The key to Magic
Ruairi examined his borrowed wand he acquired from Mr. Fig with a hint of disgust. The short piece of wood, though emanating with clear magical power, never listened to him when it was supposed to. It was frustrating at times when he expected a bout of light and got a concentrated power of the sun instead. Or when Mr Fig taught him a protection spell and the wand would electrify his robes. Then again, what else can you expect from a spruce wand with a unicorn core?
Ruairi wobbled while walking on the cobbled streets of London and Mr Fig caught him just in time before he fell.
“Careful there, young man. Is the leg giving you trouble again?”
“No more than usual. I’m not used to big cities and their unnatural paths and roads.”
“Ah, yes. It must be quite different from beaten paths on the farm, especially with your new addition.”
Ruairi knew that Professor Fig meant well but he couldn’t help but wince at the mention of his recent disfigurement. He should be grateful. It was Mr Fig after all who found him and proceeded to take care of him for the last six months. He was the one to prevent the Ministry of Magic from taking him into their custody, and he was the one to open his house to a complete stranger. He was also the one to buy all the clothes as well as cover all medical expenses. He should be grateful, so why did he feel so irritated instead?
“Are you sure you don’t want your bow and arrows to be packed with the rest of our luggage?” professor Fig asked while levitating said luggage on top of the carriage that was waiting for them. The streets were currently empty, except for a few wizards passing by on their way home no doubt. Their meeting was scheduled at the far end of a wizarding Alley so there was no fear of muggles witnessing magic.
Ruairi straightened his posture and clenched his fist around Ciaran’s bow.
“I’m quite sure.”
“It might make your journey a bit uncomfortable…”
“I’ll part with my bow the day you part with your wand, professor. With all due respect.“, he added quickly to not sound too ungrateful. Professor Fig nodded, though he still seemed unsure about his charges decision. “They might not allow you to keep your bow with you at all times during your stay at Hogwarts.”
“They can try.”
“Ruairi…”
“We talked about it, professor. I promised to try and adapt myself to this new life which fate dropped on my path but this bow is most sacred to me and I will not compromise on having it removed. It is as much a part of me as your wand is a part of you. I will do my best to convince them to keep it but I shan’t back down.”
The older wizard sighed but argued no further about the topic. “Then I will help you convince them. I cannot promise Headmaster Black will relent but perhaps with enough persuasion…”
CRACK
Ruairi pulled out his bow almost as quickly as a wizard would pull their wand out and aimed at the offending noise. To his relief, it was only a short chubby man in a handsome suit wearing glasses, who apparated and was now looking around in a daze until he spotted Professor Fig.
“Eleazar! It’s - oh!” he startled at the sight of an arrow pointed his way. “My Goodness!”
The bow was swiftly pushed down by an irritated Professor Fig “Calm yourself, Ruairi! There’s no need for that here!”
“I-I’m sorry. The noise startled me.”, he explained sheepishly.
“That’s all right.” He said and then added in a somewhat amused tone. “It still surprises me that your first instinct is to fight with arrows and not magic.”
“It’s most familiar to me.”
Professor Fig turned to his new companion to greet him properly and didn’t notice how Ruairi’s cheeks burned with shame. It has been half a year since the incident and he still cannot quell his automatic reaction to loud noises. His wizard friend was right, he must learn how to control himself better and do it sooner rather than later before other wizarding children take notice and use this weakness against him.
He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice how Professor Fig started ushering him towards the carriage. He seemed worried and in more of a hurry than a moment before.
“Let’s move our conversation inside. George here will accompany us to Hogwarts.”
“If that’s all right with your young charge over here?”, asked George politely.
“Of course. I apologise again…”
“No need, no need. Let's take our seats. I cannot wait to see the old pile of rocks one more time. Ah, it probably hasn’t changed a dot since I’ve gone there!”
As they entered their carriage, Ruairi had to accommodate the weapons on his back but managed to do it without much trouble. He was careful not to squish his quiver as he sat on comfortable velvet cushions. They all squeezed inside and the driver whistled once before Ruairi was met with an unsettling sensation of flying in a death box. He discreetly held on to his seat and hoped no one noticed how frightening this new experience was for him.
They left the city of London just as the Bells in Big Ben struck six times.
……………………………………
“I’m so glad I managed to catch you before you left for the Scottish highlands, my dear friend!”, beamed George.
“Just barely”, chuckled professor Fig. As the carriage flew across the sky Ruairi focused his entire attention on the speckled wizard in front of him. According to their driver, the journey will take approximately two to three hours which compared with his previous experience going through Mists of Avalon sounded like a piece of cake.
George looked at Ruairi with curiosity.
“And who is your travelling companion?”
Professor Fig smirked at that. “A new student”
“New?”
Ruairi nodded. “I’m joining Hogwarts for the first time, sir. As a fifth-year.”
“How extraordinary!”
“It is indeed.” Fig agreed, “None of the faculty have ever heard of anyone admitted to Hogwarts so late but I must confess, Ruairi will be an exceptional addition considering his quick grasp on magic.”
“Have you been training him?”
“Oh yes, it’s quite a tale. When the Headmaster informed me of the new student I took it upon myself to help him get up to speed with the rest of his peers, who have been honing their skills for the last four years. Ruairi has exceeded all of my expectations.”
The boy felt his cheeks burning. They must surely stand out like two tomatoes on his pale freckled skin.
“Well, you couldn’t have asked for a better mentor!” said George. “ Professor Fig is not only an exceptional teacher, he’s also a remarkably intuitive – and gifted – wizard!”
This time it was Fig who waved his hand as if embarrassed by the compliments, though the boy agreed with the statement. He saw the man perform very creative spells during their first demonstration. “Mr. Osric is prone to flattery. I daresay it is one of the reasons he’s risen so far in the ministry.”
Ministry?
Ruairi frowned at that bit of information but remained calm and collected. It was that moment when Mr. Osric chose to change the topic and pull out the Daily Prophet with a huge heading about goblin rebellion. They exchanged a few comments about some Ranrok fellow but Ruairi was more interested in the more frequent shaking of the carriage. He looked back and saw the driver struggling with pulling the thestrals in the right direction. The beasts were behaving strangely as if something invisible had spooked them. Their heads turned left and right and one even tried to dive nervously.
The boy looked around outside the windows but the clouds obscured most of the sky, although…
A large shadow quickly appeared and disappeared before Ruairi could get a closer look. They weren’t alone.
“Professor Fig, we – “ he paused when he saw that Mr Osric had pulled out an elaborate long box with a glowing symbol. He gasped and instinctively reached out to touch it as he recognised the familiar whispers of Wild Magic. “What is that?”
“I was just explaining to Mr. Fig that his wife had sent it to me before she died. It must be terribly important but for all my efforts I couldn’t get it open.” Mr Osric lamented and Ruairi forgot at that moment about any dangers as he didn’t expect to find pure Wild Magic outside his druidic settlement. “It would never open for you.”, he muttered.
Both men looked at him quizzically.
“Whyever not?”, asked Professor Fig. Ruairi hesitated before making a decision and reaching out to the whispering box. When his fingertips glided smoothly upon the surface, the voices grew even louder.
Open us…son of Hern…touch us…
Come closer…
We welcome you…we see you…
The box glowed and clicked. Then it opened and revealed a silver key with the same shape as the symbol on the lock.
“How did you do that?”
Ruairi knew how to explain that but he wasn’t sure if he should or how vague a response he should give. He wasn’t supposed to divulge any information about the Druid magic, the first thing each child learned was to keep their settlement and culture a secret from the outsiders. He somewhat trusted Professor Fig but a ministry employee? Not in a million years!
He reached out to touch the key, which had the same familiar glow but Professor Fig quickly caught his hand. “Wait! We don’t know what – “.
CRASH
“AAAAAARGH!!!”
It happened so fast that they had barely any time to react except hold on to the one half of the carriage left intact. The other half was in the mouth of a very large dragon. With a viciously red collar on its neck.
In the next second Rauri watched as Mr. Osric was violently crushed in the beast’s maw in a single snap. It was the third death he witnessed in his life.
The driver tried to urge the thestralls to fly faster but nothing could match the speed of an angry dragon which was circling now in the air preparing to attack the second time. Professor Fig grabbed Ruairi’s hand and shouted “Jump!”
“What?! Are you mad?!”
“Now!!!”, and he pulled his charge with him just as the driver apparated and the last bits of carriage blew up from the force of dragon fire. They were falling with an increasing speed and Ruairi felt his heart beat rapidly faster with each metre. He couldn’t even see the ground, they were that high.
Professor Fig, still clenching his hand, saw the box open during the fall and the key popped out of it soon after. “The key!”, he shouted.
The redhead called on the small bits of Wild Magic he possessed and quickly whispered “ Trobhad!”. The key immediately snapped into his hand. He felt an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. The world shifted and both Ruairi and Professor Fig disappeared from the sky.
………………………………………………………………..
When Ruairi dared to open his eyes again he saw a large cave and he would have panicked if not for the soothing sounds of the waves crashing on the nearby shore. He didn’t recognise the place but assumed that the key must have been enchanted. A portkey, as his wizarding mentor once explained. Speaking of…
Professor Fig stood up and dusted off his robes. He looked relatively unharmed which was quite impressive considering his age and profession. He looked around and noticed Ruairi lying on the ground but aside from giving him a worrying look, he didn’t rush to help him.
“A dragon! What in Merlin’s name possessed that creature to behave like that?!”, he cried out. “And you, my friend, I believe owe me some explanation considering the fact that two people - my wife and George - have now lost their lives protecting whatever this key leads to.”
Ruairi winced and nodded. He did owe Professor Fig his life. That much was true. He tried to stand up but he couldn’t feel his left leg, which was understandable after such a great fall. Then he reached behind him and a cold dread filled his heart. The bow was gone. The arrows didn’t matter but the bow! If he lost it…!
“I got it, Ruairi. Here.” The old wizard kneeled down and there in his wrinkled hand laid Ciaran’s weapon, the only thing left from the boy’s past life. He grabbed it swiftly and held it for a few seconds muttering apologies to his friend’s spirit. “Thank you.” He looked up and the wizard smiled kindly.
“Can you stand?”
“I..I think my leg…”
“Ah, let me have a look.”
When they unclasped the left sleeve of his trousers, sewn there for convenience, it turned out that the fake leg had indeed been crushed in the fall. Its right joint and screws were bent beyond what any smith could repair and for a moment Ruairi feared that he’ll have to wobble the entire way to Hogwarts. “It’s broken.”
Professor Fig smirked and was about to lift his wand to repair the mechanism but hesitated at the last moment and closed his mouth before an incantation was even worded. He gave Ruairi a curious look.
“Can you repair it?”
“Not without proper tools, I can’t.”
“What about magic?”
Ruairi frowned at that remark and gave his mentor a confused look. “I’m not sure I know the spell…?”
“I saw you summon the key to your hand. In a language I haven’t heard anywhere before.”
The boy bit his lip and turned his eyes away. He was hoping to keep things a secret for a few years at least or even longer. He did not expect an actual dragon to thwart his plans. Professor Fig seemed to know that and despite finding out his protégé knew magic all along he didn’t seem angry or even irritated, but curious instead. The silence stretched for a few moments longer as the sea waves sang their song in the background.
“You did not grow up with muggles, did you?” Ruairi shook his head. “And you knew magic?” This time he nodded.
“All right.”
Ruairi frowned at his mentor and his calm demeanour. “All right?”
“I knew you weren’t telling me everything. You were never truly surprised by my spells or many of the magical objects in my house. Although I wish you’d have told me I have a feeling that you were keeping secrets for a good reason. My only hope is that one day you’ll trust me enough to tell me more about your upbringing. Right now we have more pressing matters to think of. Like getting out of here and not missing your Hogwarts ceremony.” He smirked at that. He looked down at the broken leg again. “Do you want me to…?”
“Yes, please.” Professor Fig waved his wand and whispered ‘Reparo’ and Ruairi watched with fascination as metal straightened itself back to its original shape and the screws slotted into place. It looked as good as new. When the mechanisms were fixed, the runes under the metal parts must have aligned again, because Ruairi felt something click and then a familiar by now tingling sensation of nerves connecting to prosthetics. “I could never do that.”, said Ruairi.
“Hmm?”
“repair things with magic. I can sense it, hear it and speak to it but it's more…like asking a spirit for permission. Interacting with a living being, rather than something abstract.”
Mr Fig’s eyes widened. “Remarkable”, he whispered. “But, we should probably move on and see where this portkey led us. Oh, and here. Just in case.” He passed his protégé a few wiggenweld potions. “Do you remember what they are?”
“Healing liquid, I mean potions!”
“Correct! Now, let’s see. I think I can smell a fresh breeze coming from the sea…”
…………………………………………………………………………………
Professor Fig and Ruairi used this small adventure as a learning opportunity. Mr Fig about Ruairi’s hidden magical talents, and Ruairi to practice using his borrowed wand. The stubborn piece of wood seemed to have a better day as it cast precisely what Ruairi wanted.
“Even without your strange magical talent, your grasp on new spells is incredible. I’m sure once you get your own wand you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.” Said Mr. Fig as they entered the leftover ruins of a tower, which by some miracle (or magic indeed) withstood the crashing waves and passage of time.
“It might take some time before that happens. Making your own wand is a careful and long process, not to mention gathering the proper ingredients.”
Mr. Fig raised his eyebrows. “Is that how your community does it?”
Ruairi winced at the slip of the tongue but it was too late now so he continued. “Yes. I was taught how to choose wood from each tree and what they mean, but I haven’t got to combining the parts yet.”
“Fascinating! Well, you won’t have to worry about that. There is an excellent wandmaker in Hogsmeade village, not far from Hogwarts.”
“What’s Hogsmeade?”
As Professor Fig explained the various places surrounding the Hogwarts Castle they also decided to explore the ruins, and Ruairi didn’t have to go far before more familiar whispers appeared.
Open us…
Touch us…we are here…find us…
He stopped in his tracks and looked around, trying to discern where the voices were coming from. His mentor watched with ample curiosity. “What is it?”
“I can hear them. Wild magic was used here and I can hear it calling me.” He walked around listening intently. He passed a tall statue of a wizard and then noticed a path behind the main wall which led around the ruined tower, further back. “There! That way!”, he said when he noticed another glow on a wall.
When they stood in front of it, Ruairi saw a reflection of a room he had never seen before. It looked incredibly rich and extravagant, almost like one of the ballrooms he saw once in a picture book. The wall's surface resembled a mirror but he knew it was only an illusion. Something would happen if he touched it.
“There is something behind this wall, like another room.”
“I can’t see anything.”
“It’s well hidden. I’m not sure but I think…it might be a portal. Something similar to your portkeys. We had them where I lived though we only used them in an emergency.”, he explained. He shouldn’t be explaining these things to Mr Fig but until he learned how to work with Wild Magic properly, he was stuck here, so he might as well gain some allies and friends. Surely, Mr Fig earned that title, hasn’t he?
Without hesitation, he grabbed his mentor and touched the wall. It shimmered and wobbled softly before vanishing in a matter of seconds. Ruairi smiled in triumph and then smiled even wider when he turned Mr Fig around to show him what changed and the man gasped in astonishment.
“Godric’s Heart!”
At the centre of the room was a large podium with an open tome. A creature very similar to a redcap laid on it, snoring and fast asleep. Ruairi has never seen one that close before. And where was its spear? And the red hood? He began to reach for his bow only for Mr. Fig to shake his head and come closer. What was that man doing?
“It’s a goblin, Ruairi. We must be at Gringotts.” Oh. The boy let the professor take the reins here. Strange, he remembered seeing those creatures in his picture book and they always wore red caps and carried large spears. He should have paid more attention to his lessons.
Mr Fig cleared his throat once, then twice, then again and louder which woke up the snoring Goblin, who nearly fell from the dais in a startled surprise. The creature looked them up and down and smiled widely showing a row of incredibly sharp teeth. Ruairi squared his shoulders, keeping a hand behind his back just in case. He has heard of Goblins of course, but he’s never seen one up close.
Mr Fig gave goblin their key, then followed him somewhere away while the redhead boy was looking around and taking the sights. Such lavish floors and ceilings! He noticed them gone, however, and quickly followed as well. Then, he saw a most unnatural and complicated contraption in his life made of metal with peculiar mechanics.
“What is that?!”, he gasped. The goblin snickered at his comment. “First time to Gringotts, hmm? This is a cart which we use to travel to different vaults in Gringotts Bank. I would strongly advise you to sit tight and hold on to something.”
Ruairi decided to hold Mr. Fig’s arm in a death grip. His mentor chuckled but only patted his arm as they rode. The thing had no seatbelts and Ruairi was sure he would fall off at a certain point but it seems the carts had a magic of their own. The moment they entered a milliard of tunnels, spinning upside down and swerving left and right, something kept pulling him into the seat as long as the cart was in motion.
At one point they stopped at a checkpoint, guarded by a goblin in goblin-sized muggle clothes that Ruairi had only seen in London’s police. This creature was less than friendly but that’s not what caught the boy’s attention. The band on his arm…it glowed red. It felt…wrong.
Ruairi caught only a small part of whispers from the armband but none of them were good. Almost like the magic was hurting or wanted to inflict pain on something or someone. Why would the goblin wear such a thing? Who gave it to him?
“Did you see his armband, professor?”
“Hmm?”
“His arm. It had the same type of runes as the dragon collar. I could only hear short whispers but the magic was, um, angry. Or hurting. I’m not sure.”
Mr. Fig frowned at that. This was indeed peculiar.
“Interesting. You don’t think it’s a coincidence, do you?”
“I think…I think someone wanted that key. Someone knew about it and sent a dragon after us.”
“What? Why would anyone - ?”
“What was that?!”, the old Goblin interrupted their conversation and Ruairi realised that perhaps they shouldn’t be talking about such sensitive topics in an open space, even with the cart’s loud rattling.
Soon, the ride stopped and they followed their guide to a heavy-looking door with many locks. The key fit perfectly.
However, once they entered, the goblin interrupted Professor Fig saying that the instructions he was left with clearly stated that whoever got the key had to enter the vault and be closed within.
No. NO!
Ruairi pulled out his bow in quick reflex but he was much too late. Before a single arrow was even pulled, the vault door closed with a loud boom encasing him and his mentor in nearly perfect darkness. Ruairi felt his chest tighten and all of a sudden the room felt like all of the air had been sucked out of it and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t…
“Breather, Ruairi. Come here, breathe.” Mr Fig cast lumos and kindly turned the boy to look at him. “Breathe slowly, just like me. We are not in danger. I’m quite sure there is another way out of here, all we have to do is think. In fact, this is a perfect moment to teach you another useful spell. All right?”
Ruairi nodded. He felt frightened but he trusted Mr Fig. “This is stupid. I was never trapped in a cage, a room, or a closet. I don’t understand why is this happening.”
“Ah, but you were trapped before. In that cave. It’s only natural to feel fear after such a traumatic event.”
The boy scoffed, disagreeing but didn’t push the topic any further. “Just show me the damn spell already.”
“Of course. Repeat after me and follow my wand movements.” He waved his wand in a circle. “Revelio!”
“Revelio!”, repeated Ruairi. His spruce wand sparked a little but didn’t prevent the spell from being cast.
A door with more Wild Magic appeared but this time Ruairi felt that something was different about it. The magic felt tense and he could sense even from this far that it was pushing against whatever limits it was caged in. Like a moth rattling against a windowpane.
“Another symbol!”, gasped Professor Fig excitedly.
“Yes, but…there’s something wrong with it. You cannot hear it professor but it feels like the magic is struggling with its purpose.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. It’s like someone forced it to do something it didn’t want to and now it almost feels – um – sad. I think.”
Ruairi stepped closer to the door and as his hand nearly touched the handle he could hear the whispers loudly and clearly.
Must…open…must change place…CANNOT DO IT, PLEASE I CANNOT -!
There was nothing he could do here. Not yet anyway. He could only listen as the spirits reluctantly transported him and his mentor to a different space while begging to be released. Who could do such a cruel thing to a living being?
Once again, darkness embraced them completely. Mr Fig cast lumos and Ruairi saw endless rows of columns going each way, left, right, back and forward.
“Let’s stick together, Ruairi. We don’t know what we might encounter here.”
“Agreed.”
They marched forward at a steady pace while looking for anything that could indicate an exit or a door of some kind. So far they were followed only by silence and the sound of their footsteps on a clear marble floor. The general design of this place reminded Ruairi of elegant ballrooms in an ancient manor or smooth and evenly carved corridors of a castle made from stone and glass. It felt even more unnatural than the cobbled streets of London and Ruairi had a strange feeling that they were walking into a trap.
Suddenly, he heard more voices. Struggling and in pain like before.
Come to us….show us your strength…
NO, I DON’T WISH TO FIGHT!
Step closer…we are here...we DON’T WANT TO DO THIS!
“ Tha mi an seo …” (I am here) said Ruairi, catching Mr Figs attention.
“What did you say?”, he asked.
“I can hear more spirits bound by magic. Gods, what I wouldn’t give for a staff! I cannot help them here, they are trapped by someone’s will and there’s nothing I can do!” It was frustrating that all he could do was follow the apparent Wild Magic breadcrumbs someone left for them to find. “I will speak to them but I fear all we can do is find them and see what happens.”
He felt Mr Fig's hand on his shoulder which gave him a small comfort in these dark halls. He wasn’t sure Mr Fig understood what he was talking about but at least he had some empathy for the situation. “Let’s move on.”
They reached a whirlwind of power attached to the floor, which Ruairi stepped on and pulled. The power transformed into water and flowed around creating a large pool until it suddenly stopped and froze. As the spell was released, the whole place trembled with the gentlest of earthquakes that Ruairi had ever felt.
In the next moment, they had to solve a few riddles which included clever uses of lumos spell as well as Revelio. Professor Fig seemed to concentrate on those puzzles but Ruairi knew he was absorbing every piece of information about him that he could.
When he was first transported to the large cottage near the English border, he was still deep in grief and therefore spent most days eating and reading in silence while avoiding company. Until the day Mr Fig caught him practising his archery skills on a nearby apple tree. He never forced Ruairi to speak about his past and never pushed him to act like a wizard. No, Ruairi did that on his own. He never told the truth, only vague half-truths but even then he suspected Mr Fig to be more perceptive than he initially let on.
A most curious and certainly creative wizard. Perhaps they weren’t all that bad.
This place however was about to change that attitude.
The next puzzle had brought even deeper darkness to their environment and when no light came from his mentor’s wand, he cast it himself. And found himself alone.
Great.
Thankfully, all he had to do was follow the tormented voices of Wild Magic. As he neared another glowing point on the floor, the power was as strong as the wind in a storm and he had to plant his feet hard on the ground to not let himself be swept away with the current. He pulled and to his surprise, a knight appeared. It rose slowly and unsheathed its weapon. THAT did not happen before. And Mr Fig was nowhere to be found. Oh gods…!
The knight moved quickly, swinging its sword and Ruairi rolled on instinct, pulling out his bow and ignoring an affronted huff coming from his spruce wand. The knight turned slowly and mechanically as if it struggled to move into a proper battle stance. It lifted its sword again but Ruairi was ready. He fired an arrow and whispered “ Mallich!” It hit the knight square in the chest sticking out like a wood splinter and caused the enchanted warrior to move at a much slower pace before Ruairi finished it with another shot. “ Meirg!”, he breathed the word and it flew with the arrow, spilling all over the knight causing him to rust and corrode with an incredible speed.
Ruairi patted his bow smiling and sweating from this short battle. “ ’s math a rinn thu, Ciaran.” (Well done, Ciaran).
The swirling magical arena did not disparate with the knight's demise. No, instead, three more knights took its place and prepared to charge at the redheaded boy, who quickly dropped his smirk.
“ Cia mheud nàmhaid?!” (how many enemies?!) He readied his bow again but one of the knights moved faster and nearly skewered him with the sword and that was when Ruairi heard the voice trapped inside the shining armour.
Fight…fight…I’m sorry!
I don’t want to do this!
Please…run…RUN!
His eyes widened and another swing of the sword from the left made him duck and swiftly kick the opponent in retaliation. The left knight staggered but the middle one was ready again. He had to retreat, there were too many of them and he only had a limited number of arrows. Ruairi jumped back and shot at the staggered knight and then the middle to slow them down. “Reòth! ” The arrow froze both knights and Ruairi dodged an attack from the third one before moving right in front of the new ice statues. The third knight turned and jumped with a heavy attack but at the last moment, Ruairi darted left and the sword crushed the frozen knights into a thousand pieces.
That left him with only one opponent in the arena.
He positioned himself quickly and aimed at the remaining knight, pulling the bowstring as far as he could. “ Tàmhaich! ”, he said and the arrow listened. It flew smoothly, gliding through magically enhanced air and shot the bound spirit right underneath its helmet. The armour began to topple and soon came down in a crumpled heap on the floor like a bunch of building blocks.
“Mallaich an t-àite so! ” (Curse this place!), he muttered under his breath. His back was beginning to sweat, and the mechanical leg started to chafe from overuse. Despite that, he shouldn’t be staying here but try and find Mr Fig instead. Who created this place? Who dared disrupt the careful balance between the realms by enslaving peaceful spirits of the Great Beyond? Ruairi was so furious he almost missed how said spirits began to encircle him from the bottom and flow in one direction.
Did they…? Did he release them? Did he succeed?
He watched as the tiny whisps of light glided around him and started forming an arching doorway with a glassy entrance.
Thank you….son of Hern…we see you…
We thank you…
Peace…at last…we go away…
Ruairi watched, entranced as the lights twinkled like little stars and eventually disappeared into the darkness leaving the mirrored entrance as the only source of light. He stood there for a moment, too shocked to move and then finally let out a giggle and a soft laugh.
“Sìth gun robh maille riut. ” (Peace be with you), he said as a last Goodbye and stepped through the archway.
He was met with a relieved-looking Mr Fig, who upon seeing him let out a breath of tension. It was the same kind of round ballroom with intricate carvings and columns, a smooth floor and additionally, a marble bird basin. At least that’s what it looked like to Ruairi. Another wizarding contraption?
“Professor! Are you all right?”, he asked. Mr Fig nodded. “Are you?”, he asked in return and Ruairi confirmed.
“Where were you? After solving the last puzzle I landed right here with this pensive appearing in front of me-“
“The what?”
“Pensive. It’s for storing memories. It also had this floating above it.” he said and pulled out a crystal vial shaped like a raindrop.
The next thing Ruairi knew, he was experiencing a series of vertigo as they plundered down into someone else’s memories. It was the same chamber but this time Ruairi could see the culprits of the disaster he fought through previously. Wizards! Waving their wands about and commanding Wild magic like it was nothing! How dare they!
In their typical pride and ignorance, they left all those places for someone with the same abilities to find and it just happened to be Ruairi. Wrong place, right time. Mr Fig was oblivious to his charge's inner turmoil and gasped at the evidence of magic he had never seen before.
“Incredible! Is that what you see all the time?”, he asked astonished. Ruairi sneered at that. “Yes, but I don’t use it for frivolous and mundane purposes!”
“What – ?“
“I don’t force Wild mother’s children into slavery like those filthy cunts did! Did you see them?! Lording over their tiny little realm like kings without a care, without consequences!!!” He raged in earnest now, pacing back and forth once they returned to the chamber. Mr Fig only looked more confused than before.
“What do you mean Wild mother? I don’t understand what you’re talking about, are you saying that…magic is alive? Truly alive?”
Ruairi scoffed at his remark. “No…I shouldn’t be saying any of this. You’re a wizard, you wouldn’t understand! I shouldn’t…!”
“Ruairi. I am only trying to help. Are you saying that wizards have been hurting a living being, all this time? I’m sorry to say but that is quite a lot to take in.”
Ruairi shook his head, trying to calm his nerves and debating which decision to make now. Which words to choose, how much more could he involve Professor Fig who, though kind-hearted, was just as ignorant as any witch or wizard on true magic. He breathed in, breathed out…breathed in…
“The magic most wizards use is like…like playing with leftovers from a haircut. Like shaping and commanding dead strands of skin and changing them into whatever you want. This – “ he pointed at the pensive “is deeper magic. It involves reaching to the Great Beyond and anything seeped deep in natural elements of the world. The Air, Water, Earth, Fire as well as a myriad of other spirits and beings. They exist and shape the world we live in. They are part of this realm as much as we are and to break them…to-to force them against their nature! It’s monstrous!”
Mr Fig stood unmoving, contemplating all the information that Ruairi just bombarded him and the boy could see that despite the evidence, he was struggling with believing him. To outsiders it could seem extraordinary, Ruairi admitted. But Mr Fig quickly shook his head and regained his composure.
“It seems you are more mysterious than I ever expected. This…and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, is something utterly unbelievable and yet, after all I’ve seen today with you and experienced I really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.” He paused for a moment and a shadow of sadness appeared on his face. “My wife would have loved this. She’s been studying Ancient – no, Wild magic nearly all her life. This knowledge you possess, do you…is it common for your family? Where you come from?”
Ruairi nodded. “Yes, though I cannot say more. I am breaking so many rules right now, it’s just…”
“I understand.” Mr Fig reassured him with a hand on his shoulder. “I promise to not betray your trust in me and I shall keep whatever it is between us. In fact, I was going to suggest not telling anyone at Hogwarts about our adventures today, we – “
Mr Fig’s speech was suddenly interrupted by a loud commotion behind them and in quick reflex, he slipped the still glowing flask into his pocket. Ruairi gripped his bow tighter and took a battle stance.
A group of goblins appeared, marching forward along with the same goblin who opened the vault for them. Later, when Ruairi was sleeping comfortably at Hogwarts under warm bedcovers he would remember that it was the ugliest and angriest goblin he has ever seen.
The leader of the pack sneered at Mr Fig’s pointed wand and raised an eyebrow at the boy’s arrow. “I was right” it growled.
“Ranrok!”, Mr fig spat. “I should have known you were somehow involved in all this mess!”
The goblin chuckled. “Seems my reputation precedes me. I was beginning to think no one was ever going to visit Rakham's vault.”
“And why are you here?” Mr Fig raised his wand a bit higher. Ruairi sensed that a fight was imminent and he started backing away while steadily pointing his arrow at Ranrok.
The goblin seemed completely unfazed by their attitude. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, despite the angrily glowing armoured shoulder pads. “No need for that. Just give me whatever it is you found here and we can let bygones be bygones.”
Then, to Ruairi’s utter surprise, the other goblin who let them inside this vault interrupted Ranrok. The boy wasn’t sure if the creature was either very brave or incredibly stupid.
It didn’t last long. Ranrok seemed to have little patience which he confirmed when he used whatever magic he had infused in his armour and crushed the poor goblin like a rag doll. The rest of the pack didn’t even flinch or laugh. They just stared at Ruairi and Mr Fig with malicious intent.
“Now, where were we?”
“I’m not giving you anything!” Mr Fig sputtered angrily. The goblin's attention turned to Ruairi and feeling those gleaming red eyes on him sent a chill down his spine. He shivered.
“Well…perhaps your young friend here would be more helpful?”
Well, if they were going to fight Ruairi might as well shoot first and ask questions later. However, Mr Fig was faster and he cast the first spell at Ranrok which…the goblin caught?
He stopped the spell with his armoured hand and then flung it right at Mr Fig and Ruairi, who were pushed away with great force. The goblin’s power screamed with a thousand tormented voices and Ruairi nearly went deaf from being bombarded with their cacophony. It sounded like Wild magic but only its bad parts. How is that possible?
Unfortunately, the goblin’s magic had awakened something deeper because suddenly the lights turned red and a deep alarm resounded in the hall. Then a tall colossus emerged from the middle of the chamber floor and focused on swinging its equally giant sword at the intruders. Holy shit!
“Professor, we have to go! We have to get out!” But though Mr Fig heard him, he was also concentrating on defending themselves from both goblins and now the giant knight. Ruairi had to think fast!
Focus, Ruairi, focus! There must be another way!
We are here…follow…
Come…here…open us…
He barely heard the whispers amidst the noise of battle and just in time. A column got hit by the knight’s sword and the whole structure was quickly collapsing on their heads. “Professor Fig! Quickly!!!”, he touched the mirror and held out his hand for Mr Fig to catch. The man caught on to what Ruari was planning to do and he sprinted like the floor was on fire. They hugged tightly and Ruairi shouted, “FOSGAIL MÒR!” (open wide). The mirror wobbled and the Gringotts vault vanished.
Ruairi welcomed the fresh evening smell of Scottish highlands and forests. They were safe, for now.
Mr Fig panted and breathed hard while looking around and the surroundings put a relieved smile on his face. “Oh…I’ve never seen so powerful a goblin. He seemed wholly unaffected by my magic!”
“He had Wild Magic. But it felt wrong. I’ve never felt anything so powerful and malicious in my life. It was unnatural!”
“That’s one word for it.” Said Mr. Fig. He looked around and a sudden realisation came to him. “It can’t be…!”
“What? Where are we?” Ruairi did not recognise the forest or these lands at all. He saw, not far away a paved pathway with lampposts though it was quite empty this late in the evening. Mr Fig only smirked. “It seems that whoever crafted that portkey, the chamber and the trials wanted someone with your abilities to follow the path and end up here.”
“Here? Where is here?”
Mr Fig grinned. “ Come. We’ve a sorting ceremony to get to.”