Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Not Again!

Chapter 9

by Forty_Two 0 reviews

Is it "Acromantulas" or "Acromantulae"? Either way, they're pretty big.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Humor,Parody - Characters: Harry,Hermione - Warnings: [!!!] [V] [?] - Published: 2015-06-22 - 1768 words

0Unrated

Chapter 9


It was a few days later at lunch that Hermione Granger summoned her Gryffindor courage and took the seat directly across from the two with the black headbands. She straightened her shoulders and addressed the famous Boy-Who-Lived.

"Mister Potter, are you still planning to acquire yourself a sword?"

"Um, yes?" Harry answered guardedly.

"You mentioned that Acromantulae have steel-like pincers. I assume that you'll need only one to make your sword and that leaves a second pincer unclaimed," Hermione reminded Harry. "If I were to assist in your adventure, I would be entitled to claim the other one, I should think?"

"Fair enough," Harry nodded, "but have you ever seen an Acromantula?"

"I've researched Acromantulae in the library," Hermione informed him. "They're native to South America. First things first: How do you intend to get there?"

"There's a large colony of them in the Forbidden Forest," Harry explained.

"Really!? That was not mentioned in Hogwarts: A History. Are you sure?"

"Yes - very sure," Harry nodded. "The difficult part will be convincing one to part with its pincers."

"Oh!" the bushy-haired witch blinked. "You mean they're willing to negotiate for body parts!? I was working under the assumption that we'd have to kill one."

Harry sighed heavily and shook his head slowly.

"That would fall under the category of 'softening them up a little' in preparation for negotiation," Mary Sue informed the other girl.

"Yes. I see," Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Girl-in-Black, finally realizing that the joke was at her own expense. "Well then - how do you plan to kill one?"

"Harry - and you, if you're willing - will find a nice-sized one, taunt it, then lead it on a merry chase to a clearing where I can swoop down from behind it on a broomstick and carve up its soft abdomen with my awesome sword."

"How fast can they run, do you suppose?" Hermione turned to Harry.

"Lots faster than we can! That's why I'll also be riding a broom. How good are you on one?"

"I'm terrified of flying, actually," Hermione admitted.

"I suppose you could be waiting in the clearing as bait," Mary Sue considered. "With the spider stalking you on the ground, Harry could zoom off to help me attack it from the air."

"I don't have a sword to attack it with," Harry pointed out. "That's the whole point of this exercise."

"Right!" Mary Sue frowned.

"Perhaps you could borrow one from one of the suits of armor," Hermione suggested reasonably.

"Those are awfully big..." Harry winced at the thought of a first-year trying to wield a broadsword while balancing on a broom.

"Have you never heard of a shrinking charm? Honestly!" Hermione rolled her eyes.


-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-


Very early on Sunday morning the trio of first-years crept quietly out of the castle and made their way through the gloom to the Quidditch pitch.

"Alohomora!" Hermione unlocked the door of the broom shed. "We are going to be in so much trouble if we're caught!" she fretted, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder in the direction of the castle.

"Then let's make an effort to not get caught!" Mary Sue encouraged her.

"You really should take a broomstick for yourself, Hermione," Harry urged.

"I'd probably fall off. You agreed to let me ride with you," she reminded him.

"Whatever," Harry shrugged.

The three mounted up, Hermione gripping Harry uncomfortably, and they flew off toward the Forbidden Forest.

"There!" Mary Sue called, pointing through the light early-morning fog to a large clearing below them. "Leave the bait down there. I'll circle up here to cover for you."

Having been deposited, Hermione "Bait" Granger watched as Harry took to the air once more and sped off with the Girl-in-Black. All alone in the clearing, Hermione shivered against the morning chill and began to question her own sanity in agreeing to this plan. Actually being in the Forbidden Forest, alone and not quite sure how to find her way out, was quite different than contemplating the plan in her mind. This was not like reading about something in a book. This was being there and doing it.

Hermione had waited for a very uncomfortable half hour when Mary Sue silently appeared out of the mist on her broom. "We found one!" she called. "Harry should be arriving any second! Get ready!"

Hermione listened carefully. Yes! There was definitely something moving through the forest! She retreated to the far side of the clearing away from the sound as the girl on the broom disappeared up into the mist again.

"How will you be able to see me?" Hermione called weakly, but there was no answer.

The rustling in the forest grew more distinct. This was not a good idea! Hermione's inner voice warned her. Suddenly a broom shot into the clearing - it was Harry. He circled the clearing once and turned to face back in the direction from which he'd come, hovering several yards in front of the nervous girl.

"It's a big one!" Harry announced proudly over his shoulder, seemingly out of breath. Moments later a dark form appeared, indistinct in the mist, but definitely quite large.

"Harry...?" Hermione cringed anxiously, gripping her wand tightly.

"Hey, ugly! Over here!" Harry called as he bobbed on his broomstick. "Mary Sue! Now would be a good time!"

"It's a little hard to see from up here, Harry," a voice called back from the mist. "Oh! There it is, way over there!"

As the dark, hairy beast came into focus, Harry shot off to attack it from behind. Hermione gaped, frozen with fear, as the eight eyes seemed to notice her. Gryffindor courage! Gryffindor courage! she chanted to herself.

"HURRY!" the bushy-haired bait screamed as the Acromantula drew close enough that she could make out the individual hairs on its menacing mandibles. Mary Sue was out of position and Harry was apparently too far away to be of any help. There was only one thing to do! "Engorgio Maxima!" Hermione pointed her wand at herself.

Two seconds later an enormous shoe came down upon the oversized arachnid. Mary Sue heeled her broomstick hard over to starboard to avoid colliding with the now-gigantic first-year witch. Harry pulled up short in mid-air, goggling at the towering sight before him.

"Finite Incantatem," Hermione's wand returned her to her normal size and she stood watching as the Acromantula's eight legs folded up underneath its crushed exoskeleton. "That was close!" she exhaled heavily, letting the adrenaline drain from her system.

"I call bagsy on the left one," the bushy-haired witch shouted out as the other two landed nearby. "Since I killed it, I should have first claim to a pincer."

"But the left one is curved the wrong way for a right-handed sword!" Harry protested. "Not that it makes much difference," he added quickly when he realized that his warning was working at cross purposes to his own aims.

"Yes it does make a difference!" Hermione assured him, "but I'm ambidextrous. I learned to write right-handed, but I throw and play badminton left-handed."

"I think you're both about to be disappointed," Mary Sue looked up from where she crouched in front of the dead spider. "The pincers are not as straight as we'd hoped. They won't make decent swords."

"Scimitars," Hermione shrugged. "Even cooler."

"Makes spell-casting a bit tricky," Harry frowned.

"We can cast around corners!" Hermione grinned. "Honestly, Harry, do you always have to be so negative?"

"And how are we supposed to aim?" he countered.

"Lots of practice!" the bushy-haired one replied. "Do you aim when you put a fork to your mouth?"

Swish! Swish! Mary Sue's sword severed the two pincers at their upper joints. "Here you go and good luck finding a compatible wand core," she smirked, handing each their prize. She waited as the two mounted up and Harry flew them off toward the Black Lake and Hogsmeade. The Girl-in-Black had a different task: covering for the two missing students until they returned to the school.


-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-


"Hey! You two are underage!" the bartender of the Hog's Head Inn called as they entered.

Harry pulled Hermione off to one side as a hung-over patron stumbled past them and out the door. "We just need to use your Floo," Harry explained, dragging his partner-in-crime in that direction. "Borgin and Burkes" he enunciated clearly as he tossed in some Floo powder. The pair disappeared in the flash of green flames.

"Creepy!" Hermione whispered as they spilled out of the Floo.

"Don't touch anything," Harry warned.

"That would be my advice, as well," an eerie voice agreed.

"AAIIEE!" Hermione screamed, grabbing Harry in a painful hug, her fingers digging into his back like claws.

"S-Sorry," Harry stammered to the proprietor, "We must have taken a wrong turn. We're just leaving!"

Hermione released him as they hurried toward the exit. "Sorry," she blushed once they were outside in Knockturn Alley. "He frightened me."

"Do tell," Harry arched an eyebrow. "The wand shop is just down this way."

Harry rang the bell and they waited. Thankfully no one was stirring in Knockturn Alley at this early hour on a Sunday. He rang the bell once more. After several minutes the door opened a crack.

"I'm closed," the man said, making to shut the door again, but Harry's foot blocked it.

"You did my friend's sword," Harry said.

"Oh! It's you!" the wand-maker recognized Harry. "But this isn't your friend," he scrutinized the brunette.

"Different friend," Harry allowed. "We have two more swords for you convert."

"Could be pricey," the man warned.

"We can pay," Harry nodded.

The door opened fully and the two were ushered inside. "These aren't swords!" the wand-maker exclaimed once the two had presented their treasures. "What the bloody hell are they?"

"Acromantula pincers," Hermione answered. "Giant Acromantula pincers," she clarified.

"And freshly killed, it would appear," the man noted as he examined the still-oozing joint ends. "Where did you get them?"

"They were sliced off by a mithril sword," Harry allowed. "One you're familiar with, actually."

"Ah! That explains it, then," the wand-maker nodded.

"They first must be fashioned into swords, then cored for use as wands," Harry went on.

"Scimitars, not straight swords," Hermione corrected.

"Do you know a swordsmith?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps..." the man shifted uneasily, "but the price just doubled."

"I can pay," Harry assured him. "We haven't much time right now, though. Can we select our wand cores now and you can owl the swords to us when they're finished?"

"Step into my back room," the wand-maker smiled greedily.


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