A/N: Sorry for the cliffy. We have now entered the Dungeon Crawl. (dramatic drumming). Next month is NaNoWriMo!

Chapter 16
"I'll follow you into the dark."
Death Cab for Cutie – I Will Follow You Into the Dark

Harry and Draco lingered on the roof until the lack of warm jumpers forced them to retreat to the flat in the last hours of the night. The two men had subtle smiles and swollen lips as they entered the flat and peered at it through the dimness. Ron lay on the bed, tucked into a tight ball with his back to the door. A soft snore escaped. Harry giggled.

"Harry, did you just giggle?" Draco asked in a low voice, eyebrow arched.

"Me? Course not." And then he giggled again and leaned in to steal a quick kiss. Draco grabbed his biceps and pulled Harry close to him, chest to chest, assuring that the kiss was anything but quick.

"Nghhh," emerged from the bed. Then a more coherent, "'bout time ya got back."

The kiss ended more quickly than either of them intended, and as Ron finally rolled over to look at them, they stood side by side, as casual as a puppy who had just piddled on the floor.

"What?" Ron sat up, alarmed. "What did you guys do?"

"Nothing!" Harry said. "Umm…" His gaze wandered towards Draco, unsure of exactly what they were to each other, unsure of how Draco would handle this, how Ron would handle this.

Draco returned the look and smiled. He let his eyes roam up and down Harry's body, obvious and possessive, and then walked over to his own cot, smirking at Ron.

"Oh Gawd," Ron groaned. "Just… just… not in the room when I'm here, okay?" Ron looked at Harry with a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. "Okay?"

Harry was grinning like he had just met Santa Claus and nodded.

"Oh, don't worry, Weasley," Draco drawled. "We won't upset your delicate sensibilities."

Ron groaned to himself again and finally climbed off the bed. "Whatever," he said with a dismissive manner. "Harry, owl came for you while you were gone. From Popicon."

Ron handed a wrapped scroll to Harry that was sealed with a beige wax stamp. News from Popicon! Harry hoped it was something—anything—that could help them with the crystal ball and breaking the curse on Hermione. He threw an apologetic look to Ron and knew that his friend must have been dying to open his post.

Harry touched the stamp with his thumb and it crumbled into small chunks after it had assessed his magical signature. Quickly, with unsteady hands, he unrolled the scroll and skimmed it. Both Ron and Draco leaned over his shoulders, reading.

"He's got something," Harry said in awe. "'Dear Mr. Potter,'" he read to the others, "'with the additional information about the 'crystal ball' I think I might have found your relic. And when I say relic, I certainly mean relic. This item is ancient. Its most modern name is the Quetzalcoatl Staff. 'Staff?' you might say. Yes, Staff. The ball is only one portion of the whole. It is believed to not only pre-date the Conquistador era, but there is also the possibility it hails from before the Aztecs as we know them, perhaps originating from the Toltecs.

"'The Staff has three components: the staff, wooden, about three feet long according to record; the orb, which you are familiar with; and a feather, said to have come from the Quetzalcoatl itself. It was dismantled and the pieces were spread throughout the world, supposedly to reduce the relic's power.

"'History says that the Staff was wielded by the Aztec ruler. With the Spanish traveled an intrepid European wizard who understood immediately the power of the artefact. As the Aztecs were decimated, the wizard gained access to the Staff and tinkered with it. He must have been a very powerful man, very stupid, yet still very powerful. His influence in some way affected the magic of the Staff and it came to life, gained its own élan vital.

"'The Staff began to control the wizard. Most records were lost due to the destruction of one of the ships on the return trip, but the Staff made it. It is impossible to piece together the entire journey and history of the object, for only it can tell. One report says it laid on the bottom of the ocean until a giant squid devoured it, only to be found in its belly by whalers in the early 1700s.

"'But most of the reports all say the same thing: the item controlled people. It took away their will and inserted its own. It drained their energy and thrived off of magical folk. Between this aspect of its power and your information on the orb, I was able to eventually find reference to this relic. It was dismantled by an old coven in the Yukon and members took the pieces far and wide to reduce its power. They were not able to destroy the object, though their efforts lead to many failed attempts and untimely deaths.

"'There are some references to the reversal of the curse, but I haven't found a complete ritual yet. I have sent a request for an audience with the Yukon coven as it exists today. Let's hope they keep good records!

"'This is a cursed, sentient artefact. Be careful. Its true strength is unknown, especially if all of its parts are reunited.

"'When I find out more, I will contact you immediately. Records show that all pieces have been missing for over a hundred years, so I cannot offer any suggestions on the location of the staff or feather.

"'Happy hunting.

Argyle Popicon'"

"Well, that's sure fine and educational and all, but this doesn't help us much," muttered Ron.

"Well, it's a start. Plus, if he gets anything back from the Yukon coven, we might be able to break the curse on Hermione and everyone else! Even if we don't get the orb back, we can at least stop its progress," Harry said.

"But we have to get the orb, or at least stop whoever is using it. People have died! We can't let whoever is doing this get away with it," Ron practically cried in fevered excitement.

"Ron, I know. Wewill stop it. But first thing's first. Let's shut down your guy here so we can all get home and work harder on learning more about this Quetzalcoatl Staff and how to break its power over people."

"Right," Ron drawled, lost in thought. "Well, I think I'll give Underhill some special project to work on, and then the rest of the team and I can bust this guy."

"Not to burst your happy little zone of optimism here, but what if Underhill wasn't your only traitor?" Draco finally spoke up.

Ron's face fell.

"Now, I must say, that entertained me." Draco smirked, earning a glare from both Ron and Harry. He simply shrugged, but continued. "I think you still need Harry and me and we should be included in the bust."

Harry nodded. "And, I would bring in Remus, too."

"I can't bring in all of these outside people on an official raid."

"When you're not sure of the integrity of your crew, you should. You need us."

"Fine. Call back Remus and let's get to planning. I want to get this over with."

"Plincher, any news from your front?" Ron asked in his usual debriefing. He wasn't expecting much and only half listened to his colleague. His mind kept returning to the warehouse and the wizard behind the black-market artefact dealings.

"Well, there were two more Dark items we collected that we believe were sold by our guy. One victim is in the hospital being treated for shriveled lungs. His prognosis isn't good," Plincher said in a subdued tone.

Ron nodded, growling to himself and staunchly trying not to set his eyes on Bernard Underhill.

"Thanks Plincher. So, team, we have another tip that there might be an exchange at Dzibilchaltun. It isn't far from Merida, nor is it the only exchange that has happened at some of the ruins. The Temple of the Dolls is the expected site for the exchange. This is a night mission…" Ron picked up a clipboard and flipped through the papers, colour coded with yellows, blues and reds signifying their contents. Landing on a yellow sheet Ron scanned over the names, already knowing exactly what he would find. "Abbott. Underhill. You guys are up for the next night surveillance."

Abbott groaned. She hated the night jobs but she never skirted her duty. Ron assumed it was because she was trying to prove herself, being the newest member, and he also knew she wouldn't let Underhill skip out, either.

"Sorry guys," Ron offered, not at all sorry.

"Better you than me," laughed Meyers. "Hmm, comfy bed, some warm tamales, hot bath. Can't wait."

Underhill actually laughed back.

Not tonight Meyers, Ron thought to himself. Tonight you will see the action every Auror longs to see.

"Well, let's call it a day. Remember Abbott, Underhill, contact us immediately if anything seems suspicious." The two Auror's nodded and left for a quick meal before leaving for the ruins.

Ron would give them two hours and then call back the rest of the team. Then they would strike.

Everything stood quiet as a tomb, the still air holding no sound, embracing no heat. The team had been stationed around the warehouse for the last half hour, just watching for anything overt, running diagnostic spells over the area to fully measure its defenses.

Ron had brought in a new product designed by his brothers, only slightly modified for this intended purpose. It looked like a Roman candle to Harry and after Ron tapped it with his wand it let out a soft woosh. Nothing apparently happened, but Harry knew that tiny motes had ejected from the tube and slowly drifted over the area, alerting the operator to a multitude of planted curses. Just another fun product from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, working for an Auror team near you.

Meyers had urged Ron to call for the return of Underhill and Abbott. Ron stressed that the 'tip' about this warehouse might be a trick to lure them away from Dzibilchaltun or that an exchange still might be in progress and Ron didn't want to miss any possibility to capture the Dark Artefact peddler. Meyers eventually dropped her argument and prepared for the raid, excitement evaporating the caution she felt at being short staffed.

Plus, didn't Ron promise that a few other trusted men might join them as well? Probably not as good as two Aurors, but if Ron valued their skills and ability to back them up, then Meyers wouldn't argue.

The entire team was shocked to find the 'few trusted men' to be none other than Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and Remus Lupin. The members of the team grinned at the news, certain they wouldn't fail in this mission and pitied Underhill and Abbott who were stuck in a boring surveillance job.

Initially, things went slowly. Harry had gone up to the building and sent out his feelers, sensing the wards around the place and began to slowly dismantle them. Draco stood close by, guarding the wizard during this painstaking process since Harry became absorbed in his extended senses, not his immediate surroundings. Finally, after almost twenty minutes, Harry opened his eyes and nodded at Draco, who signaled to the team that they could enter.

It was soon after that that things went balls up.

"This place is totally rigged," Harry murmured to Draco.

"Well, you're not really surprised are you?" he asked. "This is a man dealing with Dark and cursed items. You didn't expect a big sign on the front door saying "Welcome, come peruse my wares" did you?"

Harry only grunted in return.

The team moved into the building following Harry's painstaking disassembly. Harry's senses strained to feel for any magic, to hear any noise. His enhancement cantrips hummed about him, a sense of magic washing over the other wizards and witches nearby.

The large, open room, ceiling arching high overhead, housed little, only a few boxes and crates organized in the centre. The Aurors fanned out and examined the edges of the room and after finding nothing, moved towards the wooden crates wrapped in steel and boxes made of cardboard. Hidden away in the centre of the piles was a stairway leading down into the floor.

Harry looked over at Ron, waiting for his lead. He wasn't the leader of this team anymore. He was a guest. He found it shocking how little that bothered him.

"Braithwaite and Burns, you go first. Followed by Potter and Malfoy. Lupin and I will follow next. Then Meyers and Plincher."

Harry frowned slightly. He knew that both Braithwaite and Burns were excellent at intrusion, but he still felt he should have gone first. I'm a guest. I'm only a guest. Perhaps it bothered him just a little. He stood by as the first set of Aurors descended the steps and then followed after the prescribed three minutes.

Harry stalked down the narrow tunnel with Draco close behind, wand up, scanning the darkness. He heard faint footsteps ahead of him from the other two Aurors, but no other noises reached his ear. The steps descended steeply and the corridor practically glimmered with layers of magic implanted in the stone and concrete surrounding them, giving way to wizard space.

Minutes slipped by as they continued down the steep grade and a soft noise finally tickled Harry's modified hearing. It was musical, like a hundred sopranos singing in melodic unison. Harry didn't recognize the words and wondered if it was mermaid song.

Harry and Draco soon caught up to the two Aurors ahead of them, waiting in the dark.

"What do you think that is?" Burns asked.

"No idea," Harry said. "Draco?"

"I'm not familiar with it," he said shaking his head.

The four men continued on in a pack now, Braithwaite and Burns still leading. The stairs finally leveled out and the pathway continued around a few sharp turns, apparently laid out at random intervals: the first after two minutes of walking, the next after one and so on. The song grew in volume, digging into Harry's eardrums. He pressed the heel of his hand to his ear and rubbed it, but it offered no relief.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"Damn song is affecting my sound amplifier. I have to drop it."

Harry dropped the spell, not willing to risk bursting the fine bones in his ear canal. The song, so beautiful and joyous, pierced the air and distracted everyone with its shrillness.

"This is odd," offered Burns. "There isn't anything here. There're no security spells, no traps or curses, just a non-detection weave. It's like the guy's not at all concerned at being found out so didn't bother with any kind of defense."

It had been over an hour and Harry didn't like the feel of their situation. His gut told him it was a trap and that they were walking into more than just a hidden tunnel. "Let's wait for the others," he suggested. Braithwaite and Burns eagerly agreed.

It didn't take long for Ron and Remus to catch up to them. "What's wrong?" Ron asked, casting a lumos to illuminate the tunnel. In the faint light, the smooth walls continued for another thirty feet until the darkness enveloped the details.

"I don't like this… I think we should stick closer together," Harry said. Ron nodded in consent, seemingly unconcerned that Harry offered a suggestion contrary to his orders. Apparently, he felt the same way.

Remus sniffed at the air. "I don't smell anything, only us. I've been in wizard space this extensive before and usually it picks up some of the smells of the surrounding media. This must be brand new."

"Perhaps it's all set up for us, a nice red-carpet welcome," Draco said, scanning his featureless surroundings.

The entire team finally gathered and after a brief discussion, they slowly continued down the tunnel. The song, now loud enough to eat up all other sound, was the only characteristic of the place. Eventually the tunnel opened up into a large, square room, with doors on every wall and a large, gilded cage in the centre. Within the cage perched a large, dumpy looking bird. It had a huge beak, like a dodo, with the posture of a vulture, sparsely covered in brilliant blue feathers.

"What the hell?" Plincher said in awe, his words buried under the continual melody.

The group of people looked around at each other. Ron pointed to Braithwaite, Burns and Meyers and directed them towards a door, then indicated to Plincher to join him as he walked towards another.

"You three get that door, okay." Ron said, though Harry could only read the words as they formed on his friend's mouth. Harry nodded, offering Ron a supportive smile, and headed towards the door across the room from them.

Harry reached for the knob of the door when Remus grabbed his hand. "Did you check for any curses?" he asked, screaming over the bird's needling song.

Shocked, Harry realised he hadn't. "It's that damned bird," he said, gesturing towards the cage. "I can't think." He drew out his wand and with some effort, cast some revealing charms, circling the knob in concentric circles with his wand. The knob was definitely cursed, that much was certain, and as he prepared to disarm it, the door to the left exploded with a boom.

"HOLY FUCK!" Harry heard over the incessant din and he looked over to see Ron and Plincher running towards the smoke billowing around the door where Braithwaite, Burns and Meyers had been.

"Meyers? Burns?" Ron called out as he drew his wand. With a quick swish he performed a simple smoke clearing charm, taught to him by his mother during his bachelor days, and after the smoke dissipated, nothing was there, only an open door.

"Braithwaite!" Ron screamed over the singing bird. Harry paused and sensed the air around him, forcing himself to concentrate through the endless melody. He didn't feel the missing Aurors anywhere, which gave Harry some hope. He didn't sense their spirits, either.

"Ron. RON! Calm down." Harry tried to reach his friend, but Ron was mad with worry. Finally, Harry grabbed him by his shoulders and shook hard. "Ron, get a grip."

Ron looked at Harry with a haunted expression. "Harry, let me go." His words so soft Harry had to interpret lip motions once more. Draco and Remus stood nearby, wands at the ready, carefully guarding the open door. Plincher watched on, his attention split between Harry and Ron.

"That damned bird," Draco yelled over the song, holding his head with his hands, the grip on his wand slack. Then he raised his head with shoulders squared and stalked over to the cage. Wand lifted, he spoke incantation after incantation, casting a siege of spells. Nothing seemed to happen.

"Ron, they aren't dead. At least I don't think they are," Harry screamed into his ear.

"What? Another gut instinct?" Ron seemed more annoyed than relieved.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry mumbled, knowing Ron couldn't have heard him.

"Well, we have to find them," Ron said loudly, the other men nodding in agreement. "Let's remove the wards on these doors before we do anything else."

A quick series of diagnostics made it apparent that this door no longer had spells protecting it. Apparently opening the door set the entire cluster off. So, Harry walked over to another door and, really forcing himself to focus, he undid the intricate spells. They were of a nature he hadn't seen before and a part of him wished he'd had time to study the unknown form of magic. The other part, the larger, more demanding part, wanted to go and find his friends.

After he finished he looked over to Ron and saw that he was still working on his door. Draco remained near the bird, now throwing obscenities at it accompanied by rude hand gestures, and Remus stood before the open door, staring down the long passage.

Harry walked over to Ron to help him finish breaking the wards, since he had done it once he figured he could dismantle them quicker the second time, but a scowl from Ron halted Harry's offer. After a few more minutes Ron finally broke the spells, but looked no more pleased then he had before.

"What now?" Harry asked loudly.

"You three continue down that tunnel and we'll go down this one. We have to find this bastard and find out where the others were ported to. But be careful, no hero stuff."

Harry snorted. "Don't worry," he yelled at Ron. "Keep in communiqué, okay."

"Won't work," Ron yelled back. "Not until we get away from this fecking bird. Just be careful."

Harry nodded and gripped his friend's arm, having his own gripped in return, and then he turned around and in a few long strides found himself at the door he had just disarmed. Remus and Draco appeared at his side, silent in the dodo's song.

"Can't shut that damned bird up. Avada Kedavra didn't even work. I think the song negates verbal command spells." Draco scowled. Harry was shocked Draco would resort to such a spell, but didn't comment. No point in debating the ethical use of the Unforgivables now.

"Let's go." He reached for the knob and opened the door. Nothing happened and he released a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He stepped through the door followed by Draco then Remus. With a loud BANG it slammed behind them. Remus swiveled unhesitatingly and tried the door. It wouldn't open.

"Alohamora." It surprised nobody that the door remained locked.

"What the hell? What is this place, a sick fun house?" Draco yelled at them. Even with the door shut the bird song was still as loud as before.

The three men continued down the corridor, tall and square with no distinguishing features just as the other corridor had been before. A few side passages split off from the main branch, but the men continued on down the centre one, keeping a straight path. Harry walked first, wand held high glowing with a lumos spell, followed by Draco with Remus taking up the rear. Slowly, so faintly they almost didn't notice, the corridor started to glow with light and eventually the lighted wand became no longer necessary and they realised the bird song was only a distant noise. Now, the heavy cadence of their booted steps reflected off the smooth walls sounding like an army on forced march.

Finally, they came upon a set of doors, one at the end of the hallway and two more on either side.

"This is stupid," Draco growled. "Pick a door, any door and see what new level of hell you fall into."

Harry couldn't agree more, and a sick feeling grew in his gut, reminding him of his fateful journey into the Department of Mysteries. The night his godfather fell and Harry lost the only family he'd had to some ethereal beyond. He looked to both Draco, who was who knew what to him, and to Remus, like the uncle he should have had and never did, his surrogate godfather, and vowed he would lose neither of them in this twisted maze.

"Okay, you guys test those doors and I'll check this one." Harry stepped forward to the door at the end of the hall and cast every diagnostic spell he could on the handle. He didn't notice anything. He heard Draco mumbling.

"This one's clear," Draco said to his left.

"Not sure about this one," Remus said. "There's something here, or beyond the door. I'm not sure." Harry and Draco turned towards Remus' door and performed their own diagnosis.

Neither came up with anything conclusive.

"I say we avoid it for now and check out one of these other doors first." With tacit consensus the men stood before the centre door, the one Harry had tested, and Draco reached for the handle and turned.

The door knob turned easily, as if it had been recently oiled, kept in pristine condition, and Draco pushed it, letting it swing open on its own. Nothing happened. No sound came from the room, no light, no smells. It was empty of everything, devoid of sensation.

"Well," Remus said. "I guess I'll go first."

"Knock yourself out," Draco said, gesturing for Remus to go forth, ever the valiant hero.

With a roll of the eyes Remus took a step into the room and was rewarded by an instant haze of pain and confusion.

Nothing was clear. His senses, all muddled and distorted beyond comprehension, left him feeling possessed by chaos. The air was thick, not only opaque but also full and heavy, making him desperate for clear air. A deep buzz blocked out all other sound and caused his insides to tremble at the tone. And the smell, so alien he forced himself to inhale through his mouth where he only tasted the retched miasma. His every cell ached with a pressure, like he was about to explode.

Remus turned and rushed out of the room; paying little attention to the route he took, just trying to escape that horrid cloud. Through one door he pushed, then down a hall he sprinted, skittering around a corner, through more passages, and then finally he paused for a breath of blessedly clean air. He leaned against a door, hunched over with his hands braced against his knees, gulping in deep breaths. It opened to his weight, spilling him into a small room.

Remus jumped to his feet, posed ready for attack. The ceiling above was glass--that grabbed his attention first--showing the sparkle of the night sky. How can there be a glass ceiling to the sky in an underground room? It reminded him of the ceiling in Hogwarts' Great Hall and he gaped at the show of power in this underground compound. Why was perhaps a better question, but then something else caught his attention and that train of thought ended.

The room was empty except for one thing.

An ancient doorway standing upright with a thin wisp of cloth covering the open entrance.

Remus growled up at that bone-white arch glowing under the moonlight. How it stood here, against all forces of gravity and momentum, he didn't know, but he did know something. This was a portal.

The cloth hung intact, like pristine lacework, so different from the ratty looking veil held by a similar arch sequestered deep within the Department of Mysteries. It stood solid and mocking; taunting Remus with secrets only it knew and would never share.

And the whispers… haunting, terrible in their ceaseless symphony, beyond comprehension but captivating in their insistency.

The filmy veil shifted as if in a slight breeze, the hollow whispers sneaking out behind the soft fabric.

"Remus," it sighed.

Remus sobbed. He knew that voice. It was thin and weak, on the edge of silent, just a few short syllables made whole by the wind. It meant nothing, he told himself.

"Remus," the diffuse word came again as the curtain fluttered, revealing a swirling blackness beyond.

"Who… What is this?" he choked out. "You are not you!" he screamed into the dark. And then his will broke and he sobbed aloud. "You can't be! I am so sick of shadows." These final, weak words fading from his lips.

He fell to his knees, prone before the iridescent arch, as a shadow walked through.