The smallest country in Europe, Albania, covers 11,100 square miles and consists of mountains and three rather large lakes. Like its Mediterranean counterparts, the typical weather patterns are mild temperatures, cool and cloudy, though the winters tend to be wet and the summers tend to be dry.

The air is cool, but far dryer than springtime back home in Britain, as attested to by the dying crunch of the leaves and broken branches below their feet. The Albanian forest is thick and deep, and Hermione stared down into its shadows. In her mind's eye she could almost see a small, insubstantial white shadow trailing like mist across the shadowy forest floor, pitiless red eyes gleaming in the darkness… however warm the weather was supposed to be, Hermione felt a chill and wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself.

She wrapped her arms almost protectively around the diary, though it was the middle of the day and she, Ron, Harry, and Malfoy were alone in the forest. Though gradual, the path they were traveling on is slanted up the side of a mountain. All that Apperating can really get you out of shape. Her legs were beginning to burn from walking.

Quite suddenly, the woods ended, the trees parting away as though a stage curtain were being drawn open before them. Before them lay another layer of rising mountain, a seamless rocky wall not much taller than she was.

Exhaling deeply, she pulled out the diary and double checked her schematics. This involved enlisting the aid of Malfoy's arm, but she tried to appear supremely unconcerned by that. She glanced quickly at him, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his hand pressing against his forehead.

"Are you alright?" she asked him before she could stop herself.

He glared at her. "I have a hangover," he moaned, massaging his temples. He muttered a few curses under his breath, succinctly expressing just how horrid his hangover was at the moment.

The words of the girl in the pub still echoed through her brain at odd intervals. He'll follow you…to the ends of the Earth…Who? Harry? Ron? Malfoy? What was that supposed to mean? She frowned. Divination was a load of dragon dung anyway.

She scanned the page in front of her, pulling out one of the papers from Flamel and clutching it absently. Finally, she snapped the diary shut with one hand, staring at the rock face and smiling in satisfaction.

"We're here," she announced.

"We're where?" asked Ron in bewilderment.

"The final resting place of Rowena Ravenclaw." Hermione gestured broadly at the stone wall. "Ravenclaw's tomb."

"Hermione," said Harry delicately. "There's no door there…"

"We could make one," offered Ron. He pulled out his wand. "Re—" Hermione squeaked and raced forward to clap her hand over Ron's mouth.

"Are you mad?" she hissed, her heart hammering. "You'll bring down the whole mountain on us!"

"Stop shouting!" complained Malfoy. "Ugh, I think my head is going to explode."

"Then how the bloody hell are we supposed to get in?" demanded Ron, irritated.

"Is there another entrance?" asked Harry, swiveling his head around to see the surrounding landscape. He craned his neck to get a better view of the vast rising mountain in front of them.

"No," said Hermione. Staring resolutely at the wall, she propped open the diary in Malfoy's hands and began reading, tracing her gaze along the page with her index finger. She nodded to herself, and then began reciting.

"O Lady of the Glen, I am a traveler, seeking wisdom. May I tread upon the lighted path?" she recited, articulating clearly. It was an interesting incantation, more of a poem really. And it had taken a lot of guesswork trying to get the exact formula. It seemed to have a rhythm all its own as she spoke it.

"You do realize you're talking to a wall don't you?" Ron pointed out dryly. She glared at him. Malfoy seemed too afflicted with head pain to care what they were doing. The rock remained as it was, smooth and immobile. Hmm…

"Maybe it needs blood," offered Harry, thoughtfully staring at the wall.

"Blood?" said Ron incredulously. "Eww."

"The last cave I—" he began, but Hermione cut him off impatiently. Yes, she knew exactly what he was going to say. She had precious little time to waste, after all. She wanted to solve the mystery now.

"Yes, I know, that's not it," she said quickly. She began running her hands over the cool, rough surface of the stone. Green, leafy tendrils curled around the edges, almost framing the center of the rock. She pushed a few of them aside like a leafy curtain, smiling in triumph as she found what she was looking for.

"What's that?" asked Ron, peering over her shoulder. There was a small, circular design carved into the rock. Across the surface of the rock, one in each of four corners, were similar designs.

"Alchemical circles," she said, tearing the vines away in attempt to free the other symbols. "Ancient alchemists believed there were four elements that made up the world—Earth, Air, Fire, and Water." Another vine gave way with a snap, flopping away and hanging limply on the wall.

"Oh," said Ron sarcastically. "Well, that explains it."

"Could you shut up Weasley?" said Malfoy aggravatedly. "Your whiny voice isn't helping my bloody migraine."

"Why don't you shut up?" countered Ron, his comebacks as astonishingly clever as ever. Harry looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Why don't you both shut up?" suggested Harry diplomatically, then, seeing the miffed look on Ron's face, looked at Malfoy and added, "particularly you, ferret boy."

Hermione ignored them and focused on gaining entrance to the cave. It was definitely here, she just had to figure out how to get in. She tapped the center of the wall with her wand.

"Magus, Terra, Aer, Ignis, Aqua," she whispered. The symbols began to glow. Yes! Another round design appeared in the center of the wall. The fifth and final element of the universe—magic. Still, this was proving to be a bit more difficult than she anticipated. She thought back to the diary and Flamel's notes, determined to integrate the two and not make a mess of everything.

"It is the golden Key to know how to open the Doors. The key is Wisdom, and it unites all things. O Lady of the Glen, I am a traveler, seeking wisdom. May I tread upon the lighted path?"

As if to answer her question, there was a rumbling from somewhere deep within the cave. A thin line of light suddenly appeared on the smooth surface of the stone, tracing itself in a wide arc as if someone were cutting a door with an invisible knife. She backed away. Her traveling companions fell silent and watched. The light faded, and the stone began to warp and twist, until all that was left was a gaping hole in the rock. It was an entrance to a cave that looked perfectly natural, like it had always been there.

They stared silently at the entrance for a few moments. It looked like a cavernous mouth, slack jawed and gaping at them, and within it lay an long tunnel of seemingly endless darkness.

"So…" said Ron casually. "Who wants to go in first?" They all looked around at each other. Going in first wasn't the most exciting prospect.

Malfoy sneered. "I though Gryffindors were supposed to be—"

"If you finish that cliché I'm going to kick your arse, Malfoy," she snapped. "Oh, come on," she said impatiently, after an awkward pause. She moved to step forward. "I'll—"

"I think Potter should go first," piped up Malfoy. Harry didn't speak a word of protest. He looked at the entrance, gripped his wand tightly, and strode into the cave before Hermione had a chance to react. They all hurried in behind him.

The further they moved into the cave, the darker it seemed to get. Hermione squinted her eyes and peered into the darkness. Her thoughts drifted to the diary.

The entrance to the cave is a riddle in itself—but it requires relatively basic knowledge of alchemy if the proper resources are attained. Sirius, I'm going to spell this out for you—be patient. From what I can tell, a little bit of the essence of Ravenclaw herself survives in those walls. The magic there is ancient and powerful. I installed something on the walls that may be helpful. (I might point out—the cave did not respond kindly to any interference on my part.) However, you may find the incantation 'Allumia' rather helpful, unless of course you enjoy stumbling around in the dark.

Hermione wondered how Sirius would have responded to this diary if he had found it. It certainly would have been an interesting adventure. Sirius tended to be a brash man—would he even have the patience to complete this quest? Would he have trusted Regulus enough to try? It was interesting that the prejudice that Sirius had immediately hoisted onto his brother was probably the same prejudice that had made it so easy for the entire wizarding community to damn Sirius and send him off to Azkaban without a second thought.

Bugger all. Could her brain ever focus on the task at hand without analyzing every other thought that occurred to her? Being intelligent was rather irritating sometimes.

"Allumia," she cried, pointing her wand into the seemingly endless expanse of the tunnel. There was a rushing sound, as though the cave was gasping for air. Suddenly, previously unnoticed torches on the walls of the cave burst to life with dazzling blue flames. There were dozens of them, stretching far into the vast tunnel.

"Nice one, Hermione," said Harry, impressed. Hermione beamed. It was always nice to be appreciated. "I really don't think I would have had much luck of this quest on my own," he added meaningfully. She blushed. He was probably right, but she was embarrassed to admit it.

000

They walked until the cave tapered off into a doorway sized opening. The stared at it curiously, but eventually decided just to walk right through it. It didn't exactly look threatening. Draco decided if Potter would keep up his habit of self-righteously charging ahead of his friends for the entire journey, everything would probably work out just fine. Or at least it would give Draco some time to run away if things got terrifying.

He felt a tingling in the back of his neck as they passed through the doorway. Enchanted—but that was to be expected. The problem was figuring out exactly what the enchantment did. The cave emptied into a large stone cavern.

Draco was hummimg under his breath. Suddenly, Weasley hauled off and smacked him upside the head.

"OW!" he said angrily. "What was that for, you git? I still have a hangover, you know."

Weasley looked irate. "You know very well what you were humming, you git!"

Draco paused for a moment, considering. Then, a slow smile spread onto his face as the identity of the melody occurred to him. "Weasley, He was born in a bin, He always lets the Quaffle in—" he sang. The song was one of his more brilliant strokes of genius. Weasley curled as though ready to spring on him, but Potter grabbed his robes.

"Much as I hate to admit it, we do need him alive," said Potter apologetically. Weasley grumbled mutinously but made no further attempt to kill Draco.

At the far end of the cave was another door-like opening in the rock. They dutifully strode through it, and Draco felt a similar chill. This time they passed into another room. This one seemed different, however. It was smaller than the previous cavern, and it was more purposefully hewn out of the rock of the cave. It was circular, with a lower ceiling and at least a dozen doors spread out on the walls.

"Er—right," said Potter looking around uncertainly. "Which one?" He looked expectantly at Granger.

"I'm not sure," said Granger, clasping her hands together.

"Granger doesn't know something?" he sneered. "Really? I think I might die of shock…"

Gragner ignored him, which was infuriating in itself. For some reason—he did not like being ignored. He wanted a reaction, preferably outrage.

She looked around thoughtfully, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I think…" She strode through one of the doors. Draco was suddenly alarmed. She didn't know where that went! There was absolutely no assurance that she would get lost. What the bloody hell was she doing?

"I though so…" sighed Granger's voice. It was coming from behind him. The three of them whirled around. She had reemerged from another one of the doorways. Draco quickly tallied them up. There were thirteen in total.

"They're all connected," she explained. "They take you back to where you were. It's sort of like a maze."

"I'm really not a huge fan of mazes," said Potter, as if anyone cared. Stupid Potter with his stupid attitude and his stupid sword. Why did he have to be the most powerful potential ally around? How wretchedly unfortunate.

"What do you mean?" asked Weasley. He went forward through one of the doors, only to reemerge from a different door. "Bloody hell."

Potter followed his example. For Merlin's sake, what was so fascinating? They already knew how it worked. For a glorious moment, Draco thought Potter would disappear forever, but he quickly reemerged in a different part of the room. Draco was understandably disappointed.

"This is insane!" cried Weasley. He raced in and out of the doors, emerging randomly at different points in the room. "What's the point of this?"

"It's meant to test your wit and worthiness," said Granger, in a voice more patient that Weasley probably deserved. He was running around like a frenzied three year old. She followed his example of moving in and out of the doors, but she moved slowly and more purposefully, with a deeply contemplative look on her face. "It's like the staircases back at Hogwarts." She disappeared, reappearing on Draco's left. "Those were Ravenclaw's idea as well."

"Those staircases are pointless!" said Weasley, now sounding hysterical. "They're annoying! They don't test anything other than your ability to twist your ankle!"

Granger did not respond. She strode back and forth across the room, muttering to herself and pointing at the doors. Draco looked down at his hands. He was still holding R. A. B.'s diary. She had thrust it in his hands after lighting the torches.

Curiosity nagged at him. Last time he opened the diary, the repercussions hadn't been so spectacular. But, he reasoned, he had every right to read the diary, considering it was nearly responsible for his death and definitely responsible for his involvement in this entire mess, and he was the only one alive who could read it unaided. He cracked open the journal a few pages past the spot Granger had marked and began to read.

Sirius, I know you're too dense to work things out for yourself, so…

Finally, Granger clapped her hands. "I think I have it!" she said, smiling broadly. "You just have to travel through the doors in a specific pattern. I think it's—"

"North door thrice, South-southeast door twice, East door once, Northwest door four times, across the South door once, West door once, Southwest door once, and finally the West door, one time only," Draco recited from the diary.

They all stared at him. "Oh…" Granger looked crestfallen. "I had it all figured out, too."

"Hermione," said Potter, turning his gaze towards her. "Please, please don't tell me you purposely ignored that part of the book so you could solve the puzzle on your own."

Granger flushed crimson, an obvious indication of her implicit guilt. "Well, let's not waste anymore time, shall we?" she said briskly, striding forward towards the North door.

000

"I don't see what the problem is…" she muttered to herself, as she passed through the door. She reappeared by the East door and continued walking. "Ravenclaw was the probably the most intellectually brilliant witch of all time, it's not an opportunity one comes across everyday…"

Once they had successfully bypassed the intricate maze of doorways, they found themselves walking through another long, dark tunnel, conveniently lit by the same blue torches. Hermione looked around at the roughly carved stone walls, and shivered slightly. Regulus had written about the ancient magic in this place, but she wasn't entirely sure he had felt what she was feeling now. He couldn't have—or he would probably have mentioned it.

It was more than a magical place—there was magic in the air at Hogwarts too—but this was so thick it was almost tangible. It was as though something powerful and alive were coursing through the walls of the cave like a heady current. Ancient magic.

She felt connected to it in a way she couldn't explain.

This was Ravenclaw's tomb, after all. Was that the reason? She felt her mind drifting back to first year, and the Sorting.

Her hands clamped around the edge of the Hat, and she jammed it eagerly onto her head. She could feel her entire body humming with excitement. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were boring into her, but she didn't care.

She had read all about this over the summer. She loved to read. She had read a lot of things in her lifetime, each of them fantastic and wonderful and exciting. But this—this was real. It was coming true just as she had read it. Dumbledore wasn't just a white bearded wizard living in her imagination, he was sitting at the staff table, with a broad smile and a crooked nose. Hogwarts was real. Magic was real.

She had even read about the Sorting Hat, but she still jumped slightly when a little voice began buzzing in her ear.

"My, my, what a MIND!" cried the voice. "Merlin's Beard, I don't think I've seen such a mind since Ravenclaw herself! You would do quite well in her House, my dear. She would be deeply honored for you to join the illustrious ranks of those of the Greatest wit and learning—"

"What about the other houses?" she thought, interrupting the hat. "I've read about them, too."

"Other houses?" said the voice, sounding slightly disappointed. "Well…I see quite a brave heart, plenty of courage and loyalty, you would make an excellent Gryffindor, I suppose."

Hermione smiled inwardly. Yes! She had read about Gryffindor. It sounded like the best house, though she had only—

"Yes, what else…" continued that Hat. "All that cleverness has made you quite resourceful, quite a bit of cunning when necessary, drive, ambition…all qualities valued by Slytherin, too bad he is rather reluctant to admit Muggle borns…"

Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. Slytherin? Oh no, that would not do at all. She had read about Slytherin—it did not sound like a very nice place.

"No? Well, are you sure? You would do VERY well in Ravenclaw, very well indeed, oh, what a mind…"

"No thanks," she said politely. "I'd like to be in Gryffindor, please."

"Very well," said the Hat reluctantly. "I suppose it simply must be—"

GRYFFINDOR!

Hermione was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn't notice everyone else had stopped moving until she crashed right into Ron's back. She hastily apologized, but no one seemed to notice. They were staring riveted at a pair of large, ornate doors set in the stone wall in front of them.

Each of them stood motionless, wearing identical looks of fear on their faces. Hermione slowly followed their lines of sight, her eyes finally resting on the two gargantuan creatures perched on pedestals on either side of the door. She felt a thrill of terror wisely remained motionless.

Bright, almond shaped eyes flickered in the bluish darkness of the cave. They were set within a smooth, feminine faces, attached to powerful, golden feline bodies. There was a soft clicking noise as they idly curling their menacing clawed paws, tapping their razor sharp nails on the marble pedestals.

Hermione swallowed. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she had forgotten the next part of the diary. She silently cursed Regulus for being vague, but also realized that it wouldn't matter, these creatures would not ask the same question twice.

The trial of riddles. Another delightful test of wit and learning devised by the illustrious Lady of the Glen.

Sphinxes.

000

AN: Slow Dramione. Slow but steady. He mocks her one minute but is genuinely concerned for her safety the next? (Even though he doesn't understand it or like to admit it.) If you look carefully, you can even see him jumping to her defense against her own friends! Ooh…of course, it could be coincidence—but it isn't! So there. I thought I would justify that, though I also feel that I should just let you figure it out for yourselves. So I'll shut up now.

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I moved into college and couldn't get my internet up, then my grandmother was sick and I had to leave school after two days…oy. I'll try to post weekly from now on.

Bill and Fleur's Wedding: Moved to the end of the summer due to war related security concerns. They decided to have it at Hogwarts in honor of Dumbledore. So it will take place, I didn't skip it. Just thought I'd mention that. It may get explained again in the actual story, but that's OK.

Thank you so much for reviewing! Yay! Keep 'em coming.