The Trio paddled forward, finally reaching the stone dock, where they disembarked. Hermione lashed the boat to one of the strange stone pillars with a muttered Incarcerous, and joined Harry and Ron in taking in the island.
There wasn't much to take in, in truth. The dock was situated in a small cove, next to a stubby granite guard tower, and a winding path laid with white stones, which lead up to a twisted staircase made out of the same material. The rest of the island seemed to be elevated, and the cove they were standing in was dwarfed by cliffs rising twenty feet above the waterline, jutting out slightly.
Harry bent down and dragged his finger along one of the paving stones. It resembled chalk, interestingly, and felt like it too. But dragging his nail along it, he found that he couldn't scratch it, or put a groove in it.
"Enchanted you reckon?" Harry asked, looking up at Hermione who was watching him.
"Likely," She said, frowning a bit. Her enthusiasm had been tempered, now that she was actually in Cad Gadu, placed to the side so that her sober paranoia would come streaming forth, a wariness born of hunting cursed items in old ruined locations. "Look at the ground beside the stones. The dirt is dark brown, and these stones have been here for quite possibly over a thousand years. They should have degraded, eroded even. We should be seeing chalk dust lightening the soil. But these are pristine."
They stood there for a moment, before Ron took the initiative to walk along the path, and start scaling the staircase. Unwilling to be left behind, Harry and Hermione hurried over to him and followed.
"You know, it's a good thing this is chalk," Ron said, focusing his attention on placing his feet on each stair. "If this stuff were marble, a light rain would turn it into an absolute deathtrap. Slick as soap and deadly as a curse."
He wasn't wrong, in fairness. The steps were poorly formed and uneven, twisting back on itself and then back in the original direction, with only the space for climbing in single file. A steep incline and no guard rails made it daunting to ascend, especially since ironically, it was too low to the ground to feasibly get off a Slowing Charm or Cushioning Charm and break one's fall.
Fortunately, the chalk steps provided more than enough grip, and they all made it up to the top without issue. The path continued on, bright white under the sun, and passed through a pair of free standing white pillars, also made of chalk.
"You know, I think that people who say that ruins need to be dark and grimy in order to be spooky, are absolutely full of it." Harry said blandly, gripping his wand as his gaze flicked from side to side. "It's a bright, sunny day in the mountains of Wales, and I feel like I'm sneaking through a graveyard."
The island was bright and sunny in fairness, with green grass and small colorful flowers. The white stone path was surrounded on both sides, by three stone cottages, somewhat reminiscent of Hagrid's house actually, with stables attached to one of them. The two cottages without stables seemed to have been built up against a set of crumbling stone ruins, incorporating the old masonry, which seemed to suggest that a large building had been built there.
"It's too well preserved," Hermione muttered darkly, wand out. "Even the ruins should be, well, more ruined. We should be seeing foundations under a half foot of dirt and debris, but it looks like it's been stuck in time."
Ron strolled over to one of the cottages, wand held at the ready, and pushed open the wooden door, which too seemed to have escaped decay.
"Blimey, Hermione, Harry, come look at this," He said glancing back at her.
When the two joined Ron, and peered inside. The cottage was fully furnished, with a elaborate red and gold carpet over the stone floor. The table and chairs were covered in several rolls of parchment, as well as a set of quills and ink pot, and the fire was blazing merrily in the hearth.
"Hello?" Harry called out, projecting his voice. There was no response, merely a faint noise coming from the fire which sounded almost like a fan gently pushing air around. "Is anyone there?"
"Honestly Harry, you call yourself a wizard," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"It's the polite approach," Harry protested, looking wounded.
"Homenum Revelio," Hermione cast, waving her wand broadly to encompass the cottage. She frowned, and cast two more times, covering different areas, and pointing her wand vaguely in the direction of the other cottages.
"We appear to be alone here," Hermione said, tapping her wand on her lip thoughtfully. "Not sure when he or she will be returning."
"Don't the Auror's have diagnostic spells?" Ron asked. "You know, if some bloke gets offed, and they want to find out what happened."
"Yes," Hermione said slowly, a bit of reluctance in her tone. "I know the theory anyway, but I've never cast it. Don't laugh at me if I mess it up."
Harry and Ron were quick to give assurances that they wouldn't make fun of her. Mollified, Hermione very slowly and deliberately went through an unfamiliar wand motion, and cast with clear and precise enunciation.
"Homenum Narratio Revelio"
The spell was slow to start, but a rainbow of what looked like conjured ink flowed from her wand, and began spreading across the room. Impressions of footprints formed out of green ink, where each of the Trio had stepped, and a green hand-print appeared where Ron had touched the door. But the rest of the floor seemed to fill up with dozens, soon hundreds of dark footprints, ranging from a dark purple, to a dark maroon, to brown and black. The ink showed no signs of stopping, as it gradually covered the room with places where people had rested their hands, feet, any part of their body.
"Curious," Hermione said, nonplussed. "Very curious."
"Care to share with the class?" Harry said, exasperated. "You keep up like that, and you're going to turn into a right Ollivander, making creepy mysterious observations and not bothering to share with the rest of the class."
"The Narrative Revealing spell detects when humans have touched objects," Hermione started, eyes darting to the footprints on the ground. She dragged her hand down the door, leaving behind a trail of magic resembling bright green paint. "Assuming I've done it correctly, we should see the most recent physical contact."
"Sure," Harry said. "So, I can take a guess and assume that the most recent is green yeah? If these are all color coded by age, then what are these black ones?"
"The color should be roughly correlated with emotion, which gets determined by the caster. Green for curiosity, red for anger, purple for sadness or depression. I might have messed that up, but its not as important for our purposes." Hermione explained. "But the brightness and darkness of the spell is determined by age, relative to all of the imprints caught up in the spell. So the most recent visitors here were probably six hundred, maybe seven hundred years ago? Those being the dark red and purple. The black are older, and quite a bit more numerous."
"Are you telling me that this fire has been burning for seven hundred years?" Ron asked skeptically.
"It could be an elf," Harry pointed out. "They shouldn't be caught up in that spell because they aren't human."
Ron headed over to the fire, intent on assuaging his curiosity.
"Looks like its enchanted fire of some sort," He said, squatting down to get a proper look inside the hearth. "There's no firewood, or even ashes inside, just what looks to be a ring of iron where the flames are appearing from."
"Well that was anticlimactic," Harry said dryly, as Ron stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers. "So what now?"
"The Baron said that we need to find the basement of this place," Hermione said thoughtfully. She pulled out the book, and leafed over to the page she had marked. "The trouble is that any conventional basement shouldn't be possible. We are an island in the middle of a lake, so digging down should flood any such rooms. The thing is though, the book also mentions that walking the footpath allows one to descend further into the region."
"That's promising," Ron said, spinning one of the chairs around and sitting in it backwards, facing Hermione. "Not sure how you can 'descend' with that chalk path, unless it's another translation issue. But I am game to try it."
Ron looked at Harry, who gave an unconcerned shrug, and Hermione who pursed her lips before reading the passage again, and finally gave her assent.
"Right then, time to follow the yellow brick road everybody," Ron said, a loud burst of laughter coming from him as he grinned in Hermione's direction.
"I give him a single Muggle book to start teaching him culture," Hermione bemoaned. "And what does he do? Start working Wizard of Oz references into everything, no matter how tortured."
"A white chalk walking path is a touch different, in color, composition, and material," Harry agreed humorously.
"Well if you didn't want me to quote L. Frank Baum all the time, you should have bought me another book," Ron sniped back, still grinning like a fool.
"I did buy you other books!" Hermione raged. "You said they were all boring."
"They were boring!"
"Dostoevsky is not boring! His books are literary classics! Just because you have no taste, does not change that fact!"
Harry tuned out the two arguing, as they once again walked on the chalk path. They passed the ruins of the stone building without much ceremony, and eventually came near the chalk pillars on either side of the path.
It was interesting. There were ostensibly only the few buildings on the island, and the path went past them. Harry supposed there could be another beach on the other side, mirroring the dock, but something in his gut told him that was wrong.
The Trio passed through the pillars, and the world appeared to blur, before righting itself. They were still on the island, but now new structures were clearly visible, a pair of U shaped buildings on either side of the path, which appeared to split into two roads marked by trilithons, the standing stones that one might find at Stonehenge, made of that same strange chalk substance. Looking back, the cottages and ruins had disappeared, and so too had the stairs to the dock.
They collectively paused for a moment to take in the change.
"Blimey, that's a trip," Ron said, looking around. "This is a different place, innit? These buildings might have been under illusion, but there would be no point in hiding the cottages once we'd passed through the pillars, and they're clearly not there anymore."
"Imagine coming all this way, and the only thing we find is the first tolerable mode of Wizarding transportation," Harry said, snickering.
"Yes, yes, very funny," Hermione said, clearly not particularly amused. "I think I am a complete idiot. This isn't a region, this is a regio."
"Hermione, you're not an idiot," Harry sighed with a long-suffering tone, trying to calm the agitated witch. "Talk to us, what are we missing."
"The book said that traveling the path would allow us to descend into the region," Hermione said, still clearly annoyed. "I thought it was a weird bit of translation, but regio is actually a distinct magical concept, and I can't believe I didn't make the connection."
"Was it a distinct magical concept that was covered in our schooling?" Ron asked skeptically. "Because I don't think I've ever heard of such a thing."
"Well, no, strictly speaking. It wasn't actually on the curriculum," Hermione said hesitantly, knowing full well that her friends would argue against her self-deprecation, appealing to the idea that bits of random trivia referenced in a single book, read on one of her extra-curricular projects, did not constitute evidence for idiocy.
"Well there you go," Ron said triumphantly. "So what are regios?"
"Well, a singular regio, or plural regiones, are very rare natural phenomena. Essentially, it happens when a magical aura overlaps with a different aura, and rather than being forced out, is forced upwards, creating patches of overlapping space." Hermione explained, pulling her handbag off her shoulders, and opening the mouth to demonstrate.
"They were actually the precursor to, and inspiration for Extension Charms, like my bag, or like the tent we use. Though from what I understand, they are almost impossible to make intentionally, and moreover, have strange rules for how to navigate. It looks like this one just requires walking the path to visit other levels, with the standing stones marking points of egress."
"Right. Well, we've got two buildings here. How do we want to do this?" Ron asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"We aren't in any rush," Harry shrugged. "No real need to split up, and considering there might be nasty spells still laying around, it's probably wise if we stick together. As far as the buildings go, flip on it?"
"Here, I've got a sickle in my pocket," Hermione contributed, resting the silver piece on the palm of her hand, face up. "Heads for right building, tails for left?"
Harry and Ron murmured their assent, and Hermione flicked the sickle with her thumb, the nail on metal making a distinctive ting noise as the shiny blur flew into the air, before Hermione caught it and slapped it on her arm.
"Heads it is," She announced, lifting her hand to reveal the face of the coin.
With that settled, the three walked towards the center of the building, ignoring the two wings which seemed to box them in on either side as they entered the U shape. The building seemed to be made of some plain gray stone, perhaps granite, or slate, which was devoid of decoration. In the center, a gnarled wooden double door marked the entrance, covered in iron rivets with a surprisingly elaborate iron handle.
Ron reached for the door, but appeared to think better of it, and conjured a white cloth which he covered his hand in, before pulling the wrought-iron handle.
"Best be cautious," He said sagely, catching Harry and Hermione looking at him strangely. "Remember Katie Bell got nicked by that cursed necklace back in sixth year? When Malfoy was trying to off Dumbledore? A hint of skin contact was all it took."
"That's not a bad idea actually," Hermione said approvingly. She dug around in her purse, and managed to retrieve a pair of leather gloves, which she promptly donned. "Do you want some Harry? I don't have any other leather, but I think I have spare potion-making gloves."
"I doubt they'd fit," Harry said, smirking, as he wiggled his fingers to show off the size of his hands. He summoned the cloth out of Ron's hands, causing the latter to give him an annoyed look, before he separated it using a cutting charm, and transfigured his half into a pair of white gloves. He tossed the other half back to Ron, who did the same.
Pulling the door open revealed a surprisingly cozy interior, similar to Hogwarts. The floor was stone, but was covered in a red carpet which extended the length of the corridor. A few paintings were left on the walls, depicting old wizards, and some landscapes. They weren't moving interestingly, either having been painted by Muggles, or painted prior to the invention of moving portraits.
Along the corridor, which seemed to run the length of the central wing, were doors regularly placed on either side of the hall.
Peeking inside revealed a small bedroom, with a wooden cot in the corner with a mattress stuffed with straw placed within. To the side was an unremarkable wooden writing desk, with several quills, as well as the ingredients for making ink in a drawer.
"Guest rooms you reckon?" Harry asked, looking back.
"Probably," Hermione replied, closing the door to the adjacent room. All of the rooms appeared to be identical, and all equally empty.
Wandering through the building, the Trio soon discovered that the East Wing was a sort of amphitheater, with descending levels of stone benches arranged in a semi circle around an elevated platform at the bottom. It was strikingly reminiscent of the Ministry courtroom that Harry found himself in, while he was being tried for the Dementor incident prior to fifth year.
Instead of a chair with animated chains on it though, a set of four stone thrones were placed in an arc, facing the seats of the amphitheater. The stone was unadorned, and rather than having been placed there, appeared to have grown from the stone floor and shaped into thrones, like a potter working clay rather than a mason chiseling rock.
The West Wing in contrast, appeared to be blocked off, it's wooden doors shut and locked, and a series of truly formidable wards covering it with a noticeable crackle.
"Any thoughts on that one?" Ron asked, eyeing the ward boundary with no small amount of trepidation.
"Library. I'd bet my life on it." Hermione said confidently. "De Tribunali Britanniae indicated that Cad Gadu was famous for it's library, which unfortunately fell into disrepair following years of mismanagement, as well as an infestation of something called 'visworms'. At any rate, it mentioned that the library was probably the most secure location in Cad Gadu, owing to years of effort by expert warders."
"I can see that," Harry said, letting out a low whistle. "Though I thought warders traditionally use ward stones. Has that changed recently? Ron, your brother is a curse-breaker, does this look familiar to you?"
"Maybe a little?" Ron said, a bit of uncertainty entering his voice, and causing him to end his sentence like a question. "I think chalk sounds familiar, Bill mentioned something about it, but I don't really know much more than that."
The wards in question were indeed not tied to any ward stone, or enchanted object, but rather appeared to be concentric circles drawn on the wall around the library door, spilling out onto the ground. The circles were drawn in chalk, and each layer appeared to have some sort of runes drawn just above the solid lines, long scripts of mysterious text trailing down the walls to follow the path of the circle.
"Hermione, you took Ancient Runes didn't you?" Ron asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Any thoughts on what the marks are?"
"I am struggling a bit, I confess," Hermione said, biting her lip in frustration. "Most of the work we did with Professor Babbling was with Norse runes, primarily the Elder Futhark, as well as the Younger Futhark. Also the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, but only the portions after the 1800's reconstruction. But this is Ogam."
"Ok," Ron said, after Hermione trailed off into silence. "And what exactly is the trouble with Ogam?"
"Well the trouble is I don't bloody well read Ogam, isn't it?" Hermione snapped at him. "I wonder if I can get a reference book from Pince?"
"Alright, calm down Hermione," Harry said, hoping to talk her down before she and Ron got in a row. "Lets go ahead and simply Apparate back to Hogwarts, and we can simply spend the night there. That will give you some time to check the library for any books you think might be relevant."
"Too right mate," Ron said, a relieved look crossing his face as Harry saved him from Hermione's ire. "Meet you all at the front gate."
Ron turned on his heel, as if to Apparate, and fell flat on his face. Instantly, the Trio switched gears, into the twitchy adrenaline filled paranoia they were so accustomed to.
"Anti-Apparation Jinx," Harry reported grimly, leveling a burning stare at the corridor they came from as his eyes scanned for movement.
"Ron, get up. We might have company." Hermione said, roughly pulling him to his feet.
"Episkey. Tergeo," She cast, tapping her wand against Ron's broken nose, causing it to mend with an audible snap, and whisking the blood off.
"Not a jinx I reckon," Ron said, still a bit stunned from the head impact. He rubbed his nose carefully, trying to make sure everything was in the right place. "Felt different. If you try to Apparate at Hogwarts, or under a jinx, it feels like you hit a wall, and bounce off. Here, it felt like I reached for my destination, and kept reaching until I couldn't stretch any farther. Then I snapped back, and fell."
"Different kind of ward?" Harry asked, looking back to Hermione and slightly lowering his wand.
"I don't even think it's that." Hermione said, frowning. "I'm going to Apparate three meters forwards."
She twisted in place, and appeared just down the hallway with the sound of two simultaneous whip cracks going off, both where she was standing and where she arrived.
"I bet it's the regio. Folded space and what not. I think we need to leave along the path before we can Apparate out. We can still move within this layer of the regio, but we can't cross the layer without obeying it's rules." Hermione said, scowling. While having someone actively chasing them would undoubtedly be the worse outcome, none of the Trio were overly enthused these days about not being able to Apparate out of an unfamiliar place.
"I don't know about you lot, but I am not sleeping here tonight." Ron said, now fully recovered. "If we have to walk out, and Apparate back to Hogwarts for the night, so be it."
"I don't know if we need to go that far," Harry said thoughtfully, relaxing now that they were sure they were reasonably safe. "Hermione, you said that people can Apparate within the regio levels, just not between them, right? If we walk back along the path, to the original ruins and cottages, we might be able to Apparate there, since its the ground floor, so to speak."
"Top floor might be the better analogy, but I broadly agree. Besides, if we can't Apparate out now, I find myself wanting to verify that we can still exit along the path, and aren't trapped in here." Hermione said.
With that, the Trio began making their way back out of the building, and into the sunlight. They ignored the other building opposite them, in favor of stepping on to the chalk walking path and retracing their steps.
"Right, so it's the pillars that mark the exit yeah?" Ron asked nervously as they approached.
"In theory," Hermione said grimly, wand clenched in her hand.
But to their relief, walking through the pillars simply made the world blur momentarily, before the large buildings had been replaced by the tiny cottages and ruins.
"Right then. Apparation checks?" Ron asked Hermione, letting out a sigh of relief as a grin crossed his face.
"Not quite. Just because we might be able to Apparate out, doesn't mean we can Apparate in. I'll Apparate to Hogwarts, and back again. If I fail to come back, I might have to pop in at the dock outside the lake, and take the boat across again. I'll send a Patronus to keep you lot in the loop."
"We might want to head down to the docks anyways. At the very least, we'll need to spell the boat to go back across so you aren't stuck. That or you can shrink it, I suppose," Harry mused.
With a sensible course of action in mind, the three friends made their way back down to the dock, carefully making sure not to slip on the treacherous steps. Once there, Hermione tapped the boat with her wand, spelling it to sail itself back to the stone dock on the other side, before twisting in place with a loud crack.
Several tense minutes passed, as Harry and Ron waited for a response. Thankfully, their concerns were alleviated as a flash of silver revealed a gleaming white otter Patronus, playfully swimming about mid-air.
"I've managed to make it to Hogwarts, just in front of the front gate. I tried Apparating back, but was blocked, this time by a more standard ward. I went to the other dock though, so success there. The boat seems to be taking it's time though, so I'll head back to the library for a few hours and try to get a reference book for Ogam runes. You two, stay put on the island, and don't go exploring into the regio without me. I don't know if Patronuses can reach between regio boundaries, and don't want to test it. Do me a favor, and set up the tent. Sleeping at Hogwarts means Apparating to the gate, walking all the way in, and then the next day walking out, Apparating and sailing across again. Save yourselves the trouble, and get my bed ready." The otter spoke with Hermione's voice, it's playful nature somewhat at odds with the sober tone she was taking. It's message delivered, it fizzled into a shower of silvery sparks, which slowly vanished.
Harry looked at Ron, a slightly bored look on his face.
"I'll cook if you want to set up the tent." He offered, giving Ron the easier duty.
"Neither of us will be doing anything, because Hermione forgot to leave her bag with us," Ron retorted.
Harry was silent for a moment, as he glanced at Ron, then at himself, to verify that neither of them were carrying the bag. Once he had confirmed it, he burst out laughing at Hermione's shortsightedness.
"Harry, it's not that funny." Ron said, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Yes it bloody is," Harry said, still howling with laughter. "Just because she's your girl now doesn't mean you don't have to take the mickey out of her."
"Ok, it's a little funny," Ron said, a reluctant grin crossing his face. "But what are we going to do in the meantime?"
"Well, I'm tempted to go into the regio and explore the other building, but…" Harry said, trailing off.
"Hermione would likely murder us." Ron finished. "Up for a game of chess?"
"Ron, we don't have a chessboard on us," Harry said condescendingly, pointing out the obvious.
"Harry, we are wizards," Ron said even more condescendingly, transfiguring a pebble into a chess piece to punctuate his point.
"Actually, there's an idea," Harry said thoughtfully. "I'm not super keen on chess at the moment. Foregone conclusion and all, since I know you'll trounce me. But you remember first year, when McGonagall made that giant chessboard?"
"Sure," Ron said nostalgically. "Greatest game of my life. Most painful one too. I'm still surprised my ribs were intact at the end of that game."
"Can't disagree with you there mate," Harry said, thinking back to that fiasco. "Anyways, what if we do transfiguration battles. I make a wolverine, you make a bear, we see what beats what."
"Harry, I know what beats what," Ron said, a skeptical look on his face. "Namely, Hermione is going to beat us, by hexing us into the ground for animal cruelty."
"We don't need to do the full transfiguration," Harry said, placing a hand to his chest, the very model of innocence. "We aren't trying to get a grade from McGonagall, we're just having a bit of fun. As long as we use stone animals with a bit of animation, she can't complain."
"Fair enough," Ron said, acquiescing likely out of boredom more than any compelling argument. "What kind of stone you think? Metal chessboards, and frankly the stone ones too, are charmed to be a lot weaker. They're more popular if the queen can break the arms of a pawn, rather than chip the stonework."
"Chalk I reckon. We don't need to spend the extra effort to weaken the stone if it already crumbles in your hand."
With that, Harry departed to fetch a couple large rocks from the shore, while Ron was tasked with making an arena for them to fight in. Ron flicked his wand, cutting the grass and banishing the clippings, to resemble the turf of a Quidditch field. He began raising a miniature stone wall to border the outside of the circular patch he was working on, before adding some miniature seats on a whim.
"Blimey Ron, we just need a space for them to fight, I wasn't expecting the Roman Colosseum." Harry said as he returned, levitating several large boulders behind him. He had transfigured them into boulders of bright white chalk, checking it's hardness by banishing a small granite pebble at it, and blasting a spray of chalk shrapnel and dust off of where the stone impacted the boulder.
"I'm covering myself Harry," Ron said confidently, a grin on his face. "A girl like Hermione respects effort. Even if she vaguely disapproves of this, you know she will disapprove more if I were a slacker while doing it. That's why I can get away with cheating at Exploding Snap with Dean, as long as I write up my strategies for her afterwards."
"You're taking the piss," Harry exclaimed incredulously. "You do homework so she doesn't rat you out to Dean?"
"Sure," Ron replied. "In Hermione's mind, laziness is a moral failing, and so is err, bending the rules of play. But cheating in itself, isn't as bad as cheating badly or lazily to her. It's all about motivation, and working sufficiently hard to achieve it."
"Merlin," Harry said, shaking his head. "Seven years in school, and she still hasn't got her priorities straight. It's a good thing we were there to keep her on the straight and narrow, otherwise Malfoy would have mouthed off for the last time, and then we'd all be dealing with Dark Lady Granger."
"She's gotten better," Ron protested, dutifully defending his lover. "Remember? Dead, or worse, expelled."
"I'll give you that one." Harry laughed.
"Though admittedly, you might be exaggerating a bit about the straight and narrow part," Ron joked, somewhat guiltily. "Remember the Polyjuice second year? Hell, remember when she kept Skeeter in a jar for several months?"
"Skeeter deserved it though," Harry said, clearly not over his dislike for the woman.
"Not saying she didn't," Ron said, holding his hands up in surrender. "But for all the grief people give me, it's Hermione who has the vindictive streak a mile wide."
"And that's why we love her. And get hexed by her, but affection is a cruel mistress. Almost as cruel as Hermione." Harry laughed, a smile on his face as he recalled memories of angry birds, justified rule-breaking, captured reporters, unjustified rule-breaking, Hermione punching Malfoy, and any number of incidents which helped convince him that without them, Hermione would have snapped and gone dark long ago.
"Right then. So, in lieu of rules, I reckon you go first, and I'll transfigure something afterwards. Then we take turns, and see how long our creations can last before they get smashed." Ron said, bringing their attention back to their game.
"Well, I have to go traditional, don't I?" Harry laughed as he twisted his wand in a complicated gesture. The chalk boulder he had set by his feature twisted into a white lion, about the size of a terrier, which made an admirable attempt at roaring, considering it had no vocal cords. Which is to say, it clearly tried, before looking embarrassed at it's failure and slinking into the arena.
Ron stood there for a moment, looking at the lion, before he smirked and tapped his wand on his own boulder, transfiguring it into a pale donkey, a little taller than the lion but less well built.
"Really Ron, a donkey?" Harry laughed. "Not worried that you'll come off as an ass."
"What are you, American?" Ron retorted, a mock scowl on his face. "Go on Draco, you can beat that ugly lion. Do it for house pride."
"You named it Draco?" Harry cackled, clearly in stitches over the whole affair. Draco the donkey, seeming to glare at both of the wizards, and the lion, smartly hopped down into the arena.
The lion pounced the moment Draco hit the ground, clinging to the donkey's back and biting at where the spine might be while it's claws dug furrows into the chalk flesh.
"Go Draco, bash him against the seating!" Ron called out advice, while Harry booed at Ron's bias.
Draco, seemingly annoyed at the lion's claws, stumbled over to the stands and fell on the seating, squishing the lion with it's weight. It managed to dislodge it, but it wasn't pretty, the claws and teeth having dug out some nasty wounds which would be gushing blood on a real beast.
But Draco had the last laugh. While the lion was still getting to it's feet, Draco tossed it's neck as if shaking off flies, turned to face away from it, and lashed out with it's rear hoof, savagely kicking the lion and breaking it's jaw off.
"Blunt force Harry," Ron explained smugly. "Lions pierce flesh, but donkeys break bones. Which do you think is more useful against a stone beast?"
Harry rolled his eyes, but the competition was on. For the rest of the evening they played, intermittently adding more to the increasingly elaborate stadium they had constructed, which was starting to resemble the Roman Colosseum in truth.
"And what exactly are you two doing?" Hermione asked flatly, as she walked up, having evaded notice of either party. Harry and Ron looked guiltily at each other, and then to the Colosseum, which at this point featured a pride of stone lions, several chained chalk men who looked suspiciously like Death Eaters, and a jeering crowd throwing illusory fruit from the seats.
"Transfiguration homework," Ron said, somehow keeping a straight face.
"Does your Transfiguration homework typically involve chalk lions chewing on Rookwood's arm?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"It's for extra credit," Harry said, smirking. "Besides, you forgot to leave the bag with the tent, and we weren't about to explore deeper without you. We had to entertain ourselves."
"Indeed. Well, I've gotten the books I wanted. We can set up for this evening. In the meantime…" Hermione grinned, dropping the act, and transfigured one of the leftover pebbles into a stone tiger, which jumped into the arena and bit off Bellatrix's head. The body still writhed around, and eventually tried to make a break for it, but was quickly apprehended by lions.
They spent the rest of the evening laughing, eating, drinking, and transfiguring small animals. It truly felt like all was right in the world again.