AN at end of chapter.
Book II
Small Gods
Chapter 5
Something Wild And Unbridled
"III"
April 2, 2008
Even as a professor, Harry still loves to use his dad's map. Hogwarts will always be the first place he felt at home, and in his spare time he'll pull out the map and go exploring. Over the years, he's even added to it himself, etching on new passageways or secrets he finds in his wanderings.
One of his favorite places in the castle is the astronomy tower. He spends a lot of time up there, drawn to the view. A sense of expansiveness and freedom comes from the wide open space and low walls. He likes to perch against one of the archways opening up to the view over the Black Lake, enjoying his morning coffee or reading a book.
It was because of all the time he spends up there that he discovered the hidden room above the tallest tower. The room's entrance sat there hidden from him for years until, just two weeks ago, he found the door quite by accident. It faded into existence between the third and fourth sconce on the left hand wall of the tower one day as he was pacing around the room, working out a problem in his mind. It took him a long time to figure out what exactly had triggered the opening of the door, but it appears if, and only if, the opener walks counterclockwise around the room three times while humming under their breath.
Behind the door lies a long staircase, winding up, higher than would seem possible within the constraints of the building. But at the top of that staircase is a very unusual room.
Today he is going to learn more about the room. He is convinced of it!
The door at the top of the stairs opens wide as he comes to the top, automatically creaking back on its hinges. Inside, the room is quite bare, there is no furniture, no decorations, no adornments. The ground raises up slightly in the middle, sloping down towards the circular walls. Around the wall, about waist height, sits a band of beech, inlaid among the stone and deeply carved with runes. To the touch, it lies seamlessly sunk into the castle wall, Harry's fingertips unable to sense a separation between the wood and stone except for the difference in texture. He walks admiringly around the room. Above the band of wood, large windows open out to the view, placing the room not where one would expect, above the astronomy tower, but in fact somewhere among the mountains that rise over the Black Lake.
The spring air flows in through the window, past the warbly leaded glass, through the gauzy curtains; it's cool and fresh, the melting snow brightening the air.
He's never been a good study on runes, and since finding the room, all of his spare time is taken up pouring over runic manuscripts, trying to translate the band of beech. He sits in the center of the room, his hair rumpled in his frustration, spelled candlelight fighting against the encroaching twilight. He spends hours turning through book after book, reading parchment after parchment.
Tonight, the air is cold with the barely holding breath of winter.
He tosses the book down in frustration. These runes don't make any sense. They're nonsense. He is sure of it.
He runs his hand through his hair once more, positive it's standing on end, he flops back against the stone wall. His eyes are sore from straining in the fading candlelight and he rubs them tiredly and stretches to stand — he'll get back to it tomorrow. He waves his wand, extinguishing the candles and lighting his wand in one movement, grabbing the book from the floor and heading to the door. His eyes catch on a rune by the door, it seems familiar to him. He pauses, stooping to get a closer look. And then it hits him, black lines of tattoos fading onto skin: Ginny.
April 3, 2008
The path feels something like redemption. Or maybe something like reclamation.
Passing by the high gates with the winged boars repossess her with a fervor she's forgotten. And just like that, there's a small girl standing, trembling from wonder, full of ideals and lofty dreams.
The crash of the gates cracks that ardor with a solid sincerity.
And she's just herself again, still lost somewhere, but never questioning where her feet land.
She sighs, and keeps on walking.
"Wow, Professor Potter, aren't you all grown up." She smirks from the open doorway, watching Harry shuffle papers on his desk.
He turns around with a grin that falters and fractures when he sees her. "Ginny?" he asks, hesitantly.
She rolls her eyes, "yeah, duh. I can't really just go walking around looking like me, can I?" She's wearing Talia Katyagida's face, all sharp beauty and angular features. Her pixie cut hair a bright violent pink.
He stares at her.
"Oh relax Potter, it's still me. What did you call me all the way here for? You said you need help with some runes?"
He looks thrown by her appearance still, but he shakes it off and gestures for her to follow him out of the room.
"I like to explore in my spare time, call it a hobby…" he glances at her, a crooked grin on his face.
She snorts, "sure, a hobby."
"Anyway," he continues, as they head up the stairs toward the astronomy tower, "I found this room a few weeks ago, quite by accident, but for the life of me I can't make heads or tails of these— well… I better just show you."
He leads her up the stairs to the room, bounding up two stairs at a time in his boyish excitement. He crashes through the door quite enthusiastically and she marvels at the room behind it. It feels alive. No… it feels free, unbound. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, feeling the fresh air flowing around her. The icy mountain air is full of something natural and deep spirited — her palms burn, the ihwaz runes awakening in the life present here.
The air sparks and spits with magic, the room is reacting to her, the runes glowing and spinning around the room. Her head spins with it, she bends over, her hands on her knees trying to calm her spinning head. She barely feels Harry's hand on her shoulder, his worried, inquisitive face peering at her. She gasps as the room tilts, she would fall if not for him steadying her.
"Stop!" she commands, magic flaring out from her.
The room halts, the air calms, the floor seems to right itself. Her mind lurches as the spinning comes to a sudden stop.
"What was that?!" Harry's voice comes from a long way away, "are you okay? Ginny?"
"Yes… yes, I'm fine." She stands up straight, moving away from his worried gaze, away from his tentative touch. "I'm fine."
She moves away, leaning down to study the runes as a distraction, as a focus.
He hovers behind her, as if he doesn't believe her, as if he's waiting for her to collapse. She feels a weight on her, pulling on her spine. She feels his presence like a pressure, worried and needling.
"I'm fine," she says, biting the word off as if it tastes bitter.
He takes a step back, giving her more space.
She focuses on the runes in front of her. "These are a mix of Summerian and Futhark runes. That's probably why you couldn't decipher them. Whoever wrote these did so very elegantly, I've never seen bind runes like these before. It's quite beautiful…" She runs her hand over the carved runes.
Harry comes to stand next to her, looking at where she's pointing. "Can you read it? What does it say?"
"Well," she says slowly, "it's not exactly saying anything… It's more of a ritual than a story."
She moves unhurriedly around the room, studying the runes as she goes.
She crouches down at the end of the room. "It's an inscription for how to run the ritual the room was designed for, but it doesn't say much about what the ritual will do — or what it's even for. But I say, if we want to find out, we just gotta do it!" She looks up at him with a mischievous grin.
He looks a bit shocked at first, but then grins down at her as well, completely accepting her ignorance.
Something like guilt twinges in her gut, but she ignores it.
"Run an untested ritual...?" he pauses to think, "I mean I guess we should do it!"
She smirks at him. Such a Gryffindor. "This is probably a terrible idea, but what's life without a bit of adventure, yeah?" She stands and moves to the center of the room, pulling out her wand. We'll be ok. I can control this.
And, glancing at Harry — he nods, confirming — she casts Ancingo Animo and Umbra, letting the spell encircle them.
Then, she etches berkana as a fiery rune in the air and pushes it outward. It sizzles through the air, vibrating and seething. The room ripples and quivers as the burning rune pushes its way through the air until it settles, shuddering and spitting, against the open wall. A roaring fills her ears and out of the corner of her eye Harry presses his hands to his ears, trying to block out the noise.
The shaking intensifies until the rocks split beneath their feet and Harry reaches out to grab her, pulling her over to him as the floor heaves and breaks.
And water pours out, crashing around the room in furious waves. Harry shouts and runs towards the door, but Ginny grabs ahold of his arm.
"Don't leave the circle!" she bellows over the rush of water.
He glares at her. "We have to leave! The room is filling up!"
But as he speaks, the water pulls away from the walls, condensing and rising in a tall humanoid form: lanky arms and legs hold up a slender body, the water rushing madly around inside its form, its eyes glow an icy white.
"Stay. In. The. CIRCLE!" she shouts over the roaring of the elemental.
And she steps out of the spell line.
"III"
Harry gapes at Ginny.
He's positive now that she knew exactly what the ritual would do.
He tries to grab at her as she leaves the protective circles she cast on the ground. But she darts out past his reach, holding her glowing palms out in front of her. She's shouting something at the watery creature they've summoned, but he can barely hear her over the storm of water and wind howling around the small room.
He catches snippets of her words, "algiz, mannaz, isaz, rādaesc." Her words run in a chant. Her voice lilts, drifting through the howling wind like a leaf in a glade.
But the wind is no longer howling.
And the water creature is no longer smashing around the room, looking for a way out.
And its body is no longer the roiling mass of rapids, but the gentle flow of a forest brook.
And now Ginny is looking back at him, through her real face. Her pink hair and angular features faded away at some point during her chanting.
And now she's grinning at him, wild and unbridled and fierce and… and he feels something tug behind his chest and he's a thirteen year old boy again, just looking at a girl from across the Great Hall feeling something wild in his chest, roaring to be set free.
AN -
Look at Harry reaching out to Ginny! Love it. Love them!
I love to hear what y'all think!
Til next time,
-Upstater-