Among all the possible, limitless ways to wake up, Harry had to rate this one very highly. He breathed in the smell of Ginny's lavender scented hair feeling more satisfied than he had in weeks. It had been her idea to go looking for the baths in the evening. It had also been her idea to rent three separate rooms. But with the noise they made last night privacy must have been a pretty one-sided thing.

He knew she was awake, even if he wasn't able to spot the hint of a smirk on her lips. He pulled her tight against him, eyes drifting to the idol placed on the windowsill. It was a crude stone carving of a woman with her hands in an 'O' shape on her belly. According to her and everyone she'd asked, it worked perfectly, something that apparently Hermione had confirmed in her reading.

"Morning, love," he whispered into her silken hair.

She hummed pleasantly and turned to face him. "Sleep well?"

"Hard not to," he said with a smirk. "I happen to have spent the night with a very lovely young lady." He kissed her, drawing a long moan from her lips. "That was nice of you, what you did last night."

"You mean shag my husband?"

"He returned the favour. I meant you taking the time and everything, getting the idol. Sorry if I was being pushy for no reason –"

"It wasn't just that, but you're welcome."

Her eyes lowered lustfully, making obvious that she had the intention of 'sleeping in' a while longer. "Thanks for being such a bother," she said, kissing her way down his chest.

Malfoy and Hermione were already downstairs when they decided to get up. Hermione especially shot them a scornful look, which might have bothered him if he didn't have such a lovely awakening. After breakfast, and after John and Eustace announced they would be looking for an advantageous trade, it was just him and Hermione ready to explore Oria. It was already well into morning and the city was plenty busy.

Aside from fruits which were harvested later in the season, there was a large meat market. They asked around to see if there were any wizards, but were met with frowns and negative responses. Even the Mayor didn't seem to have a wizard on retainer. More than once they were redirected to the Order of Cadmus in the city for everything pertaining to magic. But Malfoy was already playing that angle, so they felt a bit aimless.

They'd arrived at the other side of town and settled into a bar for a quick snack and drink.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said exhaustedly. "Does this city not have a single wizard?"

"I think you underestimate how difficult it is to become one," Harry said, picking at his roast pork. "You practically spent three months locked up in a room studying. I know I would've gone mad."

"Maybe you're right," she answered with a sigh. "So you've patched things up with Ginny then?"

He had a hard time trying to read her expression. Something between curiosity and discomfort. He could see why, briefly wincing at the idea of being in the opposite situation. "Yeah, sorry about… I guess some details never really crossed my mind."

"Boys..." she snorted. "Ginny told me, she was worried about the… technical issues."

"Technical issues?" he repeated cheekily.

"Birth control," she said, frowning. "Anyway, she was very relieved when I told her how well documented it was. Now, don't get me wrong I'm a skeptic, but it is surprisingly common knowledge."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence. His bad Auror habits were still well honed as he picked up the conversation two tables away.

"So, you heard? They say there's a bloody paladin in town."

Another man scoffed. "You'll believe anything. Last time you told me you saw a ghoul on your way home."

"Hey, it was bloody dark out there. Never mind that, I heard from my brother-in-law he took out six bandits single-handed. It's all the talk back east."

"Right," the second voice said with sarcasm. "And what would one of the Chosen of Cadmus want with us?"

"See, that's the strange part. They say he's not blessed by Cadmus."

"That's goblin shite. Last Paladin was a follower of Cadmus and the next one 'll be too, and the one after that."

"It's the will of the Gods! Anything's bloody possible. Maybe that's just why he's been called here, y'know with the Order oversteppin' and everything?"

"What the hell are you on about? And don't tell me you're still goin' on about that stupid graverobbin' story."

"Strange coincidence, that's all I'm sayin'."

"You shut your mouth about conspiracies or you'll get us both in trouble. There's nothing happenin', the Mayor said so how many times?"

"The Mayor said..." the first voice responded doubtfully.

He bent closer to Hermione. "Did you catch that?"

She frowned; he clicked his tongue in frustration. It would have been helpful for someone to have witnessed it. Instead he relayed what he just heard in a low whisper.

She seemed very thoughtful about what to say next, which meant he wasn't going to like it.

"Harry, we shouldn't draw conclusions based on a single conversation. Also what does that have to do with why we're here? I thought you didn't like being in your situation."

He glared at her. "Something stinks, Hermione, and I've got more experience trusting my instincts than I did back then."

"I know that!" she snapped back between clenched teeth. "And I also know you have a tendency to see ghosts everywhere. That's not even the point. We're supposed to find Padfoot, not get involved in local politics. I distinctly remember you telling me that in our first week!"

"This is different."

"How?"

He had to give it to her, she had an uncanny ability to unravel his grand ideas thread by thread. He rubbed his face and let out a deep breath. "Fine. You're right, there's no proof bar rumours are connected to what we know. But if it comes up again, it's something to pick at. Something bigger was going on with Erebus, he wasn't a nobody."

"Just don't go barging into something half-cocked, that's all I'm asking."

He nodded with a smile. "I guess we can go looking for a new shield then."

The city had no armouries available to the public or anything like that. They were directed to a blacksmith in the eastern part. The sound of bellows and metal pounding metal became clearer as they approached the shop. A young man was dropping chunks of something into a large iron pot and put it into a bed of coals. He looked in their direction with a sweaty tired face.

"What can I do for you kind sir and madam?"

"I need a new shield. We've been told they don't sell them anywhere but here."

"Good choice coming here, sir," he said with a click of his boots. "But, yes, custom order only I'm afraid. What were you using before?"

"Banded round shield, a bit flimsy in hindsight."

"I'll see if the smith can see you, be back in just a bit," he said, disappearing inside.

"I knew it would be hot, but I didn't expect it to be this bad," Hermione said, wafting her robes. "Can't believe they spend the entire day around here."

A few minutes later, a red-faced, stringy, but well-muscled bald man came out to meet them. It looked like all fat on his body had melted right off from the years working at the forge. "My apprentice Martin tells me ye need a shield," he said, taking off his large leather gloves. "I'm Sutter, pleased to meet ya."

"Harry," he answered, shaking his hand.

"Hermione."

"Well ye've come to the right place. Banded you said. I can make ye a rounder fer hundred fifty silver or so."

"A rounder, that's full metal?"

"I make 'em steel, glad fer our mines down in Dober. Will bend if ye get hit hard enough, but not break. How'd'ya lose yer last one, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It was a troll," Hermione said.

Sutter got quiet all of the sudden. "Down west?"

"On the way from High Coren, why'd you ask?" Harry replied.

The blacksmith let out an empty laugh. "Fergive me if I have trouble believing ya lad, but these parts haven't seen as much as a troll hair fer three decades."

"See?" Hermione pointed out.

"Thanks, we'll keep that in mind," Harry said confusedly. "Er, so the shield. Do you need measurements?"

"Right, of course," Sutter replied.

He went inside to get a piece of string for measurements. They wouldn't need to have the straps made themselves since he had a deal with the leather worker. A few minutes later, they paid ten gold upfront and went on their way. Unsure what else to do, they settled into the Sweetbreeze, where they kept Neilis company. He was understandably well into his cups, his heavy lidded eyes a reflection of how he felt.

Hermione was antsy, sitting on the edge of her chair. He nodded towards her.

"Oh, it's just…" She lowered her voice. "I wanted to get some studying done, I have this burst of inspiration and –"

Harry laughed. "It's fine, I'll stay. I'll call you when the rest are back."

With a kiss to his cheek she hurtled upstairs to her room, Harry leaned back to wait for the others.

"You seem close," Neilis said with a wry smile.

Harry was used to the accusation, or observation depending on where it came from. "I've known her all my life, all I care to remember at least."

Neilis nodded in understanding, hand firmly on his stumpy leg. "There's no way she'll take me now. Marina, she deserves better anyway. A one legged fool."

Harry took a long swig of his cider, remembering a time not too far away when he felt the same. "You're probably wrong about that. Besides, she's carrying your child. Worst thing you can do is run away from that, leg or no leg."

"Hah!" Neilis said, brandishing his cup. "Run away… You're a terrible drinking buddy. You're supposed to agree with me."

The two brothers and John came in a bit later, and talk shifted to potential trades. They were negotiating with several brewers in the city for their casks from last year. In a few months the new cider would be brewed and the older ones would be sold. They were trying to get ahead of that.

Throughout the whole discussion, Harry only felt the distance between those from their world and the few who had come over from his own more clearly. There was a fundamental connection missing. The history, events that had played out in their world, inexorably connecting every single witch and wizard there. Even the ones you did not agree with, or even hated.

He was very relieved to see Ginny enter the Sweetbreeze, swiftly followed by Malfoy. They took a quiet table while he called Hermione so they could talk by themselves. The four of them together, he once again felt at ease. "So, who first?" he asked.

"I will," Malfoy said, leaning forwards.

"They're pretty tight-lipped around here, they're not used to seeing many priests. Most of the real clergy resides in Cadmeum, so I guess my appearance must have put them on guard. The Head Priest back in Cadmeum warned me about it, not that it's much help now. The initiates seem to do most of the heavy lifting, acting as a town guard, maintenance on the temples, some even do mass and burials. There's a Cleric in town, but he was apparently busy. Maybe I can get an audience, but I have no idea when."

"Wait," Harry said, "what was that you said? The initiates handle burials?"

"Right, because there's so little clergy here they have to."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who shook her head.

"Anyway, that's all I have for now," Malfoy finished.

"You're up, Gin."

"The guy who runs the Guild down here is called Baskwer, one of three 'families' in Leptor. The Guild down here used to be heavy in arms dealing during the Troll Wars, that's how they made their money. Anyway, things have started to heat up with the Order. I don't know too many details but they've been trying to monopolize weapon smithing for the past few years. They say things are looking bad, tensions have been mounting.

"I asked about Padfoot, but no one seems to know anything. I have some jobs lined up that might get me some clout here. Nothing bad, running courier, stuff like that." She looked at Harry intently. "But I won't be too busy."

He smiled generously in return. "Well, I got my shield commissioned. It will run us fifteen gold. Look, the way things are going, I don't think we'll be able to see John and his family back. And I don't feel right sending them back without an escort."

Seeing as they were all in agreement, he continued. "Maybe we could 'fund' them a little. Give them enough so they can hire some guards up to High Coren. Knowing them, the money will be waiting for us in Cadmeum. Doesn't cost us anything in the long run except risk."

"Sounds good," Ginny answered.

Two days later they still weren't any closer to finding anything relating to 'Padfoot'. Hermione was busy studying most of the time and aside from just exploring town, Harry had taken on the task of vetting the guards John was going to hire. He wasn't all that confident in being able to accurately judge someone's fighting potential, but he could at least weed out the cowards and crooks. It was basically what he did in Auror trainee preselection anyway.

They left around noon that day, with three men who were rather well armed. Two were carrying large two handed swords and one a long spear. Luckily they were in a hurry to get back to Cadmeum and settled for three gold per man per day, coming up on twenty-seven total. Late morning, he said goodbye to the group, Neilis waving awkwardly from on top of the many casks they'd packed onto the horse-drawn cart.

He thought about checking progress on his shield, more out of aimlessness than anything. During his walks he would always be on the lookout, for anything out of place. There definitely was an air about the town that left him with a familiar feeling of unease. Turned heads, whispered warnings, eyes kept firmly ahead afraid of what they might see. And the Initiates keeping a silent watchful eye on everything.

Turning a bend to the east side of town he noticed something that made him slow his pace. A man probably in his forties was paddling haggardly through the streets. Not homeless, as his clean clothes betrayed, but treated similarly like a leper by anyone else walking by. A mark, for anyone else if he didn't get there first. This was the kind of anomaly you'd look for on the streets of Diagon and Knockturn.

Casually, he walked up to the man and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry there, mate. I'm a bit new in town, know any good watering holes? I'll buy you a drink."

"Who are you?" the man said with a tired, raspy voice.

"Something happened, didn't it?" he said back in a whisper. "I've just been trying to figure out if anything fishy is going on. You understand?"

The man's breath caught and his eyes went wide with horror for a brief instant. He swallowed a parched throat and nodded slowly. "Taverns are crowded, I have a small home in the southern part of town."

Instantly the man picked up his pace, seemingly in a hurry to get there. Harry followed, with no option but to trust his instincts that the man had seemed isolated. The house they arrived at was nothing special, strangely reminiscent of Hagrid's hut if a little less cozy and chaotic. A large brass key opened the door and they stepped inside.

"Go ahead, close the door."

He did.

The man sat down on the cot and fixed Harry with cold anger. "What are you waiting for? You have me by myself, not a soul saw us walk in."

Harry tensed up. "Who do you think I am?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the man scoffed. "Even without your robes you still look like a killer."

The man looked resigned to his fate, whatever he thought that fate was. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint," he replied. "Why don't you pretend I'm not here to hurt you. Doesn't seem like you have anything to lose."

Disappointment in his eyes, the man went over to a dusty barrel and drained off two flagons of golden liquid. He placed one on a rickety small table and drank from his. "I'm Silenus, a woodworker by trade. And pray tell if not a dog of the Order, who do I have the pleasure of welcoming into my house?"

"I'm Harry," he said, extending a hand, "Paladin of Licht."

"The Divine… come to Oria," Silenus mumbled. He gasped as his eyes landed on the pommel of Harry's sword. "So the rumours are true?"

"Tell me."

"Yes," he said, taking another long gulp of the cider. "My son. He never took to woodworking as I did. I know the hunters just outside of town, good folks, my late wife's people. She – she died in childbirth, bless her. He got quite skilled with bow and trap. Always had a share of partridges or a cut of game for his old father. He – got hurt."

Tears formed in the man's red eyes; he fought heavily to keep his composure. "It was nothing too serious, a branch pierced his leg while tracking deer. But of course, I was worried, I had to... I brought him to the Order, they have a small temple for the wounded and the sick. That was nine days ago. The next day I came to visit him. They told me he died during the night."

Silenus fixed Harry, jaw trembling with emotion. "They never let me see him. All I ever saw was a casket. I tried to… see my son, see my son one last time. They beat me," he said lifting his shirt to reveal bruised ribs, "for my insolence. Now, for days, no sleep, no one would listen… All I can keep thinking about is if that was really my son they buried down there."

"I'm no fool, Paladin," the man said, taking Harry's hands. "I know my son is dead, I can feel the pain in my bones. Do you believe me?"

Harry nodded, ignoring the image of Hermione berating him. "I need to talk to my friends. In the meantime, if anything comes up, leave a message at the Sweetbreeze. And if you could, please keep my identity quiet."

Silenus finally broke down, slumping between his legs with cries of sadness and hopeful gratitude. "Thank the Gods. Thank Licht for sending you to me. Please, please find justice for my son..."

Harry left the hut with purpose but standing on shaky ground. This time he didn't have a team of dedicated Aurors who by default valued his insights, nor did he have the skill and power to back up his motivation. He knew as he imagined the conversation play out in his head that he would have to concede to a more passive approach, as much as it ate at him.

He was barely a foot into the Sweetbreeze when he was run down by a bushy-haired-high-speed-leg-and-arm-train knocking the wind out of him.

"I did it! Harry, I did it! I was so worried the geometrical calculations weren't correct, or that the incantations would be off slightly – pronunciation is so important, not to mention the mental patterns involved in the spell. I should have known the missing piece had to be leather, cured leather, I got Malfoy to bless it this morning. I kept wondering if I could use a sturdier material to improve it and really all it needed was to borrow some divine power to facilitate the –"

"Hermione, slow down," Harry said amusedly. "Again, in human language now, please?"

"Oh, Harry, I did it! My new spell," she said, dragging him upstairs.

Up in her room, she took a leather strap from around her waist and started her incantation. Harry hurriedly moved behind her. There was a flash of something blue and a low hum. He kept on guard for an explosion or something similar, but nothing came.

"Uh? Is it done?"

"Yes!" she said, turning to him with a bright smile. "What do you think?"

"Hmm." He really couldn't spot a difference, but girls tended to be like that, the smallest change in appearance would end up being a huge deal. "Something with your hair?"

"My hair?" she said, patting the mass of airy brown locks on her head. "No, there's nothing wrong with my hair, is there?"

"No, no, it's fine. Sorry, I really can't tell."

"My armour."

Harry frowned and patted her arm. "You're not wearing any."

"Obviously I'm not, it would interfere with my magic. Honestly, Harry, it's a spell. It only works if I get hit by something."

"Right," Harry uttered. "Are you sure you got enough sleep?"

"Oh, you don't believe me? Hit me then!" she said, defiantly puffing her chest up.

"That's crazy," he chuckled. "I'm not going to hit you."

"Because you can't."

"Are you serious? You know Aurors get hand-to-hand combat training now."

"Oh! Big Auror Harry, getting all the amazing combat training!" she goaded dramatically.

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes!"

"Absolutely, completely –"

"Yes, Harry! Will you stop being such a wimp and – OW!"

Harry grimaced as he watched Hermione recoil at his jab. It had been completely on impulse. "Sorry, are you all right?"

"You hit me!"

"Well..." He was flabbergasted for a moment. "You asked me to. Does it hurt much?"

"It stings," she said irritably, holding up a hand to her eye.

Letting out a deep breath, he went over to inspect the damage. "Looks a bit darker, but nothing permanent I can see."

She had a guilty look on her face and a frustrated pout.

"Sorry I hit you," he said.

"No," she said with a sigh. "I think it's been an eye-opener, that I just can't rely on it too much. But it does work, I'm sure of it. Thank you."

"I don't think I've ever been thanked for punching someone," Harry said.

She was in a surprisingly good mood for just being given a black eye. He offered a heal, but she vehemently refused, presumably taking this all as one grand character building experience. Aside from the fact that he'd obviously caused her some amount of pain, he also didn't want to face the awkwardness and potential disaster of having to explain it. However as Malfoy strode in, she had it all figured out.

"You were in a bar fight?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

"Yes," she said smugly, "but it's all fine, because I won."

"Yeah, you should see the other guy," Harry said, trying his darnedest not to roll his eyes. "Listen, I met this man on my way back from the smith, it goes into what we talked about the other time," he said looking towards Hermione.

"That again?"

Harry looked around and lowered his voice. "A witness. Bloke who lost his son, brought him into one of the temples in the city with a leg wound. Next thing he knows they're telling him he's being buried. Got beat up for asking too many questions."

"Could just be a coincidence," she said, unconvinced of her own words.

Malfoy stirred uncomfortably. "They won't let outsiders into the Temple of Healing," he said with an awkward glance. "And if there's any truth to what you're implying, I'm with you to uncover it. I hear things, from the Acolytes. They're men and women of the cloth, but they're being passed up in their duties for the Initiates time and time again. And this is by the orders of Cleric Baiu."

A dour silence settled on their table. It was slightly pathetic that it was once again Hermione, looking like she did, who took his hand in a comforting gesture. After a moment of scattered idle talk and a plate of roasted venison and bread, Ginny walked in looking more alert than ever.

They all patiently waited until the barmaid brought over her tankard of cider. She took a deep breath.

"I found Padfoot."

There was a simultaneous clattering of chairs trying to get closer to the table, breathlessly waiting for her to go on. She took a gulp of the refreshing drink and went on.

"I got chummy with a few of the smugglers who use a cove in the south to move their goods. Three weeks ago they stumbled on a cave, just south-east of here. They raided the camp around there for spoils but didn't find much except some rations and a letter, it mentioned Padfoot. That's all they remembered. Unfortunately they didn't keep it, but they gave me a rough location of the spot. According to them it might have something to do with the Order moving weapons from Oria."

As she finished, her eyes settled on Hermione. "What happened to you?"

Harry, who glanced to his right saw her smugly grin back at him. "She got in a bar fight," he lied. "She won though."

"This is all moving forward rather quickly," Malfoy said. "What about your witness?"

"I'll tell him we'll be gone for a while. Hopefully him staying put will be good enough."

The next day, his shield was done. They were all a bit antsy at getting out on the road again, or in this case, off it for a decent stretch, in order to find the hideout of this 'Padfoot'. Or whatever it was. Harry had serious doubts about the link to their world by now. Instead, having shifted focus on whatever was being kept in the dark in Oria.

It was good Malfoy was on board, it reinforced Harry's conviction that he could be trusted, at least as far as this world went.

By late morning, they set out for what they estimated was about a day long trip, although the map wasn't accurate enough to make sure. None of them wanted to spend another night in the wilds if they could help it. The road east went for a short length until they found the trail to the south, more a lack of plant life than an actual road.

It was noon when they arrived at the last stretch of the path leading to the disused iron mines. They broke for lunch with fresh water from a spring they passed earlier and cured meat.

"How are you?" he asked Ginny.

"Okay, but you mean..."

"Just. I mean really, we're no closer to an answer."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I think I'm ready to make the best of it," she said with a smile. "But no promises, I might still get crabby from time to time. Did Hermione really get in a bar fight?"

He was caught off-guard by the question. Ginny had a good instinct for spotting his bullshit. "No, but it was pretty embarrassing what happened, for both of us."

When he was finished telling her, she looked a him disappointedly. "I can't believe you hit her."

"It was just – I don't know what I was thinking, and I feel terrible about it. She wouldn't even let me heal it."

Any chance of a peaceful journey was obliterated a few miles further when they heard gargled shouting in a strange language in the distance. They dipped in a ditch behind a dead tree. There wasn't much cover to sneak up on anyone, so Harry strapped his new rounder to his arm, ready for battle.

There was more shouting, from two voices arguing back and forth.

"Goblins?" Hermione whispered.

Harry had no idea, the woods near Cadmeum were as safe as it gets.

Ginny furtively looked over the lip of the ditch, hood on her head. "Five of them," she said, dipping back down. "They look bigger than those you killed. Plus two really big wolves."

As if on cue they heard snarling ahead.

"Dammit!" Harry spat. "They'll sniff us out won't they?"

"So we fight," Hermione said assuredly. "Malfoy blesses us, then I go in and take out as many as I can. Then you follow."

Hermione on the warpath, he both hated and loved to see it. They nodded in agreement. Malfoy cast his blessing and Hermione grabbed something out of a pouch. He felt his determination rise as she crested the mound and uttered her spell. Shouts of alarm and loud howls were heard; he jumped up into the fray.

He saw the tail end of a flash and two creatures plus one of the wolves on the ground. The second beast, something looking bigger and more feral than even a werewolf bounded on her. His heart clenched as he sprinted forward, but true to what she said, her spell did work. It bit uselessly at a shining blue shimmer around her and landed next to her. Harry brought his sword down on its neck, the fury of Licht behind his blow.

It fell limp to the ground instantly.

They were bigger, larger than men, much more imposing than the freakish creatures they encountered in the woods north of here. No improvised spears were in their hands, instead two were holding jagged polearms tipped with steel and one a large sword. Even with half their comrades down, they looked ready and organized. Born warriors.

Malfoy advanced in tandem with him to meet the group. The warrior before him snarled and banged his polearm on his shield, his blood red garments flapping menacingly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy barely dodge a blow. He was too caught up in his opponent to pay much attention further. Feints, attention to footing. Sidestepping a thrust, he went in for an overhand swipe, but it was dodged.

He had no idea how much time passed, every second feeling like an eternity. His shield was doing good work blocking the blows. A flash of darts made of light erupted to his left, startling his opponent. Harry took the opening and jabbed his sword in an upward motion behind the shield. Eyes popped out of the creature as the blade sliced up through its lower jaw, into its brain.

Taking in his surroundings, he saw Ginny shove two daggers deep into the kidneys of the third one. It screamed in agony and almost toppled onto Malfoy.

"Anyone hurt?" he panted.

"Fine for now," Malfoy grunted.

"They're going to wake up, aren't they?" Ginny said, motioning towards the three unconscious ones.

"Ginny, quickly," he said, moving over to one of them and holding his sword to its neck.

"You're just going to kill them?" Hermione gasped.

"They're evil creatures, Hermione. Hobgoblins, right? Besides, we don't have the means to keep them captive."

"He's right," Malfoy said through heavy breathing, "Let them live and they'll just try to kill us again, or someone else."

Without more words to spare on the unfortunate goblinoids, their blood was spilt on the dry hillscape. Hermione didn't look happy about it. Usually her boundless compassion for all creatures would be a good thing. She'd just have to get over it.

Malfoy had taken a blow to the side, a cut through his robes revealing a shallow wound leaking blood.

"Stand still," Harry said, pressing a hand to it. "There."

"Thanks," Malfoy said, inspecting the closed wound.

Ginny was bent over one of the creatures.

"What are you doing?"

"They have money," she shouted back. "A few silver, but we might as well."

"You think there's more around?" he said, drawing Hermione's attention.

"They tend to live underground," she said, shaking her head. "Could be a hunting party, I don't know."

They kept moving, they were supposed to be close. Some time later as if the woods had been carved to show it to them, a rocky outcropping leading into a hill came into view. They knelt down behind some arid shrubbery. "Has to be it, right?" Ginny said.

"Maybe," Hermione answered. "The map isn't perfect and it's difficult to follow."

"Only one way to know," Ginny answered, and slunk between the bushes to the front of the cave.

Harry's heart seized up when she entered sliding along the wall. It felt like an eternity. Eventually she came back out, her catlike eyes looking left and right before jogging to them with her head down.

"There's something – or someone inside. I'm not sure, I didn't stick around to find out. But it seems unguarded. Also..." She grimaced. "It smells terrible down there."

Harry nodded and stepped towards the cave. "I'll be ahead, follow behind."

From the entrance he could smell it, that familiar overwhelming odour. Death and decay, the remnant of it. It was the kind of smell that never really left, no matter how much you scourgified. Ahead was a dead end. He lit a torch with his tinderbox before he went further, wondering how in hell Ginny had navigated the cave blind.

A corridor, roughly hewn, extended to the right. The others were behind him single file, a bad spot to be caught in if they were attacked. So he went carefully. Drops of water dripped from the ceiling, sizzling on the torch's flames. He entered a larger chamber, and it became instantly clear what the decay had been. Bones, reddish-pink scattered on the floor, too large to belong to a small mammal. Harry recognized the torture rack. The Ministry had a collection of instruments as relics from a darker time, some muggle, some magical.

It felt too empty. The passage continued into the back wall. He heard a faint something like sobbing or whimpering. His grip tightened on his blade and he moved forward, all too aware of the scraping of his boots on the wet stone floor. The next room didn't seem very large. Flames flickered on its unpolished surface. The whimpering became clearer. Male, probably.

Harry shone the torch inside to find bars tethered to the stone. Inside was a male figure in tattered clothes, shivering. Slowly, he approached the bars and saw the scraggly and dirty mop of hair shake.

"A captive," he called back. "He could know something. Gin?"

She came forward, opened a box of lockpicking tools, and started working on the large padlock holding the barred door.

"Poor guy," she whispered. "I wonder how long he's been in here."

"Doesn't seem to be starving," Harry said. "But it's cold in here, he could have hypothermia."

"Done!" Ginny exclaimed proudly. She stepped inside.

"Be careful."

She hummed in reply and carefully put a hand under the prisoner's torso, turning him over. She recoiled instantly, a cry of surprise escaping her.

"Gin? What –"

Harry had trouble taking in what he was seeing. An illusion, it had to be. He moved closer and shone the light right above the man; there was no mistake about it, he'd never forget that face.

"Ron?" he said, his throat feeling impossibly dry.