Harry Potter: Master of Talismans

The chute turned twice before throwing me onto damp earth. I landed on my hip with the carrier held clear, while the lantern struck beside me and went out. In the sudden darkness, I heard indignant chickens and Harry sliding towards the place where my head had stopped.

I rolled aside and called to him. He landed where I had been, swore and began crawling towards my voice, only to be knocked sideways by Ron arriving behind him. Lockhart followed with a cry and enough flapping robe to tangle all three of them together.

‘Nobody move.’ I felt for the lantern handle and checked its glass before giving Harry the matchbox. He relit the wick, revealing four muddy faces looking at one another as if somebody ought to have arranged a better landing.

The pipe widened into a tunnel beyond us. Bones lay underfoot, mostly small ribs and pointed skulls belonging to creatures I could not name. I moved my boot away from a little spine and set the carrier on clear earth; both birds were alive, shifting unhappily beneath the cloth.

Lockhart brushed at his sleeve. ‘An interesting geological feature,’ he said, examining the mud he had collected. ‘I should say we have established enough to return and—’

Ron pointed at the wet chute above us. ‘After you.’ Lockhart looked at the slope, and for once decided against finishing a sentence.

I chalked a broad arrow beside the pipe to mark the way out. The chalk went into the pocket with my notes, where I could find it without emptying everything onto the ground. Then I asked Harry for Lockhart’s wand so that he could keep his own ready.

Lockhart watched it change hands. I put it inside my robe, separate from the pouch; possessing a conventional wand did not suddenly make it useful to me, but it was safer there than with the man whose name was on the box it had come in.

‘Stay between us,’ I told him. ‘Ron, behind him. Harry, with me.’ Carrying the birds occupied one hand, and the uneven floor made it awkward to hold the light far enough ahead with the other.

I took a Levitation strip from the pouch and threw it beneath the lantern. ‘Wingardium Leviosa.’ The lantern rose, swaying while I steadied it, and I guided it ahead of us as we moved into the tunnel.

The charm managed a short distance and a simple direction. When I tried sending the light round a bend before reaching the corner myself, it dipped alarmingly towards the water. I brought it back within reach and told Harry he would need to carry it whenever the route became difficult.

An iron grate blocked the first branch we reached. Rust covered the bars, but they held when Harry tested them, so I marked the junction and we took the descending passage beside it. A shallow channel of water ran along the middle, leaving narrow ground on either side for our feet.

Something sounded faintly through the pipes above. I stopped and called, hoping it was a voice; nothing intelligible came back through the stone.

‘They’ll find the rope and the note,’ Harry said. I wanted him to be right badly enough to call again, but the carrier shifted in my hand and reminded me why we had come down. We went on with the lantern close and our footsteps uncomfortably loud.

Beyond the next bend, a pale shape lay across a low cavern. Ron stopped, and for an instant I thought the creature itself was lying in front of us. Then I saw the split along the back and the hollow where a body should have filled it.

‘A shed skin,’ I said. Harry took the lantern from the air, and I released the charm before moving far enough forward to examine the shape without touching it.

The skin extended beyond the circle of light. Its empty head alone made the printed illustration on Hermione’s page seem absurdly modest; I could have lain inside the part that had covered the body. Ron looked from it to the wicker carrier.

‘Those had better be very loud chickens.’ I had explained the book’s claim at the bathroom, where it sounded wonderfully straightforward. Beside the discarded skin, I wanted another reference, a third bird and someone older holding all of them.

‘We keep them covered until there’s a chance to use them,’ I said. ‘And we don’t look at the snake to find out whether it works.’ Harry raised the lantern while I checked the ground and lower walls beyond the skin for movement.

Ron noticed a dark stain near the farther end and asked whether it was blood. I could not tell from where we stood. When he started towards it, I caught his sleeve and reminded him to stay with us.

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He pulled free of my hand, but stopped. I saw him take a breath and look away from the stain, and was about to say something else when Lockhart made a strangled sound behind us.

His knees buckled. He sank against the wall with one hand over his chest, his head hanging forward and his breathing suddenly shallow. Harry brought the lantern closer while Ron crouched beside him.

I saw Lockhart’s hand move too late. He caught Ron’s robe, dragged him down and reached beneath the fold where the broken wand had been put away. By the time Harry raised his own, Lockhart was on his feet with an arm across Ron’s chest and the taped wand pressed beneath his chin.

‘Stay exactly where you are.’ Lockhart pulled Ron closer, keeping him between himself and Harry. The lantern swung, throwing enormous shadows across the shed skin.

I set the carrier behind my heel. ‘Let him breathe,’ I said, watching how tightly Lockhart held him. Ron’s face had begun turning red above the arm across his chest.

‘My wand first. Put it on the ground.’ Lockhart looked at the place inside my robe where I had stowed it, then back at Harry. ‘Lower yours, Potter. I wouldn’t recommend trying anything from there.’

Harry kept his wand up, but the angle offered him nothing except Ron. ‘It’s over,’ he said. ‘We know what you’ve done.’

‘You do. That is the difficulty.’ Lockhart’s voice had steadied, and he glanced towards the tunnel behind us. ‘We arrived too late to save the girl. You boys were so distressed by what you found that your memories were damaged. I did what I could.’

Ron strained against his arm at the mention of Ginny. Lockhart tightened his grip, and I drew out his wand slowly while my other hand found a shield strip in the pouch.

Ron’s wand had failed in several different ways. It had also produced magic, and I could not plan around it conveniently choosing to injure the person holding it. I needed the tip away from Ron before either Harry or I moved.

I put Lockhart’s wand on the earth between my feet. ‘I’m the one who has this. Harry’s pointing a wand at you. Ron isn’t doing either.’ I kept my voice level, though the hand inside my pouch was beginning to sweat.

‘An admirable attempt at distraction.’ His eyes shifted towards the movement under my robe. ‘Take the paper out, Mercer. Slowly.’

I brought the strip into view. ‘Then look at me while you congratulate yourself,’ I said. His hold on Ron loosened just enough to let him bring the wand round, and Harry moved at the same instant.

‘Obliviate!’ White light burst at the taped break. The sound filled the cavern, Lockhart flew backwards into the wall and Ron dropped with his arms over his head.

A jagged line opened in the stone above us. I grabbed the carrier and jumped towards Harry, kicking Lockhart’s wand forward as I moved. Rock struck the ground I had just left, followed by a slab large enough to drive dust across the whole cavern.

Harry hauled at my shoulder. I stumbled with him into the passage beyond the skin while the roof came down between us and Ron. For several seconds, the noise was so complete that I could not tell whether either of them was shouting.

The last stones rolled to a stop. I was on my knees, with the carrier still in my hands and a frightened clucking coming through its intact wicker. Harry had already turned towards the rubble.

‘Ron! Answer us!’ He moved towards a slab which was still shifting, and I dragged him back by the sleeve before leaning towards a smaller gap.

We listened. Somebody coughed on the other side, then Ron shouted that he was there.

Harry shut his eyes for a moment. I asked whether Ron was hurt, and he said his shoulder felt bruised but he did not think there was anything worse. I told him to stay clear of the pile and asked about Lockhart.

A man’s voice answered something I could not make out. Ron spoke to him, then called back that he was awake and asking where he was. He did not appear to know his own name.

I looked down at the shield strip crumpled in my fist. I had never cast it. Beside my boot, partly buried in dust, lay Lockhart’s wand; I picked it up while his voice carried through the rocks again.

This time I heard him ask whether they were on a school outing. Ron gave a shaky laugh which broke off almost immediately, then called my name.

‘What do we do?’ he asked. I crouched beside the narrow opening and pushed Lockhart’s wand through with its handle towards him.

‘Keep this and your own away from him. Don’t try to put the whole roof back.’ Ron’s fingers closed around the wood, shaking badly enough that I held on until I was sure he had it. ‘Only small, loose pieces. If anything shifts above you, stop.’

He said he had not intended to move the whole roof. I told him the teachers should be coming down behind him and to keep calling until they answered, then looked towards the passage on our side. Air moved faintly along it, carrying the smell of deeper water.

‘And you?’ Ron asked. I could see part of his face through the gap, but the angle hid his eyes.

‘We keep looking for Ginny.’ His hand caught my wrist before I could withdraw it, and I stayed crouched beside the stone while he held on.

‘Don’t leave her.’ I squeezed his hand, then let go before I made a promise which depended on more than wanting it badly enough.

Lockhart began speaking again. Ron told him to sit against the opposite wall and remain there, using a tone so like Percy’s that I recognised it even through the rubble. Whatever the charm had done, he was keeping the wands out of the man’s reach.

I examined the unused shield strip before putting it away. Its edge was creased but the inscription remained unbroken; I returned it to its fold and adjusted the cloth over the birds until their movement settled. Harry held the lantern towards the passage, giving us enough light to see where our feet would go.

‘Ready?’ he asked. I told him no, then picked up the carrier and went with him anyway.

Ron was still calling up the tunnel when we left. After a few steps, an answering shout reached us, distant and distorted by the stone. Someone was coming from the entrance; the fallen roof still lay between us.