Chapter 22
Slughorn's favorite students woke up early that morning. Some of them were excited, and others perhaps not so much, but all those summoned arrived promptly at the dock.
The Pevensies descended the stairs from the front courtyard with that nervous feeling in their stomachs that one gets when about to do something important. Their dark circles were the only clue on their faces hinting at the night of planning they had spent. The strategy was set. Each of them would split up into different sections of the house, trying not to be detected by the rest of the visitors.
The McLaggens didn't live there. It would be easy to wander around in an empty house.
Or at least, that's what they thought.
The sun was already reflecting on the waters when Slughorn appeared, several minutes later than agreed, accompanied by Polly Plummer. The woman turned to give Lucy a slight smile before the professor began explaining the workings of the Portkey they would use to get there.
Peter was unable to pay attention, but the key information stuck in his head. The object would activate again at five o'clock sharp, the time by which everyone had to be back in the main hall of the house. Nothing could distract him. After all, he would be in charge of reaching the professor's study, the most likely place to find something.
"Everything okay, Peter?" Hermione asked him when Slughorn finished speaking. "You look tired. Did you sleep well?"
"Perfectly," he said. "Just a bit nervous, that's all."
"It must be hard to go back to the professor's house, right?" she said with a half-smile, briefly placing her hand on his back before removing it.
Peter hadn't thought of that. Among all the logistics, strategy, and plans, he hadn't considered what the mansion would make him feel. Sadness and nostalgia, surely. A lot of both.
"I miss him," he said, more emotional than he expected.
"You'll handle it," she said. "And if not, when we return, we're near your thinking rock."
Hermione pointed towards the rock where they had reunited that term, with a smile. Peter couldn't help but respond to her sweet expression with a similar one, a small sigh escaping him, louder than he had expected.
The girl didn't get a response, as the students began moving toward the Portkey, separating the two Gryffindors.
The Portkey was a rather old, multicolored scarf. But it was practical, as it allowed the entire group to touch part of the fabric at the same time.
"Are you ready?" Edmund whispered beside him.
"Always, brother," Peter said, smiling, before whispering, "For Narnia..."
"And for Aslan."
The confident expression on Edmund's face was the last thing Peter saw before the world began to spin around him. The rocky ground disappeared beneath his feet, and he felt himself levitate before closing his eyes against the sensation of speed. After several confusing noises and movements, Peter opened his eyes again.
Using a Portkey always felt strange to him. Everything moved so fast, and so slowly at the same time, and somehow, nothing could detach his finger from the scarf. He was bound to it.
Everything ended with a crack. His feet touched the wooden floor softly.
He looked around, taking in the room after so much time. He was back in Kirke Mansion.
"It's just the same as always," Lucy whispered beside him.
"Yes..." Peter said, unable to find the words.
"It's a bit sad to think he's no longer here," said Susan, who had approached them.
They had left the headquarters several hours earlier. Before the sun appeared on the horizon, Robert and Helen Pevensie, accompanied by several members of the Order, had entered the mansion's gardens holding the piece of paper Albus Dumbledore had given them.
They had been in that main hall an hour before the students arrived.
"Remember," Helen had said, "the point is not to interact with them. We mustn't be seen. My children and Polly know what to look for."
"Understood, Helen," Remus Lupin had affirmed. "Shall we split up as we planned?"
"I don't think old Slug will arrive early; he's probably still sleeping in his bed," Robert had remarked. "But just in case, it's better if we take our positions, yes."
"Shouldn't someone secure the entrance?" Fred Weasley had asked.
"The professor's protective spells have weakened with his death, but they haven't broken; we would have noticed when we entered," Helen had said. "Unless someone familiar with the mansion has broken the spell for one of the Death Eaters, I don't think there's a problem, although maybe it's better if you and Tonks patrol the gardens."
"Yes," Robert had said. "I don't trust the McLaggens at all. Their loyalties tend to shift easily."
"As easily as a Galleon," Remus had said. "They could have been bought."
"Silence!" Hestia Jones had suddenly hissed. "I heard something."
Within seconds, they had all gathered at the entrance, forming a small circle to cover each other's backs, looking around the entire dining room.
"Homenum Revelio."
Helen's spell had been barely audible but firm. Shortly after she had lightly waved her wand, she had turned to her companions, terror on her face, and whispered:
"We are not alone."
Lucy didn't feel as confident in the mansion as she had anticipated. She thought that returning to the professor's house would make her feel like those months they spent living there, that summer. But it wasn't so. The moment her body left Hogwarts, she felt unprotected. Like someone stepping out of a warm place into the cold. Something didn't feel right in the house.
What was it that felt different? The house was the same. Perhaps a bit darker, and a bit dustier than she remembered. Could it be the absence of the professor?
"Everything alright, Lu?" Peter whispered as they walked down the hallway.
"I'm not sure," she said. "Everything feels... off..."
"I know..." he said. "Do you want me to come with you when we split up from the group?"
"No, you need to go to the study," she whispered. "Mom and Dad are here, hiding. They must have already secured the perimeter."
"I don't feel at ease," he said.
"I've fought in worse battles, little brother," she said with a half-smile before imitating him. "I don't like being treated like a child."
"Alright," Peter said, smiling. "You're right. You can handle yourself, no doubt about that."
Slughorn had already started his speech about the house and its history, in the most boring way possible. Lucy and her siblings, who knew the fascinating history of the structure and grounds, would have been scandalized at how the professor explained it, had they been paying attention. But they weren't. They couldn't afford to be distracted by something so trivial.
Edmund was the first to break away from the group. It didn't take much. He simply bent down to "tie" his shoes near one of the armors on the first floor, then slipped behind it as soon as the group had moved several meters ahead. Lucy watched him with a smile.
Susan was next. She didn't need much of an excuse to disappear. She just took advantage of one of Hermione Granger's questions during the professor's explanation in one of the drawing rooms to vanish behind the students in the last row. As if nothing had happened.
Polly distracted Slughorn in the next room, recounting her first visit to the house in her childhood. The students finally felt entertained by the professor's captivating anecdotes, and no one noticed as Peter slipped behind a tapestry.
When her moment came, Lucy didn't hesitate. The group started walking down one of the narrower hallways of the house, and she stayed at the back, slipping into one of the open doors.
She smiled as she took in the room. To the eyes of almost anyone else, it would have been just a vacant room, but not to her. She approached the wall where, if one got very close, a mark on the wood could be seen.
The mark of a wardrobe that had stood there for many years. Lucy smiled, gently caressing the wall. For a moment, she felt at peace again. There, in the place where it had all begun.
She closed her eyes. She almost thought she could hear the old door creaking open again, feel the cold breeze brushing her cheeks. The scent of pine and the distant glow of a lamppost.
When she opened her eyes again, something caught her attention. Looking at the floor, she bent down slightly and saw something most common, but which caused a small twist of emotion in her stomach.
Amid the dust on the floor, Lucy Pevensie found a small splinter. Could it be from the wardrobe that once stood in this room? It could be, but it might not be either. The house was made of large, old materials, many of them various types of wood.
But something told her that this wood was not of this world. Something in its feel, as she held it in her hand. Something felt different, yet terribly familiar at the same time.
She decided to tuck it away in her small bag, hiding it in a secret pocket, as if it were the greatest treasure in the world.
Crack.
The sound of the wooden floor on the other side of the hallway startled her. She stepped away from the door as quietly as she could. There was nowhere to hide. She pressed her body against the wall.
It could be Peter, who had changed his mind and was looking for
her. Or a Slughorn student searching for the bathroom. Or perhaps a member of the Order coming out of hiding.
It could be anyone, or even no one. Wood sometimes creaks for no apparent reason.
She heard nothing more for several minutes. Just her steady breathing and the wind on the other side of the window. No more footsteps, no more sounds.
There came a point when she decided she had to leave the room and continue exploring. There was no point in staying cornered in that room.
Raising her wand, she adjusted her bag and slowly approached the door, still slightly ajar, and peeked out cautiously.
Nothing.
The hallway seemed empty. The day had grown even cloudier, and the dim light filtered through the windows onto the worn-out decor. A faun statue stared back at her. Bravely, Lucy stepped out into the hallway.
"There's nothing to fear," she whispered to herself. "Don't be silly, Lucy."
But perhaps, Lucy should have heeded her intuition. Or so she thought when, several seconds later, after having turned around to head towards the nearest stairs, she heard the floor creak again, this time several times, unmistakably.
Someone had stopped in the middle of the hallway to observe her. But Lucy didn't leave it to chance. With a swift move, honed in a thousand battles, the youngest Pevensie spun around quickly, wand in hand, and the spell ready on her lips.
Her eyes widened as she saw the figure in the hallway. Her lips parted, but not to cast a spell, but to let out a gasp. Her complexion grew even paler than usual.
"It can't be," Lucy Pevensie whispered.
Polly Plummer was listening to every sound. With great effort, she tried to discern every distant murmur from the voices of the students around her. But she was uneasy.
There was no sign of Helen in the kitchen. Nor of Robert in the vicinity of the main living room. Nor of any other member of the Order.
They must be hiding, yes. But she should have been able to detect their presence, as they had agreed. And yet, the spell was bouncing back on her, indicating that they were not in their positions.
She began to fear for the Pevensies as she moved through the rooms. Something wasn't right. Something was wrong.
"Horace," she said, approaching the professor, "you must stay here with the students for a moment. I need to check something."
"Is everything alright, Polly?" he asked.
"That's what I want to find out," the woman said. "You need to stay here. No one leaves this room. The Pevensies are already outside, following my orders. You need to watch over the others, alright?"
The man's eyes widened, but he nodded at his colleague's instructions. Without wasting a second, Polly left the noise of the students behind and ventured back into the hallways.
"Socius revelio," she muttered repeatedly. "Homenum revelio."
Nothing happened. The second spell detected that there were more presences in the house, but the first, which was supposed to detect her companions within a room, bounced back. Or it did until the woman approached the attic door.
Heat coursed through her arm in response to her charm, causing the woman to turn towards the rusty door beneath the last flight of the elegant staircase.
The door was tightly closed.
She tried to open it, unsuccessfully. Magic didn't seem to work either. It was locked, enchanted. But the magic was recent; she could feel it. Someone had sealed that door not long ago.
Fortunately, she wasn't just an old woman trying to open a door. Many years ago, a little girl had entered that basement, accompanied by her best friend, through small secret passages.
Her memory didn't fail her. She climbed the steps as quickly as her legs allowed and entered the first room on the first floor, using her wand to move the bookshelf, revealing a secret passage with stairs.
"Thank you, Digory," she whispered with a small smile as she descended the steps.
The basement was dark, and even more eerie compared to how the old woman remembered it. But Polly Plummer wasn't one to be easily frightened. With firm steps, she finished descending the stairs.
She heard the dripping of water and the echoes of her own footsteps resonating against the walls. She observed the old furniture piled up against the walls, next to the small windows that let in thin lines of light from the top of the room.
Something moved behind her.
Polly Plummer turned, with much more agility than one would expect for her age. Ready to fight, she spun around to observe the figure emerging from the shadows.
"Polly!" the woman exclaimed. "It's me, Helen, relax."
"Helen..." she said with a smile but didn't forget to verify her identity with a wave of her wand.
The two women embraced in the dark basement.
"The others are further in," Helen said. "We were trying to find a way out."
"How did you end up in here?" Polly asked.
Helen's expression darkened.
"The house wasn't empty, Polly," she said, gripping the woman's shoulder. "The children aren't safe. There's someone roaming these halls. They led us here, trapped us..."
"Did you see their face?"
"No..." Helen said. "They move quietly. They know the house."
Another noise echoed in the room. Probably caused by one of the Order members, but it was enough to startle the women.
"We're not alone in this mansion, Polly."