Chapter 7 – The Cove and the Courtyard
Cole fell back with Anthony and allowed Stephen to take the lead, as the three of them advanced into the forest. They stuck close to the forest's edge, tripping along on roots, fighting the thickets and general underbrush that clung to their cloaks, and jumping at every little noise until they had finally circled around to the far side of the lake.
"We're going to have to find a better way to get out here if we're going to make a habit of this," Anthony panted out, while clutching at the stitch in his side and leaning back against an ancient tree trunk.
Cole nodded his agreement, doubled over and breathing heavily with his broom propped against a fat root beside him. They had already hiked an hour and that was just to get to the right side of the lake so that they could follow the lake's shore to the cove Stephen had seen. The hike wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been so treacherous. Having to fight for their every step had been exhausting.
"We'll find a way to exit the back side of the castle," Stephen said with certainty, as if it weren't even a question that they'd be making a habit of sneaking out of bounds or that they would find another way out of the castle.
The boys rested a minute longer, before setting off once more. This time following the lake instead of the clearing around the castle.
With his every step further away from the castle and deeper into the forest, Cole felt the familiar thrill that came with doing something he shouldn't, as well as anticipation. He couldn't wait to get up into the air and see if he was going to be any good on a broom. Tryouts for the Quidditch team were supposed to be on Wednesday evening and he and Stephen had already signed up. He really hoped that he wasn't going to make a fool out of himself.
They hiked for an additional twenty minutes before Stephen finally stumbled out of the forest's underbrush and onto a pebbled shoreline tucked away from the rest of the Black Lake by a bar of continued forest wrapping out and around the smooth water of the cove.
"Bloody hell!" Anthony exclaimed, upon him and Cole fighting their way out of the forest and coming to stand on either side of Stephen.
"Great find, mate!" Cole said, his eyes sweeping from the far end of the cove that opened out to the greater part of the lake up to the tops of the ancient trees surrounding them to taking in the sizeable inlet before him, Stephen, and Anthony.
"So long as we stay below the trees, we could be out here all day without anyone the wiser." Stephen grinned and puffed his chest out with pride.
"Let's get up in the air." Anthony tossed his broom on to the ground beside him.
Stephen did the same with his broom and turned to his left to focus his attention on Cole. "We'll show you the basics first and go from there, depending on how good you are."
Anthony snorted. "Stephen, I think the basics are all we'll be covering today. Or have you forgotten your first time on a broom? I know I haven't forgotten mine."
"Don't listen to him," Stephen said seriously to Cole. "You're going to be doing barrel roles by the end of the day and dives by Wednesday. Now, the first thing to do is establish a connection with the broom. Since these brooms are old and have been used by more people than any of us could possibly know, we'll be doing it the old fashioned way. A newer, personal broom you can usually just take off on and be good to go. Here," he stepped back so that Cole had full view of Anthony, "Anthony will show you first."
"So," Anthony gestured to his broom, "broom beside you on the ground like this. Hand out over the broom and ... Up!" The moment that Anthony spoke the command, the broom flew up to his hand and hovered in the air against his palm. "Mount the broom," he swung his right leg over the broom and centered himself, "and make sure to have your dominant hand higher on the shaft than your non-dominant hand, as this give you proper steering." He demonstrated the correct grip. "Then ... you push off." With that, he pushed against ground and took off into the air.
"Wow," Cole breathed out, his eyes wide and mouth gapping in awe. He tracked Anthony's flight around the cove hardly believing what he was seeing. He had mentally understood that they'd be flying on brooms, but to see Anthony up and the air and doing so was a whole different matter. His enthusiasm and anticipation heightened. He forced himself to look away from Anthony and to give his attention to Stephen instead.
"Ready to give it a try?" Stephen asked smugly.
Cole nodded.
"Alright, broom on the ground," Stephen instructed.
Cole tossed his broom on the ground beside him and stepped up to it, as he had seen Anthony do. He held his right hand out over the broom and, upon taking a deep breath, spoke the command. "Up!" The broom twitched. Then, like a magnet to metal, it snapped up against his palm.
"Like I said," Stephen smirked, "barrel roles by the end of the day. Hey, Anthony!" he yelled.
"What?" Anthony yelled back and angled his broom for a fly-by.
"First try!" Stephen yelled and gestured to Cole and the broom hovering beside him.
Anthony grinned and shook his head. "Well, what are you waiting for, Trafalgar," he said to Cole in jest.
Cole swung his right leg over the broom and gripped the shaft with his right hand ahead of his left. "Get flying, Goldstein! You're going to need the head start!"
Anthony waged his eyebrows at Cole and took off for the far end of the cove .
"Okay, steering is pretty basic. You pull the broom in the direction you want to go and lean into the motion. Speed is a bit more difficult. The tightness of your grip and the slid of your grip will increase or decrease your speed. Tighter and forward is faster, tighter and backward is slower. Tight and a fast back is stop altogether," Stephen said quickly. "Got it?"
"Yep," Cole said and kicked off without waiting for any further instruction. The instant that his feet left the ground and he was fully up in the air, he knew that he wasn't going to make a fool out of himself come Wednesday. Exhilaration pounded through his blood and he let out a great "Whoop!", as he took off after Anthony. It was as if he'd been flying all of his life. Speed, steering, the air whipping at his face ... it was all second nature, all familiar and known to him. He didn't have to think about any of it. He flattened himself to his broom, coaxing all the speed he could out of it.
"Yeah!" Anthony yelled, as Cole zipped by him and braked into the curve of the tree line to speed back into the inlet and out of sight of the castle grounds. "We got ourselves a natural!"
As Cole banked the turn to head back out of the inlet and towards where Anthony had stopped to hover, Stephen flew up beside him.
"Do you know what this means?" Stephen asked with a shit eating grin on his face.
Cole shook his head.
"It means we're going to kick some serious Slytherin and Gryffindor ass in Quidditch this year," Stephen said. "But more importantly, it means that you're definitely not a Muggle-born."
"What makes you say that?" Cole asked, slowing with Stephen and coming to a stop facing Anthony.
"Because magical talents can only be passed through the blood," Anthony said with a shit eating grin on his face as well. "But it's not just your flying, Cole – although it definitely proves it. You unlocked the broom shed on your first go, mastered the Light Charm before either of us," he gestured to himself and Stephen, "and turned your match stick into a needle in Transfiguration on Tuesday before anyone else had in the entire class. I mean, you could have been just that good. Some Muggle-borns are, but no Muggle-born could have flown the way you did just now. Not their first time on a broom. You weren't even really thinking about what you were doing, were you?"
"No." Cole looked up, his thoughts muddled with all that Stephen and Anthony were telling him. "It was like I didn't need to, like I've been flying forever and getting the broom to do what I wanted was as simple as knowing where I wanted to go."
The three boy stayed at the cove, flying around and horsing about, until the sun had begun a downward path in the sky and they were all so hungry that they knew that they'd have to return to the castle for dinner soon or risk starving to death. When they made their way back to the forest's edge bordering the castle grounds, they stashed their brooms and took off up the sloped hillside for the back side of the castle.
"I knew there had to be a way," Stephen said and darted between two pillars bracing an open archway in the solid stone of the castle.
The steps beneath their feet were cracked and covered in moss, as they followed a tight path between the towering stone walls. After what felt like a minute of climbing, they ascended to a rusted grate that was blocking off a grassy courtyard, which looked to have not been tended to in years.
"Alohomora!" Stephen said and jabbed his wand at the lock.
There was an abrasive noise from the lock and then a click that sounded more like metal breaking than a lock unlocking. Stephen jumped back, upon the grate falling off set on its hinges.
"Owe," Anthony winced and shove Stephen back forward and off his foot. "Watch it."
With careful, slow movements, Stephen pushed the grate inward.
"Look at that!" Cole said pointing to an old fountain that had water in its base but was no longer running. The fountain itself, as in the fact that there was a fountain, wasn't all that interesting, but rather the statues that made up the upper part of the fountain had caught Cole's interests.
"Huh," Stephen said, cocking his head at the statues. "Weird."
Anthony laughed. "Ten galleons a student transfigured it."
Cole had to agree with Anthony. Hogwarts had some strange statues and portraits, but he just couldn't see how this particular set of statues fit in. A stag, a wolf, a dog, and a rat – the animals' poses aside – made for an interesting combination to say the least.
"I like it," Cole said decisively, his eyes taking in the proud way the stag stood at attention, as if he were watching over the wolf, dog, and rat with him and keeping a vigilant eye out for threats to their odd group. The rat was perched on the stag's antlers grinning down at the dog, who was rolling on his back with a carefree, silly sort of smile on his face, which he directed at the wolf that sat before the stag with his head tilted up towards the sky and his mouth formed into a howl, as if he were howling at the moon.
"There's an inscription," Stephen said and advanced on the fountain. He bent down at the base of the fountain and pulled at the ivy vines that had crept their way over the fountain's edge and up to wrap around the statues. "The Marauders, 1971 – 1978. We solemnly swear that we're up to no good."
"That's not all." Cole joined Stephen at the fountain and pulled the ivy away from where the basin of the fountain raised out of the water to support the statue. "Names: Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."
"Come look at this!"
Cole and Stephen stood and looked around the statue to see Anthony waving them over from an open archway of a partially enclosed portico.
"We hit a gold mine." Anthony stepped around the archway into the portico, clearly expecting Cole and Stephen to follow.
Cole hurried after Anthony with Stephen hot on his heels. Upon skidding around the portico's entrance, he crossed the short distance over to the corner, where Anthony had an old and battered trunk propped open and was admiring a bottle of amber liquid.
"Is that ...?" Stephen took the amber liquid from Anthony.
"Yep," Anthony said, smirking. "Look at the date."
"Ogden's Olde Firewhiskey, June 1978," Cole read over Stephen's shoulder.
"There's an entire stash here too," Anthony said, gesturing to the open trunk. "Firewhiskey, mead, butterbeer, a whole thing of dung bombs, and a crate of Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. It's like these Marauders stocked this right before they finished their NEWTs, just hoping someone else would find it."
"They probably did." Stephen shrugged and grabbed one of the dung bombs. A sly grin spread across his face. "I wonder what Snape's reaction would be to finding his store cupboard filled with these."
"Everyone should be at dinner right now." Anthony removed the lid to the wet-start fireworks' crate and picked up one. He weighed it in his hand, before looking up to Stephen and Cole conspiringly. "A few of these for good measure, yeah?"
"Not now," Cole said, before Stephen or Anthony could get ahead of themselves. "Tonight," he said at the glowers he received from his two friends. "That way he can't connect our absence from dinner to his store cupboard being defiled. We'll wait for Kevin, Terry, and Michael to go to sleep."
"How did we ever get on without you, Trafalgar?" Stephen asked with evident approval.
"All right, start stuffing your pockets you lot," Anthony said, holding out wet-start fireworks and dung bombs for Cole and Stephen to take.
Once all three boys had their pockets stuff to the max, they headed up the portico, rightly guessing that it led to somewhere. At the end of the portico there were more stairs for them to climb and they eventually came out in a well lit hallway that was line with paintings of food. A particularly large painting of a bowl of fruit earned curious looks from all of them as they passed it, having learned over the week that most of the large canvas paints in the castle were hidden passageways. They climbed an additional set of stairs at the end of the hall and moments later stepped out from around an alcove in the Entrance Hall. The Great Hall doors were open and the rumbling of many voice speaking at once told them that they hadn't missed dinner entirely. All too happily, they waltzed into the Great Hall and over to the Ravenclaw Table.
"Hey, Cornfoot," Weston called to them, looking peeved.
"What?" Stephen asked, scowling at the dark haired, short statured, fifth year prefect.
"Where have you been all day?" Weston demanded.
"Exploring," Stephen replied curtly.
Weston narrowed his eyes. "Professor Cornfoot has been looking for you. He told me to tell you to report to his office immediately."
Stephen glanced up to the staff table, as did Cole and Anthony. Professor Cornfoot's accustom chair was empty. Stephen sighed.
"See you later, mate," Anthony said sympathetically.
"Stephen," Cole stopped Stephen, as the boy made to leave the hall with a troubled look marring his face. There was no use in pretending that the three of them didn't know what Professor Cornfoot wanted to talk to Stephen about. "It's fine."
"It's not," Stephen said resolutely and left the Great Hall.
"Come on." Anthony pulled Cole towards a empty space of bench a little ways up the table. "I'm starved!"
Stephen didn't end up returning to Ravenclaw Tower until five minutes before curfew. Cole and Anthony had their heads bent over a large tome in the far corner of the common room, reading up on locking charms and their counter-spells, and didn't notice him until he plopped down on the empty armchair at Anthony's right.
"What's that?" Stephen asked wearily.
"Protection Charms, Keeping Your Valuables Secure. We checked it out from the library," Anthony said, looking up from the tome to survey his friend. "Cole thought it might be helpful to know a stronger unlocking spell, incase Snape uses something advanced."
"I think we could manage a few of these," Cole said, his eyes still following the black ink scrawled across the page before him. "A lot of this, though, is way too advanced. We don't start Runes or Arithmancy until third year, right?"
"Unfortunately." Stephen leaned forward out of his chair to look at the tome as well. "There's always self-study if we really need it, I suppose."
"I think we've a bit much on our plate right now," Anthony cut in. "If all goes well, you and Cole will make the Quidditch team on Wednesday and my dad will respond to the letter I sent about the ancient bloodlines by the end of the week. Plus, we're nowhere close to knowing this place inside and out yet."
As the common room began to empty out for the night, Cole, Anthony, and Stephen continued to read up on unlocking spells and pointedly avoiding discussing how Stephen's evening with his dad had gone. When it seemed that the last few people in the common room would be headed up to their dorms soon, the three boys headed up to bed, faking yawns and expressing how tired they were. Up in their dorm, they made a production of changing into their pajamas and telling Kevin, Terry, and Michael goodnight.
Upon settling in his bed behind his closed hanging, however, Cole realized just how tired he was. Lying in the dark, he listened to Kevin get ready for bed and Terry and Michael finish up their game of chess. It was a struggle for him to stay awake with his eyelids feeling heavier and heavier by the second. Fight as he might, his breathing evened out and his eyes slid closed, once Terry and Michael began getting ready for bed as well.
"Cole," a voice whispered in his ear, as a hand shook his shoulder.
Cole groaned and attempted to pull away from the hand.
"Cole, come on. Snape's store cupboard isn't going to fill itself with dung bombs."
Cole sat up and rubbed at his sleepy eyes, remembering that he wasn't supposed to be sleeping at all. "I'm up. I'm up," he mumbled and swatted Stephen's hand off his shoulder.
It was under a minute later that all three boys were dressed and Stephen had their contraband packed in his book bag, which he promptly slung over his shoulder. Much like they had in the morning, they snuck down to the common room, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and dashed for the exit. As they descend from Ravenclaw Tower down to the dungeons, none of them spoke a word. They walked as silently as they could and listened for the tell-tale noise that would indicate movement outside of their own. It was as they were working their way down the moving staircases that they heard a door slam followed by heavy breathing and hurried footsteps.
"Bloody hell!"
"Down," Cole mouthed to Stephen and Anthony. All three tried to hide themselves the best they could with nowhere to really hide, trapped on the stairs as they were.
"Painful death sure is right!"
"Three heads! Three fuckin' heads!"
"All the better for ripping us apart!"
"Go," Stephen said in a low hiss and shoved Cole towards the base of the stairs that they were on, as it connected with the east end of the fourth floor corridor.
As quickly as they could, all three Ravenclaw boys got off the stairs and hid themselves in the shadows of the archway leading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor. They watched with bated breath and pounding hearts, as the footsteps got closer. Cole pushed back further into the shadows upon four dark figures crossing right in front of where he, Stephen, and Anthony were hiding and heading up the stairs they had been on just moments ago. Cole, Stephen, and Anthony waited for the sounds of footsteps to disappear entirely before they emerged from the shadows and began heading down the stairs once more.
"Longbottom and his cohorts," Anthony whispered.
"I think so," Stephen said.
"We really need to find a better way to get down to the Great Hall," Cole insisted. He didn't like how exposed they were on the moving staircases, not one bit.
"Agreed," Stephen and Anthony said together.
It was five minutes later that Cole, Stephen, and Anthony stood outside of the entrance to Snape's personal store cupboard.
"Alohomora!" Cole said, jabbing his wand at the lock. Nothing happened. He frowned and turned to Anthony.
"Try this," Anthony said, pointing his lit wand at the list of unlocking spells that they had made earlier and tilted the parchment so Cole could read it.
"Portaberto!" Cole tapped the lock with his wand.
There was a snap and hiss from the lock.
Cole pushed against the door with his wand. He smiled with satisfaction upon the door giving way and swinging inward. "All right," he said. "Let's work quick. There's no telling who heard that or if Snape has some way of knowing that we've broken in."
"I've got an idea for the fireworks," Anthony said, moving into the store cupboard around Cole, "if you guys want to do the dung bombs."
"All yours, mate." Stephen passed Anthony a handful of wet-start fireworks before digging back into his book bag and passing Cole a handful of dung bombs.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Cole heard Anthony say and saw the blond boy level his wand at the fireworks in his hand out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you know how to set these off?" Stephen asked.
Cole shook his head, while watching one of the fireworks in Anthony's hand rise of its own accord.
"It's this tab here –"
BOOM!
Cole's ears rang with the explosion, as smoke and unknown particles choked him. Somehow he had ended up on the floor. He grope blindly for his wand, his movements slow and sluggish and his hands sliding across cold stone coating in stick substances and sharp fragments. His hand came in contact with someone to his left and he thought he heard him name, but couldn't be certain. He felt his wand press into his hand, as a hand grabbed his shoulder. He groaned in pain, as he got his legs under him. In a mess of limbs, he and who he suspected was Stephen managed to stand, leaning heavily on one another.
Not knowing which way would get them out of the store cupboard and to fresh air, Cole pulled Stephen forward. He couldn't hear it, but felt glass and whatever else was on the floor crush under his tread. There was a moment of confusion where his next step brought him in contact with something far more substantial before he wound up sprawled on the floor without understanding of how he'd gotten there for a second time that night. Whatever he and Stephen had tripped on moved.
"Anthony!" Cole found himself yelling out, despite knowing how useless calling out names was at the moment. He scrambled to check on the blond boy, feeling Stephen doing the same beside him. He jerked his hand back with a start upon coming in contact with a hot, sticky, yet wet substance covering Anthony's chest. Blood, was the single thought that ran through his mind. He didn't question how he knew, he just knew. He nudged Stephen and brought the boys hand down where he had felt the blood. With frantic, unsteady motion, they worked together to haul Anthony up between them.
As they now knew which direction would bring them deeper into the cupboard and which way led to the exit, the two boys made for the exit with all haste.
His first gulp of clean air mad Cole realize just how badly his lungs were burning, as well as how badly he'd been coughing and choking back in the store cupboard. Light flooded his eyes and brought a second source of sensory information to him, as he and Stephen turned to make their way to the Hospital Wing. At first, he thought Stephen had lit his wand and was about to do the same with his wand somehow still clutched in his hand. His dazed mind managed to catch up with the reality of the events unfolding, as the light grew bigger and he recognized that it was rushing towards him, Stephen, and Anthony.
Relief mixed with dread washed through Cole, as Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Snape descending upon them. He tried, truly did try, to focus on the way the professor's mouths moved, tried to understand what was being said to him, but his ears kept ringing and he felt more and more light headed. The only thing he truly registered was Snape's red faced fury. The man was yelling and giving every indication that he would enjoy nothing more than to finish Cole, Stephen, and Anthony off.
It was a shock to Cole when he found himself being coaxed by Professor Sprout to sit on one of the beds in the Hospital Wing. He couldn't remember climbing the marble staircase or even how he'd gotten out of the dungeons. As his vision swam dizzily and he felt that he was going to throw up for sure, he decided that he didn't care how he got to the Hospital Wing. Anthony, Stephen, were his only two thoughts before everything became a haze once more and he forgot who he was, who Stephen and Anthony were, and why he shouldn't laugh at the red faced, grease haired bat storming into the Hospital Wing with a sallow faced, dark haired man in tow.