Archive of Our Own

Millie Halasey stared at herself in the full-length mirror, shifting on her feet uneasily. With a warm tan pea coat, a crisp white button up, and a loosely done tie, she looked unrecognizable to herself. She had never felt so…neat. All done up, sharp and organized-like. Not only that, but she felt different, like a fish in the process of being yanked out of the water. And if she was being completely honest, she felt a little sick to her stomach.

She turned away from the mirror and went to the window to look down at the street below. Still no carriage. The clock on her bedside table read 10:48. “Oh my God ,” Millie sighed, raking her hands through her dusty-grey hair and starting to pace.

Today was the day she stepped into the unknown and left her old life behind forever. Before the day was done, she would officially be enrolled in school, sorted ino one of their Houses, and—God help her—she was in for the ride of her life. She had spent the last year cramming every penny of information into her head that she could get her hands on. Hours upon hours dedicated to catching up to stand at the level she would be expected to perform at. Mountains of books full of brand new words and paths of knowledge, all of it seemed overwhelming now that she stood at such a precipice.

She hung her head with a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. She calmed down with a few deep breaths and pulled her wand out of her inside jacket pocket. She twirled it between her fingers, admiring the carvings on its hilt. The 12 ¼ inches of dark ebony had become as familiar and dear to her as the hand that wielded it. She could still and would likely always remember the day she had gotten it. Or, the day it had chosen her. She had nearly burned down a wall of wands in Ollivander’s with the first wand to reject her, and then crushed the small brass bell on the desk with the second. In classic “third time’s the charm” fashion, Ollivander had given her the ebony wand on the third try, and she had managed to produce brilliant gold sparks despite never casting a proper spell beforehand.

Millie sighed deeply and slipped the wand back in her coat. She went back to pacing, nibbling slightly on her bottom lip. She walked over to her trunk holding all her books, clothes, and anything else she would need for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A second, much smaller case sat beside it with her personal effects and belongings within. She crouched down beside it and double-checked that everything was there. A few worn and weathered books, a small folded knife, a journal, a canister of pencils, and a drawstring pouch of coins she had exchanged her muggle money for.

She sat on the floor next to the case, resting her back against the enormous trunk. She told herself she would be fine. Totally, completely fine, absolutely. She just had to… She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, willing herself to calm down. She survived for years on the streets, she could roll with any punch that came her way. Academic or actually, she’d never give up until she had breathed her last.

“A morbid thought for one so young,” Miriam’s voice echoed in her head, a memory from their first interaction. She had replied with a shrug and a cheeky smirk, wiping blood from her eye. She couldn’t possibly have known then how much her life would transform in just a year.

There was a knock on the door, startling Millie out of her daydream. She got to her feet. “Yes?” she called, her voice going hoarse at the end. She grimaced and cursed as the door opened.

“Swear,” Professor Fig immediately said as he entered. Millie sighed again and dug in that drawstring pouch for a little copper coin and flicked it off her thumb. He caught it out of the air. “Thank you.”

Eleazar Fig, the professor of Magical Theory at Hogwarts. Millie had fallen into the habit of often just calling him “Fig”, but now she was working hard to break it. He had taught her most of the magic she knew, and by all rights he acted as a parental guardian to her. He was an older man with swept back grey hair and equally grey chops. He had a kind and genuine smile that had many a time encouraged her during moments of frustration during her studies. Now, however, he gave her a look of slight concern. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

She nodded slowly, wringing her hands slowly. “If I’m honest, a little sick…” She folded her arms over her chest and shifted on her feet. “I’m nervous… very nervous.”

He offered that kind smile. “You’ll do brilliantly, I’m sure of it. Miriam would have loved to see this day.” Millie’s heart thumped sadly at the mention of Fig’s late wife. He glanced toward the window. “The carriage is here. Are you ready?”

“I don’t think I ever could be, Professor, but let’s do it anyway,” she declared with a grin.

“Excellent!” He drew his wand and Vanished her belongings. “Those will be safe, waiting for you at Hogwarts. Let’s be off. The ride will take a couple hours at most, but of course it was thought best to escort you instead of sending you alone on the Hogwarts Express.”

They descended downstairs and out the front door, which Fig locked with another wave of his wand. Millie turned around to face the street and gasped sharply, backing up into the door with a thud, a hand covering her mouth. “Jesus H. Christ,” she breathed, clapping her hand over her forehead instead, staring wide-eyed at the creatures that pulled the carriage. They were almost like horses, if they had risen up straight from Hell. Dark leathery skin stretched over their bodies devoid of musculature, bones clearly defined. They sported two large wings and a long thin tail. Their eyes were a milky grey and their snouts came to a sharp beak-like mouth. “What the hell are those?”

Fig stared at her for a moment, surprised. “Godric’s heart…you can see thestrals?”

Thestrals… She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she struggled to remember. “They’re, uh…” She snapped her fingers a few times. “They can only be seen by people who have seen death, right?”

He nodded. “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s alright, its just…” She giggled nervously. “Bit of a shocking sight…” She approached the carriage slowly. “They’re not aggressive, right?”

“If I remember correctly, they’re only so when protecting their young, but little else is known about them,” Fig recalled. “They are sometimes seen as bad omens, specifically ones of death, for obvious reasons.”

“Like a dark valkyrie,” Millie mused aloud, remembering mythical tales of the Aurora Borealis to the north and how the Norsemen believed them to be spirits that guided warriors to the halls of Valhalla. A slow smile spread across her face. “She could definitely see why they would hold a bad reputation, but they were also admirably regal. When she got closer, one turned its head toward her. It had a pair of horns instead of ears which made it more difficult to gauge its expressions. Millie avoided eye contact cautiously and slowly reached a hand up. It sort of snuffled her fingers lightly and huffed a hot breath into her palm. Excited, she broke into a wide grin and looked at Fig, but some strange expression crossed his face before he returned the smile then turned to speak with the driver of the carriage.

Millie gazed at the thestrals again, feeling something between wonder and bizarre curiosity. The way their dark leathery skin stretched over their large, bony structures was wicked. It felt rough beneath her touch like a pair of leather boots, and the thestral seemed to like her attention, chirping quietly. Like a bird, she thought. She had a Beasts class at Hogwarts; she had to remind herself later to take a look at her textbook again.

She was struck with the thought of why she could see them in the first place. From an odd perspective, her mother had just given her a gift years after she had passed. One of the other thestrals tapped its hoof against the cobbled street, snorting. The thestral she was petting shuffled its large wings.

“Millie.” She spun around and hurried back over to Professor Fig. “Are you ready?”

Strangely, she was feeling better. Just as she nodded though, a sound like a gunshot and a whip combined snapped at the open air and startled her nearly to death this time, and she fell back against the carriage wheel, gripping the spokes. A middle-aged man appeared out of nowhere, bespectacled and wearing a trench coat. Millie nearly cursed but she bit her tongue. She knew what Apparating was and she had seen it before but the sound of it scared the hell out of her. Fig muffled a chuckle behind a cough and Millie made a face at him as her heart thumped.

The man spun around and his face immediately brightened when he saw the two of them. “Ah! Eleazar!” he quipped and approached them.

“George!” Fig greeted the man. “Good to see you again, my friend.” They shook hands. “It’s been much too long. When I received your owl, I must say, I–”

George held up a hand. “Ah, best not speak here, Eleazar, hmm?” Both of them looked up and down the street and the hair on the back of Millie’s neck stood on end. She too looked around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary in the thin morning light barely making it through the clouds.

“Of course,” Fig agreed. “Why don’t we speak en route to Hogwarts? We have a start-of-term feast and a Sorting Ceremony to get to.”

George smiled kindly at them. “Wonderful idea! As long as your young charge here don’t mind me tagging along.” He motioned walking with two fingers and Millie couldn’t help but grin.

“No complaints from me, sir,” she said.

“Excellent,” Fig noted. He gestured to Millie. “After you.” The door of the carriage–fittingly adorned with the Hogwarts crest–swung open on its own. Millie flinched in surprise but just shook her head slightly and climbed in. She sat down and looked around the inside curiously. She had been in a carriage before, and she had stolen rides on them plenty of times, but none had been pulled by thestrals.

“Oh,” she breathed quietly. This carriage was going to fly. She looked around again and noticed a lack of straps or restraints of any kind. Fig and George sat down as well and the door snapped closed. She spotted the brass bar on it and firmly grasped it. Her heart quickened once again and her knuckles went white. 

“Millie?” Fig asked.

“I’m fine,” she lied automatically. “Just a tad nervous about flying, is all…” She glanced out the windows again and pursed her lips. “I’m fine.”

“It’s been some time since I myself attended Hogwarts,” George said, “but I assure you these carriages are completely safe.”

She chuckled nervously. “I don’t doubt it, it just that some of these new experiences can be…intense.” The driver snapped the reins and the carriage lurched down the street and quickly peeled away into the sky. Millie gasped and held her breath as they soared over the buildings. It felt like her chest might burst in both fear and excitement, but even instincts as strong as survival couldn’t stop her from staring out the window in complete wonder.

“Oh, wow ,” she breathed as they soared widely around Big Ben. The buildings and streets stretched over the land surrounding the Thames in an almost patchwork job of blocks and districts. Millie rubbed her brow and smiled. As they flew higher, she eventually couldn’t even make out the carriages or people down on the ground.

“What do you think, Millie?” Fig asked.

She turned to look at him for a second. “Not sure I have enough money to use the words I want,” she joked, “but…it’s a spectacular view of our world. Like what the angels saw then they were sent from Heaven.”

Another gift, she thought to herself. She was one lucky street rat. They rose steadily higher into the dreary clouds, leaving the city behind. Every step she took from now on would be brand new territory, and she would need every inch of her wits about her if she was going to survive this new, wild world.

“Glad I caught you before you left for Scotland,” George was saying as she pulled herself from her daydream.

“Just barely,” Fig added.

“How have your studies been going thus far before term, Miss Halasey?” he asked.

“It’s a lot to absorb,” she admitted, clasping her hands together. She smirked. “But I think I might pull it off yet.” The men chuckled at her easy tone.

“None of the other faculty has ever heard of anyone being admitted to Hogwarts so late,” Fig said. “But she has taken to magic better than any student I’ve seen before.”

“Truly extraordinary,” George marveled. “Of course, Miss Halasey, you couldn’t have asked for a better mentor. Professor Fig has not only always been an exceptional teacher, he is also a remarkably intuitive–and gifted–wizard.” Beside Millie, Fig waved a passive hand and she snickered quietly.

“Mr. Osric is prone to flattery,” he told her. “I daresay its one of the reasons he’s risen so far in the Ministry.” He chuckled.

George straightened and pulled a folded newspaper out from inside his coat. “Have you seen this?” He unfolded it and held it out. It was a copy of the Daily Prophet with a haunting moving picture of a snarling goblin. Beside the picture in big bold letters read, “RANROK’S GOBLIN REBELLION: TRUTH OR GOBBLEDEGOOK?” Having only recently been adopted into the Wizarding World, Millie knew little of the relationships between goblins or wizards other than that it had been strained for centuries. 

“I have,” Fig mused solemnly. “Opinions differ as to how great a thread Ranrok really is.”

The sunlight shined brightly on Millie’s face as they broke through the top of the clouds. Her eyes widened as she saw the clouds laid out before them like an endless land of wool or cotton. There was no indication at all that the city below was grey and dreary compared to the golden white light of the sun illuminating the clouds. She had seen some spectacular sights in her life, but being able to witness such a beautiful sight made her forget all about her unfounded fear of heights.

“Although I’ve yet to convince my colleagues at the Ministry, I believe he is a significant threat.” Millie saw the clouds disturbed by something below and a shadow quickly slipped beneath the carriage. She figured it was a trick of the light and ignored it. “And it was your wife, Eleazar, that alerted me to his activities months ago.”

Millie’s attention was snatched at the mention of Miriam. George nodded at her. “You were there, Miss Halasey, just in the next room.” She nodded too, of course remembering the time she had met Mr. Orsic. He had been kind enough to stay a few hours to answer her questions about the Ministry of Magic.

Fig frowned slightly. “Miriam? How?”

“Before we met in person she wrote a letter to me about Ranrok, wondering what the Ministry knew about his activities.” He set the newspaper aside. “Not long before she passed I received this.” He produced a long, decorative cylinder from his coat. It was made of metal and encased by a frame of intricate shining engravings. A swirling crest adorned the front of it and Millie recognized it immediately from Miriam’s research. It had come up again and again but she said there never seemed to be an answer of what it meant or signified. The engraved symbol glowed a gentle blue, swirling calmly along the lines like smoke.

“It was the last thing she sent me, Eleazar,” George continued. “It came to me via her owl, but with no correspondence.” He lowered his gaze to the cylinder. “I can only assume–”

“That she had to get rid of it quickly,” Fig finished for him. He took the cylinder from George and examined it carefully. “To keep it safe, no doubt.”

“Presumably from Ranrok. I cannot open it. Whatever magic protects this capsule is powerful indeed.”

“It looks like goblin metal,” Fig noted, tracing a finger along the flawless craftsmanship.

“It’s beautiful,” Millie said. “What makes it glow like that?” The two men stared at her with blank expressions. She looked between them, confused. “There, on the signet.” She pointed.

“I don’t see a glow,” Fig said, turning the capsule in his hands.

“Nor do I,” George conceded.

Millie stared at the glow. “Am I going mad?”

Fig held it out to her. “Where is it glowing?”

“On the signet,” she repeated, taking it in her hands. It was cool to the touch but something about it made her fingertips tingle. The glow of the swirling signet zipped in narrow lines to either end of the capsule, and with a soft blink of light, the face of the capsule split open down the middle. Millie gasped and froze.

“Merlin’s beard!” George exclaimed.

Inside sat a large bronze key, the flag of it matching the signet exactly. Millie instinctively reached for it.

“Wait!” Fig put his hand over the capsule, stopping her. “We do not know what–”

As sudden as Heaven’s lightning, the back end of the carriage was ripped away with the loudest cacophony of noise Millie had ever experienced, and her and Fig were left unscathed, but now sitting in only half a carriage.

“Bloody fucken hell!” Millie shrieked, pulling her feet up and crouched atop the seat. The shining cloudscape was laid bare to them, and Millie’s jaw dropped as she saw a literal dragon hovering just above the barrier, crunching its enormous teeth down on the half of the carriage it had torn away. Mr. Osric! 

Fig grabbed her arm tightly. “Hold on!” he shouted over the screaming wind. The driver snapped the reins and the dragon pursued them. It was covered from horns to tail in dark colored scales, and despite the distance, Millie could spot its glowing eyes like the hot embers of a fireplace. It’s massive wings were torn in places and a few of its larger scales were missing. Thick cuffs of glowing red metal wrapped around each of its legs. It opened its humongous jaws and she could see the glow of dragonfire rising from the back of its throat.

“Jump!” Fig yelled, and Millie screamed as he actually pulled her into the open air, into freefall. So much for conquering her fear of heights. The wind whipped past her and pulled harshly at her clothes. She twisted and spun and tumbled, and with a loud explosion, the dragon flew through the remains of the carriage, decimating it to splinters.

“The key!” Something bronze flew past Millie’s face as she managed to flatten herself face down. The wind blasted her hair straight back and her eyes began to water. The key spun through the air. The dragon roared high above them. Millie glanced over her shoulder and saw it tuck it wings and begin to hurtle towards them.

“Professor!” she warned.

“Give me your hand!” She reached frantically and he managed to snatch her wrist and extend his other hand out toward the key. “ Accio! ” The key pulsed a bright blue and flew straight into Fig’s open hand. The world around them was shoved into tight darkness and Millie fell heavily on something stone, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her ears rang and she pressed her forehead against the ground, grimacing. She coughed and her right side throbbed so she rolled on her back.

She was surprised to see there was no sky above her, just a ceiling os solid stone with a crack through the middle that let in a sliver of sunlight. Millie’s eyes wandered and found they were in a cave. Fig sat up with a groan and got to his feet, brushing off his clothes. She winced as she sat up. Seconds ago they had been falling to their untimely deaths. What in the hell had just happened?

Fig rubbed his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked her immediately. Millie nodded and gave a thumbs up. 

You know the drill, Millie, she told herself, get up, walk it off. She got to her feet and caught her breath, slightly surprised her heart could make her chest hurt so much, but she was calming down. She brushed dirt from her clothes and looked around. Small patches of grass and moss adorned the cool, damp stone around them, and a red squirrel skittered past to hide in a hole. She coughed again, feeling that twinge in her side. “What happened?”

Fig cupped his chin. “Poor George,” he sighed sadly. “I can’t believe he–” He spun around, his expression growing increasingly confused.”What the hell got into that damn thing? Attacking a carriage mid-air?” He paced back and forth. “A typical dragon would never behave like that!”

Clenching her jaw against the pain in her side, Millie’s hands shook as she absentmindedly straightened her tie. It was beginning to set in that she had just seen a man get eaten whole right in front of her by a bloody dragon. It was barbaric; Mr. Osric had been such a kind man. He had been enthusiastic to answer her many questions when they first met, and he had been just as kind and silly in their last encounter.

“Millie?”

She turned, holding her side. “Professor?”

He frowned. “You’re positive you’re not hurt?”

“I’m alright,” she confirmed. “I, uh…” She raked a hand through her hair and spotted the key on the ground. “What is that, exactly?”

Fig picked it up and turned it over in his hands. The head of the key was made in the likeness of the signet on the capsule, which Millie retrieved. “It must be a Portkey,” he told her, “an item enchanted to bring whoever touches it to a specific place.”

Looking around, Millie sighed. “A cave,” she stated blandly. “I mean, I’ve never been in a cave, is this a magical one?” She squinted at the bright opening where the cave sloped down slightly. She pointed. “Should we take a look outside?”

“Yes, but stay close. We have no idea who created this Portkey–or why.” He picked up the capsule and returned the key. “Keep this safe, Millie,” he told her firmly, handing it to her.

She took it. “Yes, sir,” she promised. “And thank you, sir. For saving my life.”

He scoffed and squeezed her shoulder. “Of course, Millie. I am, after all, responsible for you.”

She laughed aloud. “Professor, I think whatever this is–” She held up the capsule. “–falls outside the realm of any ordinary circumstances.”

“True, nonetheless, we still need to find our way to Hogwarts. Let’s go.”

As they started toward the light, Millie slid the capsule in her jacket, even doing the small button to keep the pocket closed. Her wand was still in her other pocket as well and she breathed a sigh of relief. So far, she still had it together. For now. She took a deep breath, raising her hand against the piercing light. Wind whipped through her hair and she could smell the salt of the ocean on it. As her eyes adjusted, her hand drifted down to her mouth.

The vast expanse of the ocean stretched out before them, but also a couple hundred feet below. The cave opened up to a path in the cliffside that continued higher above them. Millie held her ashen hair back and tried not to lose her balance as she looked straight up the sheer face of the cliff, grinning wildly. She turned again and stared out across the long rolling waves of the ocean. A behemoth rock spire stood against the wind and waves, taller than God’s highest basilicas. It stole her breath and she prayed she would never forget the unique sight. Stone brick walls stood in ruins as a part of the spire. It stood so isolated from the cliffs it was difficult to imagine there had ever been stable ground to build it on.

“‘Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock,’” Millie quoted. “‘And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on that rock.’ Guess there’s some wisdom in that after all.”

“Ah, the Muggle Christian texts, yes?”

To hear it be called that made Millie laugh. “It was one of the first books I read as a child. My mother was raised that way.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Where are we, sir?”

“Further from London than the carriage, for sure,” Fig told her. “This seems like the costal Highlands.” White seagulls rose with the updrafts and soared at will. He nodded toward the ruins. “I reckon the Portkey was meant to lead us there, don’t you?” She flashed a cheeky grin and his expression mellowed. “This has not been the day either of us expected, and I’m sorry you have had to experience this… delay. ” He rested his hands on his hips. “But Miriam sent that Portkey to George for a reason, and I believe that she–and now George–died in pursuit of whatever it was meant to lead to.” He gave her a critical look. “If you’re sure you’re alright, and you wouldn’t mind indulging me–I’d like to take a look around.”

Millie nodded eagerly. “Despite everything, Professor, there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be. I’m sure Hogwarts will still be there whenever we manage to show up. Besides, we owe it to Mr. Osric to find out why it lead to his death.”

Fig gave her a kind smile. “I wholeheartedly agree. Let’s follow the path along the cliffs and see where it leads.”

“After you, sir.”

They trekked carefully down the cliffside path. Millie accidentally kicked a small rock and it tumbled over the edge to the crashing waves below. She leaned over slightly to look but her vision tunneled slightly and she quickly backed away from the edge. Although she had two feet on solid ground, the wind tugged and pulled at her clothes, and she had zero intention of dying after surviving a bloody dragon attack.

“Mind your step,” Fig advised. The wind whipped the tails of his open coat.

Millie giggled nervously. “Oh, trust me Professor, I’m all over it already,” she joked. “Where do you think Miss Miriam found the capsule with the Portkey?” There was a rocky ledge that disrupted the path and Millie clambered over it with ease and minimal hesitation and looked back at Fig, who was looking intensely at the ruins on the spire.

“A good question,” he stated, turning to her. She immediately braced one hand on the edge and held out the other. “As you know᠆” He grunted as Millie helped him up. “᠆Miriam spent years searching for evidence of a long-forgotten form of ancient magic, powerful, and only wielded by a rare few. She always thought it lost to time. Hogwarts castle was built by, and is itself of that ancient magic.”

“I guess I never asked outright, but why ?”

“Initially she wanted to understand why such powerful magic disappeared from the Wizarding World,” he explained. The trail wound into the rock as a damp cave. It gradually sloped downward. “She often spoke of the good it could bring to the world. But magic is no different than any other power. What matters is the one who wields it.” Millie made a mental note to remember that. The cave opened up again with two natural columns of stone framing the visage beyond. Beside it, where the path seemed to continue, stood a huge wall of what looked like black ice, but it wasn’t nearly cold enough for it to be there if it was.

“Is that magic?” Millie asked outright.

“Very good,” Fig praised. “Yes, it looks like a sort of enchantment. Someone wanted to block this path.” He waved at her. “Take out your wand, let’s see how much you practice outside of my teachings.”

“All I ever do is practice,” she countered, taking her wand out of her pocket. “ And study.” She took an even deep breath and focused the magic within her in a way that now came naturally to her. With a flick of her wrist, she cast three sharp bolts of red at the wall and it shattered. Bt instead of scattering to the ground as she expected, the pieces froze in mid air, then swirled as if falling down a drain, breaking down smaller and smaller until it all flew away on the wind as harmless dust, and Millie watched it go.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Excellent!” Fig cheered. “Perfect form. You’ll be a force to be reckoned with once you get some proper schooling,” he said with a wink.

Millie returned her wand to her pocket. “Thank you, Professor.”

They continued down the winding passage. The cave opened up to the sea again, and a massive natural arch swung high over their heads, echoing the sounds around them. Millie watched a small flock of seagulls fly smoothly through it and catch an updraft. In the city, the air was too dirty and thickened by smoke, but it was so clear and blue on the northern coasts. Another addition to the list of a thousand simple things she had been ignorant to before. She couldn’t believe how beautiful the world was outside the confines of the city.

“The path here has deteriorated,” Fig said. Millie shuffled to the edge again to see and quickly stepped back. “I suppose nature reclaims what has been lost to time.” He cupped his chin and stared down a tattered pile of stone debris lying right across the path. Like before, Millie hopped over the rocks easily, honestly enjoying herself. There was plenty of climbing to do in the city, and she had to get quite good at it if she wanted to keep out of the hands of the law. “Don’t wander too far ahead, Millie.”

“I won't!" she called back. She climbed up to the highest boulder and hauled herself to its top, feet perched precariously on a skinny ledge. As soon as she lifted her head over the top the wind immediately blew her hair back. She grinned and shivered as the chill snaked down her coat, but the view was still worth it. She wished she had a camera to capture the majesty of the coastline.

"You're quite the experienced climber," Fig noted, climbing over a smaller boulder. "Though I should hardly be surprised. Miriam once wrote that you had climbed up to the roof on occasion."

Millie cracked a grin and jumped back down. "It's a nice view," she replied simply. "I'm surprised you never caught me up there. I've been climbing for as long as I can remember. Cops will run you down, but they've never followed me to a rooftop." She held out a hand and again helped Fig up a ledge. She confirmed the capsule and her wand were still in her coat and followed Fig down the debris pile.

The cave opened for a final time, pointing them directly at the ruins. The cobbled path was cut off abruptly by the drop of the cliff, leaving about fifty yards of empty space they would need to cross. With nothing to shield them, the wind picked up speed and Millie had to somewhat brace against it. She laughed to herself and turned toward it so it flapped her coat dramatically. She turned to ask how they were going to get across, but Fig was already pulling his wand out. He gave it a wide, swirling wave and the tip pulsed with light. “ Reparo! ” he shouted over the howling wind.

Millie stared open-mouthed as dozens of stones rose from the chaotic ocean below. They flew through the air in the same motion Fig had waved his wand with almost unnatural speed. The water that dripped from them contended with the wind when it came to volume, and whatever fell back to the ocean rumbled angrily like a storm. The stones arranged themselves in a neat level path that bridged the gap. As it came together, Millie could almost imagine what it originally looked like, standing at attention on the coast. A grand entrance, perhaps, to a seaside fortress or a place someone called home. The last tiles flew through the air and clapped into place, and Millie laughed quietly to herself, awestruck.

“I love magic,” she muttered with a silly grin, following after Fig across the repaired bridge.

The ruin, although sad and abandoned long ago, gave Millie a sense of energy. A shiver rippled her skin and she rubbed her arms together. She could swear she heard some sort of fluttering noise, but it faded when she noticed it. Probably just the ocean echoing off the cliffs. The partially ruined floor was decorated with a wide, circular mosaic of a Celtic design. One wall was felled completely, no doubt lying in pieces somewhere in the ocean below.

“Why would someone have this built all the way out here?” she asked.

Fig put his hands on his hips and looked around the space. “I suspect they valued their privacy,” he speculated. “The Portkey led us here for a reason.”

Millie took his words as a pass to freely explore, and she began to wander around the scattered debris, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Though, of course, all of it felt out of the ordinary to her. She was an orphaned street rat, currently in the Scottish Highlands, searching around an ancient, derelict castle that was probably hundreds of years old for traces of ancient magic that was even older. She scoffed as she approached a tall, intact statue of a bearded man holding out a rusted orb in his hand. She was way out of her depth, witch or no. She studied the statue’s weathered face and missing left arm. There was no carving or plaque to tell her his name, but she could see him as the wizarding type.

“Do you think he made the Portkey?” Millie called over. The wind caught her hair and blew it in her face.

“Perhaps so,” Fig replied. “This may have been his home.”

Mille used both hands to push her hair out of her face. “He might need to get a caulker in, I think I can feel a bit of a breeze.” She heard Fig laugh and she grinned to herself. She walked all around the statue and saw nothing that caught her eye, so she wandered over to where Fig was closely looking over an intact part of the far wall. A relief depicted the same man sitting before a large orb just like the one the statue held. Large cracks and pieces broken off separated another depiction of the wizard holding a telescope and studying a star map.

“Perhaps our host was a noted Seer,” Fig said.

“Doesn’t the Ministry keep a record of all known, certified Seers?” Millie asked. “If we find his name, perhaps we could find more information about him.”

Fig looked impressed. “Quite intuitive. But first we’ll have to actually find something, and this place has certainly suffered the years.” 

The clouds parted just enough to allow some sunlight to filter through. Millie went over to the ruined corner of the arcade and looked out over the ocean. The sun’s golden beams pierced through the clouds to strike the rolling sea below. Her coat rippled in the wind and her hair flew wild. There was a lovely feeling of elation whenever she got to witness something new and extraordinary. It was definitively otherworldly to imagine where she was compared to what her entire life had been beforehand. 

The only thing that was starting to pester her thoughts was a question: Why had a mystery man lead them to his home? And what for?

She turned to go back, but something caught her eye. The columns and archways weren’t an arcade, but a balcony with enough floor intact for her to carefully skirt along the wall. More of the ruined home sat behind the wall of reliefs, and something glowed within the stone atop a short set of stairs. A shiver ran down Millie’s neck and she rubbed at the feeling with her hand, frowning.

“Professor!” she shouted. “I think I found something!” She held her hair back and waited for the professor to follow the path and appear around the corner. “Can you see that?” she asked, pointing at the dull reflective glow coming from the stone wall.

“It appears to be some sort of enchanted stone, like we saw earlier. Let’s get a closer look.” They carefully stepped over the debris and up a few steps that led to the wall. Millie stopped dead with one leg on either side of a collapsed column when she suddenly saw the same swirling signet that was on the Portkey’s capsule. Fig continued to approach, unperturbed. “Why would someone have conjured this stone here?” he mused. “How odd…”

His words barely reached Millie’s ears. She rubbed her brow, confused. She stepped over the piece of debris and noticed the stone shifted, widening its blueish reflective surface. She cocked her head at it.

Fig turned around to look at her. “Millie? What is it?”

She hesitated, then pointed. “You can see the enchanted stone?” He nodded. “But the–” Two more steps and the stone continued to spread until it took up the whole face of the wall. She dug out the capsule from her coat and held it up to the identical symbol on the wall. She looked at Fig and pointed at the capsule’s signet. “I can see the symbol on the wall, Professor.”

“The same symbol?” She nodded and hummed. “Does it have the same glow as the capsule?” She nodded again. “I don’t see it, just the enchanted stone. What else can you see?”

“Umm…” She tucked the capsule away and cautiously approached the wall. “It looks like…glass. Like cloudy blue glass…” She flinched when it changed before her eyes. The stone turned a bright golden color and presented the image of an ornate hall of white and gold trim and a large crystal chandelier. “Uh…i-it’s a room,” she said dumbly.

“A room?” he echoed.

“Yeah…” Without a clear reason why, Millie reached her hand out towards the symbol. If she opened the capsule, then maybe… As soon as the tip of her index finger touched the smooth image, the symbol pulsed brightly and disappeared. The stone retraced within itself like draining water. In the blink of an eye, a shadow fell over them and the air went eerily quiet. They both whipped around at the same time and the entire cliffside castle was gone, completely replaced with the room she had seen through the stone. 

“Merlin’s beard! What–?” Fig looked at her, but when she just shrugged, they carefully continued forward.

Millie couldn’t help but lag behind, trying to look at every inch of the room. The natural rock formations were enthralling, and they framed the neatly ornate titles and gated area headed by a tall lectern or desk perhaps. Illuminating lampposts stood at strategic points, topped with flawless white orbs.

“This looks familiar,” Fig declared. “This architecture…it looks like Gringotts.”

“The wizarding bank?” Millie asked.

“Yes, exactly.” They approached the tall desk, which atop it sat the thickest tome Millie had ever seen. Easily three times as much as her biggest textbook. She could also see just the top of a slightly tousled head of dusty grey hair, and whomever sat beneath the book was snoring quietly. Fig held out his hand to her, then cleared his throat politely. Millie fought against a smirk when the sleeping stranger didn’t react. Fig repeated the sound, louder, and still nothing.

Millie took a step closer and gave the base of the desk a good kick with her shoe. Fig hissed her name but the stranger snorted and slowly sat up. Millie’s eyes widened as she saw a goblin blink blearily over the top of the desk at them. So they were at Gringotts? Gnarled fingers with fine long fingernails curled over the edge of the desk, and the balding, puppy-dog-eyed goblin shifted, looking down. His dark eyes widened as he focused on them.

“It can’t be,” he gasped excitedly in a squeaky voice. He held up a long finger. “Just a moment.” He turned and disappeared momentarily behind the desk. 

Millie and Fig shared a look of confusion. First, a dragon. Then, seaside ruins. And now…a solely stationed goblin at Gringotts? She could remember the first time she had seen a goblin in the bank lobby. Miss Miriam had taken her to Diagon Alley in the early days of Millie’s home-schooling for supplies. She had succumbed to childish instinct and grabbed Miriam’s sleeve when the teller stared critically down at her with his dark black eyes. All her childhood she had imagined goblins as small, dirty, and somewhat feral creatures dressed only in loincloths characterized as a conniving villain.

Back then, she wouldn’t have had the faintest idea how wrong she really was. The goblin wandered out from behind the desk. He wore a emerald green vest with a soft yellow bow tie, finishing the look with dark slacks and polished shoes. He stepped up and gave a flourishing bow. “Welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Vault number twelve, I presume?” he asked, folding his hands together.

Fig hardly missed a beat, nodding. “Precisely,” he affirmed.

The goblin waited, then squinted slightly. He held his hand out. “The key?”

“Oh!” Millie almost tore at her coat to pull out the capsule and the key within. She handed it to the goblin with what she hoped passed as a friendly smile.

“This way,” the goblin said, gesturing. Millie went to follow, but Fig held out his hand again to stop her. He gave her a serious look.

“Stay close,” he told her. “And keep your eyes open. We still don’t know why we’re here.”

“Eyes and ears, Professor, I’m on it,” she hummed.

They stepped up to a grated metal platform that stretched above a set of railway tracks. Only, instead of resting on sleepers, it was held by a series of metal splints bolted right into the stone around it. In both directions, it disappeared into abysmal darkness that struck Millie with a child-like stroke of fear. 

“ God! –Mary and Joseph!” she gasped when she made the mistake of looking down. Past the grate was a bottomless crevasse that her heart dropped right down into. Her fingertips tingled and she nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

“It’s alright,” Fig assured her. “I can promise you, the goblin craftsmen and smiths are known for their flawless engineering. It is completely save.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she laughed quietly. “Still scary.” She took a breath and blew out her cheeks. “I’m alright.” The banker put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. From a carved tunnel off to the left came a blazing light at the face of a cart riding the rails nearly blinded Millie. 

What the hell am I looking at? she thought to herself as she watched it come to a stop at the platform. It didn’t sit on top of the rails like a train would, instead suspended between them and held in place by two pairs of wheels at each connection instead of one. She chuckled nervously when she saw two cushioned seats that were only connected by the body of the car from the back. Save for a little plate of metal where her feet would rest, the drop down was wide open. The whole contraption looked wholly unsafe and she immediately knew it was going to be both terrifying and maybe a little exciting. Definitely exciting, good or bad.

“After you,” the banker said, sweeping his hand. Fig mimicked the gesture to Millie and she bucked up enough nerve to clamber in the small velvet seat. She felt the sides for some sort of arm rest or safety belt but there was nothing. She giggled nervously and gripped the underside of the seat tightly. The goblin climbed up to a fifth seat that sat atop the railcar in front of a set of levers and switches. “Keep your hands inside the cart if you don’t wish to lose them.” He chuckled good-naturedly, but Millie exhaled slowly and clenched her jaw in anticipation.

“Millie?” Fig inquired.

“I’ll be fine,” she replied automatically. She flexed her fingers and peeked over the edge of her seat down into the darkness. “I hope,” she muttered to herself.

The goblin pushed a lever forward and the cart began to roll along the track through the tunnel. Within seconds it sped up much faster than she had expected and stole her breath along with it. She gripped the seat even tighter, but before her mind could even process the frightening rush, the tunnel opened up into a colossal system of caverns larger than anything she could have dreamt of in her own Muggle-influenced imagination. While the sight was utterly spectacular, the cart took a fast dive through a narrow archway, passing several rows of heavy metal doors. Towering stalagmites speckled the edges and floors of sections they passed, whipping by too fast for her to guess how tall they might be.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she whimpered when the track did a full corkscrew, yet the cart and therefor the seats remained level. Engineering, she thought briefly. Light flooded the caverns and Millie risked looking up to see a huge glass dome in the cave ceiling.

“We are now passing below the main lobby of Gringotts,” the goblin explained over the rushing wind. “The vaults you are now seeing are the newest. As you know, we are responsible for the safekeeping and guard of hundreds of vaults. Number twelve is one of the oldest.”

“Are private entrances to the bank common at Gringotts?” Fig asked, leaning casually in his seat in contrast to Millie’s stiffened stature.

“They are most uncommon . Only one with great wealth or power–or both–could have arranged for such a service.” He paused. Then, “You’ll want to take a breath.”

“A what ?” Millie blurted. Ahead on the track appeared streams of water that fell from a shelf of stone high above their heads. Millie just managed to hold her breath and spare a hand to cover her eyes as it splashed them roughly. The freezing cold forced the air from her lungs anyway and she gasped desperately against the chilling rushing air. The cart never even slowed and continued on. The water dried within seconds and Millie was left shivering slightly and flustered.

“That waterfall washes away all enchantments,” Fig quickly told her. “It’s a security measure.”

“Experienced the Thief’s Downfall before, have you?” the banker asked.

“Heard of it.”

“ Magic ,” Millie grumbled under her breath. True to the banker’s word, they passed what definitely had to be hundreds of similar looking doors set up in neat rows along the walls of the caves.

“These are the lower vaults we are passing now,” he told them.

“How deep are we going?” Millie risked asking.

“Vault number twelve was commissioned shortly after Gringotts was founded over four centuries ago. It resides in the deepest part of the bank.” He glanced back at her. “Settle in. We’ve quite a distance to go.”

Millie groaned quietly and took a deep breath, finally somewhat used to the way the rail dipped and wound through the caves. Her gut still wrenched every now and then but her grip on the seat was solid. Horrid planning, really, she mused to herself. All I want is a safety belt.

“How are you doing?” Fig asked her. Not wanting to add any more money to her cursing fund, she simply nodded, not even daring to move a hand to give a single thumbs up.

Eventually the goblin pulled a different lever and they began to slowly pull to a stop, to Millie’s immense relief. They slipped to a narrow, artificial tunnel, coming out alongside another grated metal platform on which stood a goblin in a decorated security uniform. Goosebumps rippled across Millie’s skin and she reached up to rub the back of her neck. The cart creaked to a stop and the guard gave them all a scrutinizing look.

“Vault number?” he drawled.

“Vault twelve,” the banker replied easily. “Momentous day!”

Millie’s heart leapt as her eyes caught on a glint of red. An armband the guard wore over his uniform glowed slightly. Transfixed, she watched it ebb and pulse slightly as random as smoke. Even from a distance, she could tell it felt the same as the ancient magic they had been seeing. Or rather, she had been seeing.

The guard swept his arm without any change in his stern, almost suspicious expression. “On your way,” he huffed. The banker nodded, pulled the lever, and they were off again, but Millie’s stomach twisted into knots for a different reason this time. She leaned over toward Fig.

“Professor!” she hissed.

He turned. “Hmm?”

“The armband that guard was wearing was glowing.”

He frowned slightly. “Like the glow you saw on the container?”

“Sort of. It felt different when I saw it, and it was red…darker, somehow. And before, the dragon was wearing a collar that looked the same.”

“What do you mean when you say it felt diff–”

“What was that?” the banker interrupted, probably thinking head missed a question asked.

“We were just wondering about that goblin back there,” Fig replied smoothly.

“He watches over the oldest section of the bank. Rare anyone goes there anymore.”

Millie closed her eyes for a moment. Let me see if I’ve got this right. Dragon with a glowing collar stalks us. Portkey takes us to the coast, which lead us to Gringotts Bank. Then a guard overlooking the most ancient vault has an armband that glows like the collar, and now we’re going to a vault of an unknown wizard to poke around for traces of ancient magic.

“Fantastic,” she hummed to herself, opening her eyes. Their whole situation was beginning to seem like one big elaborate setup, and she didn’t feel good about it at all.

Finally, finally, they rolled up to a stop at a particularly old looking platform. However, instead of a line of vault doors as they had seen on their way in, a large circular archway framed a single, massive metal door across a large circular stone floor. “Here we are,” the goblin announced. Millie jumped clear of the cart and onto the platform without waiting for any kind of permission. She bent over, leaning on her knees, and shot a scathing look at the infernal cart. Although unlikely, she would be perfectly content in her life never stepping foot on it again

Fig chuckled as he stepped on the platform and patted her shoulder. “It gets easier,” he told her.

“Yeah right,” she sighed back, straightening and combing her fingers through her windswept hair. She followed after Fig and the goblin.

“When was the last time this vault was accessed?” Fig asked.

“A goblin has been stationed at my desk for hundreds of years,” the banker explained. “In that time, no one has visited vault twelve. Well…until today.”

The capstone of the archway was carved with the number twelve. Stalagmites and stalactites had formed around it, doubtless from the “hundreds of years” of no visitors. The door beyond was old and dulled from time. The goblin strode right up and inserted the key. He turned it and took a step back. Parts of the door shifted and clanked together, and it swung open slowly. Dust fell from the top over the open doorway and powdered the floor.

The goblin turned to them, beaming with a satisfied look. “Vault twelve,” he presented with a bow.

“Thank you for your help, sir,” Millie spoke up, smiling as kindly as she could knowing he drove that damn cart. He gave a sharp-toothed grin in return and gave the key back to her. Fig stepped into the darkened vault and waved for her to follow. She hopped over the lip of the doorframe and looked around. To her great surprise, there were candles lit within the chamber already. It was obviously magic, but the eerie light it cast gave it the feel of a crypt. There were shelves carved right out of the stone walls that were almost big enough to slide a coffin in.

“Creepy,” she mused aloud, craning her neck to look up at the high ceiling. “What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?”

Fig frowned slightly and put his hands on his hips as he looked around. “I’m not entirely sure.” He turned to the banker still standing outside the vault. “Sir, I wonder if you might–”

The goblin held up a hand. “The instructions for vault twelve indicate that I am to grant access to the holder of the key, and then close the door.”

Millie’s heart dropped and her eyes widened. Fig reached out a hand. “Wait–!” But the goblin simply waved his own hand and the door slammed shut, every small mechanism looking back into place, and leaving them to the deathly silence of the empty bank vault.

Millie stared at the door, dumbfounded. Her set-up theory was gaining merit. “Oh, great, we went through all that just to get locked up on the inside of a vault. To die.” She huffed and paced back and forth a couple times. Fig sighed, staring at the door. “Professor?” 

He didn't respond right away, which didn't help her nerves at all. He resumed his stance from before, seemingly pondering the locked door. "That was certainly unexpected," he stated calmly. "Let me think…try casting Revealio and see what you can find."

"Yes, sir." She pulled out her wand and threw up a Hail Mary with her left hand just in case. She waved her wand in a wide arch. "Revealio." An icy cold sensation spread down her neck and she shuddered. She rubbed the spot and her shoe soles scraped against the stone as she spun around. Something fluttered on the wall at the far end. "What the hell?" she breathed as she slowly walked toward it. It rippled across the ordinary stone, revealing the blueish enchanted stone. Millie smirked. The symbol of ancient magic stretched across the wall and glowed that same calming blue.

"Find something?"

"I think so…" She drew the symbol in the air with the tip of her wand. "It's that symbol again, on the wall back here." She waved her wand again and the symbol pulsed brightly. Behind her, Fig gasped quietly. She turned. "You can see it now?"

He nodded. "I wonder what it stands for," he said. "A family crest or an organization perhaps?"

"I hope it means we won't die in this vault," she deadpanned.

"Always so melodramatic. But, if what you see reveals the way forward, then I daresay we are about to discover the secrets of the vault. Lead the way."

Millie held her breath and reached out, barely brushing the face of the symbol. It pulsed again and tiny glowing particles burst from it in swirling wonder. Then the glow faded quickly, taking the light from the candles as well, leaving them in a suffocating darkness. Cold dread trickled down her spine seemingly straight from her thoughts, but she quickly held up her wand. “Lumos.” She flinched against the sudden light but her eyes quickly adjusted before looking around. Next to her, Fig cast Lumos as well.

The first thing that caught her eye, quite literally, was the floor. The light reflected pointedly off the enchanted stone that now replaced the weathered old floors of the vault. The reflection was warped by its nature but Millie could see almost the whole of the her reflection save for the particulars of her features. Around them stood large pale columns that stood eerily amid the darkness, some of them barely visible through the shadow. Millie turned in all directions, but nothing indicated a path to follow.

“Professor?” she asked vaguely.

Fig hummed thoughtfully and held his wand aloft as he examined the closest column. “I suspect we’ll have to earn our way out of here,” he said as he turned back toward her. “Whatever the vault protects, clearly its original owner would like more proof of intuition past touching a magic symbol.”

“Earn? You believe it’s now become a test?”

He nodded firmly. “I do. But to what end I cannot say. Stay close. There will be no Disapparating if things go poorly–not out of Gringotts.”

“Outstanding,” Millie muttered quietly. She followed closely behind Fig as he said. She would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t scared. The wondrous excitement still overrode her nerves, but anyone in their right mind would at least hesitate when faced with such an impenetrable darkness.

More and more columns appeared, but they came upon no wall or dead end. Nothing that would indicate they in fact weren’t stuck in an endless room. They held their wands up to every column they passed, but there was nothing carved into them, not even a simple decoration. 

I hope these aren’t pillars of salt, she mused to herself. She would hate to accidentally turn around and be cursed by God himself to spend eternity in this room. She briefly felt for the capsule in her pocket and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the cool metal surface. As she looked down, however, she spotted a small orb of light shoot out from the darkness and disappear off to her left. Her shoe scuffed the floor as she stopped abruptly, catching Fig’s attention.

“What is it?”

She held her wand out and furrowed her brow. “M’not sure,” she mumbled, her feet carrying her forward on their own accord. That now-familiar tingle at the back of her neck made her shudder and she clapped her hand over the spot. Two more wisps of light snaked out from under her feet. With a flick of her wrist, she doused her light and followed them, and Fig followed her. With each step she took a new wisp would slip out from under her shoe and shoot off into the darkness. She couldn’t help but look at them and giggle quietly because of the way they moved.

“What do you see?” Fig asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, but she snapped it shut when she saw a flash of light off in the distance. “Uh…light,” she answered dumbly. She shook her head, grinning as she quickened her pace and came upon more enchanted stone, but this instance was odd. A watery substance gurgled right out of the floor, viscous and silver. She cocked her head as it rippled across the stone as she stepped closer. The wisps born of her footsteps disappeared down the middle of the fountain. 

Fig held his wand up higher as she walked a slow circle around it. “No doubt you’re already tired of me asking…but what do you see?” he asked.

She scoffed lightly and crouched down next to it, fighting the urge to reach out. “It’s acting like water, but it looks like metal. It’s sort of–” She gestured with a hand. “–moving up and down, bubbling.” She looked up at him. “Should I touch it?”

He raised a brow, then frowned slightly. She could plainly see he was wrestling with the frustration of not being able to see what she saw. “Use your wand,” he advised.

She nodded. “Good point.” Definitely a better idea than using her bare hand. She gently prodded the sloshing liquid with her wand. She flinched as she felt some kind of magic connect to someplace rooted deep within her. She gasped quietly and drew her wand up, and it suddenly burst with a force that shoved her down on her arse and sent her sliding across the floor. The glow and Fig’s wand light were both snuffed out.

Millie rolled on her stomach with a quiet groan, blowing her hair out of her face. She gasped and scrambled to sit up, looking at her hands. Her palms seemed to glow right beneath her skin, but it faded as she watched wide-eyed. She turned her hands and blinked hard. Ancient magic, she thought. It was clear she could see it where others couldn’t, but could she wield it as well? For a few seconds, she wondered if she had only imagined the sight.

“Lumos!” Fig stood a stone’s throw away, spinning quickly until he spotted her and hurried over. “Goodness, are you alright? What happened?” He held out a hand and helped her up.

“It felt like I got shoved, I think,” she huffed. She turned to look at the metallic gurgling, but it was gone. The light from Fig’s wand instead illuminated a large statue of a knight, kneeling and holding a sword point down. The glow slowly ebbed and moved around it evenly. But the issue was that it sat within the reflection of the floor. There was no physical statue to create its reflection. Nonetheless, there it was.

“It seems you’ve caused the floor to change,” Fig said, “and the columns are gone as well.” In place of the columns stood a ring of cold braziers. For a second she thought maybe Fig could see the statue, but he never actually looked at or acknowledged it.

“What about the statue, do you see that?” she asked bluntly, pointing at the floor.

“Pardon?”

“Shoulda guessed not,” she murmured. “I see a statue of an armored knight in the floor. She blew out her cheeks. How was she supposed to describe not only the sight but also the feeling of the magic only she could see? In desperation, she waved her wand at the reflection. “Revealio!” She sighed in relief when a real, tangible statue materialized out of thin air. The statue in reality mirrored the pose of the one within the floor.

“Godric’s heart,” Fig gasped quietly. He looked at her and tipped his head. “I presume this is what you saw reflected in the floor?”

“Yes, sir,” she grinned. “Lumos.” She flinched when the reflection suddenly moved, orienting its sword toward her. Fig moved around the physical statue as well, but the reflection only followed her light. Watching, she turned on the balls of her feet and took a few steps. The reflection was most definitely following only her. “Professor…the statue’s reflection is following my light.” She considered the physical statue for a moment before carefully circling around it until the reflection was lined up.

The statue rumbled and glowing blue cracks appeared in its armor. Stepping back, Millie’s heart started to race as it suddenly moved like a man, slowly standing up to its full height of well over two meters. She quickly tugged up her right sleeve and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The stone knight raised its massive sword and stabbed the point into the floor. White-blue flame erupted from the previously frigid braziers, and a thin veil of the same flame connected them all, effectively encircling and trapping them with the knight.

Something caught her senses and she cast up a protection spell just as the stone knight nearly decapitated her. The blade bounced off the purple shield with a spray of blue sparks and the knight staggered backwards.

“Millie!” Fig shouted as she jumped back and scowled. He rushed over to stand in front of her protectively. The knight righted itself and faced them. Four more stone knights suddenly dropped down from above and landed with thunderous impacts. Millie felt her hands go cold and she felt short of breath.

“Mary and Joseph,” she breathed, nonetheless standing her ground behind Fig and keeping her wand raised.

“Keep brave, Millie, and remember your lessons,” Fig told her. She swallowed dryly and nodded. He waved his wand sharply. "Accio!" Two of the knights were pulled off their feet and flew toward them. "Descendo!" A violent force smashed them against the ground and they shattered to pieces.

One stone knight tried to flank them. Millie held up her wand but easily wove out of the way of its swings. It thrust a riposte at her and pure instinct threw her hands out. A pale force rippled off her palms and collided with the attacking knight like a shotgun blast. Chips of stone flew off it and it staggered back, knocking into another knight. A sweat bloomed across Millie’s neck and she stared shakily at her hands like before. A strong pulling tension in her gut made her fear she might throw up, but she crammed her emotions back down and turned toward the remaining knights. The one she “shoved” had cracked in half when it fell, but its comrade grabbed its sword and started to get back up.

“Your training, Mills,” she muttered to herself, “remember it, dammit!” She waved her wand. “Protego!” A stone fist was stopped by her shield and the knight glared down at her. “Depulso!” It lurched backwards and tumbled right to the fiery barrier, turning to dust the second it passed through.

“Bombarda!” Fig shouted. The fifth and final stone knight exploded and Millie put her arms up as chunks of the glowing statue flew everywhere. She flinched away when something glanced her cheek. Another piece hit her right on the elbow and she yelped. Pain flamed from the joint and she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

“Bloody… shit! ” she hissed, staying mindful not to let Fig hear her curse. She shook out her arm and grimaced. “Damn…”

“Millie?”

“Yes?” She turned, but Fig was completely gone. The swirling fire disappeared and the braziers were snuffed out one by one until only two remained lit. A cold dread slipped into her veins as icy as winter wind across the Thames. Darkness surrounded her on all sides. Millie gripped her wand tightly and closed her eyes. Everything would be alright, she could handle being on her own. She had done it for years.

She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and strode forward confidently toward the lit braziers. She held up her wand. “Lumos.” She gasped and froze in place as the braziers were put out, leaving her wand tip as the only source of light. 

“ Oh… Blessed Saint Thomas, let me get through this,” she chuckled nervously. She took a single step forward and immediately saw an orb of light shoot off to be swallowed by the darkness beyond the light of her wand. She raised a brow and followed after them cautiously. She couldn’t help but wish she also had her knife she had packed away, for comfort at least if not for the same kind of protection her wand could get her.

“Can’t solve every problem like you used to,” she reminded herself quietly. “Crawling forward…” She scoffed at her own words. She turned in a circle. “Professor!?” she called. Her voice echoed into the abyss. “Professor Fig?” Dead silence. Millie quickened her pace until a dull glow came into view from the blackness. More of the metallic substance sloshed over the floor like a pipe had burst. She twirled her wand between her fingers and braced herself. "Nox."

Here we go again, she thought. A shiver shot down her spin when she pointed her wand at the pool. Let's do it. She dipped it in the gurgling center and this time drew a wide arch overhead. The spot burst with glowing light and it spread across the floor like ice, sizing out a similar area to before. The force pushed her back, her shoe soles scraping across the floor, but she managed to stay on her feet. She waved her arms to keep her balance and smirked.

She lit her wand again and waved it. "Revealio." Three kneeling knights appeared and their reflections pointed to her once again. There was one on her left, her right, and one right in front of her. She backed up a few steps until their reflections lined up with their physical counterparts. In unison, all three knights tapped their sword points to the floor and rose to their feet.

“ Oh God ,” she breathed. Exactly like before, a circle of braziers burst to life in the now familiar white-blue flames, trapping her. I’m meant to be here, she suddenly thought. She closed her open mouth and struck a fighting stance. She raised her wand and flicked her wrist, casting red bolts of magic to slow the statues. One rushed forward and she cast a shield. She instinctively thrust her free hand out, blasting the knight with the same force she summoned before. It recoiled up her shoulder and she stumbled back slightly.

“Arresto Momento!” One nearly slowed to a stop just as it began to raise its sword. “Depulso!” It lurched backwards and crashed to the ground. Its sword was flung high into the air and Millie barely hesitated to point her wand at it. “Accio!” It halted mid-air and turned to spiral at her but Millie swung her arm around and threw it at the third, untouched knight. It struck the statue in the chest, breaking its arm and head off, scattering the stone pieces. She stared at it incredulously. She had never summoned anything heavier than a cauldron before.

She quickly tucked away the accomplishment for now and kept her eyes on the two remaining knights. One raised its sword and the unarmed one charged her. Her vision narrowed and a hollow sound filled her ears as goosebumps rippled across her skin. Millie raised her wand high above her head and brought it down with a screeching shout. She had no spell in mind, but silver lightning ripped through the air and crashed into the armed knight with god–like thunder, exploding it into a shower of debris. The sound rocketed off the stone ceiling and wall and Millie’s ears rang painfully, but the force of it slammed into her like a wall, tossing her to the floor. Shadow stained with flashes of light clouded her vision and she dropped her wand. 

She gasped and coughed and rolled onto her stomach with a pained groan. Just a few feet from the fiery barrier, the final knight also rolled over. "Ohh… shit ," she wheezed. She clenched her jaw and the two got up in unison. “Alright, one more, one more! ” She grit her teeth together and rushed her final adversary and willed the strange magic within her to her hands. It burst from her palms in a transparent wave of bright blue and nearly threw her back a second time, but she managed to dig her heels in. The knight was pushed through the barrier and dissolved into dust before her eyes.

In mere seconds, the flames were extinguished, leaving her in complete pitch darkness. Millie sagged and stumbled to her knees, leaning on her arms. Her elbows shook. A thin layer of sweat was making her hair stick to the back of her neck. She felt carefully along the floor until her fingertips brushed against her wand. She grabbed it and got to her feet.

“Lumos.” Light illuminated her scuffed boots, and with one more deep breath, she took a deliberate step. Two small, smoking orbs of light shot out from under her feet. She hung her head momentarily and sighed. “Here we go again,” she muttered. She started walking.

Despite the darkness, her isolation, and the multiple brushes with death, a smirk tugged at her lips. She was having genuine fun. Every spell she cast shot adrenaline into her veins, accelerating her heart to a thunderous beat that was almost toe-tapping. Every step she took–although further into the unknown–cultivated her growing excitement. More wisps swirled around her feet and they eventually led to another dull glow where magic seeped from the reflective floor. Her light also spread beyond, over a hugely tall sculpture standing confidently amid the darkness. It looked exactly like the carving on the Portkey capsule, but three-dimensional.

She spared one long look at it before pointing her wand at the bubbling magic and drew a wide arch. Millie flinched as the swirling sculpture suddenly fell loosely to the ground like it had been magically suspended the whole time. It splashed and rose anew into a towering archway of intricate design. But instead of framing the darkness beyond as she expected, the archway showed her another room, one like they had first entered past the Gringotts vault. 

Slowly approaching, Millie hesitantly reached out with her hand. Her middle finger bumped against the archway first, and she rested her palm on it. The image rippled at her touch and felt cool against her skin. A circular dias presented a short basin in the middle of it. High circular columns stretched up to an unseen ceiling and braziers of piercingly white fire illuminated the room as a whole, though many parts still sat in darkness. 

“Wicked,” she murmured with a devilish grin. She tucked her wand away and placed her other hand on the flat visage. She grit her teeth and pushed. The resistance gave quickly and she stumbled through the archway with a yelp, barely saving herself from toppling to the floor. She snickered at herself. “Walk much, Mills?” she teased herself. She straightened and looked around the room. Besides the basin atop the dias, the chamber was devoid of furniture or anything that would suggest humans had done anything but build it and leave it untouched.

A large door at the other end of the room opened with a loud thud, Millie’s jaw dropped momentarily when it revealed the original vault room and a rather confused-looking Professor Fig. The second he saw her he called, “Millie!” and hurried to her. He grasped her shoulders and looked her up and down with wide, worried eyes. “Godric’s heart, Millie, where have you been? Are you alright?” He gently touched the scrape on her cheek and his question was answered when he accidently bumped her elbow and she winced.

“I’m alright,” she assured him. “And what do you mean where have I been, where have you been?”

“How do you mean?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “God, Fig, I had no idea where I was. I saw more of those wisps, and there was this huge statue that looked like the signet. And there were more of those stone knights and I had to fight them off, but something happened when I –”

“ Millie! ” Fig grabbed her arm to halt her reenactment and rambling. “Are you hurt?”

She looked down at her dusty, sweaty clothes. “No!” she laughed. “Fig–Professor–something happened!” She turned her palms up. “I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I could use this…this force . Like Depulso, but wandless, wordless.”

“A force?” Fig echoed. “By you?” She nodded eagerly. “What happened?”

“It happened earlier! You cast Depulso and I…panicked. One came around and I pushed.” She motioned her hands with her palms outward and shrugged. She looked at her arm. “Banged up my poor elbow pretty good, but I tried to do my best and remember my lessons. I cast Accio on one of their swords and it worked better than ever.”

Fig grinned and squeezed her shoulder. “Excellent, Millie! You’re certainly ready for Hogwarts, but…” He looked around the room. “Perhaps first we should find our way out of here.”

Millie looked at the basin and this time noticed something small and shiny floating just above the surface of the water. “I think that might help,” she said, pointing. “Though, I couldn’t imagine a reason for a basin to be in the middle of the room.”

They stepped onto the dias and approached the abnormality. The object that sat suspended above the bowl was a silver-clad crystal vial filled with a silvery substance. “This is no ordinary basin,” Fig told her. “It’s a Pensive, a device for viewing memories.” Millie looked at the dreary-looking water swirling within it. “What kind of memories? And…how?”

“Any memory, whether it’s a recollection of a simple joke amid a conversation or a life-changing event, all one must do is focus on said memory and…” He motioned to his temple with the tip of his wand. “–extract it.” He gestured to the vial. “Then they can be stored and viewed at others’ convenience.” 

He reached out, but his hand was stopped mere inches from it, blocked by an invisible force. Millie noticed a faint glow ripple where his hand made contact and instinctively reached out her own hand. "Maybe if I..." She carefully grabbed the vial unhindered. She brushed her thumb over the intricate design on the front. "F-Professor, I think..." She held out the vial to him. "I have this feeling...I'm meant to be here. I can't explain it, but I believe it."

He looked between her and the vial before taking it. "I suppose we'll find out eventually, but I suspect you might be right." He pulled out the stopper and tipped the contents out. Glimmering silver liquid poured out in a thin stream, and as it hit the Pensive it turned inky black beneath the surface. Fig looked up at Millie. “Follow my lead.” He braced his hands on the edge of the Pensive and proceeded to submerge his entire face in the water.

Millie couldn’t help the snort that escaped her and she dragged a hand down her own face. Sometimes the magical world still seemed ridiculous to her. Nevertheless, she copied him and took a deep breath before shoving her face at the Pensive. 

The water was cool to the touch and her vision swam in the dark tendrils of the memory. They congregated together and materialized the very room they were standing in. A neatly dressed elderly wizard with a long grey beard walked slowly along the dias, expertly waving his wand to conjure the towering stone pillars and ornately decorated archways, each born from a flash of ancient magic. A second man, shorter and more portly, approached the first with a look of apprehension.

“All is in place,” he told the older man as he tucked his wand away in his red velvet coat.

“The Portkey is well hidden?”

The second man winced and adjusted his hat. “Perhaps too well.” He looked around the finished room. “I wonder if the path we’ve created…”

“May be impossible to follow?” the bearded man finished. They both stood over the Pensive. “It will only be impossible for someone who cannot see traces of ancient magic as I can.”

“Your ability to see what others cannot will not be enough, Percival. We are entrusting the one who embarks on this path with powerful secrets–with knowledge others will do anything to obtain.”

Percival’s face turned grave. “Yes, and if we are correct, Charles, the witch or wizard who completes the trials will have proven themselves worthy of that knowledge…and the responsibility that accompanies it.”

The second man, Charles, gazed at the immense doorway decorated with the swirling symbol. “We’ve done all that we can.”

The bearded man looked down at the still waters of the Pensive, then puled out the crystal vial from his cloak. As he raised his wand tip to his temple, the entire memory was obscured by the waters of the Pensive and Millie jerked back, gasping. She stared at Fig across from her, stunned, a look which he returned.

“That’s what you’ve been seeing all along?” he asked. “That glow that surrounded them as that man–Percival–built the room?”

She nodded and smirked. “Y-yeah,” she scoffed.

Fig looked around the humongous room like Charles had done in the memory. “Astonishing! Miriam was right all along; you possess the ability to see active traces of ancient magic.”

Millie fidgeted, shifting on her feet. Her throat tightened and she forced herself to stand still. She had the sudden thought…was it possible her ability was somehow related to Miriam’s death? She had spent her life studying a magic she herself could never see, and now Millie found herself standing exactly where a stranger with the same ability as her clearly wanted her to be because of that ancient magic. The two men had talked of the burden of responsibility she now faced–

“Millie?”

“Huh?” She caught herself rubbing the back of her neck and noticed Fig now giving her a look of concern. “I’m fine,” she tried to affirm, but the words came out hoarse and she could already feel her face flushing red. “I’m not–”

“It all looks rather different than it did a moment ago.”

Millie and Fig turned toward the doorway that led to the vault.  “I think that’s the banker,” she said aloud.

“I don’t know, but– Sir, you shouldn’t be up here…”

The ornate doors opened and into the room stepped four goblins: the banker, the bank guard she had seen before, and two thuggish individuals. One led them confidently and wore heavy pauldrons of black metal worked to form the warped visage of wailing skeletal faces. His weathered face was set in an expert scowl directed at Millie and Fig.

“I was right,” the menacing goblin mused.

Drawing his wand, Fig stepped in front of Millie and nearly snarled at the goblin. “ Ranrok .” Millie drew her wand as well, but she doubted she looked intimidating at all. She still barely had a grasp on the Summoning Charm.

The goblin grinned, flashing his pointed teeth. “Seems my reputation precedes me,” he said to his companions to which they sneered and snickered, save for the banker, who stood aside with a nervous expression. Ranrok paced slowly. “I was 

beginning to think nobody was going to visit Rackham’s vault.”

Millie had read about Ranrok in the Daily Prophet similar to the one Mr. Osric had shown them, but she still struggled to understand the relationships wizards held with the likes of goblins or centaurs. It was obviously unstable, and she knew enough to figure Ranrok had little reservation for patience or discussion

“And why are you here?” Fig demanded.

Ranrok held up a gauntleted hand. “No need for that.” He turned his palm up. “Just give me whatever it is you found here and we can let bygones be bygones.” His scarlet eyes gleamed dangerously. Fig scowled back. Suddenly, the banker put a hand on Ranrok’s pauldron.

“Uh, sir… ” He spoke in a partly tentative tone. “ They had the key to the vault.” He chuckled nervously and withdrew his hand.

Ranrok’s jaw clenched tightly and he cocked his head toward the banker slowly. “Choose your next words carefully,” he warned him.

“I–I only meant that the instructions for the vault were quite clear.” He stood straight. “Sir, I must insist . I was to grant access only to the one with the key, and you didn’t–”

Ranrok jerked his hand up and the banker was abruptly lifted from the ground, suspended by opaque ribbons of magic that glowed red. He brought his hand down and the banker was slammed into the solid stone floor. There was a cacophony of snaps and cracks from his bones and accompanied by a spray of blood that made Millie gasp and clap a hand over her mouth, horrified. Fig put his arm out protectively and took a step back, shielding her.

The red glow faded from Ranrok’s armor. “I have no patience for traitors,” he grumbled. “Now, where were we?”

“I’m not giving you anything,” Fig shot back.

Ranrok shrugged, unperturbed. “Mmm, well…” He pointed. “–perhaps your young companion there will be more helpful.”

Millie gave him her best look of disgust but it turned to shock when Fig abruptly cast violent red lightning at Ranrok–but the goblin caught the magic in his armored hand. Millie’s jaw barely had time to drop as the magic condensed in his palm and he hurled it back at them. She threw her arms out but the force hit her like a train and threw them both backwards. She hit the wall bodily and the wind was knocked clean out of her. Her ears rang and her vision swam and shook. She coughed and pushed herself up to her knees. Red spots blinked behind her eyes, and when she reached up to touch her head, she almost didn’t see the blood on her fingers.

The room darkened around them. The swirling marble turned black as the void and the Pensive melted right into the floor, which began to roil and bubble. A gigantic metallic statue rose from it, holding a sword as tall as a lamppost. It was far bigger than the guardian knights she had fought before. The spaces between the plates of armor glowed and pulsed like the ancient flames in the braziers. It rose to its full, shadowing height and immediately swung its double-handed sword at the goblins.

Shaking her head straight, Millie saw Fig on the ground and she scrambled to help him up. She couldn’t help but watch the chaos unfolding too. The Defender stomped after Ranrok, who threw the warped magic channeled through his armor. The three goblins all coordinated a hit with their magic and the guardian stumbled back. Millie and Fig quickly moved out of the way and it crashed into the wall. The cavernous room shook and Millie almost lost her footing. She threw out her hand to catch the wall, and a shiver shot down her spine as soon as she touched it. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the archway she had come through had changed, now showing a woodland scene at night.

Better than nothing. “Professor!” she shouted just as Fig ducked away from the Defender’s sword. The glowing blade sliced through one of the decorated columns as the knight swung again. “Oh, shit! ” Debris rained down and Millie threw up a Shield Charm. “Fig, come on !” She waved her hand frantically and he rushed to her and grabbed her wrist. She focused all she had left to point with her shoulder and bash against the archway’s barrier. In the last second before it gave way, she looked up and saw the column falling right toward them.

Then, with an undignified yelp, Millie fell through with Fig right beside her. They tumbled to the ground and Millie’s ears rang once she realized the chaos had been replaced with silence. Or rather near silence. She could faintly hear bugs buzzing and chirping. She rolled on her back with a groan and was greeted by the night sky past the swaying branches of tall pine trees. She brushed her hand across the ground and felt their needles among the dirt.

The woods. They were in the woods. The archway had worked, thank God. Millie sat up and rolled her shoulders, already feeling the bruises that would probably begin to show on her skin tomorrow morning. Fig stood up and patted down his cloak and trousers. Millie got to her feet as well and looked down at her own dirtied clothes. Her coat had survived any damage, but her tie was stained, two buttons were missing from her shirt, and her pants were torn at the knee.

She noticed a singular lamppost at a crossroads providing their light. Two signs pointed down either path, but before she could get close enough to read them, something touched her hand, and she looked down and saw a drop of blood. She touched her forehead again. She was still bleeding from a cut just past her hairline and she could already feel a headache coming on. It dripped slowly along her jaw and down her neck.

Fig gasped the second he saw her. “Oh my goodness.” He turned her to face him and carefully looked at her injury. A drop of blood fell from her chin onto her shirt. “Are you alright? Godric’s heart…”

“I’ve had worse,” she joked lightheartedly. “I’ll be alright.”

“Millie Halasey, you are bleeding. ” His brows knit together tightly and he carefully brushed her hair away from the cut. She stood completely still, still floating down from the adrenaline high of whatever the hell had just happened.

“Professor, why can I see traces of ancient magic?” she couldn’t help but ask. “Why would someone go through all that trouble just to tell us they’re hiding a secret?”

He gave her a sympathetic look and took out his wand. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but it seems this Percival Rackham created it as a sort of test for someone with your abilities.” The wand tip glowed a soft blue and Millie’s headache abated. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I promise you we will uncover why you might now be targeted by Ranrok. Hopefully you can rest assured knowing that there is no safer place for you to be than Hogwarts.”

Millie checked her watch. “Yeah…I think we’re a little late for the Sorting Ceremony.”

He chuckled and waved his wand once more, and the blood flaked of her skin, leaving it clean. “Perhaps a little. I have no idea what I’m going to say to Professor Weasley.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ve never seen so powerful a goblin. He seemed wholly unaffected by my magic.” He looked over at the glowing lamppost and its signs. A slow grin spread across his face. “It can’t be…” He walked toward it and Millie followed.

“It seems those who set up the Pensive, the locket–and the path to both–wanted someone with your ability to end up here.” He nodded at her and waved a hand. “Come. We’ve a Sorting Ceremony to get to.”

Millie frowned as he set off down one of the paths. She looked up and read the sign. “Hogsmeade.” She smirked and fell in behind Fig with a pep in her step. Maybe they weren’t too late.