Chapter 13 - Warehouse

The metal grate flashed yellow and folded inwards, allowing them passage into a dark and dusty hallway.

Iris shot a wary look at Greengrass, who for once didn't appear entirely unconcerned. Apparently, breaking into the actual Ministry of Magic had been the easy part. Great.

They were standing in a long stone hallway, the only light hailing from the yellow glow inside the elevator cabin. The walls were blank, gray, and not a single thing of note in sight except for a large iron door at the far end of the path.

With a shared nod, they began to forge down the path, until they stood in front of the massive door. It seemed strangely out of place. The rest of the building seemed more old and dilapidated, imposing more in its scale and grandiosity, rather than through pristine quality. This door was the exact opposite. It didn't even really fit with the walls around it. Whereas most things in the wizarding world were made of either wood, stone, clay, or brass, this was made out of solid steel.

Greengrass stepped up to it, her eyes glowing for some time, until she sighed. No voice came asking for authorization, nor did anything really happen at all. Apparently, the door didn't have any kind of built-in magical mind that she could exploit. It was just a good old-fashioned door. New-fashioned, really.

"So... what's the plan?" Iris raised an eyebrow.

Greengrass didn't reply immediately. She spent some more time inspecting the door, shifting nervously, until she admitted, "I'm not sure. I... I've never been this far, and I haven't found much information on it."

"Then how about you explain what it actually is?" Iris said. "I can't do much except help you stare at the metal door if you don't tell me what we're supposed to do here."

"You could do the one spell you're useful for," Greengrass suggested.

"That's still one spell more useful than someone else I know right now," Iris said and shot her a smirk. "Probably should start charging by the hour, if you have to keep me around just for that."

"That door isn't going to open itself, you know?"

Iris frowned and turned to look at the door. It wasn't really worthy of that title, if she was honest. There were no hinges, no handle, no lock, no nothing. Just a solid steel frame bolted into the wall.

"I'm not sure if there is actually anything to unlock here..." Iris said. "But I suppose it's all in the eye of the beholder, or something."

She raised her wand and began to draw yellow light. Her wand began to grow warm and started vibrating as she let it build, but something felt off. The light felt—for a lack of a better term—fleeting.

Iris kept pulling, painstakingly drawing it bigger and bigger, until it just wouldn't go any brighter no matter what she tried. Finally, she jabbed, twisted and shouted, "Alohomora!"

A burst of sparks, and the yellow light coalesced into a bright bolt, bridged the gap and slammed into the steel door. It began to rumble and shake, the light spreading out from the point of impact like tendrils, making the surface glow as small cracks of yellow seemed to spread across the solid steel, until she noticed something. The light seemed to be drawn away, leeched off from her spell, down inside the door, disappearing somewhere she could not see. The faint shaking of the ground faded. The spell was still spreading as it slowly kept encompassing the door, but it grew slower and slower, until it flickered, and ground to a halt. Instead of shattering, it was all sucked away, every last wisp of light drawn beyond the door, never to be seen again.

Iris and Greengrass exchanged a nervous look. "What the fuck?" Iris said.

Greengrass said nothing, just standing there with a wary expression on her face, until she met her eyes once again. "I hadn't thought... all the way out here..."

"What. Is. that?" Iris repeated.

"The Dementor. Its influence must be extending all the way to the door. I suppose that is the actual reason for the door; to keep its influence confined within."

Iris took some time to process that. She didn't know much, but from what she had read... Dementors would drain away all emotions, all happy thoughts, trapping you in your worst memories—which was something Iris was secretly dreading—but that wasn't all there was to it. They also affected the weather, and the light. It would grow darker, colder, basically any sort of energy was drained away. Including magic, apparently. Although the books had never mentioned that little tidbit. Why the hell would they leave out something that important? Were they trying to get people killed? Did they just not want people to know about it for some reason?

Iris shook herself and tried to focus on her Mindlight. It might be a superstition thing; it might be a political thing. There was this whole idea of Muggleborns stealing magic, and now, it turned out there were creatures who were doing exactly that.

"Any more ideas?" Greengrass said with a hint of uncertainty.

As much as Iris wanted to enjoythat the girl finally seemed a little out of her depth, she wasn't really feeling it. This was a Dementor. She hadn't really quite comprehended what they were going up against, but now, she was... kind of worried. She was scared of losing her mind to the memory of Harry in the chamber. She was slightly more afraid of having her magic drained away by a creature of darkness. And that wasn't even getting into the possibility of having her literal soul sucked out. But somehow, none of this had seemed as important until now, when she was standing one door away from reality.

But she still wanted to proceed, for two reasons. One, as much as she hated it, she needed Greengrass, and even if she didn't, she couldn't back out of their deal now. And the other was the history lessons from Lupin. During the last war, the Dementors had apparently switched sides and decided to follow Voldemort. And she had no illusions about him just staying quiet this time. There would be another war. And she would have to face them eventually.

So, reluctantly, she turned her mind to the task at hand. One simple idea she had was that she could just pull them both into the shadow realm and try to find a gap to slip through. Possible, but then again, this was less of a door and more of a wall right now. It was completely bolted shut, no visible seams anywhere. And most of the time, she couldn't just slip straight through walls. There had to be some sort of gap.

Alohomora hadn't worked. So that only left her with... Well, maybe trying destructive force to disassemble the door? But that also meant possibly freeing whatever was on the other side. And even more worryingly, alerting the rest of the bloody Ministry to their presence.

But it wasn't just a wall. It was a sort of door. That meant, there had to be a way for people to enter, right? It was supposed to be a warehouse, even if she had no idea what that actually meant.

Iris' eyes scanned the door, then the rest of the room. And she froze. That hadn't been there before.

Lodged in the stone wall along the path they had been walking coming here, a small hidden panel had opened up—possibly from the tremors of her failed spell.

Iris exchanged another look with Greengrass, and they carefully approached. Embedded in the wall, hidden underneath a secret panel, lay a small... electronic keypad.

"Oh," Greengrass whispered in defeat.

Iris stared. Muggle technology? Down here? But how would...

"I suppose it only makes sense..." Greengrass began, "We're still close enough to the Dementor to allow Muggle technology to work despite all the magic of the Ministry surrounding us."

Yeah. And that made it the perfect defense. Placing a Muggle defense in a place where it couldn't be overcome with magic, and using technology which couldn't be controlled by wizardry.

"I'll give them credit. My apologies. I suppose I need to do some more research, then. We'll have to return if I do manage to acquire the code from someone who is in the know."

Yeah. Good luck with that. Whoever worked down here definitely would have to have at least some solid Occlumency, she guessed.

Iris knew she probably shouldn't. She had the perfect excuse to just turn and leave, without Greengrass thinking she was violating their deal, to just keep going with her own goal of trying to bring back Harry.

But...

Yes, she was curious. The same stupid curiosity that had killed the cat over and over, had driven her into the third-floor corridor way back then. But that wasn't all. Even if she could by now mostly ignore that impulse, there were other things that kept dragging it back to the surface. She really needed to face Dementors sooner or later. And also, she was curious what Greengrass was up to, and was hoping to learn something that would balance the scales. But most importantly, while she very much didn't want her as an enemy, the girl could also prove to be an ally in the future. And Greengrass had shown her some good faith with her own request. So now it was Iris' turn to do the same.

"Not so fast."

Greengrass turned back around from the elevator and gave her a confused look.

"You're not giving up yet, are you?" Iris said with a grin.

That yielded a deadpan expression from Greengrass. "We cannot use the direct approach due to the Dementor, and electronic protections cannot be tricked with magic either. Unless you have another bright idea that—"

"Are you sure about that?" she said cheekily.

Iris knew this really wasn't the time, but she'd be damned if she wasted the one chance where she actually had one up on the girl to mercilessly rub that fact in her face.

Reaching back into her robes, she withdrew her wand again with a flourish, and then slowly aimed it at the keypad. The Dementor had sucked away most of the magic before it could encompass the entire door, but she didn't have to charm a whole door, just one tiny keypad.

"What are you doing? You know it's impossible to use spells to interact with Muggle technology. All you'll achieve is to destroy it, and then they'll realize someone's been here," Greengrass said sharply. "Need I remind you that the Obscuro charm is not a perfect protection? Being subtle enough to slip their detection means it's also not strong enough to stand up to—"

"Oh, yeah, impossible. I guess you did say something like that..." Iris began to call some amount of Control aspect into her wand, then turned to shoot Greengrass a cheeky grin. "I still gotta look up the meaning of that word, sorry."

She jabbed, twisted forty-five degrees, and declared "Alohomora."

The keypad lit up in a green light and released a sharp beep.

A second of silence, as they both turned towards the door with trepidation, until with a heavy clunk, all the deadbolts retracted as one. In an instant, Iris felt a cold shiver run over her skin. The temperature in the room noticeably plummeted and even the light in the elevator seemed to dim. A flashing orange light lit up at the ceiling above the door, and after a second, it slowly began to swing open inwards.

Beyond it, a long metallic hallway was revealed, lit up in further flashing lights, leading quite the distance towards another metallic door at the end. Iris took a hesitant step forward, and Greengrass followed suit next to her. With every step, the air grew colder and colder, until she could see her own breath escaping her in a faint mist. At the end of the path, an even larger door loomed. And to the side was another keypad. Greengrass shot her a determined look, and she nodded back. Iris did the familiar song and dance, and with a sharp beep, the keypad lit up, and the door behind them slammed shut. Because of course it did.

There was a hissing sound, and slowly, the large door in front of them unbolted itself, piston by piston. With each heavy clunk, Iris felt the temperature plummet further, until she was sure it was well below freezing. The lights grew dimmer, much like she remembered in Lockhart's memory with the Lethifold. The hissing sounded a bit like—

"Sorry," a hoarse whisper over a backdrop of sizzling venom. "I wasn't able to... keep my... promise..."

Iris stumbled and clamped down on her thoughts hard. She desperately reached for her Mindlight, trying to fight back the memories, and focused on the here and now.

Barely holding on, she wrenched the feelings of terror, of guilt and self-hatred back where they belonged—far under the surface, buried underneath a flimsy facade of purpose. She couldn't allow herself to lose control like that, especially here.

Step by step she forged onwards, towards the door, as it slowly began to swing open. She barely caught a glance of the room beyond.

A large dark hall filled with shelves, crates, and all sorts of things. It was about as tall as the great hall, far taller than should be possible from the mere distance they had traveled in the elevator. The floor was littered in shelves, yet the majority above it was empty space. The ceiling was glowing red. From all over the hall, thin red beams seemed to be emitted upwards from tiny pillars in the ground, with what looked like red crystals lodged at the top. The beams pierced all the way to the top, where they seemed to mingle and stretch into a red glowing surface.

But among all this, one thing stuck out to Iris in particular. There was no sign of the Dementor.

Slowly, step by step, they made their way through the doorway and into the large warehouse. Because apparently, that's what it was. Discounting the strange red ceiling, and the gloomy atmosphere courtesy of the Dementor, it did indeed seem like a place to store... stuff.

To their left, right next to the door, there was a small alcove with a wooden desk and a chair. The desk didn't hold much. A colorful newspaper splayed atop it, some pens and a few sheets of standard muggle A4 paper, and a mug with the label World's Best Dad.

Getting curious, Iris leaned over the paper and began to read the scrawled note.

Arthur,

you can forget your idea to try and prohibit access to these Defibrillators to the general public. The muggles seem to use them all over the place, you won't find many towns that don't have at least one publicly accessible, ready for the taking. We also can't just remove them. Apparently, they use them like some sort of Renervate charm, except after the heart has already stopped. And yes, I know how that sounds, but apparently it's standard practice, even our healers have some spells like that, although they are used very rarely, since you can only use them within seconds, before someone is truly dead.

I suggest to place them on the watchlist for any further raids, but there's not much else we can do here.

Gerhard

Huh. Wait, was that... because of her stunt last year? Now that she thought about it, somehow, Defibrillators had ended up on the Hogwarts list of banned items after that... The Aurors had seemed quite worried about what had happened, but she had no idea that it would have been that big of a deal.

Her gaze drifted from the note over towards the newspaper which was labeled Quibbler in bold colorful letters. Below that, there was a headline in a far more serious font, strangely reminiscent of the Daily Prophet.

Dumbledore was behind it all!

Harry Potter only the Beginning!

by Xenophilius Lovegood

A Nation is in uproar, and of course, I could not simply idly stand by. No, I had to dig deeper. And, fellow Quibblers, you would not believe how deep the snorkak-hole truly goes.

As a reputable source of news, we of course take the allegations from Ms. Skitter extremely seriously. A headmaster who is both senile AND an evil mastermind? That is some seriously impressive multitasking. But I suppose that is to be expected from someone who holds the office of Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock in addition to being Headmaster of Hogwarts.

But much more importantly, the earthshattering deductions of that article have sent us down on a solemn quest, a quest for the truth. What else could he have been hiding for all of these years? And what we found was nothing short of shocking.

Ministry archival records from the Department of Education have confirmed that You-Know-Who's name is nowhere to be found among the student registry! This, dear Quibblers, is incontrovertible proof that Dumbledore knew You-Know-Who even when he was attending Hogwarts, yet not only did he choose to do nothing about it, but he also went out of his way to conceal that fact afterwards! There can simply be no other explanation! This lack of evidence is clear evidence of the fact that Dumbledore is behind it all. Perhaps he even tutored You-Know-Who himself for all we know, only so he could make an even more formidable opponent for him at some point.

But it goes much deeper than that. The Chamber of Secrets was in fact not the first time a secret hidden area of the castle had been uncovered, in combination with a plot that almost destroyed the school. The last goblin uprising (which my lawyer reminds me not to call a rebellion, we don't have those anymore) in 1890, when the whole castle was under siege and only defended by one of the bravest heroes of the 19th century, almost cost the lives of several students, and even cost the lives of one member of staff. And this had not come out of nowhere, no, these events have been coming to a head over the course of a whole year, much like with the Chamber of Secrets. Who else but Dumbledore, with his vast knowledge of Hogwarts deepest and darkest secrets could have possibly known what was going on, and put a stop to it?

No, instead, he claims to have been conveniently absent, learning how to read, write and add numbers at the muggle school in his town. But being a mere nine years old at the time does not excuse a centennial genius like Dumbledore from responsibility, that is just what he wants you to think. No doubt he spent his time plotting and orchestrating these events even from the comforts of his crib. But then again, he may have already been too senile to understand the consequences of his actions. Possibly he had just been thinking about it as moving chess pieces around his playpen, never imagining in his aged nine-year-old brain the impact it could have on the real world.

Iris blinked, tearing her gaze from the parchment, and skipping the rest of the article. Greengrass was giving her an odd look. She was a pretty fast reader, but right now really wasn't the time to get sucked into a book like that due to her Mindlight.

Iris glanced across the hall, down the aisles of shelves and crates. "So... where is the Dementor?"

Greengrass hesitated, then said, "It should be somewhere around here. I suppose it would be locked up or tied down, since it is only required for the effect it has, not as an actual guardian like in Azkaban."

Iris slowly began to wander down the aisle with Greengrass following next to her. "For the effect? What exactly is this place, really?"

"From my understanding," Greengrass said, "This is a place where dangerous artifacts are stored. Not confiscated cursed objects enchanted by wizards, those would be sent to curse breakers to be rendered inert. These are objects enchanted using ritualistic magics."

Oh. And rituals were supposed to be permanent. So they couldn't just get rid of them.

"And the Dementor... is kept here to drain away their magic?" Iris asked.

"Yes, to keep them contained, and ensure they don't... act up... on their own," Greengrass replied.

So things like... her physics book? Wait, was her book illegal? Getting curious, Iris started inspecting the shelves, the various objects resting on them. Next to her, on a small wooden pedestal, tied down with what appeared to be several belts, rested a simple wooden broom. She raised an eyebrow, then read the small sign in front of it.

Cleansweep (Original)

Multiplies and will not stop sweeping until the entire room is clean.

NEVER USE OUTDOORS

Were they for real? With another wary glance at that mental image, she made her way past that thing and let her gaze sweep the shelves. Teapots, ropes, cauldrons, jewelry, stone goblets, furniture, full-body mirrors... Pretty much everything and the kitchen sink was here. And all of it was somehow dangerous, apparently. She guessed a lot of stuff must have accumulated in the past, before they made free ritual illegal. And even then, she had been doing rituals before she even knew what it was, maybe a lot of this stuff was just accidentally created by kids who didn't know better? And since there was no way to disenchant the ritual, or in any way alter its effects... She had no idea what would happen if you actually tried to destroy the object afterwards. Couldn't be anything good.

She turned another corner and raised an eyebrow. "Is that..."

"From our common room, yes," Greengrass replied dryly from some distance away.

Iris sheepishly met her gaze, then turned to look back at the all too familiar fireplace, still burning in a very low yellow flame. She focused her intent on it, and the flames flared a bit higher, even if they could still barely be called that. It was! How the hell did they move the entire fireplace here? And why? Somehow—ah, probably because of the Dementor—the fire was much lower than she remembered, but still very much going. Part of her almost wondered if her physics book was tied to a shelf somewhere around here. But that was silly, she had left that back at Privet Drive. Would they have locked up Petunia's pie too? Or... Neville?

Probably not, this place seemed to be about objects that have gained permanent magical properties, not just those that have undergone some sort of permanent change without any lasting magical effects. There probably wouldn't be any point to that. Possibly only the stuff that was actually dangerous. But why on earth would the Slytherin common room fireplace be deemed dangerous?

A stray thought suddenly took her off guard, and her breath caught. What else could be stored here? Other things that she could need... things that could prove useful... like...

The Stone. No way, right? Was that even a ritualistic artifact? Or was it something entirely different? If the Stone was actually real, would it be kept in a place like this? But then again, the story had been from France, so it didn't seem very likely. But still. Maybe—

Iris whirled as a sudden high-pitched whine pierced the silence, followed by a heavy bang of the metal door they had entered through slamming shut. Iris' gaze snapped towards Greengrass, who yanked her arm out of her handbag as if she'd just been burnt. The painful chime seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. In fact—

The small pillars, the pillars with the crystals! The red crystals—which looked eerily familiar, now that she was up close—flared up brightly, and after a second, the ceiling began to move. The wall of red descended, lower and lower, as the small pillars began to recede into the ground, and Iris braced for impact. The crystals finally winked out and disappeared completely, and the red barrier washed over them, and vanished without a trace.

In that instant, Iris felt like she had just been dropped into a frozen lake. Slowly, with dawning horror, her gaze drifted back to the ceiling. Because now she could see the actual ceiling, past the point where the red barrier had been. And it was there that she saw it.

Dark, floating, like silk blowing in the wind.

"I thought there was supposed to be only one?" Iris hissed.

Greengrass swallowed. "So did I."

Not just one, or even two. Almost a dozen of them. Dementors.

Where Lethifolds seemed more like shadows wrapped into a form, Dementors seemed to be the other way around. Almost like a floating dark cloak, except there was also something underneath. Something... humanoid.

One second Iris was straining her eyes to see it more clearly, the next she regretted her subconscious wish, as the swarm of cloaks halted mid-air, then turned as one and began to converge on them.

"Iris... wake up... you're safe now..."

No. Please.

"Sorry..."

Iris desperately reached for her Mindlight, yet she felt it slip right through her fingers, all of it drained away by the looming darkness from above. Acting on instinct, she clutched her wand, raised it up, and began to draw up the Orange of the Elemental aspect. Or at least she tried to. Instead, her wand remained a cold dead stick in her hand.

Lower and lower, the cloaked figures began to descend on them like angels of Death, spiraling slowly down towards the two hapless girls who had lost their way.

But Iris wasn't really paying attention anymore. Or experiencing anything really. Except for that one moment, that one memory, playing over and over in her mind.

It was her fault. She had failed. She had done everything to avoid this one outcome, and she had done everything wrong. And now she was about to meet the same fate. No! She'd never allow that. She would not let herself die as well.

Her magic was useless. Her colors were useless. Her thoughts were useless. All that remained were her memories, her regrets, and her hatred for what she had done; what she had become.

She reached for exactly that, and finally accepted it.

Shadows began rolling off her in waves, an electric shiver of power trailing up her spine, down her arms, even into her toes. The cloaked demons slowly crept closer, now circling right in front of them, almost close enough to touch.

But the fear, the paralyzing dread, the icy cold burning her skin was all gone. All that remained were shadows. And they felt almost comforting.

And apparently, the Dementors thought so too. The cloaked beings had stopped circling. They were now just hovering there, not getting closer, but also not leaving. Iris stood still, staring, and held her breath. One of them slowly crept closer, and closer. Not towards her, but towards Greengrass. The girl's eyes were wide, her mask firmly cracked, and she seemed torn between getting as close and as far from Iris as possible. The Dementor reached out a long bony black hand towards the black-haired girl's face, its breath rattling like a dying man desperate for a gulp of air. Iris gathered her wits and took a step closer, placing a hand on her shoulder and wrapped them both firmly in shadows.

The creature stopped. It was just floating there, barely a meter from their face, doing nothing. Just like all the others. What the hell?

Seconds stretched on and on, with neither of them seeming willing to make a move, the only noise being the low rattling breath of the floating demons of darkness. Were they trying to bait her? Were they angry? Scared? Happy? Was she just invisible to them? What was going on?

"Just go away already..." Iris whispered hoarsely, the enveloping shadows almost constricting her throat

The tall floating thing in front of them slowly tilted its head. Iris turned to shoot another look at Greengrass but her gaze snapped right back as she noticed motion. The Dementor right in front of her had turned, and slowly began drifting away. She watched the floating dark cloak with wide eyes, its shape shrinking smaller and smaller, while all the others still freely floated around them some distance away. She shot another disbelieving look at Greengrass, and this time, it was returned in full force.

No way that would work, right? Iris steeled herself, cleared her throat since she still didn't quite trust her voice, and firmly spoke up. "Go away."

And go away they did. Just like that.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Was that how Voldemort had done it?

That look of mixed disbelief and hope from Greengrass quickly turned that moment of relief into an even more ominous realization. It looked like she wasn't getting out of that Azkaban visit after all.