Along the journey, Allen finally understood the true meaning behind the term beast tide.
At first, he'd assumed it was just some exaggerated phrase Uagadou had coined to describe the sheer number of magical creatures in the area, kind of like a poetic flourish, similar to how the ancient poet once wrote: "A waterfall plunges three thousand feet, as if the Milky Way fell from the heavens."
But now, he realized it wasn't an exaggeration at all, it was real.
The moment their advance team stepped into the unfamiliar wilderness, the creatures scattered in all directions like waves crashing against the shore. That was the true origin of the term beast tide.
The last time Allen had seen anything remotely was on a wildlife documentary, watching the great mammal migrations of Africa. Herds of zebras and antelopes sprinting across the savannah had stirred up clouds of dust that lingered for hours, an unforgettable scene.
Now, that spectacle was unfolding before his very eyes again. But unlike the peaceful migration of animals seeking water and food, the magical creatures here weren't moving by choice, they had been startled by the magic of the wizards.
Much like how animals instinctively remember the destruction caused by wildfire, these magical beasts remembered past purging operations conducted by wizards, and reacted as though another disaster had come.
"Haha! Look over there, so many magical beasts have built up over the years... Look at that ridge, fox-rabbits! Absolutely overrun!" Dipan pointed excitedly at a group of fleeing creatures as he spoke to Allen and the others.
They saw a type of grey rabbit with a thick, fluffy tail. It was so unremarkable among the crowd that Allen found it hard to distinguish, it was like playing a matching game in expert mode.
He really couldn't be blamed. With so many magical creatures running around in every shape and size, his first thought was that it looked like one of those puzzle games with dozens of cartoonish animals in neat little rows…
"What a shame this is during a beast tide," said Emma, the female Quidditch player, with a theatrical sigh. "I was going to give each of you a cloak made from fox-rabbit fur as a parting gift. Flying in one is heavenly. Cuts your body weight by a third! The only downside is it's banned in official matches... which is such a waste."
Everyone nodded in unison. As Quidditch players, they all shared one common trait, flight fanatics. Not being allowed to use something that improved flight was practically criminal!
But it was pointless.
The rule that no materials from beast tides could be harvested or taken was absolute.
The most they could do was eat a bit during the expedition, but once the hunt was over, even taking a sliver of jerky back was forbidden.
The first day of the journey went rather smoothly. Though the scenery was monotonous at best, everyone was in high spirits.
That was thanks in large part to their guide-slash-narrator, Dipan.
You could tell he had aced his Care of Magical Creatures classes, if Uagadou had such a subject, that is. Privately, Allen suspected they probably called it something more like Magical Creature Control.
Like a walking, talking Pokédex, Dipan could identify every creature they encountered and describe its habits and uses with perfect clarity. The Hogwarts students were amazed.
It was no wonder, they only knew magical beasts from textbook illustrations. And their own professor, the one in charge of magical creatures, was still stuck guarding the school grounds... a professor who, much like the ever-boring Professor Binns, had a knack for keeping all useful knowledge bottled up like dumplings in a teapot, but never poured out.
Thanks to Dipan's detailed explanations, the Hogwarts students finally began to match the creatures they were seeing with the blurry illustrations they'd memorized from books.
That evening, they had their greatest success of the day, a delicious meal, thanks to Allen and a fellow Hufflepuff named Brent.
What's that? You don't see the connection?
Oh, don't be ridiculous, of course there's a connection!
Helga Hufflepuff, the famed founder and a legendary magical chef, left behind a veritable treasure trove in her house common room, a collection of enchanted cookbooks containing her life's research into culinary magic.
Generations of hardworking Hufflepuffs had inherited that passion, and thanks to a well-stocked Hogwarts kitchen and the tireless support of the house-elves, they maintained a proud tradition: a weekly feast every weekend in the common room.
Some of those recipes even contained excerpts from Helga's travel diary through Africa, half a book's worth of notes, detailing local ingredients and the ideal ways to prepare them.
Unfortunately, due to centuries of limited ingredient access and lack of cultural exchange, many of those recipes had been forgotten or misunderstood.
But today, today, the ancient Hogwarts cookbook and fresh African ingredients met again, and the resulting flavor explosion was magical.
Dipan wiped his greasy mouth and snapped his fingers. Instantly, both his hands and lips were spotless.
He patted his stomach and let out a regretful sigh. "That was amazing. Shame it's all gone."
Allen and Brent could only chuckle dryly.
They'd made enough food for twenty people, and Dipan alone had eaten enough for three.
"We're out of seasoning," Brent said with a scowl. "If you don't want bland food tomorrow, I suggest you stop asking for more."
Dipan gave a sheepish grin and wisely said nothing more.
After dinner, and a good round of boasting and teasing, Allen, Brent, and Dipan retreated into their tent. The others drew lots to decide who'd keep watch for the night.
As the cook and the guide, the three of them were excused from night duty.
The night passed peacefully.
Morning arrived with clear skies, a good sign.
African thunderstorms were no joke; while Allen and the others weren't too worried about getting drenched, muddy terrain was an absolute nightmare for travel.
Valor, Allen's owl, glided down from the top of the tent and let out two low hoots of protest near his ear, clearly annoyed at having stood guard all night.
Allen offered him a piece of leftover fox-rabbit meat. After eating, Valor preened his feathers and perched on Allen's shoulder, promptly falling asleep.
"What a clever little fellow!" one of the boys who had stood watch commented as he approached. "Allen, how did you get him?"
Allen didn't even get a chance to answer before the boy launched into his own story.
"I had my first watch last night, and your owl stayed perched on that tree over there the whole time," he said, pointing toward the large tree by the camp. "Every now and then he'd fly around the perimeter, never far, just keeping an eye out."
"Now my Pip, on the other hand…" He pulled back his cloak, revealing a bat hanging upside down, fast asleep. "Wouldn't stop squawking last night. And when I sent him to deliver a message, he kept stopping mid-flight to snack, absolutely infuriating."
Still, Allen didn't see even a hint of annoyance on his face. Clearly, he was quite fond of his pet.
What a sly guy, fishing for compliments, Allen thought.
So Allen shamelessly dished out a few sincere-sounding praises, and the other boy grinned happily, ending the conversation on a high note.
The sun was shining, the sky was clear, it was a perfect day for adventure.
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