Auror Bacon
I don't know how long I stood there, staring blankly at the torch directly opposite me. It was four centimeters wide and nine centimeters tall, the dark wooden base gleaming in the flickering blue light. I'd only entered two rooms so far, and already my hands were burning and my throat hoarse from screaming. There were still nine unopened doors. Deep, crushing self-doubt settled in the pit of my stomach. How was I going to survive opening nine more doors? I didn't even know if I could handle another room like this, let alone nine…not to mention the final confrontation with the Bulgarians' sponsors. I had no back up, no plan other than to find whoever it was who was creating so much trouble. I shifted my wand slightly, hissing between my teeth as the wood rasped against my tender skin. I could barely move my wand; how was I going to cast complicated spells?
As I wallowed deeper and deeper into my pool of self-pity, Numberita became vaguely aware of the faintest hint of pine, refreshing in its crisp contrast to the heavy, dank smell that permeated the underground maze. It smelled like wide-open forests freshly dusted with snow and crisp winter winds laced with evergreen…it smelled like Al.
Great. Now I was hallucinating. Al was probably all the way up in the lobby fighting who knows what. I hadn't even told him that I was planning on entering the Department of Mysteries. I hadn't told anyone, actually. That probably wasn't the smartest move on my part.
The flames were moving faster now, almost as if a wind was stirring the air and urging the flames to lash against the stone walls.
A steady hand landed on my shoulder. My breath caught in my throat, and I immediately jerked backwards, raising my wand defensively as I tried to stomp on the person's instep.
The person moved backward reflexively, bracing his hands against my shoulders firmly.
"Lancaster. It's me," he said. I froze, my mouth dropping open.
"A-Al?"
Seeing that I wasn't about to hit him again, Al released his hold on my shoulders but kept his hands resting loosely on my shoulders.
"Merlin, Adela. Why are you here?" he asked, his green eyes narrowed in annoyance. I let out a disbelieving laugh, relief flooding my body as I greedily took in his sharp jaw, his tousled hair, the soft curve of his lip –
I was so happy, so relieved to not be alone anymore. My heart jumped with joy, and my mouth was split into a wide grin that hurt my cheeks.
Then Numberita halted my happy dance, sending sensible doubt through me once more. I couldn't trust anything anymore. This room had the power to show me incredibly life-like situations. What if this was another one?
What if this wasn't Al?
I stepped back slowly, raising my wand once more with shaking fingers.
Al frowned, his brows lowering in confusion.
"Wha-?" he began.
"What did I name my owl?" I demanded harshly. The simulation from before had been closely tied in to a Slytherin version of myself. If this were still that twisted alternate reality, then surely I would have named my owl Quill or Ipsa or something equally pretentious. His face cleared as understanding dawned on him, and he said simply, "Lady Bacon. Honestly, I pity the owl. What kind of name is that? It wouldn't intimidate a bloody mouse, let alone her fellow owls."
Well, that certainly sounded like him. I lowered my wand slowly, still not quite believing that he was here.
His lips pulled up into an uncertain smile as he watched me carefully. I let out another strangled laugh before running forward and flinging my arms around him. He was comforting in his solidity, and when I pressed my nose to his dust-streaked black shirt I could smell the faint scent of pine that I would always associate with him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I felt the soft brush of his lips as he kissed my forehead lightly, cradling my face with his warm hands.
"You wish you were named Lady Bacon," I mumbled against his shirt, my cheeks burning slightly from the contact. He snorted, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
"Sure. I could go by 'Auror Bacon' or 'AB' - of course, I'd have to be careful then. Don't want to be intimidating my opponents too much. With a name like that I'd frighten every wizard this side of London," he said sarcastically.
"Be still my heart. Good sir, you hold too much power in your hands. Perhaps you ought to go back to 'Al.' Then you wouldn't have to worry about intimidating even a baby."
Al scowled, but I could see a hint of a smile in his eyes.
"Albus is a perfectly scary name," he said loftily.
"Yeah, scary to puppies, maybe. Or kittens. Your choice...though I've always been more of a cat person, and I'm afraid Sir Archibald will ignore you forever if you say puppies."
He rolled his eyes again before leaning his chin lightly on the top of my head.
"How did you get down here?" I asked finally, pulling back slightly so that I could meet his eyes.
He sobered, his mouth tightening as his eyes became troubled once more. "The Ministry's in shambles. We lost half of the Aurors to Muggle-watch duty. Everything's on fire – it's hard to discern friend from foe. I don't even fully know who we're fighting. I ran down here as quickly as I could; I'm sure it's the Bulgarians' sponsors. They'll want to reach the phoenix."
I nodded, unconsciously tightening my fingers around the fabric of his shirt.
"Right, that was why I came down here too."
"I've already been to the room with the Timeturners and another one filled with poisonous lava. I haven't had any luck finding the phoenix."
"Neither have I. I went to a space room and…this one. Al, I saw my parents here. I was a Slytherin and you were a Gryffindor. But you know what the scariest part is? I still have no idea what this room does."
"This is one of two twin rooms," came a serene voice from behind Al. I stiffened immediately, straining to make out a figure in the shadows.
To my surprise, Al remained relaxed. His arm was still loosely around my waist, and he turned slightly to say casually, "I found one Unspeakable, by the way. Merlin knows where the rest of them are."
A slim figure cloaked in black stepped out of the darkness, his pale face thrown into harsh contrast by the eerie blue light. His mouth was a slash of writhing, dark shadow and his eyes hollowed absences. He looked like a ghost...or Death. I shivered, swallowing thickly as I watched him warily.
He slowly raised two slender hands to pull his dark hood from his face, revealing golden hair and off-putting yellow-grey eyes.
"Hello, Adela," he said calmly. I stared at him for six seconds, Numberita struggling to place his features.
He looked very familiar…did I know him from Hogwarts? I didn't know any Unspeakables…or at least I thought I didn't.
His lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
"Careful. There are a lot of Nargles behind you," he continued, his eyes fixated on the empty wall behind me. Wait.
Lysander? Merlin, I hadn't known he'd become an Unspeakable. But then again, I hadn't really kept track of many of my former classmates. The last I'd heard of him, he and Lily were in a steady relationship back in their seventh year.
"Erm…hi, Lysander," I said feebly, offering an awkward motion of my hand that could have been a wave but could also have been a signal that I was choking. He inclined his head gracefully.
"The Ministry has two twin rooms in the Department of Mystery. One shows you your greatest nightmare. The other your greatest desire," he said, stumbling almost imperceptibly over the word 'twin.'
I paused, mulling his words over carefully. So this was the room that showed me my greatest…
Wait. I had no idea which of the rooms this one was. On the one hand it had showed a neater, loved version of myself clad in the Slytherin green I had obsessed over for much of my life. On the other it had showed …well, myself clad in the Slytherin green that would serve as my defining prison for the rest of my life.
"Which one was this?" I finally asked, my voice trembling slightly. What if this was the room that showed my greatest desire? Could I still be harboring some desire to be accepted by my label-obsessed family?
He smiled sadly at me. "Only you can answer that."
I scowled, desperation clawing its way into my voice. "So, you become an Unspeakable and suddenly you can only spout cryptic rubbish?"
He shrugged, his face still eerily serene. "It appears so."
I suppressed the urge to scream in frustration. Calm down, Adela. I forced myself to count to ten and then to thirty when counting to ten wasn't sufficient. As my heartbeat slowed once more and I no longer felt the urge to punch the wall, Numberita regained the ability to think clearly. Why was I so worried about this? Who cared which room this was? What mattered was that I'd finally faced my father, that I'd finally shut the door on that chapter of my life.
Al dipped his head, his lips brushing my right ear. "I met him in the lava room. Apparently he got distracted by some Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in another room and got separated from the rest of the Unspeakables. He doesn't know where they are now."
I nodded slowly before disentangling myself from Al. I approached Lysander carefully, offering a hand to shake. Up close he looked much older, premature wrinkles creasing his forehead and chin. He was still as skinny as ever, his chin sharp and his eyes disconcertingly large in his pale face. For a second I saw another blonde boy, one with the softer features that came with youth. Lorcan. Another wave of grief hit me as strongly as it had the day Lorcan had died. Had Lorcan's death inspired Lysander to become an Unspeakable, to isolate himself from the outside world? Unspeakables were often recluses, remaining deep within the Department of Mysteries for most of the day and night.
Lysander shook my hand carefully.
"Do you know where they keep the contraband materials? Say, like a phoenix?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Not even the Unspeakables can fully navigate the Department of Mysteries. I can get you into the actual room, but I don't know anymore than you do when it comes to navigating this maze."
I sighed, my shoulders slumping slightly. We'd still need to get through these rooms – and quickly. Who knew if the attackers were even still down here? How much time had passed since I'd first entered this crazed place?
Al came up behind me, reassuring in his warm presence. He absently tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind my left ear, leaving trails of fire wherever his graceful fingers brushed my cheek.
"Well, there's no time like the present," he said determinedly.
Lysander watched us carefully, his face still blank.
"I always knew you would get back together," he said offhandedly. Then he turned with a swish of his black cloak and led the way out of the room. I exchanged a look with Al before hurrying after the Unspeakable.
After entering the central room once more and once the walls had settled down somewhat, Al surveyed the doors carefully before motioning to one directly to the right of my first door.
"That's the room with the Timeturners," he said. "I marked it with a simple fire spell. The one to its right is the one with the lava."
Well, at least that was something. Now we only had to check seven more rooms at the most.
"Would you like to do the honors?" he asked lightly, waving towards the next door with a flourish of his arm. My lips twitched unbidden into a small smile.
"Well, when you put it that way, how can I resist?" I walked towards the next stone door, pushing it with a nudge of my foot. To my surprise, the door, unlike the others, moved very slowly, almost as if something was pressing against it from the inside. I frowned, bringing up my knee to kick it in forcefully.
Though I applied more than enough force to open it, it still creaked open very reluctantly. I kicked it once more, loud enough to release a bang that resonated across the silent chamber. Al tensed behind me, relaxing only after twenty-two seconds of silence.
I finally managed to push it open with a few grunts and the help of my whole body weight. When the door finally slid open, I stumbled backwards in surprise.
A wall of pulsing water stood directly behind the doorway, defying gravity as it stood perpendicular to the stone floor. Whoa. That took some serious magic to uphold. A strong displacement spell, an anti-gravity binding...Merlin, Numberita couldn't even fathom all the different spells needed to maintain this Department.
"What in Merlin's beard is this?" Al asked. Lysander approached the wall of water solemnly, reaching out his hand to brush against the water. The surface pulsed for a moment before allowing his fingers to slip through. He waved his fingers once before withdrawing them slowly, holding his hand up to indicate that it was dripping wet.
"This room leads to the place where we keep the rare animals," he said.
I stared at the dark water with more than a little trepidation. I had no idea what was behind that wall of water. Something large and fast was approaching – I squinted my eyes, my hand drifting towards my wand as the animal approached.
"A-Al-" I began, panic shooting through my words as the animal drifted lazily past the small doorway with a flick of its tail. I could clearly see a shark's fin jutting proudly from the top of its streamlined body as the predator swam away with a flick of its forked tail.
After a couple seconds of dumbfounded silence, I whispered half-jokingingly, "Holy Sethogriff, we are going to die."
"Why in the bloody hell does the Ministry have this room?" Al demanded, turning to Lysander. "And who thought it would be a good idea to put the animal storage in it?"
Lysander shrugged. "Someone who loved the ocean, I suppose."
While Al and Lysander were speaking, I tentatively edged my way towards the pulsing wall of water. Though the water rippled energetically, the actual surface of the wall appeared to be completely flat, probably following the line of the ward that enclosed the water inside. Merlin, the amount of power needed to contain such a volume of water...not even considering the immense pressure that came naturally with great depth. I knelt down, my knees pressing against the cold, slightly damp stone floor, and craned my neck upwards, straining to catch a glimpse of the water's surface. Nothing. Only dark, dark water.
Lysander withdrew a small pouch from within his robes and opened it carefully, withdrawing a bunch of some dark plant.
"Gillyweed," he said, holding it in his palms. Gillyweed. Wasn't that what Al's father had used in the Triwizard tournament? It had allowed him to breathe underwater for about an hour.
I eyed the plant warily, my eyes darting back to the foreboding water ahead.
I'd always hated swimming.
I exchanged a look with Al before standing with a heavy sigh. I took the offered plant and downed it in a single gulp, wincing as the slimy vegetable slid down my throat. Beside me Al was also grimacing, his hands going to his neck as his skin began to convulse. I could already feel the effects of the plants as my lungs began to feel as if they were being pumped forcefully into a vortex. My neck began to itch as gills appeared, and I began to have difficulty breathing.
The webbing between my fingers grew, leaving my hands slow and clumsy in the dry air of the chamber. I kicked off my trainers. Al brushed his arm against mine in reassurance. I smiled nervously at him, pressing the back of my hand against his.
What if we got separated in the water?
My eyes fell on the glowing length that still trailed behind me. The rope! Stooping quickly, I clumsily grasped the smooth length with my webbed hands, my breaths rasping painfully against my throat as I hurried to tie it around my waist. Then I threw it to Al, motioning for him to do the same. A flash of admiration went through his eyes, and he quickly secured it around his lean torso before giving it to Lysander.
Well, it was now or never. I slipped slowly into the wall of water, feeling the liquid press against me stubbornly before reluctantly allowing my body through its surface. Fortunately the water was oddly warm, and though the liquid dragged at my trousers and shirt with greedy pulls, the gillyweed enabled me to swim with relative ease.
As soon as we had passed through the archway, the stone door slid shut silently behind us. I forced myself not to panic as our only exit was closed off, leaving us stranded in the seemingly endless water. All I could see below and above me was water. Even after only sixteen seconds in the water, I had no idea which way was up or which way was down.
Lysander tapped my sleeve, motioning that we were to flank him. Al and I readily obliged, warily eying our surroundings. Thankfully the same odd blue light filtered through the water, illuminating our surroundings with just enough light to get by. The occasional flash from a jellyfish lit up the depths, and blurred dark forms swam slowly in the distance. I only hoped that we didn't run into any sharks. Or mermaids; they were bloody scary.
We swam slowly downwards, pushing webbed hands and feet through the thick water. My rope trailed behind us, emitting a faint blue light that dimly lit the water directly surrounding us. Something slimy brushed against my leg, and I suppressed a shudder. I didn't want to even think about all the unknown animals swimming around us.
The water grew darker as we swam deeper and deeper, the water pressing heavily against us as the pressure increased. How much time had passed? The Gillyweed would only last an hour, and if the pressure kept increasing as much as it was we'd die from that even before oxygen deprivation.
I nudged Lysander with my elbow, making a questioning motion with my arms (or at least what I hoped was a questioning motion - it mainly just involved flailing my arms around, so he might have just thought I was having a panic attack or something like that) when he looked over. Luckily he seemed to understand my question, for he pointed ahead. I followed his arm, my eyes narrowing as I struggled to make out what he was pointing at.
There. A single white marble doorway lay nestled in a bed of dark, gleaming rock that I hadn't noticed before. Finally!
I began to swim more enthusiastically, forcing my tired limbs to claw at the water as I struggled to move forward. A sharp tug to my waist jerked my body backwards, my legs flinging forward as I drifted back towards Al and Lysander. Ouch. That had hurt! I threw the duo an accusatory look, and Al shrugged, pointing to Lysander.
I directed my accusatory gaze at Lysander, but my hurt frown quickly slipped off my face when I saw the frantic expression on his face.
What…?
He pulled desperately at the rope connecting our bodies, straining to pull me forward. Al frowned, then looked at the area directly behind me. His eyes widened for a split second, then his eyebrows furrowed as they always did when he was trying to hide his emotions. His face forcibly calm, he beckoned me towards him, maintaining steady eye contact with me.
Well, now Numberita was panicking. But I trusted Al, and he wouldn't have tried to hide his panic unless it was really bad. I knew that I wasn't a naturally brave person, and if I looked behind me at whatever terror was lurking, I would panic and then we would all die. So, though all I wanted to do was curl up and cry, I swam slowly towards Al, keeping my eyes fixed on his the whole time.
Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look -
Something scaly scraped against my bare foot, and my skin smarted as the sharp surface sliced into the skin of my heel. I whimpered, a few bubbles escaping from my mouth. Al was pulling at the rope now, the muscles in his arms straining as he pulled me forward.
The thing slid against my calf now, tearing easily through the singed material of my trousers. I recoiled, hissing again as I felt my skin rupture. Shoot. With all this blood, the sharks were sure to come soon -
I tried to hurry my pace, struggling to keep my thrashing heart as calm as possible as I kept my eyes on the slowly, slowly decreasing distance between us.
Six meters. Five meters and ⅞. Five meters and -
Collision.
Author Note: This was supposed to be a short chapter. Ha..ha...ha….(sobbing) Anyway, thank you all so much for reading/reviewing! It seriously means so much to me, and your response always inspires me! c: As always, all reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter.