Chapter Twenty-Two

Searching for Trouble

Emil rolled out of his bed like a slug after staying up too late the night before researching. He trudged down the creaky wooden stairs and down to the newsstand to grab his newspaper and a copy of the Wizard Weekly when he saw one he hadn't seen before.

"What is this? Some local paper?" he asked, pointing out the thin newspaper at the top of a small stack at the end of the table. "The one that's called The Veritable Wizard."

"Oh, that's the Hogwarts School paper," the newspaper wizard explained. "Professor Black... she heads the newspaper... always splits up extras and sends some to a few scattered newsstands so that more people can have access to it. Some of the articles are actually on point... others are good for a laugh."

"Then I will get one of those as well," Emil decided, paying him a few extra coins. "Especially since I hear that Hogwarts is as influential in politics as ever, and I've heard that most around here believe that Professor Snape is the most powerful wizard of the age."

"If you mean raw power, yes, but hardly politically," the wizard protested. "Professor Snape tends to stay out of politics unless he feels that he hasn't got a choice... but he's a true Reformist, there can be no doubt about that."

"I see. Thank you," Emil said, taking his papers over to the Leaky Cauldron.

It was still quite empty with only the boarders ordering breakfast, but Emil found that the bartenders there didn't mind a lot of questions and weren't in a hurry to spread who was asking about what. He was aware that they seemed equally curious about their new neighbor; he often sat in the Cauldron with a newspaper or book and managed to make a pint last all evening. Of course, that was partly why it kept them chatting with him, but Emil was certain that he was getting more information from them than they were getting about him.

As far as politics were concerned, Emil was still getting to know the current players, only sorting out the major pieces thus far.

Draco Malfoy was the long serving Minister of Magic, well liked by two of the three political parties to reach consensus on the last election. He was a reformist who had become more moderate in recent years as his policies took hold of the society, content on maintaining what he had built upon unless someone decided to contest them. The Minister of Law Enforcement appeared to have a great deal of political power as well, beyond what Emil might have thought that position would bring. Thomas Craw was a handsome man, and despite the fading of his auburn hair,looked to be much younger in appearance than what made any logical sense. The same could be said for his beautiful yet stately wife, who from the social column seemed o be a perfect balance of control and warmth whenever she appeared at charities and Ministry functions.

And then there was Minister Wilder, the current Minister of Mysteries, he mused, scanning the Daily Prophet. She was in the news today; rather, her husband was in the news after being officially sworn in as her deputy minister. An enigmatic figure in his own right, not much seemed to be known about him other than the fact that he was a talented Metamorphmagus who one had trouble being discreet in front of Muggles. There could be little doubt that they had plenty of power as well, he decided, turning over the front page to peruse different photos. He took some time to try and memorize faces so that he could place them with names.

Then he stopped on the page that didn't have any photos at all; the editorial section, which almost always features views from different sides of the political spectrum other than the Reformist majority. The most intriguing letters always came from a wizard who always signed his name as "A Concerned Citizen."

At first, he had wondered if it were multiple people using the same anonymous tag, since it would be a common one to use in any periodical. But it wasn't long before he began picking up speech patterns and decided that it was always the same person, sometimes making very controversial statements about the government, especially about Minister Wilder, and an even larger number of statements about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was the very fact that this wizard constantly made connections between the government and the running of the school that made Emil deduce that the school must certainly have political influence, even above what Beauxbatons influence was with the European Wizard's Council. And there was a letter in that day's paper as well from the wizard, Emil realized, and for once it seemed mildly complimentary.

I would like to leave a comment about your rival newspaper of Hogsmeade, the Veritable Wizard, since they do not have an editorial page that is open to outsiders, since that would be quite inappropriate. I read this evening that their star reporter, the young and gumptious Mr. Miller, will be taking the lead in a team researching details about the career of Bedivere O'Lauren, founder apprentice, and his mysterious Silver Box. I wish him all the best of luck, as well as any other student who rise above the current school administration to excel despite their restrictive and left-leaning curriculum. I look forward to reading his work once it is published in Wizard Weekly. ~ A Concerned Citizen.

Curiously, Emil reached for the school paper, noting it had been published the day before and flipping through it looking for the corresponding article.

Notice: Jeremy Miller takes over the O'Lauren Research Project

Due to disruptive changes to Quintin Snape's schedule, Jeremy Miller is now leading the O'Lauren Research Project to find out details about Bedivere O'Lauren, first Chancellor of Hogwarts, as well as O'Lauren's Silver Box, a missing school artifact. All tips and inquiries should now go through Jeremy Miller. Expect further updates on the project in this space.

Emil furrowed his brows. Why was this small declaration even worth a comment? Why did they even bother printing any response to it in the Daily Prophet?

"Good morning."

Emil looked up from his papers to see a rather strange wizard with dark eyes, hair, and slightly pointed ears who was wearing an unusual amount of rings, necklaces, and had several piercings on his slightly pointed ears. He was also wearing business robes as if he wore them every day.

"Good morning. Who are you?" Emil asked bluntly.

"My name is Deacon Aldus. You may call me Mr. Aldus unless I'm on Ministry business, which I am not," Aldus replied. "Might I sit down, Mr. Trench?"

"Suit yourself," Emil replied warily and the stranger sat down. "What do you want from me?"

"Well, I happen to be a bit of an enthusiast when it comes to Magical Items," Aldus said, shifting his hands.

"Obviously," Emil replied.

"I have read your earlier work, Mr. Trench, and I was wondering if you were planning on publishing again. You see, I happen to be one of the assistant editors at Wizardday Publishing, albeit part time these days," Aldus explained.

"And how do I know this for a fact? I happen to still be in the process of getting reacquainted with this country, considering I've been gone since I was a child and half of that time has been without any memory of who I was," Emil said evenly.

"You have every right to be suspicious after having to serve time for deeds done after your memory was taken. Still, they did give you a light sentence due to those mitigating circumstances," Aldus said.

"You seem to know a great deal about me, despite the fact that I know nothing about you," Emil pointed out. "I don't appreciate the disadvantage."

"I appreciate your candor," Aldus said. "But perhaps it'd be best if we spoke about it at another time in a more private setting, especially considering there are only six minutes left before the LE Minister and his secretary show up for an early lunch. Are you allowed to travel? Wizardday's office is in Wales."

"As long as it's not an overnight trip, yes," Emil replied.

"Ah, good. Here is the address of the Wizardday home office," Aldus said, taking out a card and handing it to him. "Send me an owl when you want to arrange a time to meet. I am typically there from Fridays to Mondays unless there is a social event I need to attend. Fortunately, Halloween is on a Tuesday this year."

"Very well, I will consider it," Emil said.

"It is within your best interests to do so. I will make it worth your while," Aldus assured him, glancing at the time. "Good day."

"Good day," Emil repeated, watching as the strange figure slipped towards Diagon Alley. It was then that Emil squinted, realizing his feet didn't touch the floor. Frowning at that, he signaled for service.

"More hot water?" the serving witch inquired.

"Tell me about that man who spoke to me. Is he well known?"

"He's well known, but I wouldn't call him a man... wizard is best you'll get," the girl said.

"Some sort of dwarf hybrid?" Emil guessed.

"He's the Ambassador to the Trade Elves," she explained. "He's the bloke who caused the House Elves not to be House Elves no more, and now we have to pay them. Doesn't that beat all?"

"He didn't tell me anything about that. He said he was with Wizardday," Emil scowled.

"Yeah, he does that too! He's both a writer and Tubbin's assistant, and I expect he'll get the big chair once Tubbins retires," she conjectured. "He's also got some questionable ties according to some, being that he was once associated with Dark Wizards. I'd be careful of him, if I were you," she advised, replacing his teapot before becoming singularly focused when the door opened.

It was Thomas Craw; there could be no mistaking him from his photo. Next to him was a young woman in her twenties who was obviously his secretary, wearing a dress that was appropriate for her station and yet decidedly much better quality than off the rack, and her her hair was tied up with an overstated bow. The serving girl immediately went over to them, attentively getting their order and hurrying off even before they reached the table. Surprisingly, they went to sit at the one with the Dark Curse burned into it, as if it were perfectly acceptable for an upholder of Law and Justice to do so.

Sensing the scrutiny, the secretary looked over and stared at Emil, attempting to place where she'd seen him at.

"Sit down, Cheeky," Thomas warned her quietly.

"That wizard was staring at us," Delia murmured.

"He was probably staring at that ridiculous bow you're wearing," Thomas replied unconcernedly, buffing the table before his drink arrived.

"Mike bought it for me. He likes my ribbons," Delia informed him primly.

"You like your ribbons. He was just doting on you," Thomas said accusingly.

"It's no worse than you do, considering how much you dote on Fleur," Delia replied defensively.

"I do not."

"Deny it all you like! I've seen her wardrobe," Delia told him.

"What are you talking about? I don't dote on her half as much as Severus dotes on Jen-girl," Thomas grunted.

"Yes, that's true," Delia decided, then became interested in the serving witch when she came back with their lunch.

Emil glanced sideways at the two of them, apparently bantering with each other although he couldn't hear a single word. Were they arguing about a case, Emil mused. His secretary seemed to be holding her own in the conversation, unintimidated. It made him doubt what he had heard from the patrons about the man's history; right now he looked far from a cold-blooded killer. It was easier to believe that strange hybrid had connections to Dark Wizards. Still, it wouldn't hurt to hear what Aldus had to say, Emil mused distractedly, glancing over the card one more time. He did want the public to know about his work, so maybe Aldus wanted him to write a book, or at least in article. With any luck, Mr. Aldus paid in advance.

Making up his mind, Emil Trench finished his meal and signed it off on Lockhart's tab before going to find a postal owl.

"Why did we have to get up so early again?" Broc complained. Douglas nodded in agreement, glad he wasn't the one who had to voice that complaint.

"Because we need a chance to look around while the corridors are clear of anyone who would ask us what we're doing, and it's a lot safer than going at night," Bonnibel told her brother. "Nobody in this school complains when students get up early. They only get in trouble when they don't go to bed on time."

"You're right. I never thought of that," Broc said thoughtfully.

"Still, it might seem awful suspicious if anyone does catch us since nobody else is up," Douglas said.

"All of the volunteers that help out with the farm and the Magical Creatures are up already, so we aren't the only students awake. Fortunately, they are all outside and therefore out of our way," Moira said.

Less talking more thinking. You are too noisy to be going up the back stairs, Zelda thought firmly. Broc, Douglas, practice your focus thinking, I don't care how bad you are at it.

Fine, the two boys thought as they climbed the back stairs to the third floor. But instead of going down the long corridor leading to the extra classrooms, they cautiously opened a pair of wooden doors that effectively hid a second long corridor. It was currently unlit with only a slight glow from the window at the far end to give them any indication to where it ended at.

Moira and Bonnibel cast a spell to make the ends of their wands glow, and soon the others did the same, so they could look around. Zelda shut the door, inspecting it a moment before finding a simple wooden stick with carved hooks that fit around the door knobs.

"Better than nothing, I suppose," Broc said softly.

"A professor could open it in a second," Douglas replied.

"I told you two to be quiet," Zelda hissed.

"It's alright," Bonnibel said unconcernedly, pointing her wand at the door. Bonnibel joined her, and the two of them managed to get a nearly solid Sonorous Shield across the entrance. "There, now those of us who are more comfortable talking rather than projecting may do so."

"Thanks, sis," Broc said. Zelda rolled her eyes at that.

"Maybe since the door's secure we can turn up the lamps. The fixtures here look knew," Douglas pointed out. Moira and Bonnibel agreed with him before Zelda could comment, but Moira could sense her sister's irritation.

"It'll be alright. The sun will be up in another hour or so, and the chances of anyone noticing anything before then is highly unlikely," Bonnibel offered.

"I'll know who to blame if you're wrong," Zelda said dangerously, but Bonnibel simply shrugged.

"This corridor is very out of the way, and some of these side doors are locked," Moira said, trying the handles.

"Maybe all of them are locked?" Broc asked as they all began trying the handles.

"This one at the end isn't," Moira said, opening it. "It's just an empty room with large wooden shelves covering the far wall... there is a door on the far side."

"Considering it smells like fresh paint, my guess is that it's probably been cleared out," Bonnibel said. Instead of paying attention to where Bonnibel was going, Moira tried the other door at the end of the corridor and opened it, using her wand to shine a light inside. "Oh, it's a communal bathroom... and it's safe to say this hasn't been touched. The water closets look ancient, and the sinks look more like laundry basins. There is a pile of new piping on the floor in a bundle."

"I seriously doubt we're going to find a hidden relic in an old bathroom anyway," Zelda said.

"There are some old desks and chairs back here and a few hanging racks, but this room has been painted too," Bonnibel reported.

"Time to take a look at those locked rooms, then," Moira suggested. Zelda nodded in agreement as Bonnibel ran some checks on the first locked door.

"It's just a simple lock that even a first year could open. It isn't even cursed," Bonnibel reported.

"Then Douglas can open it," Zelda decided.

"Me? Why me?" Douglas asked.

"Searching unlocked rooms is one thing, opening a locked room is another. And since Broc took the last detention, it's your turn this time," Zelda reminded him. "Besides, Brittle will go easier on you than she would the rest of us, so you're the ideal candidate for the job anyway."

"What makes you think she'll go easy on me?" Douglas asked.

"She likes you," Zelda informed him. Douglas blinked in open surprise. "Better than the rest of us, at any rate. One of her best friends is named Douglas too, and you remind her of how he was as a student. So if you're the one that gets caught, I doubt she'll do more than set aside some conference time."

"I don't know whether I believe you or not, since I've never seen her treat me any differently than anyone else. I'll do it based on the fact that it was my turn to take the blame and that's that," Douglas said, raising his wand at the first locked door.

"Alohamora!" Douglas intoned, and it immediately swung open.

They peered in and saw that it was an office of some kind. It had moldy, damaged carpets on the floor that were intricate and likely quite pretty when they were woven, along with an old wooden desk and chair. There were no windows in this inner room and no light fixtures to speak of other than stubby candle in a lantern and an empty candelabra. Behind to the desk was a tall, empty bookshelf.

"It looks like Carnegie's been in here to collect the books considering the shelves have been dusted, but it doesn't look like it's been touched otherwise," Moira observed.

"Then we'll start in here," Zelda said, walking in and lighting the lantern. Fortunately, it did seem to be enchanted and put out a great deal more light than a lantern that size normally did. "Someone may have taken the books, but they didn't take anything out of the desk, which means they were probably leaving the rest for another day. And since that's the case, maybe they missed something."

"Yes, I agree with you," Bonnibel said, nodding to Zelda's unspoken thoughts as well before turning to Broc. "It's possible this could have been O'Lauren's office. And since the Silver Box was his prize possession, he may have hidden it in here to keep it from being stolen."

"Scan the room for hidden magic signatures and let us know if you find anything. Douglas, go open the other doors," Zelda ordered.

"Fine," Douglas said. He went to the next door, unlocking it with a spell and peering in. After seeing that it was nothing more than a prayer room with nothing but painted walls and an altar, he went down the corridor to the next set of doors, casting them open and glancing in. Moira and Zelda stepped out, leaving the two Villins to keep searching the office.

"There are two corridors here with a lot of other doors... at least a dozen on each side," Douglas reported.

"That many? I wouldn't have expected this section to be this big," Moira said, following Douglas into the corridor to help check for magic. "Oh... there's a new torch in here, but it doesn't look as if it's been used yet."

"So Carnegie has been in here but hasn't started on this section," Zelda conjectured.

"Unlikely, considering how dusty it is," Moira said, lighting the torch.

"Speaking of dust, look at at the floor... there are a number of footprints visible that aren't ours," Douglas warned, inspecting them. "It looks like they're going in and out each room."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and those doors aren't not locked, then," Moira said, turning the first doorknob. As she suspected, it opened easily.

From the doorway, they could see a very small, dusty room that was dimly lit thanks to a small dust-caked window with a view of the Dark Forest and the twilight before dawn. There were no obvious lanterns or candelabras in the room, and the only shelf seemed to be a tiny recess in one of the walls not even large enough to set a book on. But what attracted their attention the most was a large "X" that was painted on the wall in black paint.

"What do you suppose that X is for? Do you think something is beyond it?" Douglas asked, feeling a bit unsettled.

"Maybe that's where to Silver Box is," Moira suggested brightly. Her little sister sighed at her.

"Don't you think that if it was marked it'd have been found by now?" Zelda asked her.

"Oh. Good point," Moira said, smiling sheepishly as Zelda stepped out, motioning for someone to open the next door.

Douglas opened the one across the corridor. It was almost identical to the one they had opened a moment before and had a painted "X" as well, but it had been painted on the opposite wall.

"Okay, well, it means something, but I'm not sure what," Douglas decided.

"Maybe it's a sign that someone has already been in here looking for the Silver Box and they marked which rooms were checked since they're similar," Moira suggested.

"That theory makes sense," Zelda agreed, opening the next door herself. This one had an "X" on the opposite wall, but it also a symbol she couldn't quite make out on the other wall. Before she could take more than a step, Moira pulled her back.

"Careful! Look at the floor," Moira warned and pointed. Just in front of them was circle of glowing paint, marking an an obvious depression in the floor.

"There's a different symbol over on the wall," Zelda also pointed out.

"Maybe it's in the next room as well," Douglas said, trying the door across the way. "No... there's just another X in here."

"Let's try the one on the other side of this wall," Moira suggested. She walked to the room next door, while Douglas did the same on the other side. This time they were more cautious to inspect the floor before going in. "Is this it, Zelda?" Moira asked, and Zelda stepped in as well.

"That is the same symbol," Zelda agreed.

"I don't think it's a rune or anything, Zelda. I think it's just an "S" with a couple of arrows painting up and down," Moira said, then called out the door. "are there any symbols over on your side, Douglas?"

"There's no X on this one, just an S with three arrows going sideways and down," Douglas reported. The two girls came in to look.

"So it's similar, but slightly different. Who knows what they might mean?" Moira said.

"So far all of the rooms have been empty except for the symbols. Do you suppose these were bedrooms at one point?" Douglas asked.

"As cramped as they are?" Moira said.

"Well, in that paper those Dusthorns wrote about the founders, they called this area the Monk's Quarter. Based on that, I was thinking that these might be where the monks slept. You could fit a small cot in here... and those recesses might be for a small statue of a saint or some other religious symbol," Douglas suggested.

"I can't imagine just how dreadful it'd be to have a bedroom this small," Moira said.

"Well, if there were monks living up here, I doubt they'd have spent any time in their cells other than sleeping in them. They probably spent all their time in that front workroom, the chapel, or their private prayer room," Douglas reasoned.

"Private prayer room?" Moira asked.

"Yes, it's across from the office we found with painted Bible scenes and an altar," Douglas replied.

"Well, why didn't we stop there first?" Zelda asked with exasperation.

"There was nothing in there but an altar. I'd say it's a lot more likely something would be hidden in one of these rooms," Douglas said.

"It's a Catholic altar. There might be a cache below it with hidden artifacts. Maybe the Silver Box is hidden there!" Moira suggested brightly.

"You want to desecrate an altar?" Douglas asked, not happy with an idea.

"It's an abandoned room that hasn't been used for years. Moira is right, it would be a logical place for someone to hide something who had access to this area. But first let's grab the others so they can help us search the rest of these cells," Zelda said.

"Maybe Broc and I can write down all of the symbols on the walls in case there's something important about them," Douglas suggested.

"As you like, as long as you're quick about it! The sun is coming up," Zelda reminded them.

"It's Sunday. Who's going to be up this early on a Sunday?" Douglas asked, but did as he was told.

As they expected, the corridor on the opposite side of the corridor were also small living cells, filled with the strange mix of "X"s, "S"s, and arrows, along with the occasional marks of glowing paint that warned them of holes in the floor or even places on the ceiling where the plaster was coming down. But the more they went through the cells, the more impatient Zelda got.

Enough, this is getting us nowhere. Let's check that altar, Zelda projected to the others.

"I don't know, but I think I agree with Douglas that this isn't such a good idea," Broc said as they met up in the main corridor. "There could be remains under there... it could belong to a castle ghost," he warned.

"Who cares? I'm not afraid of any of the castle ghosts," Zelda said.

"Not even the scary cat?" Moira asked.

"It wouldn't dare to get in my way, and woe to any ghost who tries," Zelda replied darkly, gesturing at Douglas to open the door into the altar room.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Douglas said, borrowing the torch from the hall to put in the holder he had found on the back wall of the prayer room. "I'm going to wait outside."

"Fine, you've done your part. Bonnibel, Moira, see what you can do to slide this thing away," Zelda ordered, and the two girls joined hands and used the Synchronous Spell for extra power to cause the heavy structure to slide back.

"Is there a cache?" Moira wanted to know, not wanting to let go of the hold of the spell with the altar off its base.

"Yes, but it's nothing but something wrapped in cloth or bandages... bones, more than likely," Broc reported.

"I told you this is a bad idea. Put that back before you wake something," Douglas said, refusing to come out of the doorway.

"Are you raising your voice to me?" Zelda challenged him icily.

"Hey, what's that?" Broc said at the two looked down.

A ghostly mist was forming around the cache. As a spectral figure suddenly loomed over them, Broc and Zelda let out a scream of surprise and terror and the two girls lost concentration on the spell they had cast. Luckily, they hadn't moved it enough to cause the altar to fall off its base.

Douglas took advantage of the commotion and scampered down the corridor as Professor Ravenclaw materialized over the remaining students.

"What in the name of the stars do you think you're doing? Explain yourselves," Ravenclaw ordered sternly.

"Are these your remains? We're sorry!" Bonnibel said quickly.

"If there's one thing I've never been accused of, it's being a saint... until now," Ravenclaw added. "This is a construction zone and no place for students, and I am quite certain that all of you know better than to damage school property by moving this altar. Put it back immediately before I lose my temper and force you to do it anyway."

Moira and Bonnibel grimaced at each other, having no inclination of becoming one of Ravenclaw's possession targets after seeing it happen to Zelda on more than one occasion. Joining hands again, they slid it back into place.

"Let's go up to my office to discuss this incident further, because I want to know what you were doing in here and why," Ravenclaw said sternly.

"Can't we take the Doorlift?" Broc whined.

"You most certainly can not. Up the stairs! Perhaps the exercise will warm you up to the detention that awaits you. I hope none of you had any plans to attend the Spectral Ball, because you most certainly not be going to that either! Now, march, and mind the floors in case there are unmarked weak areas. If you deviate so much as a foot in the wrong direction, we'll be going to the Headmaster's Study instead," Ravenclaw warned.

Broc felt himself being spun around, and the others fell in line behind him. Since Zelda was in the back, Ravenclaw decided to take the rear in case she tried to pull anything. Zelda cooly lifted her chin and didn't say a single word all the way up to the North Tower, but her siblings knew from the static in the air that she was already plotting her revenge.