AN: Thanks for the new reviews and everything, always a pleasure to read feedback. ^_^ Well, on with the story...

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Either Tonks' elbow had triggered some sort of secret mechanism, or then the sinister sofa simply had wanted to draw the snoggers' attention away from the sap that was so horridly infesting the poor piece of furniture. Nonetheless, the first option seemed more likely. The instant the couple had been affirmed that they were not hallucinating, they had sprung up from the couch as though they had sat on a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Behind it, it seemed that an invisible hand was picking bricks one by one from the wall, and letting the thin air swallow them right after.

Gradually the low rumble turned extinct as more and more stones vanished, and ultimately everything stood sepulchrally silent. Wands out, Snape and Tonks gawked at the man-sized, yet narrow aperture whose black shape had been formed in the mure. Reedy and roughhewn, it gaped back. Slowly they lowered the wizardous weapons, since no hairy mutant monsters were rampaging out of it.

"I... ehm... Blimey, I don't know what I did, my arm just hit something, and-- uh, I hope I didn't mess up anything important... or is it supposed to do so?" she piffled antsy, mentally moaning at her incomprehensible clumsiness. Usually she was much more casual about her flaws, but today's soup began being way too thick. After sprinkling his robes, was she now guilty of carving random ugly holes in his walls like some giant badger in mushroom high? Perhaps not. Beside her, the man appeared just as baffled because of this new mural ornament.

A sharp scowl was lit under Snape's thick black brows. Stroking his goatee with a long index, he kept evaluating the gap and the sofa. "I indeed wish I had even the slightest idea of what this is about..." He bent down to scrutinize the spot in the armrest that the girl had smashed, "This castle is ancient, and conceals an unknown quantity of secrets inside itself... I daresay your sweet ickle elbow just found one." The ram-head had caved in, and sat now deeper than its fellow decorations, like a button being pushed down. "I do only wonder what it has to do with this wretched junk that dares to call itself a couch... and I highly doubt it has been here ever since old Meister Slytherin had these dungeons built. This cannot be but two or three centuries old at most..."

Nymphadora could almost hear the pinions rolling under his greasy hair, so fast flied his reasoning.

"Hence... I ought to infer that whoever -undoubtedly a former inhabitant of these very rooms- owned this piece of furniture, is also responsible of the phenomenon in question. A secret door, mayhap... had this been located in the public corridors, it most possibly would have been discovered by pint-sized delinquents eons ago... if it indeed is an entrance... into a place unknown... Hmm... Curious..."

Head atilt, Nymphadora leered at the hole. "You... think we should check out what it is?" She took a step to go round the ram-plagued doodah, in order to enter the narrow pass that separated it from the wall beyond, but a hand closed tight over her upper arm with a pincer-like grip, stopping her.

"Careful." She met Snape's beetle-black frown. "Keep in mind where we are. When you face something peculiar here in the Slytherin premises, always assure that it has no jinxes in store for you." His lip curled. "Dear old Gryffindor may await you with milk and cookies, and a few hugs added into the bargain, but here anything may bite your nose off or turn you into a kumquat... Never let the innocent cover fool you. Whence do you think the darkness that binds even these tides has originated? We stand in the cradle and tomb of many Dark Wizards, who in the deep waters of time have hatched schemes of utter malice, and henceforth we shall derive---"

Tonks had to choke down another hysterical fit of giggles that was about to squirt out of her mouth. All that ridiculously solemn pomp and drawl; the situation was missing only the creepy organ music playing in the background. Involuntarily Snape made himself rather comical with all that superfluous melodrama. And yet, somehow fraternal, like a big brother halting his little sister from running in front of a speeding steamroller. He obviously was very defensive towards the few persons he cared about, which she had already experienced more than once. Nonetheless, at the moment this protectiveness felt somewhat out-of-place, as though he had absent-mindedly subtracted ten years from her proper age. And how was it after all... Tonks furthermore had not perfectly adapted to the fact that he kept calling her 'child'. Yet, apparently it was just a diminutive pet name, with no deeper significance.

She patted his forearm jovially, her dark eyes twinkling, "Severus, don't forget that I'm an Auror. Though I'm dead clumsy, it's not like that I'd be walking blindfolded and smashing myself against every single wall. I can perfectly see there might be something iffy waiting. Otherwise I'd keep my wand in my belt."

"Hrhm." Snape's visage had the air of an unripe lemon for a second. The DADA scandal still ticked somewhere in his subconscious, pushing him unwillingly to act as though he possessed the supreme knowledge of the whole universe. But just like she had swallowed the guffaws, he suppressed the slight grudge. After all, nobody would have smiled him that way even once in a terabillion years, nor fondled his suffering arm. It burned and seared nowadays way too often, as Monsieur V. kept so frantically summoning his lackeys. Thus, such a soothing stroke was perhaps more valuable than the whole inners of Gringotts. Especially now that he had used to her touches and was not struck by an inner Petrificus Totalus every time it happened.

Nonetheless, the Potions Master was not totally wrong with his warning. Extremely good as his scotopic vision was, he spotted something about the aperture Nymphadora had evidently missed.

"Indeed... Nevertheless, perhaps I still ought to inform you not to rush right into that..." And truly, squinting, she could see that the air was very feebly vibrating just before the gap, a weak purple tint in it. Indicating that a spell of an unknown nature was protecting the doorway.

"Think we should call Mr. Dumbledore? Or let it just be? Of course I can leave, if--" Tonks' tone was far more concerned now.

"No... I fathom we can handle this without the Headmaster. I am curious to see what this is about. And frankly..." he cast his darkening pupils down at her, "...I... I would not wish you to leave, not just yet... It has been a while... Letters are letters, they cannot hold the very essence of reality, of what you truly are..." his fingers twiddled a second her soft bare shoulder, which obviously was their novel idol. "But of course, if you wish to go, I cannot hinder you..."

"No, no, I didn't mean--"

Again the awkward silence. With four nervous eyes leering at one another in the hemi-darkness.

"Merlin's mittens, let's just see what the bloomin' heck this thing is", the girl snorted after enough mute angst drama, "Got any ideas of how to probe that force field thing?"

A smug curl of lip twisted his gaunt countenance. Ah, the perfect opportunity to show his extravagant talent! The neglected genius of the Dark Arts and their counterjinxes... He struck a dramatic pose, whisked his wand as though it had been a stiff whip, and cried hoarsely, "Ich habe die Zauberkraft, zeigen Sie dann auch Ihre Macht!"

A jet of blindingly yellow light burst out of the wandtip, the hex' grand surging magic making his voluminous robes billow out strikingly for a second, and putting the nearest glass instruments clatter. Tonks' eyes widened in awe; this bat really knew his hoodoo.

Nonetheless, the jinx soon lost its effect as though he had tried performing Avada Kedavra with a fake wand that would turn into a mewling Pikachu plushie halfway during the incantation. Quite nothing happened: the yellow lightning only hurtled over the sofa and through the gap with a sloppy flrrt, illuminating momentarily a portion of a coved corridor, before the blackness guttled it. The dungeon returned to its quietude. Snape looked like a bucket of sour milk again; he had probably made himself a total dingdong.

"Hrmh. Perhaps something lighter..." he muttered. Not that the spell had been a bogus, it merely was meant for poking something that Dark Arkmages created on afternoon strolls, not any pathetic N.E.W.T. -level balderdash.

This time, Tonks' brain-computer had received a faster processor. Frowning, she stared at the lightly rippling ether. "Wait a moment... I think I remember this from somewhere... could it be just---" she removed her other sandal, and tossed it onto the opening's threshold, so that it lay fifty-fifty inside the field. The footwear did not mutate into a carnivorous cactus, nor did anything more intriguing than just lounged there on the flagstones.

"I don't think it's dangerous. I'd say it's a shielding spell, but maybe not for blocking intruders... moreover 'weather-type' effects... I mean, it looks awfully like the umbrella charm some people use when flying in the rain. Never really got the knack of it, but--"

"You... are probably quite right." Severus abandoned the sulking, inquisitiveness taking over him. Apparently there was no point to wallow in self-accusations because of the goof-up, especially after her next, rather admiring, comment.

"Though, you got to teach me that trick. Never seen magic like that done in our Auror training. Might come in handy; we're bound to face dodgy things and places sooner or later if the war goes on..."

*******

A few seconds later Snape and Tonks had swept through the mystical mist, and had not begun sprouting antlers out of their nostrils. The girl had been almost one hundred percent correct with the assumption; the door had indeed been shielded with a dehumidification charm of some sort, the reason remaining yet unknown. The air beyond was much warmer and drier than in the batcave, but also so stale that they burst into a melodic cough duo when entering. After getting used to the stuffy pong, and conjuring in some light to guide the way, they decided to head onwards. As his spell had momentarily illuminated, the place indeed was an archway, perhaps a foot wider from inside than the gap. But still so narrow that the stiff, starched shoulder extensions of Snape's cloak hardly avoided trailing the wallstones.

Clonk, clonk, clonk, their steps echoed sepulchrally in the otherwise deep stillness. Judging by the sea of dust on the floor, nobody had used this passage in centuries. Slightly meandering, it was longer than they would have expected. Or then the darkness cloaked the meters before simply so intensely that the distances became unclear. The explorers gave sidelong glances at the bleak, dull mures, which were cut so craggily in places that almost one could think the builder had been the Giant Squid with a sledgehammer. And still, evidently, this alley had once been in frequent usage. The couple promenaded past at least two shallow alcoves that looked like doors that had been bricked in, their purpose being just as shady. Excluding the dust, the route was oddly clean, totally lacking cobwebs and mummified critters, which remained as another detail to wonder. Usually such itty bitty elements were the standardized decorations of forgotten holes like this.

"Any idea what this could be?" she scrutinized the cheerlessness.

"The same I would inquire... I cannot tell whether this belongs to the original castle construction or if it is a newer addition... Then again, it might well be a part of the structures Salazar Slytherin created... Well, the Chamber of Secrets, for instance, is no longer a vague myth after a bunch of nosing teen celebrities went and found it..." Towards the last sentence, his tone turned dry, radiating the sardonic dislike towards Potter and his marvel sidekicks. But Tonks was so fascinated about the ancient aisle that she quite missed the remark.

"This... um, where could we exactly be? Just wondering... the way seems to be going a bit downwards."

"Somewhere beneath the lake... would explain the dehydration charms, if someone wishes to protect something from dampness. Perhaps we shall find ou--" All abruptly, his floor-dragging robes ceased their sweep. A robust door had emerged from the blackness, its outline looming dimly in the flickering wandlight. The final destination had obviously been reached, since the corridor ended there.

"It's ajar", Nymphadora prompted. "Think we should--?"

Giving a sharp gesture with a few long yellow fingers, Snape wordlessly warned not to rush onwards like a headless chicken. There was no assurance of any kind about the place's safety, even though the archway so far had been as dangerous as a snoozing Flobberworm. Nonetheless, the quietude had been broken already. And as the jolly old Alohomora was not a mute option either, Snape grabbed the large iron ring that served as the handle, and pulled hard. Dust and loose mortar pieces pattered down, as the hefty wooden door unwound itself, moving slowly and creakily on its archaic hinges.        

Quite a different kind of view plunged forth, as Tonks' Lumos spell hit the tardily widening doorgap. Beyond was a small, rather low-ceilinged chamber, with supercharged bookshelves meandering along the walls, as though it had been a minuscule library, or someone's study. Nymphadora could have sworn that every inch of the shelves were loaded with scrolls, manuscripts, and leather-bound books so massive, that if she had attempted lifting one of them, it probably would have slipped immediately from her fingers and crushed her toes. Her gaze, which had been beguiled to amaze the overflow of literature, finally met the room's middle. There stood a rickety table, alike strewn with scripts and parchments, these spread wide open...

Suddenly she gasped, convulsively grasping her wand more firmly and pointing it directly forwards. And so had Snape's clawed hand once more tightened around her upper arm. He had only just emerged from behind the door, but ostensibly had caught the peculiar view just a tad earlier than she.

There was somebody already in the cabinet, sitting on a high stool at the table, back against the astounded incomers.

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...to be continued... Comments?