Accio, Love!

The sun hung low on the horizon as Hermione and Draco stepped into the Bounty Magical Forest. Towering trees with shimmering leaves surrounded them, their trunks gnarled with age. The air thrummed with energy, and every rustle of the underbrush hinted at the magical creatures that called this place home.

“Watch where you’re stepping, Malfoy,” Hermione said, her eyes scanning the treetops. “This forest is teeming with life, and we don’t want to disrupt their habitats.”

Draco rolled his eyes but followed her lead, carefully avoiding the roots snaking across the forest floor. “Relax, Granger. I’m not stomping through here like a troll. Besides, shouldn’t your little twig buddy be scouting for us?” He motioned toward Tiny, Hermione’s bowtruckle, who was perched on her shoulder.

“Tiny is here for guidance, not as a scout,” Hermione replied tersely. Tiny squeaked indignantly, as if offended by Draco’s suggestion. “And you’d do well to respect him. Bowtruckles have an incredible sense of danger.”

“Right,” Draco muttered, brushing a low-hanging branch out of his way. “Because a twig is going to save us from a rogue thunderbird.”

Hermione ignored him, focusing instead on the forest’s subtle signs. They were here for one purpose: to find the thunderbird, a legendary creature capable of summoning storms. Reports of sightings in the Bounty Magical Forest had been rare but consistent enough to warrant an investigation.

As they pushed deeper into the woods, a voice called out, stopping them in their tracks.

“Visitors in my forest? What brings you here?”

A man stepped out from behind a massive tree, his appearance as wild as the forest itself. His hair was a tangle of silvery strands, and his robes were patched with various animal hides. He carried a staff adorned with feathers and beads, and his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” Hermione said quickly, extending her hand. “Magizoologist with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And this is my—”

“Assistant,” Draco interjected with a smirk. “Draco Malfoy. Pleasure.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, but he accepted Hermione’s handshake. “Gideon Wildthorn,” he introduced himself. “I’ve been studying the creatures of this forest for decades. If it’s the thunderbird you’re after, you’ve come to the right place.”

Hermione’s face lit up. “You’ve seen it, Sir? Or found traces of it?”

Gideon nodded, beckoning them to follow him. “Not seen it, but there’s evidence of its presence—massive scorch marks on trees and bursts of static energy in the air. I’ll show you.”

As they walked, Gideon shared his observations about the forest’s ecosystem. Magical creatures darted in and out of sight: glowing fairies flitted between branches, and a herd of mooncalves grazed in a clearing. Tiny chirped excitedly, pointing out a group of bowtruckles gathered on a distant tree.

Draco watched them warily. “They don’t look like they’d take kindly to intruders.”

“They’re protective of their trees,” Gideon explained. “You’re safe as long as you don’t try to harvest wand wood.”

“I’ll make sure Malfoy keeps his hands to himself,” Hermione said with a small smile.

Draco scoffed. “I’m hardly in the market for wand wood, Granger.”

As they ventured deeper, the atmosphere grew heavier, the air crackling with latent magic. Gideon paused by a tree that had been split in half, its bark scorched black.

“This is the thunderbird’s work,” he said, running a hand over the charred wood. “It releases lightning when it feels threatened or agitated.”

Hermione examined the tree with fascination, her fingers brushing the edges of the scorch marks. “Incredible. The energy residue is still strong. This must have been recent.”

Draco, meanwhile, glanced around nervously. “So, what’s the plan if we actually find it? I’d rather not be turned into a pile of ash.”

“We’re not capturing it, Malfoy,” Hermione said firmly. “We’re observing, documenting, and ensuring its habitat is protected.”

Gideon nodded in agreement. “The thunderbird is a symbol of balance. It keeps the ecosystem here in check. But that balance is under threat.”

He grew somber as they continued walking, his voice lowering. “There’s been a rise in poachers and black-market traders. Rare creatures like the thunderbird are highly sought after—for their feathers, their abilities, even their blood.”

Hermione’s heart sank. “That’s horrible. These creatures are meant to be admired, not exploited.”

“It gets worse,” Gideon said grimly. “Some traders don’t even keep the creatures alive. They kill them to make potions or artifacts. The thunderbird’s feathers are said to enhance weather-altering spells, and its blood can supposedly grant visions of the future. It’s all nonsense, of course, but people will believe anything if it’s rare enough.”

Hermione clenched her fists. “It’s barbaric. These creatures deserve better.”

Draco glanced at her, surprised by the intensity in her voice. For all her irritating know-it-all tendencies, her passion for protecting magical creatures was undeniable. He cleared his throat. “So, what can we do to stop them? Surely the Ministry has some kind of enforcement.”

“Not enough,” Hermione admitted. “That’s why this mission is so important. If we can document these creatures and their habitats, we can push for stronger protections.”

Gideon nodded approvingly. “You’ve got the right idea, Ms. Granger. Awareness is the first step.”

As they continued their trek, Gideon regaled them with tales of his encounters with poachers and the efforts of local wizards to protect the forest. Hermione listened intently, her determination growing with every story. Draco, while less openly invested, found himself strangely drawn to the conversation. The idea of risking one’s life for a cause was foreign to him, but he couldn’t deny its appeal—especially when Hermione spoke with such conviction.

They eventually reached a clearing where the ground was littered with broken branches and feathers that shimmered with an iridescent glow.

“This is it,” Gideon said quietly. “A thunderbird’s resting site.”

Hermione knelt to examine the feathers, her expression a mixture of awe and sadness. “It’s magnificent. But it’s also vulnerable.”

Draco stood beside her, uncharacteristically serious. “So, what now?”

“Now,” Hermione said, standing and brushing off her hands, “we follow the trail. If we can confirm the thunderbird’s location and ensure it’s safe, that’s a step in the right direction.”

“And if we run into poachers?” Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Then we deal with them,” Hermione said firmly, her eyes blazing with resolve.

Gideon chuckled. “You’ve got fire, Ms. Granger. I like that. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. The thunderbird is more than capable of defending itself.”

As the three of them prepared to move on, the sky above them darkened. A low rumble of thunder echoed through the forest, and the air grew electric.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “It’s close.”

Draco swallowed hard, his hand instinctively moving to his wand. “Great. Just what I needed—a storm to top off this delightful day.”

“Stay calm,” Gideon advised, his voice steady. “The thunderbird can sense emotions. If we approach with respect, we’ll be fine.”

Hermione nodded, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. “Let’s find it. For the thunderbird, and for every creature that needs protecting.”

And with that, they stepped into the storm.

The air thickened, and the crackle of magic grew unbearable as the thunderbird revealed itself. It emerged from the swirling storm clouds above, its wings stretching wide, each feather an iridescent blend of gold, silver, and cobalt. Electricity danced along its body, lighting up the darkened forest. Its massive wings beat rhythmically, summoning gusts of wind that bent trees to their will, scattering leaves like confetti.

Hermione stared, awe-struck. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, barely audible over the storm.

“Beautiful?” Draco shouted, shielding his face from the swirling debris. “It’s a bloody tempest on wings! This thing could roast us alive!”

The thunderbird’s glowing eyes locked onto the trio, its gaze piercing and intelligent. With a screech that echoed like a thunderclap, it flapped its wings again, unleashing another torrent of wind. Sparks crackled in the air around them, setting the tips of nearby trees alight.

“Stay calm!” Gideon called out, his voice steady. “The thunderbird is testing us. If we mean no harm, it won’t attack.”

“Testing us?” Draco snapped, his grip tightening on his wand. “I didn’t sign up for magical judgment day!”

Hermione took a cautious step forward, her hand raised as though to soothe the creature. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice soft but clear. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help.”

The thunderbird tilted its head, regarding her curiously. Its enormous body shimmered with energy, and the storm seemed to pause, the winds dying down to a faint whisper.

Draco edged closer to Hermione, his wand still drawn. “Granger, if this thing decides you’re not as charming as you think you are, what’s the plan?”

“There’s no plan, Malfoy,” Hermione said, her eyes never leaving the thunderbird. “We’re not fighting it. We’re earning its trust.”

Draco muttered something about Gryffindors and their reckless bravery but didn’t move away.

As the thunderbird lowered itself to the ground, its talons crackling against the earth, Draco turned to Hermione. “You do realize this thing belongs in Arizona, don’t you? Not in the middle of this forest.”

“Arizona isn’t safe anymore,” Gideon interjected, stepping up beside them. His tone was somber. “Poachers have destroyed their natural habitats there. Fires, traps, and dark magic—it’s driven them away. The thunderbird had no choice but to flee.”

Hermione’s face hardened. “That’s horrible. These creatures are meant to roam free, not run for their lives.”

Gideon nodded. “This forest is one of the few places left with the right conditions for a thunderbird. But even here, it’s not entirely safe. Poachers are everywhere.”

The thunderbird let out another screech, its wings spreading wide as if in agreement. The storm above flickered, lightning flashing in the distance. Hermione stepped closer, her hand outstretched.

“Malfoy,” she said calmly, her voice cutting through the tension, “grab my journal and the magical camera from my bag.”

“What?” Draco blinked at her, incredulous. “You want me to dig through that monstrosity of a bag while you cozy up to the stormbird?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly, tossing her beaded bag in his direction. “Hurry. I need to document this.”

Draco caught the bag with a grunt. “Do you have any idea how much rubbish you keep in here? This is going to take ages.”

“Figure it out, Malfoy,” she replied, inching closer to the thunderbird. Her focus never wavered as she spoke soothingly to the creature. “You’re safe now,” she murmured. “We’re here to help you.”

Gideon chuckled as Draco fumbled with the bag, pulling out random objects in frustration. “Are you sure he’s your assistant?” Gideon asked Hermione, his tone amused. “Because he’s not very convincing.”

“I am not her assistant!” Draco snapped, pulling out a book, a scarf, and what looked like a jar of potion ingredients. “And what even is half this stuff?”

Hermione, ignoring both of them, continued her slow approach. “Just find it, Malfoy,” she said, her voice steady. “And don’t break anything.”

Draco muttered under his breath as he rummaged through the seemingly endless contents of the bag. “This is ridiculous. Who carries an entire apothecary around with them? And—oh, Merlin, is that a pair of dragonhide gloves? Why do you even need those?”

“Focus, Malfoy!” Hermione called over her shoulder, her eyes locked on the thunderbird.

“Found the journal,” Draco said triumphantly, holding it up. “Now where’s the blasted camera?”

The thunderbird shifted its weight, watching Hermione with cautious curiosity. Sparks of electricity crackled along its feathers, but it didn’t appear hostile. Hermione crouched slightly, her movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to spook the majestic creature.

“Ah-ha!” Draco finally pulled out the magical camera, its brass casing gleaming faintly. “Got it. You’re welcome.”

“Bring it here,” Hermione said, her voice low. “Carefully.”

Draco made his way toward her, muttering the whole time. “This is madness. Absolute madness. I swear, if we survive this, you owe me a drink.”

Gideon, still standing back, chuckled again. “You’re braver than you look, Mr. Malfoy. Or just very smitten.”

Draco shot him a glare. “I’m not smitten! I’m just—just trying to avoid being fried to a crisp, thank you very much.”

Hermione barely acknowledged the exchange, too focused on the thunderbird. When Draco reached her side, she took the camera and journal, setting the latter on the ground and adjusting the camera’s settings.

“Hold still,” she murmured to the thunderbird, raising the camera. The creature tilted its head, its glowing eyes reflecting the lens. Hermione snapped a few photos, the camera emitting soft flashes of light. The thunderbird didn’t flinch, as though it understood her intentions.

“This is incredible,” Hermione whispered, her voice filled with awe. She jotted a few notes in her journal, then handed the camera back to Draco. “Hold this for me.”

“Unbelievable,” Draco muttered, taking the camera. “I’m a glorified pack mule now.”

Hermione smiled faintly but didn’t respond. She turned her attention back to the thunderbird, stepping even closer. The creature’s feathers shimmered, and a soft rumble of thunder echoed around them.

“You’re safe,” Hermione said again, her voice barely above a whisper. “No one will hurt you here.”

The thunderbird lowered its head slightly, as if acknowledging her words. For a moment, the storm above stilled, the clouds parting just enough for a beam of sunlight to shine through. Hermione reached out a hand, her fingers inches from the thunderbird’s beak.

Draco held his breath, watching the scene unfold. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of admiration for Hermione’s courage—and her stubborn determination.

“Granger,” he said softly, “you really are mad.”

Hermione glanced back at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “Maybe. But it’s worth it.”

The thunderbird let out a low, rumbling coo, a sound like distant thunder. Hermione’s smile widened, her heart swelling with a mixture of relief and triumph.

The “stormbird” had accepted her.

Fascination wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the emotion Draco felt as he watched Hermione reach out to stroke the thunderbird’s shimmering plumage. Her hand moved gently, her touch reverent, as though she were handling the most delicate artifact in the world. He would never admit it, of course, but he was utterly spellbound—not by the thunderbird, but by her.

“Extraordinary,” Hermione murmured, running her fingers along the golden feathers that lined the thunderbird’s wing. It cooed softly, electricity still crackling faintly across its body, though the storm above had quieted.

Draco stood a few paces behind her, the magical camera dangling loosely in his hand. He’d never seen her like this—utterly immersed in her element, her focus unshakable. She was glowing with excitement, her energy infectious. He could almost understand why Gideon looked so impressed with her.

Not that Draco would admit any of this.

Hermione snapped a few more photos with deft precision, adjusting the lens to capture every angle of the thunderbird. Its feathers sparkled as the light hit them, refracting colors that seemed otherworldly. She scribbled furiously in her journal, her quill scratching against the parchment as she muttered to herself.

“Look at these markings,” she said aloud, gesturing to the thunderbird’s wing. “This pattern suggests it’s a male, likely several decades old, but still in its prime. Incredible.”

Draco smirked. “You’re not planning on asking it for a date, are you, Granger?”

Hermione shot him a glare, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. “Don’t be ridiculous, Malfoy. This is important data.”

Gideon chuckled as he stepped closer, holding a small pouch. “Here,” he said, pulling out a handful of dried magical seeds. “Thunderbirds love these. It’ll help establish trust.”

Hermione stepped aside to let Gideon offer the food. The thunderbird regarded him for a moment before dipping its beak into his hand. Sparks flared briefly, but the creature seemed content, its stormy aura softening.

“This is a good sign,” Gideon said with a smile. “Feeding it creates a bond. It knows we mean no harm.”

Hermione nodded, her gaze darting toward the surrounding trees. Her brow furrowed slightly. “If poachers were here before, there might still be traps. I need to check the area.”

Draco groaned. “Of course you do. Merlin forbid we leave the forest without scouring every square inch.”

“Stay here,” she said, brushing past him and heading toward the tree line. Tiny, her ever-loyal bowtruckle, chirped and leaped from her shoulder to inspect a nearby branch.

Gideon gave Draco an amused glance. “You’re awfully quiet, Mr. Malfoy. Thunderbird got your tongue?”

“I’m just letting Granger do her thing,” Draco muttered. “She seems to have it all figured out.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Gideon teased. “Carrying her bag, holding her camera—you’re practically indispensable.”

Draco glared at him. “I am not her "that"assistant.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Gideon replied with a grin.

Meanwhile, Hermione crouched near the base of a tree, examining the ground for signs of tampering. The soil was slightly disturbed, and her fingers traced the faint outlines of a concealed rune. She muttered an incantation, dispelling the faint glow of dark magic that lingered there.

“Thought so,” she said to herself. “A stasis trap. Must have been set weeks ago.”

She continued her search, dismantling a few more traps hidden among the trees. Most were rudimentary—designed to immobilize or injure—but one bore the sinister hallmarks of a more experienced poacher, complete with blood runes etched into the bark.

When Hermione returned, her expression was grim. “I found several traps. Some of them were clearly set by amateurs, but there was one... It was advanced. Whoever set it knew exactly what they were doing.”

Gideon frowned. “That’s troubling. If they come back and realize the thunderbird is here…”

“They won’t,” Hermione said firmly. “Not if we act now.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, red cuff. It gleamed faintly with enchantments, its surface etched with protective runes.

“What’s that?” Draco asked, stepping closer.

“A protection charm,” Hermione explained. “Once I secure this on the thunderbird, it will be officially under the Ministry’s protection. Any attempt to harm or capture it will trigger an alarm, and the Ministry will respond immediately.”

Draco arched an eyebrow. “And you’re sure it’ll actually work?”

“Yes, Malfoy,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t some amateur magic. It’s Ministry-standard.”

She approached the thunderbird cautiously, holding the cuff in her hands. “It’s alright,” she said softly, her tone soothing. “This is to keep you safe.”

The thunderbird tilted its head, its glowing eyes watching her intently. It didn’t resist as she gently secured the cuff around one of its massive talons. The moment it clicked into place, the runes flared briefly before settling into a soft glow.

“There,” Hermione said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “You’re safe now.”

Draco crossed his arms, pretending not to be impressed. “So that’s it, then? You slap a bracelet on it, and suddenly it’s untouchable?”

“It’s more than that,” Hermione said, turning to face him. “This cuff is a symbol. It shows that someone is watching over this creature, that it’s not alone. Sometimes, that’s enough to deter poachers.”

Gideon nodded. “And the magic behind it ensures there are consequences if anyone tries to interfere. It’s a good system—assuming the Ministry holds up its end of the bargain.”

Draco scoffed. “Let’s hope the Ministry is as reliable as you think it is, Granger.”

Hermione didn’t rise to the bait, too focused on the thunderbird. It spread its wings, letting out a low, melodic cry that resonated through the clearing. The storm above seemed to dissipate entirely, sunlight breaking through the clouds.

“Magnificent,” Hermione whispered, her eyes shining.

Draco watched her for a moment, torn between admiration and annoyance. “Alright, Granger. You’ve saved the bird. Can we leave before something else decides to attack us?”

Hermione laughed, the sound light and unguarded. “You’re impossible, Malfoy.”

“And you’re relentless,” he shot back, though there was no real heat in his tone.

Gideon clapped Draco on the shoulder, grinning. “You two make quite the team.”

“We’re not a team,” Draco protested, brushing off his hand. “This is strictly temporary.”

“Of course it is,” Gideon said with a knowing smile.

As they prepared to leave, the thunderbird rose into the air, its powerful wings creating a rush of wind. It circled above them once, letting out a final, echoing cry before disappearing into the sky.

Hermione watched it go, her heart full. “Safe travels,” she whispered.

Draco sighed. “Let’s get out of here before she decides to adopt another creature.”

But as they walked back through the forest, Draco couldn’t shake the image of Hermione standing fearless before the thunderbird, her determination shining brighter than its lightning. And for the first time, he found himself wondering if maybe—just maybe—this mission wasn’t such a waste of time after all.

The forest seemed quieter now. The storm had completely abated, leaving behind an almost magical stillness. The air smelled of rain and electricity, a lingering reminder of the thunderbird’s powerful presence. Hermione, Draco, and Gideon walked together along the winding path back to the forest’s edge, where sunlight streamed through the canopy.

“Well,” Gideon said, breaking the silence. “That was quite the adventure.”

Hermione smiled, her journal tucked tightly under her arm. “I’m just glad we could ensure the thunderbird’s safety. It’s a magnificent creature and deserves to live in peace.”

“Part of the job, right?” Gideon said with a knowing grin. “We magizoologists sure take our work seriously.”

“It’s more than just a job,” Hermione replied, her tone soft but firm. “Protecting creatures like the thunderbird—it’s about preserving magic itself. If we lose them, we lose part of who we are.”

Draco, walking slightly behind, rolled his eyes. “Here we go again with the inspirational speeches.”

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him. “Just because you don’t have a sense of purpose, Malfoy, doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t.”

Draco smirked. “Oh, I have a sense of purpose, Granger. It’s just less… dramatic than yours.”

Gideon chuckled, watching their exchange. “You two are like an old married couple.”

Both Hermione and Draco sputtered in protest.

“Absolutely not,” Hermione said quickly.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Draco added, his expression horrified.

“Alright, alright,” Gideon said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just calling it as I see it.”

As they reached the edge of the forest, Gideon stopped and turned to face them. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Both of you. Securing those traps and marking the thunderbird with the Ministry’s protection—it makes a difference. The forest is a safer place because of your efforts.”

Hermione nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly at the praise. “It’s what we’re here for,” she said. “The thunderbird’s safety is reward enough.”

Draco, however, looked less enthusiastic. “You’re welcome, but let’s not pretend I was here for anything other than surviving Granger’s insanity.”

Hermione glared at him, but Gideon laughed. “You’re a strange pair, I’ll give you that. But effective.”

As they spoke, Gideon led them toward his small, charmed house nestled in the shade of the trees. It was an eccentric structure, with walls covered in creeping ivy and a roof that shimmered faintly as though enchanted to blend in with its surroundings. Magical creatures flitted about—several bowtruckles on the porch, a niffler lounging lazily near a stack of gold coins, and a pair of jobberknolls perched on the roof, their feathers gleaming blue in the sunlight.

“Wait here,” Gideon said, stepping inside. “I’ve got something for you before you head off to your next adventure.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What are the odds he’s about to gift us something completely impractical?”

Hermione ignored him, taking the opportunity to glance around at the various magical creatures wandering near the house. “This place is incredible,” she murmured.

“Sure, if you like living in a magical zoo,” Draco muttered, though his gaze lingered on the niffler as it inspected a shiny buckle on Gideon’s boots left outside the door.

A moment later, Gideon emerged, holding a woven basket brimming with fruits, small vials of potions, and a stack of parchment.

“These should help you on your journey,” he said, handing the basket to Hermione.

“What’s all this?” she asked, peering inside.

“Fruit from the forest for energy,” Gideon explained, “a few healing potions, and some notes I’ve made on magical creatures you might encounter in Poland.”

“Poland?” Draco asked, frowning. “What’s in Poland?”

“Your next destination,” Gideon replied with a wink. “I’ve set up a portkey to take you there.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “That’s where we’ll find the snallygaster,” she said, her excitement evident.

Draco groaned. “Another creature with a ridiculous name. Can’t wait.”

Ignoring him, Hermione turned to Gideon. “Thank you, truly. This will be a huge help.”

Gideon waved off her gratitude. “It’s the least I can do. You’re doing important work, Hermione. Keep at it.”

Draco crossed his arms. “Any chance this portkey takes us to a nice hotel first? I’m not sleeping in another tent.”

Gideon chuckled. “Afraid not. The portkey will take you straight to the Black Forest, where your snallygaster is likely to be found. But don’t worry—I hear it’s lovely this time of year.”

“Lovely,” Draco repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Fantastic.”

Hermione ignored him, her focus on the basket in her hands. She carefully tucked it into her beaded bag, ensuring everything was secure.

Gideon pulled a small, battered tin can from his pocket, holding it up. “This is your portkey. It’s set to activate in thirty seconds, so you’d best get ready.”

Draco sighed. “Another graceful landing coming up.”

“Stop complaining, Malfoy,” Hermione said, stepping closer to the tin can. “This is part of the job.”

As the tin can began to glow faintly, Gideon gave them a final smile. “Good luck out there, you two. Keep an eye out for each other.”

“Always,” Hermione said without hesitation.

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the portkey activated, and the world around them blurred.

The last thing Draco saw was Gideon waving from the edge of the forest, his house shrinking into the distance as they were whisked away to their next adventure.