Of Gods And Wizards

Chapter 2 -- Did you hear the one about the lesbian dinosaur?

"They will travel south. They will travel to their descendant."

"You say this as if I should be worried."

"Well, certainly not. But I must say, he is not to be underestimated."

"It seems that either you overestimate him, or that you forget who you're speaking with."

"What did they take with them?"

"Oh, some piece of work they insist on keeping close."

"It looked an awful lot like a book."

"It is a book. A book of prophecies that could very well undo everything we've worked for."

"Then why did you let them take it?"

"Because they'd also have to convince six teenagers to get along. Everyone knows that's impossible."

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As Dumbledore spoke the last words of the legend, Hermione was quickly fitting the pieces together. History and mythology had never been her favorite subjects (that place was reserved for Arithmancy), but the idea of gods and wizards being intertwined quite intrigued her. In fact, it made a great deal of sense, seeing as how so many muggles believed that the "gods" of old had magical powers. Many of these gods were said to carry staffs, which could certainly be the earliest forms of a wand. Some of them had even been known to turn into animals. She was entirely overwhelmed at the mere thought that she could very well be in the same room with the individuals who were the originators of her people. Of course, the intrigue was slightly offset by the thought of braving the wilderness and retrieving a great sword from a poisonous river.

Hermione was just contemplating the origin of the ancient wizard's immortality (for before Flamel had come across the Elixir of Life, there had been no known source for immortality. Therefore, these wizards must have found another way to achieve such longevity all those millennia ago), when Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts, "And that brings us back to Susan's question. Why were you six chosen to go on this difficult and dangerous quest? Despite what you may think, this was not an uncomplicated decision, and if the circumstances could be altered, I would gladly..." He trailed off in mid-sentence, as if he was quite troubled.

Dumbledore sighed deeply and continued, "A long time ago, there were nine books of prophecy created by a very powerful sorceress. A great king came to the sorceress one day, and offered her all the gold of his people for the books. But the sorceress had no use for gold, and so she asked for his blood. But he thought that much too high a price and refused. In return, the sorceress threw three of the books into her hearth, and raised the price to not only his blood, but the blood of his sons."

"Greedy wench, if you ask me." Draco scoffed quietly, and Hermione shushed at him.

Dumbledore persisted unabatedly, "The king was appalled at this, and raised his offer to the gold of all his kingdom, and the lives of whatever peasants she wished. The sorceress was furious at his attempts to wheedle her into a lesser price, and threw three more books into the fire, while raising the price to that of his soul. The king could not bare to lose the last three books of prophecy, so he paid the highest price for them, and gave his soul to the sorceress."

There was a heavy silence in the room for a moment before Hermione spoke, "That still doesn't answer the question, Professor."

"I would have thought you'd understand by now, Hermione." Dumbledore smiled at her, without malice or mockery.

She frowned and thought about it for a moment. Three books of prophesy... what could they possibly have to do with choosing a mixed up group of sixth year students from Hogwarts? And then it became clear to her, Prophesy. Divination. Future-telling. Fate and destiny. This made her frown a bit more. Divination was her least favorite subject.

"The three books of prophecy explain who will go and get the sword," she said slowly.

"Well yes, supposedly. Except that we only have one book. And, it's locked. Without the sword, it can't be read. We only know what's written on the cover, and that happens to include the six of you." Freyr threw up his hands in a haughty way, and began pacing.

"How do you come into this?" Harry looked at Freyr, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"He's a Vanir, I think," Seamus spoke up. Hermione had been contemplating that theory for a few minutes, and was quite surprised that anybody mentioned it before she had a chance.

"Well spotted, Mr. Finnigan. These are my ancestors. Though, I must say, they've aged gracefully." Dumbledore said, smiling. He was quite correct; they hardly looked as though they could be anyone's ancestors. They looked younger than Dumbledore himself.

"What do we get out of this?" Draco asked, evidently not impressed.

"You will receive my utmost gratitude, and, if I am not mistaken," Dumbledore looked to his relatives. "You will each receive a prize of value from the Vanir."

Ron's eyes lit up at this. "I'll do it."

"So will I," said Harry determinedly.

Hermione nodded. "I'll go anywhere you need me to."

"I'll go, too." Seamus said, looking surprised at himself.

Susan Bones looked at Dumbledore, furrowing her brow. "I don't know what difference I'll make, but if you need me to go, I will."

With a nod, Dumbledore turned to Draco, waiting for his consent. Draco seemed to be weighing his options. He sat quite still, his face blank and unreadable. All of the others were staring at him.

He finally decided to say something. "This prize of value, does it come in tight leather?"

Dumbledore appeared to be pretending as if he didn't hear this statement, and continued watching Draco, obviously waiting for something more.

Draco looked very unhappy. "Alright. Alright, I'll go on your sodding quest. But if I wake up with Weasley there standing over me in my tent, I'm blaming you."

"Oh, that will hardly be a problem," Dumbledore said, and Hermione could have sworn she saw him suppress a smile. "You won't be taking tents."

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Dumbledore simply said, "You'll be leaving tomorrow."

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As the group walked out of Dumbledore's office several hours later, (Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Seamus heading to the right, and up the stairs, Draco walking past them, and Susan heading left, through the corridor), Susan's heart was beating faster than it ever had before. She wasn't quite sure whether to be absolutely dumbfounded or collectively understanding. Herbology had started out as a perfectly normal class, with Hannah busy gossiping over the latest break-ups, while Susan pretended to listen thoughtfully, when all of a sudden Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prat, waltzed in and delivered a letter from Professor Dumbledore.

That right there was odd enough to attract Susan's attention, as she had the distinct notion that Dumbledore found Draco Malfoy and his consistent wit to be tiring. In fact, she was relatively sure that everybody tired of Draco Malfoy's wit, aside from Draco himself, and perhaps his fellow Slytherins.

Then, moments later, she found herself sitting in Dumbledore's office, with several people she hardly even knew, let alone trusted, and she was being asked to join them on an insane quest. That, of course, was intriguing in it's own manner, but Susan was much too controlled to let intrigue take over instinct.

The thing that had been puzzling her most, however, was the compilation of students that had been chosen. Prophesies were a rather flimsy basis for sending six teenagers out into the wilderness, alone and unarmed. She went over the list again in her head for the hundredth time. Harry Potter was easy to understand; he had a knack for surviving situations that no one else made it out of. He was brave and intrepid-- a true Gryffindor. Hermione Granger, too, could be easily comprehended. She was the smartest witch in nearly all of Hogwarts; there wasn't a spell, charm, or potion she couldn't manage if she made up her mind to do so. But that still left Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, Draco Malfoy, and the person she could least account for--herself.

As Susan walked down the stairs, heading toward the Hufflepuff dormitory, she deliberated over why the lingering students might have been selected. Ron Weasley, she remembered from first year, had won a batch of points for Gryffindor because of a chess game. That probably meant that, although Ron wasn't the fastest broom in the closet, he must be very strategically oriented--not to mention his close and loyal friendship with both Harry and Hermione. And Seamus Finnigan, she had heard (from Hannah, of course) that he held a good hand in cards. Maybe this had something to do with his intellect as well. But Draco Malfoy? She hardly thought he might have been chosen to make witty comments for the span of the expedition. Perhaps he wasn't all vulgar insults and clever quips--perhaps he was worth more than he appeared. Which lead to why she had been chosen.

Susan's thoughts scattered, and she stopped short as she heard footsteps approaching. At this absurd hour, all students were supposed to be in bed. Although she knew Dumbledore would surely clear her, she was sure it would take a great deal of time for him to do so and she really just wanted to go to sleep. She froze as the a dark, shadowed figure passed through the hall she had been about to enter.

She breathed a sigh of relief. A sigh that, to her demise, was slightly audible.

The figure turned around, and she at once wished it had been the caretaker, Filch, instead. Even Peeves would have been a welcome sight.

"Oh. You. I thought I smelled something," Draco sneered vilely. "Hufflepuff stench."

"Is that it? You're supposed to be the Slytherin bad-arse, and the best you can do is that?" Susan asked, mockingly, though she sounded much more assured of herself then she felt.

"Well, if you hadn't been sneaking up on me--"

"Oh, you were just standing in that hallway, silently watching me for kicks and giggles, I expect?"

"I thought you were a teacher." It sounded feeble and lame in her head too.

"Right. That's what every little pathetic twit who spies on me as I walk through corridors late at night comes up with. And I assure you there are plenty. I just don't know what it is about me. It must be the hair. Or maybe it's the charm. Anyway, I'd love to chat, but, alas. I have just about anything better that I could be doing instead of talking to you."

He turned around and walked off. Susan was furious. She could feel her cheeks burning; a sign she hoped Draco would not take for embarrassment. She watched him glide assertively through the hall, and a second later, took off in the same direction Draco stopped and turned around.

"And now you're following me. Cute, almost." Draco said, in a tone that mocked pity.

"Oh shut up, you know perfectly well that my Common Room is also reached by means of this hall," she said, walking past him in what she hoped was a confident-looking manner.

He quickly caught up with her, adjusting his dark robes slightly and smoothing out his already excessively gelled hair. The flames from the torches placed throughout the hall danced eerily across the pair, one of cold silver, the other of pale darkness, both moving quickly down the hall, both cloaks whirling in their wake. The paintings on the wall listened intently as their conversation furthered. Several characters darted from one frame to another attempting to catch up.

"I certainly did not just hear you imply that I know anything about the Hufflepuff Common Room."

She just glared at him. "You really are just like they say."

"Oh, and what do they say?"

"That you're crude and irritating. That you're impossible, and that your jokes aren't funny. That you're -"

"Oh, I've heard all of that before. I don't need this abuse from you, Bones. I've got masses of people dying to abuse me," he paused, suddenly. "Hey, my jokes are funny."

"No. They aren't."

"Well, have you heard the one about the lesbian dinosaur yet? That's a great one, it starts out with --"

She stopped. The sound of several painted figures colliding in the painting behind her was quite audible in the dark, abandoned halls.

"Draco, I'm really not interested."

He twisted around and stood facing her. In a very unexpected, deft move, he seized her arm tightly and violently, and jerked her body close to his. Their faces were so close, she could feel the heat of his breath, see the cold steel grey in his eyes.

"In me? Somehow, I seriously doubt that," he said in a quiet, dangerous voice.

Disgusted, she hastily pulled back. Draco released her arm, smiled wickedly, turned back and continued walking down the hall coolly as if he had just caught his thousandth snitch. Susan could feel her blood seething.

"I really hope that one day I'll be able to slap that disgusting grin off of your face." Susan said, clenching her fists, as she turned swiftly into a secret hallway hidden by the image of a huge painting of a forest scene, which, on further inspection, had a little family of badgers moving about. She could hear Draco stop mid-sentence. He had seemed to realise she had vanished. I suppose, she thought, he really didn't know this y to my common room.

She reached the Hufflepuff dormitory, said the password ("Badger!" Hufflepuffs were never much on creativity), and entered the common room. It was warm and cozy, with shadows from the fire in the fireplace dancing lightly on the stony walls. Immediately, Hannah Abbott hopped out of a nearby chair, and headed towards her.

"Well, Susan, what was all that about, eh?" Hannah asked, her voice rising excitedly. "You missed the last bit of Herbology. Neville lost his toad, Trevor. It seems that foul bush swallowed him. Poor Neville was a wreck."

"I don't really want to talk about it, Hannah, " said Susan. This was quite true. She wanted to go lay down. She wanted to try and get some sleep, though she doubted with all that had happened, she'd be able to sleep a wink. Tomorrow was beginning to look like a very long day indeed.

Hannah looked deeply disappointed, but let Susan pass without further inquiry. She was stopped by three other Hufflepuffs on the way to her dorm (Terry Boot even tried to coax information out of her with some extra Cockroach Clusters, but Susan politely declined). Each one was excited and curious about why she had been called out of class with four other Gryffindors, and Draco Malfoy.

When she finally made it to bed, she did not sleep for several hours, but instead lay awake, contemplating the whole situation. Had she been in the Gryffindor common room at that moment, she may have had someone to converse with, as there were four select Gryffindors up discussing the situation until late into the night.

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"It's in ancient runic lettering," said Hermione, who had been granted the book of prophesies by Freya and Freyr (for safekeeping during their quest. Guard it with your life! Let no other beings touch it! And do NOT LOSE IT! Freyr had spouted madly. Freya merely suggested it might be useful on their journey), and was staring at the cover."

Can you read it, though?" asked Ron, who was becoming slightly impatient. After all, it was getting late, and patience was not his department of expertise.

"Of course I can read it," sniffed Hermione, in annoyance.

Ron, Harry, and Seamus looked at her, slightly exasperated. She didn't appear to notice, as she was focused intently on the book. It was a shiny color that Ron thought looked vaguely like silver, though it was hard to tell. It was large, but strangely lightweight for it's size, and clamped shut by three fierce metal-looking claws.

He finally asked. "Hermione, what does it say?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then read aloud.

"To use a book of great capability, one must be greatly capable.

To prove one is capable, means a great trial of forbearance and ability.

The forbearance and ability of six shall change the world.

Six must be young in age, and old in thought.

One must be valiant, and one must be knowledgeable.

One must be steadfast, and one must be cunning.

One must be reasonable, and one must be methodical.

And the six must be willing to travel to the last place they would desire to be,

For there is where they will find the key."

"And how did they derive from that, that... we have to pull some ancient sword out of a river?" asked Seamus, breaking a long silence that had followed. "I mean, if it's been there so long, there's probably a reason for it."

Hermione seemed to be agreeing, but Ron could tell that she was also thinking through what he had just read. "Evidently, there's something the six of us can do together to retrieve that sword, that nobody could before."

Ron sniggered. "Yeah, bitch about it."

Hermione eyed him, critically. "Well, let's think about this. It lists six distinct personality traits. Clearly, Harry was chosen because he's valiant. Brave." Harry's cheeks reddened at this. She gave him a sideways smile.

"I'm probably chosen for being the know-it-all. And Ron's steadfast." Ron was slightly offended by this, until Hermione explained that this meant he was loyal and dedicated.

Hermione continued, "As much as I don't want to admit it, Draco is cunning." She added hurriedly at the look on Harry's face, "If nothing else."

After Hermione had gone silent in thought for several seconds, Seamus added, "I think I'm the reasonable one."

She looked relieved, and concluded her thoughts by saying, "And that makes Susan methodical."

"Right." Harry nodded at Hermione, and yawned slightly. The common room was abandoned and dimly lit, with only the muted glow of the fire to light the way to their dormitories. "You know, we should get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow, I'm thinking, and plus, we'll have to put up with Malfoy."

Ron groaned in agreement, "I just hope he doesn't wear anything leopard print... The leather is bad enough."

Seamus and Harry both shuddered and made faces at Ron, while Hermione smiled faintly. Ron assumed she didn't have a problem with Malfoy in leopard print, and that maybe she would actually enjoy the sight. But the thought made him shudder, too.

Sleepily, they all bid each other good night, and Ron and Harry made their way up the boy's staircase, with Seamus trailing slowly behind them, while Hermione joined the other girls in her dormitory.

Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new adventure, one they would never forget. Ron just hoped it would be an adventure they would live to remember.