It was difficult sneaking out of Honeydukes at seven in the evening, one false move and the alarms would have gone off, but I managed it. The hood of my midnight blue cloak was up, throwing my face into shadow, no one troubled me as I swept down the cobbled streets. I looked too intimidating- or shifty- to be asked for directions. Finally I reached the train station, this was the closest place to the village which allowed apparation. Hogsmeade did not allow people to apparate straight into the high street.
I felt the familiar squeeze of apparation for just a moment before my feet touched down on rocky ground.
I was almost blown over on my unsteady legs as I landed, the wind rolling of the seas was bracing.
I could just see the shore of the island through the gloom, but I could not get to the island by apparation, that I could feel in the air and I was not foolish enough to try.
I've left the oven on.
I shook my head to clear the thought.
No, I shall continue. I do not even own an oven.
It was with some satisfaction that I noticed my mind was strong enough to push through the delusion.
There was no doubt that a very powerful wizard or witch had something worth protecting off the coast and they had taken precautions to ensure it was not stumbled upon by accident.
I watched the sea, it was choppy, but hardly a raging storm. Regarding the dark, low clouds I was glad I had brought my best cloak. Slowly I walked down toward the shore, measuring every step.
When I reached the beach I withdrew my wand, transfiguring a bough of driftwood into a small wooden rowing boat. I levitated the vessel to the waterline and stepped in without getting my boots wet.
Charming the oars to row for me, I sat and patiently waited for the journey to end.
After what seemed like hours, I stepped off the rocking boat and onto the fine sand of the beach. It was very dark now, I could hardly see my hand in front of my face.
"Lumos maxima!" I shouted, sending a flash of brilliant white light into the sky. The silhouette of something tall to the north flashed into vision. I started to walk across the lush knolls of grassland, carefully placing my feet so not to break an ankle.
There was nothing separating the tower from the wildness around it. It was if the tall, circular tower had grown up naturally from the earth. I felt around for the door, it was out of proportion – too narrow. I lit my wand.
Aperi solum si quæritis illuminatio, heres meus
"Open only if you seek enlightenment, my heir," I whispered, but it was lost to the wind.
I felt drawn to the building, there was no way I could turn back now. The attraction was too strong. Without hesitation I clasped the knocker, only to release it and let out a cry of pain.
I turned my hand over; a slash of charred flesh marred my palm. The handle had not seemed hot at all, yet my skin had curled and blackened like a newspaper in the hearth, exposing angry red, weeping flesh. Gritting my teeth to keep myself from screaming I pulled my wand out once again.
I heard the door click open, and hesitated in casting a healing charm.
The pain had dissipated almost as quickly as it had come. I looked up at my hand and then down at my hand.
The burn had completely disappeared.
I studied my hand as I bent and flexed each of my fingers- it was as if it had never happened.
Taking that as a positive sign, I cautiously stepped forward into the dark building, wand outstretched and lit.
The first thing I did was light the fireplace, to throw some light on the subject. It was a simple reception room, with a coat rack and place to store boots. A staircase ran around the curved outer wall.
This was obviously not Ravenclaw's main house, she would have had a manor somewhere no doubt. It was more of a retreat, to get away from the bustle of normal life- her cabin in the country perhaps.
I climbed up eight flights of stairs, first a living room, a library spanning two floors, a master bedroom, a bathroom, a study and a room which was a cross between an observatory and a living room.
In the latter were shelves full of instruments I did not recognise. I lowered myself into the winged arm chair in the centre of the room and watched the intermittent shafts of moonlight breaking through the clouds and dancing upon the waves.
Nice enough, but hardly enlightening.
Just as the thought came, I felt my eyelids become heavy. I blinked and tried to shake off the drowsiness but it was unavoidable. My eyelids were made of lead. It was quite unlike falling asleep, naturally or with the help of a draught. I could not find the will to fight it. It was warm, inviting.
I sunk into the abyss and it was just as wonderful as it had promised.
My consciousness swam through burning stars.
"I knew you would find the book I left," came a voice, it was low but feminine, full of warmth and wisdom. I opened my eyes and found myself in the top room of the tower, but instead of being sat in the chair, I was sat on the floor, legs curled beneath me.
It felt cold after the warmth of the dream.
In the chair, sat with indescribable elegance was a woman with raven, straight hair, bright blue eyes and strong features. The power rolled off her in waves, I was humbled by her presence. Almost to the point I could not look her in the eye. It was like being in the presence of a goddess.
"You, you, left the book," I stammered.
"I leave you many things child," she replied, a Scottish lilt rolling from her tongue.
"Like in my room at Hogwarts?"
"I had hoped that it would be of use to you someday. When I was a teacher, it was my quarters. As head of house I always liked to be on hand to my students, only ever a staircase away. "
"I learnt a lot, thank you."
"Not nearly enough," she said, her voice stern.
I was silent, like a reprimanded child. Her eyes were hard, her expression unyielding.
"I can see into your mind and even I could not imagine a more suitable foundation for an heir." I glowed with pride. "But you have a lot to learn still."
"I have my whole life to learn ma'am, do not judge me too harshly."
"Do not misunderstand me, for any normal child you would a prodigy. But you are not normal Poppy, you are very, very special." I looked to the ground. "Your past has led you to this time, and it is your true self. I know you never felt contented, when you were younger. Some things just seemed wrong."
"How do you know that?"
"I was a high priestess of what you call the old faith," she said wistfully. "It saddens me to my very core to see it in ruins now, but perhaps it is saved by your decision to visit some of those who remain. Priestesses immerse themselves in prophecy and the magic of nature. Sorcery if you will. There will be many prophecies regarding you, but they might not know exactly which ones. Your middle name tells me that magic agrees, destiny is ingrained deep within you, in your very soul. I am satisfied to meet with such a powerful heir."
"But Salazar Slytherin, his true heir is alive today. He is more powerful than me."
"I wouldn't believe that if I were you child, your strengths lie in different places, he will no doubt grow to be better at you in the mind arts. Take Salazar for instance, I created occlumency and many of the arts which sprang from it, yet he mastered them with ease. By the end of his life he could practically read my mind like pages of a book."
"The mind is not so easily read," I protested, without thinking.
"That is a sentiment not shared by those who knew Salazar Slytherin, however do not fear. Tom Riddle would be no match for my old colleague," she said, her voice slow and calming.
"I think that Tom underwent some sort of ritual, once he found out he was the heir of Slytherin," I said, biting my lip. "He seems more powerful, more regal almost."
"Do not underestimate what the power of self-belief will do to someone's countenance and magic, but yes, if Salazar was anything like me, he would wish to share a little of his power with his heir, even after his own life," she replied.
"What do you mean, like you?" I asked. Rowena extended an elegant arm.
"Do you think you are here for no reason? For what purpose I am appearing to you as this apparition?" she asked, lips upturned into a smirk. It looked strange on such a stony face. "These marks in the floor, the view of the stars, the perfect circle we sit in."
"All characteristic of rituals from the old faith," I murmured. Were they there before? Or had I not noticed them?
"Correct," Rowena said with a smile. "It is likely your Tom underwent a similar process, but being brought up in an orphanage with muggles, he would not recognise it for what it truly was, perhaps. Besides, if there was one thing I could best dear Salazar at it, it was rituals. He could never become highly ordained, for he was man. But he followed the teachings diligently."
"What are you going to do to me?" I asked eagerly, adrenaline and sheer curiosity quashing any apprehension.
"You will learn in time child, now close your eyes," her instruction was deep and inviting. I felt my eyes drift closed and the sensation of falling forwards onto the cold, hard stone.
"You may wish to see what is happening in your absence."
Magic permeated my skin, tendrils reaching for my heart and into my consciousness.
Suddenly panic burnt in my throat. It felt wrong, very wrong to be here.
"Leave this place," the voice was a hiss, but a command nonetheless.
It must have been dark magic.
Albus Dumbledore rushed into the dimly lit hospital wing; the headmaster turned and gave him a grave look. Professor Sprout was weeping into a handkerchief and the matron was muttering spells under her breath.
"What is going on?" he asked, none of his company noting his nightcap or deep purple dressing gown. He looked to the bed and gasped.
"Do not tell me that is Jason Pentworth," he breathed, his eyes wide with shock as he surveyed the fifth year.
"He was on his way to the library, an unfinished potions essay in his hand, it seems he was on his way to finish it at the last minute," the headmaster replied sombrely. "Charlus Potter found him, we've sent him to bed with a dreamless sleep draught. " He gestured to the bed next to them. "He was quite distraught."
"I did not know it was Charlus' patrol tonight," Dumbledore muttered.
"Albus!" Pomona screeched through her sodden handkerchief. Professor Dippet patted her back sympathetically and shot Dumbledore a disapproving look.
"My apologies," he corrected. "Do we know what has happened?"
"It would seem that they have been petrified," the headmaster replied. "What is your verdict Albus?" The transfiguration teacher nodded.
"Goodness knows what has caused it, no student would have had the knowledge. I doubt half of the teachers would have even had the power to do this kind of dark magic."
"Mandrake draught," Albus said thoughtfully, looking to Pomona, who nodded.
"I will start first thing in the morning, it will take about a month before Horace's work can start," she replied, pulling herself together.
"Pomona, go and wake the rest of Hufflepuff, check everyone is present and inform them of their housemate's condition," Professor Dippet ordered.
"Horace and Fillius are searching the castle," he continued. "And then they will do the same."
"I will rouse the Gryffindors," Dumbledore said. "All students are to remain in their common rooms?"
"Indeed," he replied. "When we have completed our search of the castle. We shall meet in the great hall for a staff meeting."
"Headmaster!" came a shout, and the rapid footsteps on the cold, hard flagstones of the great hall. It was almost four in the morning but all of the teachers were up, most of them in the great hall.
"What is it Fillius?" Dippet asked, brow furrowed at the concern on the professors face.
"All of my students are not accounted for headmaster, I have one missing," he gasped, clutching his heart and breathing heavily.
"Which one?" he demanded.
"Black, Poppy Black."
The colour drained from Dippet's face.
The door to the Slytherin common room opened and Cassie jumped up, she was sat nearest the opening, wand drawn. She smiled when her niece walked in.
"Rory," she sighed in relief, adjusting her silken robe and long nightgown as she walked to her. "I mean, what brings you down here Professor Sinstra, are you alright? You look pale."
She did indeed look stricken and drawn as if she was about to faint. The rest of the Slytherin common room looked up.
"Poppy is missing," she said in a hoarse whisper.
There was stunned silence.
"What do you mean she is missing?" Cassie asked in barely more than a whisper.
"We have searched the whole castle," she elaborated.
"And what about the grounds?" she demanded, hands on hips and stern voice hardly disguising her worry.
"The professors do not wish to search until daylight," she whispered. "It is too dangerous they say." Cassie looked pensive for a moment.
"Bollocks! Daylight? She could have frozen to death by then," Abraxas shouted, standing up in his rage. He shared a pointed look with the head girl.
"I'm sorry Rory, I'm saving your job by doing this," Cassie said, raising her wand. "Petrificus totalus!"
Cassie turned, for she was in battle mode. She looked to the rest of the common room.
"Fifth year and above, are any of you coming with me? I am going to look for my cousin and be damned if I will let any professor tell me to wait until morning, when she could be dead," she questioned, looking each person in the eye, challenging them. "Rise."
Abraxas, who was already standing, stepped forward, taking Cassie's side.
Each of the Blacks, naturally stood, not a second behind them, was Raimond, Avery, Rosier and Tom. Elena Greengrass too stood, giving Avery a piercing look when he told her to sit down.
Cassie noted how stricken Tom in particular looked; his eyes were rimmed with red and staring at the floor. But her attention was soon taken by Walburga, who she barked at to sit down.
For once she did not argue.
"Summon your cloaks, we leave now. Wands out at all times."