Down the Rabbit Hole

A/N: Obviously not mine. That distinction goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling, and the even more wonderful Anne Walsh.

Galvin Gudgeon frantically searched through his notes. He ignored the mess his ink-stained hands made on the scrolls as he carelessly shoved his notes to the floor.

"Where is it?" He picked up a scroll, opened it, then scowled and threw it back down. "It should be here!"

He shoved a bundle of scrolls off his chair, and sat down with a heavy thump. He leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. Damn it. He leaned back and scowled at the desk in front of him.

Think about this… You're a Ravenclaw, damn it! Smartest of the Smart! You should be able to figure this out.

He got up and stalked to the doorway and, about to slam it shut behind him, glanced back at the boys asleep in the dorm. He grimaced, but quietly shut the door behind him. I have apparently lost my notes. He kicked at the stairs and began walking down towards the common room. He passed one level, then another, finally arriving at the common room. He sat in a chair in a corner, and glared at the fireplace at the far side of the room.

I can't write my essay without my notes. And if I don't write my essay… 'Ol Flitwick says he'll kick me off house team. He scowled. He doesn't have that kind of authority. He thought bitterly. He's not Head of Ravenclaw yet.

He dropped the scowl, and leant back in the chair, covering his eyes with a hand. I can't quit quidditch! How will I get picked up by a national team if I don't play? And sure, I've got a few years yet, but still!

"Stupid professor." He shoved himself out of the chair and walked to the fireplace. "Maybe if I asked for an extension?" He began to pace. "That wouldn't work. Not after all the other essays I've forgotten to do."

"Merlin!" He stopped in front of the fireplace. "I want to play quidditch! I'm excellent! I'm a brilliant seeker! As long as I play, I'm sure to get picked up by a good team." He grinned at the fireplace as he gave in to the quick daydream.

The smile dropped off his face. "No thanks to Flitwick." He kicked the corner of the fireplace. "Why did he have to be in my house? Why not Slytherin? He's sneaky enough to be there!" His eyes drifted to the blue banners hanging from the walls. Stupid. He frowned. Stupid Ravenclaw. He turned back to the fire and glared at the flames.

He glanced around the common room. Damn it. "Thank you Rowena Ravenclaw," he ground out, "For having such standards that stupid Flitwick would…" He turned back to the flames.

He blinked.

There was a hole beside the fireplace.


Galvin stared at the hole. Neat! He completely forgot about quidditch, essays, and Flitwick.

He leaned over through the hole and looked down it. There appeared to be some sort of slide. He brushed a hand across it. Eww. Slimy. Galvin made a face and tried to flick the dirt off his hands. He eyed the slide, dubiously. Do I really want to go down there?

A grin. Hell yeah! He carefully pulled himself up onto the ledge before the slide, grimacing at the slimy feel. He put his hands to the side of the tunnel and used it to shove off.


Galvin held his hands in front of him as he rapidly fell down the slide. Oh Merlin! This was a bad idea. He yelped as he fell through what felt like an entire colony of spiderwebs. He screamed as the floor opened up beneath him. Galvin fell through the air and hit a giant bed. What the…? He jumped up, fighting with the quilt, trying to get off the lush bed. He reached the edge and fell to the floor, scrambling backwards away from the bed. When he hit the wall he pulled himself up, wildly brushing at the dirt and cobwebs on his robes.

His gaze circled the room. From the floors to the walls the color blue dominated the room. His eyes stopped on a door across the room. He sprinted for it and opened the door.

All that was on the other side was a big dining room. He ignored the table and chairs in the middle and looked for more doors.

There were seven circling the room, each with a colored banner above them. He headed immediately to the room to his left. I've got to get out of here! Or I'll never play quidditch again! The thought galvanized him, and he grabbed for the doorknob of the next door.


Six doors, two temper tantrums, and one quick break to do the "Happy Quidditch Dance" when he'd found the indoor quidditch pitch, and he was still nowhere. He retreated to the quidditch pitch and sat, leaning against one of the small goal posts. How do I get myself into these messes? He knocked his head back against the goal post. Ow. There must be some way to get out of this? He stared up towards the ceiling of the room. He couldn't see the top of it.

And like that the idea came to him. House-elves.

Galvin nervously cleared his throat. "Could I please get a house-elf here?" He paused, unsure if just asking like that would work.

A small popping sound and a house-elf appeared.

"Can I be serving you, sir?" He asked, timidly.

"Yes! Thank Merlin, yes! I want to leave! I don't want to ever come back! I don't want that stupid hole in the wall in the common room anymore!" Galvin began throwing out requests, relieved that the house-elf had appeared. "I don't want to ever have to think about this ever again!" He paused for breath.

The house-elf blinked, then snapped his fingers once.

Galvin blinked and looked around. He was standing in the middle of one of the corridors on the second floor. Bewildered, he looked down the hall. "Huh." Suddenly he wasn't so worried about missing one essay. He headed west, down the hall, toward the dorms. "Maybe I'll go ask Flitwick for that extension"