Chapter Eight – Part 2: Trial and Flight

Warning: No offense meant towards librarians.


Her first reaction was to suppress a scream.

The oversized dungeon was famous, having served as the chamber used to convict Death Eaters during the First Wizarding War. This was the place where the Lestranges were sentenced to life in Azkaban, along with some of the most dangerous dark wizards of her time. It seemed a little too much, having her trialed here; she was mostly innocent, after all.

At least fifty people were seated at the bench above, all staring down their noses at her, some with very austere expressions, and others grim. Maria remembered seeing some of these witches and wizards around Level Two. Most had been busy for the past week, - and barely acknowledged her existence in the halls - but she was certain that the members of the Wizengamot were always vigilant. The dark stone around them was dimly lit by torches, revealing many faces in the lower benches. They were whispering, but, when the heavy door closed behind Maria, a terrible silence fell upon the Courtroom.

Please let this be over fast, thought Maria numbly. She thought about Bagman's sorry state, and remembered her father's pleas for her to keep her head low until this blew off. At the time, the advice seemed exaggerated but Maria did her best to comply and be discreet. Thinking back, perhaps that had saved her from sharing the manager's fate.

She swallowed hard, looking straight ahead, and tried to force away the image of her own mutilated corpse, hanging limply from the top of the stairs.

'Go on Miss Cooper, you're already running late as it is,' hissed the witch at her side, ushering her inside with a poke of her clipboard.

'I'm sorry,' mumbled Maria. She eyed the small chair in the center of the room: chains covered the arms, unmoving on hard wood and it didn't take long before a terrible image of polished metal, tight against the bare skin beneath her sleeves, popped into mind. 'I didn't know the hearing had been rescheduled -'

'An owl was dispatched today with the details. Please take a seat.'

Maria gritted her teeth, wondering what would happen if she remarked upon this woman's lack of manners.

The other witch slithered through the crowd expertly and Maria took a step forward, heels clicking and echoing as she got closer to the center of the chamber. She sat with utmost care on the edge of the chair. The chains rattled, but didn't glide around her wrists, leaving her mostly movement-free.

Glancing around from this angle, Maria was able to make out a few of the shapes in the lower benches: long fingers grasped the rails, and she stared into the dark, slanted eyes of a goblin who glared in her direction, leaning into the light. She turned her head in a slow motion, concealing another whimper. Her heart was beating fast, and she forced herself to look up at the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot and forget everything else.

Some of these goblins were in Flourish & Blotts the day of the attack, she was sure of it.

For a second, Maria found herself fumbling through her pocket. It was empty, save for a few loose threads, and her heart clenched for reasons she didn't dare speak out loud.

'We will start this hearing -'

Right in the center of the front row was the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall, broad shouldered fellow she had seen talking to Derwent almost daily. Shacklebolt always had a kind smile for her, but today it had been replaced with a much less pleasant expression. On his left sat Derwent, tapping a bony finger on the rails. On Shacklebolt's right was a witch she didn't recognize, possibly the Undersecretary.

'The Ministry offers its apology for such a short notice reschedule,' Shacklebolt's deep voice boomed in the silence. If it wasn't for her nerves, Maria would've smirked, noticing the witch with the clipboard a few seats away, bowing her head. 'Is the Wizengamot ready to proceed?'

'Yes, Minister,' she heard Derwent's voice above the others.

'Preliminary Hearing, September thirteen,' continued Shacklebolt, 'into offenses committed by one Maria Elizabeth Cooper, on the eve of August thirteen, in league with the accused: Ludovic Bagman, Horace Slughorn and Edwin Cuthbert, now deceased.'

She heard the quick scratching of a quill.

'Inquisitors: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, Ignatius Derwent, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…' the list of names went on, but Maria was too mesmerized by the shinning piercing on the Minister's ear to remember any of them.

'The charges against the accused are as follows: that she deliberately and knowingly of the illegality of her actions, allegedly helped the accused hide and sell goblin property to the wizarding community, which consists in a direct violation of Paragraph…'

Maria blinked twice. Not only was this falsehood, but the charges were ludicrous. Of this she was completely innocent!

'Are you Maria Elizabeth Cooper?' asked Shacklebolt, looking at her over the top of his parchment.

'Yes, sir,' she answered.

'Do you deny committing these crimes?

'Yes.'

'Do you also deny being in league with the remaining accused, and partaking in the offense committed to the aforementioned goblin community?'

'I deny everything,' she answered as firmly as she could muster, gripping the edge of the chair with both hands.

The members of the Wizengamot were uttering; a few were staring at her with frank curiosity while the others shook their heads. Maria heard more whispering around her, some louder than others, and from the corner of her eye, she saw a group of menacing goblins glaring.

'She lies!' shouted one of the goblins, pointing a long finger at her head. 'The librarian is guilty!'

Maria gaped, looking completely insulted. 'How dare you, I'm an administrative assistant, not a librarian!'

The whispering intensified. Maria felt trapped in the lone center, glancing left and right at the shadows, but all she could see were figures stirring in the dark unless they leaned forward. For the split of a second, she thought she saw the pale, anxious face of her father stepping into the light, but was distracted by the rising noise of stumps and threats.

'The Ministry has gathered evidence,' continued Shacklebolt, and the finality and command in his voice was enough to submit the tumultuous crowd into a gradual silence. 'That Maria Elizabeth Cooper was in Flourish & Blotts during the night of August thirteen, and signed for the delivery of stolen goblin property. Do you deny this, Miss Cooper?

'No, but -'

'Do you also deny having been personally responsible to safeguard these items, knowing you had been partaking in illegal activities?'

Maria paused, hands now curling into fists on her lap.

'I deny the accusations,' she raised her chin, and looked at the Minister for Magic directly; her cheeks were no longer so red, nor was her nose so swollen from crying, as fear had been replaced by anger over the injustice. 'The manager asked me to wait for Professor Slughorn in the shop that night, but no one mentioned the books had been stolen from goblins.'

Derwent leaned forward. 'Horace Slughorn delivered the books to you in person?'

Maria stared at the old wizard, bemused. As if he didn't know this, they had spoken not two hours ago.

'Yes,' she blinked. 'H-he passed by the shop shortly after dinner -'

'And you had no idea the books were stolen goblin property?' he pressed.

'Of course not, I was just a lowly employee, what else could I do but oblige?' the whispering began once more. 'Cuthbert asked me to stay after hours, he was my employer at the time, and thus I was under moral obligation to comply.'

Derwent gave her a patronizing look. 'Ironic that you ought to mention morals and ethic, Miss Cooper.'

Maria seethed.

Another witch from the Wizengamot, this one from the higher rows, addressed her:

'You work in the Ministry as of present, do you not?' this witch had a high pitched voice, bound to give Maria a headache soon. 'Pray tell, what urged you to make this decision? It has come to our attention that your sudden change of jobs was most fortuitous; were you running from something, Miss Cooper? Perhaps a goblin attack?'

Maria almost choked at this.

'I-I never meant to stay forever. When this job came up I…' she glanced at the half-hidden crowd, and then at the fifty witches and wizards staring down on her. 'I decided it was a better prospect. Do something I might actually like, a chance at an enhanced future.'

'A better ambition than remaining a bookshop clerk, is that what you mean, Miss Cooper?' Derwent asked.

'Well, yes -'

'You are truly a woman of ambition,' the old man snorted and, in the quiet humiliation that followed, Maria felt her face flush. 'That is to say, that you bear no ill will towards the goblin community, or their counterparts in Gringotts, when all your six applications for a position as a Curse Breaker were rejected?'

'That was two years ago,' she said in a clipped voice. Her ears were burning, and anger rose like bile in her throat, but Maria only clutched the arms of her chair tighter. 'I'm perfectly content where I am.'

Derwent raised his eyebrows. 'Were you, one month ago, when Horace Slughorn and Edwin Cuthbert made you a deal you could not refuse?'

Maria opened her mouth, angry beyond words, staring at the victorious face of Ignatius Derwent while all around her whispers had turned into loud conversations from the wizards and cries of outrage from the goblins.

'Enough!' shouted Shacklebolt, banging down a gavel over the commotion. Maria glanced at the goblins and immediately recoiled in her seat; three were being held down by Aurors, one of them none other than Proudfoot himself, and the rest shouted obscenities at her, trying to pass the rails.

Her eyes fell on one goblin: he was familiar, too much so, his long fingers holding the rails loosely and he stared at her – or through her, she wasn't sure – with pure hatred. His small, black eyes were a pit of anger, glaring daggers in her direction.

'Order,' boomed the Minister, banging down his gavel again. Maria broke free from the goblin's stare, and quickly turned her head. 'Miss Cooper,' he began, 'there is little evidence that sustains your deliberate involvement in this case, but the fact remains that you signed these documents.'

'Because I was asked to!' she cried. 'If I said no, then I could've been sacked on the spot!'

There was a pause. Maria could see the sympathy in the Minister's eyes. She reasoned that this ordeal was mostly a way to appease the angry goblin crowd; no one in their minds would believe such a ridiculous story.

However, she had no witnesses. The only one who could testify in her favor had been put to the ground, and she doubted Slughorn was able to save her from conviction. What was she to do? Her fate rested on the hands of fifty men and women who didn't know her and would forever have a low opinion of her skills.

Maria was livid; she blamed Derwent for this situation. What was he thinking?

As if to further vex her, the old man leaned towards Shacklebolt so that both wizards spoke quietly, their voices impossible to make out from where Maria was standing. The Courtroom was oddly tense, straining under a deafening silence. It seemed that the Aurors had managed to calm the goblins with some success, since they were no longer thrashing and bad-mouthing her lot. However, the weight of their combined glares was such that Maria recoiled a little further in her chair.

Eying the left side of the crowd, she caught a glimpse of her father's dark robes. For a fleeting moment, she thought he seemed paler than before and tense beyond measure, an erect figure clad in black amidst the crowd.

'Miss Cooper,' Shacklebolt called, calling Maria break from her daze. Derwent was following the exchange with rapt attention. 'The Wizengamot requests a test to be conducted on your wand. Do you agree?'

Maria nodded at once, fearing any unwillingness on her part could be interpreted as a sign of guilt. She proceeded to withdraw her wand from inside her robes, her hands trembling as a somber Ministry worker – most likely an Unspeakable, she figured – took it for inspection.

'Careful with it,' asked Maria, considering this tall, frigid wizard with a frown. Her words were met with a tired glower, and the short minutes after seemed to drag as she watched lean fingers trace polished cedar wood lovingly from end-to-end. She almost smiled when the wizard finished his ministrations and shook his head at the judge's balcony.

'The wood and core do not match, honorable Council,' he reported, bowing so low that the tip of his nose almost touched the ground. 'This is most certainly not the wand.'

Again, the members of the Wizengamot and crowd alike were muttering. Some looked annoyed, others disbelieving. Maria let out a sigh of relief at being exonerated; even she was unaware of what it was from. She would pose questions later, demand answers from Derwent, but for now Maria found she could stand a little straighter, boasting higher levels of assurance.

She took her wand from the Ministry worker and tucked it safely inside her robes, tapping her heel impatiently on the floor as she looked up.

'Miss Cooper,' Shacklebolt addressed her again. 'Does the Wizengamot have your word that you remained unaware of these book's authentic origins?'

Maria nodded strongly. She could hear the goblin's complaints and rough words. From the corner of her eye, she saw Proudfoot's back turned to her and his wand half-raised.

Shacklebolt exchanged a look with Derwent. 'The Wizengamot will discuss this matter further. Should your testimony prove consequential, the Council may be prepared to order your immediate acquittal from the primary stages of this case, and it shall bear no consequence on the matter of your work as a Ministry employee or otherwise –'

All of a sudden, Maria jumped at the guttural roar coming from the goblin side, clutching the handle of her wand in a strong grip. The courtroom was a mess; she stared, wide eyed and horrified, at the face of one of the goblins twisted into an ugly scowl. In his fury, the goblin had tried to climb the rails, but two Aurors caught him in mid leap and kept his body in a secure grip.

Maria gulped, tensing at the murderous expression in the goblin's eyes.

'To blazes with wand-carriers!' shouted the goblin. Maria noted his rising colour as he was further pressed down on a board-like position, and his wrath was such that she feared his eyes would pop out of their sockets. Behind him, a dozen other goblins raised their fists and screamed horrible words in a strangled language Maria recognized as Gobbledegook.

'The session is adjourned, please clear the Courtroom,' Shacklebolt banged down his gavel one last time and, with a quick glance at Proudfoot, the latter gestured for a few of the Aurors to usher the non-goblin crowd out of the chamber.

Maria sprung to her feet, unsure whether she should be among the ones leaving, or if something else would be required of her, when she was still struggling with feelings of shock and relief. Nobody seemed to be paying her the slightest bit of attention except Derwent, and she was unconvinced that he, of all people, would be so kind as to give her directions.

'Maria?' she stiffened, feeling her father's large hand on her shoulder.

'Can we leave now?' she pleaded, clutching his arm for dear life as more goblins tried to climb the rails. The Aurors were having a hard time containing the furious creatures without resorting to defensive spells. 'Please.'

'Of course, let's go,' her father put an arm around her shoulders and together they turned towards the exit with haste.

As they neared the great doors, Maria risked a glance behind her shoulder: she saw the same goblin as before glaring in her direction with his slanting black eyes, a lone, quiet figure among the rest of his kin. The sight of this goblin filled Maria with dread, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong soon.

Outside the chamber, the crowd was dispersing to the higher floors, which left only a handful of people and a few Aurors around. Maria still clutched her wand, eyeing the surroundings suspiciously.

'Stay here, I'll be back shortly,' her father said once they were outside, turning back towards the Courtroom.

'Wait, where are you going? Why are you going back there?' she spluttered, grabbing one of his sleeves.

Her father's brows were furrowed and he seemed to be considering something. He then looked beyond Maria's shoulder, jaw clenched, before gently disentangling her fingers from his robes. 'You'll be safe here, Maria,' he said, sotto voce. 'There are plenty of Aurors guarding the area, and I promise that soon we'll be leaving the Ministry.'

Maria gave a weak huff, mind swirling with things to say and questions of her own to ask.

'Go on, then,' she finally acquiesced, one hand fiddling with her pockets, the other now less tight around her wand. 'And don't take long, mind you; I'd like to go home before my skin gets wrinkled.'

Much to Maria's disappointment, her father nodded absently before pressing a kiss on her forehead, and then broke into a very fast walk to the Courtroom. The great doors closed behind him, leaving Maria apprehensive, wondering about what to do in the meantime.

She swore louder than intended, startling a nearby Auror, who sent a disapproving glare in her direction. Swirling round, she almost collided with a lean, delicate figure dressed in elegant silver robes, and looked into the bothered face of Daphne Greengrass.

'Y- you -!' Maria hissed, snarling at the sight of a small leather pouch resting against her friend's waist. She poked Daphne's shoulder angrily, paying no mind to her bewildered frown. 'You were supposed to be here an hour ago!'

'Well, I'm sorry, but I had a rough time getting into the lower levels without an army of Aurors trying to bar my entrance,' Daphne said haughtily. 'That Dawlish fellow almost hexed me. Twice! Had to rely on Potter's interference to convince the snot we've been friends since Hogwarts.'

Maria sniffed, retracting slightly from Daphne's personal space. 'Golden Boy Potter vouched for you?' she ignored the same Auror from before, who was now shaking his head at their bad-mouthing. 'My, that's a first.'

'Indeed,' Daphne drawled. 'Let's sit over there, shall we?'

Maria gave a perhaps too firm a nod. Both witches crossed the dimly lit hallway and sat on the same bench she had been crying before the hearing, making sure they were away from hearing range, half-hidden in the shadows. Once they were settled, Maria let out a great breath and leaned back against the stone wall, looking up at the ceiling.

'They changed the time of the hearing,' she said after a short silence. 'But you probably knew this, anyway.'

Daphne nodded, mirroring her position.

'How did it go? The trial, I mean' she added, when Maria threw her an exasperated glance. 'You were there at least half an hour.'

'Sod off, you old hag,' said Maria, snarling at the short laugh coming from Daphne.

'That bad, I see.'

'T'is not funny,' she pinched her nose in frustration. 'So help me, I never want to go through this again!'

Daphne shrugged. 'At least rejoice that it's over, for now. I heard some very disturbing things in the Atrium, concerning goblins…' she lowered her voice to a whisper, eying the long hallways with distrust. 'Some bloke from the Prophet confided in me that a small group was allowed to watch the trials, as to identify the mysterious witch or wizard to whom Bagman is said to have given the four books -'

Maria snapped from her reverie instantly. 'What do you mean? Who exactly told you that?'

'A reporter, though I've quite forgotten his name,' said Daphne, mildly surprised. 'The Ministry doesn't want this to come to public, but I'm amazed your father didn't tell you about it. Word is, out of four, the goblins managed to sneak back two books during the raid at Flourish & Blotts, and the Ministry later managed to confiscate the remaining from their slimy grasp. The Goblin Liaison Department was heavily involved.'

'So that may be why they asked for my wand…' Maria absently played with a curl from Daphne's hair. She had learned it wouldn't do to pry on Daphne's ploys if they proved beneficial to her cause, but now an ominous thought was starting to take shape in her mind. She bit her lip, glancing at the great doors. 'Daphne, do you know what happened to the other two books?'

'Only that one went missing about two weeks ago. Why?' Daphne leaned forward until her head almost touched Maria's. 'What sort of foul play do you suspect?'

Maria's brow furrowed. 'I'm not sure, but I think there's more to this than simple theft. What're you willing to bet that these fiends are members of the Brotherhood of Goblins? '

'The little gits!' hissed Daphne, suddenly turning stiff. 'That would make sense, but the implications are… bothersome, to say the least. Though it would explain why the Ministry's trying to do everything within their reach to appease them. Remember the Chipping Clodbury riot?'

Maria nodded darkly. 'They're beyond mad, Daphne,' she whispered. 'You didn't see them inside the Courtroom, some were borderline violent -'

Both witches turned their head towards the great doors wrenching open. They shared a concerned look, as Derwent, still wearing his formal robes, and Maria's father came into the hallway, deep in argument. Maria was taken by complete surprise; her father didn't seem to notice her, and neither did Derwent, who dismissed the two Aurors near the entrance with an annoyed wave. She remained sitting next to Daphne, the two of them observing as the wizards got closer, slowly coming within their hearing range.

'…don't understand what's written…'

'Bloody goblins!'

Maria stared wide-eyed at her father's snarl, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Daphne sat very still, listening with rapt attention.

'We should keep it longer still,' insisted Derwent, looking every bit as an oversized vulture as he hunched forward. 'Shacklebolt will see reason; we're on the brink of discovery!'

'I will not endanger my own daughter over a book!' her father hissed angrily. Maria felt her blood curl at these words.

'The girl's in no danger, Cooper! I'll set Proudfoot in charge of her safety until this matter is dealt with if it eases your mind, but will you too see reason!' Derwent grabbed her father's arm in a firm grip, raising his chin defiantly. 'Every Unspeakable on the case reported that these books could be the key to explain the origin of magic as we know it, even the universe!'

Her father almost shoved the old man backwards in a fit of fury, wrenching free from his grasp. 'You're far too old to believe such nonsense,' he spat, vicious and fierce. 'The world has simply not been remade, that is idle gibberish and I will not be ensnared by the words of wizards whose wits have been addled by -'

'Elves that were once tall and magnificent, a song to create the material universe -'

'- there is no Music of Ainur. T'is but a romantic notion from olden times, and even if a fraction of that translation was proved true, I'd never risk my daughter's safety!'

The two wizards faced each other, both sporting magnificent scowls in a show of dominance that rendered Maria fearful of the outcome. She almost gasped in fright when Daphne's fingers interlaced with her own in a reassuring grasp.

'Is that your final word?' snapped Derwent.

Her father glared. Maria knew from experience that there wasn't much Derwent could do to change his mind once he was set in his ways, jaw and shoulders squared and nostrils flaring as if he was prepared to expel fire.

'Yes,' he growled, and the silence that followed between the two wizards was heavy with mutual dislike.

'Er,' said Maria to announce her presence. Daphne, on the other hand, made no mention to help.

Derwent looked around at her, an ugly flush suffusing his pale, wrinkled face, but before he could properly reproach her for eavesdropping, the great doors opened again: in a kind of terrifying procession, the goblins marched out of the Council chamber, flanked from every side by at least two Aurors. Proudfoot stood at the front, only slightly less disgruntled than his peers – and the goblins themselves.

'It's time,' he said gravelly to Derwent, glancing at where Maria and Daphne sat, transfixed.

Derwent gave a sharp nod. He did not seem at all pleased. 'Very well. Cooper?'

Maria's father blinked, mimicking Derwent's nod. 'Yes, yes, of course,' he then turned to Maria and crossed the hallway until he stood in front of the two witches, ignoring Daphne. 'Fifteen minutes, and then we're off.'

'Alright,' she risked a glance at the goblins, shuddering at their black, slanted eyes glaring in her direction. 'Will you be safe?'

Her father smiled. 'Yes, my dear,' he rubbed her shoulder in a soothing gesture. 'Wait in my office, Miss Granger will be expecting you. We won't be long.'

Maria gulped, watching the strange parade cross the hallways, until goblins and wizards alike disappeared around the corner. They were alone, save for two Aurors roaming the premises, likely waiting for the members of the Wizengamot or the Minister himself. It struck her that Daphne had been silent for a while – in fact, speechless would be a better word. Even Maria was having some difficulty in wrapping up what she'd heard.

Nostrils flaring, Maria tapped her foot. A dark look crossed her features, and she half-turned her head, addressing Daphne without hesitation.

'What was that about?' she snapped.

'No idea,' said Daphne in a small voice, marching over to Maria. 'But something tells me a few people will be in an awful lot of trouble, soon. If Derwent was telling the truth, then the wizards should have these books, not the goblins. It's almost offensive.'

Maria groaned.

'To blazes with this Music of Ainur nonsense,' Maria mimicked Derwent's awed tone. Both witches marched towards the stairs. 'The world being remade,' she scoffed. 'What does he mean, the Unspeakables translated the book?' she lowered her voice, eyes narrowed. 'At least one of the bloody things was written in Archaic English, not in some ruddy grammatical puzzle!'

Daphne gave her hand a light squeeze. 'Apparently you saw wrong.'

'I most certainly did not,' huffed Maria. 'But that parchment wasn't written in any sensible language.'

'A pity that your father burned it,' Daphne whispered, and her eyes seemed to gleam in the gloom. 'Though that was a very interesting conversation. Very interesting indeed. I wonder if the Unspeakables could've translated it.'

They walked in silence until Maria sighed, climbing the stairs in a lazy pace.

'Let's just go. I'm sure Granger will be delighted to see both of us,' she drawled, and yet again her hand was inside her pocket. 'Maybe she's also conspiring to sacrifice me to the goblins, wouldn't surprise me-'

She stopped on her tracks. For the second time that day, Maria suppressed a scream.

She watched a foot on a black boot trembling on the floor. Upon a closer look, before them sprawled on a pool of his own blood was Dawlish. Daphne was the first to recover from the shock and was upon him faster than Maria, who was standing motionless on top of the stairs, openmouthed and staring. She gasped as the Auror coughed, trying to make sense of something.

'Help me!' snapped Daphne, gesturing for Maria.

Her jaw no longer dropped, Maria kneeled behind Dawlish's head, avoiding the blood on the floor. She then bent over him, cringing at the deep gashes on his stomach and legs, where the blood was wettest and darkest. There was no one around except the three of them. However, if she ignored Daphne's mumbling and Dawlish's heavy breathing, Maria believed she heard a bang coming from behind.

'Did you hear that?'

'What -'

'They have wands -' Dawlish croaked, his eyes unfocused and staring at the ceiling. The grayish white of his face stood out against the black floor. 'Goblins -'

Maria's heart stopped. Before she could say something, Daphne sent a small flask her way; it was filled with a brown liquid that she recognized as Essence of Dittany, and quickly began applying it to the shallower cuts.

'How did the goblins get their slimy paws on wands?' cried Maria. Her eyes fastened upon the more serious wounds Daphne expertly tended, hands shaking at the sight of blood drenching the whole of the Auror's left side. Greenish smoke billowed upwards where the dittany touched the skin, and when it had cleared Maria almost sighed in relief that the bleeding had stopped. Some of the wounds now looked several days old, though a few were quick to turn into an angry red.

Daphne's lips were pressed into a thin line. 'That means we were right; that was the Brotherhood of Goblins -'

'Is he bleeding on the inside?' Maria gasped, eyes widening at the new stretched skin bursting open, oozing freely again. 'The wounds are too deep!'

'This man needs to be taken to St. Mungo's immediately,' Daphne pressed a cloth soaked in a slimy substance on his abdomen, in a hopeless attempt to stop the blood. Her purse lay on the floor, half-open next to her soaked silver robes, turned red from the hem to the waist. 'Stay here with him; I'll go call someone -'

'Did you hear something? Anything?' Maria asked in stupid desperation, and her eyes drifted from Dawlish's stirring figure to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway. Bloody footprints stained the floor, coming from ahead. 'Where are the others? Where is my father?'

Daphne, who seemed to have sensed her intentions, gave her a warning glare. 'Stay here! We'll figure that out later, but, please, Maria,' she rose to her feet. 'Wait!' With one last frown at the door, she ran down the stairs.

Dismissing her friend's advice, Maria turned her attention to Dawlish as soon as Daphne vanished, and squeezed his injured shoulder. The Auror cried out in pain, but his widening eyes found Maria's when she seized the front of his robes.

'Where did they go?' she hissed, teeth clenched as she stared down at the Auror. 'Tell me!'

A feeble, rasping noise issued from Dawlish's throat.

'Veil…goblins…'

'The Death Chamber?' breathed Maria, and her own eyes widened as she gazed again upon the door. This chamber was one of the best kept secrets in the Ministry, which meant everyone had at least heard rumors about its existence. 'Are you sure? Is my father there too?'

Dawlish nodded, and though the movement was almost imperceptible, he managed to get a loose grip on Maria's robes before she rose. 'Stay -' he croaked, trying to pull her down. The blood on his stomach was flowing freely, leaving a large pool of blood on the floor. 'Don'tleave…me -'

'You'll be fine,' said Maria coldly, not believing her own lie. She could hear someone hurrying up the stairs, along with multiple voices.

With an abrupt gesture, she wrenched free from Dawlish's grasp and lunged for Daphne's purse, before breaking into a halt. Maybe it prove necessary, and her priority certainly wasn't one unknown Auror to whom she shared no relation.

She sprinted towards the door, half bothered that it swung open as she ran forward, and stopped inside a circular room. Everything here was black including the floor and the ceiling – identical, unmarked handle-less doors were sat at intervals all around the black walls. The only light came from candles whose flame burned blue, their shimmering glow reflected in the shinning marble floor. Maria moved her feet uncertainly; it looked as though there was dark water underfoot.

The blood had turned from red to purple under the blue candle light, but the trail continued straight ahead into another room. As she gazed down at the floor, Maria noticed another pair of footprints, reasoning that these were too small to belong to a full-grown wizard. Even if she hadn't noticed them, it would be impossible to ignore the spells – blue, red, green, she gulped – flying from wizards and goblins alike.

'Father,' she whimpered, running for cover behind the black door that had been left wide open. Maria made a disgusted face after touching the handle: it was coated in blood. Perhaps this was where Dawlish had fallen -

Maria held her breath.

There he was, fighting three goblins, two of which had acquired wands, firing spells from his wand as he backed further into the stone pit, still shouting to the few Aurors left standing. Maria could see five short bodies below, motionless against the steep stone steps – whether dead or alive, she wasn't sure. They were ironically outnumbered, or so she thought but, upon a closer peek, she saw many fallen wizards on the ground: most were still stirring, some knocked unconscious, but there was no blatant sign of blood, and Maria was unsure if the goblins could manage a full killing curse.

Still hidden, Maria saw Derwent bring down two goblins; the undersized little gits had been hacking and stabbing the old wizard's ankles, their faces alive with malice even in defeat. It brought a smirk to her face because even if Maria detested Derwent, then she had quickly grown to abhor goblins.

As Derwent swirled round, she saw a large tome bound in blue, clutched under long Wizengamot robes and bit her lip: five more goblins climbed the pit, screaming and hacking at whoever crossed them, and made their way to the old wizard. Maria gasped as the old wizard landed on the floor with a thud, but no sooner were Proudfoot and Savage upon him when three more appeared out of nowhere.

No matter how hard she tried, Maria couldn't figure out where the goblins came from, but it seemed most were concealed in the pit or coming from another door. In her hiding spot she was perhaps too out of reach to get a better view, clinging to the shadows like a thief.

Further down the pit, she saw her father in the center of the battle, and he was striking every goblin within reach. Maria whimpered as he got closer and closer to the raised stone dais, and clutched her wand for dear life; she needed a plan, some way to get the upper hand without risking a misplaced jinx.

Maria skulked in the dark room as precious seconds passed, always wavering in her resolve. However, when the opportunity did present itself her attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to her father that he miraculously missed death by an inch -

These goblins were aiming to kill. A brief glance at Derwent showed a less fierce battle, though out of the two Aurors only Proudfoot stayed unscathed. For some reason, they were circling her father and she saw it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to stand his ground. The goblins seemed tired, though they were not worse for wear like her father whose movements were slower and more contrite. Perhaps it was a side-effect to smoking, or his age had finally caught up, but Maria feared one of them wouldn't return home.

Maria heard footsteps from behind her and turned around, still holding the wand tightly in her hand: Daphne stood at the threshold, breathless and seemingly taken aback by the blood covering the floor and the chaos in front of them.

Both witches stared at each other.

'Maria - no!' cried Daphne, all of a sudden running forward as Maria lunged into the Death Chamber with surprising swiftness, having made her decision when she saw the two Aurors trailing behind her friend.

And she was off, scrambling down the stone benches. Daphne was shouting behind her, but Maria did not care, aiming curses at the goblin's feet as her father was hit by a spell and fell to his knees –

And suddenly she was in the great stone pit some twenty feet below, her legs sore from running down the steep steps. Only there she noticed that the temperature had dropped, and the more she got closer to the tall archway, the colder the air was. For some reason, she started hearing a faint murmuring.

'Stupefy!' gasped Maria and a jet of red light hit the nearest goblin; it sent him flying backwards into another group, knocking them over the uneven rocky surface. Another wandless goblin launched himself down the dais at her head, but a well aimed jinx threw him off balance.

'Proudfoot,' she breathed, turning to look at her savior. Directly above her stood the Auror, drawing a helpful hand for her to climb, his face pale and bruised.

He gave Maria a hard stare. 'Miss Cooper,' unveiled concern shone in his eyes. 'There's something you need to know -' the Auror turned swiftly, deflecting a nasty jinx. He was trying to shield her with his body and very much succeeding in this endeavor.

'Later, you daft bat!' she screamed, searching everywhere for her father. Her wits seemed to have left her completely. 'Where is he? Tell me!'

It wasn't long until her eyes fell on her father: he was laying on the floor, being circled by two goblins across the room. She gasped when one of them raised a shiny silver dagger in the air, moving closer and closer to their target. Despite her efforts, Proudfoot's bulk was a too solid obstacle. Maria had some difficulty swirling her wand, and it was a challenge to aim at the goblins when in front of her the Auror couldn't stand still.

It crossed her mind to thank him later for his service, even if it was unwanted. His interference was less of a blessing and more of a hindrance to her cause.

Taking advantage of their difference in height, Maria lunged forward, ducking under Proudfoot's right arm. She figured this had been the first time in a very long while that she did something without a fair amount of plotting.

And then many things happened at once.

The goblins were slow; someone had hit them on their short legs, causing a bleeding that prevented them from standing up. Instead they crawled, intent on maiming. She could pull this off. All she needed was a clear shot. However, Maria wasn't sure of how it ensued, but, as she raised her wand, something compact knocked her sideways and she fell with adown with a thud.

For a long moment, the chamber was ringing with the blast of curses and the laughter of goblins. She clutched her wand tightly, still dazed at the impact. Behind her, the faint murmuring and whispering became louder. It was uncanny, but Maria had the strangest feeling that someone was standing near, though unreachable.

'Stupe -' she tried to finish the spell, but a red jet of light hit her square in the chest.

'No,' she breathed, feeling her body being flung backwards into the Veil, eyes widening in shock. The laughter of goblins died, and she stared into the eyes of the creature who had glared at her during the trial, still not knowing where to place him –

Maria could hear someone call her name from afar, but she was sinking, her body curved in a graceful arc. It was oddly relaxing.

During those last moments, it dawned on her that her free hand was again in her pocket. For some remarkable reason, it had inserted itself inside her robes, rummaging through its contents.

And this time, it wasn't empty.


Act II: Prologue


TA-2941, September 13th.

Maria screamed.

She was falling again, the world – or worlds? – rushing past her, everything in between flashed before her eyes in a familiar dread.

And yet again Maria was falling up. There wasn't much time to consider the intricacies of her situation. Light and dark merged into a blinding, beaming tongue of everything bright until it was snuffed out.

Then, all she saw was blue.

Suddenly Maria became very aware that gravity had played a trick on her because she was now falling down, arms splayed like a bird, and there was fire and a hissing so powerful that she feared her ears might bleed, beckoning her to come closer –

And then there was green, and that green turned into many solid and painful things, until she collided with the ground, face first.

And then, there was dark.

oooOOOooo

Maria opened her eyes and lay quietly a bit longer, until her she became used to the dimness. There was a sort of darkened green glimmer that didn't sit right with her.

She cautiously felt the surface she was laying on, scratching it with one hand. There were twigs, mud and fallen leaves, their dry texture vexing against her skin. It hurt her for some reason, and a brief check showed numerous scratches on her hands, no doubt a consequence of falling.

There was a ringing in her ears that lessened gradually. After a while, she couldn't pick up anything but a soft rustling and a special kind of silence, the type that comes after an unpleasant noise. Her nose reported earthly humidity, crisp and cold at the same time. Not good.

She spluttered something disgusting, horrified that it was mixed with her blood. Her fingers sought out her wand and she squeezed it for comfort as she propped herself to her knees. Details began to distil out of the blur, and Maria's gaze swept across the forest-floor, widening at the matted twigs and tangled boughs upwards where a beam of sun slipped through an opening large enough for someone her size –

Oh.

Kneeling on a bed of piled leaves and other dirty, unmentionable droppings, Maria heaved and whimpered, trying to remember what happened in the Ministry.

'No,' she mumbled, though it was more of a wrecked sob. A little further, where the light of the sun faded, was a small parchment bathed in golden light. Maria crawled in haste, breath hitched when her skinned knees scratched the ground; her robes were torn beyond repair, the once light green velvet turned into a brown-ish and filthy colour.

'No, no, no, no!'

A horrible whimper escaped her lips as she stared at the delicate letterings, her racking sobs echoing in the gloom. Maria stashed the thing into one of her pockets, hot torrents of despair trickling down her cold cheeks. What was happening? Where was her father?

She ignored the queer noises and kept wailing, burying her face in her hands. Something scuffled nearby, hurrying among the leaves though it did not dare show itself in daylight.

It took her a while to calm down, but eventually Maria took a deep breath and looked up at the tall trees, cursing her luck.

Where was this? She wondered if the goblins had hit her with an unknown curse, forcing her to hallucinate. Perhaps they had taken her to the Forbidden Forest that bordered the edges to the grounds of Hogwarts, but how exactly could they managed such a thing? Maria remembered being hit by a spell, flown backwards and –

She froze. One of the goblins had pushed her to the Veil?

Maria shook her head and a few misplaced leaves fell on the ground. If she remembered correctly, the Veil was supposed to symbolize Death, or rather, anyone foolish enough to try and cross it would die. Logically, she couldn't be dead. In fact, she thought with a grimace, she felt very much alive.

She stood up, feeling a light weight against her thigh: Daphne's purse was still with her.

And she had felt something in her pocket; the parchment was still with her. That was impossible, her father had burned it –

Maria gulped. A single tear fell from her eye, as she remembered her father's unconscious body surrounded by goblins. Had he been killed? She didn't want to think about such a tragic outcome at the moment.

Was this all in her mind?

'Best to get out of here,' she mumbled to herself, cleaning snivel on her robes. She was still clutching her wand tightly, glancing around at the silent forest with fearful eyes. This didn't look at all like the Forbidden Forest.

Maria raised her wand. 'Lumos,' she said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help her in her search of a way out. Her stomach turned over at the dark, dense cobwebs, stretching from tree to tree in threads so thick she was disgusted just to look at them. There would be trouble afoot.

With one step at the time, limping from the fall, Maria marched slowly towards a narrow path ahead careful not to make noise. Her sniveling was enough to cause attention in the dark gloom, and she felt odd as if being observed from above.

Minutes later, she screamed.


I'm very sorry for the delay. However, due to stress factors I came down with some mean health issues that prevented me from writing (or doing much at all) and stayed mostly bed-ridden until two weeks ago. Since everything's mostly alright, the next updates will be faster.

So, we're finally in Middle Earth! Poor Maria, I cringed while imagining what will happen next; the spiders were definitely never my favorite part of The Hobbit, but I took the liberty of playing with dates and it made sense that she'd end up during this part of the story. Can't wait until she interacts with ME characters!

Any edits will be announced, so check the chapter regularly in case something changes during the next days. See you in a few weeks!

Next chapter: 9 or 10th of November.