AN: (Definition from the Harry Potter Lexicon) Imp: is similar to the Pixie and the Fairy. It is about seven inches tall and is colored dull brown or black. Imps live in damp or marshy areas. They have a somewhat slapstick sense of humor and they love to trip people. Imran, James, Max and Patrick make their debut in this chapter as members of an Imp gang. Sorry boys, I just couldn't help myself. Also: The line "Hermione awakens and immediately regrets it" is from Douglas Adams' "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy". Thanks to Seakays, for the fantastic beta!
Chapter 5 - Hidden Oasis
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry steps into the firelight alongside of Dergon. Ron, Pansy and Naya follow close behind. There are three fully-grown male Trolls sitting around the fire, along with two females brewing something malodorous in a cauldron almost the size of the cave they had spent their first night in. Two young Trolls are running about, making a game out of trying to catch a clabbert, a creature resembling a cross between a monkey and a frog. Harry is amazed that he can see their faces, especially in the dim light. In his guise as a werewolf, he has to keep his glasses tucked away. But, surprisingly enough, his vision is completely clear. Harry can only assume that it's because of his new form.
"Dergon, leader of the Lower Swamp Wolf Clan seeking passage through your camp!" Dergon proclaims confidently.
The Trolls are surprised, eyeing them all with vacant, antagonized expressions. Harry and the others are well aware of the fact that Trolls are dreadful, encroaching beasts, with smug attitudes and loud voices. They also aren't known for their elegant manners. One Troll demonstrates this infamy by standing to take a piss next to the fire circle. The largest Troll, a blue one with cracked skin and tired eyes rises and walks towards them.
Dergon stops Harry and Ron from instinctively drawing their wands.
"What give us?" the beast grumbles, proper English also not being a valued skill among his kind.
The small Trolls have given up on catching the clabbert, and run behind the two female Trolls so they can safely ogle the outsiders.
"We offer you alliance with our clan," Dergon says.
The other two male Trolls laugh, and slap each other on the backs. Ron gives Harry a look of dismay.
"This may not go as I'd hoped," Dergon whispers to the two young men.
The largest Troll takes a step closer. "Girl!!" the Troll says, pointing to Pansy.
Dergon and Naya eye Pansy pityingly, looking over at Harry and Ron for an answer.
"They want Pansy?" Harry asks.
"Sure, no prob-" Ron begins, cut off by a jab to the side from Harry.
The largest Troll is beating on his chest Impatiently, looking for a response.
"We can't give you the girl," Harry says.
The Troll shakes his head, "No! Want!" Harry realizes the Troll is pointing to Pansy's wrist. "That!" he grunts again. He reaches out to touch the lustrous gold, and Pansy yanks her hand away. The Troll seems irked by her response.
"They want your bracelet, just give it to them Pansy," Ron urges, anxious to get out from downwind of the beast.
"No! This bracelet is very expensive!" she protests, "and Draco had it engraved for me last Christmas."
Ron rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Naya growls at Pansy. Pansy growls back, baring her own fangs.
"I'll get you another one if you give it to him Pansy," Harry pleads.
Pansy sighs, and reluctantly unhooks the tiny latch. She grieves for the loss of the one thing left on her body that makes her feel like she is still a Parkinson.
"Fine, but you are going to have to replace this, Harry."
Harry nods sympathetically. "I promise that I will, as soon as we return."
Pansy hands the bracelet to the Troll who sniffs at it and smiles. He tosses it over to one of the females, who ties it around her finger like a ring. The female Trolls are swooning over the shiny trinket, and neglect their brew for a moment. Pansy muffles a scream as an enormous hand floats to the top of the cauldron. The Troll woman who is wearing Pansy's bracelet beats the appendage back down, shrugging her shoulders and looking over at her companion.
"Pass," says the large Troll, now happy to have made a trade. He grunts in the direction of a tree near the end of the camp. There is the half-decayed body of a Troll dangling from it. They reluctantly walk towards the carcass, then around it.
"Oh God…" Pansy says, turning her head away from the gory scene.
"Lazarus," Dergon says, looking up at the ripped body.
"Who is that?" Harry asks, trying not to stare too long at the empty eyes of the beast.
"He is a Peruvian vipertooth dragon who serves the King and protects the forest. Even his fangs are venomous. This Troll must have committed a traitorous act to be slain by Lazarus. That is why they are devouring him, to show their loyalty," Dergon explains.
"Things just got more interesting," Harry says to Ron as they walk along the edge of the camp, towards the red beginnings of a rising sun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione awakens from her half-sleep, immediately regretting it. She feels seedy. Her mind begins to replay the scene from the night before, and she grimaces as she remembers his serpent-like fingertips tracing a menacing path down the side of her face; stopping at her neck. There is fear, but the feeling she feels most of all is uncertainty. She doesn't know if Harry and Ron are still on their way, and she doesn't have a plan.
Sounds like you have a long and horrible day ahead of you- the tree outside of her window teases-
'Shut up', she thinks angrily, 'If I am going to be your queen you had better learn to respect me'.
The trees grow silent, except for a few angry whispers to themselves.
Edred has laid her dress on the chair by the door. The thought of him having been in her room without her knowing it makes her queasy. She can hear him walking around downstairs as she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Perhaps if you splash some water on your face - the mirror suggests - or maybe have a nice cup of tea-
She is in no mood for chit-chat. She begins to brush her hair, contemplating her situation. The trees had grown silent at her request. She wonders if she were to become Queen, would they have to obey her too? Perhaps the thing she had lost so much sleep over last night was her ticket to freedom. She needed to think.
How could she escape this monster and still live to tell the tale? She has no magical powers without her wand and her voice. The sensible course of action has got to be some sort of strategic retreat. Hermione knows from experience that she cannot count on Harry or Ron to have a well-developed plan when, or if, they arrive to save her.
She is courageous, but foolhardy courage doesn't count as a virtue.
Treachery - the trees hiss again.
'I thought I commanded that you be silent!' she thinks, testing the waters again.
And they listen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dergon doesn't explain how close they are, but Harry can feel a stirring of life nearby. There are whispers and faint noises in the distance. He becomes more anxious as they move through the tall grass towards a hilltop, surrounded by a few oak trees and a small marsh.
We are almost at the center - Hermione's book says excitedly -
The daylight has finally illuminated their path, and they move forward more swiftly, without fear of accidentally stepping on a sleeping snake or waking up some other inhabitant along the way.
When they reach the top of the hill, Harry is surprised at the stunning site before them. There is a city, with stone houses and small, well-kept yards. A wide path of winding brick road stretches through the whole town, leading up to a wood on the other side. Harry can see the top of a larger house over the trees, in the middle of the thicket.
"Is that where the King lives?" Harry asks Dergon, pointing to the far away home.
"Yes," Dergon replies, "I have always believed it to be, although few have ever paid the king a visit."
"We could make it there by tonight, but we'd better come up with a way to get her out first." Ron says.
Harry shakes his head. "I think we need to find out more about what we're dealing with and-"
Rattle! Clang! Whoosh!
There is shuffling down near their feet, and a tiny brown Imp leaps out from behind a bush. His eyes are wide, fringed with black ashes and he is covered in brown fur, wearing tiny pants with a pocket sewn onto only one of the legs.
"Stop! Hand over everything of value to us, by order of the King!" he says. He is carrying what looks like a spoon. There are several tools and weapons dangling from his belt, and he sounds like a wind chime as he bounces about menacingly.
"What the Hell are you?" Pansy says, bending to eye the creature more closely. Dergon and Naya laugh, and Harry and Ron look at the creature with much amusement.
"Going to spoon them to death Imran? You weren't supposed to jump out just then, you idiot!" another Imp says from behind the same bush. "Now you've gone and ruined it!" Realizing his mistake, Imran drops his spoon and pulls out a tiny sword.
"I can't believe this!" another Imp says, appearing from behind a rock, "Third time this week you've gone and jumped the gun on a perfectly planned mugging!" The last Imp looks around indignantly. "Where the Hell is Patrick?"
"Here, waiting for you fools to finish bickering," a small, brooding voice calls out.
The Imp called Patrick climbs down from the tree nearest Ron.
"We don't have time to be pestered by the likes of you," Dergon says, picking up the struggling Imran.
"Oh yeah! You think you can just walk into our city without paying an entrance fee?" the second Imp says.
Dergon bares his fangs, poking his finger at the feisty Imp. "The King charges no fee to get into the City. You are nothing but criminals!"
"So what! You think because you're bigger than us you can come waltzing into our city without paying some sort of dues? Huh?"
The bold Imp draws his own sword and swings it around Impressively.
"Shut up Max, before the wolf decides he wants a s-n-a-c-k!" Imran whimpers.
"We just heard you saying you were going to mug us!" Harry says, remembering to bare his own fangs, "Not that you would have been successful at it."
"Well, if Imran had just waited until I gave the command and not jumped the gun…well, we had a good plan was all," the last Imp says.
"James…do you think we could discuss this once the wolf puts me down," Imran says.
-So close, why are we stopping- Hermione's book says to Harry Impatiently-
Harry grips his knapsack to keep it from jumping around. Dergon licks his teeth in anticipation. "That snack idea sounds pretty good," he says.
"Wait! Don't eat him!" Patrick yells, putting his sword back into his tiny green pants. "We'll let you off easy this time."
Ron laughs, "I don't think you ever had us." Ron picks up Patrick by his collar.
"We might have if we had stuck to the plan," James mumbles again.
"Ugh, why are we still talking to these little things?" Pansy says, shifting uncomfortably under the leering glances coming from Max. "Hi there," the smitten Imp says to her, stabbing his sword into the ground and leaning on it suggestively.
"You'll never take me alive!" Patrick yells, swinging his fists into the air. Ron laughs and puts him down on top of the rock. Max is still leering at Pansy. He slices a blade of grass in half, offering it to her. She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
"I swear if this little Imp doesn't stop staring at me, I'm going to kick it!" Pansy snaps.
Max winks at her. "You're not as hairy as other wolf girls I've met, I like it. "
Naya leaps towards James, who dives behind the bushes again.
"Um…a little help?" Imran says as Dergon lifts him up towards his mouth.
"Wait Dergon!" Harry says, "Do you four know your way around the City?"
"I do! I do!" Imran cries out. Dergon reluctantly stops, and puts him back down onto the ground. Ron plucks the still-swinging Patrick from the rock and plants him next to Imran.
"I need to be a part of today's Games. How can I do that?" Harry says, kneeling to their level.
Dergon's face hardens at Harry's announcement. Ron mumbles something close to 'I knew it' under his breath.
Imran looks up at Harry, surprised. "Why would you? You're not even a very big werewolf. You wouldn't stand a chance."
Harry growls at Imran. The other Imps raise their swords, preparing to attack the green-eyed werewolf.
"We need you to take us to where they are holding the Games," Harry says.
Imran scratches his head. "I know how to get you entered into the Games, although it's last minute and it will take a lot of work…"
Harry groans and reaches into his sack. He pulls out a gold coin and hands it to Imran.
"Wizard money! How did you get this?" Imran says excitedly.
"Never mind, just tell us if you can arrange it or not," Ron says, kneeling beside Harry.
"Sure, we can arrange it. James can have it done in an hour," Imran says, kissing the coin.
James grumbles, "I thought I told you to stop making promises for me?"
Imran holds the gold coin in the air like a trophy. Max and Patrick are patting Imran on the back and making rude noises at James.
"Oh alright," James says, "But we'd better get going if I'm going to get him entered in time."
Harry puts Imran back down onto the ground. Dergon looks over towards Harry. "We didn't realize your goal was to enter the Games. I would advise against it, but I trust you know your situation as well I as I do," he says, referring to Harry's temporary disguise.
Ron and Pansy exchange glances. Harry holds out a few gold coins to Dergon, who accepts this gesture.
"This will bring us food in the trade," Dergon says.
Naya anxiously grabs a coin away from Dergon. He snaps at her and she sulks, handing the coin back to him.
"You have helped us more than we could have asked. And if you wish to leave us now, we understand," Harry offers.
Dergon looks towards the town, and then back at Harry. "We will escort you to the Games. Then our debt will be paid."
Pansy begins walking down the hill. "Touching, very touching, but the little rat said we had to hurry up."
Imran protests, "We are not rats!"
Ron and Harry race to catch up with her. "Since when did you become concerned with this mission anyway Pansy?" Ron asks.
Pansy kicks dirt at Max, who is following her a little too closely.
"Since it became clear that the sooner this idiotic rescue is over with, the sooner I can get back home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How may we help you?" a goblin says to the motley crew standing before him. The Imps have led them to what looks like a supply store. There are bottles and bags lining the shelves, and a female goblin sits in the corner, manning what appears to be a cash register.
James waves his arms in the air to catch the attention of the goblin.
"We seek an audience with the organizer of this afternoon's Games. I did some work for him before. Tell him that James is here to see him," the mild mannered Imp says.
"Is he expecting you?" the goblin says haughtily, "All of you?"
"Probably not," Harry says, "But I'd like to enter the contest."
The goblin looks Harry up and down and laughs. "That would be entertaining at least. Come on then."
They follow the creature to the back of the shop, and into a tunnel covered in bundimun, a green fungus with eyes that follow them with every twist and turn.
"I didn't know that goblins lived in the forest," Harry whispers to Dergon, walking steadily behind him.
"The original inhabitants were outlaws, banned from your world for one crime or the other. The king saw their usefulness immediately and they remain his most loyal servants," he replies.
The goblin opens a large brass door, and there is a small, plump goblin sitting in a large plush chair. He is holding a pad of paper and gestures for them to come closer.
"The young black-haired werewolf wants to enter the Games," their escort sniggers.
The room erupts with laughter. The goblin in charge doesn't laugh.
"Purpose?" the goblin asks.
James and the other Imps had already filled Harry in on this part. He knew what to say.
"To show my loyalty, and give my life for the chance to serve our king," Harry says.
'For love' Harry thinks.
Max sneaks up behind Patrick, knocking him in the back of the head with Imran's coin. "Bastard!" Patrick says, retaliating by tripping Max, sending him flying into the air. All of the Imps laugh.
"Those guys have an odd sense of humor, " Ron whispers to Pansy.
"I think they are just plain odd," she says.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione sits beside Edred as they ride through the city. She had always assumed that his home was surrounded by forest without any civilized camps, but here was this beautiful city, unfolding right before her eyes. The carriage had surprised her, but she is even more surprised by the abraxan who is pulling it. The horse-like creature is almost the size of the entire carriage itself.
Edred's expression is mild at the moment, although he seems a bit petulant to Hermione.
"What you will see today will be brutal and violent, but necessary to ensure that the victor is willing to give his life to serve me."
He pulls on a lock of her hair. "Perhaps you will enjoy the show."
They ride through groves of fruited trees, and down long aisles of immaculate stone houses. She recognizes some of the creatures. There are goblins, Trolls, centaurs, and even some werewolves. There are also creatures that she has neither seen, nor heard of before. She thinks perhaps that they are crossbreeds, like the Blast Ended Skrewt Hagrid had bred in their third year.
The carriage stops, and three goblins open the door and tug on her dress, urging her to exit. She stumbles, and looks out among the sea of strange creatures gathered around the large arena. A hush falls over the crowd. The goblins pull her towards a platform. Edred follows, squashing a small pixie that is unable to get out of his way in time.
"You will take the chair to my right," Edred directs her, and she obeys him.
-Oh you're so lovely!- the chair squeaks happily- such a lovely queen we will have-
'Thank you,' she answers sadly.
Edred sits down beside her as the goblins scramble around, attending to them both. One of the goblins hands her a strange drink. She politely accepts it and sips.
A blend of pumpkin juice and raspberries- the cup explains.
"Where are the competitors?" Edred says to one of the goblins.
There is more scrambling, and a door is opened from across the arena. Almost a dozen large creatures with fearsome weapons and intimidating size walk out to face the cheering crowd. Followed by one, a werewolf who looks oddly familiar.
"An ambitious one that one," one of the Goblins says to Edred, "Just entered today."
Edred peers closely at the werewolf who bares the mark of Dergon's clan. "Very well then," Edred says as the contestants race towards the platform. When they are close enough, each of them stop to bow before their king. Their greetings range from pathetically adoring, to quick and polite. Finally, the young werewolf takes his bow before Edred and Hermione.
"Your majesty…my future Queen…I am humbly at your service," he says, raising his eyes to meet hers, then quickly bringing them to the ground again.
Hermione's heart stops at the sound of his voice. Panic, fear, joy, excitement, dread…
"You are either very brave or very foolish young werewolf," Edred says, taking an interest in him.
"I am both, your highness. Someone close to me used to tell me so all of the time," he answers.
'Harry' she thinks, holding her hand to her throat, her pulse quickening.
Edred laughs and raises his sword into the air. "Death to the weak!" he proclaims, and the roaring crowds of bloodthirsty onlookers repeat the sentiment.
"Death to the weak!"