Round 7 Celebrations around the World
House: Hufflepuff
Position: Muggle Studies
Story Type: Standard
Theme: Travel
Prompt: (First Line) Cathedral walls writhed and heaved as the gargoyles were roused from a millennia of static malevolence.
Word Count: 2412 words
Author's note: Thanks to my beta readers. Nothing too heavy in this work. Adventure-related peril, some minor swearing, and Mundungus is pressured to take a benign but not-tasty potion. Also fun historical fact, turns out not only medieval architecture used gargoyles but also ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Roman, often in the shape of lions.
Cathedral walls writhed and heaved as the gargoyles were roused from a millennia of static malevolence. Mundungus Fletcher, who had just been hoping for a relaxing and somewhat profitable continental vacation in Paris was knocked to the ground, losing his grip on the painting he had been trying to steal. The walls and floor vibrated around him, forcing him to hand onto a nearby pew for balance. The cathedral of Notre Dame did not take kindly to thieves.
Upstairs, the deafening crack of stone could be heard followed by the whoosh of air created by heaving, flapping wings. Through a window, he saw the stone gargoyles snarling and flapping their wings, moving slowly to the entrance.
"Shit. Shit. Shit," Mundungus cursed. He did not want to be here when those gargoyles found an entrance. He rather liked his limbs in their current orientation, thank you very much.
Only one thing to do about it; Mundungus abandoned the painting against the still-shaking pew, closed his eyes, and apparated.
Bill Weasley and his partner Cygnus Centius were working at the Temple of Luxor in Egypt. Both men scrambled back from the stone outcropping they had been working on as it started vibrating.
"What did we do?" Bill called out, confused. They hadn't even been doing any magic. Bill had been reading off the old runes written on a stone they had found while Cygnus had been noting them down. Nothing that should have set off any curse.
"I checked the stone before we got close, it wasn't enchanted," Cygnus said, catching his breath after a hard fall on the ground, I don't know how—" He was interrupted by a shabby man appearing in the middle of the temple floor, a look of unmitigated alarm on his face.
"Help!" he cried out, trying to hide behind Bill.
"Help with what? What's going on?" Cygnus demanded.
Bill interrupted, "I recognize you. You're Mundungus Fletcher. You're the idiot who's constantly causing issues for Dad and the rest of the Ministry. What are you doing here?"
Mundungus scrambled to his feet, albeit unsteadily given the still shaky floor.
"I had to apparate in a hurry," he explained, "Listen mates, I was on a vacation, visiting Paris and all and ran into a bit of trouble at Notre Dame. Had to get myself out in a hurry didn't I? Didn't have a whole lotta time to pick my destination; guess I ended up hereabouts."
"What kind of trouble?" Bill asked, suspecting Mundungus wasn't being entirely transparent.
"Well, nothing that serious. Just appreciating some art and set off the local gargoyles somehow."
"Appreciating?" Bill said, disbelievingly.
"Aye, I'm a big fan of medieval paintings," Mundungus insisted.
"Big fan of the money it will net you, I bet," Bill counted.
Cygnus had been looking increasingly pale throughout this conversation.
"You mean – you tried to – you stole art guarded by gargoyles?" he asked.
"They're just fancy rocks. And I weren't stealing nuthun," Mundungus insisted.
Bill glared at him and turned to Cygnus, "Would that have caused this–" The building gave an emphatic shake, "to happen?"
Cygnus went white, "It could have. A lot of gargoyles have enchantments on them that make them protect the buildings they guard and communicate with other gargoyles. And Notre Dame — in the middle of Paris — who knows how many enchantments he set off?"
A low growl emanated from the entrance to the room and the sound of stone clicking against stone echoed through the temple. Reflexively, Bill and Cygnus pushed themselves against the wall, dragging Mundungus with them.
"Be quiet," Bill ordered to the now-whimpering Mundungus. The sound continued growing louder. The stone head of a gargoyle with a lion head peered around the corner and seemed to sniff before deliberately entering the room.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no," Mundungus whispered. Bill felt his own heart speed up in his chest.
"Shut up," he whispered and looked at Cygnus. Cygnus was skilled in defensive magic and Bill trusted him with his life. If anybody would know what to do now, Cygnus would.
Cygnus pivoted and pulled his wand from his robes in a smooth motion.
"Petrificus Gargoleum," he whispered. The lion froze.
"Come on," Cygnus gestured to the exit, "That won't hold him for more than a few minutes and there's bound to be more." Gingerly, the three men snuck past the gargoyle and through several rooms until they came to one with an intact door.
"Ostium Claude," Bill said, and the door swung shut behind them. He turned back to Cygnus.
"What now?"
"They'll keep chasing us until they get what they want. Probably all the gargoyles here and any other ones they're in communication with. Not to mention the buildings will keep shaking. Who knows how much ancient magic will be released from that? Not to mention the structural integrity of the buildings."
"Until they get what they want?" Bill asked, with a meaningful glance at Mundungus, who was shaking and whimpering at the floor.
"Ancient magicians weren't big on mercy," Cygnus said, "at least not the ones who went around enchanting gargoyles to protect big buildings. They'll probably keep going until they kill him. Us too, if we're hanging around."
Bill ignored the wail coming from Mundungus, "Well, that's no good. Any way to break it?"
"I know a witch. Clever potions master from Italy, but lives in Greece these days. She has lots of experience with old ruins."
"Yes. Yes, let's go there," Mundungus contributed, a note of hope in his voice.
"You're still getting turned into the Ministry when this is over," Bill warned before turning back to Cygnus.
"If we leave the temple, all the gargoyles on the outside will see us. Can we safely apparate from in here?"
"It's going to be a bit of a trick, apparating all three of us when you two don't know where we're going, but there's no curses we found on the temple that should prevent it. Worst case scenario is we get splinched."
"Well, try to splinch him instead of me," Bill said, jerking his chin at Mundungus. Cygnus nodded and then grabbed onto Bill's arm and the scruff of Mundungus's robes. He focused and then the three disappeared.
The three arrived, all in one piece, on a cobblestone street in front of a white stone house in Athens. Bill oriented himself as he saw the Acropolis on a distant hill.
"France, Egypt, and Greece. You're really getting the world tour today, Mundungus."
Mundungus, who had been busy checking that he still had all his fingers and facial features, looked up in apparent alarm, but Bill waved him off.
Cygnus pulled a nutrient bar from his pocket and quickly transfigured it into a plate of baklava.
"She likes when you bring food," he explained. He knocked on the door.
The witch who answered was short, probably less than five feet tall with a hunched back.
"Cygnus," she greeted warmly, "It's so wonderful to see you. And you brought treats!" She picked up a bit of baklava and popped it in her mouth.
"It's wonderful to see you Stregamina, we were wondering if you could help us with some trouble."
"Come in. Come in."
The three men clustered around the kitchen table surrounded by pots and pans and a large cauldron on the patterned tablecloth.
"We've run into a curse we think you could help with, Stregamina," Cygnus explained. "This one–" He jammed a thumb in Mundungus's direction, "has activated a curse on some gargoyles in Paris and it followed him all the way to us out in Egypt. We need a way to stop it."
"This man is your friend?" Stregamina asked, disapprovingly.
"Not really a friend," Cygnus explained, "A low level criminal and a chronic thorn in the side of the English Ministry. He apparated into our worksite by mistake."
"If he's activated the gargoyle's curse, they'll want their revenge. Let them have it, I say, teach him a lesson."
Mundungus gave an affronted yelp. Bill decided he should step in.
"I don't dispute he might have it coming," he explained, "but he should stand trial with the Ministry. Can you help us?"
The witch sized him up. "Such a handsome friend you have, Cygnus! Very well, I'll help you. The potion you need is not complicated and I have the ingredients. Wait here."
She waved her wand and a trap door opened on the floor beside the stove. Stregamina scrambled down with surprising agility and the wizards could hear the movement of boxes below. After several minutes, she returned upstairs, her arms laden with herbs, frogs eyes, and shed dragon scales. She shoved a can at Mundungus.
"You, fill the cauldron."
Mundungus scrambled over to the sink and started working the old pump that delivered water to the kitchen. Slowly, he filled the bucket and transferred it to the cauldron. Under the careful eye of Stregamina, he repeated the process until the cauldron was filled ¾ of the way up. She then busied herself adding ingredients and stirring the bubbling mixture, taking intermittent breaks for a quick bite of fruit or baklava as she worked.
"Turn on the WizardNet, dear," she directed Cygnus at one point. Cygnus fiddled with the buttons on an old radio for some time until he reached a Greek channel.
Stregamina's face darkened with concern. Bill looked at Cygnus, but his partner shrugged. Neither understood Greek.
Seemingly catching on to their confusion, Stregamina explained as she stirred, "The gargoyles at the Acropolis are circling and there's tremors underneath. The local muggles think it's just a minor earthquake but it will surely get worse as long as he's here." She finished by pointing an accusing finger at Mundungus before dipping it into the potion. It steamed off her finger and gave off a sulfurous scent.
"This potion will convince any enchanted or magical creatures that it's the life blood of their target. We'll give some to this fool to hide the scent of life on him." She pointed at Mundungus, "Then I'll bottle up the rest. You three will need to go to the Acropolis, scatter some around, and make yourselves scarce. The gargoyles will smell it and think he's dead. They'll send word to their friends in Egypt and Paris. You understand?"
Bill and Cygnus nodded. Mundungus was eyeing the steaming concoction with suspicion.
"We'll need a bit of your blood to make it work," Stregamina said, "Come here."
Mundungus took a step back instead but was forced to approach the cauldron once given a firm shove from Bill. Stregamina took a drop of blood with a sewing needle and scooped a vialful of the resulting potion out and handed it to Mundungus.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Drink up!" she insisted.
"I'm not drinking that."
"Yes you are," Bill interjected, thoroughly tired of Mundungus's nonsense. "We're not letting ancient relics fall down because you're afraid of a little bad taste." Cygnus took an intimidating step towards Mundungus for emphasis and the thief relented and raised the vial to his mouth before taking the smallest possible sip.
"It burns," he complained, but drank the rest of the vial when he was met only with glares.
The voice on the radio was growing more alarmed with each second that passed. With Stegamina's permission, they took the radio with them and wished her well. Bill and Cygnus grabbed Mundungus by the arm and held a large pot of the potion between them before apparating away.
The potion sloshed as the three landed on the worn white steps of the Parthenon.
"The muggles are calling this a minor earthquake?" Bill shouted as he tried to reestablish his footing. He wished he had a broomstick; the ground threatened to open up and swallow them whole.
In response to the spilled potion, one of the gargoyle's circling ahead gave an ear-splitting shriek and began to dive down. Bill signaled to Cygnus and they dumped the rest of their bucket and promptly apparated again with Mundungus to the other side of the building to watch the gargoyle's dive.
"We need to get out of here," panted Cygnus, "before they realize he's very much alive!"
Bill agreed. Right now the gargoyles were busy smelling and clawing at the spilled potion but it would all be for naught if one turned around and saw Mundungus very much alive.
"There –" Bill pointed to a cliff overlooking the temple and the three apparated again.
"They're spending an awfully long time there," Mundungus fretted.
He wasn't wrong, Bill thought. It had been a solid three minutes as the gargoyles circled around the spot where the potion had landed. Were they suspicious?
"Look!" Cygnus pointed. One of the gargoyles had raised his head and gave a high-pitched scream before beating its great stone winds and returning to its perch, still as stone. One by one, the others followed. Bill let out a breath.
Cygnus pulled the radio from his pocket and fiddled with the settings for some time before he found an international news channel broadcasting in English.
"After a series of unexpected events spanning France, Greece, and Egypt it is reported that no further instances of quakes or gargoyle attacks are currently being reported. At WizardNet International, we'll be keeping a close eye on events and reporting any changes."
Bill and Cygnus let out a breath and Mundungus went limp with relief between them.
"That was an adventure," Bill whispered.
"No kidding; when they said curse breakers got to travel, I wasn't thinking quite this much sightseeing," Cygnus gasped. He gestured at Mundungus. "He's been to three countries in the last three hours."
"Four," Bill corrected, "He's going straight to the Ministry in London."
"I just helped you stop them!" Mundungus protested.
"No credit for that when you caused the problem in the first place. Bill, you take him to London and I'll meet you in a few days back in Luxor?" Cygnus interrupted.
"Sure, I'm going to take a few days to visit home if I'm going to England anyway." Bill grabbed Mundungus's arm, "Come on now, no more delays. Let's go."
The two disapperated. As Greece was left behind, Bill enjoyed a moment of anticipation. As much as he enjoyed seeing the world as a curse-breaker, there was nothing quite like an excuse to visit England and have dinner at the Burrow. He was looking forward to this.