Accio, Love!

The trees were taller, denser, and far more menacing in this part of the forest. Their gnarled branches clawed at the sky like skeletal fingers, while an eerie mist hugged the ground, curling around their feet like a stubborn Kneazle. The magical map in Hermione's hand glowed faintly, its enchanted parchment pulsing with directions as she led the way. Draco followed behind, his movements stiff and jerky, his head swiveling from left to right so rapidly it was a wonder his neck didn’t snap.

"Could you stop doing that?" Hermione asked, not looking back.

"Doing what?" Draco snapped, his voice a mixture of indignation and fear.

"Looking around like you’re auditioning for the lead role in The Paranoid Wizard," she replied. "You’re going to give yourself whiplash."

"Forgive me for not feeling at ease in a place that looks like it’s straight out of a cursed children’s book," Draco muttered. "Why is everything so... damp?"

Hermione sighed. "It’s called a microclimate, Malfoy. This part of the forest is naturally humid because—"

"Don’t care," Draco interrupted, sidestepping a particularly aggressive-looking root. "Just let me know if something tries to eat us."

The map suddenly shimmered and reoriented itself. Hermione squinted at the new markings. "We’re close. The thunderbird was last spotted near a groove that should be just ahead."

Draco peered over her shoulder. "Are you sure that map isn’t malfunctioning? It’s pointing us straight into what looks like a natural disaster."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It’s enchanted by the Ministry. It’s not going to malfunction."

"The same Ministry that’s sent me on probation to help you find mythical beasts? Forgive me if my faith isn’t exactly brimming."

Hermione ignored him and pushed onward. The forest seemed to grow darker with every step, the only light coming from the soft glow of the map and Hermione’s wand tip. Draco’s wand was also lit, though his beam was shaky, as if his hand couldn’t decide which direction to aim.

"Would you stop waving that thing around?" Hermione said. "You’ll scare off the thunderbird."

"Scare it off?" Draco huffed. "If anything, I’m making sure it knows we’re civilized wizards and not some forest-dwelling savages."

"Yes, because nothing says ‘civilized’ like flailing your wand like a deranged conductor," Hermione shot back.

Before Draco could retort, there was a loud snap from somewhere to their left. Both of them froze. Hermione held up a hand to silence Draco, though he hadn’t actually said anything. They listened intently. The forest was silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

"Probably just a branch falling," Hermione whispered.

"Or," Draco whispered back, "a creature stalking us, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce."

Hermione turned to glare at him. "Do you have to be so melodramatic?"

"It’s called being prepared," Draco said, puffing out his chest. "You’re welcome."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to the map. As she took another step, her foot caught on something, and she stumbled forward. A split second later, there was a loud whoosh and a net sprang up around her, hoisting her into the air.

"Oh, for Merlin’s sake!" she cried, dangling helplessly. Her hair, already frizzed from the humidity, now looked like an angry puff of clouds.

Draco burst out laughing. "I’ve read about these traps! They’re set by poachers to catch magical creatures. Looks like you’re their latest victim."

"This isn’t funny, Malfoy! Get me down!"

Draco smirked and sauntered closer, inspecting the net with a critical eye. "Hmm, let’s see. If I were a poacher, where would I put the release mechanism?"

"Malfoy, I swear, if you don’t let me down right now—"

"Relax, Granger. I’ve got this under control," he said, pulling out his wand. He aimed it at the net and muttered, "Diffindo!"

The net gave way instantly, dropping Hermione unceremoniously to the ground with a thud.

"Ow!" she yelped, rubbing her elbow.

Draco winced. "Sorry. I thought you’d land more gracefully."

Hermione glared at him, her cheeks red. "Do you even know the meaning of the word ‘graceful’?"

"Of course I do. I embody it," Draco said smugly.

Hermione muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "ferret." She dusted herself off and grabbed the map, which had miraculously survived her fall.

As they continued, the forest grew even stranger. The trees seemed to lean toward them, their trunks twisted as if in silent laughter. A faint, eerie hum filled the air, making the hairs on the back of Draco’s neck stand on end.

"What’s that noise?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Probably just the wind," Hermione said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Draco squinted into the darkness. "Or maybe it’s—"

Before he could finish, the ground beneath them began to tremble. A moment later, a swarm of tiny, glowing creatures burst out of the underbrush, their wings shimmering like liquid gold.

"Bowtruckles!" Hermione exclaimed. "They must have a nest nearby. Don’t move; they’re very territorial."

Draco froze, his eyes wide as the Bowtruckles flitted around them, chittering angrily. One particularly bold Bowtruckle landed on Draco’s shoulder and began tugging at his hair.

"Get it off! Get it off!" Draco squealed, swatting at the air.

"Stop flailing! You’ll only make them angrier!" Hermione hissed.

"Easy for you to say! You’re not being assaulted by a miniature tree demon!"

Hermione pulled out a small vial of sap from her bag and uncorked it. The sweet smell immediately caught the Bowtruckles’ attention. They abandoned Draco and hovered around the vial, their chittering turning into soft coos.

"There," Hermione said, pouring a bit of the sap onto a nearby rock. The Bowtruckles eagerly swarmed the offering, leaving the two wizards in peace.

Draco straightened his robes and shot Hermione a glare. "I’m adding this to my list of grievances."

"What list of grievances?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

"The list of things I’m going to bring up when I inevitably lodge a formal complaint about this mission."

Hermione shook her head. "Let’s just focus on finding the thunderbird before something else happens."

As they moved deeper into the forest, the map began to glow brighter. The markings indicated they were close to their destination. Hermione quickened her pace, excitement overriding her frustration.

"There!" she said, pointing ahead. A clearing came into view, bathed in silvery light. At its center was a tranquil pond, its surface so still it looked like glass.

Draco let out a low whistle. "If I were a mythical creature, this is where I’d hang out."

They crept closer, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of the thunderbird. Suddenly, there was rustling in the bushes. Both of them froze, wands at the ready.

A moment later, a large, shadowy figure emerged. But it wasn’t a thunderbird.

"Is that... a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" Draco whispered, incredulous.

Hermione blinked. "No, it’s just a very confused Erumpent."

The massive creature snorted and stomped its feet, clearly unhappy about being disturbed.

Draco took a step back. "Granger, I’m starting to think this map is cursed."

Hermione sighed. "Let’s just hope it’s not leading us into an Erumpent mating ground."

Draco paled. "If it is, I’m officially quitting."

"You can’t quit probation, Draco," Hermione said with a smirk, and for the first time that day, she laughed.

🔍

As Hermione and Draco edged closer to the pond, the glow of the map began to fade. The shimmering parchment was now almost useless, its directions growing faint and cryptic. Hermione squinted at the map and muttered, "I don’t understand. It’s leading us in circles."

"Or," Draco said, pointing to the massive tracks in the ground, "it’s leading us into something… terrifying."

Hermione followed his gaze. The tracks were deep, crisscrossing the area around the clearing. Large, round impressions marked the ground, with claw marks gouging into the dirt. A low rumble vibrated through the air, and Hermione’s eyes widened in realization.

"Oh no," she whispered. "These are Erumpent tracks."

Draco blinked at her. "Come again?"

"Erumpent," Hermione repeated, her voice hushed but urgent. "Highly explosive, easily provoked… and this is their mating ground."

Draco froze. "Their what ground?"

Hermione grabbed his arm and tugged. "We need to leave. Now. Quietly."

The two began to back away slowly, stepping lightly to avoid making noise. But subtlety was never Draco’s strong suit. His boot snagged on a vine, and he stumbled backward with a loud grunt, landing in the middle of a patch of brightly colored flowers. The impact sent a small puff of glittering spores into the air.

"Are you serious?" Hermione hissed. "Do you ever watch where you’re going?"

Before Draco could respond, a loud snort echoed through the clearing. The ground trembled, and the bushes parted to reveal not one, but two enormous Erumpents, their horns glowing ominously. They fixed their beady eyes on the intruders, their massive bodies tensed and ready to charge.

"Don’t move," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible. "Erumpents respond to sudden movements."

"Why didn’t you mention that sooner?" Draco whispered back, his eyes wide with panic.

One of the Erumpents took a cautious step forward, its horn pulsing. Draco let out a nervous laugh. "Maybe it just wants to say hello."

The Erumpent charged.

"Run!" Hermione screamed, yanking Draco to his feet.

They sprinted through the forest, the enraged Erumpents thundering after them. Branches whipped at their faces, and roots seemed to rise up to trip them. Draco stumbled again, nearly falling, but Hermione grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him forward.

"Keep running!" she shouted. "Don’t look back!"

"Don’t tell me not to look back!" Draco yelled, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, Merlin, they’re gaining on us!"

"Stop looking back and focus on not tripping!"

Draco’s protests were cut short as one of the Erumpents let out an ear-splitting roar. The sound reverberated through the forest, sending flocks of birds scattering into the sky. Hermione raised her wand and shouted, "Confundus!"

A shimmering wave of magic shot toward the lead Erumpent, but the spell seemed to have little effect. The creature slowed for only a moment before resuming its charge.

"Great plan, Granger!" Draco panted. "You’ve confused it into being even angrier!"

"Would you like to try something better?" Hermione snapped.

Draco fired a Lumos Maxima spell behind them, creating a bright flash of light. The Erumpents hesitated, their sensitive eyes dazzled by the sudden burst. Taking advantage of the distraction, Hermione grabbed Draco’s arm and veered off the path, heading for a massive tree with a hollow base.

"In here!" she ordered, dragging him into the hollow.

They ducked inside, panting heavily. The space was cramped, and Draco’s knees bumped against Hermione’s as they tried to catch their breath. Outside, the sound of the Erumpents’ stomping grew fainter until it disappeared altogether.

Draco slumped against the wall of the hollow. "That… was… insane."

"No thanks to you," Hermione muttered, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "You practically invited them to chase us."

"Me?" Draco shot back. "You’re the one who led us here in the first place!"

Hermione glared at him but decided it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small, leafy creature. Tiny blinked sleepily and stretched its twiggy arms.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why do you have a pet stick?"

"Tiny is not a pet," Hermione said sharply. "He’s a Bowtruckle. Very helpful with locks and navigating trees."

"Brilliant," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe Tiny can cook us dinner too. Because I’m starving."

Hermione ignored him and rummaged through her bag, pulling out a notebook and quill. She began jotting down notes, muttering to herself as she wrote.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked.

"Tallying today’s events," Hermione replied. "It’s important to keep a record of our progress."

Draco snorted. "Progress? We’ve been nearly trampled by Erumpents and chased through the forest. If that’s progress, I’d hate to see failure."

Hermione shot him a withering look. "This is the first day of our journey. Mishaps are bound to happen."

"Mishaps?" Draco repeated incredulously. "Granger, we almost exploded!"

Hermione sighed and went back to her notes, muttering under her breath about patience and perseverance. Tiny climbed onto her shoulder and peered curiously at the notebook, occasionally tapping the quill with his tiny fingers.

Draco leaned back and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when it’s time for the next disaster."

Hermione didn’t respond, too engrossed in her writing. Outside, the forest was silent once more, but the memory of the Erumpents’ wrath lingered, a reminder that their journey had only just begun.

🔍

Draco stirred awake, blinking blearily at the dim glow of the forest around them. The hollow under the massive tree was quiet, save for a soft, melodic hum that reached his ears. He squinted, his mind still groggy, and turned toward the source of the sound.

Hermione was sitting cross-legged by a small fire, her face illuminated by its flickering light. A tiny pot hung over the flames, steam rising as she stirred the contents with a small wooden spoon. Her humming filled the air, a gentle tune that seemed oddly soothing in the otherwise eerie forest. Every now and then, she added a few twigs to the fire, keeping it alive.

Draco sat up slowly, watching as Hermione dipped her spoon into the pot and tasted the soup. She smiled, clearly pleased with her concoction.

What is she so smug about? Draco thought. His stomach growled loudly, shattering the peaceful ambiance.

Hermione’s head snapped toward him, her expression shifting from surprise to amusement. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she said with a smirk. "Didn’t realize you were awake."

Draco scowled, placing a hand over his stomach as though he could silence it. "What are you doing?"

"Making soup," she replied simply, ladling some into a coconut shell she had charmed into a makeshift bowl. She held it up to her nose, inhaling deeply. "Mmm. Delicious."

Draco’s eyes flicked to the pot, and his stomach gave another involuntary growl. Hermione grinned and walked over to him, holding out the coconut bowl. "Here."

He recoiled slightly, raising a hand. "Absolutely not. I don’t eat… servant’s food."

Hermione’s amused expression didn’t waver. "Suit yourself."

She sat back by the fire and took an exaggerated sip of her soup, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Wow, this is amazing. So warm, so comforting. It’s exactly what I needed after today."

Draco’s stomach betrayed him again, growling even louder this time. Hermione’s grin widened as she scooped another spoonful and took her time savoring it.

"You have no idea what you’re missing," she said, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "It’s got the perfect balance of herbs, and the warmth just spreads through your whole body. I already feel energized."

Draco’s mouth twitched. "You’re doing this on purpose."

"Doing what?" Hermione asked, her tone saccharine sweet. She took another animated bite, her eyes fluttering closed as if it were the most divine thing she’d ever tasted.

Draco’s patience snapped. "Fine," he said, snatching the bowl from her hands. "But only because I don’t want you fainting from exhaustion and leaving me to fend for myself."

Hermione’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but she said nothing as Draco took a cautious sip of the soup. His face remained neutral as he swallowed, though his grip on the bowl tightened ever so slightly.

"It’s… acceptable," he muttered after a moment, refusing to meet her gaze. "House-elves could do better in their sleep."

Hermione stifled a laugh, glancing at Tiny, who had perched on her shoulder. The Bowtruckle gave her an approving nod. Together, they raised their hands and slapped a tiny high-five.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What are you two so pleased about?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said airily, taking another spoonful of her soup. "Just celebrating small victories."

Draco rolled his eyes and continued eating, his expression carefully blank. But Hermione caught the way his spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, and she couldn’t help but smile. For all his protests and theatrics, Draco Malfoy had just eaten “servant’s food”—and, judging by his empty bowl, he hadn’t hated it.

—

The forest was eerily quiet, the air cool and thick with the dampness of the late hour. Hermione was crouched by the fire, packing up her belongings with a determination that could rival a dragon’s resolve. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she carefully tucked her notebook and Tiny into her bag.

Draco, still sprawled against the hollow tree, watched her with a mix of confusion and irritation. "Granger," he groaned, "it’s nearly midnight. Normal people sleep at midnight."

Hermione ignored him, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she cinched her bag. "Mooncalves only emerge during the full moon," she said brightly. "This is the perfect time to find a herd. I’m not missing this opportunity."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Can’t you wait until tomorrow? Or, better yet, go on your own and let me sleep?"

She shot him a withering look. "You’re on probation, remember? That means you’re stuck with me. Now, get up."

Draco muttered something under his breath but hauled himself to his feet, brushing dirt off his robes. "This better be worth it," he grumbled.

The two of them set off into the forest, the glow of Hermione’s wand lighting their path. The full moon cast an ethereal light over the trees, and the air was filled with the faint rustle of nocturnal creatures. Draco trailed behind Hermione, dragging his feet and muttering complaints every few steps.

"Do you ever stop whining?" Hermione asked, not bothering to look back.

"Do you ever stop dragging me into danger?" Draco shot back.

"This isn’t dangerous," Hermione said, her tone exasperated. "It’s an observational expedition."

As if on cue, a loud, guttural growl echoed through the forest. Both of them froze, their wands raised. The bushes ahead rustled, and a pair of glowing orange eyes appeared in the darkness.

"Observational expedition, you said?" Draco whispered, his voice high-pitched. "What exactly are we observing now, Granger?"

A massive manticore emerged from the shadows, its scorpion-like tail swishing menacingly. It bared its sharp teeth, letting out a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver down Draco’s spine.

"Don’t make any sudden moves," Hermione whispered, stepping slowly back. "Manticores are highly territorial."

"Brilliant," Draco said through gritted teeth. "Anything else you’d like to share from your encyclopedia of magical beasts?"

The manticore took a step forward, its eyes fixed on them. Hermione’s mind raced. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small vial of powdered moonstone. Holding it up, she whispered, "Stay behind me."

Draco didn’t need to be told twice. He ducked behind Hermione as she uncorked the vial and flung the powder into the air. The shimmering dust sparkled in the moonlight, and the manticore hesitated, sniffing the air.

"It’s a calming agent," Hermione explained quietly. "It might buy us some time."

The manticore snorted, shaking its head as though to rid itself of the powder’s effects. It growled again, its tail arching over its back, ready to strike.

"Buying us time for what, exactly?" Draco asked, his voice tinged with panic.

"For this," Hermione said, grabbing his arm and yanking him into a sprint.

They bolted through the forest, the manticore’s enraged roars echoing behind them. Branches clawed at their robes as they ran, Hermione’s grip on Draco’s arm unrelenting. After what felt like an eternity, the roars faded, and they collapsed against a tree, panting.

"Observational expedition," Draco gasped. "You’re mental, Granger."

Hermione didn’t reply, too busy catching her breath. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady. "We’re fine. Let’s keep going."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "Keep going? After that?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "We’re close to the mooncalves’ habitat."

Reluctantly, Draco followed her, grumbling under his breath. They hadn’t gone far when Hermione’s attention was caught by a glimmer of light in the distance. She squinted, her heart racing. "Malfoy, look."

He followed her gaze to a golden glow flickering through the trees. "What is that?"

"A Firebird," Hermione whispered, her excitement returning. "They’re incredibly rare. We have to get closer."

They crept toward the light, their steps cautious. The Firebird’s shimmering feathers were unmistakable, its glow illuminating the clearing where it perched. Hermione’s breath caught. "It’s beautiful," she whispered.

But their awe was short-lived. As they approached, the Firebird let out a warning screech and took off, its glow fading into the night. Before they could react, the ground beneath them rumbled. Hermione’s eyes widened as she realized what they’d stumbled into.

"Malfoy," she said, her voice trembling. "Those aren’t rocks."

He looked down and paled. The "rocks" were actually dragon eggs, and they were surrounded by at least three fully grown dragons. One of them, a massive Hungarian Horntail, fixed its gaze on them and let out a deafening roar.

Draco held up his hands, his expression panicked but attempting to be suave. "Wait! I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy. My name literally means dragon! We’re practically family!"

The Horntail roared again, its nostrils flaring as smoke billowed out.

"Oh, brilliant," Hermione muttered, yanking Draco back as the dragon’s tail slammed into the ground where he’d been standing. "Let me handle this."

Hermione stepped forward, her posture confident. She raised her wand and spoke with authority. "By order of the Ministry for Magic, I am a certified dragon nanny. Regulation 347-B states that all nesting dragons must allow Ministry officials to ensure the safety of their eggs."

The dragons hesitated, their heads tilting as though considering her words. Draco gaped at her. "Dragon nanny? Regulation 347-B? You made that up!"

"Do you want to argue, or do you want to live?" Hermione hissed.

The Horntail growled low but seemed to back off slightly, its piercing eyes still watching them. Hermione grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him away slowly. "Don’t run," she whispered. "Walk."

They moved cautiously until the dragons were out of sight. Only then did they break into a sprint, not stopping until they were far from the clearing.

Draco collapsed against a tree, his face pale. "That was…"

"Brilliant?" Hermione supplied, smirking.

"I was going to say insane," Draco muttered, "but sure, let’s go with brilliant."

Hermione grinned, adjusting her bag. "Come on, Malfoy. The night’s not over yet."

Draco groaned but followed her, muttering about dragon nannies and Ministry regulations as they disappeared into the forest.

As the pair continued deeper into the forest, Hermione couldn’t help but recount the encounter aloud. "Honestly, Malfoy, you were this close to getting fried. Did you really think announcing your name would earn you points with a dragon?"

Draco sneered. "You’re just jealous they didn’t incinerate me on the spot. Clearly, I have an innate charm even dragons recognize."

Hermione snorted. "Yes, that’s exactly what happened. Or maybe they were just baffled by your idiocy."

Draco gave a theatrical shrug. "I’ll let history decide."

Despite the banter, the forest felt less intimidating as the moon climbed higher. The soft rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of insects filled the silence between their conversations. The possibility of encountering mooncalves drove Hermione forward with renewed excitement, while Draco trudged behind, keeping an eye out for more calamities.

"How much further, Granger?" Draco finally asked, stifling a yawn. "This better not be another wild goose chase."

Hermione held up the enchanted map she’d retrieved from her bag. "Not far now. According to this, the mooncalves should be in a clearing just beyond these trees."

They pushed through a dense thicket, emerging into a wide-open glade bathed in moonlight. Hermione’s face lit up as she spotted movement—silvery, ethereal creatures bounding across the grass with fluid grace. "There they are!" she whispered, her voice brimming with awe.

The mooncalves were breathtaking. Their smooth, pale blue skin shimmered like starlight, and their large, glowing eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages. Hermione crouched down, observing them with a mixture of reverence and curiosity. Tiny peeked out from her bag, chirping softly in approval.

Draco, however, remained unimpressed. "They’re just big, glowing cows," he muttered, earning a glare from Hermione. "What? I’m just saying—"

He was cut off by a loud snap from the trees behind them. Both of them whipped around, wands at the ready. A shadowy figure loomed just beyond the clearing, its glowing eyes and low growl unmistakable.

"Oh, for the love of… not again," Draco groaned. "Granger, if that’s another manticore…"

"Quiet," Hermione hissed, her heart pounding. "It’s not a manticore."

The creature stepped into the moonlight, revealing its sleek, serpentine body and iridescent scales. It was a Runespoor, its three heads snapping and hissing in unison. One head glared at them, another sniffed the air curiously, while the third—presumably the planner—seemed to be calculating its next move.

"A Runespoor," Hermione whispered, her voice tinged with both fascination and dread. "They’re not usually aggressive, but we’ve probably startled it."

Draco’s face paled. "Fantastic. And what’s the plan this time, dragon nanny?"

Hermione didn’t answer, instead raising her wand and murmuring a soft incantation. A faint mist spread through the air, masking their scent. "Back away slowly," she instructed. "Don’t make any sudden movements."

Draco followed her lead, his footsteps careful and deliberate. The Runespoor’s planner head narrowed its eyes but didn’t strike. As they reached the edge of the clearing, Draco whispered, "Let’s agree never to speak of this again."

Hermione gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Agreed. Now let’s get out of here before we meet its mate."