Ye Ol' Author's Note: This story was written for the Houses Competition 2019.

House: Gryffindor

Year: 3

Category: Standard

Prompt: [Speech] "Why is it so cold in this place?" & [Speech] "Tomorrow may come for some, but not for me."

Word Count: 2066

First Blood of Tomorrow: The Goblin Rebellion of 1612

"Why is it so cold in this place?" My voice, scarce more than a whisper, carried o'er the snow-laden grounds. Away from my side, I pulled my hand and betook the blood seeping from the wound. Was my life spent but for this? Hunted, wounded, and without a wand, man doomed to die alone.

"I must…get…to...hog…warts," my breath is ragged, and my vision blurred. I must get to Hogwarts, but now it is too much for me. Now, I must rest.

6 Hours Earlier

"Longbottom!"

In a rush I jerk my head whilst I pocketed into my robes, a letter which had held my attentions. "Aye Sir!"

William Yorkins marched towards me, his robes regally billowing as he strode, "Lestrange desires thee before him."

I startled, for why in Merlin's honoured name would Minos Lord Lestrange, Master of Magical Law Enforcement, Order of Merlin: First Class want to see me, Barnabas Longbottom, an Auror just sworn into service one week hence?

"Do not stand there, lad," Yorkins chastised, "if Lestrange summons thee, make haste and be off to him!"

In obedience did I act. With urgency I travelled the halls. I paused at the door of Lord Lestrange, attempted in vain to tame the hair on my head, which by its nature was messy, and I knocked.

"Enter." Commanded Lestrange.

Inhaling a breath, to calm the jitters within me, I carefully I opened the portal.

The distinguished wizard, of fame and nobility, sat behind his desk of mahogany, writing with a quill, freshly trimmed. His attention raised to me with an eyebrow arched in the form of a question, "Yes?"

Clearing my throat, "Thou wished, my lord, to see me?" I nervously asked.

"Aye, thou art Longbottom, correct?"

"Aye, sir."

"Splendid." A parchment he produced, "I have investigated thy training at Avalon. In espionage thou earned merits."

"Aye," replied I rather surprised.

"And performed thou admirably a duellist."

"Aye," then adding humbly, "be I far from the most skilled duellist out of my comrades, but many victories have I gained.

"I care not for thy humility, but for thy deeds. For it is a man of deeds I so desire."

"Thou desire me, my lord?"

"Aye, Longbottom," said Lestrange, "a mission I have for thee, if thou will accept."

"A mission, my lord, only say the word and I shall be off at once!"

A smile did grace the handsome features of the lord at my words. Obedience was a virtue of value within the Auror ranks; and obedience paired with the ambition and exuberance of youth was a force with which to reckon.

"Thy mission, Longbottom: Make way to Hogsmeade town, find thee there a goodly barkeep, Mathias MacBell, and he will direct thee towards the upper room where figures of suspect do meet." I rose to my feet, following the actions of my superior, "There is a rumour there, that the Goblins of who do meet at the inn, connive a plot most sinister. Gather thee proof of their treason and return thee hence."

"Aye my lord, be it done."

"Go forth, Longbottom, for Magic and Country."

"For Magic and Country."

With haste did I make my way to my simple domicile. From the Floo, 'cross my hearth, to my bed where conjured I a sack in which I deposited spare robes, rolls of parchment, and quill and ink. Filling a flask, and my purse, I left my house and apparated to the town of Hogsmeade. I felt great excitement, and youthful energy did flood my veins. A mission of my own, the first of many I was sure, for Lord Lestrange did choose me over all others for this task. Indeed, this quest was not one in which I might gain worship and lauds, but by its completion, I might achieve notoriety amongst my comrades and commanders.

In the hew of this excitement did I see Hogsmeade. The folks of the town were erranding about with the bustle of London. Each of them quite too concerned by their own tasks to give thought to a young Auror such as myself. The shop windows were alight with the trimming of Christmas, the happy feast soon coming. Outside of the inn, carollers with merriment sang the hymns of the Nativity for the passer-by to hear. Compelled by charity, I tossed two knuts in their coffers, before crossing the inn's threshold.

Roaring fires and roaring laughter did I abruptly meet. Jolly indeed this Scotsmen seamed with Firewhiskey in hand and belly, ready to give a warm welcome to any and all as he had to me. A massive hand did clap my shoulder.

"Come in and drink ye with me!" he cried, assaulting my senses with his stale breath.

"Leave 'im alone!" a stouter fellow barked, whilst pulling his friend away, "come do as ye please and pay 'im no mind. A t'ousand pardons to ye, sar!"

The reception surprised me. It was sparingly that I ventured to a tavern afore, and I was unaccustomed to manners of those who made frequent ventures to them.

"'Tis nothing to pardon, good fellow," says I in reply, before making my path to the bar and its keep.

"What'll ya be havin', sar?" The portly gentleman with an apron over his robes inquired of me.

"A butterbeer, my man."

His wand waved quick and summoned the libation, "t'ree knuts." He leaned as I procured the payment, "be ye t'e Auror from London?"

"I be. Auror Barnabas Longbottom, at thou service."

"Mat'ias MacBell at yars. I be all mighty glad ye came, Auror, 'em golblins be up to sumtin an' I don' like it."

"Goblins?"

"Aye, golblins, a nasty lot of 'em too."

"What be the concern?" I queried of the barman, for I knew this to be the start of my investigation.

"Like I says, t'ere's a lot of 'em, mayhap a score, and t'ey come in nigh closin' time and set away from t'e ot'er patrons, which mind us none, no one 'ere partic'larly care for t'em. But t'ey've been comin' a lot an' t'ey been wisp'rin' an' gittin' shifty." The barkeep warily cast a glance to the far corner, "lately t'ey been stayin' aft I be closed. T'ey're mumblin' as golblins do, but I 'ears t'em say sum nasty t'eens 'bout wizards, an' I even did 'ear sumtin like rebellin'."

His last words did give me start, for Goblins be prone to insurrection, as be their troublesome nature.

"Know thou more of their plot?"

"Ney, t'ey be quiet when I am n'ar t'em."

I pause and partake of my butterbeer, giving ponder to the knowledge I had newly gained. McBell, being summoned by his patrons, left me to my own contemplations. The goblins may well be plotting treason and rebellion, but I must have certainty with nary a doubt. I knew it to be imperative that I give ear to their conspiracies. After hearing for myself whether there be treachery at hand with the goblins, I might complete my report and

"Tell me, sir, where might I hear their convers without them knowing my person?"

The barkeep gave pause before shaking his head in the affirmative, "T'ey all be stayin' in a room t'night, ye mayhap can listen from t'e door, if ye be careful."

It was settled for me, I would tarry in Hogsmeade until the eve had set, and the vagabonds retired to their rooms. Then, would I know their plans.

Through the kitchen door of the inn I crept, my charmed feet causing no greater a noise than the dust. The embers of the fires burned low in the dark and the moon did shine through the windows illuminating my course to the Goblins' room. Rapidly did my heart beat within my breast, for though many a time did I perform a task like unto this in my training, to be executing an act of espionage with true stakes caused the nerves that escort youth in its inexperience to rise in full.

The stairs stayed silent as I ascended towards my quarry. A fire's light did flicker through the crack beneath the door, and measured voices carried through the wood.

"…thou be certain the preparations be ready for tomorrow, Grohook?" a sinister voice of a goblin said.

"Aye, be they set, replied another.

"And they be hidden?"

"Well hid indeed, the wizards shalt be not wise onto the happenings until they have been beset." Boasted a third voice.

"It is good they suspect nothing. The rebellion does hinge on surprise."

"And surprised will they be, when the castle erupts in flames."

"Hath thou tended to the barkeep, Gaturth?" the first speaker inquired.

"Aye, Yakely be returning nigh with Jorsen. No more will the wizard bother us."

"Once he is dead, and the inn be ours, be ye sure to fortify the portals and bar all entry to wizards."

My shock upon eavesdropping this dire conversation, was surmountable. These goblins were ready to revolt against the wizarding government and prepared to inflict much harm to the citizens of Wizarding England. The castle of which they spoke most certainly was Hogwarts, the famed school of magic. No doubt did I have they would attempt to do it harm. Well as they spoke already, the poor MacBell may be slain by their menacing comrades. With this intelligence, turned I away from the door to make way for London with my report. Lord Lestrange must know this immediately and mount a response versus these goblin usurpers.

"What ho?" a brace of goblins parked before me, the first holding a blade painted with blood, his companion wore a look most evil.

"Thou be a fool, wizard," spake the knife laden fiend, "only death await thee now."

As the words left his mouth, the door at which I had listened opened and a score more goblins poured forth.

Verily I was entrapped. Goblins before me, goblins behind, no escape did I readily see. No fear did I have, however for I had trained for this at Avalon. From my side I drew my wand of hawthorn and with practiced speed, cast my first spell upon the traitors.

"Stupify!" the nearest imp fell before the spell, but the others charged me. "Pertifcus Totallis! Stupify! Stupify!" My wand did wave, and spells smite my foes, but their numbers proved their advantage. Instantly they were upon me, and I felt a pain in my side. Another stunner did I cast, then strike the head of a goblin with my fist. They clawed, cut, and bit at me.

In haste I cast a spell which liberated myself from their menacing grasps. My enemies fell away, their hands stinging fierce, but one held on. He grabbed hold of my wand, and with his knife cut it from my grasp. Striking his ugly face, I pushed away from him, turned and apparated from the inn.

My feet did meet the ground and a fell to my face and released a howl of pain. My hand held to my side, attempting to stay the flow. Dizziness consumed me as I forced my feet beneath me and stood. I chanced a glance and my right hand and saw the blood where once fingers had been. My wand was lost, held by the same fiend who now had my digits.

Make haste! My mind did scream to me, be off to London, give warning of the rebellion! I stepped forward, but again fell. I lacked the strength to walk, much less apperate, but I must alert Lord Lestrange of the rebellion. Afar in the night, could I see the lights of Hogwarts castle. It was there the goblins did aim to strike, if I could reach there before dawn, they might be warned, and send word to the aurors. With my mangled hand I reached ahead, grabbed the snowy earth and dragged myself forward. Again, did I repeat the motion, gaining ground towards my destination.

As the minutes dragged on, so did my body. The chill of the winter attacked my bones, draining me of any remaining strength.

I must rest, yes rest, I would rest, but if I rest now, I knew I would rest forever. As the goblins rebelled tomorrow and burned Hogwarts, I would rest. Rest today, rest tomorrow. Closing my eyes, I murmured to the wind.

"Tomorrow may come for some, but not for me."