Contemplating the waves crashing against the bow of the ship, Phineas could only think of Rosette. In the smile she allowed herself to give him as she bid him farewell, in her trust in the journalist's promise that they would start a new life once he returned, far away from anyone who could harm them. They wouldn't need to meet in secret anymore. And they would be happy again.
"Daydreaming, my friend?" the blond approached, placing a hand on Black's shoulder.
"A little," he replied, smiling.
"I hate to wake you up to reality, but we're almost there," Goodfellow said, a bit more serious.
Phineas nodded, his expression heavy. The country they were about to enter wasn't the free and joyful France he had visited in his youth, but a country occupied by the Nazis, dominated by fear and suspicion. And yet, it remained resistant in the shadows. If the artifact weren't so necessary to Dumbledore and so dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands, Black wouldn't risk it. Nor would he take a good friend like Goddriac with him.
That's why they didn't go straight to France, but to Portugal instead, where they would pick up a portal key that would take them to occupied Paris. Although officially neutral in the war, the Portuguese still maintained cordial relations with the United Kingdom, which was relatively contradictory, considering that their ruler, Salazar, had fascist tendencies but was sympathetic to the Allies.
It didn't take long for the contact arranged by Dumbledore to find them at the dock and discreetly signal to the two of them. He was a former student of Hogwarts, whom Goodfellow promptly recognized as a former Hufflepuff housemate.
The men discreetly walked toward him, and in a feigned shove, Goddriac took the golden galleon that would serve as the key.
"Desculpe," the former Hufflepuff murmured in heavily accented Portuguese, stepping back.
Once the other man was far enough, Phineas and Goddriac quickly made their way to a nearby alley.
The blond opened his hand, showing the golden coin to Black, who smiled in relief. The journalist placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, counting to three. They both involuntarily closed their eyes, and when they opened them, they were in a small apartment cluttered with books and scrolls. A middle-aged man, with gray hair visible at his temples, greeted them as he adjusted his glasses sliding down his nose.
"Goddriac, Black. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Professor Henri Lefoux," Phineas extended his hand. "The pleasure is all mine."
The man returned the handshake.
"So," Phineas continued, "did you really manage to locate the Aureos Oroburus Sibilae?"
The scholar nodded.
"It's in one of the Catacombs of Paris, in the wizarding part and deeper. I'll take you there, but I ask for a favor in return..."
Goodfellow furrowed his brow, slightly taken aback.
"That wasn't the agreement, Professor Lefoux."
The man shrugged, sighing deeply, almost folding into himself. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him at that moment, much like it did with Atlas in mythology. Things had gotten much worse in the last two days, and those Englishmen might be the only way to save a few more lives.
"I had a friend... Rudolph Evansberg... Maybe it's better if I show you..."
With a wave of his wand, Lefoux opened a secret passage behind a bookshelf. In a space barely fitting one person, there was a woman and three children. Their expressions were of pure desolation.
"This is Liesel Evansberg. And her children, Yossef, Hans, and Hannah."
"Bonsoir..." the woman murmured softly, holding her two-year-old daughter who slept in her arms. "Are these the Englishmen who can help us, Henri?"
Before the Frenchman could answer, Phineas stepped forward, exchanging a knowing glance with Goodfellow.
"Yes, it's us," Black replied.
As he packed his belongings into the backpack to enter the tunnels that cut through the underground of the French capital like an almost indecipherable maze, Phineas thought of the Jewish woman and her children hidden in Lefoux's house. The three wizards had conjured a strong protection spell together, enough to keep them safe while they were away.
Liesel slept embraced with the children on the professor's bed, which had been enlarged by him. From what she and the academic had told the Englishmen that afternoon, Rudolph had been murdered while dispatching his Muggle-born wife and children to the friend's house via Floo Powder.
Henri, startled by their sudden arrival, welcomed the fugitives while gathering information from some trusted friends. They were capturing the Jews residing in the city, both in the occupied and free zones, and imprisoning them in the Vélodrome d'Hiver, a former Parisian stadium. No water, no food, no basic sanitary conditions.
"Wouldn't a Fidelius Charm be safer?" Black heard Goodfellow ask. "One of us can be the Secret-Keeper."
"Certainly," the professor agreed. "But, if it were that simple, all the wizarding houses in the city would already be charmed. The only chance is for you to take them, hidden with Disillusionment Charms, to the city limits. I have a contact who promised to get a portal key back to Portugal. Portal keys are becoming increasingly rare to find on the black market..."
Goodfellow looked at Phineas, who simply nodded, understanding his friend's concerns. The risks were high, but they couldn't simply ignore a woman and children in danger. The eldest son was the same age as Marge and Bete.
"We're ready," the journalist said, putting the backpack on his back.
The men left the house, into the darkness of the night. The spells they had temporarily placed in the residence didn't allow them to Apparate from inside. They exchanged glances, and, after a nod, three "crack" sounds broke the silence of the night.
In the next instant, they were at the main entrance of the well-known "Les Carrières de Paris" – The Quarries of Paris. Although the most famous part was the ossuary, commonly called the Catacombs, those tunnels were much older, excavated since Roman times. Providing material for the construction of important places, such as the Cathedral of Notre Dame and the Louvre.
They were like underground veins cutting through the city, some parts becoming the home of millions of bones after the Saints-Innocents cemetery became a foul open-air mass grave, flooding Paris with its stench in 1780. In the following years, the bodies were transported underground.
However, not only bones found a new home. Several wizards took advantage of the movement to hide important and dangerous things. One of them was the Aureos Oroborus Sibilae, an ancient book stolen from Hogwarts in the 15th century. At least that's what Lefoux's research indicated. He had spent much of his academic life studying the artifact, and the last five years dismantling the magical protections of the tunnels that housed the Aureos.
Goodfellow looked at the entrance to the Catacombs, reading: Arrête! Cest ici l'empire de la mort – Stop! This is the Empire of Death. A shiver ran down his spine, and he thought to himself that in those dark times, especially in the occupied city, that was a palpable truth, not just beneath Paris. Although they were under the disguise of Disillusionment Charms, Goddriac wished he had an Invisibility Cloak at that moment.
Lefoux nodded, gesturing for the two men to follow him. The path they needed to take was far from the main entrance. He had already undone almost all of the book's defenses, but he needed one thing that only Black could provide. The blood of a descendant of one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight Families." Although the term had been coined in the 1930s, it basically meant that he needed someone from a very ancient lineage, descended only from pure-blood wizards. Although the Goddriacs were a traditional family, there were some half-bloods in their family tree.
The tunnels were quiet, dark, and damp, laden with melancholy. Or perhaps that feeling came from the men, who walked in silence, until Goodfellow, realizing how far they were from the surface and away from danger, decided to speak.
"What do you think is in the book?" he asked.
Lefoux pondered before answering, amid theories and uncertainties, he came to the conclusion he shared with Dumbledore.
"A key," he asserted. "The Aureos is a compendium of English pure-blood families, your name and Black's must be in it. There are sects that believe it reveals a prophecy. Dangerous people allied with Grindelwald. But I believe it's a key to something greater that the Four Founders hid to protect Hogwarts."
"Or to be used as a weapon," Phineas added, remembering Dumbledore's words. "Capable of destroying entire cities."
"A dragon, perhaps?" the blond asked, curious.
Unaware, Black began to laugh at such absurdity.
"What imagination, Good," he joked.
Goddriac laughed too but was serious.
"Have you never thought that the school motto could be about that? Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."
"Never tickle a sleeping dragon," Phineas translated almost automatically. "The Four Founders were powerful, but putting a dragon to sleep and putting it inside the castle! That would be beyond imagination."
"I find it plausible," Goodfellow insisted. "When I was at Hogwarts, I discovered a secret passage with that same inscription that led to a small chamber. There was a barrier, sealed by heavy curtains, which always prevented me from seeing what lay behind. Why not a dragon?"
"What do you think, Lefoux?" Black asked.
The professor adjusted his glasses, saying.
"I wouldn't doubt it. And I believe that soon, we will find out. We've arrived."
The men stopped, observing a hole in the wall where the Aureos rested. Although not visible to the naked eye, the three could feel the energy barrier surrounding the place.
Phineas opened his backpack, taking out a horned arpeu dagger. Blood was a powerful thing. He remembered Aribeth when he thought about it, about the Ancient Magic she wielded, so different from what he had learned since childhood. That's what was about to happen there, with him.
With a quick stroke, he made a cut on his own hand. The blood immediately dripped, plentiful. Unconcerned with the pain or the liquid running down his arm, beginning to soak his dark suit, Phineas approached the energy barrier, extending his wounded hand toward it. His deep blue eyes momentarily became translucent. Watching his blood flow like a red river, forming the design of ancient runes, Black felt his legs weaken, and Goddriac's hands hold him by the shoulders.
"Are you okay, mate?" the blond asked.
Black just nodded, realizing he wasn't as well as he wished to appear. However, the barrier had been broken, and Lefoux had already taken the book and stored it in the backpack that was previously with Phineas.
The journalist made the rest of the way leaning on Goddriac.
"Can you Apparate alone?" the blond asked, concerned.
"I think it's better not to," Phineas replied, sincerely.
The professor watched the interaction of the Englishmen in silence. Despite the tension, Lefoux felt almost satisfied. A lifetime's work had borne fruit and could make a difference in the battle against Grindelwald. In a few minutes, they would be back at his apartment, and soon, the family of his late and dear friend would be safe, away from Paris.