
"That's enough, Newt," Dumbledore interrupted kindly. "I believe we've established the essential points. Itisa is a known, documented species, poses no threat to the students, and is, in fact, a valuable protection for young Harry."
Amelia sighed. "Very well. But I want regular updates on her behavior, especially around the students."
"I'd be delighted to provide them," Newt beamed. "I'm already maintaining detailed records for my research. Though I should mention I'll be taking Harry and Itisa on a research expedition this summer – with your approval, of course, Albus."
"Absolutely not," Moody started, but Dumbledore held up a hand.
"I've already approved this expedition," Dumbledore said firmly. "It will be an excellent educational opportunity for Harry, and having Newt's supervision will ensure both his and Itisa's safety."
"And where exactly are you planning to take them?" Amelia asked.
"Oh, just a brief tour of European magical creature habitats," Newt said casually. "Starting with France. There's a fascinating species of magical sea creature I've been wanting to study..."
"The boy attracts enough trouble here," Moody growled. "You want to drag him across Europe?"
"Come now, Alastor," Newt smiled. "Surely you of all people appreciate the value of practical experience? Besides, with a Shadow Cat's protection and my expertise, he'll be perfectly safe."
"That's what worries me," Moody muttered. "Your definition of 'safe' usually involves dragons."
"Only occasionally," Newt protested mildly.
"That's not as reassuring as you think it is, Scamander."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I believe we can trust Newt to keep Harry safe. After all, he's managed to survive studying far more dangerous creatures than a Shadow Cat."
"Indeed," Newt agreed, then quickly added, "Not that Shadow Cats are particularly dangerous, of course. Just... appropriately protective."
Amelia stood up. "Very well. But I expect regular reports, both about Itisa's behavior here at Hogwarts and during this summer expedition."
"Of course," Newt nodded. "I'll be happy to share all my research findings. The scientific community will be fascinated by this opportunity to study a Shadow Cat in various environments."
"Before we conclude," Amelia said, settling back in her chair, "I'd like to know more about why you're so keen on taking Potter to Europe, Newt. It seems rather unusual to take a first-year student on such an expedition."
Newt's eyes lit up with unmistakable pride. "Harry Potter has a gift, Amelia. The way he interacts with magical creatures... it's extraordinary. In all my years, I've never seen anything quite like it. He doesn't just observe them; he understands them. The boy might very well become an even better Magizoologist than I am."
Moody's magical eye stopped spinning for a moment – the closest he ever came to showing surprise – while Amelia's eyebrows shot up.
"Better than you?" Amelia asked incredulously. "Newt, you're considered the greatest Magizoologist in history."
"Precisely," Newt nodded enthusiastically. "And that's why I can recognize true talent when I see it. The way he communicates with magical creatures, his intuitive understanding of their needs and behaviors – it's remarkable."
"Susan has mentioned in her letters that Potter seems to have a way with creatures," Amelia admitted. "She says even the owls in the owlery come to him for treats, and apparently the giant squid waves its tentacles when he passes by the lake."
"Yes, well," Newt beamed, "that's exactly why this summer expedition would be so valuable for his education. The practical experience-"
"Speaking of education," Amelia interrupted, her expression turning serious, "I need to remind you, Albus, that Hogwarts rules specifically state that students are only permitted to bring safe, non-dangerous creatures as pets. Cats, toads, owls-"
Newt shifted slightly in his seat, thinking about Hedwig and her rather unique Storm Bird heritage, but wisely kept that observation to himself.
"A Shadow Cat, regardless of its peaceful nature, doesn't fall into that category," Amelia continued. "The Ministry might take issue with this... exception to the rules."
"I am well aware of the Ministry's position on magical creatures," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I will speak with Cornelius about this matter personally."
Moody let out a derisive snort. "Fudge will lose what little brain he has left if he hears Potter's got a Shadow Cat prowling around Hogwarts. Man nearly fainted when he saw a Bowtruckle in his garden last month."
"Yes, well," Newt interjected, "perhaps we could emphasize the research potential? The diplomatic implications of having discovered a new magical species on British soil? The Ministry could take credit for supporting groundbreaking magical creature research..."
"Trying to appeal to Fudge's vanity, Scamander?" Moody's magical eye swiveled towards him.
"I prefer to think of it as diplomatic problem-solving," Newt replied innocently. "Something I learned after that small incident with the Germany Iron Belly during the war..."
"Small incident?" Moody barked out a laugh. "You call stealing a dragon from Grindelwald's forces a 'small incident'?"
"Well, compared to the breeding pair of Griffins the following month..." Newt started, but Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Perhaps we should focus on the present situation," Dumbledore suggested. "I believe we can all agree that Itisa has proven herself to be a valuable addition to Hogwarts' protective measures, particularly given recent events."
"That's another thing," Amelia leaned forward. "The incident with Quirrell. You're certain the... Shadow Cat was instrumental in protecting Potter?"
"Absolutely," Newt confirmed. "Their magical resistance makes them particularly effective against dark magic. Without Itisa's intervention, the situation could have been much worse."
"And you're sure taking both Potter and this creature across Europe is wise?" Amelia pressed.
"My dear Amelia," Newt smiled, "I assure you, Harry will be safer with me and Itisa than he would be anywhere else. Besides, think of the educational value! The magical creatures we'll study, the practical experience he'll gain..."
"The international incidents you'll cause?" Moody suggested dryly.
"I have not caused an international incident in at least..." Newt paused, counting on his fingers, "...well, the point is, I've become much more diplomatic in my methods."
"That's not saying much, Scamander," Moody growled, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
"I'll take full responsibility for Harry's safety," Newt assured them. "And I'll send regular reports about both his progress and Itisa's behavior. Who knows? We might even make some groundbreaking discoveries about Shadow Cats along the way."
"Very well," Amelia sighed, standing up. "But Albus, do handle Fudge carefully on this matter. The last thing we need is the Ministry demanding an investigation into magical creatures at Hogwarts."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling. "I believe I can present the situation in a way that will appeal to Cornelius's... particular sensibilities."
As Amelia and Moody prepared to leave, Newt couldn't resist adding, "And if anyone from the Ministry would like to observe my research firsthand, they're welcome to join us in France. Though I should mention, the Hippocampus Royale can be a bit... enthusiastic with new people."
"Don't push your luck, Scamander," Moody warned, but there was definitely a hint of a smile beneath his scars as he clumped toward the door.
As Amelia and Moody left the office, with Moody's magical eye still fixed suspiciously on Newt until the door closed, Dumbledore turned to his old friend with an amused expression.
"Shadow Cats, Newt?"
"Well," Newt replied, his eyes twinkling, "it's not technically a lie. I'm sure somewhere in those mountains, there must be some kind of magical cat that lives in shadows. And if there isn't... well, I suppose I'll have to discover one. Can't have my research notes be inaccurate, can we?"
"Indeed not," Dumbledore agreed, offering him another glass of moonflower honey water. "Though I suspect Alastor isn't entirely convinced."
"Alastor isn't entirely convinced that his own shadow isn't plotting against him," Newt pointed out. "Besides, it's better than having him know the truth. Can you imagine his reaction if he knew what Itisa really is?"
"I believe the phrase 'military intervention' would be involved," Dumbledore mused.
"Precisely," Newt nodded. "And nobody wants that. Especially since Itisa is providing such wonderful research opportunities. Did you know she can actually regulate the magical frequency of her resistance? I've never seen anything like it. Well, except for that one time in Peru, but that was more of an accident involving a magical resonance crystal and a very surprised llama..."
"Perhaps we should save that story for another time," Dumbledore suggested, though his eyes were twinkling more than ever. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"
"Oh, yes, thank you. Harry promised to show me how Itisa responds to various magical frequencies. Did you know she can actually detect the magical signature of different spells? The implications for magical theory are extraordinary!"
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Harry sat at the Slytherin table, absentmindedly stroking Itisa who was curled in his lap. The Great Hall's atmosphere had changed subtly since the Quirrell incident. Several older Slytherins who had previously ignored him now gave him respectful nods, though Draco Malfoy's glare from further down the table remained as poisonous as ever.
A harsh cough drew his attention to Anna Hallow. Her brother Sebastian's forehead was creased with worry as she tried to muffle another cough with her sleeve.
"Are you feeling alright, Anna?" Harry asked, noting her complexion was even paler than usual, almost translucent in the morning light streaming through the high windows.
"I'm fine," she insisted, though her voice was slightly raspy. "Mr. Scamander said he knows some people who might be able to help me." She attempted a brave smile. "He thinks there might be some connection to ancient magical creatures that could help."
Sebastian placed a protective hand on his twin's shoulder. "You should be resting more."
"I'm not made of glass, Sebastian," Anna rolled her eyes, though the effect was somewhat undermined by another small cough.
Harry turned to Daphne, who was precisely cutting her breakfast sausages into equal pieces. "Should we try that thing after breakfast?"
Several heads turned their way immediately. Tracey Davis leaned forward eagerly. "What thing? Are you two planning something interesting?"
"Mind your own business," Daphne snapped, her ice-queen persona firmly in place. She fixed Harry with a cold stare that would have been intimidating if he hadn't learned to read the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth that meant she was amused. "After dinner would be better. I have some studying to do during lunch."
Blaise Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Should we be concerned about whatever you two are plotting?"
"The only thing you should be concerned about is your abysmal Potions grade, Zabini," Daphne replied smoothly.
"That was one failed assignment!" Blaise protested.
"One too many for a Slytherin," Theo Nott commented without looking up from his book.
The conversation was interrupted by the morning owl post. Harry noticed Hedwig swooping in with unusual grace, her white feathers seeming to shimmer slightly in the morning light. He quickly grabbed the letter she carried before anyone could notice the faint static charge crackling around her wing tips – a sign of her Storm Bird heritage that Newt had pointed out to him.
Later, in Charms class, Professor Flitwick was enthusiastically demonstrating the proper wand movement for year-long charms.
"The key is persistence in the final flick!" the diminutive professor squeaked, demonstrating with a flourish. "These charms require precision and patience. They're particularly useful for preserving magical effects that would normally wear off after a few hours or days."
Harry tried to focus on the lesson, but his mind kept wandering to his conversation with Newt. France! He could hardly believe it. Newt had told him about the magical creatures they might encounter – Hippocampi in the Mediterranean, unique subspecies of dragons in the Pyrenees, and even rumors of a colony of ancient magical beings in the forests near Beauxbatons, and even the Hippocampus Royale, or Royal Sea Horse.
"Mr. Potter?" Flitwick's voice brought him back to the present. "Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate the wand movement we just discussed?"
"Oh, um..." Harry started, but Daphne subtly moved her wand under the desk, showing him the correct motion.
"Like this, Professor?" Harry quickly copied the movement.
"Excellent! Five points to Slytherin," Flitwick beamed. "Though next time, Miss Greengrass might want to be less obvious in her assistance."
Daphne's cheeks colored slightly, but she maintained her dignified expression.
"Daydreaming about our after-dinner plans?" she whispered when Flitwick turned back to the blackboard.
"Actually, I was thinking about this summer," Harry whispered back. "Newt's taking me to France to study magical creatures."
Daphne's mask of indifference slipped for a moment, showing genuine interest. "Newt Scamander is personally taking you on an expedition?"
"Yeah, he says-"
"Mr. Potter, Miss Greengrass, while I appreciate your enthusiasm for discussion, perhaps we could focus on the lesson?" Flitwick interrupted with gentle amusement.
"Sorry, Professor," they chorused.
Pansy Parkinson leaned forward from behind them. "What's so special about France?" she whispered.
"Nothing that concerns you, Parkinson," Daphne replied icily.
"Everything concerns me," Pansy smirked. "Especially when it involves our celebrity classmate."
Harry felt Itisa shift slightly in his bag, and Pansy quickly leaned back, her smirk fading. The 'cat' had developed a reputation for appearing suddenly whenever someone bothered Harry or his friends.
"I heard Scamander's been running tests on your cat," Theo commented quietly from Harry's other side. "Father says the Ministry's quite interested in the results."
"Your father seems interested in a lot of things lately," Daphne observed with just a hint of edge in her voice.
Theo's expression remained carefully neutral. "Information is valuable."
"So is knowing when to mind one's own business," Daphne retorted.
"Children," Flitwick called out, "while I'm delighted to see such active discussion among houses, perhaps we could direct that energy toward mastering these charms? Now, watch carefully as I demonstrate the difference between a six-month and twelve-month duration..."
Harry tried to focus on the lesson, but his mind kept drifting to the summer ahead. Newt had mentioned something about a particular species of magical sea creature that might help with Anna's condition. He glanced at the pale girl, who was diligently taking notes despite her obvious fatigue.
"Stop worrying about my sister," Sebastian whispered, catching Harry's concerned look. "Focus on your own mysteries."
"Speaking of mysteries," Tracey whispered from behind them, "when are you going to tell us what you and Daphne are planning?"
"When hippogriffs dance ballet," Daphne replied without turning around.
"That could be arranged," Harry mused thoughtfully, thinking of some of Newt's stories.
Daphne shot him a warning look. "Don't even think about it, Potter."
"But imagine the possibilities-"
"No."
"Just a small demonstration-"
"Absolutely not."
"Mr. Potter, Miss Greengrass," Flitwick interrupted again, though his eyes were twinkling, "perhaps you'd both like to demonstrate the charm for the class?"
As they moved to the front of the room, Harry caught Draco muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "show-offs" to Crabbe and Goyle.
"Remember," Flitwick instructed, "precision in the final flick is crucial. Miss Greengrass, you first."
Daphne performed the charm perfectly, of course. When Harry's turn came, he managed a respectable attempt, though the magical shimmer wasn't quite as stable as Daphne's.
"Well done, both of you!" Flitwick praised. "Though Mr. Potter, do try to keep your mind on the present rather than what I assume are exciting summer plans?"
Harry blushed slightly. "Yes, Professor."
As they returned to their seats, Daphne whispered, "You really need to work on your poker face, Potter. The whole school will know about France by dinner at this rate."
"Would that be so bad?"
"It would if you want any peace for the rest of the term. Besides," she added with a slight smirk, "it might interfere with our... other plans."
"What other plans?" Tracey stage-whispered from behind them.
"None of your business, Davis," Daphne replied automatically.
"Everything is my business," Tracey protested.
"That's what I said," Pansy chimed in.
"Quiet, all of you," Sebastian hissed as Flitwick looked their way again.
Harry smiled to himself as he finally managed to focus on the lesson. Between mysterious plans with Daphne, summer adventures with Newt, and the constant intrigue of Slytherin house politics, life was certainly never boring. Itisa purred softly in his bag, as if agreeing with his thoughts.
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Harry and Daphne slipped into an empty classroom on the third floor, far from the usual student traffic. Itisa padded in silently behind them, taking her usual position as guard near the door.
"Did anyone follow us?" Daphne asked, her ice-blue eyes scanning the corridor before Harry closed the door.
"No one except Tracey trying to hide behind that suit of armor," Harry smirked. "But Itisa gave her a look, and she suddenly remembered she had homework."
"Your cat is surprisingly useful at deterring nosy people," Daphne remarked, giving Itisa an appraising look.
"She has her moments," Harry said innocently, exchanging a knowing look with his disguised Nundu companion.
Daphne pulled out an ancient-looking leather-bound book from her bag. The cover was worn but still showed intricate runic patterns that seemed to shift slightly in the torchlight. Gold lettering spelled out "The Secrets of Rune Arcs: Magic made Physical."
Harry's eyes widened. "That's... where did you get that? Those books are incredibly rare. Even the Hogwarts library doesn't have a copy."
"Only a stupid Slytherin tells their secrets, Potter," Daphne replied with a slight smirk. "Honestly, you should act more like a proper Slytherin sometimes."
"Oh right, silly me. Let me practice my sneer in the mirror for an hour like Malfoy does," Harry rolled his eyes. "Should I also start saying 'My father will hear about this' every five minutes?"
"Don't be obtuse," Daphne said, though her lips twitched slightly. "Being a Slytherin isn't about bullying people or throwing around your family name like certain blond prats we know."
"Could've fooled me, with all the shoving in the corridors and hex-throwing I've seen."
"That's just Draco being Draco," Daphne scoffed. "Haven't you noticed that even in Slytherin, most people barely tolerate him? They only put up with his antics because his father has deep pockets and deeper connections. The smart ones just play him like a fiddle."
"Like when Theo convinced him that ancient pure-bloods used to dye their hair platinum blonde as a sign of nobility?" Harry grinned.
"Exactly. Or when Blaise got him to believe that wearing his robes inside out on the third Wednesday of every month would enhance his magical core." Daphne allowed herself a small smile. "Being a Slytherin is about being clever, about knowing when to show your hand and when to keep your cards close."
"Like keeping mysterious books about Rune Arcs close?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Precisely." Daphne placed the book on a desk and carefully opened it. "Now, do you want to learn something interesting, or would you prefer to continue making sassy comments?"
"Can't I do both? I'm quite talented at multitasking."
"Potter..."
"Fine, fine. Show me what's so special about this book that we had to sneak around like we're planning to steal Dumbledore's sock collection."
Daphne gave him an exasperated look. "First of all, never mention the Headmaster's socks again. Second..." She turned to a specific page, revealing intricate diagrams of circular patterns. "Look at this. The fundamental principle of Rune Arcs isn't just about drawing power from runes – it's about making magic take physical form."
"With the right combinations, we could create solid constructs of pure magic. Shields, weapons, even temporary bridges or platforms."
"This one looks like it could create some sort of barrier."
"It does more than that," Daphne explained, her excitement returning. "It creates a field that can actually redirect spells. Imagine being able to send someone's hex right back at them without even using your wand. Similar to your talisman, but this one can fire back even stronger hexes, and not just simple ones."
"Now that would be useful for when Draco tries his midnight ambushes," Harry nodded. "Though Itisa usually handles those quite well."
The disguised Nundu made a sound that might have been a purr or might have been a laugh.
"Speaking of your cat," Daphne glanced at Itisa, "I've noticed something odd about her. She seems to understand everything we say."
"Most cats are pretty smart," Harry said quickly – perhaps too quickly.
Daphne gave him a calculating look. "Most cats don't make Draco Malfoy run away screaming just by looking at him."
"To be fair, Draco runs away screaming from a lot of things. Remember the incident with Neville's toad?"
"Don't change the subject, Potter. There's something special about your cat, isn't there?"
Harry met her gaze steadily. "There's something special about a lot of things in Hogwarts. Like mysterious books about Rune Arcs that suddenly appear in students' possession."
They stared at each other for a long moment before Daphne nodded slightly. "Touché. Your secrets are your own, as mine are mine."
"Look at us, being proper Slytherins," Harry grinned.
"You still have a lot to learn," Daphne replied, but her tone was lighter. "Now, about these Rune Arcs."
Harry stared intently at a diagram in the ancient book, his finger tracing a perfectly circular pattern filled with intricate symbols. "So a Rune Arc isn't just drawing runes in a circle – it's actually forcing magic to take physical form?"
"Exactly," Daphne explained, pointing to various parts of the diagram. "Look here – a normal runic circle channels or stores magic, but a Rune Arc transforms it. It's like... imagine taking raw magical energy and crystallizing it into something solid you can touch and see."
"But the precision required is insane," Harry said, examining the measurements listed beside the diagram. "This says the Foundation Circle needs sixteen points, each exactly twenty-two-point-five degrees apart. Why such specific numbers?"
Daphne turned to an earlier page filled with dense text. "Because magic follows mathematical laws, even if most wizards ignore them. When you're forcing magic to become physical, every fraction of a degree matters. Look at this warning – a mistake of just point-one degrees can cause the entire Arc to collapse."
"And that's what killed Morgana Le Fay?" Harry asked, his voice hushed.
"Yes. Her Arc collapsed while she was channeling power through it. The book says the magical backlash was so severe it... well, they never found enough to bury."
Harry sat back, running his hands through his hair. "And the power requirements – it's not like normal spells, is it? This pulls directly from our magical core?"
"That's what makes it so dangerous," Daphne nodded. "Normal spells use a small amount of our magic, channeled through our wands. But Rune Arcs tap directly into our magical core. It's like... imagine a water tap versus breaking open a dam. One wrong move and..."
"The power could burn us out completely," Harry finished. "Or worse. But these fusion points – explain those again? Where the runes merge?"
Daphne turned to a complex illustration showing several runes flowing together into new symbols. "This is the most advanced part. When drawn perfectly, multiple runes can fuse into completely new symbols with unique properties. Like this one – it combines Norse protection runes with Celtic binding runes to create something entirely new. But the fusion has to be perfect."
"And if it's not?"
"Magical backlash at best. At worst..." Daphne pointed to a grimly detailed passage. "Temporal displacement, permanent magical damage, death. Alexandru Dracul disappeared completely when his temporal Arc failed. They found his boots, still smoking, two hundred miles away."
Harry leaned forward, studying the materials list. "Phoenix ash ink, dragon blood, moonstone dust... and they all have to be pure and perfectly mixed. One contaminated ingredient and the whole thing fails?"
"Catastrophically," Daphne confirmed. "The materials channel the power. Impure ingredients would be like using cracked pipes to handle a flood – it explodes under pressure."
"And we need different materials for different effects," Harry noted, scanning the list. "Dragon blood for protection Arcs, phoenix ash for power channeling, moonstone for stability..."
"And that's just for basic Arcs," Daphne added. "More complex ones require even rarer materials. Some ingredients don't even exist anymore."
Harry traced one of the simpler patterns with his finger. "So even for a basic shield Arc, we'd need a perfect sixteen-point Foundation Circle, eight power channels drawn counter-clockwise at exact forty-five-degree angles, four fusion points activated in specific sequences..."
"All while maintaining perfectly controlled magical output," Daphne finished. "Too much power, it overloads. Too little, it collapses. And we'd have to hold that balance the entire time the Arc is active."
"No wonder only three people in history managed it," Harry said quietly. "This isn't just advanced magic – it's magic operating on completely different principles than what we're taught."
"It's magic in its purest form," Daphne agreed. "No wands, no prepared spells. Just raw magical energy being forced to obey mathematical and geometric laws."
Harry pulled out a blank parchment. "We need to start with the basics. Perfect circles, exact angles, understanding how the runes interact..."
"And studying magical energy flow patterns," Daphne added. "We need to understand exactly how magic moves through these channels before we even think about attempting anything practical."
They shared a serious look, both fully aware of the dangerous path they were considering. This wasn't like learning a new spell or practicing charms. This was an art that had claimed the lives of some of history's most powerful wizards.
In the corner, Itisa watched silently as the two students began their careful study of an almost forgotten branch of magic, one that promised great power – if it didn't kill them first.
Harry's eyes widened as he read the passage, his finger stopping abruptly on the yellowed page. "Daphne... look at this. Alexandru Dracul – he's the one who created the Fly Rune."
Daphne leaned closer, her eyes scanning the text. "What do you mean?"
"All broomsticks... every single flying broomstick ever made uses his Rune Arc. It's here, look – 'After three years of study and seventeen failed attempts that nearly killed him, Alexandru Dracul successfully created the first stable Fly Rune. The Rune Arc, when properly replicated, allows objects to defy gravity permanently and uses a very small part of our magical core to fly, this explains why giving a flying broomstick to a muggle wouldn't work because they don't have magical cores for the Fly Rune Arc to work.'"
"Let me see that," Daphne said, pulling the book closer. "'The breakthrough came when Dracul realized that the runic fusion needed to occur in three dimensions rather than two. By creating a helical pattern of Norse levitation runes combined with Egyptian solar symbols, he managed to create a self-sustaining magical field...'" She paused, tracing the intricate diagram. "The runes aren't just drawn on the surface – they're carved in a spiral pattern through the entire length of the broomstick."
Harry nodded eagerly. "And look at this part – 'Once successfully created, the Fly Rune could be replicated by skilled craftsmen without the dangers of the original Rune Arc creation. The pattern, when precisely copied, maintains its stability even without understanding the underlying magical principles.'"
"That's why no one's made any improvements," Daphne realized. "They can copy Dracul's work, but actually understanding how to modify or improve a Rune Arc..." She shivered slightly. "The book says he spent three years just working out the mathematical principles."
"And the failures..." Harry read further. "'Attempt number twelve resulted in the complete disintegration of both the broomstick and the workshop's ceiling. Attempt number fifteen caused a localized reversal of gravity that took three days to dispel. Attempt number sixteen...'" He winced. "Well, that explains why he needed a new workshop."
As the two read more about the Rune Arcs, Harry found something that confused him.
Harry frowned at the complex diagram before him, his fingers tracing the unusual pattern of intersecting lines. This Rune Arc was different from the others – instead of channeling or transforming magic, it seemed to... fold in on itself.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered, drawing Daphne's attention.
"What doesn't?"
"This one – the Space Rune Arc. Look at these patterns. The runes aren't forming channels or fusion points like the others. They're..." Harry paused, struggling to find the words. "It's like they're creating gaps between themselves."
Daphne leaned over to study the diagram. "You're right. The power flow isn't linear or even circular. It's... inverting?"
Harry's heart began to beat faster as he read further, his mind making connections that sent a chill down his spine. "'The Space Rune Arc, when properly constructed, creates a pocket of existence separate from normal space-time,'" he read aloud. "'This space exists parallel to our reality but remains completely independent, accessible only through the Arc itself.'"
His hands trembled slightly as he turned the page, memories of his dreams flooding back – a vast, strange place, simultaneously nowhere and everywhere, and her...Loretta...Merlin's sister who existed in that strange place... He pushed the thought away, focusing on the text.
"'The created space follows its own rules of physics and magic,'" he continued reading. "'Time within may flow differently than in our reality. The space can be as vast or as confined as the Arc's creator designs, limited only by their power and precision in crafting the runic structure.'"
"That's incredible," Daphne said, studying the measurements. "But the precision required... these angles aren't just exact, they're... negative? How can you draw a negative angle?"
Harry barely heard her, his mind racing. This explained so much – the strange quality of that place in his dreams, the way it seemed to exist outside of normal space and time. Someone, somewhere, had created a Space Rune Arc, and he was somehow connecting to one of these pocket dimensions in his sleep.
"Harry? Are you alright? You look pale."
He shook himself, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Just trying to understand the concept. It's not creating something from nothing – it's creating nothing itself, and then defining that nothing into a stable space."
"And the book doesn't say who managed this?" Daphne asked, flipping through the pages.
"No," Harry replied, grateful for the change of subject. "Just the theoretical framework and the runic patterns. Look at how these Sanskrit space-defining runes interact with Egyptian void symbols..."
They continued studying the diagrams, but Harry's mind kept drifting. Every detail matched what he experienced in those dreams – the strange quality of the space, the different flow of time, the sense of being both somewhere and nowhere.
"The power requirements must be enormous," Daphne was saying, pointing to a particularly complex calculation. "To maintain a stable pocket dimension..."
"Yeah," Harry agreed absently, his mind already working on a new problem. If he could understand this Arc, really understand it, maybe he could figure out how to help her. But the warnings on the page were clear – one mistake in creating a Space Rune Arc could cause very big problems.
The door creaked open, causing both Harry and Daphne to look up from their work. Newt stood in the doorway, his usual kind expression mixed with barely contained excitement.
"Harry, I was wondering if—" Newt stopped mid-sentence as he noticed Daphne. "Oh, I apologize. I didn't realize you were busy."
Daphne's warm study expression smoothly transformed into her usual cold mask. She gathered her materials with practiced efficiency. "It's fine, Mister Scamander. We were just finishing."
"Are you sure? I can come back later," Newt offered, shifting slightly.
"No need." Daphne turned to Harry, her voice carrying its public formality. "Don't be late next time, Potter." With smooth grace, she slipped her books into her bag and walked past Newt, her posture perfect, not a hint of the engaged student who had been enthusiastically studying moments before.
"What is that you want to show me, Mister Newt?" Harry asked teasingly after Daphne closed the door.
"Why spoil the surprise, Harry?" Newt said with a big smile, leading Harry outside.
If you want to Read 12 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'Drinor Patreon' in Google and Click the First Link
Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of A Nundu for A Pet.
If you want to Read 12 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'Drinor Patreon' in Google and Click the First Link
Chapter 23 (A Nundu's Gift), Chapter 24 (A Grand Prank), Chapter 25 (First Year Ends), Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request), Chapter 31 (Abyssantica), Chapter 32 (The Half-Human Princess), Chapter 33 (Echoes from the Deep), and Chapter 34 (Crystal's Song of Ice) are already available for Patrons.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the castle grounds as Harry followed Newt down the worn stone steps. The spring air carried a hint of warmth, though the breeze still held winter's lingering chill. Newt wore his usual blue coat, slightly faded but well-maintained, its pockets bulging with what Harry assumed were various tools and supplies for handling magical creatures.
Itisa perched on Harry's shoulder, her claws gentle through his black school robe. He'd loosened his Slytherin tie slightly, grateful to be outside.
"Have you ever ventured into the Forbidden Forest, Harry?" Newt asked, his boots leaving slight impressions in the damp grass as they walked.
Harry adjusted his glasses, which had started to slip down his nose. "No, actually. It's, well... forbidden." He glanced at the dark treeline in the distance, where ancient trees stood like silent sentinels.
Newt chuckled. His weathered face creased with amusement as he stepped over a particularly muddy patch. "Yes, technically it is. But it's also home to some very fascinating magical creatures you can encounter this close to the school. The forest holds more wonders than dangers, if you know where to look."
This caught Harry's attention. He quickened his pace slightly to walk alongside Newt, careful not to disturb Itisa. "What kind of creatures live there? Besides the obvious ones like unicorns?"
"Ah," Newt's eyes twinkled. "I think it's better if I show you rather than tell you. Some things need to be seen to be truly appreciated."
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, their footsteps accompanied by the rustling of new spring leaves and distant bird calls. Harry's school shoes were getting slightly muddy, but he didn't mind. The grounds were coming alive with early spring growth – tiny flowers pushed through the grass, and the Whomping Willow's branches showed the first hints of green buds.
"Tell me, Harry," Newt said as they approached the forest's edge, ducking under a low-hanging branch, "do you speak French?"
"Not really," Harry admitted, carefully stepping over a gnarled root. "I know how to say 'Je m'appelle Harry' and ask basic questions like 'Où est...?' and 'Comment allez-vous?' but that's about it."
Newt nodded, pushing aside a thorny branch with his worn leather glove. "I learned it years ago. Quite useful when dealing with magical creatures in different regions. Each country has its own unique species, you see."
"That reminds me," Harry said, remembering something he'd read. "What do you know about Royal Sea Horses? You said you wanted to show them to me."
Newt's face lit up with enthusiasm. His coat caught on a bramble, and he carefully disentangled it before responding. "Fascinating creatures, Royal Sea Horses. They have entire communities beneath the waves – complex social structures, their own form of magic. Highly intelligent, and remarkably loyal to those they consider friends."
He paused to check something on a tree trunk, running his fingers over the bark. "Their relationship with magical France is... complicated. They used to be close allies, but during the war against Grindelwald..." He trailed off, frowning slightly. "Well, something happened that damaged that trust. Now they maintain a neutral stance, neither helping nor hindering the magical community."
The forest grew denser as they walked deeper, the canopy above filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. The temperature dropped noticeably, and Harry was glad for his school robe. Itisa shifted on his shoulder.
"Watch your step here," Newt warned, pointing to a patch of unusual mushrooms glowing faintly in the shadows. His brown boots carefully skirted the fungi, leaving small impressions in the thick moss.
Harry noticed how Newt moved through the forest with practiced ease, his weathered coat blending with the natural colors around them. Despite its apparent shabbiness, the coat was clearly well-made, with numerous enchanted pockets and reinforced seams – the kind of garment that had seen years of practical use in the field.
The forest floor was a tapestry of fallen leaves, moss, and small plants Harry didn't recognize. His black school robes occasionally caught on thorns or branches, and he had to move more carefully than Newt, who seemed to instinctively know how to avoid such snags.
"Mister Newt," Harry began, ducking under a low branch, "how do you know where we're going? All these trees look the same to me."
Newt smiled, pausing to examine what looked like claw marks on a nearby tree. His hair, graying but still touched with reddish-brown, caught the filtered sunlight. "The forest has its own language, if you know how to read it. These marks, the way certain plants grow, the direction of the moss – they all tell a story."
They passed a clearing where pale flowers grew in a perfect circle. Newt steered them carefully around it, his boots leaving no marks in the delicate blooms. "Some places in the forest are best left undisturbed," he explained softly.
Itisa suddenly perked up on Harry's shoulder, her head turning toward something Harry couldn't see. The movement made his school tie shift slightly.
"Ah," Newt said, noticing Itisa's reaction. "We're getting close."
The path they followed – if it could be called a path – wound between ancient trees whose trunks were wider than Harry was tall. The air here felt different, charged with something Harry couldn't quite name. His shoes, despite being practical school ones, weren't really made for this terrain, and he found himself envying Newt's sturdy boots.
"Your familiar seems quite alert," Newt observed, glancing at Itisa. His coat rustled as he reached into one of its many pockets, pulling out what looked like a small silver instrument. "Magical creatures often sense things before we do."
Harry noticed how Itisa's spikes had grown a little out of her body, though not enough to hurt. Her usual calm demeanor seemed heightened, more focused. "Is whatever we're going to see dangerous?" he asked, not sounding afraid.
"Not dangerous, no," Newt assured him, checking the silver instrument before returning it to his pocket. "But certainly... impressive. Ah, here we are."
They stopped at the edge of another clearing, this one larger than the others they'd passed. Newt held up a hand, signaling Harry to wait. The afternoon light filtered through the canopy in strange patterns here, creating shifting shadows on the forest floor.
"Now," Newt said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, "what we're about to see requires absolute silence at first. They're rather shy creatures, but incredibly curious if given time to adjust to new presences."
Harry nodded, feeling the weight of Itisa on his shoulder and the cool forest air against his face. His school uniform, despite being slightly disheveled from the walk, still provided good warmth against the forest's chill.
"Watch there," he whispered. "And remember, no matter what you see, stay completely still until I signal otherwise."
Through the arch of ancient trees, a shimmer of silver light began to coalesce, like moonlight given form. At first, Harry thought it was a unicorn, but as the creature emerged from the shadows, his breath caught in his throat.
It was a dragon – but unlike any dragon Harry had ever seen or read about. No larger than a horse, its scales were translucent, catching and reflecting the filtered sunlight like living crystal. Its wings, partially folded against its sides, seemed to be made of morning mist, their edges dissolving and reforming with each gentle movement. The creature's head was elegantly shaped, with delicate horns that spiraled back like frozen ribbons of water.
But most striking were its eyes – they glowed with an inner light that shifted between pale blue and silver. As it moved fully into the clearing, its feet seemed to barely touch the ground, leaving small patches of frost that melted almost instantly in their wake.
Behind it, two more emerged, slightly smaller but no less magnificent. Their bodies seemed to ripple between solid and ethereal, as if they weren't quite fully in this world. Where normal dragons radiated heat and power, these creatures emanated a gentle cold.
Itisa remained perfectly still on Harry's shoulder, but he could feel her intense focus on the creatures.
One of them turned its head toward Harry and Newt, and for a moment, Harry felt as if he was looking into the heart of someone or something that had lived for a long time.
"Don't make any sudden movements," Newt whispered, his voice barely audible. "These are Moon Dragons. They're not typically aggressive, but they are territorial. Some wizards have even formed bonds strong enough to ride them."
Harry nodded slightly, keeping his movements minimal. The crystalline scales of the largest dragon caught the filtered light, creating dancing patterns on the forest floor. However, when its silver eyes fixed on Itisa, everything changed.
The dragon's elegant face contorted, baring teeth that gleamed like polished diamonds. A strange, ethereal substance began pooling in its mouth – something between liquid and light, glowing an intense arctic blue. The temperature around them dropped sharply.
Itisa's quiet growl vibrated through Harry's shoulder, her disguise flickering slightly as her eyes shifted to a dangerous crimson. Harry could feel her muscles tensing, ready to spring.
"Oh dear," Newt breathed, slowly reaching for something in his coat pocket.
But Harry had already made his decision. His eyes transformed, pupils elongating into vertical slits as he focused on the lead dragon. When he spoke, it came out in a soft, melodic hiss that seemed to ripple through the clearing.
*We mean no harm to your territory or your kind.*
The dragon's head snapped back slightly, the blue glow in its mouth dimming as surprise overtook aggression. Its wings, still partially translucent, folded closer to its body.
*You speak our tongue, young one?* The dragon's voice in Harry's mind was like wind through ice crystals. *How is this possible?*
Harry maintained steady eye contact, though he kept his posture non-threatening. *I can speak to many magical creatures. We're only passing through, under the guidance of my friend here.* He gestured slightly toward Newt, who was watching the exchange with barely contained fascination.
The dragon's gaze shifted back to Itisa, and its voice turned sharp as winter frost. *That one is not welcome here. She brings death in her breath, destruction in her wake. We know what her kind can do.*
*She's different,* Harry defended, feeling Itisa's tension through his shoulder. *She has never harmed anyone who didn't threaten us first.*
The two smaller dragons had moved closer to their leader, their crystalline scales chiming softly with each movement. The lead dragon's tail swept across the forest floor, leaving a trail of frost in its wake.
*You vouch for a Destroyer of Lands? Do you know what her kind has done to the ancient places of magic?*
*You speak as if all beings must follow their nature's darkest path,* Harry replied, his voice hardening with conviction. *As if choice means nothing. Yet here you are, a Moon Dragon speaking with a human instead of freezing me where I stand.*
The dragon's crystalline eyes narrowed. *We are creatures of wisdom and choice. The Nundu...*
*Eats her own cubs to gain their strength,* the dragon spat, frost forming around its muzzle. *They devour their young to grow more powerful. Even the darkest of dragons would not commit such an atrocity.*
Harry felt Itisa's pain through their bond – as if she felt shamed of what other Nundus have done to become even stronger. He placed a gentle hand on her head before facing the dragon.
*Itisa is different. She chose to protect rather than destroy. Just as you chose to speak with me rather than run away.*
The dragon's head reared back slightly, surprised by the sharp retort.
*You claim she defies her nature?* One of the smaller dragons asked, curiosity tempering its hostility.
*I claim she defines her own nature,* Harry corrected. *Just as I define mine. Just as you define yours. Or would you have me judge all dragons by the actions of Ironbellies during Grindelwald's war?*
A low rumble echoed through the clearing – not quite a growl, but not quite approval either.
*You speak boldly, Speaker,* the lead dragon said finally. *Perhaps too boldly. But your words carry truth's weight.* It turned its ancient gaze to Itisa. *You chose a different path, Destroyer's Child?*
Itisa met the dragon's eyes steadily and inclined her head in a gesture that somehow managed to be both respectful and proud.
*She chose me,* Harry said softly. *She chose to protect instead of destroy. To guard instead of hunt. Every day, she chooses again.*
The dragon was quiet for a long moment, ice crystals forming and melting around its feet as it contemplated. Finally, it spoke:
*Choice... yes. Perhaps we have been too quick to judge based on old tales and ancient grudges. The world changes, and with it, so must we.* The dragon's gaze swept between Harry and Itisa. *Very well, Speaker. Your companion may not be the same. But know this – we will be watching. Choice must be proven daily, as you said.*
Harry bowed slightly. *Thank you. And you're right – we prove who we are by our choices every day. All of us.*
The smaller dragons relaxed slightly, their scales chiming a gentler tune. The lead dragon inclined its head in acknowledgment before adding, *Though perhaps it would be wise not to mention this tolerance to other dragon colonies. Some are... less inclined to philosophical discussions about the nature of choice.*
Harry couldn't help but grin. *Was that a joke?*
*Dragons do not joke,* the creature replied, but there was definitely a glint of amusement in its crystalline eyes.
*Of course not,* Harry agreed solemnly, feeling Itisa's quiet amusement through their bond. *That would be beneath your dignity.*
The dragon snorted, a puff of frozen air swirling around them. *You are either very brave or very foolish, young Speaker.*
*Why not both?* Harry suggested cheerfully.
*Indeed,* the dragon rumbled. *Why not both.*
Newt, though unable to understand the conversation, had remained perfectly still, his experienced eyes tracking every subtle movement between the participants. His hand had relaxed away from his pocket, sensing the shift in tension.
The dragon took a step forward, frost spreading in a delicate pattern where its foot touched the ground.*Your honesty rings true, speaker. But understand – we protect this part of the forest. It is one of the few places where the old magic still flows purely. We cannot risk its corruption.*
*We'll leave,* Harry offered, *and we won't return to this specific clearing. But perhaps we could visit the forest's edge sometimes? There's much I'd like to learn about your kind.*
This seemed to amuse the dragon; its scales chimed in what Harry recognized as laughter. *Curiosity and caution – an interesting combination. You may visit the forest's edge, but the Destroyer must remain far from our sacred grounds.*
Harry nodded, then translated the gist of the conversation for Newt, who looked both relieved and fascinated.
"Remarkable," Newt murmured. "I've never seen anyone negotiate with Moon Dragons before. They usually just disappear at the first sign of company."
The lead dragon turned its attention to Newt, studying him with interest. *This one,* it communicated to Harry, *he carries the scent of many creatures. He is known to us, though he cannot speak our tongue.*
*He's a friend to magical creatures,* Harry explained. *He protects and studies them.*
*Yes,* the dragon agreed, *we have seen him before, though from afar. He respects the old boundaries.*
As they prepared to leave, the dragon had one final message for Harry. *Remember, young speaker – power requires wisdom to wield properly. Your companion may be peaceful now, but her nature carries ancient dangers. Guard her well, and guard yourself better.*
Harry felt Itisa's tension finally release as they backed away from the clearing. The dragons remained watching until Harry, Newt, and Itisa disappeared into the trees, their crystalline forms gradually fading back into the shadows like morning mist dissipating in sunlight.
Once they were a safe distance away, Newt turned to Harry with barely contained excitement. "That was extraordinary! What exactly did they say about me? I noticed they were looking at me quite intently at one point."
Harry couldn't help but grin at Newt's enthusiasm. "They said they've seen you before, actually. They respect that you understand boundaries."
"Fascinating!" Newt's eyes sparkled. "And their reaction to Itisa – I've never seen Moon Dragons display such clear territorial behavior. Usually, they simply vanish at the first sign of threat."
"Yeah, well," Harry adjusted his glasses, which had fogged slightly in the dragons' cold presence, "I guess they take their job as guardians pretty seriously."
Itisa, now fully relaxed on his shoulder, made a soft sound that could have been either agreement or dismissal. Her eyes had returned to their normal color, though she kept glancing back toward the clearing they'd left.
"This will make quite the entry in my notes," Newt said, already pulling out a worn journal from one of his numerous pockets. "Though of course, we'll need to be careful about how we document this. Wouldn't want the wrong people getting curious about why the dragons reacted so strongly to a supposed cat."
There was a moment of silence, before Newt decided to ask Harry something else.
"Harry," Newt stopped walking, turning to face him with intense curiosity in his eyes. "I've spent my entire life studying magical creatures, and I've never encountered anyone who could communicate with different species like that. Parseltongue is well-documented, and I have heard of an ancient language, of people that could talk to sea creatures, but that language is lost with time, but this... this is something entirely different."
Harry shrugged, a gesture made more pronounced by Itisa adjusting her position on his shoulder. "I've always been able to do it. Well, as long as I can remember anyway. It's not with every magical creature though – it's kind of random really. Like, I can talk to those dragons, and I can talk to the giant squid in the lake–"
"You can talk to the giant squid?" Newt interrupted, his notebook appearing in his hands so quickly it might have been summoned.
"Yeah, though honestly, she mostly complains about students throwing bread in the lake. Says it messes with the water quality," Harry grinned. "But then there are creatures I can't communicate with at all. Like Itisa here."
Newt's quill paused mid-scribble. "You can't communicate with Itisa? But she seems to understand you perfectly."
"That's different," Harry explained, reaching up to scratch behind Itisa's ears. "She understands me, and I understand her mood and general intentions, but it's not like with the dragons where we can have an actual conversation. I can't hear her thoughts or anything."
"Fascinating," Newt muttered, writing furiously. "And you say this ability manifested early?"
"Pretty much. First time I had a chat with a snake who said he liked sandwitches," Harry added thoughtfully, "that might have just been regular Parseltongue. It gets a bit confusing sometimes, trying to figure out which ability is which."
"This could revolutionize our understanding of magical creature communication," Newt said, more to himself than Harry. Then he looked up sharply. "Have you ever tried documenting which creatures you can and cannot communicate with? Is there any pattern?"
"Not really," Harry admitted. "Though Tonks – keeps telling me I should keep a journal about it. Says it could be useful for the future or whatever."
"Lady Tonks is quite right," Newt nodded approvingly. "This is extraordinary, Harry. Simply extraordinary. Would you be willing to work with me on documenting this ability? We could test it with various creatures during our summer expedition – safely, of course," he added quickly, noting Harry's raised eyebrow.
"As long as we're careful about who sees the results," Harry said. "I mean, between this and Itisa, I'm collecting quite a few secrets that probably shouldn't end up in the wrong hands."
Itisa made a soft sound that somehow managed to convey complete agreement.
"Of course, of course," Newt assured him. "I'm quite experienced at keeping certain discoveries... shall we say, appropriately documented but selectively shared. Some knowledge needs to be protected, especially from those who might misuse it."
"Like the Ministry?" Harry asked shrewdly.
Newt's expression turned serious. "Precisely. While there are many good people in the Ministry, there are also those who fear what they don't understand. And fear, Harry, can make people do terrible things."
"Tell me about it," Harry muttered, thinking of the Dragon's reaction to Itisa. "Even magical creatures are afraid of other magical creatures."
"Yes, well," Newt smiled slightly, tucking his notebook away, "that's why it's so important to have people who can bridge those gaps. People who can communicate, understand, and explain. People like you, Harry."
At that moment, Harry wondered if he could achieve that. Maybe this is why he could use this language that allowed him to speak with many magical creatures; maybe this is why he had it; maybe his role was to be the bridge and heal old wounds. Maybe that is what he was supposed to do. His mind went to the mood dragons, and he wondered, perhaps he had healed an old wound, and maybe he could do something similar for many other magical creatures and people.
Heal Wounds.
Tomorrow
"So, you're just going to gallivant across France with Newt Scamander?" Tonks asked, her hair shifting from bubblegum pink to a curious yellow. "And Mum actually agreed to this?"
Harry grinned, feeding Itisa a piece of chicken from his plate. "Your mum said it was fine as long as I promise not to bring back any 'interesting' creatures. Though she did give me a very pointed look when she said that."
"Can't imagine why," Tonks muttered, glancing at Itisa with a knowing smirk.
"But Harry," Hermione interjected, her voice dropping to a concerned whisper despite being at the Hufflepuff table, "the French Ministry is incredibly strict about magical creature regulations. What if you run into trouble?"
"Relax, Hermione," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I've got Newt Scamander with me – you know, only the most famous magizoologist ever? Plus," he scratched Itisa's ears, "I've got my lucky charm right here."
Tonks nearly choked on her pumpkin juice, knowing exactly what kind of 'luck' a Nundu companion could provide.
"Still," Susan chimed in, "Hermione's got a point. My Auntie says the French magical law enforcement doesn't mess around. They once arrested a wizard for teaching a garden gnome to sing La Marseillaise."
"That's... oddly specific," Harry remarked.
"Apparently it was very off-key," Susan added solemnly.
"Speaking of things that could go wrong," Cedric Diggory leaned across the table, "how's your flying, Potter? Heard you're pretty good on a broom, but you never tried out for the team."
"Oh, he's brilliant at flying," Susan jumped in before Harry could answer. "Remember that time with the robes, Harry?"
Harry groaned as Tonks perked up. "What's this about robes?"
"Well," Susan's eyes sparkled with mischief, "Harry decided it would be brilliant to experiment with some enchantments on our school robes. Said he got the idea from some old book about flying carpets."
"I maintain it was a perfectly reasonable experiment," Harry defended.
"He managed to make our robes act like wings!" Susan continued excitedly. "We were actually flying! Well, until..."
"Until what?" Hermione asked, looking both disapproving and fascinated.
"Until Professor McGonagall saw us soaring past her office window," Harry admitted. "I've never seen someone's eyebrows go that high."
"The best part," Susan giggled, "was Harry trying to explain that it wasn't technically breaking any rules because the ban is on flying carpets, not flying robes."
"Did that work?" Cedric asked, grinning.
"What do you think?" Harry deadpanned. "Though I swear I saw her trying not to smile when she was giving us detention."
"Classic Harry," Tonks laughed, her hair shifting to match Harry's messy black style. "Always finding the weirdest loopholes in magical law."
"Speaking of which," Hermione narrowed her eyes, "are you sure all these creatures you're going to study in France are, well, legal?"
"Hermione," Harry placed a hand over his heart in mock offense, "are you suggesting that I, a perfect innocent, would ever do anything against regulations?"
"Yes," came the unanimous response from everyone within earshot.
"The fact that you're sitting at the Hufflepuff table right now is technically against school rules," Susan pointed out.
"Actually," Harry raised a finger, "there's nothing in Hogwarts: A History that explicitly forbids sitting at other house tables. I checked."
"Of course you did," Hermione sighed, but she was smiling.
"Besides," Susan added, "if we stuck to all the rules, we'd never get to hear Harry's absolutely mental stories about talking to the giant squid. Squids can talk, and last time I checked, there isn't a language for talking to sea screatures."
"The squid is a delightful conversationalist," Harry protested. "She's just misunderstood. And very passionate about proper lake maintenance."
Itisa chose that moment to steal another piece of chicken from Harry's plate, causing him to give her an exasperated look. "See what you've done? Now she thinks she can just take whatever she wants."
"That cat of yours gets away with murder," Cedric observed.
Tonks snorted into her pumpkin juice while Harry carefully kept his face neutral. "She's just spoiled. Aren't you, you little menace?" He scratched under Itisa's chin, receiving a purr that, to those who knew better, sounded suspiciously like a suppressed growl.
"So what exactly are you looking for in France?" Susan asked, mercifully changing the subject.
"Newt mentioned something about Royal Sea Horses," Harry said. "Apparently they're like regular hippocampi but more... royal?"
"They're not just more royal," Hermione immediately switched into lecture mode. "The Hippocampus Royale is an extremely rare variant that's known to create powerful magical currents in the waters they inhabit. They're said to be able to control the tide itself!"
"Leave it to Hermione to know the exact scientific classification," Tonks teased.
"Well, someone has to know these things," Hermione sniffed. "Especially since Harry seems determined to find the most dangerous creatures possible."
"I do not!" Harry protested. "They just sort of... find me."
"Like Itisa?" Susan asked innocently.
"Exactly!" Harry agreed, then quickly added, "I mean, what's dangerous about a cat?"
Tonks made a strange choking sound that she quickly turned into a cough.
"Just promise me you'll be careful," Hermione insisted. "And write to us! I want to know everything about the French magical creature preservation programs."
"And I want to know if French garden gnomes sing better than English ones," Susan added.
"And I want to know if you manage to convince Professor Snape to let you try that flying robe trick again," Cedric grinned.
"And I want to know if you manage to not give my mum a heart attack with whatever dangerous creature you inevitably try to bring home," Tonks concluded.
Harry looked around at his friends, feeling a warm surge of affection. "I promise to write to all of you. Though if I do find another interesting creature, Tonks, you'll have to help me convince your mum to let me keep it."
"Absolutely not," Tonks declared. "One is enough!"
"One what?" Susan asked curiously.
"One... chance at convincing my mum to adopt any more strays," Tonks recovered quickly. "She's still getting used to having Harry around."
"Speaking of strays," Harry quickly changed the subject, "did anyone else notice Mrs. Norris trying to flirt with Itisa the other day?"
The resulting laughter and cascade of cat-related jokes successfully derailed any further dangerous questions, though Harry couldn't help but notice Hermione's thoughtful expression as she watched Itisa.
⚯ ͛
⚯ ͛
Harry wandered the corridors, muttering under his breath as he tested different pitches and tones. Loretta had been very specific about the importance of sound modulation in Voice Magic, but finding a quiet place to practice in Hogwarts was proving challenging.
"Sonorus," he whispered experimentally, watching as the sound rippled through the air in a way only he could see.
"Harry James Potter!"
He jumped, the magical vibrations dissipating. Hermione stood at the end of the corridor, hands on her hips, wearing an expression that reminded him uncomfortably of Professor McGonagall.
"Follow me," she commanded, turning on her heel without waiting for a response.
Harry glanced at Itisa, who looked far too amused for his liking. "Thanks for the warning," he muttered to his companion as they followed Hermione.
She led them to an empty classroom on the third floor, casting a quick series of privacy charms that impressed even Harry. Itisa immediately claimed a desk for herself, stretching out luxuriously in a patch of sunlight.
"Well, well, Hermione," Harry couldn't resist saying, "dragging me into empty classrooms now? What would people say?"
Hermione's face turned scarlet. "Oh, shut up, Harry! This is serious!" But her lips twitched slightly before she composed herself. "You've been avoiding this conversation for months."
Harry's playful smile faded. He knew exactly what conversation she meant.
"Ever since Halloween," Hermione continued, her voice quieter now. "That troll... it was brutalazied, Harry. And Itisa..." She glanced at the seemingly innocent cat lounging on the desk. "I saw her eyes glow. I saw her grow bigger."
"Hermione..."
"Don't try to explain it away," she cut him off. "I've been researching, trying to figure it out. But every time I think I'm close, the pieces don't quite fit. And you promised you'd tell me."
Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, making it worse. "I did promise, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did." Hermione's expression softened slightly. "Harry, I'm your friend. Whatever it is, whatever she is, I won't tell anyone. But I need to know. Not just out of curiosity, but because..." she hesitated, "because I want to help protect you both."
Harry hesitated, looking at Itisa. The Nundu met his gaze steadily, and he could sense her leaving the decision to him. Could he really tell Hermione everything? She was brilliant, trustworthy, and already knew something was different about Itisa. But this wasn't just his secret to keep.
Itisa lifted her head, regarding Hermione with those intelligent gold eyes. Harry could feel his companion's curiosity and – surprisingly – approval.
"You might want to sit down," Harry suggested, pulling out a chair for her. "This is... well, it's big. Really big."
Hermione sat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Is she some kind of magical creature? A kneazle hybrid perhaps?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh, though it came out slightly hysterical. "A kneazle? Merlin, I wish it were that simple." He took a deep breath. "Hermione, what do you know about Nundus?"
Her eyes widened impossibly. "Nundus? But they're..." Her gaze snapped to Itisa, who was now sitting up, watching the conversation intently. "No. That's impossible. They're enormous. They're deadly. They're..."
"The most dangerous magical creatures in the world?" Harry finished quietly. "Yeah, I know."
"But she's so small!" Hermione protested weakly, though Harry could see her brilliant mind already connecting the dots – the strength to kill a troll, the way Itisa could appear larger sometimes, her unusual intelligence.
"She can change her size," Harry explained. "It's how she stays hidden. She chose to stay with me, to protect me."
"A Nundu," Hermione whispered, staring at Itisa with new eyes. "I've been petting a Nundu. I've been giving treats to a Nundu." She let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "I once scolded a Nundu for sleeping on my homework."
"And she listened, didn't she?" Harry pointed out with a small smile. "She's not like other Nundus, Hermione. She's different."
"But the Ministry... if they found out..."
"They'd kill her," Harry said bluntly. "Or try to. That's why no one can know. Well, almost no one. Tonks and her parents know, and now you."
"Does Professor Dumbledore know about this?" Hermione asked suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.
Harry's expression hardened slightly. "Dumbledore doesn't need to know everything that happens in this castle, Hermione."
"But Harry, if Itisa is something dangerous—"
"He knows," Harry interrupted. "He knows what Itisa is."
The relief on Hermione's face made something twist uncomfortably in Harry's stomach. "Would you have told him?" he asked quietly. "If he hadn't known, would you have gone to him about this?"
"No," Hermione answered immediately, without hesitation.
The quick response surprised him. "Really? But you just seemed so relieved that he knows. Why wouldn't you tell him?"
Hermione bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "While I wouldn't be comfortable keeping something like this from Professor Dumbledore... it wouldn't be my secret to tell." She bit her lower lip as if thinking deeply on what to say next. "Besides, you've been helping me see things differently."
"I have?"
"Remember what you told me on the train? About how not everything written in books is true? How sometimes we have to look beyond what we're told and think for ourselves?"
Harry nodded, remembering their conversation about the books that talked about Harry's adventures that never happened.
"Well," Hermione continued, "look at what happened with Professor Quirrell."
Harry tensed slightly at the name, and Itisa's tail twitched.
"I don't know exactly what happened," Hermione said quickly. "There are all sorts of wild rumors, of course. But I know you were innocent in all of it, and I know that just because someone is a Professor, that doesn't make them automatically trustworthy." She straightened in her chair. "You showed me that sometimes the people in authority, the people writing the books and making the rules, they can be wrong. Or worse, they can deliberately mislead people."
"That's... surprisingly cynical of you, Hermione," Harry said, though he was smiling slightly.
"I prefer to think of it as being pragmatic," she sniffed. "And after everything that's happened this year... well, I'd rather trust my friend who I know has a good heart than blindly follow what books or authority figures tell me is right."
Harry felt a warm surge of affection for his friend. "Even if that friend keeps a supposedly deadly creature as a pet?"
"Especially then," Hermione said firmly. "Because I've seen how you are with her, Harry. And how she is with you. The books say Nundus are mindless killers, but Itisa protected us from that troll. They say they can't be tamed, but she is right there, and the two of us are not tiny pieces."
Itisa made a sound that might have been pride.
"Though," Hermione added with a slight smirk, "this does explain why you never seem worried about anything. I'd probably be pretty confident too if I had one of the most dangerous magical creatures in existence watching my back."
"Hey, I worry about plenty of things!" Harry protested.
"About what?"
The ministry of magic will find out within four years that my wand has a living Nundu core and it won't take long for them to knock on my door and ask where I got a living Nundu core, Harry wanted to say, but he didn't say any of that, there was no point in dragging Hermione to his problems. No. He needed to grow stronger; he needed more influence so that when that day came, he would be powerful enough to keep Itisa and to make sure she was safe. That's what he wanted.
"How about we get out of here before anyone finds us and gets some ideas?" Harry asked as he stood up.
Hermione noticed he didn't answer her but decided to leave it be as she removed the privacy charms.
"Though, I wouldn't mind it, Hermione," Harry said with a mischievous grin. "Being caught in an empty classroom with one the brightest witch of our age...behind me of course? Might actually improve my reputation."
"Oh, you absolute prat!" Hermione swatted his shoulder, her face flushing pink even as she tried not to smile. "And here I was, thinking we were having a serious conversation about your potentially deadly magical companion."
"Who says I can't be serious and charming at the same time?"
Itisa made a sound that was suspiciously close to a snort.
"See?" Harry pointed at his companion accusingly. "This is what I mean about being judged. Even my own familiar doesn't appreciate my wit."
"Good to know Itisa has some sense, at least," Hermione said primly, though her eyes were twinkling. "Come on, you insufferable flirt, let's get to dinner before Tonks sends out a search party."
"She'd probably check the library first," Harry mused as they left the classroom. "You know, your usual habitat."
"Keep it up, Potter, and I might just tell her exactly why we were in an empty classroom together."
"Would you really subject yourself to those rumors just to get back at me?"
"Try me," Hermione challenged, but she was grinning now.
Itisa padded along behind them, watching their banter with what could only be described as fond exasperation.
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