Book 1 - Gorgon's Gaze

Chapter 1 – Rollercoaster and Riddles

As she stepped out onto the hearth and into the sitting room, Beverly Carter suddenly had the impression that a small dark missile had launched itself at her.

"Mummy!" it screamed excitedly, as it collided with surprising force considering its size.

Beverly recovered quickly and hugged her daughter, whose face gazed up at her adoringly through copious tangled hair. "Lindsay!"

"Hi Mum," came another voice, and Beverly looked up to see her elder child, Scott, smiling brightly at her. "I thought you wouldn't be getting off work for a few more hours?"

"Turns out the stadium was quicker to disassemble than they thought, though Matt Turner tried to keep me to rub Canada's win in my face. Almost threatened to have him dismissed from the committee."

Beverly worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, as Permanent Delegate to the International Confederation of Wizards. She wasn't sure if her children knew precisely what her job title was, however, as their eyes seemed to glaze over whenever she tried to explain it to them. To them it meant that their mother was often overseas one moment, and hopefully back in North Yorkshire before dinner.

Beverly looked at the coffee table – behind which sat Scott – and the mess of paper and pencils arrayed across it.

"So what have you two been up to?"

"We were drawing the Scottish and Canadian teams, Lindy drew the Scots and I-"

"Drawed the Canadians 'cause you wanted to draw their Seeker," Lindsay interrupted impishly.

"Lindy!" Scott cried indignantly, his complexion shifting drastically – aged Chardonnay gold to deep Sangiovese.

"It's true! He fancies her!" Lindsay announced. "Scott fancies Leblanc! Scott fancies Leblanc!" she sang.

Scott stood up furiously, towering over his sister, attempting to yell over her loud voice. "I do not!"

His face only coloured further, exposing the attempt as the blatant lie that it was. Beverly decided to end the argument there, as Scott looked as if he was about to throw the eraser he was holding, and she knew for a fact that his aim was good enough to hurt.

"That's enough, you two! Lindsay Carter, you know better than to tease your brother! And Scott..."

He looked at her mutinously, expecting to be told off for nothing.

"That's a very nice drawing," she said, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm sure Ms. Leblanc would be very flattered".

Lindsay giggled, and Scott rolled his eyes, although she could see he was smiling again.

Beverly glanced at the family clock, which was enchanted to track the locations and movements of the entire family. Where there were normally numbers, were instead words such as 'travelling', 'on holiday', and where the twelve normally sat was occupied by 'mortal peril'.

Each family member had a hand with their name on it. The hands labelled 'Beverly', 'Scott', and 'Lindsay' all pointed to 'home', while the fourth hand, labelled 'Nathan', was still affixed to 'work'.

"Hey Mum?" Scott said in askance.

She turned to look at him. "Yes?"

"Since tomorrow's weekend and you don't have work, could we go to Diagon Alley and get my school stuff?"

"Can I go to Demelza's house tomorrow please, Mum?" Lindsay asked.

"Yes, of course you can go, sweetie. And Scott, that's a good idea, I was thinking we ought to soon. You start in a week, and you can't go off and study magic without a wand, can you?"

Scott shrugged as if to say 'no big deal'. "Not unless I use wandless magic".

"I don't doubt you'd be able to. That incident before the holidays nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy into a million bits," Beverly said sternly.

Scott looked outraged. "Darren Gilkes said he saw me kiss Caitlin Bennett behind the gymnasium! How was I supposed to react!?"

"Did you kiss Caitlin Bennett behind the gymnasium?"

"Irrelevant."

Scott was saved further humiliation by Lindsay screaming in excitement, "Daddy's coming!"

She was right. The clock-hand labelled 'Nathan' had flicked to 'travelling', and at the precise moment that it flicked to 'home', the fireplace erupted with green flame. Lindsay did her best impression of a bludger again, though her father managed to keep his balance better than her mother had.

Nathan was a very tall and solidly built man, clean-shaven, with cropped golden-brown hair. His complexion was far lighter than his wife's, and at present he was looking quite cheerful.

"How was everyone's day?" he asked.

"Good," said Scott.

"Good," echoed Lindsay, muffled slightly as her face was buried in Nathan's side.

"I heard you've managed to get rid of the stadium already," he directed at his wife.

Beverly stepped forward and planted a kiss on his lips. "Never miss a trick, do you?"

"Mum, Dad, no PDA in front of us!" Scott squawked, making shooing motions with his hands.

Beverly smirked, muttering, "I'm sure Darren Gilkes said much the same to you and Caitlin Bennett."

"Mum!"

"Caitlin Who-now?" Nathan asked, looking curiously between them.

Lindsay, seeing her mum stoop to her level, took her opportunity to add her two knuts. "He just wishes it was him and Leblanc."

"Leblanc?" Nathan chortled, while Lindsay grinned evilly.

Scott later swore that he hadn't meant to fling the eraser at his sister's nose; his magic had simply reacted that way. This was, of course, a lie, as both he and Beverly well knew by his sudden cherry complexion, making Pinocchio's nose look discrete by comparison.

The following morning the family busied themselves getting ready for their respective days out. Once they were finished, they gathered in the lavish sitting room to pass the time before setting off. Beverly flicked through the Daily Prophet newspaper, while Scott repeatedly read through his Hogwarts equipment list. Lindsay was deep in an animated discussion with her father, recounting what she and Demelza Robins had done the other day.

"And then Demelza and I ate Fizzing Whizbees –"

"Did you see what Lamont said about the Snitch he missed, dear?"

"Hmm?" Nathan looked up from his daughter, looking faintly relieved at not having to feign interest in a story he'd heard repeated three times already. Of course, he wasn't nearly as invested in Quidditch as the rest of his family, though he'd picked up some degree of passion in recent years.

"Apparently, he blames his father's genes," Beverly said. "Made his fingers too short, he says."

Nathan snorted in derision.

"–And when Ms. Robins saw us floating away she started screaming because she's a Muggle, and then–"

He checked his watch and stood. "Well, I ought to head off now. Saul wanted to speak with me about something this morning, and I hate to keep the man waiting."

"No, don't go yet! You're always at work!" Lindsay cried.

"Your father's Head of Department, sweetie. He's got to be at work more now."

If Beverly was honest with herself, she much preferred her husband's current schedule compared to the one he'd been stuck with in the war, nearly a decade prior. She remembered vividly waking to him leaping out of bed, and throwing his robes on every few nights.

"Urgent call," was what he had always said, leaving her with a kiss and a look of barely concealed anxiety.

He left her now with a much more passionate kiss goodbye, though ruined slightly by the retching sounds from Scott's direction.

After he had left, she sent Lindsay on through to the Robins' residence. Once she had disappeared in a whirl of flame she turned to Scott.

"So, hon, got your list?"

He waved it lazily in affirmation.

"Good. Want to go first?"

He evidently did. He confidently stepped forward, taking a handful of Floo Powder from the pot on the mantle. After throwing it into the fireplace (green flames burst into life) he stooped over and stepped in. Then he called clearly, "The Leaky Cauldron!"

Scott stepped out of the fireplace into the dingy pub. He tried his best not to wobble as he walked. As casual as he acted, he still wasn't used to the Floo Network like adults were. It wasn't particularly easy to keep your balance after blasting through an inter-ignis system of fireplaces at speeds the human body shouldn't be able to accommodate.

Behind him his mother emerged far more gracefully than he had, although Floo travel never seemed to agree with her hair, which always seemed to frizz up even more than usual as a result.

Together they wove their way through the tables and chairs to the backdoor of the pub, where a small courtyard was situated. Scott's mother drew out her wand and tapped a single brick on the wall opposite three times, and suddenly the wall seemed to melt away.

Scott had visited Diagon Alley a few times throughout his life, though it was always quite a remarkable sight. He was used to the subtle wizarding side street Wiggen Lane in Upper Flagley, but Diagon Alley was a diamond in comparison.

The street practically bustled, filled with robed witches and wizards milling about, and lined with colourful shops selling all manner of fascinating objects. Scott, in his infinite curiosity, seemed to resemble a large bird who hadn't yet quite worked out glass as he darted from window to window – nearly colliding each time – as the pair made their way up the street.

Shops selling musical instruments that made haunting tones ('Even ghosts will be spooked!'), a magical creature menagerie where a large ferret made rude hand gestures at passersby ("What're you staring at, ya' tosser?"), a cauldron shop with gem encrusted 'goldrons' ('Alchemically infused for the best results!'), and a divination supply store where smoke wafted from, spelling fortunes in the air ('The Fates say you will buy a new tarot deck'). Scott's mother had to drag him away from the Quality Quidditch Supplies storefront, which displayed the new Cleansweep Seven in its window.

"But mum..."

"But nothing, dear. Your Comet's plenty fast."

Scott didn't remain sulky, however, as they were now approaching the impressive marble building that he knew was Gringotts Bank.

The bank was run by beings called Goblins, an outrageously clever people, though consistently at odds with wizardkind throughout their shared history. Scott had read extensively about the many Goblin Rebellions against wizard tyranny, though it wasn't often that he actually got to see one of the diminutive people – they typically lived in small communities separate from wizarding populations.

The Ministry of Magic often said this was for their own good, as allowing wizards and goblins to live together was apparently 'recipe for disaster'. Scott's mother always seemed to find issue with this line of logic, but Scott wasn't sure whether there was a point arguing with the Ministry when they seemed so certain.

Stepping up to the front doors of the bank – a pair of enormous slabs crafted from burnished bronze – Scott saw a goblin dressed in scarlet and gold. His face was swarthy like Scott's, though the similarities ended there. The goblin was over two heads shorter than he was, had long pointed fingers, and a short goatee. He bowed them inside where they met two more goblins and a silver door, engraved with words:

Enter stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Suitably impressed, Scott and his mother walked on through to the main lobby of the bank after being bowed through by the two goblins.

The hall was enormous, and made of the same marble as the exterior. Hundreds of goblins sat at counters, examining valuables, measuring gemstones on scales. Scott pondered what they did with the valuables as he watched a goblin woman examine a golden urn embellished with symbols with interest. They made their way up to her.

"Yes?" she queried.

"Good morning," Scott's mother said primly. "We're here to make a withdrawal from the Carter vault."

"And you have your key, madam?" the goblin drawled.

His mother withdrew the key from inside her purse and handed it to the goblin. She checked it over and a moment later called out for another goblin.

"Torvuk! Show the Carters to their vault, would you?"

The goblin called Torvuk stepped up from behind them, apparently primed to leap into action.

"Of course, Lorag!" he cried eagerly.

Lorag looked faintly exasperated at his antics. She handed the vault key to Torvuk and went back to examining the gold urn.

"Come with me, please!" the unusually excitable goblin said, leading the mother and son pair off through one of the doors that lined the walls of the hall.

Beyond was a narrow stone passage lit up by bracketed torches. A rail track led down a steep decline into an unfathomable darkness beyond. A rattling sound emanated from the slope and within seconds a cart rolled up in front of the three of them.

"Cart for the Carters!" Torvuk called, as though he were a train conductor. Scott and his mother glanced at each other, smiles tugging at their lips.

After they had climbed in, they set off down the passage, gaining speed at a momentous rate. Every now and then they would shoot off down a side tunnel, or into a large cavern. The caves, it seemed, sprawled on for miles underneath London. Scott found himself wondering how old the system was and how it was the Muggles had never accidentally stumbled upon it with all their expansive infrastructure.

Torvuk was whooping as he steered the cart at increasingly concerning speeds around bends and dips. It was now clear as to why Torvuk seemed so eager to guide patrons to their vaults now; he clearly thought the ride was the most fun anyone could have.

Scott heard screaming from his right, and glanced at his mother. He was relieved to see that she was grinning. He decided to join in on her fun, laughing loudly against the buffeting wind as they picked up yet more speed.

On they went, up, down, around. They flipped upside down at one point, the magic of the cart keeping them semi-safe in their seats as they looked down at the stalagmites below their heads.

The three of them were screaming now, in a mix of delight and terror, as the deafening rattle of the cart carried them around twists and corkscrews down into the very depths of the Earth. Scott noticed that they'd managed to double back at a few points in order to relive certain moments in the journey.

Once or twice he could have sworn that he saw a burst of flame out of a tunnel as they passed, or the distant roar of a great beast. Scott knew that there were dragons guarding some of the vaults, though he didn't manage to get a good look at any of them as they passed.

The ride had to end at some point, and much to the disappointment of all parties, they eventually slowed before a platform suspended over a yawning pit. They all managed to climb out of the cart with some difficulty, as they had collectively forgotten how to walk. They each waddled over to the wide crack in the stone wall opposite the cart.

On the other side of the short tunnel from the platform was an enormous vaulted chamber. Directly opposite the crack in the wall was a large vault door, and sitting in front of it was a creature.

The beast might have seemed at first glance like a particularly large lion, with four powerful legs ending in cat's paws. A tufted tail flicked rhythmically behind the creature, hypnotically glancing off the stone flooring. The head of the beast, however, strongly indicated that this being was, in fact, not a lion at all. A woman's head rested where a lion's would normally be, and glossy black hair ran down the back of her head. Her eyes were dark and belied an intimidating cunning. She wore a golden headdress – Egyptian in style – with a carved serpent affixed at the peak. She was watching the trio approach expectantly.

Scott was excited. He'd never been to the family vault before, likely the beast before him being the exact reason his parents had never brought him along. He'd seen pictures and carvings of sphinxes before. Once, his mother had attended a Confederation summit in Cairo. He'd come along because the country had fascinated him, but the closest he'd gotten to a sphinx had been the one at Giza. Now that he was here, he restrained himself from asking it about a hundred different questions.

They continued to approach cautiously until the sphinx stopped them.

"Halt," she said, her powerful voice husky and accented. "If you wish to pass, you must answer me three riddles. If you fail to answer correctly, I will attack. If you choose to leave now, I shall let you go free. Will you choose to hear my riddles?"

Scott's mother sighed in exasperation. "Well, Torvuk, I suppose this is your area of expertise. Take it away."

For once the little goblin looked uneasy. "Er, well, riddles aren't really my speciality, you see."

His mother seemed to swell with rage. The sphinx merely watched them, waiting patiently.

"Do you mean to tell me," his mother said in a deadly whisper, her voice shaking slightly, "that you have no idea how to get past this thing?"

Torvuk looked down at his feet, as he shuffled them nervously. When he didn't respond, she seemed to take that as confirmation.

"Right. Well, I'm rubbish at puzzles and riddles too. So I suppose we'll just sit here like a load of –"

"I'll hear your riddles."

Scott was somewhat shocked by what had come tumbling out of his mouth, but his surprise was nothing in comparison to the thunderstruck expression on his mother's face.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing!?" she cried, a note of anxiety in her voice.

He looked down and saw that he'd taken a tentative step forward in his moment of madness. He breathed in deeply, and then out. Then he looked back up, directly into the almond-shaped eyes of the sphinx.

"I will hear your riddles," he repeated, clearer this time, attempting to banish the screaming voice of reason from his mind.

The sphinx considered him for a moment before nodding, "Very well."

"Scott, dear, have you really thought this through? We won't be allowed to help you, you know."

He didn't look away from the sphinx's eyes, but responded, "Of course I've thought it through."

It wasn't strictly a lie; he had considered what he could learn from the experience and judged it worth risking his life. Just because he'd thought about it didn't mean his resolution had to be logical, necessarily. The sphinx opened her mouth, and Scott's mother instantly ceased her refutations.

"A word I know, six letters it contains, remove one letter, and twelve remains. What am I?"

Scott blinked, breaking eye contact with the sphinx. In typical riddle fashion, the question made no sense when taken for its literal meaning. Numerically, the digits given could not possibly subtract and then equal twelve. He knew there was a trick, a double meaning, but the question was; where was it located? He tried to envision the words in his mind's eye, as if it were written out on a sheet of paper. This didn't help much, and so he altered his approach.

As he considered, he muttered aloud. "Letters, letters... A post box? Hang on, how many letters does 'post box' have?" He counted in his head.

The sphinx was pacing now, striding across the front of the vault door. Scott's mother was gripping Torvuk's long-fingered hand tightly, her nervousness palpable.

"No... Nothing to do with post... Twelve... Twelve... A dozen. Wait, a dozen! How many letters does 'dozen' have? Damn, only five. But, six take one is five! So..."

He looked back up at the sphinx, feeling confident in his answer. "The answer is 'dozens'"

She had stopped pacing, standing before him, almost uncomfortably close now.

"You are certain of your answer?"

He heard his mother squeak behind him.

"Yes."

The sphinx smiled, those dark eyes dancing with amusement. "Correct," she purred.

Scott let out a gust of breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Torvuk began clapping raucously, cheering on his success. Then the sphinx opened her mouth again.

"We sound like Eden as a pair.

Make us wait, we won't play fair.

Sometimes consensus, most times schism.

Often locked away in prism.

If by chance you seek, then throw.

The serpent sees where we meet low.

It is midnight when we meet high,

But separate us, and we die."

Scott's mouth fell open. This sounded far more complex than the last. He glanced back at his mother and the goblin to see that they looked as clueless as him. The sphinx looked expectant.

"Er, could you repeat that, please?"

She did so, but a simple retread of the ominous piece of poetry didn't suddenly allow him to alight upon the answer. He began his muttering once again.

"A pair, if alone, then they die. Hmm... 'Sounds like Eden'. Maybe Adam and Eve? The serpent fits I suppose. The rest, though..."

He thought in silence for a few moments.

"When they meet high, it's midnight... The moon? No... Are there some constellations I'm not thinking of? And that wordplay... Prism... Maybe light through a prism? Come on, Scott, you've studied geometry..."

He stared off into space for several more seconds. He imagined that if one were to watch him, they would be able to actually see his brain working furiously to come to the answer. The sphinx was pacing again, only a few feet away.

"'If by chance... Then throw'..."

He suddenly stopped dead. No, there was no way... But then -

"'Make us wait'? Or weight? Weighted..." He looked around the room, not really seeing. "Prism – A cube! 'Sound like Eden' – like paradise? Or sin? The serpent, midnight – snake eyes! Six and six is twelve! Paradise! Of course!"

He looked back at the sphinx, giddy with glee.

"'Separate us, and we die!' That's the answer! Dice! A pair-o'-dice!"

She looked rather pleased, too. Smiling broadly she asked again: "You are certain of your answer?"

Grinning stupidly, he nodded, too proud of himself to speak.

"Correct."

His mum joined in on the whooping this time. He did several star jumps, if only to relieve some of the built up energy and tension. Once he felt relatively calm again, he saw that the sphinx had sat back down, though now she was only three feet away. Sitting so close, her size was even further highlighted – she practically towered over him. He could feel her warm breath on his face, and his heart rate once again picked up speed.

"For the third challenge, you shall instead solve a puzzle of logic. Most fail such challenges, but I have decided that you ought to try."

Her tail flicked excitedly. Scott's heart seemed to have taken up residence somewhere in his throat and he swallowed convulsively as though attempting to dislodge it.

"You're a thief –"

"What?" Scott cried, sounding strangled.

The sphinx raised an eyebrow, as if to indicate that he was being rude, before continuing.

"You're a thief, and you have managed to get past me into this vault. Inside there are one hundred sacks of coins. One of the sacks is filled with golden Galleons, whilst the other ninety-nine are filled with leprechaun gold, and will vanish after twenty-four hours. You cannot tell the difference between the genuine Galleons and the fakes by handling the coins, looking at them, biting them, or testing them with magic."

He nodded, following so far, though he could already tell this would be the most difficult challenge yet.

"The fake coins weigh exactly one ounce each, whilst the real coins weigh 1.01 ounces. Luckily, there is a large scale with enough room for all the sacks in the vault, but as soon as you weigh something it will trigger a Caterwauling Charm, so you may only use the scale once before you must flee the vault. How can you figure out which sack of coins contains the real gold by only weighing something on the scale once?"

Scott massaged his temple. Arithmetic. He could see what she had meant about most failing. This would not be simple at all. He turned to his mother.

"Could I have some parchment, quill, and an inkwell, Mum?"

A minute later he was writing a series of numbers, pairing a one over a hundred, then two over ninety-nine. The rows continued for a while until he ran out of space, at which point he started cursing softly under his breath. Sweat had started to drip down his face, and his hands were clammy on the quill. He realised that the parchment was effectively useless at that point and scrunched it up and threw it away.

"Could I have another bit of parchment, Mum?" he said, desperately trying to keep his voice level.

Another few minutes passed with little progress. He kept attempting to come at the issue from different angles, using different equations. He had to have his mum refill the inkwell for him now and then, and she was quickly running out of spare parchment. He asked the sphinx to repeat the puzzle, and digested the possibilities he was afforded in the hypothetical.

The issue he was running into was that he had no way of knowing just how many coins were in each sack. But if he could circumvent that issue entirely... His mind returned to the first technique he'd attempted. He whipped out the only bit of parchment left (he'd bled his Mum dry), his Hogwarts equipment list. Time ticked by until Scott eventually managed to come to a solution that followed the instructions given.

"If I take a coin out of one sack, two out of another, then three from a third, and then so on, then place each sack on the scale, then I'd get a number. The equation I used would make the number five-thousand and fifty, though that's a hypothetical for the sake of problem solving. So fifty-fifty ounces.

"But the real coins are more than an ounce. So if I weighed the coins I took out and got, say, fifty-fifty-point-twelve ounces, then that means the real Galleons are in the twelfth sack I took from. If I got fifty-fifty-one, then the last sack had the Galleons, although now a lot of it's spilled on the pile."

He looked up expectantly from where he was kneeling on the floor. The sphinx watched him expressionlessly for a few moments. It occurred to him that should she pounce now, he would have no chance of escape.

Finally, she spoke: "Are you certain of your answer?"

Scott looked at his mother, at Torvuk, down at the graffitied equipment list, and back to the sphinx.

"Uh, yeah."

Suddenly, she shifted. Scott cringed on the floor, for a moment expecting the powerful paws to come crashing down upon him, but instead she stepped aside.

"Congratulations. You may now enter the vault."

She was smiling broader than he'd seen from her so far. It took a few seconds for his victory to register in any of them, but when he did they all started celebrating so loudly that Scott wouldn't have been surprised if the goblins back in the lobby could hear.

He looked back at the sphinx, who seemed quite pleased. He knew sphinxes revelled in watching the unravelling process, and as she sat there watching them, he found himself asking her a question this time.

"Before we leave, I wanted to ask you your name?"

She raised her eyebrows in faint surprise. "I am called Sanura," she revealed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sanura," he said, bowing.

"Likewise, Scott Carter."