Figured Bass

Figured Bass

There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres.

Pythagoras of Samos

A giant took her hand. "Are you ready?" he asked, his baritone voice gentle.

Hermione looked around and, at a distance, saw an enormous sphere-shaped area in the midst of blue. Earth... she thought in wonder.

Hermione felt the rumble before the bass reached her ears, as strong, as savoury as she'd heard twice before. When she absorbed its tones, she felt a gentle nudge and looked to the side, meeting the giant's eyes. He pointed to the distance, and Hermione noticed that not far from earth was now another planet, this one in deep hues of red. Mars... The moment the thought was complete, cello joined bass to play in harmony. She leant back against the ground and absorbed the celestial interaction of bass and cello, their low tones pleasantly pulsating somewhere deep inside her. When a viola joined for the third sequence, she idly looked to see which planet had materialised. It was not a planet this time. The moon... The accord the three heavenly bodies provided with their sounds made Hermione wish to never leave this meadow. The masterworks of Mozart, Bach, even Beethoven paled in comparison to the music these planets had to offer.

"I know I'm late," the hag growled and scrutinised Narcissa.

She really is a hag, the witch thought with a bout of disgust. Luce was right. She recalled her son's letter she'd received earlier and managed a smile. "It's fine. I enjoyed the forest while waiting." It would not do to attract the hag's wrath; it was enough that she refused to talk to Lucius. Although, Narcissa admitted to herself, sitting in the clearing for an hour or two had engulfed her in peace the kind of which she didn't remember experiencing ever before.

"You want something." The hag moved too close to Narcissa.

"I..." Narcissa stood up from the tree stump to put some distance between herself and the old witch. "A Healer told us about you. She said you may be able to help a friend we're looking after. He was bitten by a snake and has been in a coma since. It's been well over a year now, and while we've managed to keep him alive, there's been no progress." Narcissa cast a hopeful glance at her.

The hag cackled. "Lyra has heard the rumours, too, then." She scrutinised Narcissa again, but this time, thankfully, she kept a foot's distance.

"Rumours?"

"Rumours," the hag confirmed. "Nothing definite up until today. Today changed everything in that respect." She cackled again before something on the ground a short distance away diverted her attention momentarily. "Accio." She suddenly held a large cep in her hand. "Gorgeous."

Narcissa smiled. "I've come to enjoy mushrooms, although I've never found them in the wild."

"Of course you wouldn't." The hag's sneer painfully reminded Narcissa of Severus's better...waking...days, and desperation at her friend's state engulfed her. Then, still holding her prize in one hand, the hag's face took on a dreamy expression. "The rumours are true. I heard it. It is why I couldn't meet you earlier."

"What rumours? I don't know what you are talking about," Narcissa said, her tone exasperated even to her own ears.

"Silly witch," the hag grumbled with disdain. "The music," she said, as if all the secrets of the universe could be found in those two words.

"The... music?" Narcissa frowned, trying to find some...any...memory from her years of education that might help make sense of the words.

The hag regarded her like one would a wayward child and let out a sigh. Then, in a strangely lucid manner, she said, "There have been whispers about someone coaxing the music of the spheres again. Today, the rumour has been proven correct." Her laugh was callous. "It's a young one that one is. The bass is sounding metallic all around, the Ut string of the cello is not properly tuned yet, but alas. She'll get there, fret not." For the first time in the entire conversation, the hag sounded not unfriendly. "She has help now from the cosmos. Even coaxed the moon into joining." The cackle that followed had an almost affable ring to it.

Narcissa had read about the rare cases of the music of the spheres playing and the occasions the music had healed. She'd never known whether or not to believe it, for there was very little evidence. "But... but how will this help my friend?" she asked, not daring to hope.

The hag snorted. "Gee, and you call yourself educated? I guess that kind of thing isn't taught at Hogwarts, eh?" Another sigh escaped her. "Let me spell it out for you," she said, again in a manner of one humouring an evidently slow child. "The music of the spheres is heard once every two hundred years in a good era, once in a thousand in a not so good one. When it's cast on someone, or rather, coaxed into playing for someone, no matter how sick they are, they'll heal instantly. But to be able to summon it can take years. That said, the rumours have only been going for a little while, a few months, and I know for a fact that three planets are already actively playing the instruments. Once the violins start in earnest, the harmony will strengthen and attract other planets, and even entire galaxies, to join in."

Narcissa took a deep breath, acute hope stroking her like the midday sun on a summer's day. "So, how can I convince that person to heal my friend?"

The hag cackled again. "You can't."

Narcissa frowned. "It's my only hope, you know? The Healer, Lyra, she is good, but at her wits' end. Keeping him alive is all she can do." She cast a hopeful glance at the hag.

The old witch looked thoughtful for a moment. "It'll all play out in the end." She shrugged. "Where there is a will, there is a way. Maybe I'll know more in a month's time. Come back after the next full moon." She turned to leave, but then faced Narcissa again, holding out the mushroom. "Here. Take it. I'll find more."

Before Narcissa could thank her, the hag had disappeared.

Hermione stretched languorously, but suddenly stilled at the memory of the music floating to the front of her mind. It was only a dream... She sat up in bed and shook her head. Maybe it was more than that... Low tones of bass and cello drifted into her consciousness. The sounds of viola remained absent. Maybe... maybe if I go outside... Her recent Arithmantic calculations had confirmed that she was, at this point, ninety-six times more likely to hear the music in the forest than indoors.

Her mind made up, she swung her legs over the bed's edge and headed for the bathroom. Ready to face the day, Hermione entered the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. She smiled to herself when she saw the small basket filled with eggs she'd picked up from a nearby homestead the previous day. "Hm. Scrambled eggs with that baby penny bun, grated in paper-thin slices, sound yummy."

The sky was a soup of various grey hues, and the scent of rain filled the air as Hermione left to go for a walk in the forest. She stopped momentarily, as the first drops fell, to apply rain-repelling charms to her clothing and hair. Her steps led her up the hill, away from the deciduous woods into the pine forest. She spotted three clusters of three chanterelles each, growing in a triangular fashion...How strange... the same moment the low tones of the bass reached her ears. Hermione stopped abruptly and sat down to listen.

Yes! The contrabass had gained quality, its hum no longer so pungent, though equally strong, with an almost tender purr to it, like a deep voice speaking of love. The cello, once it joined, sounded better... better tuned. When the viola gently voiced its opinion, Hermione was not surprised, although pleased that she was able to hear the third instrument outside a dream.

And then, the music was gone. Damn. The rain became more persistent, and soon, the charms she'd placed lost their efficacy. Carefully picking and then cleaning the mushrooms to allow their spores to spread, she decided the day was better spent indoors. Some serious Arithmantic calculations were called for.

Hermione sighed at the realisation that the mushroom season was coming to an end. It was early October now, and the moment the first frost hit, the best she could hope for were some honey fungi. The watercress had already stopped growing in readiness for the dark months. No matter, she thought. I'll still be able to go for walks, even if I don't bring anything back... And I have plenty of dried mushrooms for the winter...

Back at the cottage, she settled on the sofa in the living room and spelled the coffee table to a more comfortable height to write on. Numbers and musical notes spilled onto the parchment in front of her, rearranging themselves in an apparently haphazard manner.

Hermione stared gloomily at the parchment until, quite suddenly, three numbers and six notes settled onto it, and the parchment stopped moving. Three, six, and nine were written all over the parchment, in various manners: Western numbers, then Roman ones followed by Hebrew, Greek, and, finally, Sanskrit. The musical notes throughout were C, D, E, F, G, and A. What is the meaning of this? she wondered, narrowing her eyes and unable to make any sense of her work whatsoever. She watched a rune appear on the left of the parchment near the top: Raidho. Hah! I wish I could see a larger perspective!

She felt cold. The rain had increased in intensity as the day wore on, and the temperature had now dropped significantly. Hermione rose from the sofa and moved to light a fire. Nearly winter, she thought, sighing. Her eyes rested on the strange clock on the wall. The music started again. Bass, most perfect, met a pristinely tuned cello and was shortly followed by violas. Hermione's eyes widened. Right there, in front of her, was the answer. She was rooted to the spot, though, the music keeping her utterly captive.