Recolitus Optimus: Part I
Title: Recolitus Optimus
Rating: PG / PG-13
Length: Two-Shot
Pairings: None
Era: Marauder Era
Summary: Who would have thought that a sleepless night would spawn an adventure that includes Dark magic, giants, Diagon Alley, secret societies, and ancient prophecies? Certainly not Sirius Black.
Awards: First Place in "Mini-Gauntlet Writing Challenge" on MNFF
~*~
Part I: It All Started with a Card
It was quite late - or early, depending on how one wanted to look at it - but he just was not tired. He had been lying in his bed for several hours, as a matter of fact, and had gained maybe two hours of sleep - total. Finally giving it up as a lost cause, he descended the stairs that connected the dormitories to the common room.
A light patter of raindrops could be heard tinkling off of the glass windows, and the previously blazing fire in the grate had since died; it was now only dim, flickering embers that did little to fight the slight chill that was in the air during this late autumn night. He glanced quickly around the common room, taking in the empty chairs and mostly-cleared tables. Good, no one’s awake, he thought to himself. The young man did not feel like talking to anyone, and was pleased to see that he wouldn’t have to worry about that problem. Apparently, everyone was sound asleep tonight at around a quarter to three. Like I should be, he thought.
Putting the thought out of his mind for the time being, he headed over towards one of the tables that he and his friends had been sitting at earlier that night. It was one of the only tables with books, parchment, quills, and ink still scattered across it. As he sat down in the chair closest to the window, he looked through the different essays that they had left behind before heading to the dormitory.
“‘Compare and Contrast the Goblin Rebellions of 1756 and 1877, with those of the Giant Wars of the 1820s,’” he said, reading the first essay’s title that he came across. Glancing at the essay itself, Sirius saw that it belonged to Remus. No surprise, he thought, his eyes following the detailed explanations that ran about eleven inches down the parchment. (They only had to write seven inches, but Remus was the only one of them who had actually found more to write; the rest had barely managed to ramble on for the required length.) Sirius set the essay aside and flipped through the other papers.
Titles of essays or books jumped out at him. There was Peter's ‘Why Muggles Need Electricity’ assignment for Muggle Studies, James’s Advanced Transfiguration: An In-Depth Text, and his own Potions book and homework, among other texts. Glancing through everything, though, Sirius saw that the only thing of Remus's was the History of Magic essay … But then again, Remus very rarely left his stuff just lying around the common room anyway.
After he had gone through the different things on the table, however, Sirius grew bored. He still wasn’t tired - and knew he wouldn’t fall asleep even if he did go and lay in his bed until morning. What to do, he thought, his eyes scanning the room for anything that another Gryffindor might have left out. He’d even read a textbook if he couldn’t find anything else. Fortunately, though, he didn’t have to resort to such ‘enlightening’ reading.
In one of the chairs by the dying fire sat someone’s copy of the newest issue of Quidditch Quarterly - a title that didn’t quite make sense, as the magazine came out monthly. Sitting down in the chair, Sirius picked up the issue and started flipping through the pages, reading the headlines in the search for something a bit more interesting than the numerous pages on Kanaye Kikuchi, a 57-year-old Japanese Keeper that was finally retiring from the game.
When he came to the middle of the issue, however, something fell into his lap. Picking it up, he found two different Chocolate Frog cards - neither of which he’d seen before. And they were as opposite from each other as possible.
One of the cards had a photograph of a blonde-haired woman in a light blue gown, her long hair curling down her back and framing her heart-shaped face. A giant smile split her lips as she looked up from the card, and her teeth could actually be considered to be sparkling. Sirius turned the card over to read just who the witch was:
Glenda Goodwich
1826 - 1917
Charms mistress of the nineteenth century, Glenda was well-known for her peace-spreading roles during many skirmishes between different Magical species. Goodwich was especially recognised for her pursuit of fair treatment towards “anything that breathed”, and Glenda specialised in the ancient workings of love-based magic and light-hearted charms.
The other card’s witch couldn’t have been more different from Glenda Goodwich. While Glenda seemed light-hearted, happy, and all-around nice, the same couldn’t be said for Ms Maleficent.
Melinda Maleficent
1799 - 1877
Regarded as one of the Darkest witches of the nineteenth century, Melinda Maleficent was well-known for her methods employed during the Great Blood Debates of the mid-1800s. Maleficent - herself a member of the conservative group: Recolitus Optimus - took matters into her own hands in arguing against the oncoming radicals seeking equality. She was backed by many leading powers, but was considered to go ‘too far’ when it was discovered that the Massacre of 1845 - whereupon 421 people (mostly those with ties to the radicals) were slaughtered in broad daylight - was her own making. Maleficent remained at large until late 1876; she was tried and found guilty for her crimes, though she died before any sentence could be carried out.
Melinda Maleficent’s darkness was evident in her photographic image - or at least, what could be clearly seen from her image. The dark, black background of the card seemed to cover up most of her form, all except what a sort of eerie candle-like light seemed to show. Straggly black hair hung around a gaunt, pale face, though Maleficent’s eyes burned with a passion that made their blue depths appear like blistering coldness. It was clear that her reputation was not fabricated, judging by her image on the card, at least.
Sirius looked at the two different cards in his hands for awhile. They both made different feelings run through the teen. Glenda could make anyone nauseous - She was just too happy, really, what with her wide, gleaming smile and glittering gown. Melinda, on the other hand, looked far too chilling for comfort. Death seemed to radiate from her card, and she seemed just like one who would love to hear the screams of little children. There was a Dementor-like quality about Maleficent as well. And for a moment, Sirius thought about what he’d read on the back of her card - the Great Blood Debates.
It’s not a lot unlike now, he thought, his eyes catching sight of a recent copy of the Daily Prophet that lay on a nearby table next to a copy of Witch Weekly. The headlines of the wizarding newspaper had been more ominous in the past few months than many recalled it ever being. Just the past day (the day that the paper was from, as a matter of fact), the front page held large black-and-white photographs of a flickering, serpentine formation in a night sky. It took readers until the sixth page before they hit any news that didn’t have a dark quality to it (and the issue was only ten pages long).
Yes, today is a lot like the Great Blood Debates, thought Sirius, glancing back at the gaunt-faced, black-haired woman. Definitely.
Time ticked by as Sirius stared at the card in his hand, seemingly entranced by the dark appearance of Melinda Maleficent. He had already read the details on the back of the card three times, but while he wanted to toss the card away - get the darkness away from him - there was something that stopped him. There was something about this particular card that was different … It seemed to touch a certain part of Sirius, like it felt a connection to a small bit of him that it didn’t want to separate from.
And so, he kept looking at the dark card, his fingers running over the photograph of the witch repeatedly, as if sensing that there was something there. That’s ridiculous, he thought, pulling his mind from such ideas. It’s just a card … There’s nothing hidden inside it.
But even as the denials floated through his mind, Sirius glanced down at his hands, specifically his thumb. There was a splotch of black on it, he noticed, and for a moment he thought he had gotten ink on it after reading through the different essays, and had only just noticed it. About to accept this explanation, Sirius went to wipe the spot off onto his shirt when he saw the image of Maleficent again.
Maleficent’s picture had blurred slightly; there was a smudge from the black background that ran across her body - like someone had run their hand through wet paint and smeared the image. Her blue eyes still held their cold, yet burning, glare as she fixed her stare onto him. And Sirius felt it again - that sense of searching, seeking out a connection to a part of him, like the eyes of Melinda weren’t just in the picture, but elsewhere -
No, he thought to himself, rubbing his own eyes. Maybe I do need sleep. As he lowered his hands, however, he caught sight of more black ink, this time also with an added tiny point of blue. Sirius glanced at his hands, then down to the card of Maleficent and back again, his mind trying to tell him that what he was starting to think was simply not possible. There’s no way, a part of him argued, but still, he reached down once again, placed a finger on the image, and ran it across before looking at both his hand and the card again.
Another black streak had appeared on Sirius's finger, with a matching faded image now seen on the photograph of Melinda. Odd, he thought, and a part of his mind spoke in a voice that sounded eerily like Lily when she was in Head Girl mode. “That shouldn’t be happening. Just put the card away.” But, like he generally tended to do, Sirius ignored the voice, his own curiosity getting the better of him as he sought to remove more of the paint from the image. Bringing his hand back down to the card, he ran a finger over the border of the image, seeing the paint smudge and smear as he traced the outside - and that’s when he felt it.
There was a yanking like a hook was being jerked behind his navel, and the common room started to swirl and blur before his eyes. He felt himself being pulled forwards, and he disappeared from his chair in the Gryffindor common room, one thought on his mind.
Oh, shit.
After a brief few seconds of swirling through nothingness, Sirius landed - hard - on smooth stone. Surprised by the sudden impact, he was unable to catch himself and stumbled and fell, barely managing to keep his head from slamming into the stone floor. Groaning, he picked himself up slowly from the ground, taking the first chance to look around at his surroundings.
Sirius had arrived in a long, dark, stone corridor. Walls of stone matching the floor surrounded him on both sides, but those at the corridor’s ends couldn’t be seen clearly. Tarnished brackets hung attached to the walls, dimly lit torches flickering as the flames struggled to give light to the setting. Sirius looked left and right, but no doors or windows were visible. Well, that’s just wonderful, he thought. Nothing could be heard, either; it seemed like Sirius was the only one in the corridor.
On an impulse, he glanced back down at the Chocolate Frog card that he still held in his hand, surprised that it hadn’t fallen out of his grasp when he fell. The image of Melinda Maleficent was completely untarnished, just like it had been when he’d first seen the card. The smears of paint were gone; nothing was smudged or damaged in any way. Sirius glanced at his own hands, but was surprised to see that the ink had disappeared from his fingers as well; there was no evidence that he had removed any paint from the card - neither on the card itself nor on his own hands. Curious, he ran his finger over the picture again, but when he removed it, Maleficent still remained the same - and his own hand was unblemished as well.
Great, he thought. Just great. Now where the hell am I? Sirius pocketed the card - though he wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t just toss it away - and headed down the corridor, hoping he’d come across some sort of doorway eventually … It couldn’t be a never-ending path of stone, could it?
But as he walked, Sirius started to feel a slight tingling inside, a feeling that was an odd mixture of cold and warmth. It raced through him, stirring something deep within the young man, and made him shiver. He recognised the feeling, knew it very well, as a matter of fact. And the knowledge that the feeling imparted was something that made him devoutly wish that he had his wand with him, rather than having left it up in the dormitory. Well, how was I supposed to know there’d be a damn Portkey in the common room?
The feeling grew stronger, more intense, and Sirius quickened his step without a truly conscious decision to do so. He had grown up around Dark magic, after all, and had a type of intuitive feeling towards it. All witches and wizards - Purebloods, Half-Bloods, and Muggle-Borns - could recognise certain types of magic - the basic recognition being that between the Dark and Light branches, but the longer one’s blood had magic ingrained in it (in other words, the purer one’s bloodline was), the more subtle a recognition or intuition towards a type of magic could be. And the Blacks had an ‘illustrious’ history of dealing with Dark magic, and the more exposure to a certain type of magic that one received, the more … connected, intuitive … towards it they were.
Finally, though, Sirius reached an ending to the corridor. He’d come across the first door in the place, at least, for, towering high in front of him, stood a massive wooden door, its colour light, and shadows were flickering across its surface. Right in front of his hand was the handle - a large silver doorknob that was engraved with a pattern of detailed vines, twirling in spiral formations. The door itself seemed rather plain, though, save for an image located in the very centre of the door … And it was this very image that made a chill run up Sirius's spine.
It was a giant circle, its outside border being formed by a twisting vine whose leaves seemed more like fiery flames than plant leaves. Stretching across the circle diagonally were two wands, crossing in the centre of the circle to form an ‘X’. Also located inside the circle was the image of a sword, running vertically through the centre and connecting with the wands. The sword’s blade pointed upwards, its tip touching the surrounding fiery vine. Finally, there was a serpentine dragon wrapping around the hilt of the sword, and the creature’s tail and head each touched one of the handles of the wands. Located at the top of the circle, running in an arc between the two wand tips, were three words:
Recolitus Optimus: Draco
Sirius had recognised the image upon first seeing it, and the words only confirmed his suspicion. He had first seen the symbol in one of the old books in his father’s library, stumbling across the tome one summer’s day. It had been a book detailing numerous orders and societies of the Wizarding World, both ancient and recent, the oldest going back to a long-forgotten empire in approximately 3600 BC, while the later entries were as recent as being founded in the 1960s. And Sirius clearly remembered this symbol, as it had been located near the centre of the book and had taken two full pages to show.
It was that of the ancient order of Recolitus Optimus, a society that had been founded around the year 1400 BC and carrying into the early 1900s, where it was believed that the members separated and the society was disbanded. Many rumours existed on what had occurred to cause such an ancient society to disappear, but the most prominent had to do with it becoming outlawed as the members grew more violent, exploring and experimenting with magic far more deadly than anything in known existence at the time. Several different branches existed in the order, all named after animals: Lupus, Ursus, Piscis, Noctua, Draco, Canis, and Cervus, (‘Wolf,’ ‘Bear,’ ‘Fish,’ ‘Owl,’ ‘Dragon,’ ‘Dog,’ and ‘Stag.’)
What was more, the Draco branch had suffered a major impact when one of its most prominent members was found guilty for her horrendous crimes in the Great Blood Debates and the orchestration of the Massacre of 1845.
Melinda Maleficent, it had been discovered after her death, had been one of the core and influential members of the Inner Circle of the Recolitus Optimus’s Branch of the Dragon.
And this building - wherever it was - had the society’s symbol.
The sight and recognition of the symbol caused Sirius to want to leave the building even quicker, though it still didn’t help him figure out precisely where he was. It had been believed, after all, that everything to do with Recolitus Optimus had been destroyed years ago, especially the Branch of the Dragon after Maleficent’s actions. However, somehow, this building was still in existence, and its appearance wasn’t completely tarnished - There had to have been some recent habitation or use of the building, and Sirius was not eager to run into the current (if there were any ‘current’) occupants, especially when he was wandless. A chilling, tingling feeling ran through him once again as the Dark magic seemed to swell.
I have to get out, he thought, cautiously reaching forwards and grasping the ornate door handle. His heart racing, he turned the handle … and exhaled a sigh of relief when the heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing a descending stone staircase that led towards what appeared to be outside; (at least, it looked like grass at the bottom of the steps). So, Sirius stepped through the doorway, feeling a rush of warm air hit him as he did so.
Yeah, it’s definitely outside. Once he had taken a few steps forwards, approaching the top stair, he heard a loud BANG come from behind him. Jerking around, Sirius saw the wooden door slam closed of its own accord.
“What the -” he muttered, and he jumped back towards the door, grasping the handle to turn it again.
But the twirling silver handle would not turn; it remained still, as did the door remained steadfastly shut. “All right,” he mumbled. “No going back in there … not that I would really want to.”
Sirius turned away from the door and continued down the stone staircase, finally reaching the bottom. Glancing down, he saw that he stood upon lush grass that felt quite … springy, he supposed. He looked around, hoping to catch some clue to where he might be - some mountain, river, or other natural landscape; some sign or building that gave any sort of information away. But there was nothing except the building at his back (of which he couldn’t enter) and a line of tall trees forming the edges of a forest in front of him.
“Well,” he said, glancing back once more at the wooden door above him, “just go forward, I guess.”
And so Sirius headed towards the trees, having only the light of a half-moon to rely on to help him see. He continued his journey once he reached the forest’s edge, finding a narrow dirt pathway to follow inside that appeared to run straight ahead. Even if the path didn’t run in a mostly straight direction, he was still bound to come across something somewhere at some point.
The forest seemed unnaturally quiet, in Sirius's opinion. It was nothing like the wilderness that surrounded Hogwarts, at least, where noises could always be heard coming from one of the many creatures that inhabited its depths, some as simple and harmless as birds and insects, while others could be as difficult as centaurs or as rare as unicorns … Or even a werewolf, dog, stag, and rat on occasion.
This forest, though, had none of that. One couldn’t even hear a scuttling of a harmless beetle or the hooting of a random owl. Even the ‘normal’ creatures weren’t present here, much less any of the rare and magical ones. It’s far too quiet, Sirius thought to himself. The tingling feeling of cold and warmth that he’d felt because of the Dark magic had dimmed mostly after leaving the building, and it continued to grow fainter the further he walked. But those feelings were being replaced by a heartbeat that was slowly growing quicker and a strong instinct that something wasn’t quite right in the forest. And not for the first time that night did Sirius regret not having his wand.
“From now on, I’m never leaving without it,” he muttered, swearing when a low tree branch scraped the exposed bit of his arm, scratching the skin and drawing a bit of blood. He shoved a few strands of his hair from his eyes, wiping some sweat from his face as he did so. It was quite warm in the forest, and all the walking was becoming exhausting.
“If this continues for too much longer, I’m transforming,” hissed Sirius. But the thought was cut short by the first sound that Sirius had heard since arriving: There was a loud, yet low, rumbling sound, like a massive creature was grunting and groaning or something. A few of the branches in the trees shook with the sudden disturbance. What the hell? thought Sirius, glancing all around him for whatever had made such an unpleasant noise.
But he could see nothing other than the trees that he’d been passing for awhile. A few seconds of silence passed before the grumbles were heard again. Curiosity battled with caution inside Sirius … However, the first won out as he continued on his path, wanting to now know where the noises were coming from. He didn’t have to walk very far to find out.
As he stood under the cover of trees on the opposite edge of the forest, his eyes widened as he caught sight of a trio of boulder- and mountain-like bodies all sitting together only a little ways in front of him. Giants. There just has to be giants here, he thought, barely suppressing his own growl of frustration.
Sirius watched the massive creatures as they sat, a roaring fire in the middle of their group. A few more grunts and grumbles issued from the giants, though none of the creatures moved. One of them gave a loud, rumbling grunt that seemed to shake the ground around them, and a few things flew from its mouth and towards the forest’s edge … towards Sirius. He ducked behind a particularly large tree trunk to avoid being hit by one of the objects, but when it landed on the ground in front of him, he stared at it in horror and disgust.
It was a crushed human skull.
“That isn’t good,” he hissed, and then felt like cursing himself for the stupidity of such a statement. Well, of course it isn’t good, thought Sirius, his eyes catching sight of a few more of the pieces that had flown over from the giant - all of which were bones.
“Damn,” he muttered, glancing back at the giants, one of which who had yanked a nearby tree from the ground and was running its trunk over the yellowing teeth, using it as a combination toothpick or toothbrush, as far as Sirius could tell. He looked to both sides of the group of giants, searching for another way to get from the forest to … well, he didn’t know to where, exactly, but somewhere else. Perhaps the forest would wrap around somewhere? That way he could stay in the cover of the trees.
When he saw, however, that the forest didn’t surround the giant camp, Sirius released the slight growl of frustration that had sought to get out earlier upon first discovering the giants. I have to cross a giants’ camp? And just how the hell is that supposed to happen?
Thoughts and ideas floated through Sirius's mind, but he was quickly disregarding most. One of the first - and the most simplest - to come to mind was Apparition, but the magic from the stone structure of the Branch of the Dragon of Recolitus Optimus still held a power over here; the Dark magic was suppressing any form of Apparition that might take place, as a slight tingling sensation through Sirius's body told him. Most of the other ideas were put down as impossible due to the lack of a wand.
Then it hit him, a solution so obvious that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it in the beginning. Looking towards the camp, Sirius's eyes followed an outer border of the area, seemingly set quite heavily in shadows. Yeah, he thought. This should work.
And, concentrating for the briefest of moments, Sirius transformed into Padfoot and stepped out from the trees’ cover, heading towards the line of shadows.
When he was safely on the opposite end of the giants’ camp - and under the cover of another area of forest, - Sirius left his Animagus form, releasing a sigh of relief as he did so. He looked back at the gathered giants that sat scattered all throughout the rocky clearing; there were far more than the three that he’d seen in the very beginning. Most were sitting like the first trio - around blazing fires and picking at their teeth, having apparently just finished digesting some unfortunate human or something.
But Sirius soon tore his attention from the creatures, knowing that he needed to figure out a) where he was (and he hoped that there was something on this side of the camp that gave him an idea) and b) how he was going to get back to Hogwarts. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping up on him. Now the sleep wants to come? he thought, frustrated. I wouldn’t even be here if I’d been able to sleep! A heavy yawn escaped the seventeen-year-old wizard, as if it wanted to emphasise the irony.
Sirius tried to ignore the exhaustion and the way that his eyes wanted to close shut. Several more yawns left him as he walked through this second set of trees - though it was much smaller than the first - and he soon emerged out of them. Finally, he thought, staring at the wide road in front of him that led to several buildings - a small town - (Next to a giant camp? Odd.) - but it was just what Sirius needed to solve the first part of his problem.
He had only taken one step towards the town when there was a vibrating feeling coming from his pocket. The suddenness of it surprised him at first, and several swear words slipped from his lips as he reached in to retrieve the object - Melinda Maleficent’s card.
The card was still vibrating and shaking heavily as he held it in his hands, but all Sirius could do was stare at it, completely lost. Never before had he come across a Chocolate Frog card that suddenly started shaking randomly. But neither have I ever come across a card whose image smudges, has an ingrained and hidden Portkey, and then instantly returns to normal. Why not add the idea that it vibrates randomly as well? he thought irritably.
And then, just as quickly as the vibrating had started, it ceased; the card of ‘one of the Darkest witches of the nineteenth century’ lay completely still in Sirius's hands. The image of Maleficent, however, had become far clearer than she had looked in the Gryffindor common room. While before she had been eerily hidden in shadows, only about halfway visible, now she appeared fully, and her features seemed to glow in the little light provided at night. Sirius just stared at her gaunt and pale features, her skin stretched tight over her face. Long locks of ebony-coloured hair framed the sides of her face, the strands falling at least to her waist. Her grim smile had an air of aristocracy to it, and her features could definitely be considered to have been thought beautiful at one time - She had the look of someone who, it could have been said, resembled the Roman and Greek statues of the ancient empires, what with her classically carved features and flawless structure. Maleficent’s icy blue eyes met his own piercingly - like she was more than just an image on a card, like Melinda was fully aware and alive somehow and was seeking to connect with him -
No! Sirius's mind rebuked the foolish notion, just as the crazy ideas had been turned away when he thought them in the common room. It wasn’t possible for a card to be ‘alive’; magic might have a lot of different branches, might be able to cause all kinds of things, but this wasn’t one of them. The image on the card was just that - an image, no different than a photograph or generic painting.
But as Sirius watched Melinda Maleficent become clearer, he also saw the other object that she held in front of her. It, too, became more pronounced, until it was located in the very centre of the image, every detail intense in the symbol on the glass. There was the circle made of fiery vines, the crossing wands that were intersected with an upright sword, the twirling dragon and the script-like words …
The symbol of the Branch of the Dragon for Recolitus Optimus.
As Sirius saw the image, a tingling and chilling feeling ran through him, much like the feeling he had when near large amounts of Dark magic … But it wasn’t exactly the same. There was something very slightly different about it, and it was just enough to cause him to reach out to touch the symbol on the card, rather than tossing the thing away from him.
Sirius's finger connected right in the centre of the gleaming symbol, and there was a giant flash of blue light that issued forth from the card, circling all around him. He couldn’t remove his hand from the card; it was held fast, and he suddenly felt like he was falling forwards - like the card was pulling him towards an unknown destination - (not exactly in the same way as a Portkey, but it was close enough).
And in an instant, Sirius Black was gone from the forest’s edge.
“Damn,” he said, almost falling to the ground again as he landed in a dark alley, rows of small shops and other buildings surrounding Sirius on either side. His hand scraped along the wall as he caught himself and, without looking at it again, Sirius shoved the card into his pocket. He was in the process of vowing never to look at the stupid thing again when he took in his surroundings … and a grin worked its way onto his face as he recognised where he was.
The cobblestones under his feet, the narrow streets and towering walls of the buildings, the hanging signs and enticing window displays …
It was Diagon Alley.
Glad that he now knew he was only moments away from finally returning to Hogwarts, Sirius turned down the street to head towards where the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was located with the sole intention of Flooing into Hogsmeade. But he had barely moved three steps before the voices of several people heading in his direction caused him to stop. He recognised some of them, and the voices did not belong to anyone he particularly wanted to meet in the dark, back areas of Diagon Alley, wandless and exhausted, in the middle of the night … Hell, he didn’t even want to deal with them in broad daylight after sleeping for a full night. Sirius glanced up, caught sight of several figures approaching, and ducked into the nearest shop, silently thanking the universe that the door was unlocked.
Once he was inside, Sirius looked around, curious as to what shop he had managed to enter. As his eyes roamed over the many towering shelves - placed so closely together that it caused the paths between them to be so narrow as to barely fit a single person - and all of the thin boxes that filled the shelves in their customary haphazard manner, Sirius knew. He was in Ollivander’s.
You would think a wand maker wouldn’t leave wands in an unlocked shop, Sirius thought to himself, creeping cautiously and quietly across the shop and towards the front door. A light layer of dust had started to settle on the numerous boxes of wands, evidently because they probably weren’t disturbed too often during the school terms themselves.
Sirius eventually reached the front of the shop (and had surprisingly not been caught by Mr Ollivander. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he would have told the older wizard if he had been, after all.) He had his hand on the doorknob to the shop’s main door, ready to exit and go back to Hogwarts, when something on a nearby shelf caught his eye. Curious, Sirius walked to the main window, next to which was the shelf in question.
Located on the simple wooden structure were four, nearly identical items - Chocolate Frog cards. Sirius glared at them, almost as if he wanted to set them on fire with his stare. After all, it had been a stupid Chocolate Frog card that had started everything he’d gone through that night. He was about to turn away from them and back to the door when the card on the far right caught his attention. For the briefest of moments, he could have sworn that the edges of the card actually glowed … as in, a thin bit of light rose from the card and into the air, before disappearing so suddenly that Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not. Whether or not he had, the young man still felt curious and, once again ignoring the voice in his head that said not to touch the card, Sirius picked it up, holding it around the edges so as not to touch the image itself. (Well, so he mostly ignored the voice of caution.)
The witch on the card shared a striking resemblance to Melinda Maleficent. She had long locks of black hair that fell in waves down her back, though her hair didn’t have the straggly and unhealthy look that Melinda’s had had. Her face had more colour to it, and her smile, rather than being grim and … well, dark … could be considered warm and welcoming, knowledgeable and understanding, almost. While Maleficent had appeared to have lost her beauty, this witch had retained it, her face almost glowing with youth. Sirius did not even have to read the name or information on the back of the card to know who the witch was, as portraits of her littered the walls of Hogwarts.
Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the legendary Founders of the school, stared out at him from the card’s depths, her light blue eyes swirling with wisdom. In her hands, she held a single object - a wand, its wood almost white in colour, with words and runes etched into its surface. The wand looked vaguely familiar to Sirius as he stared at it, entranced, and it only took a few moments for him to remember where he’d seen something like it before. But whether it was the same or not …
Sirius glanced towards the front window that always held the same display for the old wand shop - a singular wand holding a place of honour, almost, on a plush purple pillow. When he had first visited Diagon Alley years ago with his family, that particular wand had caught his eye. There had just appeared to be something about it, he thought, that made it different from other wands … like it held something more than any of the other wands in the shop (or any of the others that had been in the shop).
But when he looked at the window, he didn’t see the display. The entire window shelf was bare, save for an empty wand box and some torn paper. There was no sight of the purple pillow or the wand that sat atop it. That’s weird, he thought. After all, that single wand had always appeared like it’d been on the shelf since the beginning of Ollivander’s, and it just seemed like it would have always been there.
Sirius's thoughts were torn from the wand, however, when the card in his hand started to grow warm, sending a tingling feeling into his hand that raced up his arm as it did so. Not again, he thought, and he went to toss the card of Ravenclaw away … But it wouldn’t let him.
He couldn’t separate his hand from the card, and even as he watched it, feeling the power racing up his arm grow with each passing second, he saw the image start to move. It acted in a similar manner to how Maleficent’s had behaved as it struggled to become clearer. Except, that wasn’t exactly the same thing that was happening now.
Rowena Ravenclaw was waving the wand in her hand, her lips moving quickly as if chanting. Letters began to appear around the edges of her image, twisting and twirling over one another, scrambling themselves up. A thin mist seemed to swirl around Ravenclaw and the letters, and all Sirius could do was watch, transfixed, as the letters stopped moving, forming three separate words:
Recolitus Optimus: Noctua
Slowly, another symbol appeared to join Rowena on her card. Coming to rest in the very centre of the image was a detailed symbol almost exactly like that of the Branch of the Dragon, save for a few changes: There was no dragon here, but rather a pair of owls standing on each side of the sword’s blade, their eyes staring outwards, directly at Sirius, and the words that had arced along the top for the symbol of the Branch of the Dragon now arced along the bottom of the circle, ‘Recolitus Optimus’ on the left side of the sword’s hilt and ‘Noctua’ on the right.
It was the symbol for the Branch of the Owl.
~*~
That concludes the first part.
~Megan
Rating: PG / PG-13
Length: Two-Shot
Pairings: None
Era: Marauder Era
Summary: Who would have thought that a sleepless night would spawn an adventure that includes Dark magic, giants, Diagon Alley, secret societies, and ancient prophecies? Certainly not Sirius Black.
Awards: First Place in "Mini-Gauntlet Writing Challenge" on MNFF
~*~
Part I: It All Started with a Card
It was quite late - or early, depending on how one wanted to look at it - but he just was not tired. He had been lying in his bed for several hours, as a matter of fact, and had gained maybe two hours of sleep - total. Finally giving it up as a lost cause, he descended the stairs that connected the dormitories to the common room.
A light patter of raindrops could be heard tinkling off of the glass windows, and the previously blazing fire in the grate had since died; it was now only dim, flickering embers that did little to fight the slight chill that was in the air during this late autumn night. He glanced quickly around the common room, taking in the empty chairs and mostly-cleared tables. Good, no one’s awake, he thought to himself. The young man did not feel like talking to anyone, and was pleased to see that he wouldn’t have to worry about that problem. Apparently, everyone was sound asleep tonight at around a quarter to three. Like I should be, he thought.
Putting the thought out of his mind for the time being, he headed over towards one of the tables that he and his friends had been sitting at earlier that night. It was one of the only tables with books, parchment, quills, and ink still scattered across it. As he sat down in the chair closest to the window, he looked through the different essays that they had left behind before heading to the dormitory.
“‘Compare and Contrast the Goblin Rebellions of 1756 and 1877, with those of the Giant Wars of the 1820s,’” he said, reading the first essay’s title that he came across. Glancing at the essay itself, Sirius saw that it belonged to Remus. No surprise, he thought, his eyes following the detailed explanations that ran about eleven inches down the parchment. (They only had to write seven inches, but Remus was the only one of them who had actually found more to write; the rest had barely managed to ramble on for the required length.) Sirius set the essay aside and flipped through the other papers.
Titles of essays or books jumped out at him. There was Peter's ‘Why Muggles Need Electricity’ assignment for Muggle Studies, James’s Advanced Transfiguration: An In-Depth Text, and his own Potions book and homework, among other texts. Glancing through everything, though, Sirius saw that the only thing of Remus's was the History of Magic essay … But then again, Remus very rarely left his stuff just lying around the common room anyway.
After he had gone through the different things on the table, however, Sirius grew bored. He still wasn’t tired - and knew he wouldn’t fall asleep even if he did go and lay in his bed until morning. What to do, he thought, his eyes scanning the room for anything that another Gryffindor might have left out. He’d even read a textbook if he couldn’t find anything else. Fortunately, though, he didn’t have to resort to such ‘enlightening’ reading.
In one of the chairs by the dying fire sat someone’s copy of the newest issue of Quidditch Quarterly - a title that didn’t quite make sense, as the magazine came out monthly. Sitting down in the chair, Sirius picked up the issue and started flipping through the pages, reading the headlines in the search for something a bit more interesting than the numerous pages on Kanaye Kikuchi, a 57-year-old Japanese Keeper that was finally retiring from the game.
When he came to the middle of the issue, however, something fell into his lap. Picking it up, he found two different Chocolate Frog cards - neither of which he’d seen before. And they were as opposite from each other as possible.
One of the cards had a photograph of a blonde-haired woman in a light blue gown, her long hair curling down her back and framing her heart-shaped face. A giant smile split her lips as she looked up from the card, and her teeth could actually be considered to be sparkling. Sirius turned the card over to read just who the witch was:
Glenda Goodwich
1826 - 1917
Charms mistress of the nineteenth century, Glenda was well-known for her peace-spreading roles during many skirmishes between different Magical species. Goodwich was especially recognised for her pursuit of fair treatment towards “anything that breathed”, and Glenda specialised in the ancient workings of love-based magic and light-hearted charms.
The other card’s witch couldn’t have been more different from Glenda Goodwich. While Glenda seemed light-hearted, happy, and all-around nice, the same couldn’t be said for Ms Maleficent.
Melinda Maleficent
1799 - 1877
Regarded as one of the Darkest witches of the nineteenth century, Melinda Maleficent was well-known for her methods employed during the Great Blood Debates of the mid-1800s. Maleficent - herself a member of the conservative group: Recolitus Optimus - took matters into her own hands in arguing against the oncoming radicals seeking equality. She was backed by many leading powers, but was considered to go ‘too far’ when it was discovered that the Massacre of 1845 - whereupon 421 people (mostly those with ties to the radicals) were slaughtered in broad daylight - was her own making. Maleficent remained at large until late 1876; she was tried and found guilty for her crimes, though she died before any sentence could be carried out.
Melinda Maleficent’s darkness was evident in her photographic image - or at least, what could be clearly seen from her image. The dark, black background of the card seemed to cover up most of her form, all except what a sort of eerie candle-like light seemed to show. Straggly black hair hung around a gaunt, pale face, though Maleficent’s eyes burned with a passion that made their blue depths appear like blistering coldness. It was clear that her reputation was not fabricated, judging by her image on the card, at least.
Sirius looked at the two different cards in his hands for awhile. They both made different feelings run through the teen. Glenda could make anyone nauseous - She was just too happy, really, what with her wide, gleaming smile and glittering gown. Melinda, on the other hand, looked far too chilling for comfort. Death seemed to radiate from her card, and she seemed just like one who would love to hear the screams of little children. There was a Dementor-like quality about Maleficent as well. And for a moment, Sirius thought about what he’d read on the back of her card - the Great Blood Debates.
It’s not a lot unlike now, he thought, his eyes catching sight of a recent copy of the Daily Prophet that lay on a nearby table next to a copy of Witch Weekly. The headlines of the wizarding newspaper had been more ominous in the past few months than many recalled it ever being. Just the past day (the day that the paper was from, as a matter of fact), the front page held large black-and-white photographs of a flickering, serpentine formation in a night sky. It took readers until the sixth page before they hit any news that didn’t have a dark quality to it (and the issue was only ten pages long).
Yes, today is a lot like the Great Blood Debates, thought Sirius, glancing back at the gaunt-faced, black-haired woman. Definitely.
Time ticked by as Sirius stared at the card in his hand, seemingly entranced by the dark appearance of Melinda Maleficent. He had already read the details on the back of the card three times, but while he wanted to toss the card away - get the darkness away from him - there was something that stopped him. There was something about this particular card that was different … It seemed to touch a certain part of Sirius, like it felt a connection to a small bit of him that it didn’t want to separate from.
And so, he kept looking at the dark card, his fingers running over the photograph of the witch repeatedly, as if sensing that there was something there. That’s ridiculous, he thought, pulling his mind from such ideas. It’s just a card … There’s nothing hidden inside it.
But even as the denials floated through his mind, Sirius glanced down at his hands, specifically his thumb. There was a splotch of black on it, he noticed, and for a moment he thought he had gotten ink on it after reading through the different essays, and had only just noticed it. About to accept this explanation, Sirius went to wipe the spot off onto his shirt when he saw the image of Maleficent again.
Maleficent’s picture had blurred slightly; there was a smudge from the black background that ran across her body - like someone had run their hand through wet paint and smeared the image. Her blue eyes still held their cold, yet burning, glare as she fixed her stare onto him. And Sirius felt it again - that sense of searching, seeking out a connection to a part of him, like the eyes of Melinda weren’t just in the picture, but elsewhere -
No, he thought to himself, rubbing his own eyes. Maybe I do need sleep. As he lowered his hands, however, he caught sight of more black ink, this time also with an added tiny point of blue. Sirius glanced at his hands, then down to the card of Maleficent and back again, his mind trying to tell him that what he was starting to think was simply not possible. There’s no way, a part of him argued, but still, he reached down once again, placed a finger on the image, and ran it across before looking at both his hand and the card again.
Another black streak had appeared on Sirius's finger, with a matching faded image now seen on the photograph of Melinda. Odd, he thought, and a part of his mind spoke in a voice that sounded eerily like Lily when she was in Head Girl mode. “That shouldn’t be happening. Just put the card away.” But, like he generally tended to do, Sirius ignored the voice, his own curiosity getting the better of him as he sought to remove more of the paint from the image. Bringing his hand back down to the card, he ran a finger over the border of the image, seeing the paint smudge and smear as he traced the outside - and that’s when he felt it.
There was a yanking like a hook was being jerked behind his navel, and the common room started to swirl and blur before his eyes. He felt himself being pulled forwards, and he disappeared from his chair in the Gryffindor common room, one thought on his mind.
Oh, shit.
After a brief few seconds of swirling through nothingness, Sirius landed - hard - on smooth stone. Surprised by the sudden impact, he was unable to catch himself and stumbled and fell, barely managing to keep his head from slamming into the stone floor. Groaning, he picked himself up slowly from the ground, taking the first chance to look around at his surroundings.
Sirius had arrived in a long, dark, stone corridor. Walls of stone matching the floor surrounded him on both sides, but those at the corridor’s ends couldn’t be seen clearly. Tarnished brackets hung attached to the walls, dimly lit torches flickering as the flames struggled to give light to the setting. Sirius looked left and right, but no doors or windows were visible. Well, that’s just wonderful, he thought. Nothing could be heard, either; it seemed like Sirius was the only one in the corridor.
On an impulse, he glanced back down at the Chocolate Frog card that he still held in his hand, surprised that it hadn’t fallen out of his grasp when he fell. The image of Melinda Maleficent was completely untarnished, just like it had been when he’d first seen the card. The smears of paint were gone; nothing was smudged or damaged in any way. Sirius glanced at his own hands, but was surprised to see that the ink had disappeared from his fingers as well; there was no evidence that he had removed any paint from the card - neither on the card itself nor on his own hands. Curious, he ran his finger over the picture again, but when he removed it, Maleficent still remained the same - and his own hand was unblemished as well.
Great, he thought. Just great. Now where the hell am I? Sirius pocketed the card - though he wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t just toss it away - and headed down the corridor, hoping he’d come across some sort of doorway eventually … It couldn’t be a never-ending path of stone, could it?
But as he walked, Sirius started to feel a slight tingling inside, a feeling that was an odd mixture of cold and warmth. It raced through him, stirring something deep within the young man, and made him shiver. He recognised the feeling, knew it very well, as a matter of fact. And the knowledge that the feeling imparted was something that made him devoutly wish that he had his wand with him, rather than having left it up in the dormitory. Well, how was I supposed to know there’d be a damn Portkey in the common room?
The feeling grew stronger, more intense, and Sirius quickened his step without a truly conscious decision to do so. He had grown up around Dark magic, after all, and had a type of intuitive feeling towards it. All witches and wizards - Purebloods, Half-Bloods, and Muggle-Borns - could recognise certain types of magic - the basic recognition being that between the Dark and Light branches, but the longer one’s blood had magic ingrained in it (in other words, the purer one’s bloodline was), the more subtle a recognition or intuition towards a type of magic could be. And the Blacks had an ‘illustrious’ history of dealing with Dark magic, and the more exposure to a certain type of magic that one received, the more … connected, intuitive … towards it they were.
Finally, though, Sirius reached an ending to the corridor. He’d come across the first door in the place, at least, for, towering high in front of him, stood a massive wooden door, its colour light, and shadows were flickering across its surface. Right in front of his hand was the handle - a large silver doorknob that was engraved with a pattern of detailed vines, twirling in spiral formations. The door itself seemed rather plain, though, save for an image located in the very centre of the door … And it was this very image that made a chill run up Sirius's spine.
It was a giant circle, its outside border being formed by a twisting vine whose leaves seemed more like fiery flames than plant leaves. Stretching across the circle diagonally were two wands, crossing in the centre of the circle to form an ‘X’. Also located inside the circle was the image of a sword, running vertically through the centre and connecting with the wands. The sword’s blade pointed upwards, its tip touching the surrounding fiery vine. Finally, there was a serpentine dragon wrapping around the hilt of the sword, and the creature’s tail and head each touched one of the handles of the wands. Located at the top of the circle, running in an arc between the two wand tips, were three words:
Recolitus Optimus: Draco
Sirius had recognised the image upon first seeing it, and the words only confirmed his suspicion. He had first seen the symbol in one of the old books in his father’s library, stumbling across the tome one summer’s day. It had been a book detailing numerous orders and societies of the Wizarding World, both ancient and recent, the oldest going back to a long-forgotten empire in approximately 3600 BC, while the later entries were as recent as being founded in the 1960s. And Sirius clearly remembered this symbol, as it had been located near the centre of the book and had taken two full pages to show.
It was that of the ancient order of Recolitus Optimus, a society that had been founded around the year 1400 BC and carrying into the early 1900s, where it was believed that the members separated and the society was disbanded. Many rumours existed on what had occurred to cause such an ancient society to disappear, but the most prominent had to do with it becoming outlawed as the members grew more violent, exploring and experimenting with magic far more deadly than anything in known existence at the time. Several different branches existed in the order, all named after animals: Lupus, Ursus, Piscis, Noctua, Draco, Canis, and Cervus, (‘Wolf,’ ‘Bear,’ ‘Fish,’ ‘Owl,’ ‘Dragon,’ ‘Dog,’ and ‘Stag.’)
What was more, the Draco branch had suffered a major impact when one of its most prominent members was found guilty for her horrendous crimes in the Great Blood Debates and the orchestration of the Massacre of 1845.
Melinda Maleficent, it had been discovered after her death, had been one of the core and influential members of the Inner Circle of the Recolitus Optimus’s Branch of the Dragon.
And this building - wherever it was - had the society’s symbol.
The sight and recognition of the symbol caused Sirius to want to leave the building even quicker, though it still didn’t help him figure out precisely where he was. It had been believed, after all, that everything to do with Recolitus Optimus had been destroyed years ago, especially the Branch of the Dragon after Maleficent’s actions. However, somehow, this building was still in existence, and its appearance wasn’t completely tarnished - There had to have been some recent habitation or use of the building, and Sirius was not eager to run into the current (if there were any ‘current’) occupants, especially when he was wandless. A chilling, tingling feeling ran through him once again as the Dark magic seemed to swell.
I have to get out, he thought, cautiously reaching forwards and grasping the ornate door handle. His heart racing, he turned the handle … and exhaled a sigh of relief when the heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing a descending stone staircase that led towards what appeared to be outside; (at least, it looked like grass at the bottom of the steps). So, Sirius stepped through the doorway, feeling a rush of warm air hit him as he did so.
Yeah, it’s definitely outside. Once he had taken a few steps forwards, approaching the top stair, he heard a loud BANG come from behind him. Jerking around, Sirius saw the wooden door slam closed of its own accord.
“What the -” he muttered, and he jumped back towards the door, grasping the handle to turn it again.
But the twirling silver handle would not turn; it remained still, as did the door remained steadfastly shut. “All right,” he mumbled. “No going back in there … not that I would really want to.”
Sirius turned away from the door and continued down the stone staircase, finally reaching the bottom. Glancing down, he saw that he stood upon lush grass that felt quite … springy, he supposed. He looked around, hoping to catch some clue to where he might be - some mountain, river, or other natural landscape; some sign or building that gave any sort of information away. But there was nothing except the building at his back (of which he couldn’t enter) and a line of tall trees forming the edges of a forest in front of him.
“Well,” he said, glancing back once more at the wooden door above him, “just go forward, I guess.”
And so Sirius headed towards the trees, having only the light of a half-moon to rely on to help him see. He continued his journey once he reached the forest’s edge, finding a narrow dirt pathway to follow inside that appeared to run straight ahead. Even if the path didn’t run in a mostly straight direction, he was still bound to come across something somewhere at some point.
The forest seemed unnaturally quiet, in Sirius's opinion. It was nothing like the wilderness that surrounded Hogwarts, at least, where noises could always be heard coming from one of the many creatures that inhabited its depths, some as simple and harmless as birds and insects, while others could be as difficult as centaurs or as rare as unicorns … Or even a werewolf, dog, stag, and rat on occasion.
This forest, though, had none of that. One couldn’t even hear a scuttling of a harmless beetle or the hooting of a random owl. Even the ‘normal’ creatures weren’t present here, much less any of the rare and magical ones. It’s far too quiet, Sirius thought to himself. The tingling feeling of cold and warmth that he’d felt because of the Dark magic had dimmed mostly after leaving the building, and it continued to grow fainter the further he walked. But those feelings were being replaced by a heartbeat that was slowly growing quicker and a strong instinct that something wasn’t quite right in the forest. And not for the first time that night did Sirius regret not having his wand.
“From now on, I’m never leaving without it,” he muttered, swearing when a low tree branch scraped the exposed bit of his arm, scratching the skin and drawing a bit of blood. He shoved a few strands of his hair from his eyes, wiping some sweat from his face as he did so. It was quite warm in the forest, and all the walking was becoming exhausting.
“If this continues for too much longer, I’m transforming,” hissed Sirius. But the thought was cut short by the first sound that Sirius had heard since arriving: There was a loud, yet low, rumbling sound, like a massive creature was grunting and groaning or something. A few of the branches in the trees shook with the sudden disturbance. What the hell? thought Sirius, glancing all around him for whatever had made such an unpleasant noise.
But he could see nothing other than the trees that he’d been passing for awhile. A few seconds of silence passed before the grumbles were heard again. Curiosity battled with caution inside Sirius … However, the first won out as he continued on his path, wanting to now know where the noises were coming from. He didn’t have to walk very far to find out.
As he stood under the cover of trees on the opposite edge of the forest, his eyes widened as he caught sight of a trio of boulder- and mountain-like bodies all sitting together only a little ways in front of him. Giants. There just has to be giants here, he thought, barely suppressing his own growl of frustration.
Sirius watched the massive creatures as they sat, a roaring fire in the middle of their group. A few more grunts and grumbles issued from the giants, though none of the creatures moved. One of them gave a loud, rumbling grunt that seemed to shake the ground around them, and a few things flew from its mouth and towards the forest’s edge … towards Sirius. He ducked behind a particularly large tree trunk to avoid being hit by one of the objects, but when it landed on the ground in front of him, he stared at it in horror and disgust.
It was a crushed human skull.
“That isn’t good,” he hissed, and then felt like cursing himself for the stupidity of such a statement. Well, of course it isn’t good, thought Sirius, his eyes catching sight of a few more of the pieces that had flown over from the giant - all of which were bones.
“Damn,” he muttered, glancing back at the giants, one of which who had yanked a nearby tree from the ground and was running its trunk over the yellowing teeth, using it as a combination toothpick or toothbrush, as far as Sirius could tell. He looked to both sides of the group of giants, searching for another way to get from the forest to … well, he didn’t know to where, exactly, but somewhere else. Perhaps the forest would wrap around somewhere? That way he could stay in the cover of the trees.
When he saw, however, that the forest didn’t surround the giant camp, Sirius released the slight growl of frustration that had sought to get out earlier upon first discovering the giants. I have to cross a giants’ camp? And just how the hell is that supposed to happen?
Thoughts and ideas floated through Sirius's mind, but he was quickly disregarding most. One of the first - and the most simplest - to come to mind was Apparition, but the magic from the stone structure of the Branch of the Dragon of Recolitus Optimus still held a power over here; the Dark magic was suppressing any form of Apparition that might take place, as a slight tingling sensation through Sirius's body told him. Most of the other ideas were put down as impossible due to the lack of a wand.
Then it hit him, a solution so obvious that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it in the beginning. Looking towards the camp, Sirius's eyes followed an outer border of the area, seemingly set quite heavily in shadows. Yeah, he thought. This should work.
And, concentrating for the briefest of moments, Sirius transformed into Padfoot and stepped out from the trees’ cover, heading towards the line of shadows.
When he was safely on the opposite end of the giants’ camp - and under the cover of another area of forest, - Sirius left his Animagus form, releasing a sigh of relief as he did so. He looked back at the gathered giants that sat scattered all throughout the rocky clearing; there were far more than the three that he’d seen in the very beginning. Most were sitting like the first trio - around blazing fires and picking at their teeth, having apparently just finished digesting some unfortunate human or something.
But Sirius soon tore his attention from the creatures, knowing that he needed to figure out a) where he was (and he hoped that there was something on this side of the camp that gave him an idea) and b) how he was going to get back to Hogwarts. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping up on him. Now the sleep wants to come? he thought, frustrated. I wouldn’t even be here if I’d been able to sleep! A heavy yawn escaped the seventeen-year-old wizard, as if it wanted to emphasise the irony.
Sirius tried to ignore the exhaustion and the way that his eyes wanted to close shut. Several more yawns left him as he walked through this second set of trees - though it was much smaller than the first - and he soon emerged out of them. Finally, he thought, staring at the wide road in front of him that led to several buildings - a small town - (Next to a giant camp? Odd.) - but it was just what Sirius needed to solve the first part of his problem.
He had only taken one step towards the town when there was a vibrating feeling coming from his pocket. The suddenness of it surprised him at first, and several swear words slipped from his lips as he reached in to retrieve the object - Melinda Maleficent’s card.
The card was still vibrating and shaking heavily as he held it in his hands, but all Sirius could do was stare at it, completely lost. Never before had he come across a Chocolate Frog card that suddenly started shaking randomly. But neither have I ever come across a card whose image smudges, has an ingrained and hidden Portkey, and then instantly returns to normal. Why not add the idea that it vibrates randomly as well? he thought irritably.
And then, just as quickly as the vibrating had started, it ceased; the card of ‘one of the Darkest witches of the nineteenth century’ lay completely still in Sirius's hands. The image of Maleficent, however, had become far clearer than she had looked in the Gryffindor common room. While before she had been eerily hidden in shadows, only about halfway visible, now she appeared fully, and her features seemed to glow in the little light provided at night. Sirius just stared at her gaunt and pale features, her skin stretched tight over her face. Long locks of ebony-coloured hair framed the sides of her face, the strands falling at least to her waist. Her grim smile had an air of aristocracy to it, and her features could definitely be considered to have been thought beautiful at one time - She had the look of someone who, it could have been said, resembled the Roman and Greek statues of the ancient empires, what with her classically carved features and flawless structure. Maleficent’s icy blue eyes met his own piercingly - like she was more than just an image on a card, like Melinda was fully aware and alive somehow and was seeking to connect with him -
No! Sirius's mind rebuked the foolish notion, just as the crazy ideas had been turned away when he thought them in the common room. It wasn’t possible for a card to be ‘alive’; magic might have a lot of different branches, might be able to cause all kinds of things, but this wasn’t one of them. The image on the card was just that - an image, no different than a photograph or generic painting.
But as Sirius watched Melinda Maleficent become clearer, he also saw the other object that she held in front of her. It, too, became more pronounced, until it was located in the very centre of the image, every detail intense in the symbol on the glass. There was the circle made of fiery vines, the crossing wands that were intersected with an upright sword, the twirling dragon and the script-like words …
The symbol of the Branch of the Dragon for Recolitus Optimus.
As Sirius saw the image, a tingling and chilling feeling ran through him, much like the feeling he had when near large amounts of Dark magic … But it wasn’t exactly the same. There was something very slightly different about it, and it was just enough to cause him to reach out to touch the symbol on the card, rather than tossing the thing away from him.
Sirius's finger connected right in the centre of the gleaming symbol, and there was a giant flash of blue light that issued forth from the card, circling all around him. He couldn’t remove his hand from the card; it was held fast, and he suddenly felt like he was falling forwards - like the card was pulling him towards an unknown destination - (not exactly in the same way as a Portkey, but it was close enough).
And in an instant, Sirius Black was gone from the forest’s edge.
“Damn,” he said, almost falling to the ground again as he landed in a dark alley, rows of small shops and other buildings surrounding Sirius on either side. His hand scraped along the wall as he caught himself and, without looking at it again, Sirius shoved the card into his pocket. He was in the process of vowing never to look at the stupid thing again when he took in his surroundings … and a grin worked its way onto his face as he recognised where he was.
The cobblestones under his feet, the narrow streets and towering walls of the buildings, the hanging signs and enticing window displays …
It was Diagon Alley.
Glad that he now knew he was only moments away from finally returning to Hogwarts, Sirius turned down the street to head towards where the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was located with the sole intention of Flooing into Hogsmeade. But he had barely moved three steps before the voices of several people heading in his direction caused him to stop. He recognised some of them, and the voices did not belong to anyone he particularly wanted to meet in the dark, back areas of Diagon Alley, wandless and exhausted, in the middle of the night … Hell, he didn’t even want to deal with them in broad daylight after sleeping for a full night. Sirius glanced up, caught sight of several figures approaching, and ducked into the nearest shop, silently thanking the universe that the door was unlocked.
Once he was inside, Sirius looked around, curious as to what shop he had managed to enter. As his eyes roamed over the many towering shelves - placed so closely together that it caused the paths between them to be so narrow as to barely fit a single person - and all of the thin boxes that filled the shelves in their customary haphazard manner, Sirius knew. He was in Ollivander’s.
You would think a wand maker wouldn’t leave wands in an unlocked shop, Sirius thought to himself, creeping cautiously and quietly across the shop and towards the front door. A light layer of dust had started to settle on the numerous boxes of wands, evidently because they probably weren’t disturbed too often during the school terms themselves.
Sirius eventually reached the front of the shop (and had surprisingly not been caught by Mr Ollivander. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he would have told the older wizard if he had been, after all.) He had his hand on the doorknob to the shop’s main door, ready to exit and go back to Hogwarts, when something on a nearby shelf caught his eye. Curious, Sirius walked to the main window, next to which was the shelf in question.
Located on the simple wooden structure were four, nearly identical items - Chocolate Frog cards. Sirius glared at them, almost as if he wanted to set them on fire with his stare. After all, it had been a stupid Chocolate Frog card that had started everything he’d gone through that night. He was about to turn away from them and back to the door when the card on the far right caught his attention. For the briefest of moments, he could have sworn that the edges of the card actually glowed … as in, a thin bit of light rose from the card and into the air, before disappearing so suddenly that Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not. Whether or not he had, the young man still felt curious and, once again ignoring the voice in his head that said not to touch the card, Sirius picked it up, holding it around the edges so as not to touch the image itself. (Well, so he mostly ignored the voice of caution.)
The witch on the card shared a striking resemblance to Melinda Maleficent. She had long locks of black hair that fell in waves down her back, though her hair didn’t have the straggly and unhealthy look that Melinda’s had had. Her face had more colour to it, and her smile, rather than being grim and … well, dark … could be considered warm and welcoming, knowledgeable and understanding, almost. While Maleficent had appeared to have lost her beauty, this witch had retained it, her face almost glowing with youth. Sirius did not even have to read the name or information on the back of the card to know who the witch was, as portraits of her littered the walls of Hogwarts.
Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the legendary Founders of the school, stared out at him from the card’s depths, her light blue eyes swirling with wisdom. In her hands, she held a single object - a wand, its wood almost white in colour, with words and runes etched into its surface. The wand looked vaguely familiar to Sirius as he stared at it, entranced, and it only took a few moments for him to remember where he’d seen something like it before. But whether it was the same or not …
Sirius glanced towards the front window that always held the same display for the old wand shop - a singular wand holding a place of honour, almost, on a plush purple pillow. When he had first visited Diagon Alley years ago with his family, that particular wand had caught his eye. There had just appeared to be something about it, he thought, that made it different from other wands … like it held something more than any of the other wands in the shop (or any of the others that had been in the shop).
But when he looked at the window, he didn’t see the display. The entire window shelf was bare, save for an empty wand box and some torn paper. There was no sight of the purple pillow or the wand that sat atop it. That’s weird, he thought. After all, that single wand had always appeared like it’d been on the shelf since the beginning of Ollivander’s, and it just seemed like it would have always been there.
Sirius's thoughts were torn from the wand, however, when the card in his hand started to grow warm, sending a tingling feeling into his hand that raced up his arm as it did so. Not again, he thought, and he went to toss the card of Ravenclaw away … But it wouldn’t let him.
He couldn’t separate his hand from the card, and even as he watched it, feeling the power racing up his arm grow with each passing second, he saw the image start to move. It acted in a similar manner to how Maleficent’s had behaved as it struggled to become clearer. Except, that wasn’t exactly the same thing that was happening now.
Rowena Ravenclaw was waving the wand in her hand, her lips moving quickly as if chanting. Letters began to appear around the edges of her image, twisting and twirling over one another, scrambling themselves up. A thin mist seemed to swirl around Ravenclaw and the letters, and all Sirius could do was watch, transfixed, as the letters stopped moving, forming three separate words:
Recolitus Optimus: Noctua
Slowly, another symbol appeared to join Rowena on her card. Coming to rest in the very centre of the image was a detailed symbol almost exactly like that of the Branch of the Dragon, save for a few changes: There was no dragon here, but rather a pair of owls standing on each side of the sword’s blade, their eyes staring outwards, directly at Sirius, and the words that had arced along the top for the symbol of the Branch of the Dragon now arced along the bottom of the circle, ‘Recolitus Optimus’ on the left side of the sword’s hilt and ‘Noctua’ on the right.
It was the symbol for the Branch of the Owl.
~*~
That concludes the first part.
~Megan