Harry Potter : Chapter 89: Means to an End IV
They had simply thought that, given the way that I used to kill my designated third of the magical creature, I had simply wished for a greater trophy to remind myself of our success.
At least once I clarified that I wouldn't be stuffing it and placing it in the Rùnda.
...
The turn taken by my thoughts quickly and easily summoned my last interaction with the incensed witch, and I suppressed a grimace at the memory.
"I would have never thought you capable of something so heinous!" Minerva was a single step away from using the wand that she had already pointed at me, and while I was distantly curious to see who would be the better fighter, if her with her 'classical' approach or myself with my uniquely, deeply personal understanding of much fewer concepts, this wasn't really the time.
I shrugged helplessly, refusing to rise to the bait of a brawl of any kind to bleed off the tension that I felt on me: it was obvious that it wouldn't really help the situation.
Magic had priority, as always, and in this case, it was more than my usual obsession with endless discovery.
Years before, I had chosen to help Marie and Paul, and while I had failed one of them, I wouldn't let this last snag stop me from trying again and again with the woman now trapped in a form not truly hers. "What would you have me do, Minerva?"
"I don't know!" she snapped, "You're the one responsible, so do something to reverse what you've done!"
This wasn't the clever which I enjoyed being a friend of talking right now, I could see that much: she was merely a girl suddenly realizing that she was tangentially part of a situation with real, almost unfathomable consequences, and her usual brilliance.
Even the kind of dauntless grit that she had occasion to develop both against the Hydra and the Chimaera, were not helping her right now.
Now the challenge was something that I had been fighting against since I had first met Paul and Marie, she was merely becoming truly aware of it.
No rage would help, there'd be no venting the entirety of her emotions through an inspired use of Transfiguration, no target for her to aim her fir and dragon heartstring wand at.
"And the more help I receive from you and Tom, the easier and faster it will be!" I forcefully bit out, doing everything I could to control my own temper: even if I understood where she was coming from, I didn't appreciate being shouted at, nevermind ordered around, and I truly despised the sudden attitude of the witch.
Had she thought that what I had been wasting countless days on was a simple matter, with no potential for mistakes? That curing Lycanthropy was a mere project on the side? Didn't she realize the scale at which I was operating at?
The difference between the importance of my research and her own struggles with a project for Flamel was the same one between the thesis of a PhD and the study of someone on the level of a Nobel Prize.
I crossed my arms in order to stop myself from grabbing my wand to answer to the aggressivity she was showcasing: "The more time Marie..."
"Don't pretend to care about her well-being!" Minerva's green eyes were narrowed, almost sending the same sparks of her wand in the air: "You would have never tried an untested ritual, never have used those kinds of magics if you..."
"I should have gone shopping for a potion in Diagon Alley then?" I wanted to pull my hair because of the frustration.
"Or just sit and ponder like every other two-bit wizard with the dream of finding a cure and none of the dedication to follow through when it came to try out their own ideas?
Should I have paid for a section of the Daily Prophet to share my theories and ask for some suggestions by owl? It may come as a surprise, but if anyone really cared about werewolves, something would have come up in the last thousands of years!"
That hadn't taken the fight out of her, but had managed to bring her to a semblance of calm. That was almost worse.
Minerva stood stiffly for long minutes, refusing to match my gaze as she thought Merlin knew what, until she took a deep breath and put her wand away: "You should have asked Professor Slughorn, you're one of his favorites..."
"We both know very well that he merely enjoys the advantages that my experiments bring him," I shot down the obvious, and quite frankly stupid, suggestion, "the man cares only for himself."
"Professor Dumbledore then..."
"Is one of the brightest minds in the world, I agree." And should really be focusing on Grinderwald by now, between Marie's cure and a World Wide Wizarding World, I know which has the priority.
I thought privately: "And if he ever considered the issue, he'd have already tried, perhaps successfully to find a cure. Given the absolute lack of any study conducted by him on the topic, and the amount of free time he had to research the Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood.
I really didn't want to sully my efforts with the contribution of someone that wasn't going to put his all into it: it's one o the reasons why I never directly involved either you or Tom."
"And give the magic used, you didn't want anyone to know you were breaking the law!"
"You didn't protest when I made up a ritual to save Tom." I calmly pointed out.
"That was different! This..."
"Is exactly the same thing, only with a slow, looming curse on a stranger instead of a painful death on a friend." I tilted my head, curious to see if she'd spot the hypocrisy of her position, and acutely aware that I was a hypocrite myself for what I was about to say.
"Why would Marie's life be any less important than Tom's? Her situation any less worth of lawbreaking than his?"
To that, Minerva finally remained quiet, out of steam, and maybe for the first time, at loss for words.
I should have known that it wouldn't be enough to stop her: pursing her lips, she straightened as much as she could, and glared at me with all of her quickly remounting fury.
"If you don't cure that poor woman before the next full moon, Hagrid," and I could feel the peremptory nature of her tone, the sheer belief in the ultimatum she was giving.
"I'll destroy the Rùnda, and I'll never research anything with you. I'll do everything I can to stop you from being able to do harm to another, no matter your professed intentions."
"What?" I blinked owlishly as I took a step back: of all the things she could have said, this wasn't what I had been expecting.
"Magic is the only thing you seem to truly care about, Hagrid: so I'll stop being a part of the Rùnda, and warn Filius off to start with." I didn't miss her use of my surname instead of my given name, the name that I was slowly growing to accept as mine.
"And the first thing I'll do if you don't live up to your buster and undo the damage you've wrought is going to tell everything to Professor Dumbledore, he'll know what to do."
I shook my head as I forced myself to focus on the here and now: it wouldn't help to make a dumb mistake only because I was tangentially furious at Minerva, and mad for the whole situation. Fortunately, I didn't have to completely rely on myself in order to remain on track.
"Messing with your own thoughts is a rather dangerous idea, isn't it?" my own voice came from the translucent reflection of my sapphire-eyed copy, "More to the point: do you really think it wise?"
I paused my trafficking with the many ingredients I was working with, briefly looking at the image provided by the Ravenclaw's Diadem siting on my brow only to slowly gravitate towards the greater cauldron where I was separating the distilled shadows from the forged irons that had once been my short-lived attempt at creating something in the image of Gelipnir.
"Everyone changes during their lives: the choices we make, the routines we choose to adopt and stick with..." I murmured out loud, my eyes beginning to discern the contents of the cauldron.
"This is merely a jump ahead instead of a slow trek. Of course, it will need to remain flexible enough to consent me to keep growing and even changing back if needed..."
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