Chapter 38: Retrieval

"You're sure you want to do this?" asked Professor Confessus, as he, Harry and Professor Gabriel stood above the hole in the middle of the pavilion. "We can always get you a new wand."

"No sir, I'm fine," replied Harry.

"You don't want a double-barrelled one?" suggested Professor Gabriel.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you can get wands that are effectively two joined together, with a single core. Very good for fighting."

"No, no, I'm fine," said Harry hurriedly.

He was wearing his sports robes and carrying nothing but a small phial of violet liquid. Until he got to his wand, he would have to make do with difficult wandless magic and potions.

"I feel very vulnerable," he remarked.

"Well then, hurry up and get your wand back. Professor Gabriel and I will be here if anything goes wrong, but you should be able to cope. Go!"

Harry took a swig of the potion. He had made it specially: it would enhance his physical, magical and mental powers, but only for thirty seconds and once. He had to use it sparingly.

He leapt into the hole, and found that he was sliding down a long, earthy tunnel. Even Professor Confessus had been unable to work out how Amarenox had affected the underground cave system, so it would be up to Harry to navigate himself. One thing was for sure: the collapsed cave was no longer here.

Harry felt the walls as he slid past, checking for any sign of his wand. His eyesight had been improved slightly by the potion, but in the darkness it was still difficult to see anything. Rocks were scraping his skin, but had little effect: the potion had made it tougher.

Harry was actually fearing for the safety of the bottle, which was bouncing up and down madly at his side, and hoping the tunnel wouldn't end before he had a chance to take another swig. He was lucky: the moment he stopped sliding, there was a click and everything seemed to become surreal. He uncorked the phial and drank, and 'normality' returned.

With his catlike vision, Harry picked out the shapes of the rocks in the darkness. He was in a low tunnel, not unlike that that had led to the cave in the first place. He walked on, downwards.

Icy cold water began to tickle his feet. As the tunnel became lower and lower, it was getting higher and higher. Harry shuddered to think that he could have been drowned in this by now. It had obviously subsided a little since Amarenox had tried to kill them, however.

He presumed the rock he had Conjured had disappeared, as tended to happen, but this hadn't been the case for the rocks in the cave roof. One was ahead of him now: a huge grey boulder blocking his path. He hesitated for a moment, scared he have to go back, then, taking a third mouthful of potion, gave the rock a push. It disintegrated like a piece of tightly packed earth or sand, but Harry's troubles didn't end there.

The boulder had obviously been keeping back a large amount of water. Harry felt an icy torrent engulf him, knocking him backwards. Choking for breath, he stood up. The water was now up to his waist. He took a deep breath, and dived.

He was swimming through the icy water, wandering how long he could keep his breath for. This reminded him of the second task of the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year at Hogwarts, in the lake – but that time he had had Gillyweed. Why hadn't he thought to bring it today. Could he perform a Bubble-Head Charm without a wand? No – it didn't work. His lungs were gasping for air; he was struggling to keep his mouth shut, to keep the freezing water out.

Glancing up, he saw something that wasn't cave roof. He swum towards the tiny flicker of light, and grabbed onto a ledge that was jutting out. He pulled himself up – he was OK. Then he saw, to his horror, that the phial had unattached itself and had fallen back into the depths.

He considered going back for it for a second, but decided otherwise. It was too dangerous; in any case, the bottle had probably smashed, releasing its contents into the water, or been carried far away by the current. He would have to get through as best he could.

He looked around. An underground cliff face, at least twenty feet high, rose above him. He could get up there. It was a simple matter of conjuring ropes, something he had done many a time.

He clapped his hands, and a long rope, knotted every few feet, rose up to the top of the cliff. He scrambled onto it, his wet robes dragging him back. He would need to dry them.

He got to the top quickly: they had done plenty of climbing in the gym with Madam Hooch. He was now standing outside a small door: the original doorway to the cave. It appeared to have returned to its original place, creating havoc on the way.

Harry stepped inside. Shards of rock littered the floor; the roof was at least twice as high as before. A small round hole could be seen in it, but it led nowhere. Harry frantically searched, picking up rocks an moving them aside, then he found it: a stick of wood lying in a corned, with one end badly chipped. He picked it up, and performed a drying charm on himself. It worked. He had fulfilled his mission, and now only needed to get back.

He tried to Disapparate, but found his couldn't. It was obviously a safety precaution imposed by the old man – Amarenox. Harry hadn't Apparated in simply because he hadn't known where he was going. It would have been too dangerous.

He resigned himself to going back the way he came. This time he was prepared. He performed a simple parachute spell, leapt down the cliff, and landed softly on the ledge. Then he performed the Bubble-Head Charm, dived into the icy water, and returned to the surface.