Heroes (Edit, Not Update)

Chapter 4 ~ A Tentative Solution


”Artimus!” Dahlia called to the angry sorcerer as he walked toward Snape, fury in his eyes as they rested on the sallow wizard, who looked back at him, his arms folded, a small breeze whipping his robes about lightly.

”Artimus, wait!” Dahlia said, running to catch up to him and walking beside him, doing her best to be the voice of reason.

”He broke Steede’s leg,” the sorcerer said through gritted teeth.

”He didn’t mean to, Artimus. He was trying to protect his own,” the sorceress said.

Artimus stopped and whirled on Dahlia.

”And what do you think I’m supposed to do about that, Dahlia? Steede was trying to protect his own when he reared. He was trying to protect me, and he was injured because of that. Steede isn’t just my horse, Dahlia. He’s more than a horse to me. He’s a companion, an ally and a friend,” the sorcerer said angrily. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone injure him. Steede had no defense at all against that . . . that wizard!”

Artimus was beside himself. Steede’s leg was not broken in just one place, but two. It had happened when he fell from Snape’s stunner. It was difficult to mend a horse’s leg under the best conditions and to be honest, bone injuries were the number one reason horses were put down because they just can’t bear their weight on three legs. Even the most cared for horses were usually euthanized in situations like this.

Snape hadn’t just mortally injured an animal; he had injured someone very dear to Artimus. The wizard was rather solitary except for Dahlia and his friend Marcus. Steede was like family, and you didn’t fuck with family.

”Artimus, Hagrid said that they could fix his leg with magic, make him good as new,” Dahlia said to the sorcerer as they drew closer to Snape, who continued to face the approaching sorcerer calmly. Hermione however, looked apprehensive.

Artimus grunted at this, but said nothing else until he walked up to Snape. He started to untie his cloak as Snape looked at him coldly. Artimus handed his cloak to Dahlia, who looked just as apprehensive as Hermione now.

”Now look you sorry bastard, you injured my horse. His leg is broken in two places and horses rarely recover from that. You’ve given him a death sentence,” Artimus breathed. “That animal is important to me and you’re going to pay for what you did to him. None of us asked for this. I don’t know what kind of world this is where visitors are treated like criminals, but when I return to my own . . . I intend to carry some of your blood with me, Now . . . defend yourself, wizard!”

Artimus threw a punch at Snape, who slipped it easily, twisting his body so it didn’t connect, then held up his pale hands.

”Before you commence to attempting to pummel me to death, please allow me to suggest something that will be less painful for both of us, Mr. . .”

”Mr. Sorcerer-Who’s-Going-to-Kick-Your-Ass,” Artimus hissed, but he didn’t attack again.

”Whatever. Your horse can be treated by our medi-witch, Madam Pomfrey. Bone injuries can be fixed overnight in our world. Although our magic doesn’t seem to work on you or . . .”

Here Snape looked at Dahlia consideringly.

”. . . your lady, it does work on your horse, presumably because he is not a magical creature, but essentially a Muggle beast,” the Headmaster said smoothly.

”What do you mean Muggle beast?” Artimus asked him, frowning blackly. It sounded like an insult.

”Merely a term we use for those without magic. If you allow us to treat him, I guarantee that he will be as good as new in a very short period of time. For humans, bone regeneration only takes twenty-four hours. I imagine it will take a bit more time for your horse since he is larger,” Snape said as Dahlia’s eyes rounded.

”You can heal a broken arm in a day?” she asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded.

”That’s amazing. It takes a week for a broken arm to heal where we’re from,” Dahlia said.

”That’s enough, Dahlia,” Artimus snapped, not wanting to give the impression that wizard magic was stronger than sorcerer magic. Dahlia fell silent, but it was easy for Hermione to see that the woman wanted to know more. She seemed to be in her late twenties, and dressed like a Muggle. Her accent was definitely American.

Hermione wondered what her ethnic background was. She wasn’t white, that was for certain although her brunette hair was completely straight and her skin tone tanned. She might have passed for a Sicilian except for her features.

”I’m not about to leave him in your care. We’ve already had a taste of your ‘hospitality.’” Artimus said.

But he dropped his hands, hoping that they could indeed fix Steede’s leg.

”You could stay at Hogwarts. We’ll provide you with a room until he’s healed,” Hermione replied, hoping to stave off another altercation. Since magic didn’t work on Artimus, Severus would be forced to fight him hand to hand and that wouldn’t come out well on any level, no matter who won.

Artimus looked at her, then at Snape.

”I imagine a locked room with guards,” the sorcerer said as Dahlia stiffened.

”No,” Hermione said, then looked at Severus, who said nothing. It looked as if that’s precisely what he intended to do.

”No,” she said again more vehemently.

Snape’s black eyes shifted toward her for a moment, then back at Artimus.

”You will both be treated as guests,” the wizard said tightly, his eyes shifting to the wands tucked in both their waistbands. “But you will have ‘guides’ to take you about the castle if you wish to explore.”

”Guides. Guards. Not much difference that I can see,” Artimus said coldly.

Dahlia stepped in.

”Artimus, that sounds reasonable. If they came to Finklenook, they would have escorts as well,” she said to him softly.

”Finklenook? What’s that?” Hermione asked curiously.

Dahlia’s hazel eyes washed over Hermione.

”It is an institute of Higher Magical Learning and Research,” she replied, watching as Hermione’s brown eyes lit up with excitement.

”A school? Where sorcerers are educated?” she pressed.

Hermione still loved learning about new things. A sorcerer’s school was extremely interesting.

”No. You have to already be highly educated to enter Finklenook. A sorcerer must have at least two Masters Degrees to even be considered for acceptance. Most have more,” Dahlia replied a bit loftily.

She was brilliant and knew it. But every undergrad at Finklenook was brilliant, which made competition to be noticed quite fierce.

”So how do sorcerers learn to do their magic?” Hermione asked, enthralled.

Artimus cut her off.

”We’re not here for twenty questions. We just want to get my horse healed and to go home,” he said to the witch pointedly. Then he looked back at Snape.

”All right. We’ll stay here until you can repair the damage you’ve done to Steede. But I warn you, I won’t stand for mistreatment. I’ve had enough of it. Next time, someone will be seriously hurt,” Artimus said, meeting Snape’s black eyes directly.

Snape nodded. He really did understand Artimus' anger. He would feel the same way if he found himself in a similar situation.

”Very well. The Headmistress will go and retrieve our medi-witch, Madame Pomfrey, and I will accompany you and your injured animal to the stables and wait to receive her. After that, we will see about your accommodations,” the wizard said evenly.

Artimus nodded curtly and both Dahlia and Hermione breathed sighs of relief.

Dahlia looked at her lover and shook her head slowly. It was like being involved with Indiana Jones sometimes. At Finklenook, Artimus was an unassuming, rather even-tempered educator who taught Creation, his area of expertise the formation of biological constructs. He was in charge of the creation area, which consisted of a large number of differently sized rooms where living and inanimate forms were developed. He oversaw the development of the undergrads’ projects and graded their success. He was also responsible for dissolving those creations that were imperfect before they animated if he could catch the errors.

Unlike golems in Hermione’s world, sorcerer constructs were truly living creatures, with skeletal structures, nervous systems, digestive systems, the works. They interacted with the world as any other creature and could feel pain. One of Artimus’ pet peeves was a poorly constructed creation. Crossing synapses, or improperly setting the muscular systems, or forgetting vital organs such as lungs or a heart caused the creatures great suffering, and usually Artimus was the one who had to witness the creation’s pain and destroy it before it suffered too much.

He considered the erroneous construction of a creature as next to unforgivable and whoever was at fault could count on very severe punishments, such as loss of creation room privileges and expulsion from his class until they took several certified refresher courses in biology from accredited schools. This could take more than a year. And even then when the offender returned, he or she was put on probation.

But outside of Finklenook, Artimus seemed to live for challenge, mayhem and danger. He loved the outdoors and often traveled to wild, untamed places. He hunted, fished, and camped every chance he got. Luckily, Dahlia appreciated these activities as well, or she would rarely see him during his free time. He also enjoyed slaying clerics whenever he met them, an activity Dahlia also engaged in, but didn’t enjoy at all.

She hated the War. The senseless killing. It was in direct conflict with her core beliefs. Basically, she was non-violent. Even her art, Aikido, reflected that. She only fought when she was attacked or to defend others. She preferred reason, but reason was in short supply when it came to the Antimage and his clerics. There was never parlay. Only attack after attack.

Dahlia was an undergrad at Finklenook and had degrees in Biology, Physics and Mathematics. She attended the institute for three years before she and Artimus had a “meeting of the minds” or “of the bodies” so to speak. They were both attracted to each other from the outset, but neither made any attempt to act on the attraction, both not willing to risk rejection. The circumstances of exactly how they got together were quite . . . interesting.

Interesting enough that Artimus was almost sure Dahlia would be the last woman he ever slept with, given her fighting skills and dead cleric count, which was the highest in the Protectors.

But, he survived.

“All right,” Hermione said, looking at Dahlia longingly now. She wanted to talk to the sorceress, and find out more about her world. Maybe there would be an opportunity later. “I’m going to get Poppy.”

She headed across the grounds toward the castle at a quick walk.

Snape, Artimus and Dahlia watched her for a moment, then turned and walked back toward Hagrid, Steede and the white stallion, who had been standing about looking dashing. Dahlia had gone heavy on the “noble steed” inclination in her initial development of the creature, and the horse would periodically paw dramatically, toss his mane around and rear on his hind legs, looking gorgeous.

Steede couldn’t stand him.

Hagrid was on the right side of the horse, helping to support him with his shoulder.

”Thar, thar. Don’ worry now. Poppy’s goin’ ter fix yeh right up. We haf’ magic tha’ mends bones,” he said to the animal, stroking Steede’s neck gently. “Yeh’ll be good as new in no time.”

Steede found the half-giant oddly soothing, although he didn’t speak to him. He had learned a long time ago not to speak to strangers. They didn’t always react in a good way. To everyone other than Artimus and Dahlia, he was just a regular horse.

Artimus walked up to Steede and looked at him worriedly for a moment, then petted his nose gently.

”They claim to have magic that will set your bones properly and quickly Steede,” he said to the horse. “So Dahlia and I am going to stay here while they heal you. We aren’t leaving you. Don’t worry about that.”

Steede nickered and pushed at Artimus’ hand affectionately as Dahlia looked on.

Snape curled his lip at the display. He never understood people who talked to their animals as if they could understand them.

”I’m sure the horse appreciates you taking the time to explain the situation,” Snape said in a somewhat withering tone.

He couldn’t help it.

”Some animals understand better than others,” Dahlia said as Artimus bristled.

”Yer right about tha’ yer are,” Hagrid agreed. “Animals always knows wot yer saying to ‘em.”

Snape rolled his eyes. He hoped Hermione and Poppy would hurry. His nausea level was already approaching critical as he watched everyone fawning over the horse.

Good grindelows. The way the sorcerer was hovering over him, one might suspect they had an ‘unnatural’ relationship.

Snape’s dark eyes drifted over Dahlia, who stood next to Artimus, cooing at the horse. No, it was obvious the sorcerer had a strong appreciation of woman flesh. As his eyes rested on her large, but rather curvaceous ass, Severus idly thought Dahlia certainly had plenty of that.

But there was no woman for him other than Hermione, who suited him perfectly physically, intellectually and even emotionally, giving him the affection that he needed, a need he still didn’t acknowledge openly, although if she were to withhold it, it would be as if the sun went out.

He never wanted to live in such darkness again.

But Hermione loved him with such loyalty and fierceness, that he never need worry about that. Hermione had been the one to return to the Shrieking Shack before either Harry and found him still breathing, but nearly dead from blood loss. Using medi-witch spells she had learned in her private studies, she cleansed and healed the terrible wounds from Nagini’s bite, then shared her blood with him through magical transfusion. They were found next to each other, weak and drawn, but alive. From that day she always told him they were bound by blood forever.

In the years that followed, Severus found that to be true, finding himself strongly attracted to the brilliant witch but never acting on it until Hermione confessed her own attraction after Minerva retired and he asked her to serve as Deputy Headmistress. At age twenty-five, she would be the youngest Deputy Headmistress in Hogwarts history. However, despite her own dismal record of being less than law-abiding at times, Hermione was a stickler for the rules, and to Severus, that made her perfect for the job.

They had been celebrating her acceptance in his office with a few firewhiskeys, the witch becoming more animated and Severus more enamored when she confessed her feelings for him in no uncertain terms, cinching it with a rather hot and unexpected kiss, which the former Potions Master accepted quite enthusiastically, as well as the ones that followed.

Needless to say they sealed their alliance with more than a handshake, Snape delighted to find out she was still a virgin at age twenty-five. He had never been any witch’s first.

”I just never got around to it,” she told him afterwards as they lay hot and sweaty in each other’s arms.

”And that’s my fortune,” the wizard breathed, kissing her deeply.

They’d been together ever since.

Just as Severus felt the contents of his stomach were about to boil over, Hermione and Poppy appeared, walking toward them briskly.

”Thank Merlin,” Severus sighed to himself.

Now they could get this matter out of the way and go about handling the rest of the situation. He had a two o’clock meeting with the Governor’s board, which was never enjoyable. More than likely he would let Hermione make the arrangements for the sorcerers. He trusted her judgment.

Poppy walked up to Steede, carrying a small medical bag and her wand. Dressed in a blue cotton dress covered in a white apron with two large pockets in the front and a little white nurse’s cap on her head and a sincere expression of concern on her face, Poppy was the epitome of kindness and empathy.

Dahlia liked her instantly, even if she was a witch.

”Oh you poor creature,” she said to Steede softly as Artimus moved aside, to let her by. She petted his nose, her blue eyes glistening. “You must be in a lot of pain. Here.”

She reached into her apron pocket and drew out several sugar cubes.

”Eat these,” she said kindly, holding them up.

Artimus watched as Steede slowly ate the sugar cubes. The glazed look of pain disappeared from his eyes and the whites stopped showing.

Artimus looked at her in askance.

”Oh, the sugar cubes were treated with a powerful pain potion. He isn’t in any distress right now, but we have to keep him off his leg,” she said to the sorcerer as she bent and waved her wand over Steede’s right leg, tsking as the blue light at the tip wavered, darkening as it passed over the broken areas.

”Oh my. His leg is broken in two places, and there’s been some splintering as well. Hairline fractures throughout,” she said straightening. She looked at Artimus who had gone ashen at her pronouncement.

”Don’t worry,” she said to him, “if he had to break his leg, he couldn’t have done it in a better place, believe me. Because of the extensive damage, it’s going to take about four days for him to heal completely, but he will heal,” she assured him.

”But, how are you going to keep him off his leg?” Artimus asked her worriedly.

One of the main reasons horses didn’t heal well from broken bones was because they were horses and their behavior wasn’t conducive to healing. They would keep attempting to use the injured leg.

”Oh, I have an idea,” she said obliquely.

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”Aritmus! I feel ridiculous,” Steede whinnied down at the sorcerer, who had a broad smile on his face. He was sure Steede would recover now. Poppy had set his leg and given him Skele-grow, binding the limb in a soft white cloth cast.

”It looks kind of comfortable to me, Steede,” he chuckled.

Steede was suspended in a kind of heavy canvas body sling from the rafters of the Thestral stable, all four legs dangling in the air as he was held securely. There were openings in it so he could urinate and defecate, his refuse dropping to the floor below. A watering and feeding trough was magically suspended before him, if he became either hungry or thirsty, it would automatically move close enough for him to eat or drink, then move away when he was finished.

”This is humiliating,” Steede snorted, swinging slightly.

”It’s only for four days. Think of what the alternative could have been,” Artimus said, sobering.

He’d almost lost Steede.

”The longest four days of my life,” the horse said sullenly, “when I get better I’m going to kick that ugly wizard right in his ass for this.”

”Just make sure we’re leaving when you do,” Artimus said to him with a smile.

Steede suddenly stiffened in his sling, falling silent as the ugly wizard in question glided in, looking at Artimus with a slightly amused expression, then up at Steede.

”Do you make it a habit of talking to animals as if they can understand you? Or do you just have a bit of a ‘Dr. Doolittle’ complex?” Snape purred at him. “There are therapists for that, you know.”

”Are the accommodations ready?” Artimus snapped back at Snape, ignoring his jibe as Steede snorted down at them.

If only the Headmaster would move a bit more under him, the horse could very wetly and pungently show him just what he thought of his little comment.

”I believe so. Miss Joiner is waiting outside for you. I will escort you both back to the castle. Hagrid will care for your beast,” Snape said, walking out the door.

”Beast? I’ll beast him,” Steede growled in a low voice.

”I’ll see you later this evening Steede. I’m not going to trust your care to a stranger,” Artimus reassured him.

”All right. I’ll just hang around until then,” Steede said, then showed his teeth at Artimus when he guffawed. Steede hadn’t meant the pun and didn’t find it amusing at all.

”Humans,” he snorted to himself as Artimus exited the stable. “They have the most twisted sense of humor in the animal kingdom.”

Dahlia was outside talking to Hagrid when Artimus exited. He had asked for time alone with Steede, and Dahlia left so the half-giant wouldn’t feel alienated, although Artimus didn’t give a damn how alienated the big bastard felt. He started all this trouble in the first place.

”Are you ready,” she asked him softly, noticing how drawn Artimus looked. He had been very worried about Steede.

”For anything,” Artimus said pointedly, looking at Snape with challenge in his eyes.

Snape sighed dismissively at his threat.

”Let us go,” he said, striding across the grounds.

”I’ll take good care of yer horse,” Hagrid called after them. The white stallion nickered at Dahlia and nibbled on a bit of grass. By evening he'd be gone. She'd summon him back when she needed him next, probably in four days.

”Thanks Hagrid,” Dahlia said warmly as they followed Snape at a distance, Artimus’ eyes resting on the wizard before him and looking as if he’d like to tackle him.

”Hagrid’s not so bad when he’s not trying to get our wands,” Dahlia said to Artimus, who snorted.

”I don’t trust any of them, especially Snape. Even his name sounds like trouble. I’ll just be glad when we can get back to Finklenook,” the sorcerer replied, still glowering.

Dahlia walked beside him quietly. Maybe if he got a bit of rest, he’d feel better.

Personally, she couldn’t wait to get a gander at Hogwarts.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. ***