Chapter Eight

The Archway

Albus knew he couldn't take the phone out of his trunk without waking Finn or Scorpius. Conceding that it was better to have help, he informed the two of his plan after dinner, before Minghao, Barry, or Gore returned to the dormitory.

"I think we can all fit under the Cloak," Albus said. "We're going to take the phone out and find the source of this signal."

"Won't that take a while?" Scorpius protested. "The castle has almost seven floors!"

"But we know the general direction," Albus insisted. "It's likely somewhere on the west side of the castle. We just need to do some detective work."

"And what about the girls?" Finn asked. "They'll hear it, too."

"Rose isn't coming," said Albus. "I think she'll tell Talia the same."

"Albus," said Scorpius hesitantly. "Is this really that important?"

"Yes," said Albus immediately. "I was thinking about what Rose said, that the phone went silent in the trunk, and I have a theory."

"Not another one," Scorpius muttered.

"It's easy enough to test," Albus said, "but if it works, it'll mean that the girls can sleep in peace."

"When are we waking up?" Finn asked.

"One-thirty. I'll wake you guys. I doubt I'll be able to sleep, anyways."

"I suggest you strongly consider letting me sleep," Scorpius proposed.

"Sorry, mate," said Albus. "I need one person smarter than me to make sure I don't do anything stupid."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Finn mumbled, climbing into his own bed.

"Why can't it be Rose?" Scorpius asked.

Albus grimaced. "We aren't… aren't on the best of terms right now."

Scorpius looked at Albus worriedly but said nothing. "We'll talk later."

"Later," Albus agreed. "For now, sleep."

Albus, as expected, was entirely unable to sleep. Whenever he tried, his mind circled back to his and Rose's talk. He wished he could go back and time and retract what he said, as the thought of his cousin crying herself to sleep caused a heavy lump of guilt to settle at the bottom of his stomach.

The minutes passed by at the speed of dripping molasses as Albus repeatedly rolled over to check the time. He watched the clock tick past midnight… one o'clock… one-fifteen… one-twenty… one-twenty-five… one-twenty-nine… and, finally, one-thirty.

Albus nearly knocked over the whirring box fan in his haste. He watched apprehensively as it wavered back and forth unsteadily before deciding to settle. Albus gingerly stepped around the fan and tapped Scorpius's shoulder.

Scorpius stirred gently, rubbing his eyes. "Is it time, already?"

Albus nodded. "I was in half a mind to wake you up early."

"Thank god you didn't do that," Scorpius sighed, sitting up and stretching like a Cheshire cat. "How are we meant to wake Finn without disturbing the girls?"

Albus dismissed the unwanted thoughts of his cousin that wandered into his head. "Actually, this presents quite a good opportunity to test my theory."

"Don't blow anything up," Scorpius said mindlessly. He wrinkled his nose. "I'm going to brush my teeth."

"Don't blow anything up," said Albus, walking over to his trunk.

Albus had given the siren's mechanics a good thought. Initially, he had assumed that the noise was inexplicably fickle. But after a great deal of thinking, Albus had realized that whenever the phone had gone silent, it had been sitting underneath the Invisibility Cloak.

Albus gently grasped the Cloak, which had been stuffed into the back corner. He took care to spread the fabric over the entirety of the trunk's opening before pushing his hand inwards, using the Cloak as a kind of glove. He fumbled past multiple items of relative unimportance before landing on the phone.

Albus closed his Cloaked fist around the phone and began easing it past the other items in the trunk. His arm caught the corner of a hardcover book that left a stinging scratch, but Albus bore the fleeting pain and continued. He used his free hand to quickly close the corners of the Cloak shut around his closed fist. To his delight, the phone stayed silent.

"I did it!" Albus whisper-shouted as Scorpius emerged from the washroom.

Scorpius's pointed to his arm. "You're bleeding."

Albus looked back down at the forgotten scrape to find that it had bloomed into a red line of blood. He fumbled for some tissues from Scorpius's bedside while keeping the bottom of the bundle tight against his chest.

As Albus dabbed his cut, Scorpius fetched him a bandage. Albus gestured to the bundled Cloak with his chin. "The phone's in here," he whispered. "Be careful. Make sure there's no leaks in the fabric."

Scorpius accepted the Cloak and cradled it as though it could explode at any moment. Albus took a moment to stop the bleeding before applying the plaster tight, a little too tight, on his arm.

"What now?" Scorpius asked, watching Albus warily.

Albus carefully took the Cloak back. "We wake Finn." He moved around the foot of Scorpius's bed and stopped short of Finn's. "I need your help here."

"Why?" Scorpius asked, scrambling over to Albus's side.

"I dunno if you've ever noticed," said Albus, "but Finn sleeps and wakes like a lion. Grab his arm—yeah, that one. Alright, I'm going to put the Cloak near his ear. Make sure you're holding tight. If this thing goes off, the girls wake up. Ready?"

"Yeah."

Albus pressed the Cloak up to Finn's ear and made the smallest opening. Finn's arm broke free of Scorpius's grip, swinging wildly as he shot up out of bed. Albus darted back and narrowly avoided getting brained.

"What part of 'grab his arm' do you not understand?" Albus demanded, glaring at Scorpius.

"I didn't expect that kind of reaction!" Scorpius hissed. His knuckles had smashed into the metal bedframe, and he rubbed them furiously. "I swear my hand's almost broken."

Finn was on the other side of his bed, winded. "We… need to… come up with a better… better system." He shakily pointed at the Cloak. "That devil device is in there, huh."

"Unfortunately," said Albus, his expression turning grim.

Scorpius stopped nursing his fist, turning his attention to Albus. "What d'you mean?"

Albus looked down miserably at the Cloak's multicolored print. "We need to be inside with it."

O

The boys pilfered a woolen cap from Barry's night stand and mashed it, with the phone inside, onto Finn's head. The top of the hat made direct contact with the Cloak, which, as Scorpius confirmed, was enough to prevent the siren's escape. It was a rather hollow victory, however, as the aural suffering was entirely directed at the boys.

Finn was sandwiched in the middle of the formation as the three shuffled through the halls. Albus and Scorpius stood to either side, tasked with making sure wayward flaps of the Cloak didn't swirl off into the darkness of the corridors, thus rendering their feet visible and the sound audible. They moved with relative success, though their pace slowed as the beacon grew gradually louder.

The noise started out uncomfortable enough, but it had since grown as the trio moved west. As a test of insurance, the three had started moving towards the middle courtyard. The intensity dropped sharply, their best indicator yet that Albus's prediction was right. Indeed, as the boys returned to the main hallway, the beacon's volume augmented like a tuning sine wave.

The noise was uncomfortable, as with volume came an increase in pitch that slowly seeped deeper into the sides of Albus's head. "How much longer d'you think it can go?" he asked, wincing as the noise jumped another few decibels. His whispers were inching closer to the threshold of completely imperceptible.

"I dunno," Finn said with difficulty. "I'm just glad that this thing doesn't obey the laws of sound. My head might've been blown off at this point."

The three stopped in front of the Great Hall. Scorpius looked to his right. "Could it be in there?"

"Maybe," said Albus. "But I'd save that as our backup option. It's been only half hour, and the Great Hall is going to take a good deal of effort to break into unnoticed."

"Keep going, then?" Finn asked.

"Yeah." Albus sighed, wishing he had some kind of magical map. "We've got to start being more discreet, though. Remember, we can still be heard from the outside."

"About that," said Finn. "Why aren't our voices blocked by the Cloak? Is it picky or something?"

"These Cloaks are mass produced," Scorpius suggested. "Perhaps they're weird like that."

"This isn't a mass production," Albus said. "My dad inherited this Cloak. I think it was made by hand, but I don't know who made it or when it was made."

"But that's impossible," Scorpius argued. "Invisibility Cloaks are backed by an enchantment, and those don't last forever."

"Maybe you have to recast it every few years?" Albus offered weakly. "I really have no idea."

"I'm not complaining much," Finn said. "As long as we're obscured, I'm good."

The three approached the end of the corridor. The left side led off towards the Transfiguration hallway, and the right stopped short of the front doors.

Albus looked both ways like he was crossing a street. "Which way?" He turned to Scorpius, who had inexplicably gone wide eyed. "Scorpius?"

Scorpius was staring at the double doors. The locks were massive, horizontal bars of stone that spanned the width of the doorway, arranged in seven rows. "You ever think…" Scorpius spoke slowly. "That the source of this… thing… is outside?"

Albus's heartbeat accelerated. "No, no, no. That's not… surely not. Let's get closer to the doors."

The trio walked towards the doors, and as though the beacon had overheard their conversation, the sound exploded past the point Albus thought was sonically possible. The sheer force of the noise was so powerful that Finn crumpled to the ground. The unobstructed weight of the Cloak brought Albus and Scorpius down with him, and the shroud settled on top of them, unaffected by the overwhelming din.

Albus's back collided with a wall of stone extending from the wall. He wheezed as the impact knocked the wind out of his body. Albus feebly brought his hands up to his ears, but it didn't help. The sound transcended auditory response itself, implanting itself directly into his brain like a hellish leech.

Albus laid wheezing and confounded against the wall for at least thirty seconds before grasping that he had vague control over his motor functions. He stumbled into a position resembling a crouch, tugging on Finn's sleeve.

"Get up!" Albus tried to whisper, but his voice was swept from his own mouth amidst the torrent of sound.

Albus clenched his teeth and dragged Finn to his feet. Scorpius had regained his senses, and he moved to help.

Finn's lolling head suddenly jerked back to life, and he blinked rapidly. His mouth moved frantically, but Albus couldn't hear anything other than the horrid, unimpeded screeching.

Albus turned around to scrutinize the source of the throbbing pain in his spine. His irritation immediately vanished as Albus realized what he was looking at. I was right, he thought to himself, staring up at the golden statue of the Architect of Hogwarts.

Albus turned back to his friends and brought his index finger up to his lips.

Finn clamped his mouth shut. What? he mouthed, exaggerating his movements.

Albus pointed to the statue. I think it has to do with that!

What? Scorpius mouthed, squinting.

The statue! Albus flapped his hands like an inexperienced mime.

Scorpius's face showed recognition. What do we do?

Albus waved his hand, the universal sign for come.

Scorpius and Finn flanked him on either side, giving Albus enough clearance to reach the top of the Architect's foot. He gestured to the hat on Finn's head, and Scorpius shook his head wildly.

No! Scorpius mouthed. We'll get caught!

Albus grunted in frustration and lunged at Finn, snatching the wool-encased phone off of his head. He glanced around quickly before grabbing the Cloak above his head and pulling downwards.

The Cloak slipped off of their shoulders. Albus quickly bundled up the phone before the sound could eke out.

"What the hell?" Scorpius whispered. "We're going to get caught!"

"If you want to get back under there, be my guest!" Albus hissed.

"No thanks. I'll keep lookout," said Finn, already facing down the corridor.

"It's settled, then," said Albus, narrowing his eyes at Scorpius. "Come help me with this."

"What are you doing?" Scorpius demanded.

Albus placed the bundle at the base of the pedestal, placed his hands face down on the stone base, and heaved himself up. He clambered to his feet and just missed hitting his head on the statue.

He crouched and looked out across the hallway. They had a good vantage point. The hallway dead ended at the door, which no one could go out of, and the other way was clear for miles, all the way into the Transfiguration corridor. Finn was positioned next to the wall in shadow, ensuring that he'd catch anyone coming before they saw anything.

"Hand me the Cloak," Albus whispered, looking back down at Scorpius.

"This is a bad idea," Scorpius said, passing it up.

"Probably."

The Architect looked like how a Muggle might picture the quintessential wizard. He had thick, flowing robes with an ornate pleated ribbon down the front, decorated with geometric linework. His beard was curled and twisted into rivulets that came down to his chest, done in a style that Albus could imagine Helios wearing. The Architect stared down at the model of Hogwarts in his right hand. His expression was a mix of forlorn and prideful.

Albus sighed, unsure of what to do. He tried pressing the Cloak to the statue and waited in anticipation for something to happen.

Scorpius cleared his throat quietly. "Erm, nothing's happening."

Albus felt stupid. "Yeah. I dunno what I was expecting." He examined the Cloak. "What now?"

"Is the thing still playing?" Scorpius asked.

"Hold on."

Albus turned the bundle upside down so the folded corners of the Cloak faced upwards. Albus brought his head down to the fabric and, fearing for his sense of hearing, opened and shut the fabric maw as quickly as possible. The beacon was definitely still blaring, as the blast of noise frightened Albus even though he was bracing for it.

"It's still going," said Albus.

"Well, let's go back then," said Scorpius. "If the source of the beacon isn't this, it's outside. We're not going outside," he added after reading the look on Albus's face.

Albus pouted. "Fine. But can you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Go back around the statue with this."

Scorpius scoffed. "Hell no. I bruised up my abdomen last time. You're up there already. Just go around yourself."

"Thanks," said Albus drily, already stepping over the golden statue of the Hufflepuff badger.

There wasn't much foot real-estate on the sides of the pedestal, which were thinner than the front. Albus managed to step over the raven on the back corner by clinging onto the Architect's left arm for support. He balanced the Cloak between his arms, unsure that he or Scorpius would have a steady enough hand to levitate it behind the statue.

The corner of the wall arced inwards to accommodate the golden monument, but Albus nonetheless had to scrape his back along the wall's edge to protect the phone. The ache in his spine flared up again, and Albus resolved to examine himself in the mirror for bruising later.

Albus needed to face the back of the statue before dismounting, or rather, uncomfortably sliding down the back of the pedestal. He held the Cloak to the back of the pedestal. No dice.

Holding the Cloak up like an offering felt even stupider that time, and Albus was beginning to swallow the heavy indication of a fourth failure. He peeked around the side of the pedestal and drew Scorpius's attention. "What's that spell you cast last time?" Albus asked.

"The Revealing Spell?" Scorpius questioned.

"Yeah."

"It's pronounced ah-pah-race-ee-um." Scorpius pronounced each syllable carefully. "Remember, it's the intent that matters most."

Albus placed the Cloak on the podium and pointed his wand at the back of the statue, thinking about text or symbols appearing on the stone. "Aparecium!" he hissed.

The beige stone before him was just as ordinary as before.

Albus resisted the urge to ball up and scream. "All this way for nothing," Albus mumbled. He stared at the Cloak glumly.

"It was a good try, mate." Scorpius had a sympathetic look on his face.

Albus frowned. Finn was shuffling back towards them at a heightened pace, waving his arms.

"What is it?" Scorpius asked as Finn approached.

"Abbott!" Finn hissed. "He's coming down the hallway!"

"Abbott? Dylan Abbott?"

"Yeah!"

"Alone?" Albus asked.

"No, he's with his three lackeys, but you know that they'd find a way to turn us in," said Finn.

"What are we going to do?" Scorpius's face flushed, the panic in his voice evident. "There's nowhere to go!"

"Behind here!" said Albus. "Climb over the pedestal, it's easier than going around."

Scorpius and Finn hopped up onto the pedestal as Abbott's voice drifted down the corridor. The Gryffindor was failing massively at being subtle, for Albus could hear the faint footsteps of him and his cronies as they moved down the hallway. Abbott was whispering about something that Albus couldn't quite make out. His form came into view after Scorpius and Finn dropped down either side of Albus behind the pedestal.

Abbott's blonde hair looked white in the moonlight that drifted through the windows, and his ever-present smirk of superiority made Albus's blood boil. The four Gryffindors were travelling in a loose diamond formation, walking on the right side of the corridor to keep towards the shadows.

"Why do Gryffindors have so sense of subtlety?" Scorpius asked.

"It's genetic," Albus muttered.

Abbott stopped as he and the other Gryffindors approached the fork in the corridor. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and squinted at it before pointing to his right. The Gryffindors turned and headed down the hallway to the left, quickly disappearing around the corner.

Albus sat in anxious silence until Abbott's hushed voice faded. "That was close," he whispered.

"We are never doing this again!" Scorpius hissed. "Let's get back before someone actually intelligent manages to find us!"

"Um, guys?" Finn probed.

"What, Finn?" Scorpius swiveled his head. "I swear, if it's something about geese—"

"There's writing on the wall," Finn whispered.

Albus whirled around. He could barely feel his ribs scrape against the wall. There was indeed writing, writing that hadn't been on the wall before. He couldn't read it, for the language was in symbols that he couldn't decipher.

"What do they mean?" Albus asked.

"You know better than me," Scorpius mumbled, a pensive expression on his face. "It looks kind of like Norse."

Albus chuckled drily. "D'you know how to read Norse?"

"No."

Albus frowned. "What could it say…"

He studied the wall over like he had earlier that year. The top of the archway came to a point that Albus thought to be structurally inconceivable as a support. That meant it was either decorative or something else entirely. Something about the linework along the raised ribbon of stone seemed familiar, but Albus couldn't quite place it… until it hit him.

"It's not a support," said Albus. "It's a hidden door."

"Excuse me?" Scorpius wore a look of serious derision. "How is it you know that?"

"I'm a wizard." From the looks on his friends' faces, his statement wasn't very convincing. "Look at the arch," Albus instructed. "It's far too thin to support a wall like it normally would, and it looks like the Slytherin common room entrance."

Finn seemed impressed. "When did you become an architect?"

Albus opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. "I… I dunno."

Scorpius nodded to himself. "Well, that's not worrying at all."

"Look, I must have… picked it up somewhere," Albus said, fumbling for an answer. "But that's not important right now! There is something right there, beyond that door, and we need to figure out how to get in."

"That does not sound smart in the slightest," Scorpius retorted. "I've entertained you this far, but this is getting a little ridiculous, Albus."

Albus laughed. "Ridiculous? Scorp, we're—"

"Don't call me that."

"—right on the edge of a discovery here! Doesn't that make you excited?"

"Not particularly," said Scorpius. "In fact, I'd rather like to be in my bed, sleeping like a baby and unconcerned about the mysteries of a castle that, for all intents and purposes, has been fully explored."

"What is wrong with you?" Albus demanded. "What happened to being okay with this?"

"What is wrong with you? This is bloody insane, well within grounds for expulsion, meaning I am not okay with it!"

"Any more synonyms for me?"

"Stupid, senseless, absurd, call it what you will, it's not normal!"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"This!" Scorpius gestured around. "You think you're some kind of hero or, or, detective, who can solve a mystery that never existed! It's unhealthy! You aren't your father!"

That comment stung, and Albus hotly opened his mouth to retort. "Oh yeah? What about you, Malfoy?"

"My father is a great man!" Scorpius snapped. "I dunno what you're trying to prove, because right now the only thing you're proving is that you're a right arsehole."

"Yeah? Well why don't you…" Albus trailed off at the sound of scraping, as quiet as a mouse clawing against a wall.

He turned his head to find that the wall was folding into itself, melting away from the center to reveal a staircase beyond. The steps and the column they spiraled around were made of a white stone marbled with ribbons of grey. Windows to the outside were placed along the outer wall at regular intervals, windows that most definitely couldn't be seen from the outside. The staircase was massive, with each step spanning three meters horizontal.

Finn was standing before the first step, a delighted look on his face as he held the Cloak up in that same ridiculous pose Albus had twice assumed. He turned around, beaming. "Are you done?"

Albus realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it. His tongue felt like sandpaper. "What did you do?"

Finn tilted his head down at the Cloak. "Pressed it to the door."

"Finn, I could kiss you right now."

"Thanks?"

Albus turned to Scorpius awkwardly and offered something between a grimace and a smile.

Scorpius crossed his arms. "Don't insult my father again."

"I won't," Albus promised. His words were genuine. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," said Scorpius softly. He looked forward to the staircase again. "This is wicked."

"Yes, cool, great job ladies, but you know what's less wicked?" Finn prompted, having tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

Albus furrowed his eyebrows and copied him, listening closely and picking up… "Footsteps."

"All your arguing must have gotten someone's attention," said Finn. "Quick, let's go!" Finn whipped around and bounded up the staircase, fully unconcerned for his own safety.

Albus shook his head and followed Finn up the stairs.

Scorpius stood in place. "Are we really doing this?" he asked.

"Rather quick change from 'this is wicked!'" Albus hissed, gesturing for Scorpius to follow him. "Now, come on! D'you want to do the most awesome thing you've ever done in your life or risk your dreaded expulsion?"

If Scorpius could've gotten any paler, he would have. "Alright, I'm coming."

As soon as Scorpius crossed the entryway, the stone began folding inwards. Scorpius jumped away startled, but by the time he could regain his bearings, the wall had settled back into place without any indication it had moved at all.

O

Dylan Abbot rounded the corner from the outside, his posse trailing shortly behind. He was thoroughly confused as he furtively peeked around the corner. "I could have sworn I heard shouting…"

"Yeah?" one of his lackeys asked. "Maybe it was an echo."

"An echo of what?" Abbott snapped.

"Us?" another one offered. "I mean, there's just the doors down there, and it's not like anyone can get out."

"What if it's that statue?" the first one asked. "The thing we need to touch, or whatever."

"Christopher said it was a painting, idiot. Of fruits." Abbott frowned. "I guess it was nothing…"

"What if it was one of the professors?" the second one asked, his voice quiet.

"He told us they don't come to the first floor for… another hour," said Abbott, checking his watch.

The third friend yawned. "Can we go now? I don't see a painting, and it's pretty unwise to stay in case it really was a professor."

Abbott's nostrils flared. "Shut up, Jason. We'll come back tomorrow."

"Maybe try not coming back at all," Jason muttered, trailing behind the other three Gryffindor boys. "This was stupid."

But against his own words, he looked back, not at the corridor, but at that odd golden statue near the doors to the outside. He could have sworn he had seen a head behind it a few minutes earlier…

Attributing his thoughts to a lack of sleep, Jason shook his head and followed the others. Now was no time to be solving mysteries.