CHAPTER 12: OPENING THE GATES
The next few days went by quickly for Harry; the endless puzzles posed to him combined with the assignments from his classes filled his days with hurried trips to the library, peering into texts far too late at night, and trading answers with Erif. Ron had not spoken a word to Harry since the day he had cursed him; Hermione was intent on staying away from Harry and Arlé. His friends' attitudes hadn't been very reassuring, and Arlé had grown gradually more distant from him, as if afraid of him.
He noticed, too, that she was eternally tired, and almost always hiding a yawn behind a hand.
He finally received his chance to talk to Bailey about Sirius Thursday evening.
She walked into the Common Room, obviously looking for Arlé, but their eyes met and Harry stood.
"Professor," he greeted softly.
"Potter. Can I help you?"
"Are you going to visit a certain someone who has been injured by Death Eaters?"
Her bronze eyes narrowed for a moment, and then widened in surprise. "You know about him?"
"He's my God-father."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, yes I am going--this weekend, in fact." She smiled at him wistfully. "I know you want to come, but I can't let you."
"And why not?"
"Because... he's too dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Harry exploded, and then lowered his voice, looking around to see if anyone noticed his outburst. "Everyone seems to like icing things off a bit around here! Professor Dumbledore told me that he was all right, and Lupin said that he was unconscious."
"I'm sorry that I had to be the one to reveal this, but he's not in his right mind. He tries to bite at everyone who comes near, and every so often he turns into his animal form. We keep him restrained... It's not pretty."
"Maybe I can help..." Harry began hopefully.
She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. "I've been trying to work with him, link mind-to-mind, anything I thought would work. If seeing you would work, I would have brought you before this. It's not some fear he's got, it's something deeper, something that the Death Eaters forged into his brain." She looked up at him, and grasped his shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry."
Harry sighed, and just then Arlé bounced up, practically beaming with happiness. "Hermione just spoke to me!" She cried to Harry in surprisingly hushed tones. "She apologized, too!"
Harry couldn't help grinning back at her; he was excited to see the look on her face, and Hermione's apology had only made him feel even better. Her green eyes sparkled without a hint of red.
Bailey smiled at them and said to Arlé, "Erif, I want you to come at five instead of six." To Harry, she continued, "I'll get back to you on coming to visit him... I've just had an idea."
She spun on her heel and walked out of the Common Room, leaving Harry staring at Arlé.
Hermione appeared as if out of nowhere by Arlé's side, and said, "Harry, I'm sorry for shunting you aside these past few days... I just really needed to think about certain things." She smiled at him and set the pile of books that she had been carrying onto the table for a moment. "Do you want to come to the library with me? I need to get some books for that Transfiguration Essay..."
Arlé glanced down at the stack of books and smacked herself off the forehead. "Oh, I almost forgot, I need to do something for Transfiguration myself. Can you help me, Hermione?"
"Sure, if you come with me to the library."
"Fair's fair. Coming, Harry?" Arlé asked him.
"Has Ron mentioned anything to you about wanting to make up, Hermione?"
She looked down at the floor and then sadly in Ron's direction. He was sitting on the couch, struggling through Divination homework. She shook her head soundlessly, and Harry sighed. "It's all right, I was just hoping... I guess now I'll come to the library."
They walked into the library, and every head turned in their direction. Harry remembered the last time they were seen together in the library, and he tried to ignore the looks.
They moved to a vacant table and put their things down, and Hermione dove into the aisles of books. Harry and Arlé exchanged bemused glances and stood there for a moment, and then Harry suggested, "Why don't we go find something to occupy ourselves? We could be here for quite some time."
"You know, I think Hermione is rubbing off on me... I want to go find a copy of 'Hogwarts, A History.'"
Harry laughed. "Wow, you're the first. Hermione will be glad to hear that one of us has finally taken her suggestion and searched that old book out."
Arlé led him up and down the aisles in search of the book. They finally located it beside a pile of books about vampires and werewolves; it appeared that it had been misplaced and dumped in this section.
She pulled out the soft gold book and carried it back to their table. She set it down heavily, and dust flew from its bindings.
"What do you need this for?" He asked.
"I need to look up something about the school." She glanced around and whispered, "I heard the teachers talking about some Gates... I want to find out what they are." Her fingers skimmed through the thick book to the index on the last pages, and she paused at one entry. "Aha, I thought that Hogwarts had Gates... Hmm, page six hundred and three..."
Arlé's eyes widened as she read, as if realizing some fatal error that she had committed. She handed him the book mutely, finger pointing to a passage, and watched intently as he read.
"The Gates were placed inside the school during the Attack of 1917 as a safeguard to transport students to safety if trouble struck. Each Gate led to a different Muggle-free area inside of England's borders. Some unknown source found and located each of these seven Gates, and sold this information to the highest bidder. The winner was a witch named Tonya Garcilla, who wrote for the Witch Weekly at the time. She posted this information and the Minister of Magic, at the time Robert Stevens, personally saw to their eternal dormancy. As of now, only six of these Gates have been found, and extensive search throughout the past century has led many to believe that the seventh Gate was unstable and collapsed shortly after its birth. A handful of wizards and witches wonder, however, if the collapse of one of these fabled Gates would not destroy everything within a mile radius of the school because of the extreme concentration of magic that composes the structure of each Gate."
"Wow." He looked up from the reading and found that Hermione had come over while he was reading.
She was looking at the book over his shoulder, an amused expression on her face. "So you finally decided to take my advice and read the book?"
"Well, it was actually Arlé's idea to read it. She said that she overheard the teachers talking about opening the Gates..."
"No..." Hermione breathed as she scanned the page. "But it says that they're all shut down permanently..."
"I know," Arlé cut in, "But I heard them say it."
"That could be dangerous."
Harry glanced up at Arlé. "Did you hear why they wanted to open them?"
Arlé nodded, sinking into the chair beside Harry, who was still leaning over the open book. "They said they were going to try sending Parvati home..."
"Then they would open it soon."
Arlé nodded, looking around at her two friends. "Probably either this weekend or the next."
"They can't do it the next weekend, that's when the Ball is," Hermione protested.
"So they would do it this weekend." Harry squinted down at the page and noticed that there was more about the Gates on the opposing page.
He read it out loud. "'The spell for opening a Gate will open all of them, granting easy access in times of imminent danger. However, the one drawback is that the Gates are either way accessible: anyone could go back to Hogwarts via an open Gate.' If someone finds out that they are going to open the Gate this weekend, then Vold--You-Know-Who could find a way inside."
"I'm sure Dumbledore knows the problem behind opening a Gate, though. After all, he is Head Master of the school..." Hermione said, looking intently at the page with one finger lightly touching the corner of it.
"Where are the known Gates?" Arlé asked, glancing around the library.
"It doesn't say," Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.
"What does this mean?" Her finger was trembling slightly as it touched some text written in a different language. Beneath the script were the words, "None have been able to translate this, but scholars believe that it may tell of the positions of all seven Gates, if one could translate it properly."
"What language is it?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"'Explorendo casim quattuar superema Ianuimon aci aquilom, auster, eurus irda occiduus...'" Arlé read off perfectly, the odd red light spreading to her eyes as a distant look took her somewhere far away from them. Harry backed away from her, hoping she would keep her voice soft, because this just wasn't normal, and people would notice. He glanced at Hermione and she nodded, as if making a connection. "'Primitianu cista turric ni invisare ica du gramen. Secundianu, cista inferuscontabulatia de schen schola. Tertianu irda quartianu unicam appareo cin luna ampla, adsideo turric parvus. Quintianu irda sextianu iuxta seminædificium. Septianu, irda ma praepotens, lateo cista subta Atrium Grandim. Septianu usurpa liberat ica alterianu, quam cetre serere aci seianu.'"
"What does it mean?" Hermione asked again, and Arlé squinted and began reciting. Her voice took on a cold eerie tone as she read falteringly.
"Look for the four main Gates at North, South, East, and West. The first is within the tower that cannot be seen from the lawn. The second, within the lowest level of the school. The third and fourth are only visible on the full moon, beside the smallest tower. The fifth and sixth are near the Greenhouses. The seventh, and most powerful, is hidden in the depths of the Great Hall. The seventh is operated independently of the others, although it may be linked to them."
She slumped backward once she had finished, and Hermione almost didn't catch her in time because she was so shocked. Harry tucked a chair beneath her, and she sank weakly into it, closing her eyes and shaking her head.
She lifted her head for a moment and then blinked slowly. Harry watched as the red light receded from her eyes. "Harry, I..."
Hermione grabbed her shoulder roughly and pointed at her arm; Arlé nodded and reached over weakly to cover Hermione's hand with her own.
"How...?" Harry stammered, confused. It just didn't make sense; how could Arlé speak and understand some language that no one else could understand?
"What language is it?" She looked away from him, not wanting to explain... He began again, desperate to see her eyes alight with life instead of cold hard steel. "Arlé, why can't you explain this to me?"
Her eyes hardened as she glared up at him. "What did you just call me?"
"Ar..." He trailed off into silence, realizing his error.
"I don't go by that name anymore," she said icily, standing up with reserved strength he hadn't known she had. "I don't know where you got that name, but I've left that life behind. And you should too." She grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder. Harry grasped her arm as she swept up her books, and she quite unwillingly looked into his eyes. Beneath her icy exterior, tears lurked, making him wonder if she had truly forgotten her past as she said she had...
She shoved his hand off and stalked out of the library. Harry sighed and sank into a chair, putting his head down on the desk.
Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and said cryptically, "You've chosen the right one..."
Harry shook his head and said, "Why did she tell you and not me?"
"I forced her to tell me," Hermione said gently, "But I would suggest you wait for her to tell you..."
"I've waited a long time already," he grumbled, but he knew she was right.
"Give her time," she suggested, picking up the scattered books. Her hand paused on the "Hogwarts, A History," and she quickly bookmarked the page and put it on top of her pile. "I'm going to supper now. Coming?"
Harry got to his feet and followed her, wondering where Arlé had gone.
* * *
"He knows," she spat into the darkness, lighting and putting out the candle irritably.
"Knows what?"
"Knows my other name. Knows who I am... He probably knows what I'm hiding too."
"How do you know that?" Bailey asked, relighting the candle and moving it from Erif's clenching fingers.
"He called me Arlé; what else does he know about me that I've never told him?"
"Perhaps it's time to bring the truth out..."
"Perhaps after the dance."
"You don't even know if you're going together yet."
"No, we don't. I just don't want to hear him say no... Especially not after that kiss... I have to make sure Harry likes me first before I'll pour my heart to him." She reached out and tenderly touched the flame with a slightly curved forefinger. Turning her hand over, the fire moved from her finger to her palm. She cupped her hands around it and looked down at it. How could such a small thing capture her heart, just as Harry had?
"The other things have started, too. I was able to read some language that no one else could understand... It scared me, and Harry, too."
"We're going to have to practice bigger."
"I'm afraid to. What if someone sees, and word gets out to You-Know-Who?" She shuddered and the flames licked higher from her palm. She snuffed them out and stood wearily.
"Do you want to continue?" Bailey asked, and Erif knew that Summer understood.
"A part of me does, and the other part doesn't. I need to learn to control it, but at what risk, what cost will I learn? And if controlling it will cost lives, I'm not willing to go any further."
"Very good. That's what I needed to hear," Summer said, rising as well. "You have more strength than you give yourself credit for."
She snuffed out the candle and they stood in the darkness for a few moments. Erif wasn't afraid to admit that darkness made her nervous, but she also felt safe in the dark. She could hide and not be seen...
(*A/N* Just to inform you all, I am just making up the name "Robert Stevens" but if anyone knows the real Minister of Magic before Fudge, could you let me know? Also, the language that Erif reads is my own clever little language. It does actually closely resemble Latin, though... ;) R/R, please!!! )
The next few days went by quickly for Harry; the endless puzzles posed to him combined with the assignments from his classes filled his days with hurried trips to the library, peering into texts far too late at night, and trading answers with Erif. Ron had not spoken a word to Harry since the day he had cursed him; Hermione was intent on staying away from Harry and Arlé. His friends' attitudes hadn't been very reassuring, and Arlé had grown gradually more distant from him, as if afraid of him.
He noticed, too, that she was eternally tired, and almost always hiding a yawn behind a hand.
He finally received his chance to talk to Bailey about Sirius Thursday evening.
She walked into the Common Room, obviously looking for Arlé, but their eyes met and Harry stood.
"Professor," he greeted softly.
"Potter. Can I help you?"
"Are you going to visit a certain someone who has been injured by Death Eaters?"
Her bronze eyes narrowed for a moment, and then widened in surprise. "You know about him?"
"He's my God-father."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, yes I am going--this weekend, in fact." She smiled at him wistfully. "I know you want to come, but I can't let you."
"And why not?"
"Because... he's too dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Harry exploded, and then lowered his voice, looking around to see if anyone noticed his outburst. "Everyone seems to like icing things off a bit around here! Professor Dumbledore told me that he was all right, and Lupin said that he was unconscious."
"I'm sorry that I had to be the one to reveal this, but he's not in his right mind. He tries to bite at everyone who comes near, and every so often he turns into his animal form. We keep him restrained... It's not pretty."
"Maybe I can help..." Harry began hopefully.
She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. "I've been trying to work with him, link mind-to-mind, anything I thought would work. If seeing you would work, I would have brought you before this. It's not some fear he's got, it's something deeper, something that the Death Eaters forged into his brain." She looked up at him, and grasped his shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry."
Harry sighed, and just then Arlé bounced up, practically beaming with happiness. "Hermione just spoke to me!" She cried to Harry in surprisingly hushed tones. "She apologized, too!"
Harry couldn't help grinning back at her; he was excited to see the look on her face, and Hermione's apology had only made him feel even better. Her green eyes sparkled without a hint of red.
Bailey smiled at them and said to Arlé, "Erif, I want you to come at five instead of six." To Harry, she continued, "I'll get back to you on coming to visit him... I've just had an idea."
She spun on her heel and walked out of the Common Room, leaving Harry staring at Arlé.
Hermione appeared as if out of nowhere by Arlé's side, and said, "Harry, I'm sorry for shunting you aside these past few days... I just really needed to think about certain things." She smiled at him and set the pile of books that she had been carrying onto the table for a moment. "Do you want to come to the library with me? I need to get some books for that Transfiguration Essay..."
Arlé glanced down at the stack of books and smacked herself off the forehead. "Oh, I almost forgot, I need to do something for Transfiguration myself. Can you help me, Hermione?"
"Sure, if you come with me to the library."
"Fair's fair. Coming, Harry?" Arlé asked him.
"Has Ron mentioned anything to you about wanting to make up, Hermione?"
She looked down at the floor and then sadly in Ron's direction. He was sitting on the couch, struggling through Divination homework. She shook her head soundlessly, and Harry sighed. "It's all right, I was just hoping... I guess now I'll come to the library."
They walked into the library, and every head turned in their direction. Harry remembered the last time they were seen together in the library, and he tried to ignore the looks.
They moved to a vacant table and put their things down, and Hermione dove into the aisles of books. Harry and Arlé exchanged bemused glances and stood there for a moment, and then Harry suggested, "Why don't we go find something to occupy ourselves? We could be here for quite some time."
"You know, I think Hermione is rubbing off on me... I want to go find a copy of 'Hogwarts, A History.'"
Harry laughed. "Wow, you're the first. Hermione will be glad to hear that one of us has finally taken her suggestion and searched that old book out."
Arlé led him up and down the aisles in search of the book. They finally located it beside a pile of books about vampires and werewolves; it appeared that it had been misplaced and dumped in this section.
She pulled out the soft gold book and carried it back to their table. She set it down heavily, and dust flew from its bindings.
"What do you need this for?" He asked.
"I need to look up something about the school." She glanced around and whispered, "I heard the teachers talking about some Gates... I want to find out what they are." Her fingers skimmed through the thick book to the index on the last pages, and she paused at one entry. "Aha, I thought that Hogwarts had Gates... Hmm, page six hundred and three..."
Arlé's eyes widened as she read, as if realizing some fatal error that she had committed. She handed him the book mutely, finger pointing to a passage, and watched intently as he read.
"The Gates were placed inside the school during the Attack of 1917 as a safeguard to transport students to safety if trouble struck. Each Gate led to a different Muggle-free area inside of England's borders. Some unknown source found and located each of these seven Gates, and sold this information to the highest bidder. The winner was a witch named Tonya Garcilla, who wrote for the Witch Weekly at the time. She posted this information and the Minister of Magic, at the time Robert Stevens, personally saw to their eternal dormancy. As of now, only six of these Gates have been found, and extensive search throughout the past century has led many to believe that the seventh Gate was unstable and collapsed shortly after its birth. A handful of wizards and witches wonder, however, if the collapse of one of these fabled Gates would not destroy everything within a mile radius of the school because of the extreme concentration of magic that composes the structure of each Gate."
"Wow." He looked up from the reading and found that Hermione had come over while he was reading.
She was looking at the book over his shoulder, an amused expression on her face. "So you finally decided to take my advice and read the book?"
"Well, it was actually Arlé's idea to read it. She said that she overheard the teachers talking about opening the Gates..."
"No..." Hermione breathed as she scanned the page. "But it says that they're all shut down permanently..."
"I know," Arlé cut in, "But I heard them say it."
"That could be dangerous."
Harry glanced up at Arlé. "Did you hear why they wanted to open them?"
Arlé nodded, sinking into the chair beside Harry, who was still leaning over the open book. "They said they were going to try sending Parvati home..."
"Then they would open it soon."
Arlé nodded, looking around at her two friends. "Probably either this weekend or the next."
"They can't do it the next weekend, that's when the Ball is," Hermione protested.
"So they would do it this weekend." Harry squinted down at the page and noticed that there was more about the Gates on the opposing page.
He read it out loud. "'The spell for opening a Gate will open all of them, granting easy access in times of imminent danger. However, the one drawback is that the Gates are either way accessible: anyone could go back to Hogwarts via an open Gate.' If someone finds out that they are going to open the Gate this weekend, then Vold--You-Know-Who could find a way inside."
"I'm sure Dumbledore knows the problem behind opening a Gate, though. After all, he is Head Master of the school..." Hermione said, looking intently at the page with one finger lightly touching the corner of it.
"Where are the known Gates?" Arlé asked, glancing around the library.
"It doesn't say," Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.
"What does this mean?" Her finger was trembling slightly as it touched some text written in a different language. Beneath the script were the words, "None have been able to translate this, but scholars believe that it may tell of the positions of all seven Gates, if one could translate it properly."
"What language is it?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"'Explorendo casim quattuar superema Ianuimon aci aquilom, auster, eurus irda occiduus...'" Arlé read off perfectly, the odd red light spreading to her eyes as a distant look took her somewhere far away from them. Harry backed away from her, hoping she would keep her voice soft, because this just wasn't normal, and people would notice. He glanced at Hermione and she nodded, as if making a connection. "'Primitianu cista turric ni invisare ica du gramen. Secundianu, cista inferuscontabulatia de schen schola. Tertianu irda quartianu unicam appareo cin luna ampla, adsideo turric parvus. Quintianu irda sextianu iuxta seminædificium. Septianu, irda ma praepotens, lateo cista subta Atrium Grandim. Septianu usurpa liberat ica alterianu, quam cetre serere aci seianu.'"
"What does it mean?" Hermione asked again, and Arlé squinted and began reciting. Her voice took on a cold eerie tone as she read falteringly.
"Look for the four main Gates at North, South, East, and West. The first is within the tower that cannot be seen from the lawn. The second, within the lowest level of the school. The third and fourth are only visible on the full moon, beside the smallest tower. The fifth and sixth are near the Greenhouses. The seventh, and most powerful, is hidden in the depths of the Great Hall. The seventh is operated independently of the others, although it may be linked to them."
She slumped backward once she had finished, and Hermione almost didn't catch her in time because she was so shocked. Harry tucked a chair beneath her, and she sank weakly into it, closing her eyes and shaking her head.
She lifted her head for a moment and then blinked slowly. Harry watched as the red light receded from her eyes. "Harry, I..."
Hermione grabbed her shoulder roughly and pointed at her arm; Arlé nodded and reached over weakly to cover Hermione's hand with her own.
"How...?" Harry stammered, confused. It just didn't make sense; how could Arlé speak and understand some language that no one else could understand?
"What language is it?" She looked away from him, not wanting to explain... He began again, desperate to see her eyes alight with life instead of cold hard steel. "Arlé, why can't you explain this to me?"
Her eyes hardened as she glared up at him. "What did you just call me?"
"Ar..." He trailed off into silence, realizing his error.
"I don't go by that name anymore," she said icily, standing up with reserved strength he hadn't known she had. "I don't know where you got that name, but I've left that life behind. And you should too." She grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder. Harry grasped her arm as she swept up her books, and she quite unwillingly looked into his eyes. Beneath her icy exterior, tears lurked, making him wonder if she had truly forgotten her past as she said she had...
She shoved his hand off and stalked out of the library. Harry sighed and sank into a chair, putting his head down on the desk.
Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and said cryptically, "You've chosen the right one..."
Harry shook his head and said, "Why did she tell you and not me?"
"I forced her to tell me," Hermione said gently, "But I would suggest you wait for her to tell you..."
"I've waited a long time already," he grumbled, but he knew she was right.
"Give her time," she suggested, picking up the scattered books. Her hand paused on the "Hogwarts, A History," and she quickly bookmarked the page and put it on top of her pile. "I'm going to supper now. Coming?"
Harry got to his feet and followed her, wondering where Arlé had gone.
* * *
"He knows," she spat into the darkness, lighting and putting out the candle irritably.
"Knows what?"
"Knows my other name. Knows who I am... He probably knows what I'm hiding too."
"How do you know that?" Bailey asked, relighting the candle and moving it from Erif's clenching fingers.
"He called me Arlé; what else does he know about me that I've never told him?"
"Perhaps it's time to bring the truth out..."
"Perhaps after the dance."
"You don't even know if you're going together yet."
"No, we don't. I just don't want to hear him say no... Especially not after that kiss... I have to make sure Harry likes me first before I'll pour my heart to him." She reached out and tenderly touched the flame with a slightly curved forefinger. Turning her hand over, the fire moved from her finger to her palm. She cupped her hands around it and looked down at it. How could such a small thing capture her heart, just as Harry had?
"The other things have started, too. I was able to read some language that no one else could understand... It scared me, and Harry, too."
"We're going to have to practice bigger."
"I'm afraid to. What if someone sees, and word gets out to You-Know-Who?" She shuddered and the flames licked higher from her palm. She snuffed them out and stood wearily.
"Do you want to continue?" Bailey asked, and Erif knew that Summer understood.
"A part of me does, and the other part doesn't. I need to learn to control it, but at what risk, what cost will I learn? And if controlling it will cost lives, I'm not willing to go any further."
"Very good. That's what I needed to hear," Summer said, rising as well. "You have more strength than you give yourself credit for."
She snuffed out the candle and they stood in the darkness for a few moments. Erif wasn't afraid to admit that darkness made her nervous, but she also felt safe in the dark. She could hide and not be seen...
(*A/N* Just to inform you all, I am just making up the name "Robert Stevens" but if anyone knows the real Minister of Magic before Fudge, could you let me know? Also, the language that Erif reads is my own clever little language. It does actually closely resemble Latin, though... ;) R/R, please!!! )