'Control it!' The spirit urged as Hermione delved into her magic once more. 'No, no, you're letting the magic lead the way again. You can't let the magic control the spell in sorcery; that's witchcraft.'
Hermione huffed in frustration, opening her eyes and abandoning her most recent attempt to repair the damaged stones. She would have assumed, with a title like "high priestess" that her primary duties would be more public and impressive, that she'd be leaping into tricky and advanced magic. She'd been asked on the evening of the ritual, over a camp-style dinner under the stars outside, what she wanted to achieve first. It had been Lady Grindelwald that suggested rebuilding the ancient portal. After all, Lady Grindelwald reasoned, once there was a portal in place, she could visit more often to learn more,
Of course, there was a reason the intricacies of building portals had been lost. It was a closely guarded secret by those who knew at the time as the ability to teleport across massive distances was of huge value in those warlike times. The exact runes were well understood but it was the magic process of linking it to the all important other plane that was lost.
So that is what she was trying to achieve - trying. The family magic was no longer on the other side of that barrier within her magic, now it blended with hers and joined in on the casting of every spell. The family magic was like a living thing, intelligent and intuitive and it was incredibly easy to perform magic that was classified as "witchcraft". When she'd first tried to conjure a bed in hr lessons with Grindelwald it had been beyond her focus but other spells, such as conjuring the needle had been easy. She could simply picture a needle and her magic would create it for her. Now, even a conjuration such as a bed was achievable with minimal focus. The family magic would happily oblige and fine tune details she'd never thought to focus on.
Sorcery was another matter entirely. The whole point of this type of magic, she learned, was when spells became too complex for witchcraft and magic could no longer fill in the details, nor could her mind hold onto the details to force her magic into compliance. In this case, it was critical that her magic did not deviate from her instructions and followed the exact paths laid out for it in runes on the stone. The family magic and her own to a lesser extent, really wanted to do its own thing. Apparently, she had been giving it too much freedom and had been lazy in her everyday spell casting.
'Try again, Hermione.' Lady Grindelwald urged absently. She glanced at the older witch and raised a single brow in a move she'd been practicing in the mirror for months. The usually immaculate matriarch was sitting on a lichen covered rock, dark hair knotted into a messy bun and held with her wand. Tendrils escaped, hanging in locks around her face which was buried in a massive, ancient book. Her fingers were stained with ink and woad, her dress covered in stone dust where they'd spent the morning chiselling the runes back into definition on the portal stone. Despite being so unkempt, the matriarch looked happier and healthier than she ever had in the castle. Perhaps the weight of her position weighed more heavily that Hermione had guessed and the older witch presented as much of a front as she had when she had been Locum Matriarch.
With a resigned sigh, Hermione began again. Her magic jumped to obey, streaming into the runes and activating each set in turn - the series of protection runes first that would activate the barrow wraiths as a portal connected to it, wholeness of body; that was to keep the traveller in one piece, location runes to identify the location the stone was in, connecting and channelling runes...' This had been the point where every previous attempt had fallen apart. She had to draw her attention away from the runes for a while to connect the enchantment with the lay line beneath them and in that interval the magic always seemed to run away from her. She carefully monitored the amount of power that left her, making her that there was never enough left undirected for it to achieve any mischief. Finally, she connected to the lay line, forging a link between the two and she returned as quickly as possible to the runes on the stone. There was another set of protection runes, then a set to instruct the portal to close after a certain time, finished up with a group that was termed an "abbreviation". That was a set of runes that specified a series of actions that could be used to activate the whole assembly.
She shut off the flow of magic with a flourish and opened her eyes to see the misty gateway. It looked exactly the same as any other portal she'd been through, which could only be a good thing. Gorlois was casting diagnostics on it and the magic that trailed between his hands glowed different colours as each spell returned results.
'Everything seems to be in order. You'll have no excuses not to attend lessons here now.' He winked at her and Hermione laughed.
'We really must be returning now though, I cannot stay away for too long with Alice and her allies up to no good.' Lady Grindelwald had stood and brushed lichen stains from her dress as she spoke.
'War waits for no man.' Gorlois said sagely with a solemn nod. 'Might I request a moment alone with Hermione before you leave?'
Hermione followed the spirit back to The Barrow and down into the main room. She liked to think she knew every room by now - the library with Morgana's statue on the wall, the hulking figure of Galanan in the two armouries and the cluttered mess of the storage room which for some reason was the preferred gathering ground of the ghosts.
Gorlois took her to the treasury first. Hermione was not one of those girls that loved gold and riches; she never had been, and the casual opulence of Grindelwald castle had only further dimmed her concern. The Gorlois treasure trove was probably small in comparison, but every item was priceless just for its sheer historical value. There was an ivory box waiting on one of the many shelves and Gorlois handed it to her.
'Lady Grindelwald tells me you have a comb to represent your position as a ward of her house. You have the seal, but we have discussed it and wanted you to have something more visible to represent us.'
Hermione took the box and looked it over to find the opening. It was carved with a thick pattern of Celtic knots which seemed to wrap seamlessly around every inch of the surface. Eventually she gave up looking for a manual lock and ordered it to open magically. The knots unravelled, snaking and bunching back up into themselves. The box opened easily, the lid lifting off to reveal... her first thought was that they couldn't actually expect her to wear a crown, then she got over her initial shock and lifted it out of the box to look at more closely.
It was heavy, made of gold but inlaid with a dark stone, to that the gold was only visible as intricate Celtic knots. Most of the circlet was a band as wide as her finger, but over her forehead it flared out into a wide diamond shape onto which the wolf-dog had been worked. It fitted her perfectly of course and there were no obnoxiously glittering gems, no priceless stone. In fact, she could probably get away with wearing it everyday in the wizarding world if she felt so inclined.
It fitted perfectly of course and hummed with powerful protective charms. Her family loved protective runes - various family members approached her at all hours of the day to teach her their favourites. Once, she'd caught one of the skeleton guardians painting runes over an irritated Katana with blue paint and she hadn't missed that every area of blank space on his harness was now filled with delicate embroidered enchantments. The blue fluff stuck between the joints of the two guardians in their alcoves had been a rather strong clue as to the culprit. Initially she had found it annoying, but the practice had started to grow on her - she was their first magical child in centuries and they wanted her protected.
'Lady Grindelwald tells us you've been challenged to a duel, to take place before Yule?' Gorlois commented gravely. Hermione stilled; in all the drama of the last few weeks, she'd almost forgotten about the duel but now it rushed back to the forefront of her mind. She occluded quickly, suppressing the associated emotions before she could become too nervous.
'Yes.' She confirmed.
'There is not much we can give you to help. Lady Grindelwald has informed me of the conditions and we cannot equip you better that her house already has. We have several accomplished duellers among us, Mordred in particular is keen to assist you. He has requested you take him with you in the hopes that he can educate you.'
'Mordred? Wasn't he a bad guy?' She demanded quickly. The names of those around her often took different roles in the legends, but Mordred was pretty reliably the bad guy in every story. Gorlois looked more than a little uncomfortable.
'He was a dark wizard at the end of his life, but he began life as a good knight and was led astray by loss and anger. He is brave and knowledgable and hopes for the chance at redemption by being your teacher.'
Hermione was fairly certain redemption didn't quite work like that, but Gorlois seemed to believe it to be a good idea.
'How do I take him with me then?' She asked, looking around incase there was yet another bowl of woad somewhere; everything around here seemed to involve the blue dye. Gorlois watched her with bemusement, it seemed she'd missed something else that was common sense to him. She huffed in frustration, wishing he understood that in the normal, modern world, dead people stayed dead. He turned back to the treasury and picked up a long bundle wrapped in cloth. He didn't pass it to her, instead she stepped up closer and pulled aside the wrappings.
The bundle contained a massive sword. Unlike the swords she read about in stories, there was no gold on the hilt or scabbard and no massive gemstone in the pommel. Instead, there was a very well worn, knotted leather strip wrapped around the hilt and an equally scratched and dented piece of plain steel as the pommel and cross guard.
'I don't understand?' Hermione eventually announced after a thorough inspection of the blade. She couldn't draw it of course, it was only slightly shorter than she was and she doubted she could lift the blade even with both hands.
'You'll have to undo the wrappings around the hilt to see the exact runework, but I would advise refraining until you know the proper way to re-wrap them. Spoiling a knight's sword is unlikely to create a good first impression.' Gorlois chuckled. 'Now, let's not keep your Matriarch waiting. You can introduce yourself to him when you get home.'
She was bustled up the stairs with hardly a chance to wave goodbye to the spirits she'd met. Lady Grindelwald was already waiting with all three mounts saddled and a bulging, book-shaped sack strapped behind her saddle. Hermione had no idea how the woman had managed to talk the very protective ghosts into releasing even a single item from their knowledge hoard. Gorlois strapped the sword behind Hermione's saddle, then gave her a leg up onto Katana's back.
Their departure was quick after that. It was, as seemed to be the way in Scotland, foggy so they only had to walk past two cairns before the Barrow was out of sight. The portal was in the opposite direction to the ritual circle but at roughly the same distance, and was definitely not worth flying. Their hooves squelches wetly as they walked and the pack horse mewled in distress as it wandered sideways and sunk up to it's knees in the bog that bordered the track.
'Lady Grindelwald?' Hermione eventually asked once they'd carefully extracted the Granian's delicate legs. The older witch turned in her saddle and Hermione nudged Katana up behind her. Katana was much taller than the Granian, so she found herself in the unusual position of being on an almost equal height to the high witch. 'What is a high priestess?'
'I suppose you need to understand the difference between the coven and your following. A coven must be formed of thirteen and it allows us to perform more powerful rituals than we would separately. In essence, it creates a bridge between our magics that we may cross as required. As the leader, I have no more real power than any other in the circle; it is, in essence, a position that may be removed at any time.' Hermione nodded, she'd read most of this after Anneken had asked to join her coven.
'Now, a High Priestess is the leader of a Sect, which is different to a coven because those who are part of the Sect share their magic. Any one of the members can call on you for assistance, and you in turn can direct the entire collective power, using any member as the conduit. It has, of course, fallen out of fashion because very few witches and wizards wish to bind themselves to completely to a single individual.'
They had pulled their horses to a stop by the portal and Lady Grindelwald opened it for them with practiced ease. The two witches rode through, hair whipping wildly around them and emerged into the familiar, snowy hilltop of their German home.
Katana, recognising that they were almost home and within minutes of his warm, mud-free stall, spread his wing and began flapping impatiently and Hermione had to harshly rein him in as Lady Grindelwald swung from her mount.
'Be still, Katana.' Hermione hissed as Lady Grindelwald's face scrunched in concern. Peering at the snow in the same way as her Matriarch, Hermione finally saw what had immediately caught Lady Grindelwald's attention. The multitude of prints in the ground was not unexpected, considering the number of people that had arrived at the castle, what was unusual though, was that a significant number of them were fresh, and all of the fresh prints were heading in the direction of the castle. That meant, Hermione realised, a significant number of witches and wizards had arrived who had not left the same way that morning. Ergo, the arrivals were not among those who had been welcomed into safety several weeks ago.
'I want you to take the mounts back through the portal to Orkney.' Lady Grindelwald instructed sternly. 'Everything we can afford to leave behind, leave. Carry everything we cannot. If they are able, ask them to care for the mounts, then return and wait for me.'
Hermione nodded and took the reins of both Lady Grindelwald's Granians. In a blast of wind, she was standing once more on the misty moors of Orkney. She trotted the beasts back along the track to The Barrow where Gorlois was already waiting, flanked by a pair of skeletal guards. His face was deeply etched with concern.
'What happened?' He demanded as Hermione swung from Katana's back.
'Invaders at the castle. Lady Grindelwald suggested I leave the mounts with you so that we can proceed on foot.'
Gorlois looked over the beasts and shrugged.
'We can.' With his assistance, Hermione removed the harness and luggage from their beasts, splitting most of it into a pile that could remain. One of the skeletons reappeared with three ornate halters and a strap of leather which Gorlois used to strap Mordred's sword between Hermione's shoulder blades. He insisted that she wear the crown with its powerful protective enchantments, but the box remained behind. Lady Grindelwald's staff was then hung crossways over the sword, and everything else was deemed unnecessary.
The skeletons lugged all of the gear down into the Barrow whilst Gorlois walked Hermione back to the portals. The soundtrack of Katana's mournful shrieks echoed all the way to the standing stones and less than an hour later, Hermione was crawling back through the portal to the snowscape of Blau Berg.
Lady Grindelwald arrived half an hour later, dress grubby, twigs in her hair and a grim expression on her face.
'They've surrounded the castle, but it looks like the wards are holding them at bay. We need to get back inside and find out what's going on.'
That sounded awfully difficult to Hermione, but Lady Grindelwald seemed unconcerned as she took back her staff and led the way into the woods. The undergrowth was mostly clear and dry, frozen branches crunched beneath their feet as they made their way down the hill. They kept clear of the path and kept an eye on the sky incase anyone flew overhead. They remained undisturbed as they reached the river and turned left, following it down the valley.
Hermione didn't recognise the waterfall until Lady Grindelwald stopped and begun to take off her boots. The mossy curtains had frozen into jagged, icy teeth and the water bubbled like a dark potion between the frosted rocky spines that made up the shore. Reluctantly, Hermione copied here, removing her boots and knotting the laces together around the hilt of the sword on her back.
The water was freezing and she had to stuff her fist into her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Lady Grindelwald helped her walk against the powerful current and together they plunged through the glacial waterfall and into the darkness of the cave behind.
The matriarch was quick to cast drying charms over them and their sodden, heavy clothes and both women quickly pulled their boots back on.
The silvery ghosts that had thronged the cave last time were still present, stirring with silent agitation as the two witches passed through. They were muttering ominously, but their words were unintelligible and they fell silent as the witches passed, watching them with dark eyes before breaking out into agitated muttering again. She could see now why they were 'impressions' rather than the spirits of Hermione's family - they had far less substance than the other ghosts both in appearance and magical presence. Collectively, they were powerful but individually they were barely a whisper.
They passed the large stone where Hermione had been initiated into the family last summer and later the three brightly glowing handprints that marked the three living family members. She took a brief solace in the pulsing heartbeat of Gellert's hand before hastily following Lady Grindewald's fading witchlight into the depths of the cave.
It narrowed quickly before coming to an abrupt end. A pool of water had gathered at this low point but Lady Grindelwald stepped unhesitatingly out into it. The older witch walked out along the inky surface, unaware of Hermione's slack jaw. Why hadn't they done this with the last bit of freezing water?
Eventually she gathered herself and followed Lady Grindelwald across the water... ah, there were actually massive stepping stones just below the surface, there was no fancy spell work involved. She hopped cautiously across the expanse, and reached Lady Grindelwald on the last stone before the back wall.
'Is that sword of yours sharp?' The matriarch demanded and Hermione shrugged.
'I imagine. Nothing else down there seemed aged.'
The older woman heaved the sword from it's scabbard in a motion which almost sent the young witch tumbling from the stone and into the water. It gleamed in the witchlight, the edge was worn but lethally sharp.
'Smear some blood on the wall.' Lady Grindelwald instructed and both witches cut their hands on the razor edge before wiping the blade off on their cloaks and returning it to it's sheath. They smeared their blood across the stone, then Lady Grindelwald stepped off the last stepping stone... and straight through the cavern wall.
Hermione's eyes bugged before she followed quickly. A cool feeling passed over her, and when she opened her eyes again she stood in a distinctly man-made tunnel. It was damp with slick slime growing over the walls and spongy dirt coating the floor.
The small entrance narrowed even further at the base of a long, dark flight of stairs.
The climb was very long with a small room every hundred steps of so where they could catch their breath. When they finally reached the top, an old wooden doorway blocked the way. It opened with a squeal of hinges and the two witches emerged, blinking, into the dim light of the dungeons beneath the castle.
They hurried up the staircase and bust into the bright entrance hall, surprising a pair who stood guard over the locked floo room.
'Lady Grindelwald!' The one on the left cried in relief, after taking a moment to recognise the wild and grubby woman.
'Yes, where can I find the coven?' She demanded. The two men shared a look that sent ice pooling in Hermione's stomach.
'In the South Tower, Mi'lady. You're not home a moment too soon.'
Hermione tailed her matriarch into the tower and froze in the doorway. She had expected twelve, but only four figures stood around the chart table.
'Where is everyone?' Lady Grindelwald demanded, horror plain in her voice.
'Arika and Rose are being seen by healers, the others...' Herr Friedl trailed off.
'The others were captured. We were led into a trap at Tunninger House.'