2. Trolla-hlad
You are in a little maze of twisting passages.
- Colossal Cave Adventure
At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages.
- Philosopher's Stone
"Yes, I'm familiar with Hordgrund," said the Sorting Hat. "Odd arrangement, but rather straightforward. Goblins in town, trolls in the castle, never the twain shall meet, end of story."
"Perhaps not," said Hermione. "The Quibbler thinks the troll might have taken some missing goblins as slaves. I want to ask questions in Hordgrund, but don't know where to start."
"Then you want to speak to the goblin leader. They'll have someone in charge, like a mayor or alderman. He'll be used to dealing with humans. Mind that he'll probably be an elder, and therefore speaks Icelandic."
"We have the Lingus charm, remember. And how could we get into the castle to look around?"
"Oh, milady! After your experience with a mountain troll, you shan't want to walk into a forest troll's den! For that matter, you wouldn't want to fly over it, either. Forest trolls can be dull, yes, but they're very good hunters, and have even learned the arts of archery and trapping. They hunt the sky as well as the ground. I wouldn't recommend your going anywheres near the castle — even sneaking in."
"Oh? Are you implying there's a sneaky way in, if it became necessary?"
The hat grinned. "Well... yes, there is. But you would need Crowther's Adventure."
"Adventure?" asked Harry.
"It was a guidebook. When Elbert Crowther owned Hordgrund and the castle, he used the abandoned mines under the town as a rainy-day diversion for his visitors. He gave them a printed guide to the multi-level tunnels, and invited them to find their way through the maze back to the castle. The guidebook was a bit of a puzzle, thus the element of adventure. But if you followed it faithfully, it worked. Actually, Headmaster Dippet took the tour in his younger days — so, Professor Dumbledore might still have a copy of Crowther's Adventure in this very room!"
"Oh, fine," moaned Ron. "It couldn't be in the library, where Madam Pince could put her finger on it in a minute. There must be thousands of books and papers in this room! Forget it."
Yet another voice piped up near the doorway. "Hem. Uh, perhaps I might be of help in that regard."
They all turned, startled, and at first they saw no one. Then, the portrait of Armando Dippet waved at them, and spoke again. "Over here, young'uns. You're looking for my old copy of Adventure, are you?"
Harry recovered. "Yes, Professor. Is it still here?"
"Most certainly, Potter. I can see it from here, by Weasley's knee. Second shelf up, a thin red-leather volume, with a gold tassel down the spine."
"Erm… this one?" asked Ron, reaching for it.
"Precisely, m'boy. Fascinating trip, that. Are you lot going to walk the tunnels?"
"No way!" said Hermione. "Harry, you're a Hogwarts Triwizard champion; you have enough on your plate already. You don't want to injure yourself now, crawling around in some ancient underground tunnel. What if there was a cave-in? Are you going to dig yourself out with some charm I don't know about?"
"It 's for the good of the goblins, Hermione," sputtered Ron.
"Ron, the caves have nothing to do with the goblins."
"Oh, do you know that for a fact, really? Wouldn't it be funny if the Ministry was wrong, and the troll has the missing goblins working in the mines? I suppose you're positive they aren't there, Hermione? Or shan't we take a peek?"
"Ooooh, you two! Alright, take your tour underground, but on one condition: I'm going in there with you."
"We're so lucky. How are you gonna help us?"
"The hat says the book is a puzzle. You'll have to carefully read it to get through, Ron. Of the three of us, who reads best?"
"Oh… yeah."
"And bring a compass," said Dippet, before going back to sleep.
"A compass?" asked Harry.
-o-
On Sunday morning, Harry went to notify one more participant — one who could go get help if they got in trouble.
He finally spotted Hedwig snoozing near the top of the Gryffindor alumni observation tower at the Quidditch pitch. An informal match between Dumstrang visitors was in progress.
"Hedwig!" he shouted.
Hedwig opened her eyes sleepily, and was surprised to find herself surrounded by the zooming Quidditch players. Then, she saw Harry on the field below.
Hi, boss, thought Hedwig. Can't come right now. Busy airspace and all that. Definitely a hazard to life and wing.
"Hedwig, come now!"
Are you joking? With bludgers and humans flying in all directions? I'd sooner fly across Heathrow on a Friday afternoon.
"HEDWIG!"
Thanks, but I think I'll watch from here. Who's winning?
"Oh, for… I'm really, really sorry about this, but you can peck me later. Accio Hedwig!"
I wish you hadn't said that.
Hedwig was snatched off the ledge by the invisible hand of magic. She was whooshed, feet first, in a bee-line towards Harry. This is uncivilised, undignified and unnecessary! she opined. Hedwig hadn't taken an involuntary flight like this since the Ford Anglia ejected her cage.
Harry was almost bowled over when the two-foot-tall owl slammed into him, squawking and flapping. "Sorry, Hedwig. When I need you, I need you."
You know, I miss the old Harry, when you didn't know your Accio from your elbow.
-o-
"What's in the sack, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"I'll tell you later," he answered. "Right now, I just want to get the sack out of the school unseen."
"Are you giving it enough air?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"Because the sack is wriggling."
"It's fine. It's just being annoying."
"Harry! You don't have Hedwig in there, do you?"
"No, Hedwig stopped to check the post. She'll be here in a moment. This is just something to help us observe in Hordgrund."
She looked askance at that, but allowed Harry his little mystery package.
Hermione refused to pilot a broom by herself, and spent the entire flight clinging tightly to Ron with her eyes shut. Ron, who could usually be counted on to object to anything Hermione suggested, did not object at all. Harry carefully carried Crowther's Adventure and the sack; Hedwig the Navigator led the way.
Once within sight of the castle and town, they landed in a clearing. Ron had to peel Hermione's hands off, and reassure her that she could open her eyes, unwrap her legs from the broom and step off on planet Earth.
"Don't forget the hat, Harry," she said, brushing off her clothes.
"What hat?" asked Ron.
"The wriggling whatsit in Harry's sack! It must be the Sorting Hat. Who else would he call 'it'?"
"Oh, for... Harry, what's that old hat gonna do? Sing the troll to sleep?"
"Nothing," said Harry. "But it knows a bit about Hordgrund and goblins. It doesn't have to say anything — and you don't have to debate it, y'know."
"You asked permission to bring it, of course?" questioned Hermione.
"Erm..." said Harry, and smiled guiltily. "How could I have forgotten?"
"Right silly of me to ask. Sorry."
"Here's the Adventure book, Hermione. I'll wear the hat..."
The hat emerged from the sack. "I'd much prefer a hatbox over a sack," it remarked, "but that wasn't too bad a trip."
Harry put on the hat. "And here's our pocket compass." It was a very expensive-looking one, almost black with the patina of old silver left unpolished, 'borrowed' from Dumbledore's instrument collection.
Hedwig was left to guard their brooms while they walked the icy path to Hordgrund. They had a chance to see the castle from a distance, sitting on a hill in the middle of town. It was not nearly as tall and impressive as Hogwarts, but low and spread out, with good defensive walls. They also saw the causeway from the castle gate to the forest — the troll's private path, about 30 feet above street level.
"By the way, Hermione, I'm doing you a favour," chuckled Ron.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I'm working up a new name for your expanded organisation. So far, it's the Society for the protection of all goblins, humans and elves toiling incessantly."
She thought it over a moment. "All goblins, humans and... oh, very funny, Ron."
"What did I miss?" asked Harry.
"I think he's trying to change it from S.P.E.W. to S.P.A.G.H.E.T.T.I., but he's short one T word. Nice try, through, Ron."
"I'll work on it," said Ron, smirking. "Always here to help, Hermione."
Hermione cast the Lingus charm as they entered town. Even if the townspeople — er, townsgoblins spoke their native Icelandic, they'd still be able to chat with them.
The younger goblins seemed to be English-speaking, but the charm came in handy when they were directed to an elder named Boda, who headed the town council. Hermione introduced the trio and told Boda how she became curious about their missing citizens.
She couldn't resist mentioning her advocacy group, and promising to expand it to include goblin welfare. Boda was a good fatherly listener, nodding a lot, but made no comment on S.P.E.W. (or S.P.A.G.H.E.T.I.).
"If the missing goblins are still around here somewheres, can't they shout for help?" asked Ron.
"Have you ever heard a goblin shout, boy?" asked Boda. "Humans shout; goblins cannot. Goblins use horns and ravens over any distance. If they are without either in a time of need, they are lost."
Harry tried. "But... when a goblin leaves town, doesn't he take his personal raven along? Why not send the raven for help when the goblin gets trapped?"
Boda shook his head. "Again, that is human thinking. We do not possess the ravens; they are their own kind. We live among each other; we choose to befriend them, shelter them, hunt with them, and care for their injured and helpless ones. They choose to carry our posts as the owls carry yours. Goblins have no personal ravens."
"Has the troll ever threatened harm," asked Hermione, "or has he been seen trying to capture anyone?"
"No. This was my problem when the Ministry came to town. I could not convince them that the troll is an ever-present and unpredictable threat as he ages."
"But he must get around. Mustn't he chop a lot of wood to stay warm in that castle?" asked Harry.
"No. He enjoys one luxury of your world — the magical fires still burn that heated and lit the castle in its wizard days."
"But obviously, he still hunts, and cares for himself?" wondered Hermione.
"We still see him hunt, but less and less. He may be trading with other trolls for some of his needs -- but what does he have to trade? He carries live deer to the castle occasionally, so he may be impounding — fencing them in for his less active days, as he sees us do in the hard winter-times. He often hunts the sky; for both food and sport. Too many young ravens have been lost to his swift arrows —which is why we would warn you and your owls against flying over the castle."
"We stopped a mountain troll once," bragged Ron. "We could handle this git if we needed to."
"With what?" questioned Boda. "Your bare hands? This is no doltish mountain troll. Be safe, boy; do not underestimate him as a killer."
-o-
The Adventure book began by leading them to an overgrown path, where a heavy-looking iron grating was set in the forest floor. Ron was proud to show off his Wingardium leviosa charm again. The grating only rose an inch or so, wobbling, but enough so that they could shove it aside.
They climbed down a ladder to find themselves at the intersection of several tunnels, including another ladder going down. Consulting the guide, they found —
You are in a room at the base of a ladder.
To the North is a maze of twisty little passages.
To the West is a little maze of twisting passages.
To the East is a little twisty maze of passages.
To the South is a twisty maze of little passages.
Down is a passage of amazing little twists.
Up is the ladder to the grating.
Follow the little twisty maze.
"They've got to be kidding!" exclaimed Ron.Hermione sighed, exasperated as always. "Get used to it, Ron — the book's full of these. We have to concentrate and read them — carefully! The 'little twisty maze' is East. Now for the compass. Harry?"
"Um... East is that one," he pointed.
They followed that tunnel to another intersection, at which three tunnels had signs with more of the same confusing designations, but two had no sign. The booklet only said —
Follow the twisty passage of little mazes.
Ron chanted that mantra while turning about, reading the signs around him — and came up empty.
"It's not labled! So it's one of the two unlabled ones. How are we supposed to know which one?"
Harry tried a guess. "Because one of them is the one we came through — this one — and we know what that is, and that's not it. Right, Hermione?"
"Right!" she smiled. "I'll leave some Christmas treats on the floor to mark our return route, and I'll pick them up as we leave."
"Aren't you afraid that cave rats might eat them?"
"Not really. They're owl treats I bought in Hogsmeade — and I wouldn't be surprised if they're largely dead mouse. Let's be off."
The next room had signs simply saying East, West, and so forth, but not in the usual order. The instruction was:
Follow the correct tunnel.
The compass said the West tunnel was the only one correctly labeled. That led down a curving tunnel to another choice, for which the guide read:
Keep going the same way.
Unfortunately, they couldn't walk straight across the room, because there was no tunnel there — only left and right. They finally decided it meant to keep going west again, so they consulted the compass and went west.
The twisty paths and intersections went on and on, for about an hour. It included such tricks as tunnels with a slightly different name at each end, tunnels that doubled back through the same intersection twice, and tunnels that left vertically and ended horizontally.
They finally came to a room that was built of stone, and labled The Last Room. East, west and south tunnels were lit with wizard fire, still burning after a century. The Up and Down tunnels were dark. The book's command:
Be impoverished.
Hermione was finally stumped. "It's the last room, and the last page, so one tunnel is our exit. But.. impoverished? I know it means poor, but what...?"
"This way, Hermione," crowed Ron smugly, and started descending the ladder in the floor.
"How did you decide that?"
"Easy... 'cos poor is when you're 'down and out.' Follow me."
Sure enough, it led out through an darkened archway into a open courtyard. Hermione looked around for landmarks, in case they had to retrace their way to the tunnel. The eccentric Crowthers had placed signs over the various archways, inscribed with gibberish; theirs was XYZZY.
In the center of the icy courtyard was a deer pound, built around an overgrown apple tree. The high wrought-iron fence corraled two deer; after a brief staring match with the trio, the deer returned to eating what fallen fruit still littered the ground. The hat seemed particularly interested in this unusual sight.
Hermione turned to Ron and whispered, "I hope you noted, Ron, that there were no signs of enslaved goblins in the mines."
"You noticed that right off, did you?" he griped. "Happy now?"
Harry was more concerned about their health. "Okay, guys, we got through. I'd love to go searching the castle, but let's get back through the cave before the troll shows up."