A/N: Omg, I am so sorry to leave everyone hanging like that--but I'm kinda back on track now. Univerisity was crazy busy for a long time. Anyways, enjoy.
Harry breathed slowly. His aurors awaited his command, looking at him determinately. Harry turned to Jamie on his left.
"Let's go," he uttered, walking towards the large oak doors of the mansion. He pulled on the large brass handles, not really expecting it to be unlocked. Harry pointed his wand at the lock and relayed a spell to unlock it. A flash of white light slipped through the keyhole and Harry pulled on the handle again. It was still locked. Harry turned around to look at everyone else and they raised their wands in unison. They would have to unlock it together. Harry walked back so that they were all standing in a line. They all said the spell together and this time a great shaft of white light burst through the door handle and the door swung open. Cedric tentatively walked in, his wand pointing in every direction he looked. As the others walked in, a look of awe passed over all of their faces. They were standing in the midst of a colossal room, dimly lit by an ancient chandelier that hung over their heads. Withered candles sputtered in the draft that was leaking through the open door. The floor was white marble, streaked with flecks of black and grey. Victorian paneling lined the high walls, as aging wallpaper peeled at the edges. Directly ahead of them a large marble staircase led up to a second story, a dusty maroon running up the steps, which were poorly visible in the weak candlelight. Dark brown furnishings were placed around the room at their level and above them. Words in an unfamiliar language were carved beautifully into the crown molding lining the walls. A magnificent fire was roaring in a large hearth to their right. There were two leather armchairs sitting beside it. Joanne and Suzanna walked towards the left, where a large window was broken and partly covered by a dusty velvet curtain. Shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under their feet as the stepped closer. Joanne peered outside and saw Nick's lifeless form beside the wounded tree. The door, which was still open, swung shut with a deafening clang that made them all jump.
"Er, maybe we should all light our wands," Harry suggested. Everyone whispered lumos, and the room was suddenly brighter, illuminating the hideous creatures painted onto the large Victorian ceiling.
"Transylvanian Nymphs…" Joanne indicated, her eyes looking apprehensive, "do you think there's any here?" she asked the rest.
"Nasty little buggers they are, aye, but I don't think there's any of 'em here, they were all captured about two years ago—holding them in a place near Glasgow," Cedric grunted, his blue eyes narrowed and scanning the room rapidly. The room was magnificent, yet there was one crucial problem. There were no doors leading out of the room. No visible doorway or door, just the room in its entirety. Even the upper level was bare except for its wooden tables and chairs.
Suzanna looked quizzical, "but…how are we supposed to—to leave the room? There's no door anywhere," she exclaimed, feeling the walls for any sign of an opening. Harry rubbed his forehead, thinking hard. He looked up at the ceiling and something caught his eye—the words carved into the molding.
"The words…" he mumbled.
"What?" Joanne said, drawing up beside him.
"The words," Harry repeated, "the words on the ceiling might be a clue—but I don't understand the language, it seems to be made of English letters but—"
"It's Latin," Jamie stated, coming beside them, "I know some, maybe I can figure it out." He looked up and mouthed the words, which were carved in a medieval script.
"Amicitia , penetro , vos mos reperio haud obstaculum. Hostilis caveo , vestri cruor must exsisto duco," Jamie said, barely audible.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked.
"It means, Friends, enter, you will find no obstacle. Enemies beware, your blood must be drawn," Jamie said sullenly.
Harry racked his brain for any hint of recognition, "Your blood must be drawn…" he repeated and a faint memory washed over him. He remembered the last thing he had done with Professor Dumbledore, the cave they had visited, where they hoped to find one of Voldemort's horcruxes, and how Dumbledore had to smear his own blood on the door for it to open, "we have to put our blood on the door," Harry told them, explaining about his feat with Dumbledore.
After hearing his story, they all agreed and found a sharp fireplace instrument to poke themselves with. A tiny prick of blood was emanating from each of their fingers and they smeared it across the yellowed wallpaper. For a second nothing happened, then as they all waited for a doorway to appear, Harry had a chilling feeling that they were not alone. He turned around and let out a short gasp. The others turned around and instinctively pulled out their wands. They all stared at the menacing creatures, the Transylvanian Nymphs that had awoken and were coming alive from the paintings on the ceiling. They stretched their leathery black wings, arched their backs and curled their clawed fingers. As they started to descend towards them, their electric blue eyes widened, and in a flash, they streaked towards them, fangs bared. There were probably about twenty of them, all swooping down on them, blocking the staircase, from which Harry could see a door open above them. Cedric aimed a spell at one and it shrieked horribly, falling to the ground but getting back up again. In a matter of seconds, the room was filled with flashes of light, sounds of different spells and spatters of blood. One came charging towards Harry.
"Impedimenta!" He bellowed, powerfully, and it was thrown backwards into bookcase, piles of heavy books collapsing on it. Jamie was trying to get one off of his back, as it dug its nails into him and shrieked with glee. With a forceful push of his muscled body he backed up into the wall, crushing it in between. It fell off him and he pointed a spell at its heart, making it howl with fury and then fall lifelessly to the floor. Joanne pelted one straight through the broken window and it landed yards away. Several of them were motionless on the floor. Harry fought off two more, one of them leaving a long gash across his cheek. Harry saw Suzanna struggling with one in the center of the room. Its wings were beating furiously and its fangs were trying to inch closer to her neck. Suzanna struggled to throw it off, as her wand lay feet away from her. She managed to push it away for a fraction of time, during which Harry saw where she was standing.
"SUZANNA! RUN!" Harry yelled, at the same time shouting, "DIFFINDO!"
The great wrought-iron chandelier was ripped from the ceiling and it came careening down towards the dumbfounded nymph, splattering it all over the clean white floor.
Cedric, having just killed a nymph, yelled, "Harry! Go on! Get up the stairs an' go save the boy! We'll take care o' the rest!" he waved, motioning with his hands. The nymphs weren't blocking the staircase anymore. Harry hesitated and then bounded up the stairs, going through the open doorway to the right.
Harry's heart was beating fast, not knowing what was awaiting him. As soon as he stepped into the next room, his heart stopped and what he saw wanted to make him scream. Dragons. Masses of sleeping dragons, surrounding him. They were all sitting on gigantic, what could only be described as book-shelves, that towered towards the ceiling, which was twice the height of the last room. Dragons of every colour, type and all sorts of sizes. Harry recognized a Hungarian Horntail and three Chinese Fireballs. There were at least a hundred of them, all snoozing peacefully on their shelves. Small red ones, large opalescent ones, Welsh, Romanian, Chinese, Scottish and every other type you could imagine. There was nothing else in the room except for the towering bookshelves, the multi-coloured dragons reflecting onto the black-marbled floor. The only light source was a chandelier identical to the one in the previous room. The room was eerily still and quiet, except for the occasional flutter of a wing or twitch of a nose. Harry tiptoed forwards and in doing so, his wand dropped to the floor and the sound echoed off the walls. Harry squinted and bit his tongue, waiting for the beasts to wake up and mercilessly kill him. To his surprise, they stayed sleeping—not even one moved or opened its eyes. Harry was dumbstruck, why were they still sleeping? He thought that there may have been a different way to wake them, a spell perhaps—but he didn't wait around for it to happen. He hastily picked up his wand and rushed through the door open at the end of the room. The scene he saw when he walked in made his breath catch in his throat and his limbs freeze.