Johanna stood with the other Trolheim parents in the parking lot of the Sparrow Scout lodge. A light snow was falling, counter to Victoria Van Gale's predictions. The meteorologist had lost her magic touch after the destruction of her laboratory. Johanna knew why, but knew better than to share the information. The weatherwoman may have been foolish capturing the weather spirit and attempting to manipulate the elements for hubris and ratings, but she wasn't evil, and her reputation didn't deserve to be ruined due to a single error in judgement.

The portkeys arrived at ten o'clock exactly. Children, most of them slightly green from the unpleasant sensation of traveling in such a fashion, steadied their stomachs before running to their parents. Johanna saw Hilda and Harry saying their goodbyes to David and Frida and waved to get their attention.

"Mum!" Hilda jumped into her arms, "I've missed you."

"But you've been having fun, I've heard," Johanna replied. "Getting into adventures and making friends, you can't have missed me too much. Hello, Alfur. How're your reports coming along?"

"Very well, thank you," Alfur said from his perch behind Harry's left ear. "The elves back home are thrilled with them. They can't get enough."

"Glad to hear that. Hello, Harry, it's so nice to see you again."

Harry looked unsure of himself, but smiled at the woman. "Thanks for inviting me, Ms. Dahl," Harry said. "I'm sorry you had to deal with the Dursleys on my behalf. Did they give you any trouble? They don't really like magic that much."

"If anything, I may have given them some trouble," Johanna said, smirking. "Seems a tribe of Vittra trashed their house last week; they're spending Christmas in a hotel."

Harry grinned. "Thanks."

"No problem, now, you all have your luggage? My car's over here."

Johanna had purchased a new car. Gone was the old beige sedan, replaced by a large British all-terrain vehicle, its tires and undercarriage speckled in mud.

"That's the statue of the town's founder," Hilda said, pointing out the window. "Edmund 'The Troll-Slayer' Ahlberg. He built the walls around the city to keep the trolls out."

"I met a troll last school year," Harry said. "I can see why they built a wall to keep them out."

"Our Trolls aren't the same as your Scottish mountain trolls, Harry," Johanna said from the front seat. "They're made of stone and only come out at night. In the daytime they're just regular boulders stuck in the place where they stood at sunrise.

"They're not even dangerous," Hilda added. "They're just misunderstood."

"All creatures are misunderstood in your mind, Hilda," Johanna pointed out.

"Well, they are!"

"I'm only teasing you."

Hilda watched the street signs. "Uh, mum," she said as the street sign for Moomintroll Terrace came and went, "You missed our street."

"Oh, I sold the house," Johanna replied, hiding her grin.

"What? We moved again?" her mother nodded. "Well then where are we going?"

Johanna gave her an enigmatic smirk. "You'll see."

They passed through the city gate and were soon in the wilderness. At first, Hilda believed that her mother had rebuilt the old house in the valley, but they kept going, up and down the twisting roads of the fjords. At one point, the tarmac ended, and as the SUV rattled alone the deeply rutted path, she understood why her mother had purchased the Range Rover.

The woods closed in around them, and stags were spotted along the roadside, watching them pass from the treeline. Finally, their path was halted by a large stone wall and an iron gate, the name 'Dahl' writ large above the portal. Johanna got out and pushed the heavy gates aside, and they drove it. "What is this?" Hilda finally asked.

They rounded a bend in the road, and Johanna pulled the SUV to a stop. "Welcome to Dahl Manor," she said.

Dahl Manor sat at the edge of the cliffside, its solid stone walls, high battlements, and narrow windows providing more than adequate defense against both the North Sea storms and marauding Vikings. About a half-dozen chimneys sprung from the structure, and a stone tower sat high above the roofline, no doubt offering 360-degree views going for miles in fine weather.

"What do you think?" Johanna asked.

"It's amazing," Hilda replied.

Johanna smiled. "Your grandad sure is full of surprises, isn't he?"

They walked to the front door and entered. After shedding their coats in the dark, chilly hall, they passed through a sturdy oak door into a warm, cozy kitchen. The appliances were antique but well-made. Someone had installed electric lighting, the dim thirty-watt incandescent bulbs casting a warm glow throughout the room. A cast-iron stove burned pleasantly in the corner, a tea kettle warming on its stovetop. The table by the fire was set for three.

Johanna walked over to the stove and pulled out a roast pan. "Smells like we're in for an excellent dinner."

"Wait, if you were picking us up, then who made it?" Hilda asked.

"I did," a nasally voice said. Harry glanced down and jumped back in surprise. A small creature stood before him, dressed in a brown turtleneck sweater. Its face was concealed by a large mop of brown hair, save its bulbous nose. A long, thin tale snaked out from under the sweater, its end capped in a little brown puffball.

"Tontu!" Hilda cried, and pulled the creature into a hug. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"You're crushing me," the Tontu complained. Hilda released him and he staggered back. "But it's nice to see you too, Hilda," he said as he smoothed his sweater.

"Harry, this is Tontu. Tontu, Harry."

"Hello," Harry shook Tontu's hand. "Sorry to be rude, but what are you?"

"I'm a Nisse," Tontu replied. "A house spirit."

"Every house has a house spirit," Hilda explained. "They live in the Nowhere Space: the place in every house or building where lost things end up."

"You ever wondered where your remote went?" Tontu asked. "Or that extra sock? They turn up in Nowhere Space."

"So, if there's a Nisse in every house, how come I've never seen one before?"

"Nisse are generally distrusted by humans," Johanna explained. "The owner of a house has the ability to throw a Nisse out of their residence, so the Nisse tend to keep a low profile."

Hilda scowled. "People think that because all of their lost items end up in the Nisse's homes, then the Nisse must be thieves."

Tontu nodded his head. "We are of course mostly completely innocent."

"Mostly?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean, sometimes—who's hungry?"

"Don't change the subject, Tontu," Johanna said, but she smiled. "But the meal looks excellent, thank you."

After dinner, Hilda and Harry went off on their own to explore the house.

They doubled back through the kitchen and into the sitting room. Here, the antique furniture had been cleared away and replaced with items from Hilda's old house in Trolberg, including the comfy sofa and chairs, the TV set, and the record player. Behind the sofa sat an upright piano that, upon closer inspection, was charmed to play by itself.

Through a set of double pocket doors was the library, its floor-to-ceiling shelves groaning under the weight of its contents. A large writing desk occupied a corner of the room, its surface covered in parchments, ink bottles, quills, and atop all else a mid-century-style typewriter, a fresh page inserted into the carriage.

"Frida would love this room," Hilda remarked.

Harry nodded, "So would Hermione."

Alfur chuckled. "You'd never get them to leave."

"You're interrupting my reading."

Hilda and Harry turned to find someone sitting by the fire in a high-backed chair. It was a small creature, carved out of oak, its mouth frozen in a look of surprise, or was it exasperation? It snapped the book in its lap closed and stood up.

"Woodman!" Hilda said, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"I come here often," the Woodman said, pointing to an unlatched window on the opposite side of the room. "I didn't know this was your house."

"It was my grandfather's."

"I see. I thought this was my house."

Hilda crossed her arms. "Well, it isn't. You're welcome to drop by whenever you want."

"Did I need your permission?" the Woodman asked. He returned his book to its place on the shelves and brushed past the two children. "I can't concentrate. I'll come back when you're asleep."

Harry watched the creature leave. "What is that?"

"He's the Woodman, the Spirit of the Woods. Mum won't be too pleased to know he's made himself at home."

Crossing the entry hall, they found the drawing room. With its heavy leather-backed chairs, its billiard table, and its cigar humidor, it was the quintessence of a man cave. Against one wall was a locked gun-case filled with antique hunting rifles and shotguns. Evidently, the prior owners took great fun in sports-shooting, as everywhere else in the room the spoils of their labors were on full, gruesome display. Deer antlers and wolf-pelts lined the walls, and above the fireplace was the stuffed head of a salt lion, its face molded into a fearsome snarl.

Johanna found them there and noticed Hilda's disgust with the trophies. "Yeah, not the best room of the house. We need to get that stuff into the attic as soon a possible. I was going to offer them to Tontu, but he can't stand to look at them either."

"It's awful," Hilda said, frowning up at the salt lion. "Grandad studied magical creatures. How could he hunt them?"

"I don't think he did." Harry gestured to the nameplate underneath the salt lion's head: Magnus Dahl, 1911.

"Your grandfather wasn't the only Dahl that lived here," Johanna pointed out. "The house has belonged to the family for centuries. Your grandfather grew up here with his father, Count Magnus Dahl. He wasn't a nice man, from what your grandad told me. He left home for Hogwarts and didn't come back until long after Count Magnus had died."

"Where were you?" Hilda asked.

"I left home for university, then when your gran died, he leased the house in the valley and lived alone out here until he went off and disappeared." Johanna sighed at the memory. "I didn't see him again."

Through a set of french doors was a long, glassed-in terrace that looked out over the North Sea. Hilda looked up through the glass roof and frowned. "Mum, there's a light on in the tower."

Johanna and Harry craned their necks up to look. "Where?"

"I just saw a candle flickering up in one of the windows," Hilda said, pointing.

"Well, there's nothing there now," Johanna replied. "Maybe it was just the moon reflecting off the window."

"Or maybe it was a ghost," Harry suggested.

Hilda looked back up at the dark tower and frowned. "I know what I saw. Someone's up there."

"There can't be," Johanna said, "the tower stairs are in your grandad's room. I tried going up there when I first moved in, but the lock on the door didn't match any of the keys."

Johanna took them upstairs and showed them the door to Rasmus's room. Hilda tried the knob, then cast an unlocking spell, but the lock held firm. She looked up at her mother, who shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, if anyone can solve the mystery, it's you," Johann said, smiling. "Now c'mon. Let's teach Harry a game of Dragon Panic and go to bed."

They went back downstairs, leaving the locked door to be addressed another day.

The next morning, Hilda suggested they explore the property. Johanna made them a sack lunch and sent them off. "Just make sure you're back by dinner," she called after them.

They found a dirt path at the edge of the woods and followed it in. It led them along the cliffs, the sound of the waves pounding the rocks drowning out any attempts at conversation. Hilda stopped to throw some sandwich crumbs to the puffins. Within no time, they had a small line of the little birds waddling behind them. After a mile, they turned towards the woods. Hilda was glad she'd found a map in the library before they'd left. It had been charmed to show their location with a big red 'You Are Here' Arrow. "Something like that would come in handy at Hogwarts," Harry noted.

Eventually, they found their path blocked by a yew hedge. They went around it, only to find it was planted in a perfect circle. Hilda strained to look through the trees and caught a glimpse of stone. "There's something in there," she said. "If only we could get through."

"Diffindo," the cutting spell carved the beginnings of a path before them. Harry twirled his wand and grinned. "I'll lead."

They chopped their way through the yews, eventually emerging in a large circular clearing about five-hundred feet in diameter. At the center of the clearing was another circle, this one of large, upright-standing rocks, surrounding a hole in the ground. Hilda was about to investigate when Alfur tugged at her scarf. "Hilda! Don't cross the stone line; this is a fairy circle."

Hilda pulled her foot back just an inch from the line. "What happens if she crosses it?" Harry asked.

"Fairy circles are portals between our world and the world of the Fey," Alfur explained. "Once you cross into the circle you cannot leave without a fey's permission, and the Fey were more inclined to have some 'fun' with you first."

"Were?" Harry asked.

"They Fey died out hundreds of years ago," Hilda said. "Surely nothing would happen if I went in, then?"

"I wouldn't want to find out," Alfur said, looking at the circle and shivering. Twig approached the line cautiously and gave it a sniff. He backed off, hackles raised, and growled.

"This is a bad place," Alfur said. "Your father or his father probably planted that yew hedge to keep people out."

"Or to keep something in," Hilda said, looking at the hole in the center of the circle."

"I'm not so sure about that," Alfur replied. "Just as you need a Fey's permission to leave a fairy circle, the Fey need a human's permission to enter our world."

Hilda frowned and searched around for a pebble. Finding one, she wound up her arm and tossed it into the pit. She put a hand to her ear, listening for the sound of it hitting the bottom, but it never came. After about a minute of silence, Hilda shrugged. "Guess no one's home," Harry said, chuckling nervously. "Let's go."

They turned to leave. As they entered the yew hedge, something whizzed past Harry's ear and bounced off a tree trunk. The pebble fell and rolled to stop at Hilda's feet. She shared a wide-eyed glance with Harry. A moment later, they took off running.

After putting a good distance between themselves and the fairy circle, they emerged from the woods and into a rocky stretch of ground, leading towards a high promontory a mile in the distance.

"It's called Lightning Rock," Hilda said, pointing to the name on the map, then to the high rock. "From the top you can see for miles in all directions on a clear day."

Alfur looked up at the overcast skies. "Not sure how far we'll see today."

Hilda shrugged. "I still want to see what's up there."

They set off. Although the ground rose gently at first, it soon grew steeper and steeper. Eventually, they were climbing from handhold to handhold. Twig bounded ahead of them like a mountain goat, occasionally stopping high above them to give a look of disdain as if to say 'try to keep up'.

As they were about halfway up the slope, a crack of lightning struck the summit, throwing rocks down the hillside. They took cover, then looked up in awe. "Maybe we should head back," Harry suggested.

"I want to see where it came from," Hilda replied.

"It came from the sky."

"No, it was sent up to the sky and bounced back; it came from there." Hilda pointed to a ledge no more than fifty feet above them.

"I'd rather not," Harry said.

Alfur nodded in agreement "I agree with Harry, maybe we should turn back."

A second later, a snowflake fell, settling on the rock at Hilda's side. This was followed by two more, than four more. Within thirty seconds it was snowing pretty heavily, and visibility was dropping.

"Do you want to climb back down in this mess or go up and wait out the storm?" Hilda asked.

"Alright, but you first."

By the time they reached the ledge, it was in white-out conditions. Beyond the ledge was an opening, just wide enough to squeeze through. Hilda peered in. "There's a breeze coming out; that means there's another entrance."

They made their way through in the dark, hands fumbling against the walls. Eventually, they came out into a large cavern, on the opposite side of which was a jagged opening big enough for an elephant to fit through.

It was at the center of the cavern, however, that caught their attention. "That's a big nest," Harry said.

As they watched, a large dark form rose from among the sticks and branches, then spread its wings wide. "Who dares disturb the All-Powerful Great Raven?" It boomed. It then recognized the blue-haired girl standing before it. "Oh, hi, Greta."

"Hilda," she corrected.

"Right," With a flash of light, the giant bird shrunk down until he was the size of a regular raven and flew over to land on a ledge at eye-level with the kids. "How'd you find my lair?"

"We followed your lightning."

"Lightning? Oh, yeah, I have a cold. Sometimes I accidentally shoot off a bolt when I sneeze. Speaking of which, duck." With that, the Raven let out a massive sneeze, shooting electricity all over the cavern. "Sorry."

"You live here?" Hilda asked, picking herself up and looking around the cave.

"It's not much, but it's home," the Great Raven replied.

"I bet. Harry, this is the Great Raven, also known as the Thunderbird. I saved his life once."

Harry shook his head. "You have the strangest friends."

"Let me give you the grand tour." The Raven hoped down to the floor and walked over to the nest. "This is my boudoir. I wove some stolen clothes into the branches for extra insulation on these cold winter nights. Over here is my shiny collection," he led them over to a wall covered in bits of mirror, tin foil, and candy wrappers. "And over here is my million-dollar view."

It was a spectacular view. By now the blizzard had calmed to a gently if heavy snowfall. The ocean churned against the breakers and the cliff, shooting spray up through the opening. Harry noticed something in the distance. "What's that out there?" he asked.

Through the snow, an island could be seen about five miles out to sea. Hilda looked down at the map. "It says here it's part of our property, but it gives no name, only a warning: Here be monsters."

Harry looked out at it. "If only we could get a closer look."

The Great Raven nodded. "If only we could fly." He gave a start. "Oh! I can fly!" He smiled and shifted into his giant form. "Hop on, we'll take a little trip."

It wasn't quite like riding a broom, Harry thought, but riding a giant raven gave certainly was more fascinating. Hilda held on to his shoulders as the Raven rose and fall with the ocean currents, squinting her eyes through the oncoming snow. "We're almost there," the Raven said, beating his wings harder. "For some reason, the headwind is getting stronger the closer we get."

They could make out the island now. It was really just a chunk of rock, devoid of vegetation, and occupied by a stout, menacing stone castle.

"Do you think it's occupied?" Harry asked.

"I see smoke rising from the chimney," the Raven said. "But no lights in the windows."

It was then that Hilda felt a sharp twinge in her gut. Uh oh, the Voice said.

What just happened? Hilda asked.

We passed through a set of wards. Very, very strong wards.

What kind of wards?

The kind that alerts something to our location.

Hilda was about to ask what the Voice meant by 'something' when something appeared fifty feet in front of them. The Raven stopped short and hovered in place as he appraised the creature. "That's not good," he muttered.

The creature was tall and spindly thin, and glad in a ragged cloak. It raised a boney, rotting hand and pointing at the intruders accusingly. "What is that?" Harry asked.

"Dementors," Alfur replied in a hushed whisper.

"What?"

"Whatever it is, it has company," The Raven said.

Hilda swiveled her head around. More of the creatures had appeared and surrounded them on all sides. As the children watched in horror, the creatures began to advance.

Harry gave a gasp and clutched at his scar, moaning. Just as Hilda was about to ask what was wrong, it hit her. A devastating cold that filled her entire body, nearly stopping her heart.

I trusted you! I loved you!

I loved you too, but I can't let you leave here alive.

Then we'll die together.

Hilda shook her head, scattering the mysterious memories to the winds. "Raven, get us out of here!" she shouted.

The Raven dove, Hilda and Harry holding on for dear life as they fell towards the ocean before leveling out feet above the waves. They flew back towards the house, but when Hilda turned her head, she saw the creatures in hot pursuit and gaining.

Harry was still moaning, muttering something unintelligible in the wind. "Harry!" Hilda shook him. "You're having a nightmare! Snap out of it!" Harry swayed and then went into a faint, rolling off the Raven's back and plummeting towards the sea. "Raven!"

"I'm on it!" The Raven flew down and grabbed Harry in his talons inches from the water. By that time the creatures were nearly upon them. The Raven flapped his wings, unleashing a burst of thunder that struck each of the creatures, staggering them. But, to Hilda's horror, they seemed to just shrug it off, and continued to advance.

Hilda, I need you to trust me. The Voice whispered. Give me control.

"How will I know you'll give it back?" Hilda asked.

This isn't about the control, the Voice said, its tone fearful. This is about saving us from a fate worse than death. Now let me out.

Hilda took a deep breath and shut her eyes. When they opened, they glowed a fierce blue. She aimed it at the nearest creature. "Lumostella."

A blast of blinding white light shot from the wand, striking the creature full in the chest. With an ear-shattering, bestial scream, the creature exploded, its tattered cloak blowing off in the wind. The other creatures turned and fled back towards the castle.

"What happened?" Alfur asked, looking up at Hilda.

"I killed it," Hilda muttered before blacking out.

She woke up in her bedroom at Dahl Manor. Sitting up, she looked around in confusion. Her head ached and the cold permeating her bones was still there, despite the multiple layers of blankets and the roaring fire in the fireplace. Twig looked up from his spot at the foot of the bed and bounded over, happily licking her face. "I'm alright, Twig," Hilda said, patting the deerfox. She gave a shiver. "I think."

Climbing out of bed, she put on a robe and went out into the hall, as she made her way down the stairs, she began to hear fragments of conversation coming from the drawing room.

"What I'd like to know is what your daughter and her friend were doing trespassing on Ministry property," an unfamiliar man's voice said.

"No," Johanna's voice cut the man off, her tone short and frustrated. "I'd like you to tell me what a maximum-security prison is doing on my family's property."

"Ms. Dahl, your grandfather Count Magnus signed a thousand-year lease with the Ministry of Magic granting us the use of Azkaban for the aforementioned purpose. It's all completely legal and filed in the Ministry archive."

"We could have been warned. My daughter and her friend were nearly killed by those… those things."

"The Dementors were only defending the prison from intruders."

"They didn't even ask questions or give a warning," the Raven said. "They just attacked."

"...Did that bird on your shoulder just talk?"

"No," Johanna and the Raven replied in unison.

"...Well, in any case, the Dementors aren't known to ask questions before attacking. As I mentioned, your daughter and her friend were in Azkaban airspace and were therefore identified as an explicit threat. I'm afraid in an instance such as that the only solution for the Dementors is the Kiss."

Hilda pushed open the drawing-room door and walked in. Seated on the arm one of the leather chairs was an older man in a green pinstripe suit. Opposite him, Johanna stood, leaning against the billiards table, and stared at the man with a look of intense loathing. The Raven perched on her shoulder looked equally grumpy. They all turned and caught sight of Hilda. "Hilda!" Johanna ran over and wrapped her daughter in a ferocious hug. "I'm so glad you're alright. The Raven brought you back, and I was so afraid. How are you feeling?"

"Cold," Hilda replied.

"I find chocolate is the best remedy for a Dementor encounter," the man said.

Johanna shot the man daggers, silencing him, before turning back to Hilda. "Hilda, this is Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Apparently, the island you and Harry attempted to visit is a prison called Azkaban."

"And the creatures that attacked us were the guards. I heard you through the door." Hilda turned and frowned at the Minister. "Why would you hire monsters to guard a prison?"

"I don't see why that should concern a girl of your age," Fudge replied.

"Answer the question," Johanna growled.

"Very well. We found that human guards proved…all too human, if you'll pardon the expression. The Dementors are immune to bribery or threat, are nearly un-killable, and have the added bonus of sucking the joy out of anyone within a certain radius."

"That's horrible!" Hilda exclaimed. "Why would that be a bonus?"

"Miserable prisoners are generally too miserable to escape," Fudge answered. "In the time since we've brought in the Dementors, there hasn't been a single escape from Azkaban."

"I don't care how successful they are at their job," Johanna said. "They almost killed my daughter."

Fudge gave a dry chuckle. "Look, if you want to ask a Dementor for an apology then by all means do. I'm quite interested in seeing their response."

"I meant from the Ministry."

"If anything, Ms. Dahl, the Ministry could file charges against your daughter and her friend for trespassing. Such a blatant disregard for Ministry law could lead to expulsion from Hogwarts, or worse."

"Are you threatening me?" Johanna asked, face draining of color.

"I'm merely pointing out the legal consequences of your daughter's actions."

"Ms. Dahl?" The door opened again, and Harry shuffled in, deep circles under his eyes. "I was wondering if there were more blankets. I can't seem to get warm."

Upon catching sight of the boy, Cornelius's eyes went wide as galleons. "Harry Potter!" He leapt to his feet. "My dear boy, I'm so glad you are all right. The chill will fade, Mr. Potter, mark my words. Chocolate helps-would you like one? I have a few peppermint truffles in my pocket."

"You didn't offer me anything," Hilda said, sniffing.

"Ah, well, I only just remembered. Here you are, Miss Dahl."

"It would be rude to not offer your host one," Johanna said.

Fudge gave a helpless chuckle. "Yes, of course." He gave out his last truffle and turned back to Harry. "My boy, on behalf of the Ministry, I apologize for the behavior of our Dementors. They are in charge of guarding Azkaban—that's the island you and your friend Miss Dahl were investigating—and they aren't very good at telling an innocent trespasser from a threat, you see. The Aurors shall have a, ah, chat with them at the nearest opportunity." Fudge gave an exaggerated glance at his wristwatch. "Oh dear, well, I must go. I have to file this incident through the appropriate channels. I must also see to the location of our missing Dementor. Harry, Miss Dahl, would either of you happen to know what may have happened to it?"

"I vaporized it with Dark Magic," Hilda replied deadpan.

For a moment Fudge was gravely silent. Then he gave a thin smile and chuckled. "Haha, very funny, Miss Dahl. Thank you for your time, Johanna. I shall see that your family receives the appropriate restitution for your troubles." With that, he threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and practically dove through it headfirst.

Johanna turned to Hilda and cocked an eyebrow. "You vaporized it?"

Hilda cringed. "Just a bad joke, mum."

Hope this chapter was interesting. It was difficult to write, but the chapter was necessary to put in motion several future plot threads. What are those threads? Wait and see. I should have the next chapter out by Christmas. If I'm wrong, then send me hate mail. Remember to fave, follow, and leave a comment if you are enjoying the story. Thank you, and a Happy Hannukah.