Chapter 25 - The Delictocipard
"The ogre," said Ingrid solemnly, "Is one of the most dangerous creatures you are likely to encounter. Or, rather, the ogress, because the female is far more dangerous than the male."
She looked around the assembled students with evident unease. A lecture room was far from being Ingrid's natural habitat, and it was quite clear to everyone that she would much prefer to be giving her lecture on Sexual Satisfaction for Magical Creatures in the open air rather than inside one of Fessewarts' enclosed chambers where, traditionally, all the professors gave their lectures.
It was nearly a week since Peter's last Figgitch practice, and with the next one looming on Saturday he was once again becoming nervous about both the practice session and the likely treatment from Madam Seleet in Fessewarts' hospital afterwards. He had thought of little else for the last few days, and even the persistent nightmares and even more persistent itching of the clump of green hair just to the right of his genitals shaped exactly like a peacock paled into insignificance beside the potential terrors of Figgitch and Madam Seleet.
Don, as usual, sat next to Peter. He too seemed preoccupied, his thoughts far from Ingrid's lecture. Herniame sat right at the back of the chamber, as far from Peter and Don as it was possible to be without actually leaving the room. Peter had, as he had promised himself and Don, apologised to her as soon as he saw her on that Monday morning.
"Forget it," Herniame had said shortly. "It's not important. I know you didn't mean it, and it doesn't bother me anyway. I know I'm better than them, so if they want to call me a broodpod then let them. I have more important things to worry about."
From then on, Peter only saw Herniame during the various lectures, and when he sat down next to Don she was always as far away from them as she could possibly be and never looked in their direction if she could avoid it. He had no idea where she went the rest of the time, and when he asked Don if he knew, Don only replied distractedly that Herniame was probably studying something up in the Little Bustards tower.
"The risk of meeting an ogre or ogress is quite low," Ingrid continued. "There are many of them in the Frumptious Forest within the perimeter of Fesswarts, but they usually stay where they are. If you see one of them approaching you then you should run in the opposite direction as fast as you can."
"What's any of this got to do with sexual satisfaction?" asked Malcum Plokkoy flippantly. "Are you suggesting we should fuck an ogre from time to time?"
Ingrid stared at him, a bemused expression on her heavy features. "It might prove fatal," she tried to explain above the chuckles from many of the Smotherin students. "That's the point of these lectures. That's why the Ministry has decided I need to teach you all of this. If you understand what drives the magical creature you might encounter, then you have a better chance of surviving when you meet them."
"I'd rather fuck one of them, or even a broodpod, than fuck you," commented Malcum Plokkoy in a whisper that was loud enough to reach the ears of all of the students. Herniame looked furiously at him, but Ingrid appeared not to have heard.
"The ogress," continued Ingrid, "Has a very high sex-drive, much higher than almost any other creature. Unfortunately for her, the ogre doesn't live up to her expectations. In fact, the ogre rarely lives up to anything other than stomping around the countryside uprooting trees that happen to be in his way, which for him is simpler than trying to work out how to go around them. As you will understand, this makes the ogress a little frustrated, and she will take out her frustration on anything and everything she finds around her. If you meet her, the only realistic option is to retreat rapidly."
"You know a lot about ogres," commented Malcum Plokkoy. "Are you related to them?"
Ingrid ignored him, although there was no doubt that this time she must have heard him.
"There's a lot of talk," said Ingrid carefully, "About humans being the only creatures that enjoy sexual activity for pleasure. Some folks say that for all other creatures it's nothing more than instinct for the purpose of reproducing. In my lectures you are all going to learn that this is not so."
Malcum Plokkoy said something about female ogres becoming so frustrated they had to go and do it with other animals, and once again Ingrid ignored him.
"So now," she continued, "We'll all go out to the Frumptious Forest for the second part of this lecture, and we'll see if we can meet a few of our animal friends out there. Just a word of warning before we go: there are quite definitely ogres in the forest, and other creatures far more common and far more dangerous than ogres. Stay together and follow my instructions, and then we'll all avoid any nasty accidents, won't we? Any questions before we leave?"
"Too right," said Malcum. "We're not going. The Frumptious Forest is out of bounds to everyone including professors. Fumblebum said so."
"Ar, Mr Plokkoy," replied Ingrid, apparently noticing him for the first time. "So it is. Fortunately for us, I'm not a professor. Also fortunately for us, I have Chancellor Fumblebum's written permission to take all of you into the Frumptious Forest."
She waved a piece of paper in Malcum's direction.
"It's a different matter, Mr Plokkoy, if you're scared of going into the Frumptious Forest. You're not scared, are you Mr Plokkoy?" she asked.
"Of course I'm not scared. It's a waste of time, that's all," blustered Malcum.
Ingrid nodded slowly. "I'm pleased you're not scared," she told him, "Because those ogresses can smell fear from more than ten miles away, particularly this time of year when the ogres are more interested in keeping warm and sleeping than in anything else. A scared male is just what they're after, and I'm not promising I can protect you if one of them makes an appearance. Come on. This should be interesting."
The group of students followed Ingrid nervously out of the main entrance of the university buildings and across the grounds. Ingrid strode happily in front of them, her mood changing the moment she was outside.
"A beautiful day," she boomed, pointing expansively at the rolling hills and the distant mountains. "What would you give to be one of those wonderful creatures free to enjoy all of this instead of being cooped up inside those dark little buildings. Look at it. Look at it!"
The students looked. The students, in fact, were looking right and left and in every direction from which there was the remotest possibility an ogress or any other strange creature might appear. Malcum Plokkoy kept as near as he could to the middle of the group and between the bulky forms of Germaine Garr and Violet Shaw. Peter found himself right at the back, and next to Herniame.
"You're not nervous?" Peter asked her.
Herniame sniffed contemptuously. "Of course not," she said haughtily.
"You don't think Ingrid is going to try to show us an ogre?" asked Peter, not because he really thought Ingrid was likely to do that but mainly because he wanted to talk to Herniame. It seemed to him as though she had been deliberately avoiding him and Don that week.
"I wouldn't think so," said Herniame. "She was just trying to scare Malcum Plokkoy. He's so rude to her. I suppose she only puts up with it because she's new to giving lectures and she doesn't want to lose her new job. She's wonderful with animals. You'd be surprised what she can get them to do."
"How do you know?" asked Peter in surprise.
"I've been over to her lodge at the edge of the forest three times this week," said Herniame. "She invited me. She really is a fascinating person, although sometimes I don't think she has much sense."
"So that's where you've been," said Peter, much relieved that there was a good reason for Herniame's absences. "I though you were just avoiding me and Don because you were upset with us."
Herniame's face clouded. "I'm upset with
him," she said darkly. "He's going to have all sorts of problems if he carries on with
her the way he is."
"Who?" asked Peter, but Herniame's answer was cut short as Ingrid stopped just in the edge of the forest and beckoned urgently for everyone to gather around.
"Very quiet now," said Ingrid. "She won't come out if there's a lot of noise."
"
Who?" whispered Peter to Herniame.
"The delictocipard," Herniame whispered back. "Listen. I think I can hear it."
Peter stared at her blankly.
"
The creature Ingrid is going to show us," said Herniame as if Peter was stupid. "Oh. I see what you mean. No time now. I'll tell you later."
"'Ere she comes," announced Ingrid happily. "Quiet now. She's a timid little thing."
There was a rustling from the bushed in front of them. Malcum moved backwards immediately although he was already far from the front. There were small squeals from some of the girls right at the front, although whether of fear or of excitement it was impossible to tell.
A face appeared among the leaves of the bushes.
It was not the face of an ogress, nor the face of any creature any of them except Ingrid had ever seen before now. Its big, brown eyes looked cautiously at the group of students.
"Come on now, my beauty," said Ingrid softly. "No one's going to hurt you."
The creature made a little noise, a high, melodic sound that had the slightest suggestion of a baby's cry in it. It trotted out on its four slender legs and stood in front of them with its head turned towards Ingrid.
The effect on almost everyone was immediate. Not one of them could have explained exactly why, but each one of them had an overwhelming desire to go and stroke the strange animal. Its coat shimmered, seeming to some to change colour and to others to be just one colour. No one said anything, but if they had then each student would have asserted that the creature's colour was their own favourite colour.
"Don't move," warned Ingrid quietly. "You'll scare her off if you all move at once. Who wants to be the first to touch her?"
It was clear that no one, not even Malcum Plokkoy, was reluctant to volunteer. He too was entranced by the spell it cast on them all. Only Herniame seemed unaffected.
"Well, Herniame?" said Ingrid, singling her out at once. "Do you want to come and stroke her?"
Herniame shook her head. "No thanks," she said simply. "Why do you call it 'her'?"
"You've been doing your reading," said Ingrid.
"You told me you wanted to show us a delictocipard," said Herniame, watching the creature closely, "So I looked it up."
"All right," agreed Ingrid. "So why don't you tell us all about this beauty here?"
Herniame stepped forward in front of the group. She approached the delictocipard then turned and faced the students. The animal trotted up to her and stood next to her expectantly. Herniame made no move to touch it.
"This delictocipard," she said confidently, "Is a true hermaphrodite. It is both male and female, although it has no external sex organs. It is reputed to be the most sensual creature that has ever existed, but its sensuality is directed at animals that are not of its own species."
"It fucks other animals," said Malcum with a sneer of disgust, the spell of the creature on him broken suddenly.
"Not at all, Mr Plokkoy," said Ingrid, stepping towards Herniame. The delictocipard shied nervously. "If you had listened to Miss Grimwaite you would have heard her say that this beauty has no external sex organs. It reproduces entirely on its own, isn't that right Herniame?"
"Not exactly," said Herniame, "Although I might have misunderstood..."
"Touch it," suggested Ingrid. "Just a little. That won't do anything."
Hesitantly, Herniame put out her hand and touched the shimmering coat of the creature. It pressed towards her affectionately. Immediately she stepped away from the delictocipard, jerking her hand away as though it has just given her an electric shock.
"What did it feel like?" asked Ingrid. "Tell everyone. They all want to know."
There was anger in Herniame's eyes. "You know what it felt like," she said abruptly.
Ingrid nodded. "
I] know," she said. "Or, at least, I know what it felt like when I touched one of them. The others don't know. Why don't you tell them?"
Herniame shook her head. She walked back to the group of students without a word, not looking at anyone and not looking back at the delictocipard.
"All right," said Ingrid, clearly disappointed at Herniame's reluctance. "Let's have someone else."
Unsure of what it had been that had clearly upset Herniame, there was now considerable hesitation among the students to volunteer.
"Come on now," Ingrid encouraged them. "It won't hurt you."
"It hurt Herniame," pointed out Clive Quebec.
"It didn't," disagreed Ingrid. "Herniame," she called, "Tell them. It didn't hurt you, did it?"
"It didn't hurt me," confirmed Herniame quietly.
"Right," decided Ingrid. "No volunteers, so I'll pick someone. Don Weenie, get yourself out here."
Don nervously approached the creature. It looked at him curiously, its big eyes unblinking. As soon as Don touched it his expression changed from timid apprehension to astonished pleasure. He stroked the delictocipard's smooth coat, and as he stroked the creature began to make a gentle sound that was somewhere between the purr of a cat and the happy grunt of a pig.
"Steady!" advised Ingrid. "Oops. Too late!"
The delictocipard gave a shudder and squealed as though it was in pain. It froze, its whole body rigid and its eyes tightly shut. Don did not seem to notice. He went on stroking it, completely oblivious to its sudden strange behaviour and to everything else around him. It was only when the delictocipard relaxed that Don seemed to come out of the trance-like state that had overcome him. His hand dropped, and he stared at the creature and then at his surroundings as if startled to see where he was and to realise what he was doing.
"Oh," he said.
"Oh indeed," said Ingrid, a wide grin on her broad face. "As you can all see, the delictocipard has an interesting effect on nearly everyone who touches it. Our beautiful friend her has, with Don's help, just become pregnant. We should expect to see one or possibly two little delictocipard's in around six months. Watch closely now. Something special is about to happen."
The delictocipard gave another shudder. Its head turned to look back along its sleek body, an expression on its face that could only have been one of excited contentment. A bulge appeared by its shoulder, and grew steadily. The creature nuzzled at the bulge and then started to bite at its own skin as if trying to free whatever was growing so rapidly inside.
Don's eyes were wide with astonishment. "It's giving birth
now?" he asked in amazement and disbelief.
Ingrid laughed softly. "Of course not," she said. "I told you that it takes around six months. This is something very different; something that will help our beauty to look after herself and to find the right place to give birth when she is ready. Keep watching. Not many people have ever seen this."
All the students watched, fascinated, as the split in the delictocipard's skin, started by its own teeth, lengthened. The creature turned its attention to its other shoulder where a similar bulge was growing steadily. It gave a cry of pain that sounded very human, and from each of its shoulders burst a broad, long, and beautifully feathered wing.
The delictocipard examined each wing in turn, dragging the bedraggled feathers between its teeth to straighten them, then shook the wings proudly before folding them neatly over its back.
"Ah, my beauty," said Ingrid proudly. "You're going to be a wonderful mother, that's for sure."
She turned to the students once again. "Does anyone have any questions?" she asked.
"Yes," said Barbara Lam, a studious looking girl from Suckenpuff, "I do. It's not possible."
"Not possible?" Ingrid appeared not to understand.
"Not possible," said Barbara Lam firmly. "No creature could make itself pregnant. It could never have evolved. It couldn't evolve. Not only that, a species that did that couldn't survive long even without ever changing. It takes the DNA from two separate individuals to avoid all sorts of problems like recessive mutations. That's even true for most plants, so it's never going to work for an animal, however magical it might be."
"Very good," agreed Ingrid. "Very scientific. Let's put it simply: the delictocipard cannot reproduce entirely on its own. It needs the touch from another creature, in this case firstly from Herniame and secondly from Don. Herniame's touch was not sufficient to stimulate the physical reaction inside the delictocipard, but there's no doubt in my mind it was sufficient to pass the required DNA across. Don's touch did stimulate the necessary reactions, and I'm quite sure his DNA went over too. So, Don and Herniame, you can be proud of your status as parents of Fessewarts newest delictocipard in a few months!"
There was uproar from the students. The cries of disbelief, not least from Herniame and from Don, died away slowly as Ingrid refused to be contradicted.
"No," she said firmly, "It's unusual for any species to be able to make use of the DNA from a totally different species, but I can assure you that the delictocipard has been doing it for thousands of years. It extracts only what it needs, of course. Don't think our little baby will come out looking like Don or Herniame! It doesn't work like that. It will be a perfect baby delictocipard, and that's all there is to it."
With Ingrid's lecture over, the students started to make their way back to the university buildings. Don seemed to be in a hurry, and Herniame had already disappeared way ahead of anyone else.
"Hang on, Don," Peter called him. "No need to be embarrassed. I wanted to talk to you."
"I'm not embarrassed," said Don, looking back at Peter over his shoulder. "It's that bloody delictocipard.
I need to change my underwear."
Susan Strict's books are available from A1 Adult eBooks
