HIDDEN PATHS
The air in the Black Forest was heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine. Hermione Granger adjusted her scarf as she and Draco Malfoy trudged along the narrow path, their boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. Tiny, her bowtruckle, perched on her shoulder, peering curiously at their surroundings.
“Are you sure the sighting was credible?” Draco asked, his voice laced with skepticism.
“It’s the most recent report,” Hermione replied, consulting a worn parchment map dotted with magical markings. “And snallygasters are notoriously hard to track. We need to investigate every lead.”
Draco muttered something under his breath about the Ministry sending them on a wild goose chase, but he followed her regardless.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, the trees began to thin, revealing an eerie scene ahead. Smoke curled lazily into the grey sky, and the faint scent of ash reached their noses.
“What’s that?” Draco stopped, pointing toward what looked like the remnants of a village. They exchanged a glance before quickening their pace.
The village was a ghostly tableau. Roofs were caved in, walls blackened with soot, and the ground littered with debris. Hermione’s heart sank as she took in the desolation. The silence was unnerving; not even the wind dared to disturb the eerie stillness.
“It’s like a dragon attack,” Draco remarked, examining a scorch mark on a crumbled wall. “But there aren’t any dragons in this region.”
“No,” Hermione agreed, crouching to inspect a pile of charred wood. She ran her fingers over the edges, noticing strange claw-like grooves. “This is something else. Look at these marks. Snallygaster talons, perhaps?”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Or a very large cat with anger issues.”
She ignored him, standing and scanning the area. “We should search for survivors or clues.”
They split up, each taking a different side of the village. Hermione moved cautiously, her wand gripped tightly in her hand. Tiny chirped nervously, and she gave him a reassuring pat. She pushed open the door of a house that had somehow remained standing. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of smoke. Furniture lay overturned, and a thick layer of ash coated the floor. There was no sign of life.
Draco’s voice echoed from outside. “Anything?”
“Nothing,” Hermione called back, stepping out and brushing ash from her robes.
Draco emerged from another building, shaking his head. “It’s like everyone just vanished. No bodies, no tracks, nothing.”
They reconvened in what seemed to be the village square. Hermione’s brows furrowed in thought. “The snallygaster is said to attack livestock, not villages. This doesn’t make sense.”
Draco crossed his arms, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “Whatever did this might still be around. We should be on our guard.”
As if in response, a distant, guttural screech pierced the air. The sound made Hermione’s blood run cold. Tiny squealed, scuttling to hide in her hair.
“Well,” Draco said, his tone sardonic but his wand at the ready, “it seems our suspect isn’t far.”
Hermione tightened her grip on her wand, her pulse quickening. “Let’s find out what we’re dealing with.”
Together, they headed toward the source of the noise, the mystery of the village fueling their determination.
The forest seemed darker as they left the eerie, abandoned village behind, the guttural screech echoing in their memories. The silence of the place weighed heavily on Hermione and Draco as they pressed on through the dense undergrowth of the Black Forest. Branches clawed at their cloaks, and the occasional rustle in the bushes kept them on edge.
It was Hermione who broke the tension first. “Did you see those claw marks?” she asked, her eyes scanning the path ahead. Tiny peeked out from her hair, still jittery from earlier.
“Hard to miss,” Draco replied dryly. “Let’s hope whatever left them is long gone.”
Hermione ignored his remark and forged ahead. She paused when the forest suddenly opened into a small clearing bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight. There, grazing quietly, were three creatures unlike anything Draco had seen before. They resembled deer, but their antlers shimmered like crystal, catching the moonlight in dazzling displays. Their fur seemed to ripple with faint, magical energy.
“Aurum cervos,” Hermione whispered in awe, her eyes lighting up as she reached for her journal. “They’re native to this region. They’re said to bring luck to anyone who sees them.”
“Luck would be them not trampling us,” Draco muttered, but he watched Hermione with a hint of amusement as she scribbled furiously in her journal, occasionally glancing up to observe the creatures.
“This is incredible,” Hermione said, her voice tinged with excitement. “I’ve only read about them in magical fauna compendiums. They’re so much more beautiful in person.”
The aurum cervos eventually wandered off into the forest, their luminous antlers vanishing into the shadows. Hermione closed her journal with a satisfied sigh. “Come on, we should find a place to rest. It’s getting late.”
Draco glanced at the darkening sky and nodded. “Fine, but don’t expect me to eat whatever peasant rations you’ve packed.”
They resumed their trek, but before long, they stumbled upon another surprise. A trio of small, glowing orbs darted through the trees, zipping back and forth like oversized fireflies. As they got closer, Hermione realized they were wisp sprites, tiny winged creatures that emitted a soft, golden light.
“Wisp sprites!” Hermione exclaimed, her excitement palpable. She opened her journal again, scribbling as she watched them flit about. “They’re incredibly rare. They’re said to guide lost travelers to safety… or to their doom, depending on their mood.”
“Charming,” Draco said, ducking as one zipped past his ear. “And here I thought the Ministry sent us on a beast hunt, not a fairy chase.”
“They’re not fairies,” Hermione corrected sharply, though her eyes remained fixed on the sprites. “They’re an entirely different classification of magical being.”
Draco sighed dramatically. “Of course they are.”
The wisp sprites eventually disappeared into the trees, leaving Hermione beaming with satisfaction. They hadn’t gone much farther when a low growl stopped them in their tracks. Emerging from the shadows was a sleek, panther-like creature with fur that shimmered like liquid silver. Its eyes glowed a piercing green, and it moved with a predatory grace.
“A shadowlynx,” Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Draco glanced at her, unimpressed. “It’s a cat. I’ve owned scarier ones.”
The shadowlynx fixed its glowing eyes on them, its tail flicking ominously. Hermione slowly reached into her bag and tossed a chunk of bread far to the side. The creature’s ears twitched, and after a tense moment, it padded off to investigate the food.
“Smart,” Draco admitted begrudgingly as they hurried past. “Though I doubt your bread counts as a proper meal for anything, even a magical predator.”
“You’re welcome,” Hermione shot back, rolling her eyes.
As the forest grew darker, the sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the air. Just as they were about to give up on finding a resting spot, they encountered yet another wonder: a small herd of mooncalves emerged from a thicket, their enormous, round eyes reflecting the moonlight. They hopped and twirled in an odd, graceful dance, leaving faintly glowing footprints behind.
“Oh, look at them!” Hermione said, her voice hushed with delight. She hurriedly sketched their movements in her journal. “A mooncalf dance. It’s a sign of good fortune.”
Draco leaned against a tree, watching the spectacle with a bemused expression. “I suppose this is the part where you tell me to make a wish or something equally sentimental.”
“You could use some good fortune,” Hermione retorted, not looking up from her sketch.
The mooncalves eventually bounded away, leaving the pair to finally settle down for the night. Hermione set down her bag and began unpacking. Draco, meanwhile, looked skeptically at the small pile of food Hermione produced.
“Is that… bread?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.
“It’s a perfectly good loaf,” Hermione replied. “And these are freshly made sandwiches. If you don’t want them, don’t eat them.”
Draco rolled his eyes but took a sandwich anyway, biting into it with exaggerated reluctance. “Servant’s fare,” he mumbled, though he finished the sandwich quickly enough.
Hermione ignored him and rummaged through her bag, pulling out a small, neatly folded tent. She set it on the ground, waved her wand, and it unfolded into a modest two-person tent. Draco’s eyebrows shot up.
“That’s it?” he asked incredulously. “That’s what we’re sleeping in?”
“It’s perfectly adequate,” Hermione said, already ducking inside to arrange her things.
Draco, however, wasn’t convinced. “A Malfoy doesn’t do ‘adequate.’ Stand back.”
Hermione barely had time to protest before Draco drew his wand and aimed it at the tent. “Engorgio!” he declared confidently.
Instead of expanding, the tent shrank until it was no larger than a dollhouse. Hermione stared at it in disbelief, then turned to Draco, who looked equally horrified.
“Oh, brilliant,” Hermione said, crossing her arms. “Now we don’t even have a tent.”
Draco ran a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. “It was supposed to make it bigger! How was I supposed to know it’d do that?”
“Because you didn’t check the spell before casting it,” Hermione snapped. “Honestly, haven’t you learned anything?”
Draco glared at her but said nothing. With no other option, Hermione transfigured a nearby log into a hammock large enough for two and suspended it between two sturdy trees. The effort left her slightly winded, but she refused to show it.
“There,” she said, brushing her hands off. “It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.”
Draco eyed the hammock warily. “You expect me to sleep in that?”
“Unless you’d prefer the ground,” Hermione retorted.
Grumbling, Draco climbed into the hammock, and Hermione followed, trying to balance as it swayed precariously. They lay side by side, the proximity uncomfortably close. The stars twinkled above them, their light filtering through the branches of the canopy. The faint chirping of crickets filled the air, accompanied by the occasional hoot of an owl.
“Do you always sleep like you’re fighting an invisible troll?” Draco complained, shifting as Hermione’s elbow jabbed into his side.
“Do you always snore like a dragon choking on its own fire?” Hermione shot back, turning on her side to face away from him.
“I do not snore,” Draco said indignantly.
“You absolutely do,” Hermione muttered.
The hammock swayed as they adjusted, each trying to carve out a semblance of personal space. Despite the bickering, a certain warmth settled between them, born of shared discomfort and the absurdity of their situation. Draco found himself hyper aware of Hermione’s presence, her quiet breathing steadying as she relaxed. The closeness was unfamiliar, but not entirely unpleasant.
“You know,” Draco said after a long silence, his voice softer than usual, “you’re awfully bossy for someone who just made me eat bread.”
Hermione smirked, her eyes still closed. “And you’re awfully whiny for someone who didn’t pack their own provisions.”
Draco’s response was a noncommittal grunt. He turned his gaze upward, watching the stars blink in the velvety expanse. For the first time in what felt like forever, the tensions of their situation seemed to fade, leaving behind a strange, fragile peace.
“Unbelievable,” he whispered to himself, before finally closing his eyes.
Hermione woke up to the gentle rustling of leaves and the first rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy above. For a moment, she felt completely at peace, the stresses of the journey temporarily forgotten. Then she became acutely aware of two things: the warmth beneath her cheek and the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her.
Her eyes widened as reality settled in. She was nestled against Draco Malfoy, her head resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped securely around her waist. She froze, her mind racing. When had they ended up like this? The last thing she remembered was drifting off to sleep in the hammock, trying to keep as much distance as possible from her infuriating companion. And yet, here she was, practically entwined with him.
It didn’t help that up close, Draco was… well, annoyingly handsome. His sharp features look softer in the early morning light, his usually guarded expression replaced by one of serene vulnerability. A lock of platinum-blond hair had fallen across his forehead, and Hermione had the sudden, irrational urge to brush it away. She mentally kicked herself. What was she thinking?
As if sensing her thoughts, Draco stirred. His brow furrowed slightly before his grey eyes fluttered open. For a brief moment, he looked disoriented, his gaze locking onto hers.
“Granger?” he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep. Then, as realization dawned, his eyes widened in shock.
Panic surged through Hermione. Without thinking, she shoved him away, causing the hammock to lurch violently. Draco tumbled out with a loud thud, landing unceremoniously on the forest floor.
“What the bloody hell, Granger?!” he snapped, glaring up at her as he rubbed his shoulder. “Was that really necessary?”
Hermione, her cheeks flaming, scrambled out of the hammock. “There was a spider,” she blurted, avoiding his gaze. “On your shoulder. Big one. Really hairy. You’re welcome.”
Draco stared at her, clearly unconvinced. “A spider. Right. Because that’s a perfectly reasonable excuse for assaulting someone first thing in the morning.”
She didn’t reply, instead busying herself with smoothing down her hair and adjusting her clothes. “We should get moving,” she said briskly, refusing to meet his eyes. “There’s likely a stream or a pond nearby where we can freshen up. It’ll be easier to keep tracking magical creatures if we’re… clean.”
Draco stood, dusting himself off with exaggerated irritation. “Oh, wonderful. A morning dip in freezing water. Just what I always wanted.”
“It won’t kill you, Malfoy,” Hermione said, her tone sharper than she intended. She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grateful to have something to focus on other than the embarrassing moment they’d just shared.
Draco smirked, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Are you always this cheerful in the mornings, or is this a special treat just for me?”
Hermione ignored him, marching ahead. She had no idea where the nearest body of water might be, but she figured following the sound of birds and the general downhill slope of the terrain was a good start. Behind her, she could hear Draco muttering something about spiders and hammocks, but she tuned him out.
The forest was alive with activity now that the sun had risen fully. Birds flitted from branch to branch, their songs mingling with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Tiny, who had been nestled in Hermione’s bag, peeked out and chirped, clearly enjoying the morning air.
“You’re lucky, you know,” Draco said from behind her, breaking the silence. “If I’d fallen on my wand, it would’ve been your fault.”
“Oh, please,” Hermione shot back. “Your wand’s fine. And so are you.”
“Debatable,” Draco muttered, but he didn’t press the issue further.
After about twenty minutes of walking, they heard the unmistakable sound of running water. Hermione quickened her pace, and soon they emerged into a clearing where a crystal-clear stream wound its way through the forest. Sunlight danced on the surface, and the air felt cooler here, fresher.
“There,” Hermione said, setting her bag down by the bank. “We can wash up here.”
Draco looked at the stream with a mixture of disdain and resignation. “Do you at least have soap, or am I supposed to just roll around in the water like some sort of beast?”
Hermione rolled her eyes and rummaged through her bag, producing a small bar of enchanted soap. She tossed it to him, and he caught it with ease. “Happy now?”
“Marginally,” Draco replied, though a small smirk tugged at his lips.
As Hermione knelt by the edge of the stream to splash water on her face, she couldn’t help but steal a glance at Draco. He’d removed his cloak and was rolling up his sleeves, his usual haughty demeanor softened by the quiet morning. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it might be like to see this version of him more often—unarmored, almost human.
She shook the thought away. This was Draco Malfoy, after all. She had no business daydreaming about him, especially not after… whatever that hammock incident had been. Clearing her throat, she focused on the task at hand, determined to keep her mind from wandering any further.
Just as they finished washing up, the water began to ripple unnaturally. Hermione and Draco exchanged wary glances, wands in hand. Suddenly, the surface of the stream erupted, and a sleek, serpentine creature burst forth. Its scales shimmered with iridescent hues, and it let out a playful trill as it swirled around them.
“Kelpie spawn,” Hermione breathed, her eyes wide with both wonder and alarm. “They’re harmless, mostly. They just like to play pranks.”
Draco took a cautious step back. “Define ‘mostly.’ Because it looks like it’s eyeing my hair.”
Before Hermione could reply, the kelpie spawn darted toward Draco, wrapping its slimy, slippery body around his arm. He yelped, flailing as the creature let out another trill, its beady eyes gleaming with mischief. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as Draco attempted to disentangle himself.
“Oh, very funny, Granger,” Draco snapped, finally managing to shake the kelpie spawn off. It splashed back into the water, sending droplets flying everywhere and drenching both of them in the process.
Hermione, still laughing, wiped water from her face. “I think it likes you.”
“Well, the feeling isn’t mutual,” Draco grumbled, wringing out his sleeves. “If you’re done playing Scamander, can we please get out of here before it comes back?”
“Fine,” Hermione said, though her smile lingered as she gathered her things. The kelpie spawn peeked its head above the water one last time, trilling as if to say goodbye before disappearing into the depths. As they walked away, Draco muttered under his breath about never trusting streams again, while Hermione couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter after the amusing encounter.
Hermione and Draco trudged along the forest path, the magical map Hermione clutched glowing faintly to guide them. For once, their journey seemed uneventful. The sun filtered through the canopy above, casting golden beams that danced on the forest floor. Tiny chirped contentedly from Hermione’s shoulder, and even Draco appeared more at ease than usual, his usual sarcastic commentary blessedly absent for the moment.
“This feels suspiciously calm,” Draco remarked after a while, his hands tucked into his pockets. “No homicidal beasts, no collapsing hammocks, no rogue kelpies. It’s almost boring.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, her fingers tracing the markings on the map. “Not every moment has to be a disaster, you know. We could actually enjoy the quiet.”
Draco smirked. “And deprive you of the chance to lecture me about whatever goes wrong? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Hermione ignored him, her attention focused on the glowing trail that zigzagged its way across the parchment. The map’s enchanted ink shimmered as it adjusted to their position, showing their progress toward the last known sighting of the snallygaster. She could feel the anticipation building. Tracking magical creatures was exhilarating, but finding one as elusive as a snallygaster would be a career highlight.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, the rhythmic crunch of their boots the only sound. It was Draco who broke the quiet this time.
“Granger,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically thoughtful. “What exactly are we supposed to find after the snallygaster? Before the qilin, I mean. What other rare and mysterious creatures are we chasing on this wild goose chase of yours?”
Hermione glanced at him, surprised. “Why do you ask? You’ve never seemed particularly interested in magical creatures before.”
Draco shrugged, his expression guarded. “Call it curiosity. If I’m going to be dragged across the globe, I might as well know what we’re looking for.”
Hermione studied him for a moment, as if trying to determine the sincerity of his question. Eventually, she nodded. “Fine. There are quite a few species we’re trying to track and protect. Magical creatures that are endangered because of humans—often because of greed, ignorance, or fear.”
“Like the snallygaster,” Draco prompted, gesturing for her to continue.
“Yes,” Hermione agreed, her voice growing more animated. “The snallygaster’s blood is rumored to have powerful alchemical properties, so poachers are constantly hunting them. But they’re also fascinating creatures. They’ve got reptilian scales, massive wings, and an impressive set of talons. They’re incredibly intelligent, too. If they weren’t so elusive, they’d probably be studied more in-depth, but that would likely put them in even greater danger.”
Draco nodded, his expression thoughtful. “And what else? Surely the snallygaster isn’t the only thing on your Ministry-approved checklist.”
Hermione’s lips twitched, almost smiling. “No, it’s not. There are creatures like the thunderbird, which can summon storms with their wings. They’re native to North America and incredibly majestic. But they’re also hunted for their feathers, which are prized in wandmaking. Then there’s the wampus cat, the graphorn, and the mooncalves… creatures that have been exploited or driven from their habitats because of human activity.”
Draco’s brows furrowed slightly. “And your goal is to… what? Relocate them? Put them in some sort of magical sanctuary?”
“In some cases, yes,” Hermione said, her tone earnest. “But it’s not just about relocating them. It’s about raising awareness and protecting their natural habitats. Magical creatures play a vital role in the ecosystems they’re a part of. If we don’t intervene, some of them could go extinct.”
Draco fell silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “You’re awfully passionate about this,” he observed. “Were you always this obsessed with magical creatures, or is this some newfound crusade?”
Hermione’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she held her head high. “I’ve always cared about them, but I didn’t have the time or resources to do much about it before. After the war, I realized how much of the world still needed fixing. This is just one small part of that.”
Draco’s mouth twitched, his expression unreadable. “And here I thought you just liked bossing people around. Turns out you’re actually trying to save the world.”
Hermione shot him a glare. “I’m not trying to save the world, Malfoy. I’m just trying to do what’s right.”
Draco snorted softly. “Same thing, in your case.”
She chose not to respond, instead focusing on the map again. The glowing trail seemed to shimmer brighter as they neared their destination. Hermione’s heart quickened. If they were lucky, they might spot signs of the snallygaster soon.
“You didn’t answer my earlier question,” Draco said, breaking the silence once more.
Hermione blinked. “Which one?”
“Why are you so obsessed with magical creatures all of a sudden,” he said, his tone lighter but still probing. “Don’t tell me it’s just about doing what’s right. There has to be more to it than that.”
Hermione hesitated, her fingers tightening around the map. “Maybe there is,” she admitted quietly. “Maybe it’s also because… well, after everything that happened during the war, I feel like I owe it to them. To help creatures that can’t defend themselves against the damage we’ve caused.”
Draco looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Guilt, then?”
“Partially,” Hermione said, meeting his gaze. “But also hope. Magical creatures are resilient, Draco. They adapt, they survive. If we can protect them, it’s proof that maybe we can rebuild what we’ve lost.”
For once, Draco didn’t have a snide remark. He simply nodded, his eyes thoughtful as he stared ahead.
The path grew steeper as they climbed a gentle slope, the map’s glow intensifying. Hermione couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement despite the weight of their conversation. Maybe they weren’t so different, after all. Both of them were trying to make sense of a world that had been forever changed.
Draco broke the silence with a smirk. “You know, if you’re trying to inspire me to become a champion for magical creatures, it’s not working.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, but there was a trace of a smile on her lips. “I’ll take what I can get.”
As they continued their journey, the forest seemed to hum with life around them, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to protect. Whatever challenges lay ahead, Hermione knew she wouldn’t face them alone—even if her companion happened to be the most insufferable wizard she’d ever met.