Chapter Seven - The best-laid schemes of elves and men
The room erupted into a frenzy of competing conversations. With the exception of Hermione and Cooks with Thunder who were regarding each other with silent fascination, the others were trying to make themselves heard or get a clarification from the silent pair. The chaos lasted for several minutes, until the rest fell silent as it became apparent that the two who started this firestorm of conversation were involved in a moment that the rest were excluded from. The silence had become palpable when Hermione finally broke her silence and addressed the house-elf.
"Silver Otter Who Dances With Joy?" Oddly enough, the strange name that the elf had gifted her with was the first question she broached, not one about any of the other revelations.
"The People do not choose the name of one who joins the tribes, but we take the guidance of the soul or spirit twin of the individual. Call forth your spirit twin so they may see the mirror of your soul and we will see if you have been misnamed."
As he looked at her calmly, Hermione had an eerie flashback to those moments when Minerva had quietly pointed out something that was so painfully obvious that she should have known the answer before she asked, but still allowed her the dignity of displaying the answer herself. Hesitantly, she produced her wand and focusing her mind's eye on Harry and her sitting beneath `their' tree beside Black Lake, she whispered "Expecto Patronum".
A silvery jet erupted from the tip of her wand, and coalesced into the familiar form of a graceful silver otter. The gleaming mustilid launched herself into the air, joyously pirouetted in mid air, gave an exaggerated wink to Hermione and then bowed to Cooks with Thunder before streaking through the nearby window. The sight of her patronus always filled her with happiness and a twinge of regret because she was so much more free and expressive than Hermione herself. Grinning at the elf, Hermione gave an exaggerated curtsey, "Silver Otter Who Dances With Joy at your service."
Bowing to her, he replied "And for your service, I will answer what you have not asked." Gesturing her back into her seat, he sank to the floor, crouching effortlessly on his heels. "The followers of the deposed king are not a part of this except as a lure, though the heir of a fallen king may well figure into these events. The banner of the Queen's promise was the ruse to bring that which they seek where they could strike, yet it must be reclaimed or much ill could be released into the lands of men."
Seeing the look on her face, Cooks with Thunder raised his hand to forestall her questions. "You must remember that the Old Ones do not concern themselves overly much with your concepts of good and evil. They mark their conduct by lawful and unlawful, oaths sworn and fulfilled, pledges made and redeemed. Honor and the thousand traditions that are kept, the ancient laws of hospitality and kin-right are more telling to them than what you consider right and wrong. The Dark Ones will commit mischief for mischief's sake for they see the houses of men as the reason that they were driven from the twilight lands, but the Lords and Ladies of the Court will conduct themselves by a code that was old when they were young."
Clearing her throat to get his attention, Flori waited until the house-elf turned his gaze on her before speaking. "Cooks with Thunder, are you saying that this entire set of events was a deception to lure Miss Grainger here to America from England?"
Looking from Flori to Hermione, the house-elf nodded to her. Looking thoughtful, Hermione shrugged. "On face, that would seem to be preposterous." Hermione mused out loud. "Here in America, outside this room, no one here knows me, much less well enough to dislike me enough to go to all of this trouble."
Idly fingering the pendant she wore around her neck, she frowned. "It would have to someone from Britain who has sufficient contacts here in America to drag me here. But why?"
Oblivious to the questioning stares she was receiving from her companions, she got up and began to pace the room, talking all the while. "The only reason that would justify this much trouble and expense is that someone thinks that bringing me here puts me at a disadvantage."
Frowning, Mary interrupted Hermione's soliloquy. "Obviously, if you're here you're isolated from your usual support and friends back home. Might make you seem an easier target. Also, in unfamiliar surroundings you're less likely to notice something off or wrong."
"Precisely, MT," Cooks with Thunder nodded solemnly. "Her foes wish to sunder her from He who defeated the Dark Lord and the Red Knight as both are far across the sea and they see them as her primary strength, ignoring the strength that is hers by right and the talent that is hers by choice." Nodding to the assembled group, "They also misread the ability of Silver Otter to find her natural allies no matter where she travels."
Looking out the window, gazing towards the east, Hermione sighed and leaned her forehead against the glass. "So if we don't have the lead of looking for the Stuart supporters to go on, how am I supposed to find the flag and glass and return them to Scotland before something dreadful happens?" Turning, she folded her arms in front of her and smiled grimly. "Or they succeed in doing me in."
"I think we can assume that both items are going to be in one place." Oscar began looking around the room for consensus. "If not, it sounds as if the elven banner is the immediate concern. Cooks with Thunder, am I correct in thinking that as a house-elf you and yours might have some sort of connection to the banner, or at least a better chance of determining its rough whereabouts than we would?"
Gazing at the dispassionate house-elf, the young wizard watched for some indication he was on the correct path. "If that's correct, then could you and your kinsmen try to locate the general location of the flag so we can recover it before it's misused or destroyed?"
Looking directly at Oscar, Cooks with Thunder seemed to be searching for something within the young man. "If the Folk were to become actively involved in this, it would only be at the request of the MacLeod or his champion. Even then, requests made to the Old Ones are fraught with peril. Unleashing the An Bratach Sith would only result in death, destruction, and mortal peril. Dealing with the People of the Hills is usually much more dangerous for mortals."
Shaking her head in exasperation, MT sat back into her chair and sighed. "He's not going to give any of you a direct answer without being asked by the one who has the right to ask." Looking over at Hermione, she grimaced. "You're the champion of the MacLeod for this; you're the one who has to invoke the help of the Folk. Wonder if the MacLeod will thank you for that or not."
"Silver Otter has claims other than that of the MacLeod's or the dead Stuart kings. By right of the Dunkeld she can ask for help, but as the MacLeod's champion she can pursue the banner without additional peril attaching." Looking at Hermione, he shifted slightly as if uncomfortable at the turn the conversation is going. "It was not my intent to involve you in these matters, but the will of the Court is difficult to ignore."
Gripping the windowsill behind her, Hermione leaned forward for a better view of the elf. Shaking her head, she then stood and bowed to the house elf, holding her bow for ten seconds before standing upright. Frowning as if trying to remember something she had read long ago, she spoke slowly and distinctly. "By kith and kin, I invoke the hospitality of the People beneath the Hills. By Star and Stone, I acknowledge the bonds between your house and mine. By the call of the Cranntara and by the right of blood, I ask for the aid of the Folk." Waiting expectantly, she watched as a change came over the house elf in front of her.
Gone was the affable house elf that was part of the inn's staff and a friend to everyone present. In his place, for a moment, stood a courtier of the ancient Elven realms that once ruled the forests and wild places. Cooks with Thunder drew himself up with an aura of power as he graciously acknowledged the young witch in front of him with a nod and grim smile. "Silver Otter, in the Name of She who was and She who is, the hidden clans beneath the hills welcome the daughter of the Dunkeld. Hospitality and kinship are the ancient pledges between the Folk and yours, by right of blood shared and blood spilled. Your grandfather Martin was the last to call upon the Folk; we heard no more from him after he left for the war until we found out he had perished." Nodding sadly to Hermione, he finished. "Ask what you will. If I can assist, I will. If I cannot, I will take you to those who can."
Once again, the room erupted into a whirlwind of conversation. Hermione sagged back onto the windowsill, collapsing and releasing the breath she had been holding since she had finished reciting the strange oath that she had found written in the margins of her grandfather's diary so many years ago. Watching the house-elf as the chaos swirled around them; he nodded to her and smiled grimly. Nodding slightly towards the doorway, Hermione began to make her way quietly towards the hallway and the quieter confines of the rest of the inn. Noticing that the house-elf was following her, she quietly slipped through the door.
Guiltily, looking back into the room, she saw that MT had noticed their departure and was gratified that she nodded to them as she continued arguing some fine point with Oscar.
Climbing the stairs to the second floor, she silently led the way to her room. Unlocking the door, she motioned for Cooks With Thunder to enter, and then she closed the door behind her, cast a quick muffliato on the door and finally collapsed onto the desk chair.
"I think if we go back down there with a plan, it'll be easier getting them on board than trying to hammer things out in front of them"
Nodding towards the bed, the house-elf waiting until Hermione gestured her assent before he sat down. "They are concerned about you, and they don't understand everything that is going on here."
"Well, the not understanding thing is universal since I'm a bit lost on all of this," shaking her head she laughed. "I'm still trying to get a handle on who hates me enough to steal two artifacts from a Scottish castle and bring them to America just to get me here."
"It's not just you, but you're the first that the servants of the Defeated One have targeted. All three of you are at risk, you and the Red Knight first to weaken your friend with guilt about your deaths, then your Mr. Potter himself."
"That's twice you've called Ron the Red Knight. Why?"
"It's the role he plays in your group, he's Peredur from the old tales returned. He redeemed himself on the quest to destroy the Dark Lord, but he still searches for that which will complete him. Also, I can see your regard for him. You never let anyone see your fears except for him and the other. Yet, the other will be the one you will allow to rescue you."
Feeling vaguely uneasy with the way the conversation was going; Hermione began to shift the focus to the problem at hand. "If we don't really have the Stuart connection, how do we find the flag and the glass?"
Deep in thought, Cooks with Thunder mused. "We know what we want, we know what they want." Looking up at Hermione, he smiled grimly. "If you're willing to dare it, we should not appear to have found out their plot, and allow them to continue. Go about your original plan, make plans to seek the supporters of the Stuart king, and wait for them to move."
Frowning, Hermione fiddled with her hair as she considered the proposal. "Bait?" Shaking her head, she seemed uncomfortable. "I don't mind being the bait, but if I go to the stadium tomorrow, I'll endanger all of the muggles I'll be associating with." Looking into the elf's eyes she continued. "I can't countenance risking their lives just to flush out this plot against me. There must be a better way."
"Would it be better if they release an elven host in the middle of the city to draw you out?"
Biting her lip, she conceded "No, that wouldn't work either." Sighing, she shook her head. "What's your plan?"
"Basically the same plan that MT and the others had before this attack, with a twist. The stadium is a contained environment. The local bureau sheriffs and county reeves can stake the place out well enough to protect the muggles working there. You'll go there tomorrow, with young Irving set to cover you in the office area. Fortunately, with the presence of Ms Blackstone, we now have an `excuse' for Oscar to be there as well."
Nodding at the sardonic chuckle from Hermione, Cooks With Thunder continued. "Flori will make contact with two of the local Stuart supporters during the day and dangle the bait for them to be at the stadium to meet a supporter from England with ties to the MacLeod's. The word of that meeting should reach the appropriate ears. During the game, Flori will be polyjuiced to replace you, while you, Irving and I will seek out the root of this plan. We'll track the serpents to their lair."
"Serpents?"
"From what I can tell, your opponents are followers of the Dark Lord's patron, Slytherin."
"And just where will we find Salazar Slytherin's followers here in Ohio?"
"Where else? The barrow mound of the great serpent is where we will find them."
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