Chapter 4
Harry braced himself against the wall of the long and narrow hallway as it shook violently. Pieces of the stone fell around him and Logan from the ceiling and walls. The granite tiles shattered into dust when they landed on the floor. Random jets of light flew around the two wizards as they descended down the hallway. The spells exploded and crackled when they collided with the walls, creating bursts of heat and energy.
"Keep moving, Logan," Harry shouted over the load explosions, his ears ringing. He trailed a few strides behind Logan as they made their way through the chaos. The young wizard used his left arm to protect his face from the heat of the small explosions and swung his right aimlessly behind them as he casted spells with his wand. The darkness ate up the light that erupted from Harry's wand and then sent it back at him just as strong and twice as violent.
Harry's body was sweating heavily and the cotton linens he wore stuck to his body, slowing him down. His wool robes were tattered and torn at the fringes. The bottoms of his shoes were worn down to the sole. His brown cloak was covered with burns and patches were missing. Logan's condition didn't appear any better than his. The wizard's attire was similarly torn and charred, but Harry could also smell the burns and oil from Logan's shaggy hair and beard.
A spell made contact with a small column next to Harry. Stone, heat, and energy erupted when the spell touched the ancient granite, sending Harry into the wall opposite of the column. Logan turned around quickly to help him. He took Harry's wand from his bloody hands and muttered an incantation as he swung his arm vertically upward. The ground near Harry's feet shook violently after the spell was cast. Within seconds, the cobble stone floor broke apart and turned into small pieces of shrapnel and dust. The destruction rode down the hallway like a small tidal wave.
"C'mon," Logan demanded and gave Harry his wand back as he helped him onto his feet. Harry turned to survey the damage caused by Logan's spell, but he could barely see anything behind of him let alone the ruin caused by the spell. Logan tugged on Harry's collar to break the trance and to get him moving again.
When they reached the large atrium of the temple, Logan stopped at the opening and allowed Harry to run past him. "Run, Potter!" He shouted to his friend as he drew his own wand and faced the dark hallway. Harry immediately halted, a few steps from the staircase that led to the exit of the underground temple. He turned around too.
"I can't," Harry yelled back as he started to walk back to Logan. He wasn't going to leave his friend to fight them alone. Logan looked exhausted and was out of breath. The grizzled wizard wasn't going to last long alone against them and they both knew it. The hard truth was: even though Logan knew some obscure and random spells that were effective in combat, he wasn't a very good duellist.
"No. I'll hold them-" Before Logan could finish, a loud bang echoed through the large room as light from the hallway engulfed the darkness that was around them.
* * * * *
Harry stared out into the village through the ice-covered windows of the Snowflake Inn. Even though it was summer, it rarely stopped snowing at Winter's Crest. The small town lived up to its name and than some. Harry had relocated to the village a few months ago and everyday it snowed or rained or hailed or worse. Sometimes it was a light layer of snow, and other times it was close to being a full-blown blizzard. The young wizard was tired of the cold but he wasn't going to give up now.
After graduating from Hogwarts, Harry, Ron, and the other graduates were put into an accelerated apprenticeship and everything seemed to be going well after the first month. Then, under the orders of Shacklebot, Harry was sent to investigate a disturbance in the region. A few months prior to Harry's arrival, the use of magic had grown significantly and it caught the attention of the Ministry. While the Ministry did not see this as a potential threat, it wanted someone to check it out regardless. Thus, Harry was charged instead of a seasoned Auror. Even though he was still training, Shacklebot and the others were confident in Harry and believed that it was nothing serious. A mere visit would be sufficient. That's what they told Harry three months ago.
The room he stayed in was small, but it provided him with adequate space he needed to work. There was a tiny table and chair located in the far corner of the room next to the window he was standing at, while a bed of rags and blankets occupied the opposite corner. There used to be a mattress, but it smelled of urine and other unsavory things. And even though there was no mattress, it provided Harry the sleep he desperately required. But he slept very little regardless and the chilly air wasn't very helpful. The walls of the room were plastered with newspaper clippings, pictures, notes, and other various documents. Harry's investigation had evolved into something much bigger than perceived by the Ministry. However, a lot of it was mere conjecture and speculation and no one would take him seriously unless he had real evidence. Besides, Harry believed the Ministry had been infiltrated and was afraid his message to Shacklebot would be intercepted.
Thus the young wizard hadn't spoken to anyone outside of the village since he arrived. He barely talked to the inn's owner or his neighbors. It was better that way. Several owls had stopped by over the months with letters and messages from everyone, but he never answered them. He was amazed that the owls always found him and it was rare to receive an official message from the Ministry via aeroplane. A small mountain of letters and parcels had developed in the trashcan beside his table. Was this the life of an Auror on the road? Cut off and alone from friends, family, and the rest of the wizarding world?
Harry's trance was broken when an owl flew up to his room. It perched itself on the frozen edge of the window and started tapping its beak softly against the glass. Harry grimaced and forcefully opened the window before the owl could crack it. The owl hooted angrily when it was almost knocked off its perch. The bird had a small scroll tied to its leg, another letter Harry assumed. The wizard released the messenger of the scroll and let the window seal fall shut. The owl hooted again and flew away.
The letter was from Hermione and Harry read it quietly to himself:
Harry,
I hope you're doing well. We're all worried about you. None of us have heard from you in months. We need to know what's going on, I need to know. Please write back when you can.
Hermione
She had been writing him almost twice a week for the past month. Harry knew his best friend was only concerned about his wellbeing, but he didn't have time to answer her nor did he want to. He still wasn't sure about what he was getting himself into and endangering Hermione was the last thing he wanted. That's one of the reasons why he broke off his relationship, once again, with Ginny after the first month of his assignment. She also refused to look at the big picture and she always irrationally demanded too much from him.
"I'm sorry," Harry muttered to the imaginary Hermione in the room as he dropped the scroll the trashcan with the others. He could hear her voice in his head, she was scolding him for being self-sacrificing and for not allowing others to help him, but he did have help. He sat down in his bed of rags and shuffled through them. Underneath the blankets, he found a small tin box. The young wizard pulled out his wand and pressed it against the lock. There was a click and the enchantment was broken, but only for a moment. Every time it closed, the jinx would reset; a trick he picked up during his training.
He carefully opened the metal container. Harry smiled when he looked down at the pictures and other items that were held in the small box. The pictures were of him and his friends over the years. His favorite was of him, Hermione, and Ron at the Quidditch World Cup they attended before his fourth year at Hogwarts. The picture behind it was one of him and Hermione, swaying back and forth at a Gryffindor party. The one after that was of him and Ron playing their last game of Wizard's Chess in the Great Hall. Underneath that picture was one of him and Weasleys; they were huddle together in front of the newly built Burrow. The last was one of Hermione, alone, sitting on a bench. She looked beautiful in the picture, she always did. Ever since the Yule Ball, Harry couldn't ignore her beauty. He missed those days, those days at Hogwarts and those days in between. Even though it was filled with dark times, he was still happy since he was with those closest to him. Now the wizarding world was a better place with Voldemort gone but he wasn't happy and he was alone. Life was kind of funny that way.
Then there was a loud knock at the door. Harry turned his body towards the door with his wand drawn on it. He quickly closed the box and hid it beneath his makeshift bed. After hiding the small tin, he slowly got up and approached the door. The faint light from the hallway could be seen peeking through the openings in the wooden door, but he could see the shadow of someone covering some of the cracks. "Who is it?"
"It's Logan," the wizard called out. "Let me in." Harry let out a silent sigh of relief and hid his wand behind his back when he opened the door.
"Where have you been?" Harry asked.
"I found it." Logan smiled as he walked into the room. Harry stepped aside, keeping his back and wand turned away from Logan. The bearded wizard had a similar build to Harry, but he was five years his senior and appeared to be much bigger due to the number of layers he was wearing. He had various robes on, ranging from cotton to wool, and even some furs. Despite the fact that Logan was from this area, he was never fond of the cold. "It's barely November and it already feels like winter." Logan shook the crusts of snow off his back and shoulders and took off the large fur coat, greatly reducing his size and girth. "I think I know why they're here."
"Is that the map?" Harry pointed at the cylindrical case tied to Logan's side. Logan lifted up his arm and undid the knot that attached it to his shoulder. He pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment as he walked towards the table. With a swoop of his free arm, Logan pushed everything off the table. He then unrolled the scroll and laid it open for them to read.
"Yes, it's a map of Winter's Crest," responded Logan. Harry walked over to the table. The map was extremely old and rugged. The parchment was made of pig's hide and had greatly deteriorated over the years. The corners and edges were fringed and weaves were becoming undone. The ink was barely visible, but he could still read it. However, the size of the town on the map concerned him. It was a map of Winter's Crest, that was easy enough, but the map depicted the village as the size of London if not bigger.
"How old is this map?" Harry said, leaning over.
"I'd say a few thousand years," Logan smiled. Harry stepped back and examined the grin on his friend's face. Despite how the ludicrous the statement was, Logan was always sincere and truthful, at least to him, or at least that's what Harry believed. "I found it buried near the old crypt in the cemetery."
"You what?" Harry scolded. "You went grave digging?"
"No, not really," the wizard defended. "I learned that the map was hidden somewhere in the cemetery. Honestly, who would go digging in a cemetery?"
"You would," Harry replied coolly.
"Besides me, of course. An ingenious plan if you ask me," Logan admired. "And your suspicions were correct. The village was a wizarding center back in the day, but I never thought Winter's Crest could be so huge. I mean, thousands of years ago, this place was bigger than the City." The City. Logan always referred to London, or anywhere else that was bigger than Province for that matter, as "The City." It annoyed Harry for some reason but it was always humbling as well. "But for some reason, the population migrated from the region and it shrank into what it is today."
"Okay," Harry said. "Lets take a look at this." He started to scan the map quickly, but diligently. His eyes darted from left to right of the parchment as his mind consumed the map.
"What are we looking for?" Logan asked as he dug out a small flask from his robes.
"Not sure," Harry muttered.
"I mean," Logan explained. "There's nothing out of the ordinary if you ask me." He took a large swig from his flask. Harry ignored his friend's commentary and continued to search the map. Then he noticed a strange marking on the map near the edge of the city. He leaned forward, his nose almost touching the parchment, to get a better read. Harry could smell the residue of the ink that once was there. It appeared someone had removed the ink from the pig's hide, but the impressions from the engravings were still there.
"This," Harry stated and pointed for Logan to see.
"What is it?" Logan wondered.
Harry grimaced. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But there's one way to find out."
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