A Strange Land
The castle rises before us, ever on the horizon. There is something there. We have seen lights on the battlements. Our pursuers seem more cautious, we see them occasionally, but they hang back.
Extract from the journal of Michael Durnford, 'Kestrel' to the second expedition.
Pilgrim took the last watch. Despite herself Morgan must have resigned herself to the possibility that he would either slaughter them or that he would not but that in either case it would not matter if they were all too exhausted to protect themselves from other threats. He sat in his conjured throne looking out over the courtyard towards the castle. Nothing had tried to cross the bridge, as far as he knew. It was perhaps a sign that whatever awaited them in the castle was an order of magnitude more terrible. The lights in the castle itself had not reappeared.
Dawn did not come. The sky in the south did grow lighter, but above the castle the night remained unbroken. The stars grew brighter, dancing in the sky in a complex and looping pattern as they shed blue light over the courtyard and painted dark shadows around the castle's leering gargoyles.
At last he stood, stretched and began to wake the others. Sebastian was insensate, but Morgan, Clara, Luci and Theo woke, if slowly. They ate lightly on oatcakes and cheese. A faint light gilded the mountaintops, though the sun refused to rise.
'It would seem that you were wrong: dawn is not arriving,' Morgan observed before she washed down the food with a swig of water. 'Now, once we're out of here I'll be getting everyone a round. So, time to pick up your wands and get this done if you want to keep me to that promise. We're going in to look for survivors. If possible, we'll look for answers too, but that is secondary. Understood?'
'What are we going to do about these three?' Pilgrim asked, pointing towards Sebastian and the two Teds.
'I guess we'll try waking them up. I reckon we can't just take both … of Them with us. Clara, you okay girl? You look like you saw a ghost,' Morgan said, as she turned back towards the aurors.
'I didn't sleep well captain. I had strange dreams. All night I swear I was sitting across the fire from a man. He just kept grinning,' she trailed off, shivering.
'Probably just the place. You'll get a good night's rest when we're done here,' Morgan said, though she did not sound convinced.
Luci slipped over to Clara and put her arm around her as Morgan turned to the Teds. The Captain drew her wand and gesture to Pilgrim and Theo to do likewise. Pilgrim watched her as she pulled herself together in a physical effort before pointing her wand to the first Ted's chest. 'Rennervate.'
The two figures of the man opened their eyes at once. The one on the left pulled against his bonds once and then fell still. The other Ted was marginally slower for a moment and then they synchronised falling completely motionless save for their eyes which tracked across the faces of the group.
'Okay, you two, take a drink and then we'll ask you a few questions,' Morgan said trying to move past the blank stares as she levitated a bottle of water over to them. It sat in between them, untouched. They focused unblinking eyes on her. 'Um … so, where were you born?' She asked.
'Were you born?' They echoed together in a dead monotone.
'Captain, I'm not sure this is a good idea,' Clara ventured.
'A good idea,' They said, eyes flicking over to her.
'Perhaps we should stun them again. Or at least step away?' Theo suggested, he could not hide the distaste for them as he spoke and had already taken a step back as they began to echo them.
'Any theories, Pilgrim?'
'Pilgrim?' They said, eyes flicking towards Morgan and then to Pilgrim. Pilgrim just shook his head. He kept his mouth closed, torn between curiosity and to his own surprise a chilly fear. They were moving almost entirely in sync one the tiniest fraction behind the other.
'What if they aren't human?' Clara said, she had her wand trained on them, the tip wavering slightly.
'Human?' They asked as if they were tasting the word or the concept and Pilgrim wondered If he had imagined the croon in the voice.
'But they were fighting when we saw them,' Luci protested.
'We saw them.' There was no doubt that time. The voice was shifting, taking its own meaning from the words.
'Who are you? Tell us your name,' Morgan ordered, trying to reassert control over the situation.
'Your name.'
'What is It doing?' Theo asked and Pilgrim noted the change in term. The thing before them was no longer a he or a they, it was an It. It stared at them and very slowly the lips twisted upwards in what might have been an empty mockery of a smile.
'Learning?' Pilgrim suggested and despite himself an almost hysterical laugh burst from him. 'Predicting? Absorbing, maybe? It is becoming more intelligent worryingly fast. In any case I think you were right. Probably best if we all step away now.'
'You were right. Step away now.'
'It didn't just repeat that time,' Clara said. Her voice was strained and tight, almost on the very of panic. She stepped backwards as It mouthed her words silently at her, still grinning before It swung Its heads back towards Morgan.
'Everyone back-up. Luci, get Sebastian,' Morgan ordered. 'No-one is to speak to It.'
They retreated from the camp onto the other side of the courtyard and huddled around a damp limestone pillar. In the light of the false dawn which had come the courtyard looked like a strange and mythical battleground. The creeping moss and ivy ran from the mounded bones and skulls in streams and rivulets.
'Theo, keep watching It,' Morgan whispered. 'If It does anything, anything at all tell us.'
'Yes, captain. It's still copying, I think,' Theo said.
'Good lad. Now, everyone: thoughts?'
'We should kill It,' Luci said abruptly. Pilgrim looked towards her sharply as she clamped a hand over her own mouth. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, but It isn't safe. I don't think that's Ted anymore.'
'I agree,' Pilgrim began, 'but I am not confident that we can kill It. I do not know about you, but I am not sure I want whatever It is crawling up from the ravine after us as we go in there. What if we try to kill It and It just learns from that too?'
'Well we can't leave It behind either. I don't fancy trying to take It with us,' Morgan hissed. The witch looked exhausted, Pilgrim thought. Her close-cropped grey hair was noticeably longer than when they had first set out too, another sign that either time or their memories were playing tricks.
'Then we're at an impasse,' Pilgrim said with a shrug.
'What is the worst that can happen if we take It with us?' Morgan asked.
Pilgrim turned to look at It. It stared back, unblinking. There was a shadow of Its presence already lying over the courtyard: an icy coiling smoke which circled them, waiting for a moment to strike. Pilgrim shuddered and looked away. 'At a guess It will shift to one of us. Drain us, perhaps? I don't know what It is doing. Feeding would be bad enough … if It is learning though we need to get away from it immediately.'
'Does anyone think that Ted is still in there?' Morgan asked.
A glance was enough to show that they did not. Clara seemed to struggle with admitting it for a moment before she shook her head.
'Even if there were we couldn't help without St Mungo's and if we were to do that we might be bringing back something far worse,' Luci said grimly.
'I'm not sure that we have a choice though?' Theo said, uncomfortably. 'Surely it wouldn't be right to just leave him.'
Pilgrim let them discuss it without interruption. It was on intriguing point: whatever malevolent presence was here had not spread out to the rest of Britain yet, or at least not obviously so. It could be that it was gathering its strength, perhaps even sending out spies into the world beyond. Alternatively, it could be sealed within this pocket of reality, an airlock between wherever it had come from and Earth's dimension, Hogwart's final defence of its children. If the latter were the case the danger would manifest itself when a way out was opened.
'Pilgrim?'
'Mmm? What?' He asked, brought back to the moment.
'We will tie them up further. Then we leave them for now. Perhaps the library, if it is intact, will help,' Morgan said. 'Now, pack up. We're moving out.'
They moved around the camp quickly and quietly. None of them were at ease spending much longer there. No one spoke and It did not move, but Pilgrim could not help but keep It in at least his peripheral vision. The others gave It a wide berth. A conjured band of steel was levitated towards It and fixed to the stone balustrade behind It. Pilgrim could not help but feel slightly relieved once that was done and at the thought that no one would magically or physically touch It. Even the presence was unsettling and he let out a sigh he had not known he had been holding as they stepped away from it and edged towards the castle in the unnatural light of the unending night.
They backed around the edge of the courtyard, keeping out of sight of the battlements and windows where possible. Theo levitated Sebastian's body along with them. Their footsteps stirred the thick dust and echoed softly from the columns. The great gate of the castle was shut, iron studs dotted the thick planks of oak. Pilgrim ran his hand down the wood. There was a faint spark of energy within it, a touch of warm and welcoming magic.
'There is still a bit of Hogwarts left, I think. Auror Luciana, if you would not mind, could you give me a hand and help push? I think it might be more receptive to one of its own children,' Pilgrim said as he set his shoulder to the door. Luci nodded and together they heaved against the weight of the right-hand half of the gate. For a moment Pilgrim was unsure as to whether it would move and then it slid open smoothly a few feet. They let it rest and Pilgrim turned to usher the others past.
Morgan and Theo went first, guiding Sebastian. Lcui followed them into the dark hall beyond. Pilgrim was about to turn and enter the castle himself when Clara gave a sharp intake of breath and he glanced around again. There seemed nothing amiss. It was still watching them, but it remained bound and motionless.
'What is it? What did you see?' Pilgrim asked.
'I … I'm not sure. I thought there was a shadow. Over there,' she said, pointing to a column near It.
Pilgrim took a step forwards, peering into the cloister. Only he and Clara stood in the open gates now. In the courtyard nothing stirred. It seemed frozen in a starlit moment. Pale skulls gazed up at them from the dusty blue cobblestones. Nature seemed to hold its breath. There was a tension in the air, anticipation, an electricity which thrummed across the skin. With a shudder Pilgrim stepped backwards, pulling Clara with him and with an effort heaved the gate to. In that instant he thought he saw a momentary flicker of movement, but it was lost behind the gate as it closed with a muffled booming which echoed in the vaulted hall.
The echoes slowly faded and after a moment of silence there as a general sense of relief amongst the group as nothing new emerged. They stood at the base of the broad golden steps which ran up to the doors into the Great Hall. The torches had long since guttered out and the air was still and musty. There was the pervasive smell of old damp stone. Pilgrim lit his wand and then let the were-light float away from him bobbing as it hung like a lantern before him. For a moment there was a tremor which ran through the air and he tensed, but if anything had sensed the spell there was no further sign. The others slowly did the same, a sense of the awe that had struck them when they had first seen Hogwarts making their movements almost reverential.
Here and there signs of a fierce battle by the defenders of the castle lay: the stone was scorched and scarred by spells; strange crystalline lumps which might have been remains lay scattered up the flight of stairs before them and the stair cases which had branched off to either side had been shattered and turned to dust; a barricade of tables, now broken and cracked, had barred entry to the Great Hall behind the doors which had been torn from their hinges; statues of armoured warriors stood on the steps, some pulverised, others partially melted into slag.
'What happened here?' Theo asked as he stepped over a portion of the floor which rose in a tracery of stone branches to grasp something long since gone.
'They fought to defend the children's escape. The castle mounted the last defence it could,' Luci said quietly.
'And they lost,' Pilgrim added.
'Most of the children escaped. It sounds like a victory to me,' Morgan said.
'Whose bones were outside then? The seventh years must have fought and died here. A Pyrrhic victory at best,' Pilgrim said, and he stalked past her, climbing the steps and looking into the Great Hall.
The spells on the ceiling had faded until now there were only patches where the stars shone between beams of dark oak. The hall was almost entirely bare. The tables had all been swept to the main doors, barricading them. The glass from the windows had been torn out and lay in splinters over the main doorway; several spears of stained glass were deeply embedded into the wood. The tapestries around the walls were empty too as if the animals and figures had fled or been slain. Black liquid pools lay on the bare flagstones. The house banners were bare too though the fates of their occupants were more clearly seen. There were four great constructs of cloth and still flickering energy lay on the stones: badger, serpent, lion and eagle. To judge by the great rents which covered them they had not fallen easily. One of the two side doors was entirely caved in, rubble spilling out from it. The other was still clear, although cracks ran over the stonework around it and the door itself was nowhere to be seen.
'What can possibly have done all this?' Theo said. He looked pale in the wan light. 'Half a dozen dragons couldn't have managed it.'
'The wards must have been overwhelmed too for them to reach this far. I doubt that the things hunting us in the forest could have done this,' Pilgrim said. 'If they had we would surely be dead already.'
'I doubt we'll find the answers here,' Morgan said. 'Doesn't look as if anyone has been here in years.'
'You think time is running differently here?' Pilgrim asked as he picked his way across the hall to the dais where a stone statue stood beside a cloth covered shape which hung limply like a scarecrow.
'Probably,' Morgan said as she examined the passage which still led out of the hall. 'Found anything?'
'Two of our defenders, I think,' Pilgrim called back. He bent to examine the scarecrow. It was made from fused bones, a spine melted together forming the main strut of it. The cloth covering it was an old and dusty robe, of a size for a child or a very small adult. 'Someone made their last stand here,' he said as he traced the grooves cut into the ancient stone.
'Professor Flitwick, I'd guess,' Luci said behind him. She looked shaken and her fair skin had an unhealthy waxy note to it.
'And this lady?' He asked, pointing to the statue of a tall witch in a broad hat who had turned her wand on herself. 'Who is this?'
'You didn't go to Hogwarts then? This was Professor McGonagall, the transfiguration mistress,' Luci said. She turned aside and Pilgrim assumed that she was trying to hide her tears.
'I think I heard of her once. The name rings a distant bell. You knew them then?' He asked, prowling around the statue. The starlight fell over McGonagall's frozen and upturned face painting it in ghastly hues.
'I did. Professor Flitwick was my head of house. They were good people,' Luci murmured.
'And excellent warlocks,' Pilgrim said. 'I think we may give them that title. Few would have stood and fought as they did. Although, I wonder though … you say that she taught transfiguration?'
Luci turned back to him. Sniffing she wiped a sleeve across her nose before dabbing the cuff at her eyes once more and nodded. 'That's right.'
'Well, well. We may have a little more reason to hope then,' Pilgrim said. 'It would seem that the attackers may know as little of our magic as we know of theirs.'
'Meaning?' Morgan asked. She strode across the hall towards them, drawing her cloak tighter around her as she advanced towards the dais over which the broken great windows opened onto the cold night.
'Self-transfiguration is dangerous. Almost impossible to reverse yourself, and if you are not a master you might well end up killing yourself. However, your transfiguration mistress is a marvel. Here, touch the stone,' he said guiding Morgan's hand to the stony skin. 'Can you feel that?'
'There's a pulse?'
'Magic at least. She turned herself to stone. A gamble, but it paid off. The attackers left her. If the spell is carefully broken, we could bring her back,' Pilgrim mused, brushing dust from the statue's hat.
'Well, get on with it then!' Morgan ordered.
'It might be wiser to wait,' Pilgrim said. 'Reluctant as I am to admit it this is an area where Dumbledore's expertise is greater than mine. I could try, but I cannot promise that she would have either all of her memories or health. The body and the brain in particular are dangerous to toy with.'
Morgan grimaced considering her options, Pilgrim assumed. He turned back to McGonagall, examining the petrified witch. Her face was twisted in a rictus of fear and defiance. The granite robes were scored with cuts and holes from the battle. Her posture was one of exhaustion. He wondered how long she and Flitwick had held in the face of the assault.
'I think that she may also need a healer when she is released. If I might make a suggestion: I could manage a delicate shrinking spell on her and perhaps Sebastian. It should do no harm at present and we can undo it when we return to the outside world,' Pilgrim offered. 'It would be good if we were prepared to leave here quickly afterwards though. There's a feeling in the air I do not like. Something is looking for us and power draws Powers.'
'I'm not sure that makes sense. Still, I have to admit, this is a bit beyond me. She might have information we need now!' Morgan said, running a hand through her hair. 'Bloody hell. I'd give my right arm to have her with us. Luci, could you stabilise her?'
'Captain, we don't know what condition she'll be in. If its anything more than light injuries I expect we'd lose her. Given what we can see of the retreat …' Luci trailed off.
'Merlin damn it. Alright. Pilgrim, you shrink her. Luci, help me put Flitwick to rest a bit more respectfully whilst he does it,' Morgan ordered.
Pilgrim nodded and crouched beside the statue. He conjured a piece of chalk and began to mark a circle of sigils on the floor around McGonagall and Sebastian as Theo lowered the unspeakable to the ground beside Pilgrim. Beside him Morgan and Luci moulded the flagstones of the dais, pulling them apart like putty as they shaped a small grave for Flitwick. Theo and Clara joined them and the four remaining aurors gathered around the impromptu grave.
'Anyone want to say anything?' Morgan asked as she lowered the bones gently. 'I can't help feeling we should have done something for the poor kids outside.'
'We're doing what we can, Captain,' Luci offered and then turned to the grave. 'Thank you, Professor. You were always kind to me. You helped me when I thought no one would … I, oh this is stupid I don't have the right words.'
Clara moved over to Luci and hugged her girlfriend tightly, whispering something Pilgrim could not hear as they stepped back from the grave.
'I'm sorry I didn't know you better, Sir,' Theo said slowly as he looked down. 'You always seemed fair. It isn't right that we're going to leave you here. You deserved better.'
Morgan waited for a long moment, then when no one seemed to want to speak again she waved her wand. The pile of stone and rubble they had removed from the hole flowed back into it like water before the excess rose into a flat squared off tombstone. She drew her wand through the air slowly and lines of fire licked over the surface before fading to deeply etched words: Filius Flitwick. Head of Ravenclaw House.
Pilgrim finished the last of the looping sigils and struck it with his wand. They glowed briefly and the statue of McGonagall and Sebastian's body shrunk until it was about six inches high. Conjuring a steel case, he put the statuette inside before casting a charm on Sebastian and tucking him into a pocket.
'What were the runes for?' Theo asked.
'They help to make the spell as even and stable as possible. Important when dealing with human transfiguration. We hardly want any mistakes now, do we?'
Pilgrim said. He stood up and dusted himself down. 'Now, which way, Captain?'
'The library. Then we move on to the dungeons. Then the towers. I want us to clear here methodically. No magic from here on out unless absolutely necessary. There are some old torches on the wall over there, light them and put out your wands. I don't doubt something is in here with us. We've already been too reckless,' Morgan said as she began to cross the hall again.
It swiftly became apparent that the Great Hall was in a substantially better condition than the rest of the castle. The corridors were darker and more tangled than Pilgrim remembered. The stones were warmed and oily. The walls ran with iridescent seams of rock and glistened with terrible light when the flames from the torches ran over them.
The windows oozed baleful light over the winding passageways which seemed to twist ever deeper into the depths of the castle. It did not take long before it was clear that they were utterly lost. They footsteps and the slow dripping of water from the ceilings of the corridors were the only sound as they walked.
Occasionally they came upon courtyards and places where the passages opened up into strange chambers of irregular formations, more like caves than rooms. In the first such room there was a black tree which curved upwards towards a domed ceiling shrouded in shifting shadows. Pilgrim's breath stilled as he entered the room and looked up at the tree. In place of leaves the tree bore white candles which stretched upwards, thin flames dancing in a wind he could not feel. They inched around the room, each breath almost a shout in the silence which was only occasionally broken by the crackle of a flame. There was a sense of loss and mourning in that room which did not leave them for some time.
The solemnity of the place only finally left them when they came upon a courtyard where half a dozen statues stretched towards something unseen with inhuman arms. The various exists had been covered with ivy and creeping vines. The statutes faces were carved with agonizing detail every pore visible on the stretched faces. Long grass lapped their feet and swayed under a gentle breeze.
'I don't remember anything like this,' Luci whispered as she tip-toed between the statues.
'A bit facetious of me to point it out, I know, but I rather think it wasn't here,' Theo said as lightly as he could. 'I can't imagine that anyone ever bought statuary like this. It's hardly a group of garden gnomes.'
'Why would you keep gnomes?' Luci asked. 'They bite. Vicious little beasts.'
'No, I mean muggle gnomes.'
'Are they better natured?'
'No, well yes. They're sort of silly little things. Red hats and fishing rods,' Theo tried to explain. He ducked underneath an extended stony hand.
'They're a subspecies with a pescatarian diet?' Luci asked. 'I suppose that doesn't sound as bad. At least you wouldn't see them unless you're near a river or lake.'
'The gnomes are little statues, Luci,' Theo said. 'Muggles don't actually have living gnomes. At least, I don't think so.'
Huh. Are they attracted to magic then? I always just assumed they were regular pests,' Luci said as she began carefully pulling apart the knotted vines which criss-crossed the exist to the courtyard. 'The gardeners always disposed of any which came in.'
'I really don't have anything to say which could possibly follow that,' Theo said with a chuckle.
They left the courtyard with the statues behind them and carried on although a lethargy crept over them as they wandered the seemingly empty halls. From time to time there were small signs that there were perhaps other things moving within the labyrinth. Down one corridor ran a slimy rut. Small chips of teeth and lumps of fleshy material glistened along the trail. There was no discussion over the route between them when Morgan led them away from that tunnel.
Eventually they came across a side passage which led away from the main trail and which had fallen in after some thirty or forty feet. It was set with low stone benches and it was clean by the standards of the main passages. The air was still musty, but it tasted fresher than it had, and it seemed as good as anywhere to stop for lunch. At the furthest end, beneath the rubble of the fallen roof there were a handful of broken chitinous limbs. The remains were enough to ensure that most of them stayed closer to the entrance.
Morgan sat beside the entrance itself as she watched the corridor and slowly chewed her food. Luci and Clara were sat together. They said little to one another, instead they simply held each other's hands. Theo hesitated at first and then sat down on a rocky protrusion near Pilgrim who was slowly examining the wall of the passage. Pilgrim had found a knife in one of the packs and was trying to take samples from growths which had blossomed on the farthest parts of the passage walls.
'What are you looking for?' Theo asked as he settled himself, trying not to look towards the twisted broken things at the end of the corridor.
'If this material comes from the attackers, or was produced by the castle as part of its defence it might give us an advantage in the fight to come,' Pilgrim said as he prised a crumbling piece of stone an lichen from the wall. 'Ordinarily the stones of Hogwarts were enchanted against anything of this sort.'
'I guess that makes sense,' Theo said with a shrug. He settled back against the wall, watching Pilgrim work.
'You've known Auror Luciana for a while then?' Pilgrim asked as he bagged up the samples.
'She was a few years below me in school. Why do you ask?' Theo said glancing up the corridor towards the others.
'You seem familiar with one another. What's she like normally? She seems a little on edge,' Pilgrim suggested as he moved up the passage, looking for further samples.
'Fairly relaxed, I guess, for a posho. She's good to have with you. Quick with a wand and a good eye. I once saw her take down a half-troll and she barely broke her stride to do it,' Theo said, 'but I guess that yeah, she's a bit on edge at the moment. Aren't we all?'
'I suppose so. She's pureblooded then?'
'Yeah. Well, I think so. She's not got an old name. Half-blood? Someone's beloved bastard? Not that anyone should think less of her for that, or mention it,' Theo added hurriedly.
'Of course. You are muggleborn though?' Pilgrim asked. 'Forgive me. I'm being unbearably rude. I have not been to Britain in a very long time. I am trying to get back into the swing of things.'
'And so you decided to go on a mission into a disaster zone? I mean, I don't even know what role you're supposed to have here,' Theo said.
'Specialist advisor,' Pilgrim said, and he grinned. There must have been something unnerving in the smile though as Theo looked away uncomfortably.
Before they could continue the conversation, Morgan stood up and shook the biscuit crumbs from her robe. 'Okay everyone. Let's carry on,' Pilgrim noted that she made no pretence that there was a destination in mind now.
There was no indication of the passage of time within the labyrinth of the castle. They continued walking down long winding hallways. Sometimes there were spiral stairs which ended in blank walls. Twice they came upon broad flights of stairs which led downwards. The first time it was at least half an hour of descent before Morgan ordered them to retreat back upwards to other paths. When they next came across a stairwell that led down Luci dropped a loose pebble over the side. They left it and moved onwards when no sound emerged from the depths.
After what might have been two or three hours, they came to a room set a few steps down from the corridor. Mist lay in a thick white layer over the floor. Across from them stood a simple door. The rest of the room was bare, save for unlit braziers around the walls.
'Do you think it's a trap?' Morgan asked.
'I think everything's a trap, it's why I'm still alive,' Theo said and then grinned. 'Don't worry boss. I'm sure nothing it won't be too painful a death.'
Morgan shook her head, but Pilgrim saw a slight smile pull at her lips. She lowered one foot down into the mist. It retracted from her food revealing blocks of stone coated in lichen. 'It seems solid enough. Come on.'
One by one they filed off the narrow staircase and down into the room. The mist drew back from them, welling up to the height of Pilgrim's knees on either side of them, perhaps a foot away. They edged around the room slowly, making as little noise as possible by unspoken agreement.
As Morgan slowly lifted the latch on the door Pilgrim looked around. Something was moving in the mist. The mist swirled and eddied as something skittered over the stone slabs beneath it. He tensed, drawing his wand. Morgan swung the door open apparently oblivious to the awful noise of hundreds of tiny claws rattling over stone and climbed the stairs on the other side moving upwards and away. The others followed, so, so, slowly it seemed to Pilgrim. All the time the skittering grew and grew as more and more claws scrapped over the flagstones. The mist bubbled and contorted, filling up behind them. Still nothing emerged and Pilgrim leapt through the doorway closing it behind him. There was a sound on the other side which he could not have described and then it fell into perfect silence.
'What was in the mist, do you think?' He asked, despite knowing they would have less of an idea than he, as he wiped his brow free of cold sweat.
'What mist?' Clara asked. 'There was just that single black candle in there. Ugh. It chilled me to the bone. I don't think I'll be able to sleep for a week.'
'You saw what?' Theo asked.
The answers were simultaneous: 'Mist'; 'A candle'.
'A basket filled with something hairy and … wriggling,' Luci said. 'Do you think it was some kind of boggart?'
'Maybe,' Pilgrim said doubtfully as he looked back down at the innocent wooden door.
'Come on. Let's get away from whatever it was,' Morgan said, and her voice was shaken.
They pushed themselves onwards always hoping to find some sign of life, or light or an explanation to what had happened. As the hours wore on their spirits seeped away and their muscles began to ache from the continual and pointless wandering through the castle's passageways. There were though some signs that someone else was in the castle.
There were an increasing number of mirrors on the walls or in some places partially polished silverware. Both had obviously been taken from other parts of the castles and placed whenever possible; there were strings covered in small bells or metal objects which might jangle against one another wherever possible and which slowed their progress immediately; and there were pools of solidified wax around candle stubs which had been blown out. The candles were the most disconcerting. Occasional patterns and whorls could be made out in the wax, as if something had slid through it.
By the time Morgan called a halt in a room which was at least dry they were twitching at the smallest of sounds. The room's fireplace was filled with suspiciously human bones. There were only two doors and a small window which looked up to the night beyond. The window itself was set too high in the wall for Pilgrim to see out of and would still have been too much were one of the others to stand on his shoulders, but it did at least provide some fresh air.
They settled down, doing their best to bar the doors. Theo and Clara struggled to light a fire out of the scraps of a broken table. When they managed it was smoky and had to be put out before long. The four aurors indeed up huddling together for warmth as they ate rations of jerky and matzo with a small amount of a lemon cordial from Morgan's pack.
Only Pilgrim sat apart. The chilly air of the room existed beyond him and he ignored it, concentrating instead on the patterns he drew in the ashes of the long dead fire with a shard of yellowed bone.
It was after supper that they began to swap stories. They told tales of their childhoods, retreating from the present. Luci told how she had sneaked out of their mother's house when a muggle carnival had come to the village they had lived near and her awestruck wonder at the slender magician who had performed in front of the children performing marvels she hadn't realised were tricks.
Theo described the moment he had first performed magic, whilst watching the Perseids meteor shower on a summer evening. He had split apart a cloud that had threatened to obscure his view as he clung to his father's hand, though no one else had known he had felt in his bones the call of magic from that moment on. Even Morgan chipped in with a story of fishing with her siblings in the rivers around her childhood home in Gloucestershire.
'And what about you, Pilgrim?' Luci asked, her voice lighter than it had been.
'I don't remember my childhood,' he said curtly. 'It was not a good time.'
It was during the third watch that the sound of someone trying to stealthily open the door woke Pilgrim. Luci had already trained her wand on the door and she noticed him waking. She held a finger to her lips for silence and together they waited, crouched as the door slowly creaked open. The curses on their lips died when through the partially opened door slipped a young man with a gaunt and haunted face.
His fingers curled around the wood of the door. He looked at them in shock for a moment.
'You can't be real,' croaked Harry Potter.
