Harry's Temporary Sanctuary
After the intense encounter in the Chamber of Echoes, the Custodians led Harry through the labyrinthine halls of Morgana's Fortress. The fortress was an imposing structure, with stone walls lined with ancient tapestries and enchanted lanterns that glowed with a soft, magical light. The air was thick with the scent of old books, herbs, and the faintest trace of something metallic—perhaps the residue of powerful spells cast long ago. Eventually, they brought him to a room in one of the quieter, more secluded wings of the fortress. The room was modestly furnished but comfortable, with a large four-poster bed draped in rich, dark fabrics. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books bound in leather, their titles written in languages Harry didn't recognize. A small fireplace crackled softly, providing warmth, and though the window was magically sealed, it offered a view of distant mountains shrouded in mist.
After being shown to the room, Harry was left alone to collect his thoughts. The door locked behind him with a soft click—not aggressively, but as a precaution. The room was clearly intended to keep him contained until the Custodians decided what to do with him. Despite the weight of his situation, Harry felt a strange sense of calm, perhaps due to the pervasive magic of the fortress. He took a moment to explore his surroundings. The room, though not extravagant, had a quiet dignity. Enchanted objects were placed around—small trinkets that hummed with faint magical energy. The books on the shelves seemed to beckon him, but when he tried to open one, it remained sealed, as though the knowledge within was not yet meant for him.
After what felt like an hour, Harry heard soft footsteps approaching the door. The lock clicked again, and the door opened to reveal Emma, the Shade of the Throne. She entered the room silently, almost as if she glided rather than walked, carrying a tray with food and a set of clean, finely crafted clothes draped over one arm. Emma's presence was otherworldly. She appeared semi-transparent, her form slightly blurred at the edges, giving her an ethereal quality. Her robes seemed to shift in color with the light, and her eyes, glowing faintly, carried a deep, almost sorrowful wisdom. Despite her ghostly appearance, there was a warmth in her demeanor that set Harry somewhat at ease.
She set the tray of food down on a small table by the window and placed the clothes on the bed. "You must be hungry," she said softly, her voice carrying an undertone of ancient power. The food was simple yet hearty—fresh bread, cheese, fruits, and a steaming bowl of soup. The clothes were made from fine, comfortable fabric, clearly intended to replace his travel-worn robes. Harry, still cautious but grateful for the gesture, nodded. "Thank you," he said, moving toward the table. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the comforting smell of the food. "I appreciate this... though I'm still not entirely sure where I am or what's happening."
Emma watched him with a calm, knowing expression. "You are in a place far from your world, Harry Potter. This fortress, and the land beyond it, are bound by ancient magic—magic that called out to you, or perhaps, to which you were unknowingly drawn." As Harry began to eat, she continued, "The Custodians are wary of your presence, as they must be. But you have nothing to fear while you are here. This room is yours for as long as you need it. Rest, gather your strength, and in time, the reason for your being here will become clear."
Harry paused, looking up from his meal. "And what about you? You seem to know more about this place than the others. Who are you, really?" Emma smiled faintly, a smile tinged with both sadness and mystery. "I am Emma, the Shade of the Throne. I am both of this world and beyond it, a reflection of the magic that sustains Morgana's Seat. I was created, in a sense, to watch over this place, to ensure that Morgana's will endures. And now, it seems, I am to watch over you as well."
Emma moved to leave, but before she did, she turned back to Harry. "If you need anything, simply call for me. I will hear you." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried a weight that suggested she would be nearby, always watching, always present. After Emma left, Harry finished his meal and changed into the new clothes, finding them surprisingly comfortable and fitting. He sat by the window, gazing out at the mist-covered mountains, and contemplated everything that had happened. The warmth of the room, the food, and the kindness of Emma provided some comfort, but the mystery of his situation lingered heavily in his mind. He knew that while he was safe for now, he could not stay in this room forever. He had to find a way to understand this new world, the portal that had brought him here, and most importantly, how to return to his own world. For now, though, he allowed himself a moment of rest, knowing that the challenges ahead would require all his strength and wits.