None of this is mine. Harry Potter belongs to JKR and Bloomsbury, and Indiana Jones belongs to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount.
Chapter 5
The amateur treasure-hunters were dropped unceremoniously into a cell in the dungeons. That in itself was proof that they had not been taken out of the castle, which was an encouraging thought. Their bonds had not been removed, nor had Hermione's gag, and they were stripped of all equipment. She was more that mildly disgusted when one of their jailors frisked her for any concealed weapons; obviously these 'Death Eaters' lacked the common decency to have a female do the deed and this man, while quick and efficient about it, sent shivers of revulsion rushing down her spine. Although she could not have known it, Harry was watching her closely and the muscles in his arms relaxed only when the man had left. Her attention was instead focused on the fellow running his hands along her body, who smelt of very strong liquor; most likely bourbon. She considered herself a good judge of character, and this man was very disgusted by something. He obviously had very strong objections to touching her in any way, and this was counterbalanced by his alcohol-heightened lust. Disgusting.
But he did leave, and the door to their cell was closed and locked, and Hermione did not have the faintest clue what to do now. Harry and/or Ron probably had a plan, but she could neither ask them nor turn her body enough to see them. Not having much better to do, she fell asleep.
When she awoke, the first thing she saw was Harry's face hovering over hers. The next thing she noticed was that the foul taste in her mouth, which had been present ever since she had been gagged, was gone. This could mean only one thing: they were getting out. The question was, how?
She fielded her query once Harry had undone her hands, and set her to work on her feet. Ron answered by glancing around the room with a chuckle. "We've been in rougher situations than this." He commented with a tone of amusement in his voice. He and Harry shared a private joke about a particular pyramid they had been trapped in during their search for Tezcatlipoca's smoking mirror. The quiet chuckle was short lived, and Ron made his way over to a corner of the cell as Hermione found herself being led in the opposite direction.
She had to ask. "What is he doing over there?" She tried to look over her shoulder, but Harry tugged her chin around gently.
"You don't want to know." He responded gravely, before changing to a more tasteful subject. For the next few minutes they compared notes on the various exotic locations they had been to in their line of work. As it turns out, Egypt was not the only time they had almost overlapped. For example: Harry and Ron had been staying in the same Beijing hotel during their search for Rúyì Jīngū Bàng that the Grangers had been vacationing in after failing to find kusanagi-no-tsurugi; in fact, the two rooms had been stacked exactly on top of each other. They reminisced on places they had both visited, such as the Temple of Heaven and Tiananmen Square, until Ron caught up with them holding two objects. Upon closer inspection, they were a set of lock picks.
"Do I want to know where those things came from?" She asked Harry. He shook his head, and she trusted him. Some mysteries were better left unsolved. Ron had the door open in a matter of seconds, and the trio vacated the area quickly before their jailors decided to check up on them. The main problem: none of them knew enough about the castle to know where they were. This resulted in the small ensemble wandering aimlessly through the stone corridors. After a few minutes of this, they came to an open door. Hermione, well-trained at picking up sounds that could signify potentially dangerous traps, heard the hum muttered speech from within the room, and pushed her companions against the wall before they could walk past and give away their position. She pushed a finger to her lips and edged as close to the door as she dared, or rather until she could make out words.
"Has there been any progress in getting past?" one of the voices asked. It was silky and cold, and made her blood burn; it was the man who had killed her parents.
Another voice answered, this time almost a grunt. "No sir. It won't budge."
There was a pause, then a sigh from the first man. "Well get back down there Goyle, and remind them of the consequences of failing the Dark Lord. He advised most strenuously that we be in possession of the Spear by the time he returns tomorrow." Another pause, and then footsteps coming towards her. She hurried back, pushing Harry and Ron with her. A heavyset man, obviously Goyle, exited the room and lumbered down the corridor away from them.
Hermione beckoned and, thanking God that Goyle had closed the door on his way out, followed the man from a distance with her new friends in tow. Several times they had to stop and cautiously pass an opened door or lit corridor, but by some miracle of chance they were never spotted. They followed Goyle through the castle, and through the labyrinth, until he unknowingly led them to the center. In the chamber that lay at the end of the maze stood a single megalith, made of what appeared to be highly polished volcanic glass; the black surface shone under the flickering firelight emitted by the torches that lined the wall, and had an eerily mystical quality. Other than that, there were three Death Eaters standing around it. One of them was obviously Goyle. The other two had their masks off and hoods pulled back; both were male. One was an older man who looked to be around sixty or seventy, and the other was younger with a pale and twisted face. The younger one was quite irate.
"Well, if He wants the damn thing so much, He can come down here and blast this thing apart for Himself." He protested angrily. His voice had a hoarse and metallic quality, as though he had once screamed until his throat was raw and then had never spoken again.
The elder man shot him a scathing look. "Dolohov! Do not even think these things. Do you truly want to be here, without His prize, when He returns?" he enquired of his compatriot. The man named Dolohov looked at the stone floor and shook his head sullenly. "Good boy. You had best take over for Alecto on guard duty; you need time to clear your head of these thoughts before the Dark Lord returns." The young man, still looking at the floor, obviously agreed; he turned to the path out of the room and walked along it dejectedly.
Hermione was so engrossed in the conversation she was overhearing, and in studying the strange standing stone, that she did not notice the man coming towards her until Harry had pulled her back into the shadows. Dolohov passed them, coming so close that she could have reached out a touched him (as if she would want to), and continued on his way. They were about to vacate their hiding place when footsteps, coming from the monolith room, forced them back. Goyle and the older man had apparently furthered the conversation in Dolohov's absence and the lumbering man was now leaving to, at best guess, report the lack of progress to the man he had been speaking to earlier.
Now they crept out of the shadows towards the lit room. By some strange fortune, the man who remained in guarding the stone had turned his back to them in order to study it. Unfortunately, with their choices of footwear, there was no way they would be able to sneak up on him on the stone floor. Ron solved this problem most admirably, selecting a palm-sized rock from the ground and flinging it with deadly precision at the man's head; he crumpled and fell with a muffled thud. The amateur archaeologists crept forward, not wanting to alert any Death Eaters who may have entered the maze since they followed Goyle to the centre. Harry set himself about searching the fallen body for anything useful while Ron and Hermione studied the statue.
It was a positively immense structure, standing well over six feet tall. The torchlight glistened off of its polished black surface, except for one section about five and a half feet from the base. Closer inspection revealed a symbol carved into the stone, a single line coiled into three interlocking spirals. She asked Ron about it, as he seemed to be an expert on such things. "It's a triskele," he replied, "A Celtic fertility symbol. The three spirals represent the three domains of existence: earth, air, and water."
Harry interrupted at this point, extending a hand to each of them. In one sat Hermione's vest and the submachine gun she had been lent, and the other held Ron's hat, rifle and assorted pieces of equipment. He himself was once more wearing his revolver, whip, bag, and of course his hat; the older man Ron had felled had obviously been carrying their equipment. Talk about your lucky coincidences. Ron filled him in on the triskele, and then continued his narrative, explaining about a Druidic centering ritual connected to the symbol. He waved back his two friends and began it.
Ron stood erect, facing the triskele carving, with his eyes closed and arms relaxed at his sides. He inhaled for the count of three, held for one, and exhaled for the count of three, and held for one. This was repeated three times. He inhaled, again for three counts, but this time he raised his hands to cover his heart, one on top of the other, and held for one count. As he exhaled he descended smoothly onto one knee and placed his hands on the floor in front of him, and held for one. He rose to his feet in time with the next inhalation, moving his hands as far back as he comfortably could at waist height, and cupping his hands as though he were holding liquid. As he exhaled, his arms swung around him to meet at his front at about the height of his navel. He breathed in again, moving his hands back to and slightly away from his side with the palms facing forwards and fingers spread. He exhaled, bringing his arms above him in a smooth curve until he touched the tips of his thumbs and index fingers together. He inhaled for a final time, lowering his hands to again cover his heart.
As soon as he did that, more carvings began to appear on the stone. It was a verse, and read thusly:
You shall cross the barren desert, but you shall not die of thirst. You shall wander far in safety, though you do not know the way. You shall speak your words in foreign lands and all will be understood. You shall see the face of God and live. If you pass through the raging waters in the sea, you shall not drown. If you walk amid the burning flames, you shall not be harmed. If you stand before the power of hell and death is at your side, know that I am with you through it all. Blessed are your poor, for the kingdom shall be theirs. Blest are you that weep and mourn, for one day you shall laugh. And if wicked men insult and hate you all because of Me, blessed, blessed are you! Be not afraid, I go before you always. Come, follow me, and I will give you rest.
The inscription stood for a moment, until wisps of smoke began to creep out from beneath the monolith upon which it was carved. The smoke grew, and the tendrils of fire that had begun to lick the volcanic glass grew into a raging inferno that consumed the entire stone and stretched from floor to ceiling. And there it stayed. The three friends stood and examined it for a moment. It was as wide as a door; only its edges flickered like true firelight, its body flowed like a liquid; most curious of all, it emitted no heat.
"So…" Harry commented thoughtfully, "What do we do now?" Neither of the others answered. Ron because he honestly didn't know, and Hermione because she was mulling over the inscription that burned in her mind with all the intensity of the fire that had consumed it. She repeated it in her mind, and it was only when she reached one line that it began to make sense.
"If you walk amid the burning flames, you shall not be harmed." She muttered to herself. Harry and Ron fixed her with questioning looks. She nodded towards the pillar of fire. "We have to walk through the fire." She told them matter-of-factly.
There was a moment of silence. "And then what?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, I'm making this up as I go." She responded wearily, before walking directly into the centre of the flames. If either Harry or Ron were expecting some kind of ceremony, a flaring of the inferno perhaps, or a scream of pain, or even a rustling of wind, they were both disappointed; Hermione vanished instantly, completely, and without warning into the mysterious pillar of fire.
Ron and Harry glanced at each other, shrugged, and followed.
So there it is. A nice little Raiders reference, if you caught it.
The verse is from the Bible, Joshua 1:9. I got it from Wikiquote, and have been unable to find the version it belongs to. MSG is the closest, but nothing exact.