Hammond Wright stepped cautiously over the wrought-iron threshold, warily scanning the heavily armored figures guarding the heavy, silver door. He crossed the religiously trimmed lawn in three paces and made his way across the path, feeling increasingly nervous.
"My name is Hammond, Hammond Wright." he dictated clearly, almost shouting the words before he could lose his nerve.
The man to the left gave a small nod. "State your business."
Hammond gulped. "I… I would like to join the Brotherhood."
Silence.
The guard cocked his head. "Are you familiar with the terms and conditions?"
Hammond licked his lips. They were suddenly very, very dry. "I… uh… yes, yes I am." he managed to stutter.
The second guard gave a concise nod. "Follow me."
He tapped his hand against the door, a kind of a password. The several-ton metal gate swept slowly open with the slightest of creaks, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The two entered; the gate swung shut behind them.
Hammond gulped again. The furniture, the decor, the high, arched ceilings… everything about the place seemed gothic and unwelcoming. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here…
But it was too late for second thoughts now. The guard had pulled considerably ahead. Yelping, Hammond made after him, struggling to match the brisk pace.
"May I ask… where are we going?"
"All newcomers are initiated by the Prince."
Hammond's eyes widened at this. The Prince himself?! The guard caught his disbelieving gaze and chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself. You'll need to qualify first. I'm sure you've heard; the Brotherhood is a very exclusive group."
Hammond nodded. "Yes… I've heard that…" he muttered distractedly, gazing at the murals. Each stroke fell neatly upon each other like a row of dominoes, each complimenting each other to create a masterpiece of art. It was mesmerizing to look at.
"Picasso?" he asked, gesturing. The guard shook his head. "No; the Prince painted that himself. Enough questions."
They continued their walk in relative silence. The hall was unbelievably long, stretching at least a thousand feet. Doors and corridors jutted out of the walls at random places, giving the place a rather random feel.
Clop-clop-clop.
Their footsteps echoed through the hall.
Clop-clop-clop.
Beads of sweat began to pepper Hammond's neck as they approached the final door. "Do not touch." the guard said, placing his hand upon the frame quite hypocritically. Seeing Hammond's quizzical glance, he explained: "The door is DNA coded, a bit like Gringott's system. We can't have aurors breaking their way in, can we now?"
Hammond laughed a nervous laugh.
"Er… yeah…"
The door finally swung open, to reveal, quite anticlimactically, an empty hall. "This is our Room of Requirement. You will be tested here for the next month; all new initiates are. Every member of the Brotherhood must be loyal to all other members. Be warned: We don't handle betrayal kindly."