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Hermione’s PoV

Hermione slipped out of the library and scurried down the stone halls, carrying three large tomes under her robes. She crouched at a corner and peered cautiously down the hall. The clone trooper sent to escort her, Duff, they had called him, caught up with her.

“Why are we looking at books when we could be fighting that owl woman straight on?” he asked impatiently, adjusting his blaster.

“These will give us more information about Macha. They’re all about Irish myths,” Hermione said, scanning the titles.  “Perhaps they will expose one of her weaknesses, or something that will help us beat her.”

“If we just had some more manpower we wouldn’t need to know her weakness. We’d be able to take her down by our own strength,” Duff said.

“Knowledge is a more effective weapon than brute force, in my opinion,” Hermione said primly, raising her nose.

“Whatever you say, kid. You’re the one in charge.” Duff started down the wide hall leading back to the others.

Without warning the Owl Witch materialized before him in a roar of wind and a flurry of screeching owls. Hermione screamed and Duff stumbled backward in surprise. With one deft movement Macha opened a jar and pointed it at Duff. He cried out in pain and then slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Hermione rushed forward and stood over her fallen clone escort. She pointed her wand up at Macha. With a flick of her wrist she cast an attack spell, though Macha immediately deflected the arrow of magic. Hermione prepared to attack again.

The swirling around Macha slowed, and the Owl Witch extended her claw-like fingers to Hermione.

“You are a very powerful witch, my child,” Macha said.

Hermione said nothing. Macha smiled. Her voice dripped with honey as she continued.

“Perhaps an alliance between us, two very powerful women, would be favorable. I see that you far surpass the powers and wisdom of those two boys. You deserve better than their company.”

Hermione met Macha’s bird-like eyes and stood firm. An amused chuckle escaped Macha’s lips. The Owl Witch went on, unfazed.

“You and I are equals. I can help you become what you are meant to become. I can give you power.”

“I don’t want your help, Macha,” Hermione growled. “You hurt my friends. Why would I go with you?” Hermione brandished her wand at the Owl Witch, though her hand trembled at the sudden flash of anger in Macha’s eyes.

“Are you certain you will not help me?” Macha asked, body tensing even before Hermione responded.

“Yes,” Hermione’s voice quavered. Macha screeched and seemed to grow larger as the wind and owls wailed their terrible cries.

“Remember my offer, child, and while I wait, you will experience the power that could be yours!”

Macha thrust a jar at Hermione and before she could react the magic took effect. Hermione dropped her wand and fell to her knees. With every heartbeat she felt her consciousness flowing from her. She screamed, the world tilted, and then all went dark.