Introduction: Over 4000 views! I wanna thank you guys so much for all the support, love and sweet messages. Writing this story is working as my therapy while I'm studying hard during my Master degree. I quit my break from the game – thanks to James for teasing me – and I have just started Chapter Four. I confess I do not trust Rakepick and I still have my suspicions on Ben. What do you think? And I'm dying to know who is the mysterious person in the cape from Chapter Three. Any theories? As you guys know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.
Chapter Six – Struck
A week. That's how long Ben has been at the Hospital Wing without seeing anyone. Madam Pomfrey said he was in a critical state the last two hundred times I tried seeing him, and simply shoved me out of there.
He has lost all the first exams and even though I'm trying to convince myself that I'm worried about his academic problems, I know this is not the real issue.
I wanna know if he's okay.
And what led him to that corridor.
And if Merula forced him to go there.
And if this last statement is true, if I'm going to get in trouble for drowning her in the Black Lake.
Somehow I managed to succeed in all my exams. Thankfully, Aunt Anise isn't back yet and Professor Snape was responsible for elaborating our test. It was a disaster for everyone who took Aunt Anise's lessons seriously, since Professor Snape actually created some very respectable and intricate questions. It was almost pleasing to answer that test, to be honest. I don't know why, but I like how he always challenges my intellect.
We start to learn about Immobolus in Charms class and it's awful not to see Ben sitting in his usual spot. People seem to be having a lot to talk about him: how he's not only a coward and a freak, but he's also irresponsible and stupid. I lost count of the times I told people to shut the fuck up.
Along with Immobolus we have to practice the general counter-spell, which is Finite Incantatem. Rowan seems to be having a good time while pointing her wand at me and immobilizing me over and over again. I, on the other hand, am wondering when I'll be able to use this spell on Merula. Maybe then I can drown her in the Black Lake. She'll be already immobilized, so it won't be too difficult.
In Potions, we learn how to brew a Hair-Raising Potion. I confess I don't know when it will come in handy, except for making people look crazy. But despise all its inutility, Professor Snape thinks this is a safe potion for us to finally test on ourselves.
"Now," he says. "Who is brave enough to try your own potion? If it's flawlessly done, your hair shall stand on end. If not, it is very likely that it will just all fall off."
It's hard to affirm, but I could swear a devilish smile appeared on his lips. I grab a flask, filling it with a bit of the potion, and raise it to my lips.
"Are you insane?" Rowan says. "What if your hair falls off?"
"It won't," I say, drinking my potion, which tastes a bit like green tea.
It is instant. The minute I drink the last drop, all my hair raises to the ceiling, and I probably look like the Bride of Frankenstein. The whole class bursts into laughter, with the exception of Professor Snape. He's actually looking at me with his lips pressed together, probably containing some very mischievous giggles.
After my demonstration of bravery – which I don't think was actually bravery, but anyway – all the other students decide to try their potions too. Rowan laughs out loud when her hair goes up, looking like she's been electrocuted. Professor Snape seems to be having a good time too, and I wonder if he taught us this potion just to let off some steam after the exams.
"No!" we hear and exclamation coming from the back of the class. A Slytherin girl whose name I think it's Evelyn is crying in desperation, her long locks of black hair falling to the ground.
"Holy crap," I hear Rowan say to herself.
Professor Snape says nothing. He simply walks to her, touches her bald head with the tip of his wand, and a bunch of black hair instantly starts growing, falling down her shoulders until it reaches the length it was before. For some reason, this makes her cry even more.
"Class dismissed," he says, and we all leave with our hair still standing, looking completely crazy.
It takes about an hour for our hairs to go back into normal again, and Professor McGonagall seems to be having a hard time concentrating to teach how to transfigurate a bird into a goblet.
I try to go and see Ben after Herbology, but Rowan is skeptical that Madam Pomfrey will allow us to see him.
"I'll wait for you in the library," she says, turning a corridor while I continue ahead to the Hospital Wing.
There are more students here this time: some just having their arms bandaged, some drinking potions, some just lying there like they're sleeping, and, in a bed next to a window, is Ben.
"You again, Miss Lockhart," Madam Pomfrey says when I walk into the Hospital Wing.
"I just want to know if he'll be alright," I tell her, not attempting to go and walk to his bed like I've done before and she yelled at me.
"I believe so," she says, calmly, handing a glass full of some bluish liquid to a girl who is looking awfully pale. "His memory is erratic, but I've seen patients in far worse conditions."
"Did he…" I start saying, feeling a weight in my heart. "Did he ask to see me?"
"Many times, actually," Madam Pomfrey says, raising her thin brows at me. "Along with other strange proclamations and requests. I believe he's experiencing some state of delirium."
I look at him from where I'm standing. The color has returned to his cheeks and his eyes are slightly opened, like he's just bored.
"Can I talk to him?" I ask her, already prepared for a negative answer.
"Yes," she says, sharply, staring at me with her intense blue eyes. "But be brief. He's in a very delicate state."
I do not wait to see if she might change her mind; I rush to Ben's bed, trying really hard not to cry when he looks at me with his big brown eyes.
"Athena," he says and his voice is a little hoarse. "You came."
"Every day, Ben," I say, sitting in a chair next to his bed. "Madam Pomfrey said you weren't well enough to receive visitors."
He simply smiles at me; a very sad and subtle smile. His hand reaches for mine, holding it very lightly, like he doesn't have much strength. His skin is cold as ice and his lips are still a little purplish.
"How are you feeling?" I say, holding his hand between mine, trying to warm them.
"Honestly?" he says. "Like complete shit," he giggles and I feel better that he still holds some sense of humor.
"Ben," I say, rubbing my thumb over the back of his ice cold hand. "What happened to you? How did you end up in that corridor?"
He blinks at me, his face showing deep frustration.
"I don't remember," he says with resentment. "I don't know how it all happened. All I remember was standing there, a whole lot of ice surrounding me, and not being able to call for help."
"Oh, Ben," I say, bringing his hand to my lips, gently exhaling some warm breath to his skin, which hasn't changed temperature. "We tried so hard finding you. Mr. Filch looked everywhere for you. Rowan and I even invaded the Gryffindor Common Room because of a clue we found in the Artifact Room. It all led to that corridor."
"Really?" he says, looking a bit shocked. "I don't remember finding anything. Madam Pomfrey says it might be a side effect of the cursed ice."
"That's enough for today, Miss Lockhart," Madam Pomfrey says, looking at me with severe eyes. "Mr. Copper needs his rest."
"Yes, Madam," I say, placing a gentle kiss on Ben's hand and leaving the Hospital.
Inside me a fidgety feeling starts to grow: something is really, really wrong.
"Maybe he's lying," Penny says while we're heading to the Astronomy Tower. "Maybe he's trying to protect us."
"Or maybe he's being threatened," Rowan instigates, biting the skin around her thumb. "I keep what I said before. I think Merula has something do to with this."
"I'm not saying I doubt you, Rowan," I say. "But we can't do anything without proof."
"It sucks," she says, snorting in profound discomfiture.
"We should investigate," Penny says with a concentrated expression. "I mean, what if Merula is, in fact, behind of all this? What if she was the one who sent the messages? Maybe her middle name is Rachel."
"Or Ramona," I giggle.
"Or Really-Really-Really-Annoying," Rowan joins us in our joke.
It's still dark when Rowan starts poking me while I'm trying to sleep. A quick look in my watch and I see it's still six o'clock.
"Rowan," I whisper. "Go back to sleep."
"I can't," she says. "We need to investigate that corridor. Now."
"Are you insane?" I ask. "We're going to get caught."
"No, we won't." she says. "The entire castle is still asleep. Come on. Let's go."
She won't let me sleep if I don't get up. I put on my vests and follow her silently, tiptoeing until we finally get out of our Common Room. We walk through the desert and dark corridors of the castle, looking over our shoulders to make sure neither Filch nor Mrs. Norris is around. The corridor is in the other side of Hogwarts, far away from Ravenclaw's Tower. By the time we finally get there, I can see the first sunbeams rising from behind the clouds.
"Hurry," Rowan says, pulling me by arm.
The corridor is completely desert, with the exception of all the ice rocks making it hard to walk without touching anything.
Rowan starts looking everywhere: under benches, in the torches, by the windows, under the carpet… It doesn't seem to be nothing out of ordinary there. Except the ice, of course. But while I'm walking around, my fingertips tracing the stone wall, I feel slightly colder.
"Rowan," I call her. "In here. I feel a draught coming from this wall."
Rowan rushes to me, her wand in hand.
"Do you feel it too?" I ask. "Like it's colder in here?"
"Yes," she says. "Maybe there's something hidden."
Rowan takes a deep breath in and points her wand to the wall.
"Revelio," she casts, and the wall starts to gently glisten, like the stones are actually made of a shiny see-through veil.
And behind it: a huge staircase.
A terrible feeling starts to overpower me.
There's something wrong with this place.
"It's the staircase from my dreams," I murmur, holding my wand tightly.
"It must be it," Rowan says. "The Vanished Stairs. From the message."
"What do we do now, Rowan?" I ask her in an uneasy whisper.
"Let's go," she says, pulling me towards the staircase.
It is really colder in here, like it's endless wintertime, but there's a dark energy in the atmosphere. Covering our ankles is a sinister mist; dense like a cloud, but its coldness pierces my feet, which are only covered by my socks and loafers.
"It's too cold in here," I whisper. "We should come back with warmer clothes."
"And you don't think people will notice?" Rowan says, her voice slightly trembling with the cold. "Two girls walking around looking like they're going to Siberia?"
I follow her upstairs, turning a few corners, until we're faced with the most majestic corridor I've ever seen. There are torches everywhere, but none of them has fire. On both sides of the corridor are suits of armors, all holding spears, shields and swords, but they all seem to be made of solid rock. The floor seems to be covered in some kind of frost and I can barely see the carpet under it.
"Look," Rowan says. "There are footprints on the ground."
I look forward and I can see them, perfectly marked in the frost: a set of footsteps. Rowan looks at me with deep concern, but then she nods at me and we continue our path, following those footprints to whatever it is that they're leading.
"Do you think they're Merula's?" I ask, rubbing my arms in a useless attempt to warm myself.
"Maybe they're Ben's." she says.
She says nothing else, but I know she's thinking the same as I am. Maybe those prints aren't Merula's or Ben's. They may belong to someone else.
Or something.
The corridor seems to never end, and the air just keeps getting colder and colder. Rowan gets nearer, hooking her arm in mine, and I can see our breaths in front of our faces.
"What the hell…" Rowan says when the corridor finally reaches its end. In the final wall there's a big archway, but we can't see what's on the other side. A thick mist is covering the passage.
"Do you think it's wise?" I ask. "Walking through it?"
"No," she says. "Let's try to push it away."
She points her wand to the mist and looks at me with determination.
"Flipendo!" a bright white light comes out from her wand, hitting the wall of mist.
For my astonishment, the mist dissipates, revealing the most beautiful icy room, with frost covering all the walls and pillars, stalagmites and stalactites everywhere, and a huge frozen door, with a gigantic snowflake guarding it like a gate.
"It's incredible," I say, walking with Rowan to the door, standing right in front of the five steps which lead to it.
"Everything is covered in snow and frost," Rowan says, looking around, completely mesmerized.
"Do you think this is a Cursed Vault?" I ask, staring at the huge door, my heart pounding hard in my chest.
"Should we try to open it?" she looks at me, biting her bottom lip with doubt.
"I don't know," I say, climbing those steps and approaching the door, looking at the glass-like ice, reaching my hand to touch the snowflake.
When my fingertips touch the cold surface, I feel immediately strange. My thoughts begin to twist and whirl like a hurricane, and a lot of images flash through my mind, my heart racing painfully against my ribcage.
"Athena!" Rowan exclaims, her hand pressing my arm. "What's going on?"
"I saw something," I say, breathing hard. "In my head."
"Like a vision?" she asks. "What did you see?"
"I saw two rooms," I tell her. "One dark, loaded with books. The other cluttered, with a door outlined in chalk. And…"
"And what?" Rowan seems to be getting really nervous.
"And You-Know-Who. I don't even know what he looks like… but I saw this man… and I knew it was him."
"Athena, I'm not liking this at all," she says, desperate. "Let's get out of here."
"ROWAN, DUCK!" I yell, pushing her away.
A beam of glistening light comes out from the door, hitting the place we were standing a second ago.
"It must be enchanted!" Rowan shouts.
"Watch out!" I yell when another beam strikes in our direction.
I manage to dodge it, falling hard on the snowy floor. I look at Rowan, but she doesn't look back at me.
My heart seems to stop.
Rowan.
I rush to her, kneeling on the snow next to her unconscious body, putting my ear over her chest. My hands are shaking so much that I don't know if it's because of the cold or because I'm freaking out.
Inside her chest I hear a gentle drumming, but it's so much slower than it should be.
Oh, no.
No. No. No. No!