Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Chasm

Chapter 4

The Arctic

Harry and Hermione landed hard, nearly falling, and unable to keep their footing on the frozen scree. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as her feet went out from under her, only to feel a set of strong arms grab her around the waist and haul her up before she finished her slow decent.

"Thanks," she muttered, embarrassed and chagrined that her first appearance in a male dominated environment would be that of a weak female.

"Don't mention it." Hermione heard Ronald's voice and turned in alarm, at first confused and then angry.

"You are going to freeze. It may be June, but up here that just means the lakes may not ice over," he laughed, handing her a heavy ankle-length fur kaftan to go over the lighter weight one she wore, split up the back and open in front. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"Harry, I told you to check on her." He scowled and pulled his wand, slicing an opening in the back of her lightweight kaftan from hem to arse.

"Stop…you idiot. I have to take this back to the museum."

"What for? It's all show, that or they thought it was wrong and tried to repair it. Here," he tossed her a length of rope, "use that to cinch your rubakha, its too long, tie it and then…blouse it up, make it short enough to…Harry." He nodded to two figures that were just materializing ahead of them, and pushed Hermione behind him, hissing at her to hurry and fix her clothes as he shielded her.

"I am Ivan." A stocky wizard dressed as a Cossack stepped forward, nodding curtly. "I take wands."

Ronald handed his over first, stepping back as Harry did the same, and let out a breath of relief when Hermione surrendered hers without question.

"We verify identity." Ivan spun on his heel and walked back to stand next to his travel companion. "You wait."

They spun out of sight, leaving Hermione to scan the horizon. Turning in a complete circle, she could see the horizon in the full 360 degrees. "Where would he think we could go?"

"For that matter, where the bloody hell are we?" Harry questioned.

Ronald laughed and shook his head "You two amaze me. Give you a portkey and off you go with no idea where you'll end up. It's the Putorana Plateau, northern Russia."

"It's north of the Arctic Circle," Hermione whispered. "You've heard of Norilsk? It's to the south."

"Yeah, I've heard of it," Harry clenched his jaw and looked around suspiciously.

"It's mostly closed up now," Ronald shrugged. "I was down there this past winter."

"When?" Hermione tore her eyes form the landscape and studied him, taking in his unshaven face, this rough dirty clothing and scuffed boots.

"Don't worry about it. I went alone," he said flatly. "They found a…a locket…more like a talisman in one of the mines. Strange that, a locket with a chip of bone inside. It was a simple matter really, only…they have this aversion on anything non-Germanic in that hell hole, even when it comes to breaking curses."

"Christians used to carry around pieces of bone that they claimed came form their saints, it may have been something like that. So what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, with an edge to her voice that he recognized well.

"Hermione, he's the one that convinced them to…"

"You told him?" Hermione spun on Harry, levelling him with one of her glares that always made him feel like a guilty twelve- year old.

"No, Luka Ciszekov sent me an invitation when he saw that it was my wife that was requesting a meeting with him. Women are not allowed here, nor are Muggles, he is making this exception because …just try not to blow it."

"And you know him how?" Hermione blew into her hands to warm them and looked around at the surrounding. "It is bloody cold up here."

"Ron has done work for him," Harry said, pulling off his gloves and handing them to her.

"Don't bother," Ronald waved him away. "I bet she has everything we may need for a month tucked in her pockets or hanging around her neck but she would never bring herself a pair of gloves or a …hat. Geesh, now what have you done?" He snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

Hermione's hand flew to her head as her cheeks flushed. "Shut up."

"Wouldn't say a word, I've learned," Ron chuckled as he enlarged a pair of gloves and a square-flat-topped fur hat.

"So, did Harry tell you what we are looking for?" she muttered and tugged the hat over her head until her ears were covered. .

"Yeah, yeah he did," He looked over Hermione's head to where Harry stood. "Don't expect much. They are more distrustful than they were ten years ago. Now they blame us for the last conflict. Voldemort being British, they see us, or rather the British greed, as the cause. They have a habit of rewriting history to suit their needs. Just don't talk about the war. Look, they're here, it's a good sign. First time I waited an hour."

Hermione turned back to see Ivan and his companion riding across the plateau, three horses in tow. They came quickly, far more quickly than Hermione had ever seen horses move, and these seemed to take the scree in stride, surefooted and with no hesitation.

"They're beautiful," she breathed, and silently watched until they pulled up sharply in front of her.

Ivan dismounted, handed her the reins of the smallest of the three horses, and curtly nodded before returning to his own mount. Exhibiting a false confidence, she put her foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle, smiling and looking at Ron when she understood why he had put a slit in the back of her kaftan.

"You. Ride." Ivan barked out, looking at her from under heavy brows.

"Is that an order or a question," Hermione muttered, wrapping the reins in her hands, trying to remember her childhood riding lessons, both of them. Lifting her head to Ivan, she saw a hint of a smile on his face and felt her own face break into a grin.

With a sharp whistle, the horses began to move as one, following Ivan across the wasteland, north, further into the cold landscape. They rode for a full hour before the horses changed directions and slowed from their break neck speed, stepping slowly over looser ground than even the frozen scree. Hermione tensed, feeling the horse's reluctance to move forward, and craned her neck to look back over the shoulder at the others.

"Here!" Ivan dismounted and slapped his mount on the rump, watching it run off, followed by the others as each rider joined him on the ground. Walking forward he moved his arm in a arc, high over his head, dropping the concealing ward, and allowing them their first view of Durmstrang.

They suddenly found themselves standing between two rocky outcroppings, the plateau falling away in front, leaving them standing high above the Arctic sea as its waves crashed into the shore hundreds of feet below them. In the distance a castle stood, alone and imposing on a frozen wilderness island.

"Now the scary part," Ronald stood behind Hermione, resting his hands on her shoulders and whispering to her.

"It's breathtaking," she choked, before she turned her head up to look at him.

"Ready?" He grinned at her, as he took her hand, leading her between the boulders and onto the bluff, and kept walking out, over the bluff into the air.

"Ronald!" she gasped, as she saw they were instead walking on a hard earth en path, leading up to the castle. "Wait."

She pushed him back and searched for Harry, running to the end to the path, away form the castle, finding herself in a deep valley, no sign of the cliff or sheer drop off they had just crossed.

"Where is he? How…?"

"This is my third time here," Ronald said, a smile tugging at his lips. "I still get a kick out of it. Don't worry about Harry, he saw something different, it's part of their security system."

"Wh…how …" she spun around confused, and ill at ease at how easily they had been separated. "So this is all a big optical illusion?"

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "This isn't, but the cliff, yeah. I am not sure how every thing here works, it's all for show. This place isn't only un-plottable, I don't think we could find it again if we had the entire Ministry and all its spells behind us. Since the war, it is as if they're on lock down. Wizards could find this place before, but now…they're a little over protective."

"The entry…was it a ruse? This far north there shouldn't be this kind of woodland." She nodded toward the south where the edge of a large expanse of woods stood.

"I don't know," he admitted. "That must be their answer to the Forbidden Forest. I've never thought about it, they must have creatures that need it."

"I want to see the bluff, the…"

"Hermione, there is no bluff."

"Oh, well…the rocks we walked between. The boulders, can I see them for the air?"

"One thing at a time," he said, taking her arm and pulling her toward the castle. "Listen, as much as you are going to dislike this, here you will go by Mrs. Weasley, unless they call you differently just shut up about it."

"Bugger off," she said evenly. "I will…"

"You will do as I say or you will find yourself back up on that plateau. You'll find you do things their way or you are not even asked to leave, you are just gone."

Just then the massive doors to the castle opened, "You. Come."

They were led directly to a room that contained only three beds lined up on one wall. Hermione gave their guide a small nod and politely accepted the accommodations that she knew they had hastily arranged for her. After listening to the directions to the nearest loo, and a warning that she must be escorted by one of her companions at all times, she shut the door and rolled her eyes.

"Now I need help getting to the loo."

"No, you need me to go in and make sure it is empty. Would you rather sleep in one of the dorms and share a common urinal?" Ronald laughed at the look of disgust on her face and the red flush that crawled up her neck. "Trust me, they only have four sleeping rooms, and a couple of hundred snoring comrades is not my idea of a pleasant night's sleep."

"You have to be kidding," Hermione fumed, reading the list of rules the upperclassman had given her before he warded them into their private quarters. "Have you read this?"

She turned to the door that opened as Harry walked in, and then shoved his copy of the rules in his hand, fuming about the injustice of how they treated woman as he tried to get comfortable.

Harry sat of the floor in the corner, pulling his fur wrap closely around him, draping one end over his head. "It is bloody freezing in here. I thought no fires meant no candles."

"Pratt," Hermione sniggered, walking closer to one of the hovering globes of light to read the parchment again. "You have to admit it is safer. Hogwarts is mostly stone, but look at this place. The must have cut down an entire forest to built it."

"And colder," Ronald said. "They claim it toughens them up. After all, comfort for women."

"It says here the warming charms will be used only between the hours of …noon and six." She looked at Harry who shrugged his shoulders under his wrap. "Does that mean we do our own or that there is already one in place. Because we either need our wands or they need to learn how to throw a warming spell that works. And read the rest, we are not allowed to talk to students, and we…"

"We won't be here long enough, Hermione, quit. You wanted a broom ride to see the grounds, that's all you're getting," Ronald said tersely.

"That and the library," she mumbled, taking in the rest of the list. "I am not allowed in the halls or common rooms unattended and I'm not to leave the first level at all and remain appropriately dressed at all times. Great, they made rules just for me, I am honoured. What? Do they think I would walk around half naked?"

"Here it comes," Ronald quipped, looking to Harry for support.

"It's an all male school, and you are a female Muggle," Harry said flatly. "They only consented because your husband was insistent."

"Muggle-born," she corrected. "I wanted to see the path we came in on and the library. This just says a broom ride, nothing about the books."

"The outcropping? I thought the same thing," Harry grinned. "It looked like a bloody portal from one of your pictures."

"Do you think…Kanaz? It would fit. A path to knowledge, creativity, harnessing power? Maybe they did have a meaning, it seems fitting here."

"A portal, like the one at the Ministry?" Ronald frowned. "Only…this one you can…"

"What?" Harry looked up, still shivering. "I need my wand."

"… get back from," Ronald finished, turning to study Hermione. "So it is not runes that you are interested in."

"Yes, well…sort of," she mumbled. "So, Harry, how much did you tell him?"

"She thinks the runes…are portals of some sort. There, I told him."

"What? Like on that cheesy telle show?"

"No," Harry laughed. "I let him watch a couple of things on the telle. He used to think every thing he saw was real."

"They have this…this circle, covered with runes…and they line up the markings…"

"You let him watch Stargate? You are an idiot," she grinned and shook her head, "you know how he gets. Ignore him. I am sure they all exist, or at least did at one time. That's what we are here to find out. If I can prove it, we will have the key to languages yet to be deciphered. Just think of all the things we can learn."

"How many have you found so far?" Ronald said, flopping on the edge of one of the three beds. "Bloody hell, this is like a rock."

"Two." Hermione pressed her lips together. "Maybe one, we can't be sure about the one that we just passed through, or the one at the Ministry until we examine it."

"So none," Ronald said, feeling his lip twitch. "You haven't changed at all, you know that?"

"Shut up, Ronald. I didn't ask you to come. I didn't even know you were coming, if I had I would have…"

"That's it," Harry struggled to stand, dragging up his coverings with him. "If we plan on getting out of here before we have to sleep on those bloody rocks we better find out what's keeping them. And if you two don't stop I'm going to hex you both."

"Good, do it. Start with her," Ronald said under his breath.

"He can't," Hermione shot back at him. "We still don't have our wands back, and anyway it's arse holes and idiots first."

"Mione, please," Harry said exasperated.

"Sorry, but sometimes he can just get on …" she started, only to stop talking as the door opened.

"We go." A student, dressed in a long fur Kaftan stood, holding two brooms.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled and reached out to take one.

"You ride with husband." He nodded curtly and strode down the hall.

"Great," Hermione muttered. "Come on, Ronald."

The ride was brief, the only thing to see the schools roof and the frozen tundra as far as they could see. Ronald flew in ever-increasing circles until they could make out the shape of the rocky outcropping they had walked past. Hermione tapped his shoulder and leaning forward tried to convince him to lower the broom only to receive a flat refusal and a stern look form Ivan.

They returned to their rooms where a plate of cheese and sausage awaited them, with curt instructions that Hermione would not be allowed in the dinning hall until the evening meal. Harry stepped in front of her and announced that he would gladly stay behind with her, as Ronald smugly grinned and walked off, leaving them alone. She began to complain until she saw Harry's frown, then sat down heavily on the bed and accepted the luncheon offering from him hand.

That night Hermione sat enraptured at the display of sheer power and magic, remembering the show at Hogwarts, she now knew that what she had seen before was only the display of children, not by masters in their art. Resisting the urge to clap her hands, she followed the lead and slammed the side of her fist on the rough tabletop showing her approval when the display ended in an explosion of magic and fiery rain.

"Wonderful," she said, turning to smile at Ivan as Ronald kicked her under the table she turned her smile to an appropriate frown, wanting to kick him back.

"You. Come." Ivan demanded, and strode to the middle of the room that suddenly cleared as the students and Professors moved chairs and tables to the outside walls, then stood forming a circle around them.

Hermione followed him, glancing back at Harry and seeing his nod of encouragement. She caught the staff Ivan tossed to her, surprised at its lightness.

"Training staff," Ivan smirked. "You lift." He used one hand to lift the staff up, placing the base in the palm of the other, suspending the wand horizontally in front of him on his palms, pleased to see Hermione do the same.

"Wand for women," he said flatly. "You fight like woman?"

Hermione glanced back at the table where Harry was resting his face in his hands and Ronald was looking ill.

"I duel the same as all witches and wizards," she said firmly.

"You go Perthro, you fight like man. Duel no good."

"Perthro?" Hermione stumbled on name of the familiar rune, letting the staff back to the ground. "I…I am looking for …"

"In woman is Hagalaz. You fight."

"You can show me? The…the runes."

Ivan studied her face and shook his head slightly, as if not understanding. "Runes for books and magic inside."

Hermione puzzled what he was telling her when he slammed his fist into his chest, then pointed to her. "Hagalaz."

Suddenly understanding she nodded as the realization that they saw the magical properties of the runes as influencing their lives. She, a woman would have the guiding influence of Hagalaz, and the turmoil of war was Perthro.

"The dark one sought but did not find." He nodded at her staff and waited for her to once again lift it before showing her the next move.

"The dark one?" She lifted the staff as she had before; studying his face as his staff swung at her feet and in an instant she was on the floor.

"You try again," he grinned. "I teach."

"Do that again and I hex," she muttered climbing to her feet amidst growing laughter.

"Yes, yes…you hex, like woman." Ivan smiled widely.

He came to stand behind her, reaching around her to guide her hands and body in the proper movements, then again took his position opposite her, nodding to proceed. Not having time to consider what she was doing, she was sitting on the floor before she knew the duel had started. The third time she winced as her backside slammed to the hard wooden floor, but on the fourth she scraped her staff across the floor in a wide swatch, knocking Ivan off his feet before she rolled off her now bruise arse..

"Wanker," she muttered, climbing up slowly.

"Good, good!" Ivan sprang up quickly. "Now, in air."

"What?"

"He is telling you to make the same sweeping movement. Listen. Try to see it as a chess game. This is your space. Don't worry about him, only three meters on each side. That is your space. You own it. You control it. Pretend the space in front of you is the board. See the space as ranks and files, control the diagonals. Don't focus on him, control the space," Ron said into her ear, as he repositioned her hands on the staff, but lowered her arms a little. "Your centre of balance is in your hips, not your shoulders like a man's. You have to adjust your stance. Now, keep the staff level with the floor and control the space. One more thing…don't move your feet or he'll knock them from under you again. He is teaching you to stand and fight, not duel."

She nodded as she felt Ron step back and focused on a point half way between her and Ivan, planting her feet apart and prepared to strike. Ivan's staff had not yet rested in his hand when she dropped her right arm and spun the staff, feeling the centrifugal force add to its momentum, and snapped her wrist at the moment of impact, hitting Ivan squarely on the upper arm.

Using one hand to smack the staff into a half spin, he twisted his body out of the staff's path and aimed for her thigh, hitting his mark and again throwing her to the floor.

"You do good," he said solemnly, reaching down a hand to help her up.

"Yeah, thanks. I think I've had enough for now." She blinked back tears and forced a smile, refusing to let anyone see her cry.

"Wife of Curse Beaker must learn," he scowled, turning to glare at Ronald.

Ronald understood this was not Ivan's personal opinion. This was what was seen here as a gross breech of etiquette, not by Hermione, but by him. Nodding his agreement, he grabbed Hermione's elbow and guided her back to the table. They sat through a number of toasts as the never-empty bottle of vodka refilled their glasses, which Harry silently transfigured to water, earning laughter from Hermione and a frown from Ronald.

"Bloody hell," Ronald tossed his wrap on the foot of one of the beds, adding a warming spell to the room when they finally returned. "The dark one? Voldemort was here?"

"He would have been Riddle back then, only Ivan's not that old. Who do you think he was talking about?" Harry scowled. "What the fuck did that mean? What was he looking for?"

"Dark magic? What would he want with…runes?"

"Not runes," Hermione rolled her eyes. "If Snape was here he could mean him. Only nothing in the notes says he was."

"Okay, whatever you want to call them…portals? And they would have referred to him as a professor or called him Master, like Harry here is the Auror. Titles are important to them. No, they meant Voldemort, I am sure of it."

"Like you were sure of your Stargate movie?" Hermione snorted.

"Why not?"

"Did you hear that muscle-bound git? Wands are for women," she spat. "Do you fight? Indeed! I thought he knew who we were. I thought he would have known what we've done!"

"You saw them," Harry quipped. "We use wands. Must seem kind-a…weak to them."

"We have all the same spells, Harry. They just show off, they think it gives them an edge. I am going to be sore for a month. I thought that last trick of his was going to split my leg wide open."

"Think about it," Ron said evenly. "He told you that was a training staff. Can you imagine the real thing? And they do use wands. They just prefer the more manly show."

"Gods, I should have stayed down the first time."

"Sit up here," Ronald said, pointing to the bed and tossing her his outer Kaftan. "Cover up and drop your trousers."

"Turn around," she muttered, undoing her belt.

"Bloody hell, it's nothing I haven't seen."

"For the last time," she said tersely, the waited until he and Harry faced the wall to do as Ronald had said.

"Okay," she said once ready, watching Ronald's eyes go directly to the angry red and quickly darkening area on her thigh where Ivan's last blow had landed. "Told you he was showing off."

"Put a machete or blade in his hand and you won't think it is showing off." Ronald sat on the bed studying Hermione's face, then turned his attention to healing her. "Down in the Sudan they still fight that way, at least the older pure bloods do. Not many left, but I tell you…it is awesome."

"They don't use magic?" Hermione hissed at the sudden pain that radiated down her leg as he expelled the wound, returning her leg to normal. "I think we would have heard of that."

"Bill introduced me to a mullah, he…"

"A muslin wizard? The two seems at odds."

"Mullah… umm, master, teacher, learned one…steeped in law…there the magical law of their community." He frowned at her then suddenly brightened. "We celebrate Christmas."

"Good," she tried not to laugh at the look on his face. "When did you meet him?"

"Does it matter?" he said sharply. "All of a sudden you are interested in what I do? If you want to lay on you stomach I'll take a look at…"

"Forget it…" she said quickly, and heard Harry's snort.

"Fine, have fun sitting. Anyway, what did he want?" Ronald stood turning his back on her. "In the hallway, when we were leaving, what did he want?"

Hermione pulled up her woollen trousers and placed her hands on her hips, looking back at him coldly. "He said he could train me. Seems he thinks it is reprehensible of a Curse Breaker that lives in danger not to teach his spouse defence."

Ronald snorted in disgust, and turned to Harry of support. "That's a great idea. Harry?"

"Not now, Ron. Hermione, you said yes?"

"Of course I did," she glanced quickly at Ronald before avoiding his eyes. "He is coming to London at the end of the month anyway. He says his days are free so it seemed like a good idea."

"Brilliant!" Harry grinned. "Remember how Moody could just hit the floor and send ten wizards flying? Awesome."

"Yeah, bloody brilliant," Ron muttered. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Umm," Hermione mumbled, "I am staying the night. You run along, Harry can stay with me."

"No, I don't think that is a good idea," Harry said softly.

"He said I should see something. See one of the pictures in the library."

"A picture of what?" Ronald spat. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you he had etchings in his room."

"Raidho, he said it's the name of the place an ancient seer came from. He said it was she that told them to build the school here."

"Raidho?" Harry blanched and flopped back down on the bed.

"I know," she grinned. "I felt the same way. What if it is all real, Harry? What if they…"

"No, it just means they have their traditions, like we have ours, it means nothing," Ronald spat.

"That may be," she agreed. "I didn't come all this way to quit, and if I leave without trying to find out what they have here, that's exactly what I will be doing. Anyway, Ivan should be here to collect me as soon as he gets clearance to take me upstairs."

Hermione was not only delighted to see the picture, woven into a tapestry, but could barely hide her excitement that it was hung in the library. Trying to keep her eyes on the faded rendition of the story of Drumstrang, she knew she had failed miserably when Ivan leaned down and used his hand to turn her head back the hanging.

"You look closely," he frowned, pointing to the lower right corner.

Hermione coloured slightly from his stern reprimand and walked to the area he suggested she study, sucking in her breath when she saw what he had meant to show her. She went down on the knees to see the depiction of a circle, not unlike what she had seen on the Plains of Salisbury, only these monoliths in the shape of runes.

"Ivan?" she said his name as a question, looking up at him from her place on the floor.

"One for each place of learning," he frowned, tapping his staff to the likeness of what she had seen at the Ministry. "Yours here."

"And the rest?"

"Lost. France, Brazil, Tibet, many lost." He squatted down next to her and pointed to three of the monoliths that lay on their sides. "These lost to people now gone for all times. It is foolish legend."

"Ivan, do you have any books on the legend. Old books, most likely scrolls, written before your school was built?"

"Children's stories," he frowned, standing up and looking at her suspiciously.

"Yes, yes…I agree…I am…I am putting together a book about the foolishness the ancients thought of our world. Your legends could be invaluable," she lied easily, hoping her face did not give her away. "It should be required reading for all first years. We need to teach them not to put their faith in such nonsense."

He slammed his staff on the floor, illuminating a sparsely filled shelf on one of the cases set against the far wall. "Two hours. Bedtime. I come collect."

She merely nodded as he spun on his heel, leaving her alone. Running to the light, she didn't even take the time to carry the books to a table, but fell on the floor pulling the first of eight tomes into her lap. Cursing the fact that she did not have parchment and quill, she began to read.

The first book she found was old, but well known. The Prose Edda and the following two parts were nothing more then Old Norse tales of afterlife and the worlds of gods. Hesitating as she thought of the twelve gods and twelve goddesses, wondering if there was any correlation to the forty-eight runes, she set the book back on the shelf and reached for the next. Surprised that Durmstrang would have a book about Egyptian burial rights she none the less flipped it open and scanned the index, seeing only the normal chapters she would expect to see in any book of this type. She began to close the cover when her eyes fell on a title that had her quickly flipping to page 208 for the description of forty-two gates the dead had to transverse to be judged by Osiris.

Strange, she thought, looking at the remaining books, that these are considered books for children. Returning the book on Egypt back to the shelf she only had to glance at two more and return them unopened, knowing stories of fairies and dragons would be a waste of her time. Three tomes covered the history of the school, which she lingered over thinking of The History of Hogwarts and wished she had more time, and then quickly slid them back on the shelf, and grabbed the last and final book. Seeing type set print and a late publishing date the book on runes contained the same information as all texts in Hogwarts, only here they were put in a rhyme to make them easier remembered by children. With a deep sigh, she pushed it back with the others, and picked up the oldest history of Durmstrang.

True to his word, Ivan took her back to the room on the lower level, grimly shaking his head and frowning at her repeated pleas for more time. As soon as he closed the door on her, she hurried to Harry and shook him awake.

"Harry, you should have been there. I didn't have time to look at anything worth while. Harry? Are you…"

"I'm up, I'm up," he grumbled. "Merlin, Mione, do you ever sleep?"

"No, she stays up just to irritate the piss out of me," Ronald's voice called out from under his fur covering. "Bloody hell, I'm still cold."

She pulled off her kaftan and tossed it over the lump that was Ronald with a snort. "Too used to the Sudan I see."

"Okay," Harry yawned, "Make it quick."

"They have a legend that has been passed down for eons. The text I found, sort of a history of Durmstrang, said the stories were handed down orally for centuries before they were first recorded here, and even then were put into the realm of myth. Then, it goes on to say they believed the schools were placed where they were for easy access, for the travel…because the learned ones…could travel between them. "

"It's a fairy tale," Ronald grumbled. "Go to sleep."

Hermione knelt down in front of Harry, holding both of his hands and peering into his face. "Ivan said the gate at the Ministry has always been thought to be the one where the original school sat. Before the founders of Hogwarts were forced out because of the witch hunting. That would explain why it was there…it has always been there. He says legend has it that their own gate was hidden from the Huns and lost when the last of its protectors was slaughtered. They don't know where it is…no, that's not right. They believe it is just a marker…a …like Stone Hedge…nothing."

"And, if you are right, it means we could travel from there, to here."

"Yes, and to other places."

"Mione, it can't be that simple."

"No," she sighed. "There used to be a…not map…more of a set of instructions…a knowledge passed down from oracle to oracle."

"Let me guess," Ron said, pulling the covers off his head and sitting up. "You plan to figure it out."

"Not exactly," she muttered, stood and sat on her bed.

"You plan on going in the one at the Ministry." Harry said flatly.

"Of course, you knew from the beginning I…"

"Fuck," Ronald spat, throwing himself back to his pillow. "I should have known. Now you are going to make him believe Sirius came out on the other side of the world and just never bothered to come home."

"Shut up," she called over her shoulder, turning back to Harry. "Harry, listen. He can't come back. He can't. We saw it, Ronald saw it. He died, Harry."

"Then why would there be a way back from the veil?"

"We don't know that what we saw is a …veil …or the other side…or means crossing over to death…we don't know that at all. What if it is just …a mode of transportation? Or like the Kanaz, just a short cut to somewhere else. That's what the ancients seemed to think anyway, a sort of travel, like a train station, a method of travel."

"Yeah, Harry," Ronald said, knowing Harry wanted this to be about Sirius. "If this stuff is so old, it would have been before apparation, booms, maybe even elf travel."

"That's right Harry. Before even Muggle transportation." She looked back at Ronald and smiled at him for the help in dissuading Harry. "When did man first use horses? They would be older than even that."

"And older than the killing curse," Harry lifted his head and locked his eyes on hers. "He is alive. He is alive and I plan on finding him."

"Where did you get that idea?" she scolded him. "I say transportation and right off you say he is alive."

They stayed up debating what was and what may be until Hermione finally began to yawn, and striping down to her knickers and tee climbed in the middle bed glad that Ronald left his wand on the nightstand with a dim light emitting from the tip as he always did for her. She was almost asleep when a storm broke overhead, thunder shaking the very foundation of the school and blinding light streaming in through the windows as lightening lit the sky.

With a gasp, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, trembling as memories flooded over her, a wall falling, the giants footfalls, the crackling of magic that filled the air with dark curses and darker death.

"Mione?" Ronald raised up on one elbow and lifted the edge of the blanket. "Come here."

She all but flew into his bed, allowed him to wrap his arms around her, and cried into his chest. "You're dreaming. It's okay. It's only a storm."

"I think I killed him…I…the hex hit and then…"

"I know. Here." He rolled her over to her side and spooned around her, laying his arm across the waist and pulling her close. "Better?"

"I don't know who he was. He…he wore a mask..and..."

"Shhh, it's over," he said softly, resting his chin on her head as another bolt of lightening lit the room, followed by a long rumbling thunder. "Now sleep."

"Can I stay here?" She tried to look over her shoulder to see his face.

"Sleep," he whispered, feeling her relax and take a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around his and was asleep within moments.

.