Chapter Twenty-five: Inside Castle Mount Snake Pit

"Okay….and there. All done!" Bridgit stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Drawn on Cora's and her own arms, was a poorly done imitation of the dark mark given form by a Sharpie. The two were clearly idiots, as they were doing this inside of Castle Mount Snake Pit's main foyer. Luckily, the Death Eaters were far too self-involved to notice what other people were doing and their antics went unnoticed.

"It's so awesome, it fooled even me!" Cora raised her eyebrows. "None shall ever know of our deception! Ha ha ha ha!"

"Hey, um, do you guys know where the bathroom is?" A nervous-looking newbie shuffled up to them.

The two turned as one to give him a double dose of disdain.

"Excuse me?" Bridgit raised her eyebrow.

"Can't you see we're busy? Beat it!" Cora snapped in an officious tone.

"Agh!" He squealed, and ran away.

Looking nervously around the lobby, the two took note that only three other people were there, none of whom were paying much attention to them. Deciding not to press their luck, the two stomped off to a smaller corridor. Once out of earshot, they formed a conference ring of power.

"Where do we go from here?" Bridgit looked around nervously. "We're so dead if they figure us out."

"Why not head that way?" Cora pointed at a sign directing them to the 'research and development' section of the fortress.

"Maybe that's where they keep cures to things." Bridgit agreed.

Power walking with the air of quiet desperation, the two unblinkingly followed the arrow. Passing down nondescript cobblestone corridors, there wasn't much worth mentioning save the medieval torches in brackets burning coldly. The two finally reached an archway labeled 'Research and Development Lab'.

"Excellent. Now all we need is an excuse to go in." Cora sighed.

Their mark appeared within the next five minutes, carrying a heavy folder full of paper under her arm.

"You there!" Bridgit barked." What are you doing?"

"Delivering files to Dr. Doom, what's it look like?" She drawled in response.

"You're late! We were just dispatched to go and find you." Cora put her hands on her hips.

"Excellent work, then. Standing here doing nothing really seems to have paid off for you." She rolled her eyes.

"I don't like your attitu-" Bridgit stepped on Cora's foot to stop her from incurring this person's wrath.

"Look, the Doctor's a little irritated with you right now and it's all for nothing. Why don't you give us the files, and then we'll hand them to him for you." Bridgit offered sympathetically.

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Well, aren't you little miss helpful. Tell you what: I'm a big girl, so I'll just go in and take what's coming to me. Unless of course, I'm not really late and you made this whole thing up." She smiled coldly.

"Look, I'm sure we can just get past this if we- yoink!" Cora shoved the woman over and stole the files.

"Glaciesei cubus!" Bridgit shouted, freezing the woman in a block of ice.

Her look of shock was preserved beautifully as they slid her into a supply closet and locked the door. Smiling to each other, they walked into the lab.

Their smiles quickly faded as they were confronted with the sight of hundreds of people locked in wire cages lining the walls. Some cursed at them, others cried out for salvation. Most just stared into space with a blank look on their faces. Cora swallowed hard and tried to ignore them.

"Dr. Doom! We've got your files!" She shouted.

"Coooooming!" A heavy Australian voice responded.

A large, rotund man bounded into the room, shaking the floor as he went.

"Thank you, girls!" He grabbed the papers from them in his great meaty hand. "Hah…that was quite the jog." He panted. "But hadn't I sent for Dewerta?"

"Ah. She died somehow." Bridgit intoned darkly.

"Oh, you newbies." He tsked. "Well, war's not without sacrifices, eh my little red shirts?" He elbowed Cora, who flew into the wall. Surely he was Hagrid's chubby, evil cousin.

He noticed Bridgit staring at the cages.

"I know. Almost makes you feel sorry for them, yea?" He chuckled.

"Hardly. I was just noting the inefficiency of space. You could easily fit two per cage." Bridgit coldly answered.

"Ah, right you are. But, for this research, we try to make them as comfortable as we can bear for their last moments of life." He sighed nostalgically. "You remind me of the good old days, where everything was simple and you could just do your research on the battlefield instead of in this disgusting, contrived lab setup." He snorted. "You think Bellatrix learned the unforgivable curse in a lab? No! In the real world on a free muggle. It's better that way: more sudden, more fight and kick in them. Not these." He kicked at the cages, spitting in contempt. "Ah well. My only consolation is that they're finally letting me pursue curse development. You wouldn't believe what they had me working on before!" He laughed.

"What? Cures for poison?" Cora pretended to laugh out loud.

"Hardly! De-lousing shampoos. This is far more satisfying. I mean, the unforgivable curse is deadly and all, but painless and with its Achilles heel of love. The next one won't be so flawed." He also intoned darkly.

"Keep up the good work." Bridgit smiled. "You do us proud against these disgusting things."

"Yeah." Cora chorused, not as enthusiastically.

"Yes, yes." He waved his hands dismissively. "Back to your duties and try not to die too quickly."

"We won't." Cora hastily made for the door.

"Oh, and one more thing." He called after them. "Be careful not to cross the Dark Lord. Our army may be short in numbers, but that won't stop you from ending up inside these cages if you make him angry. And as far as I'm concerned, a traitor's just as bad as a muggle." He spat after them as they scurried off.

"Well, that was truly horrifying." Cora muttered once they were out of earshot. "What say we come back here on our way out and do some liberating…and some exploding of certain people?"

"No."

"Well, okay. Just Dr. Doom, then." Cora compromised.

"No, I mean we're not coming back this way." Bridgit completed her thought. "We don't have time and it will attract unwanted attention to ourselves."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you see them? They were caged like animals. If we leave them here, they're going to die!" Cora hissed under her breath. "How can you leave them like that?"

"It's their bad luck. We didn't come here to save anyone and if we tried we'd fail our mission. Besides, we can't gather any intelligence on what they're up to if we're dead. It's a pointless risk. It's not like they'd be able to escape anyway."

"It's better to die in defiance than to live like an animal." Cora muttered darkly. "We're not even here to gather intelligence anyway! And as for our mission, I know Snape would do the same."

"No he wouldn't. Besides, if we don't come back with any useful intelligence, then far more people will die than the handful in those cages." Bridgit warned. "The greater good is in the long run."

Cora took a deep breath and closed her eyes to calm down a little.

"Okay. I see where you're coming from. However, do you feel nothing for those people?" She asked.

Bridgit sighed.

"I'm trying not to think about it right now. I'll deal with what we did or didn't do later."

"Alright then." Cora said from between clenched teeth. "Onwards to hell and back for King and Country, then."

"I thought we had a queen." Bridgit gave a thin smile.

"Yeah, but she's kind of manly-looking." Cora laughed quietly.

"Well, that detour was a complete waste of time. We need to go somewhere else, now." Bridgit sighed as they continued walking.

"I vote we beat up the next sap who passes us by and get some information. I don't know about you, but I feeling like cracking some heads." Cora clenched her fists.

"Well, I'll never say no to that."

"I'd like to thank you all for being here." Harry began solemnly.

It was a somber, gray day. A light drizzle sprinkled through the air on a most appropriately miserable and depressing day.

"Mary Sue would have liked that." He continued. "She wasn't here for a long time, but I'm sure she would be touched to know that, far away from Ponyland, she still had friends."

"I'm just glad I could be here, Harry, in your time of need." Neville offered his condolences. "I, too, know what it's like to lose an impossibly fortuitous dream goddess. Although…mine wasn't a golem. And she's not dead."

Harry choked back a girlish sob and bit his lower lip, looking towards the ground so none present could see the jewel-like tears welling in his deep, sensuous green eyes.

"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you'll find someone else to love someday. Someone who's been close to you all along…"

"But…but Hermione's taken." He moped.

"I'm not talking about Hermione, Harry." Ginny attributed his insensitivity to greatness.

"Professor McGonagall? But I'm not really into cougars." Harry blushed shyly at his own inexperience.

"No, Harry…I was thinking of someone closer to your own age, but not exactly your own age. Maybe a little younger, red hair, freckles, my-eyes-coloured eyes…" She blushed at her own forwardness.

"Sometimes Mary Sue had you-coloured eyes. That was when I knew what the names of our children would be." Harry sniffed.

Ron quickly placed his hands firmly on his sister's shoulders and pulled her away from the creepy, grieving nerd.

"No, dear, you can do better." Hermione whispered.

"Okay, Harry. I think it's time for you to say goodbye to your Mary Sue now." Ron prompted him.

"Do you *sniff* think she's in pony heaven?" Harry asked, lower lip quivering.

"Of course, she is, Harry. And one day when you pass on, you can look down on her from human heaven and sometimes visit if she's been really good." Hermione patted him on the head. "Now why don't you be a brave boy and stop crying? Mary Sue wouldn't want you to be sad. She'd want you to move on and find new happiness with someone else. Someone who's not Ginny."

"Okay." Harry wiped the tears from his eyes." I'll be happy…for Mary Sue!" He suddenly collapsed into the fetal position and started screaming. "AUGH! My dead Mommy!"

"All right…ashes to ashes and dust to dust." Ron kicked the shoebox full of her pebbly remains into the freshly dug earth and buried it.

The funeral procession quickly marched back to the warm and inviting castle, leaving Harry on the ground in misery.

"Why don't you love me, world?" He whispered pathetically before passing into a dead faint from emotional fatigue.

"Oh, Dumbledore, my champion of justice. It seems we cannot wake young Starsinger from his anger-like coma." Madame Pomfrey wailed.

"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Reagan roared.

"Pull yourself together, my darling Mystery." Dumbledore slapped her lovingly across the face.

"Oh, Albingtonopoly, I'm sorry. It's just too awful to think that such a young, talented, practitioner of medicine should be reduced to creating patients instead of saving them." She wiped a tear from her eye.

"WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU A FAT LIP!" Reagan roared, ramming his face against the door.

"Allow me to create a more suitable atmosphere." Dumbledore waved his magical wand, "Lumos Two, Electric Boogaloo." He whispered in a sultry voice.

The voice hole for Reagan's cell slammed shut so they could no longer hear him and the lights faded as a few choice ambient candles appeared and lit themselves.

"Oh, Albus. What if we have to…put him down?"

"Hush, my love." Dumbledore swept her close to him. "Do not fret."

"So." Professor McGonagall's shrill voice cut through their moment. "It would seem that Madame Pomfrey is not the only one playing doctor."

"Minnerva, you scathe me." Madame Pomfrey gasped. "Albingtonopoly told me that you were cool with us."

"Did he, then?"

"Uhh…uhh…I can explain everything in a few simple words." Dumbledore stammered.

"Oh?" Both women put their hands on their hips and raised their eyebrows in unison.

"I'm pregnant! I don't know which of you is the father. I thought I'd play the field until the test results got back." He sniffed.

"Oh, Albus. Do you truly think I'm that stupid?" McGonagall was affronted.

"You poor thing. In-school pregnancies are never easy. Why, I can't even tell you how many magical abortions I've had to do under the table. And oh, the depression. Nothing some Lumos can't take care of."

"Mystery, before you confess to anymore illegal activities you should take into account that he is obviously playing us for fools. Clearly he is male and is therefore not pregnant."

"I see where you're coming from." Madame Pomfrey nodded.

"But that's just it." Dumbledore began. "I've been carrying this dark secret for many years, but it's time I unloaded it from my frail man-chest. Something about the nature of my sexuality and identity that I've had to bear silently, like a cursed wraith. Minnerva, Mystery, have you ever noticed how I am always drinking from a hip flask hidden within the labyrinth that is my beard?"

"Yes, Albus. Everyone knows about your alcohol problem, but that's no excuse for this kind of behavior." McGonagall scolded him.

"No, that's just it. You see, I am always drinking from a polyjuice potion to change my appearance." He confessed.

"But…even if you're a woman that doesn't explain how one of us got you pregnant." Madame Pomfrey pointed out after scanning through one of her medical books.

"No, I'm not a woman. You see: I am a seahorse. The polyjuice potion is to keep me human, but for my kind we can never lose our reproductive properties. The males in the seahorse species carry the child. It's very scientific, really."

"I don't think that's how it works Al-"

"Oh, Albus! Will our children be seahorses?" Madame Pomfrey wailed.

"Well, if they're yours there's no telling what they'll be." Dumbledore admitted.

"What makes you think that they're yours, Mystery?" McGonagall demanded coldly.

"Well obviously because he loves me more."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I am the skankbot 7000." Pomfrey recited mechanically, mimicking her colleague. "I am incapable of the emotion called love and produce calculator babies from asexual budding. Initiating self destruct sequence."

"You hoebag!" McGonagall shrieked.

"Sorry to interrupt this enlightening conversation," Sammy finally entered the room she'd been standing outside of in fear for quite some time, "but I was wondering if someone could tell me how Reagan's doing?"

"Oh right. Well, that is a simple matter: the problem is voodoo. Find the doll, free it of its vices and then your princess shall be safe again." Madame Pomfrey explained.

"Uhh…what?"

"You heard her! Now scoot!" McGonagall snapped. "We have adult matters to discuss."

Needing no second bidding, Sammy blitzed out of there before anymore of her childhood could be stolen.

"All right. You are all assembled here because apparently everyone who's any good is either gone, incapacitated or in a crazy Springer-esque bitch fight." Sammy recited before her troops.

"Uh, I'm here too." Professor Summersong raised her hand.

"Yes, but Trelawney counts as negative one person, so she cancels you out." Sammy explained.

"Ah."

"According to my research, if Chewie used a voodoo doll to disrupt Reagan's inner Chakra, then we need to find his secret lair where the voodoo doll hides and remove the pins to restore Reagan's emotional balance. However, if the doll is destroyed before the pins are removed, the damage will be irreversible." Hermione hefted the gigantic book she'd been carrying at Ron, who crumpled under its weight and succumbed to the darkness of a minor concussion.

"I'll contact Reagan's spirit on the astral plane and guide him to safety!" Trelawney boomed.

"Yes…you play spiritual boyscout, we'll do the real work." Summersong muttered.

"Just like college!" Trelawney giggled. "There were so many hawt boys! Why did they all have to lose their hair? So bald now…"

"Who invited her anyway?" Sammy demanded. Everyone had learned that subtlety was not required where Trelawney was concerned.

"I'm sorry. She just follows me around now. Ever since the séance, she thinks we're friends." Summersong's voice quivered slightly.

"I'm so sorry." Sammy put a hand on her shoulder as an aside and then turned to the rest of the motley crew, which essentially consisted of Neville, Hermione, Fred, George and Professor Summersong (Ron and Trelawney were write-offs at this point). "Okay, let's move out! Make sure you contact the rest of the group once you find Chewie's hiding spot. We need to proceed with caution in case he left some surprises. And, go!" She waved and they all ran off to search through the school.

"Okay…ready…and…now!"

The whispers preceded Bridgit and Cora jumping some poor fool. That poor fool was Peter the rat guy. Before he could let out the terrified whimper at the back of his throat, his face had met with two fists, he had been gagged and his wand confiscated.

"Hello, poppet." Bridgit grinned roguishly.

Peter the rat guy quaked in silent terror.

"We have a few questions for you and you should answer them. However, if you try and scream for help, we'll cut out your tongue with this." Cora held up a rusty eggbeater.

"Do you understand?" Bridgit gave a sickening smile.

Peter the rat guy nodded as he eyed the eggbeater, clearly unaware of what it was.

"Very good. But, just to make sure…"

"Silentium!"

They removed the gag, but bound his arm and legs.

"W-who are you?" Peter the rat guy whimpered.

"That's of no importance. What is important is that you tell us what we need to know." Bridgit jabbed him in the chest with the eggbeater.

"Magic may be less labour-intensive, but muggle torture methods can be just as useful and even more fun." Cora smiled darkly.

"W-w-what do you want to know?"

"There is an antidote for the poisons locked in the Death Eater tattoos, is there not?" Cora demanded coolly.

"Well, yes, but why would you want to know that? Clearly you two aren't Death Eaters."

"Just tell us what we want to know." Bridgit turned the eggbeater's handle, knowing the man's lack of knowledge of muggle utensils would be scaring him spitless right now.

Peter the rat guy's eyes widened as recognition dawned on him.

"It's Severus, isn't it? I knew he was not to be trusted. Truly, he is Dumbledore's lapdog now and playing double agent against my beloved Lord Voldemort."

"Where is it?" Bridgit turned the handle faster and moved it closer to his face.

"I have no qualms about telling you. Lord Voldemort has it. He keeps it in his room somewhere, but you won't find it without raising alarm. He's in for his afternoon nap, and shall undoubtedly be awakened by you two rifling around through everything. Also, his room is guarded by his beloved Nagini. The second anyone enters his chambers without being invited, she kills them before they can blink. Such is the way of the ninja snake." Peter the rat guy laughed hollowly.

"We'll worry about Nagini. Tell us where his chambers are." Cora smacked him across the face for good measure.

Real pain was more potent than magical pain sometimes.

"The paltry torture you offer is nothing compared to what my Lord will do to me if he discovers I have betrayed him." Peter the rat guy snorted.

"Don't you think he'd already kill you for revealing to us the location of the antidote and the security measures of his innermost sanctum?" Bridgit giggled menacingly.

Peter shuddered at that cold, shrill titter.

"N-no."

"You'd best worry about pleasing us – who haven't made up our minds about killing you painfully yet – than about your master, who already has." Cora gave him a smug smile.

"He's in the hall to your left. I was just bringing him his nightcap before he went to sleep, although I'm certain he already slumbers, what with the delay from you jumping me and all." Peter the rat guy revealed his last bit of useful information.

"That's all we needed, spineless cur. Glaciesei cubus."

Peter the rat guy was frozen in a block of ice and, like his fellow Death Eater, relocated to a random supply closet.

"Alright, Cora. This is it." Bridgit smiled nervously.

"Piece of cake." Cora nodded grimly.

"Yep…nothing better than breaking into Voldemort's bedroom."

"Nothing simpler…"

"For king and country then?" Bridgit offered.

"Meh. Whatever."

And the two crept stealthily onwards.

Everyone was in Trelawney's room/classroom.

"Who wants tea?" Trelawney bounded joyfully into the room, spilling drops of scalding hot tea on Neville.

"It feels like grandma Longbottom's kisses!" He wailed.

"Seeing how lonely she is really makes you glad for your friends." Harry sighed. "By the way, thanks for inviting me along." He gave Ron and Hermione a pointed glance.

"You were busy." Hermione said politely.

"Crying like a baby." Ron added.

"Oh, Ron. Blunt honesty is the true mark of manhood. Please take me to your Sherwood Forest. My maidenhood is oh so intact and your l33t Robin Hood thieving skills make it yours for the taking!" Hermione threw herself at Ron.

"Awesome!" Ron picked her up and dashed off, forgetting the silk rope ladder in his haste.

There was an impressive thud followed by a moment of tense silence.

"Urghhh…that really hurt." Hermione moaned.

"Hermione, your femur is impinging into my thyroid." Ron whimpered.

"Truly we are as one." Hermione sighed dreamily before passing out from pain.

"We'll worry about that one later…" Sammy slammed the trapdoor shut.

"I still can't believe we didn't find anything." Fred sighed.

"Between the two of us, we must know all of the secret passages…and still nothing!" George rammed his fist against the Neville.

"That's how Grams says she loves me." He whimpered quietly.

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Why, I read a Sherlock Holmes book once and it turned out that the stolen item was hidden out in the open and all the police, despite their most intense and detailed searches, didn't think to look there." Professor Summersong offered her parable.

"But we searched all the dorms, the Great Hall, even the bathrooms and we still found nothing! I have half a mind to search the field to see if the damn mutt buried it somewhere." Sammy sighed in frustration, trying to maintain her manly image without betraying her intense worry and pain at her love's incapacitation.

"I don't know about that. Something as small as Chewie couldn't be outside in a secluded place by itself for long without being picked off by one of Hagrid's vulture-bats." Harry reasoned.

"Okay, talking isn't getting us anywhere, so why don't we just take a moment to think and reflect?" Sammy suggested, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.

Everyone was tired from searching and shared a feeling of general frustration and hopelessness, so they ended up spending their thinking time glancing around the room looking at the strange assortment of items kept by Professor Trelawney. They noticed smudged fingerprints left lovingly over every single surface, the layers of dust blanketing glass display cases protecting things best not identified. Finally, their eyes came to collectively rest on the giant piles of garbage and rotting food strewn about her living area.

"Good God, Sybill. Don't you ever clean up after yourself?" Profesosor Summersong scolded the woman who was only her colleague by default.

"My room is dirty? It shouldn't be! Dumbledore assigned a house elf to me at the start of term." She ignored reality. "He was supposed to take care of it."

"Well, have you seen him recently?" Sammy asked snidely.

"Come to think of it…I haven't seen him since the second week into first term." Trelawney admitted.

"Sybill, you need to take care of house elves. They need food and water! Now he's probably dead." Professor Summersong shook her head at the wastefulness of it all.

"Oh no! I've killed again! And Dumbledore said we weren't allowed to bury anymore bodies in the pumpkin patch." She looked desperately around for an easy out.

"Sybill! Remember the pact!" Professor Summersong whispered sharply, stunned that she had retained any memory of the staff meeting.

"I don't want to touch it if it's dead." Professor Trelawney wailed.

"Oh, I'll go do it!" Sammy muttered darkly, storming off.

"What was that about killing, Professor?" Nevillle quaked.

"Nothing, Mr. Longbottom. As you are no doubt aware, aside from Mr. Diggory, Hogwart's has had no student deaths ever." Professor Summersong lied through her teeth.

"Oh, okay!" Neville relaxed.

Trelawney gave her a thumbs up and mouthed, 'way to fool him'.

"Umm, guys? I think you should come see this." Sammy called from Trelawney's living area.

"What is it?"

"Is it gross?"

The twins leapt eagerly to their feet.

"Is it her lingerie?" Neville shook with fear.

Harry gave him a sideways glance.

"Why would you say that? And out loud, even."

"Well, don't you think old spinsters with lingerie is gross?" Neville sighed, trying again to purge Gram-Gram's "forbidden closet" from his psyche.

"Age shall never defeat the enlightened." Trelawney scream-groused, slamming herself into her hypobaric chamber.

As she entered stasis, Professor Summersong, Harry and Neville entered Trelawney's hamster nest. At first, they attributed the chewed-up pillows to her. Then they noticed a tiny room full of chew toys with a doggy bed taking up half of the floor.

"Does Trelawney have a dog?" Neville shuddered the thought of another neglected skeleton to be retrieved.

"No," Sammy said decisively, "but her house elf Blindie did."

Nagini dully became aware of the rise and fall of her master's chest as he slumbered. Something had awakened her. Lifting her head up, she tested the air with her dexterous tongue and tensed in alarm. Someone was in the room.

"Hs-" Her warning was abruptly cut short by a dart plunging into her throat.

Without so much as another sound, her head gently fell to her master's chest as the poison coursed through her veins. Before she could reflect on the irony of dying by a venomous poison, she died to the rhythm of his sleeping breath.

Bridgit lowered her blowpipe and put it back into her pouch and waited as Cora crept stealthily into the room. Checking to make sure he was asleep, Cora waved an okay to Bridgit as the Dark Lord continued to slumber. Bridgit felt her heart beating in her ears as she walked past that twisted face, half expecting the eyes to snap open. Voldemort sat upright snoozing in a giant, throne-like chair holding a giant stick in one hand that they assumed was for punishing his lackeys, or anything else hit-able.

Cora beckoned Bridgit to a door on the far side of the room. Silently opening it, they slipped into the room and closed it gently behind them. The room was bare save for a massive flat sheet of rock and a bright, hot bulb shining down on them from the ceiling. They gave each other a look, both thinking that Voldemort was a complete nutter.

Taking a chance, Bridgit whispered the silencing spell as quietly as she could. Enveloped in a bubble of silence, they could conduct their work without fear of being discovered. Both relaxed slightly, relieved that they didn't have to worry about being quiet.

"Okay, if you were an old crazy man where would you hide important things?" Cora wondered aloud.

"Well, crazy old people hide things under their mattresses…but he doesn't have a bed. All I see is a rock and a sun lamp." Bridgit gazed about the room.

"Hmmm…this proves that he's crazy, so…winguardium leviosa!" Cora waved her hands about and the sheet of rock responded, lifting into the air to reveal a small hole underneath.

"I'll see what's over there." Bridgit scurried under the rock's frightening shadow and picked up a small shoebox.

She scurried to the other side of the room and Cora put the rock down, joining her friend to examine what they had found.

They sat cross-legged on the floor and began rifling through the box.

"Look at this! These are Dumbledore's memos." Bridgit pulled out a few sheets of paper. "They've been shredded, but he meticulously taped them back together again."

The sheet of paper read: "Idea #4589: Fleet of Land Boats" and had schematics drawn of a boat with large wheels mounted on the sides. There was an 'X' marked in red ink and a side note in Dumbledore's handwriting reading "Too crazy". Underneath in green ink in a narrower, loopy cursive they assumed was Voldemort's read "Not too crazy for me! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"I guess the rest of them are ideas Dumbledore rejected due to their insanity and somehow Voldemort got a hold of them and pieced them back together again." Bridgit mused, tossing the rest aside on a pile.

"Somewhat obsessive, no?" Cora nervously laughed, hoping they weren't running out of time.

More rifling revealed war bonds, crossword puzzles, two tarnished old wedding bands, a dead bird and a diary.

"I don't see a cure here." Bridgit frowned in irritation. "Where else could it be?"

"Well, maybe it's written down in the diary?" Cora suggested. "I'll use my freakish gift of speed reading to scan it."

She read through the yellowed pages of narrow cursive at a surprising speed, pausing every now and again to tear out pages. By the time she had finished, half of the diary was gone.

"Most of these are war plans and the potions list for the cure…and the cure is also useful for several other ailments that he didn't want getting out. I guess sometimes evil scientists find helpful things. Anyway, the rest is just him detailing all of his dreams about snakes. He has problems." Cora sighed.

"Allright. I'll run the box back," Bridgit re-packed it and put the lid back on, "and you put the rock back. Then we'll see about getting out of here."

"Gotcha." Cora nodded.

Bridgit ran back to the hole, stuck the box exactly where she had found it, and dodged to the side again as Cora replaced the sheet rock. Satisfied, the two dusted off their hands and gave each other a high five.

"We did it! Not only did we find the cure, but we found potentially useful information about his sense of strategy and overall plans." Cora smiled.

"We rock!" Bridgit giggled as they both turned around.

They froze and their blood went cold as they stared into the blazing red eyes of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They screamed.