The Life Aquatic with Lupin, Maturin, and Nemo

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

It was early morning, and Lupin was shivering on the shores of Hogwarts Lake. Somewhere out there in the murky water, the grindylow were going through their spring hatching. There were important observations to be made: did the grindylow raise their young like mammals, or abandon them like some reptiles? What did baby grindylow eat? Which parent (if any) took care of them? Were grindylow prone to cannibalism of their young like many species? He was going to find out.

He was wearing a pair of very old swimming trunks, unused since his previous grindylow study fifteen years ago, and a threadbare, oversized T-shirt that had once belonged to Sirius - both a disguise for his scars and a sort of good luck talisman. He had with him his wand, two pads of paper charmed to stay dry underwater, and a camera and a stopwatch which were similarly charmed. He felt like the Muggle explorer Jacques Cousteau, and kept half-expecting a French voiceover to start describing his mission.

He wrapped his arms around himself to stay warm, and waited for Maturin to arrive. He wasn't sure if Nemo had been turned back into a fish yet or not, but hopefully he had been restored to his natural form and would be along as well. This was going to be an interesting adventure.

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[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Holding Nemo's little bubble of water in one hand, Lupin examined the ball of gillyweed with some distaste, waded into the water and popped it in his mouth. It reminded him unpleasantly of the time Tonks had insisted he try sushi at a Japanese restaurant.

Almost immediately, he felt as if he was being smothered, and ducked under the water, letting go of Nemo as the gillyweed took full effect. The intensely cold water now felt comfortably cool, and he blinked in the submarine twilight, examining his webbed fingers and toes with interest, palpating the gill slits in his neck. How wonderful and strange, to be underwater and not need to breathe - quite different from his previous experience, which was more like wearing a diving helmet. He waved at Nemo and looked around to see if Stephen was all right.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Stephen had already submerged. The sensation of gillyweed-induced change took him by surprise, even though reading had prepared him with a general idea of what to expect. He was tempted to spend more time taking notes on the transformation process than on the grindylow hatching. However, there was plenty of gillyweed and plenty of time to experiment therewith, whereas the life cycle of the grindylow would wait for nothing. Through the wavy dimness he looked for the shadowy form of Lupin and the bright flash of color that would be Nemo.

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

He'd had the foresight to attach a Muggle ballpoint pen to each pad of paper with a bit of string, but writing with webbed fingers turned out to be more difficult than he was anticipating. He scribbled, Grindylow are in the weeds down there in the deeper water. Look for clusters of eggs like bunches of grapes. Mum and dad grindylow may be hanging about so be careful. If we get separated and you get into trouble, send up a flare with your wand.

He held the pad of paper out to Stephen, who looked to be in no distress from his transformation, and indeed seemed understandably intrigued by his newly-acquired amphibious attributes. Hopefully he would be able to read Lupin's handwriting.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Stephen had never been what one would call a graceful swimmer even when swimming purposely rather than merely falling between the dinghy and the ship proper. In gillyweed-altered form, with no need to break the surface and with webbed hands and feet, he experienced for the first time complete ease in the water. It was extraordinary. Everything felt different. He wished he had had this in the ocean instead of a diving bell.

Keeping hold of the notebook, with attached pen, and his wand at the same time were not the simplest thing in the world with newly altered hands, but could be managed well enough. Surprisingly, his vision was not excessively impeded by the water -- another effect of the gillyweed? was this how Nemo saw in the water all the time? -- and he was able to decipher Lupin's handwriting without too much difficulty. (It was better than his own on land.)

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Lupin was also taking pleasure in his ease of movement; his body was so unreliable, and so frequently a source of pain, that weightlessness and freedom was a very welcome thing indeed. Judging by his expression, Stephen seemed to be enjoying himself as well. That was good.

Seeing that Stephen understood his note, he tucked the notebook back into the satchel he'd brought with him, which fortunately didn't impede his swimming too much. He took out the stopwatch and got it going, holding it up to Stephen to show how much time they had left: a little less than an hour until the gillyweed wore off. Then he started swimming down into the deeper water, looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure that Stephen and Nemo were following.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Stephen followed easily and with a swiftness that surprised him; he had no idea it was possible to swim this quickly, even though he had seen Jack do it (without benefit of gillyweed) often enough. Aquatic plants were fascinating in their own right, and scanning them for grindylow eggs no chore at all.

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Lupin spotted the tell-tale bundle of eggs from a few feet away, attached to some narrow-leaved water plant that Stephen probably knew the name of. He put a hand on Stephen's shoulder to get his attention, gestured for him to stop, and pointed out the eggs.

(Touching the man's bare skin, warm in the cool water, elicited an uncomfortable sense-memory of their previous awkward encounter, but he steadfastly ignored it in the name of scientific inquiry.)

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

The eggs were clustered against one of the long stalks of a plant Stephen recognized. He wrote its name on the notepad for Lupin's benefit. Najas fragilis -- 'slender naiad' -- n. Europe, also New World. Then, as an afterthought, Ripe to hatch? which referred not to the plant of course but to the grindylow eggs, translucent, bulging with dark life.

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

They look ready, Lupin wrote back. He dug out the camera and took a photo, although in the dim light it probably wouldn't turn out very well. He didn't dare use a flash in case the grindylow parents were around. Oh well, it might look "artistic," at any rate.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Cameras were a development rather after Stephen's time -- the kind used for photography, at any rate; a camera obscura did not quite count when it came to this kind of thing. Curious, he watched Lupin fiddle with the small box, completely unaware that any light was required for it to work well. The water did not quite lend itself to the sketching of grindylow eggs in the notebook, and Stephen gave up an abortive attempt. Will draw them later from memory, he wrote.

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Noticing Stephen's puzzlement, he wrote, This is a device that records images. Might not work though.

The first egg was beginning to hatch and he nearly dropped the notebook in his haste to take notes on what was happening. The translucent shell peeled back and the tiny green creature popped out, its body also slightly translucent. Its horns were mere buds, but its fingers were as long and savagely clawed as an adult's.

More of the little beasts were hatching, and now the two scientists had a melancholy glimpse of what newborn grindylow ate: each other. Lupin made a face as the babies fell on each other until there were only three left. The biggest of the three took it upon itself to eat the remaining unhatched eggs, as well.

Survival of the fittest, he wrote to Stephen, no doubt introducing him to the concept for the first time.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Stephen nodded at Lupin's explanation of the camera; he would want a better look at it later, but for now, the grindylow hatching was beginning!

Lupin's quotation was of course unfamiliar to him; it was appropriate enough for what Stephen saw of the creatures' behavior. In answer, he wrote: Grindylow life: nasty, brutish, and short, paraphrasing (fittingly enough) Hobbes's Leviathan.

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Indeed, Lupin wrote. I don't see the parents anywhere, and we're running out of time. Let's head back and pay a return visit later and see how they're doing.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Fair enough. Sufficient gillyweed to return now if needed. Parents poss. near? scribbled Stephen.

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Could be. Hypothesis - grindylow abandon their young like amphibians or fish. Lupin took out the stopwatch again. There were about fifteen minutes left. He showed it to Stephen and pointed towards the surface.

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

Makes sense. See you on shore. And Stephen was off.

[nemofound.livejournal.com]

Nemo bobbed along in his bubble, keeping up with Stephen easily. He noticed that while the water moved along his body as he was used to, the currents swished the freshwater plants away from his bubble just in time. Apparently, the bubble was enchanted to keep the plants, as well as the fish, in their own home environment.

((Have we a plot plan for what Nemo's role in this is?))

[conriocht.livejournal.com]

Lupin was sure the eggs were going to hatch very soon - they were slightly translucent and he could see shapes inside them struggling to get out.

He wasn't sure if the grindylow had simply abandoned the eggs or if they were around hiding somewhere. He looked up at Nemo and pulled out his notebook again. He wrote, Nemo, can you look out for the mum and dad grindylow while we're watching these eggs hatch and tell us if you see them coming?