All bundled up, they opened the carpets covering the entryway and exited to the outside. They both gasped a little as the difference in temperature was sharp enough to steal their breath away. Inside the old abbot's residence was warm, but not so warm that one could take off all their winter clothing. There was still a bit of a chill. But it was obvious that it was still quite a bit warmer than it was outside. Shivering a little, Jane set off, giving a curt nod to Hermione to indicate where they'd be going.

For someone so short Jane Crocker walked awfully fast. That was the first observation Hermione made. She had been excited that she'd finally found someone shorter than herself, thinking that she'd finally have the benefit of a longer stride length. No more hustling after two long legged boys, no sir. She'd finally be able to walk with someone without have to practically run alongside them. How foolish she'd been.

Just like Roxy, Jane was seemingly filled with endless energy, though it wasn't the restless energy her blonde friend exuded. It was more focused, bound to the earth. Jane had a goal in mind for today's excursion; that much was sure. And it wasn't the spur of the moment goals Hermione had gotten used to - Roxy and Dave's "plans" were less like plans and more like happy accidents. She had a feeling that Jane had planned most of this little shindig, not that she would ever say so.

Her other observation was that while Jane was very friendly, she wasn't quite as chatty as her other friends. She was quite happy to walk quietly with Hermione, taking noticeably shorter strides so they could match gait better. All the while she silently took in the sights, her clear blue eyes wandering over the ruins that had at one time been a vibrant place of worship. She gave Hermione an encouraging smile as they walked.

"You know, whenever I go to a place, I always like to look it up beforehand," Jane commented idly, breaking the comfortable silence between them. "It makes it easier to connect when you visit, I think. You get an idea of the people who lived there and what they did. What it was like to live and breathe in a place in times gone past."

Hermione was reminded of when she'd first learned she was a witch - how she'd latched onto 'Hogwarts: A History' and read the entire book in almost one night. She smiled wistfully. "I agree. It makes everything more real."

"When we first came here, I tried to find out a bit about this place. Went to that little town down the way, Dumfries, I think it was called. We went right to their parish records office looking for a monastery. Imagine my surprise when not only didn't we find any records but when we asked the very polite lady in the office about them, she looked at us like we'd grown two heads," Jane said with a hearty little laugh. "Told us straight out that there wasn't a monastery in these parts and that there never had been. I'm sure she thought we were just a pair of crazy Americans, but it was a real bother, to be honest."

Hermione frowned, puzzling it over. "Really, no records at all?"

"Uh-huh. Even did an... um... well, it's this thing. Ugh. An internet search... you do-" Jane stammered, gesturing awkwardly.

"Yes, I do know what it is. My dad hasn't stopped talking about how it's going to change everything all last summer," Hermione murmured in amusement.

"Okay, well, we did one and got bupkis. We even looked up a list of defunct monasteries in Scotland at the tourist bureau... nothing at all. It was like this place didn't even exist."

Hermione looked at the distant shadow that was Hogwarts. "Do... do you think it's because Hogwarts is so close? That perhaps some of the charms and enchantments have made this place..."

"Invisible to normal human eyes?" Jane finished Hermione's sentence with a sardonic little smile. "Yeah, we considered that. Roxy and I even thought about going to that wizarding village near here. But then we realized that'd be a bust in more ways than one."

The young witch gave her a strange look of befuddlement. "Well, it seems to me that doing so would be the next logical step. I would have done it."

"You clearly haven't read the most recent issue of the Dumfries Standard," Jane said, pursing her lips as she pulled out the neatly folded front page of a newspaper. "Roxy... well, she stole it when we went into town last week." Taking the proffered paper, Hermione quickly read it, eyebrows rising in astonishment.

"Black's been sighted in that muggle village nearby?"

"Indeed," Jane confirmed with a heavy sigh. "We're all aware your Ministry is looking for him. So, Rox and I figured that two school age American girls wandering around asking questions about a monastery suspiciously near a wizarding school that no one outside of Britain should know about - well, that's pretty ding dang suspicious. Let's not forget, neither of us are wizards and wouldn't be able to hand over wands if asked. I assume they ask or would ask?" She titled her head to the side thoughtfully before shrugging. "Anyway, it all just added up to being one huge bad idea, so we nixed it."

"That's such a shame. It would have been nice to know more about this place," said Hermione, a bit crestfallen as she gazed over the ruins.

"O-HO! You think this gutsy gumshoe would throw in the towel so easily!? I am as tenacious as Monsieur Poirot. No mystery will ever get the better of me," Jane declared with a little hop in her step.

Hermione laughed brightly. "Is that so? I'm intrigued now; do tell me how you solved it, Madame Crocker."

"Roxy and I kinda, sorta, most definitely broke into Hogwart's library," Jane admitted sheepishly. "We started in the history section, obviously. We found a whole lot of nothing. All the editions were about fifty years old or less which I thought was rather surprising, all things considered."

"Why would that be surprising? A library ought to have the most current editions of all of its books, especially ones dealing in history."

"True, but a library as old as Hogwarts certainly wouldn't get rid of them entirely - like for instance, first prints or really rare editions. Look at the number of Shakespeare folios there are or the different editions of the Bible. If they have a special collections area in a non-magic library, it'd stand to reason that Hogwarts would be no different, despite being distinctly magical," Jane explained, gesticulating animatedly. "Not JUST a restricted section, but one specifically for rare books."

"You're right," Hermione breathed quietly. "You're brilliant! I can't believe I didn't know about..." she marveled, pausing for a beat, "it should have been in Hogwarts: A History. How could I have overlooked it? I've read that book dozens of times and there was never any mention of a rare books collection."

"I have some theories," Jane began, giving her a little sideways glance. Hermione was on tenterhooks, gesturing impatiently at her blue eyed companion. "Well, the innocuous explanation is that those books aren't there for students but for academics and other professionals; adults, in other words. It makes a whole lot of sense that they wouldn't trust students with their rarest tomes. But considering what I found out about this place, there may be a more insidious reason for it as well."

Hermione went quiet, her mind working quickly. The only other reason to keep something like this a secret would be because there was information in some of those books that was in some way dangerous, but perhaps not dangerous in the usual way, information that might threaten the status quo. She said as much to Jane, who nodded at her appreciatively.

"It took us a bit," Jane said as she wrestled with something in her large, patchwork messenger bag. "But we found this." She pulled out a thick leather-bound tome titled 'An Unabridged History of the Magical World' by Adelbert Fletcher.

Taking the book, her lips quirked up in a half smile. It was somewhat amusing to her that she only seemed to attract friends who had a penchant for breaking rules. Opening the book, she noted the publishing date listed in Roman numerals, MDCCCLXII - 1862. Jane had helpfully left a bookmark, an old receipt, so that finding the right passage was easier. Carefully thumbing open the book, she flipped to the appropriate page.

There have been a number of experiments over the years in merging the muggle world with our own. Perhaps the saddest of these is Midwich Abbey, now nothing more than mouldering ruins. It was founded in 897 A.D. by a group of disgruntled muggleborns who believed, quite incorrectly, that natural born wizards used their magic far too frivolously. Some have suggested that it was the precursor to Hogwarts; a ridiculous notion at best and one that I have dismissed out of hand.

These were suspicious times, and the founders of this institution were as vulnerable as the common blood they came from. Unlike their muggle peers, they believed their magic was a gift from god, rather than a curse. Moreover, they believed it ought to be used to benefit all mankind, whether magical or not, to spread their word view and promote peace where there was none. Clinging to these primitive beliefs, they refrained from using any spell defensive or offensive that would make their share easier.

They did have some semblance of wizarding pride. Rather than eschew magic entirely, they believed it ought to serve a useful purpose, not an entirely unworthy goal to be sure. While living in strict austerity, they peddled potions and cures to both wizard and muggle alike. They believed quite firmly that both muggle and wizard were equal in the eyes of god, which is, of course, pure foolishness and was borne out by the abbey's ultimate fate.

It ought to be noted that they had lived thusly for centuries before inevitably being found out. Of course it was only a matter of time. In 1692 the Abbey was attacked and unceremoniously burned to the ground by their muggle neighbors in a fit of superstitious pique over a poor harvest and the frequent illnesses of the town's children, blaming the very remedies that cured them. It was one of the last wide spread efforts to bridge the gap between the muggle world and our own, a tragic end to a failed experiment.

It was this attack that gave greater weight to those in favour of the Statue of Secrecy and secured its easy passage...

Hermione had to read the pitifully minuscule passage over again such was her fury. She wasn't even sure what she was angrier about - the bigoted pureblood tone or the fact that something this important wasn't in 'A History of Magic' - they hadn't been taught this at all.

"How could... how could they hide this from us?" She exclaimed, huffing indignantly.

Jane bit her lip and then grimaced. "It gets worse." Hermione's eyes flashed asking silently how it could get any worse. "Follow me."

They walked together quickly, stopping by a door just off the west side of the cloister. It was a very small room with a row of bright windows. The walls were blackened in places and deeply scored in others, leaving little doubt that something terrible had indeed happened here. Hermione gazed piercingly at the walls, remembering what she'd just read.

Glancing over at Jane, she asked demandingly, "The book said it was burned." Jane's incredibly blue eyes widened as she nodded slowly. No one could look at Hermione when she was in her highest dudgeon and not be a bit intimidated. "This doesn't look like damage from a fire. Fire damage is more uniform, especially when it's purposefully set. These look like blasts... like spell damage."

"That was my assumption as well," Jane confirmed grimly, looking at the young witch with not a small amount of concern.

Hermione was absolutely shaking with rage. They had destroyed this place and murdered its inhabitants because the abbey was at odds with the message the Ministry wished to promote. They had always been told that secluding themselves from muggles had been the only choice. But that was a lie and the evidence was born out by the walls of the abbey. She flirted briefly with the thought of revealing the truth, but quickly realized that she'd either be dismissed as a lunatic or silenced as the monks had been. The wizarding world had been built on this lie and there were those who wouldn't be keen to give it up.

Watching Hermione quietly, Jane touched her arm gently, looking into eyes glassy with tears. "There's something else," she whispered quietly, a small smile teasing her lips. "Something really good."

She could not possibly believe anything found in this place could be good. Jane walked into the room, which made Hermione gasp. It somehow felt wrong to enter, as if they were disturbing the dead. Jane turned around quickly with her hands clasped in front of her, her face all blustery excitement.

"See, when John and I found this place... well, it took me a minute. But I figured out what it was. There were remnants of ink wells and a few desiccated feathers" She gave a momentary pause, hoping the young witch would guess correctly as she had before. But she remained stubbornly silent. Frowning a little she exclaimed, "It's a scriptorium - a place where they made illuminated manuscripts!"

"What does it matter what they did here?" Hermione replied, her eyes roving the walls sadly.

"It always matters! Places like this are important. Knowing what happened... history is speaking to us here. Don't you see it?"

"I don't see anything but..."

"UGH! Besides the markings!" Jane scowled, making an exasperated sound. "Maybe it's because I played the Game with all its stupid puzzles that I see them everywhere. Look!" She commanded, storming over to the far wall and jabbing a finger at it.

Nearly lost in all the damage the room had taken was a small ornamental sculpture that looked very out of place in such an austere room. Hermione finally entered, walking slowly towards Jane - boots echoing loudly with every step. It was a trefoil and inside it was a lamb surrounded by lilies. She met Jane's eyes, knowing they were thinking along the same lines. This sculpture had obviously Christian overtones; pureblooded wizards would never understand the significance and no doubt overlooked it as another muggleborn oddity. Biting her lip again, Jane carefully grasped the sculpture and turned it. There was a series of odd thuds and a scraping sound. The wall fell away to reveal a small alcove and inside that alcove was a book.

"I wasn't able to remove it," Jane admitted with a little head nod. "I think it's protected. But it was nice to solve a puzzle that didn't involve plonking reptile skulls onto weighted platforms..."

Hermione could tell that there were protective enchantments on it; they were so strong that the hair on the back of her neck tingled. She knew she shouldn't reach in but she did anyway. Her fingers closed over the book and pulled it forward. Nothing happened. It was as if it had been waiting for her and only her to take it. Both girls let out the breath they had been holding the entire time.

Nervously glancing over at Jane, Hermione opened the elaborate, gilded cover. Inside was a revelation. When she was very young, long before she'd gotten her Hogwarts letter, she had gone to Ireland with her family. Her father insisted on visiting Trinity College to see the Book of Kells - he had always had a great love of art and he wished to instill the same love in his only child. She was only seven, so some of it was lost on her. But one of the pages displayed a profusion of swirling whorls and tight Celtic knots and between them wandered all manner of animals and hidden human faces. Her father had bought an expensive reproduction of the book on their way out. She used to spend hours looking at the pages intently, her eyes drinking in every detail. Those images were at once terrifying and fascinating.

The wonder of those moments were brought back in an instant. But here the whorls turned gracefully, Celtic knots twining around themselves endlessly. The animals seemingly imprisoned by the design moved freely between them while flowers bloomed or wilted at their leisure. The human figures blinked languidly as they gestured with impossible reverence - their gold halos illuminating the page quite literally.

Hermione realized all at once what this was. This place had been founded by monks and nuns. It was true that wizards had no set religion, but the people who had made this place had - they were muggleborns who had somehow reconciled their faith with their natural born talents. There'd be no question that like regular muggle monasteries they would have made illuminated manuscripts. But they would never be content with static, fixed illustrations. In true wizard fashion, they had made them come alive in breathtaking fashion. It was frustrating that she couldn't read a bit of it as it was all in Latin.

"This was their life's work," she whispered tearfully. They knew what was going to happen and had without a doubt not raised a hand in their own defense. Instead, they had hid their one true treasure in hopes that someday it would be found.

There was a part of her that dearly wanted to take it. The book was evidence, after all. But what could one teenage girl do with this, really. If she took it, there was a good chance it'd be destroyed, either purposefully or on accident. She might revere the hard work that went into making this, but her clumsy roommates would not. This alcove had preserved the book, the ink looked as bright as they day it was put to the page. It had kept it from the ravages of time and the destructive impulses of those who felt this place represented something dangerous. She quickly replaced it, carefully using the hidden lever to close the wall.

"You're not taking it?"

Looking at Jane's astonished face, she shook her head. "It's safer here, for now."

Noticing the young witch's demeanor, Jane was suddenly filled with regret. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said anything. This was supposed to be a happy occasion but I was so wrapped up in sharing the... history of this dumb place that I didn't think about-"

Hermione looked at her sharply. "No, I'm glad you told me. This is something that everyone should know. I'm angry that the history of this place has been hidden so effectively. But I can't be mad that you showed me what you knew." She gave a tight little smile, giving Jane's arm a light squeeze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jane replied, patting Hermione's back companionably. "We probably should get back. I don't even wanna know what those three goofballs might be up to without a qualified adult watching their every move."

They exited the scriptorium and started the long walk back to the abbot's quarters.

Neither of them said a whole lot - there was far too much to think about. Hermione's mind was a thousand miles away, so she hardly noticed that Jane had stopped cold. She was staring out at the courtyard, her mouth wide open. It took a second for Hermione to realize why. Following Jane's line of sight, he own mouth dropped open in astonishment.

In the courtyard there was an unimaginably huge sphere made entirely of snow. At first, Hermione couldn't imagine how it'd been formed until she saw Jane look up. Floating happily in mid-air was John, an equally enormous ball of snow being formed just above him. He was somehow using air currents to suck the snow from all around to fashion what could be described as a terribly small snow planet.

Tearing her hat off her head and throwing it to the ground, Jane's face went puce as she roared, "OH FOR CRIMINEY'S SAKE!" She clumsily crawled over the balustrade and marched into the knee deep snow in the courtyard. "JOHN NATHANIEL EGBERT WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING? I LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR TWENTY MINUTES AND THIS IS WHAT I COME BACK TO? GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

As she quickly knelt down to pick up the hat, Hermione was instantly reminded of Mrs. Weasley. She watched the display warily, absently clutching Jane's hat in her hands. Of all the powers she'd seen her new friends use, John's was the most terrifying and the fact that Jane was worried enough to shout that loudly was not a terribly good sign.

"Nah," came the distant reply. "I don't even have a middle name by the way."

"I JUST INVENTED ONE BECAUSE YOU MADE ME SO MAD TWO NAMES WEREN'T ENOUGH! " At this he laughed uproariously. This was unquestionably the wrong thing to do. "DON'T YOU DARE MAKE ME COME UP THERE AND GET YOU!" Jane shouted back, nearly hopping with the force of her fury. "WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING WITH THAT THING?!"

"Making a really huge ass snow man." This time his voice was a bit closer as he'd floated a few feet down, the snow planet moving gracefully with him.

"WHAT?! That doesn't even make any sense. It won't work," Jane reasoned, gesturing wildly. "You might defy physics but that doesn't mean the snow can."

"Jane, please. I know all about snowmen. I saw a documentary about how they make these huge sculptures made out of snow in Japan once. Don't worry. It's gonna be awesome," John explained patiently, waving his free hand at her dismissively.

Slapping a hand to her forehead, she wailed, "That's because they use water to freeze the snow to strengthen it, otherwise it loses cohesion!"

Sure enough, the other snow planet had begun to crumble on one side without John's windy power to hold it together. John ignored it. "This is totally gonna work. You'll see!"

Taking a steadying breath, Jane tried to argue, "No, John, they use blocks of snow that have been compacted tightly and they use water to freeze it. This snow is too loose; it'll just break apart and make a huge mess of everything."

"Haha! Nice try!" John laughed, floating up suddenly as he carefully guided his second snow planet onto the first.

"Ah, shit," Jane cursed, looking over at Hermione worriedly.

She ran, vaulting over the balustrade in one go. Grabbing hold of Hermione's hand, she whisked her into the air in an eye blink. Hermione barely even noticed they were floating above the courtyard. The sight of one snow planet colliding slowly with the other was too transfixing. The two snow spheres sat snugly for all of three seconds, before collapsing in a small avalanche. Once finished, it had completely covered up the area both Jane and Hermione had occupied seconds before.

"Wow, what a completely predictable outcome," Jane commented blandly as she carefully brought them back to earth. "It's almost as if someone told you it'd be a stupid idea."

"Huh, best laid plans I guess," John chortled, scratching the back of his head as he had not considered this particular possibility.

Once safely on the ground, Jane held out her messenger bag forcefully. "Hermione, dear, would you mind holding this for me."

It wasn't a question. Hermione took the bag meekly, looking worriedly at the dark look on Jane's face. John didn't seem to sense the danger. Kneeling down gracefully, Jane scooped up a handful of snow, balled it, and threw it in a single fluid movement with as much force as she could at John's face. This was also a possibility he hadn't counted on, but should have. The snowball struck him right on his cheek with terrifying velocity that literally knocked him off his feet. Suspended mid-air for a second, he made a soft "oof" sound before comically falling over into the snow. He lay spread-eagled on the ground, both his legs sticking straight up like flag poles.

Shooting him a dirty look, Jane dusted herself off calmly and straightened her clothes. "Let's get out of here before he gets his second wind. I'm in no mood for a prank war. I mean, I know I'd win, but I am NOT in the proper frame of mind for it."

Hermione did not argue with her.

Jane powered through the snow, even though in places it went up to her thighs. Hermione walked behind her, not struggling as badly thanks to Jane's trailblazing. As they trudged forward they could see both Dave and Roxy had hurried out to see what had happened. Roxy hand reached them first, looking over the apocalypse of snow with something between awe and confusion. Dave reached them second, surveying the devastation with raised eyebrows.

"What in the shit happened?" Roxy asked, stomping genially through the excess snow.

Dave looked back at her disbelievingly. "C'mon! This is clearly John's work. Big doofus is lying just over there with his feet stickin' out the ground."

Four sets of eyes gazed over to the area where John had last been seen. There was nothing left but the deep indent from his landing and unsettled snow. A volley of snowballs filled the air before anyone could properly register anything was amiss. Most of them went wild. Two hit the ground near Jane's feet. One hit the back of Hermione's leg rather pointlessly. Some hit the snow with a soft 'poff' that left little craters behind them. One hit Roxy right in the chest - cold, wet snow found its way between her scarf and skin. Holding her hands out, she let out a strangled scream, shaking her clothes out to try to relieve her discomfort. Another hit Dave square in the face. He stood there mutely as the snow slid slowly off his aviators that were hanging drunkenly off one ear. Taking them off slowly, he brushed the offending snow from them, and then his face and hair. With deliberate slowness, he put the glasses back on and glared at John murderously. Roxy wore a similarly dark expression on her face.

"You're a dead man, Egbert," Dave declared with deceptive calmness and then he leapt into the air spectacularly, disappearing in a whirl of clockwork motion.

A second afterwards, there were no less than ten Daves in the air. Each and every one of them hand a snowball in hand as they threw them at John in a chaotic barrage. John ducked and whirled like a dervish, waving his arms wildly to push the projectiles away with short bursts of wind. He wasn't entirely successful as many of the snowballs hit their mark. There were far too many Daves - all of them winding in and out in a coordinated dance through the timeline. John, realizing he was outnumbered, abruptly became the breeze, surrendering corporeal form temporarily.

The Daves in the air solidified to one singular Dave, whose feet hit the ground with a controlled skid. His hand flicked out and a long, elegant sword appeared in his grasp. Swinging the sword languidly, his entire body automatically assumed a defensive stance. His head tipped back and forth imperceptibly as he slowly circled around the courtyard; his movement was economical, precise as a Swiss timepiece.

Hermione knew without question that there was nothing real about this "battle". But she could also see that Dave had all the mannerisms of a practiced warrior and if this had been real... she shuddered.

She watched as his head suddenly snapped up, attention focused on the sky. John was there holding up another snow planet, though much, much smaller than the ones he'd originally made. He had what looked to be the world's most ridiculous sledgehammer in his hands. It was overlarge with a silly profusion of decoration on it and painted in the most hideously garish colors she'd ever seen. Lifting the hammer over his head, he struck the snow planet, sending it hurtling towards Dave at incredible speed.

The Knight of Time's knees bent before he shot forward to meet it, sword flashing in the dim winter light. He cut the snow planet down the middle. The two halves broke apart but before they could fall there was a blur of motion as he cut it into smaller pieces. Somehow he had grabbed some of the falling snow mid-air. Packing it into a ball, he hucked it at John who batted it away easily with a swing from his hammer.

They both hovered in the air for a few moments before throwing snowballs at each other in earnest. Whatever they'd been doing before it had clearly been only a prelude. With the feeling that they'd shown off enough they began to move faster, until they were moving so fast that her eyes had trouble perceiving it. It was all a blur of red and blue as snowballs whipped through the air at such speed that they had turned to glittering steam on impact.

Enraptured, she was so caught up in watching them that she didn't notice the tug on her sleeve. It wasn't until Jane shouted her name that she was able to drag her eyes away from the sky and the rapid fire snowball fight happening above her.

"We should go," Jane said and her tone was very firm. "Before they remember we're here."

"But-"

"Neither of us wants to be caught up in that nonsense," she insisted, jerking her head at the chaos happening above them. "Besides, you can help me with making the frosting for the cake!"

"What about Roxy?" Hermione asked as she was being nearly dragged toward the abbot's residence.

Jane guffawed loudly. "You should be more worried about what she has planned for those two buffoons. C'mon, it's freezing out here."

This chapter is a bit off the path for the story. It has elements I'll incorporate later but it's not essential for the main thrust. Hence why it's an intermission chapter.