Severe Punishment
"Before you go in..." Chiara said nervously, "Ben asked to see you, but he also made a lot of, er, strange proclamations. We believe he's experiencing some sort of delirium. Don't do anything that might rattle him—he's in a very delicate state right now."
"We'll be careful," Maya said. "We won't hurt him." She pushed her way into the hospital wing, eager to see her friend.
Ben was sitting up on his bed, swatting away Madam Pomfrey's wand weakly. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his blonde hair was dirty and dishevelled, but he was awake.
"No, I-I..."
Auror Shacklebolt was already present, though he was keeping his distance. He noticed Maya and Rowan and gave them a slight nod.
"Mr Copper, please," Madam Pomfrey said through gritted teeth. She looked up at the sound of the door closing. "Miss Shafiq! Miss Khanna!"
Ben jolted as if someone had zapped him, knocking over a few sweets that had been stacked around a small calendar on the bedside table. "...M-Maya? Rowan?" He tried to get up, but Madam Pomfrey wrestled him back into bed.
Maya ran up to her friend. "Ben!" A tiny spark seemed to flicker in his eyes as she got closer. He had bandages peeking out of his sleeves, his cheeks were sunken and discoloured, and he was shivering like a dry leaf. Despite that, seeing him alive (albeit not what you'd call "well") brought a very real smile to Maya's face.
"Hi, Ben." Rowan cracked a smile too. "How are you feeling?"
"C-cold," said Ben with chattering teeth. "Tired. Sore. Confused. Terrified. ...Not that different from usual, to be honest. Wh-what happened?"
"You were frozen solid, Ben," said Maya. "Trapped in cursed ice."
Ben looked even more confused than before. "Like... the ice in the trophy room from last year?"
"Uh-huh."
Rowan nodded helpfully. "You asked to see us?"
Ben blinked his large eyes. "Did I? I feel like I'm losing it..." He looked around, focusing on the small pile of get-well-soon sweets. He reached for a Sugar Quill...
...and brushed it aside to grasp at the calendar instead.
"No way... Please tell me this is a joke. This is just someone's idea of a really bad joke..." He flipped back two months on the calendar, seeing that all of September had been crossed out. "It's November?"
Maya's face fell. "Oh no."
"I was out for over two months?!"
"Oh no."
Rowan's eyes widened. "Ben, what's the last thing you remember?"
"Er..." Ben's eyes flickered back and forth. "It's all rather hazy, but I remember Dumbledore's speech in the Great Hall... Then there was the feast... And then..."
Maya leaned in expectantly. "And then?"
"I told Corey I'd catch up with him... And now I'm here." Ben exhaled, shuddering slightly. "It's really been two months?"
Neither Maya nor Rowan knew how to respond to that, so they just nodded listlessly until someone broke the silence.
"Ahem." The tall Black wizard coughed just loudly enough to remind the students of his presence.
"Oh! Ben, this is Auror Shacklebolt," Maya introduced her friend to the tall wizard enthusiastically. "He's, er, here to help us."
Ben's eyes scanned Auror Shacklebolt nervously. "Hello," he said.
"Hello, Ben." The Auror's tone was even slower and deeper than it had been when speaking with Maya and Rowan; he was being careful. "As Maya said, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I'm the lead Auror on this missing persons case. Would it be alright if you answered some questions for me?"
"Of course," Ben replied shakily.
Auror Shacklebolt conjured a chair for himself and took a seat. "You have my thanks. I understand you've lost your memory?"
Ben's bandaged hands fidgeted with his bedsheets. "I-I think so. But I still remember some things—like our first year at Hogwarts," he said. "Maybe not everything, just... a normal amount. I remember my friends, the professors, what we learned in class..." Ben frowned, "...except for History of Magic."
"Since Professor Binns is still teaching, that's perfectly normal," said Auror Shacklebolt reassuringly. "What about your life outside of Hogwarts? Do you remember your summer holiday?"
"Yes, I was home with my mum and dad," said Ben as if it were obvious. It would have been, under normal circumstances.
Auror Shacklebolt's expression didn't change in the slightest. "Alright... Ben, what did you do? Can you describe a specific activity?"
"Yeah, I—"
Ben froze as a horrible realisation dawned on him.
"I... don't remember." He brought his hands up to his head as if trying to pull out his memory. "I... I know I was at home, but I don't remember it..."
Maya inclined her head. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"It's the difference between semantic and episodic memory," said Rowan. "Semantic memory is remembering facts, ideas, concepts, names, et cetera. Episodic memory, on the other hand, is the recollection of past events and experiences. I think Ben's episodic memory was affected, but not his semantic memory."
Maya was confused and Auror Shacklebolt was mildly impressed, but Ben didn't seem to have heard Rowan at all.
"Mum and Dad... Where are they? Shouldn't they be here?"
Sadness flickered across Auror Shacklebolt's face. Maya bit her lip and shared a look with Rowan—she'd hoped that they wouldn't have to break the news.
"Ben... we don't know where your parents are," said Maya. "They're missing."
"T-then I might not ever see them again?" Ben asked, grief-stricken. "I can't even remember their faces, and now they're gone?!"
"Oi!" Maya surged forward angrily, startling Rowan and even Auror Shacklebolt. "They're missing, but that doesn't mean they're gone forever! We'll find them!"
Despite his eyes brimming with tears, Ben didn't flinch. "Isn't that just what you want to believe—that Jacob is coming back?!" he snapped back at her with equal anger.
"Enough!" An invisible force pushed Maya away from Ben, making her land hard on her back. Madam Pomfrey had her wand pointed at them, and she was positively fuming. "Miss Shafiq, this is a hospital wing! If you cannot control your emotions—"
"I'm sorry," Maya said quickly. She'd been clenching her fists so tight that her fingers ached.
"Me too," added Ben. He seemed to be shrinking back into his bed. "Maya was only trying to help. I shouldn't have said, y'know, that. I'm really, really sorry."
Madam Pomfrey huffed. "Alright. But if you have another outburst like that, Miss Shafiq, I will have you forcefully removed from the hospital wing!"
Rowan glanced between her friends awkwardly. "So, er..."
"As Maya said, we at the Auror office are doing our very best to find your parents, Ben." Auror Shacklebolt ended the awkward silence, ignoring what had just happened. "Though I must say, finding them is my job. We have evidence that you were being threatened." He handed Ben the burnt note from R, though it was encased in clear glass for protection.
Ben picked it up gingerly. "Failure... Severe punishment... R? What is this?"
"I found it in the Gryffindor common room fireplace," said Maya. "Guess where we found you."
Ben blinked. "What were you doing in our—never mind. The, what was it, east end corridor on the fifth floor?"
"Yep."
Auror Shacklebolt nodded. "As such, there is little doubt that your disappearance is connected to R. Given that you have no recollection of this period, I believe that R might also be responsible for your loss of memory."
"And Ben's not the only one with altered memories!" Rowan exclaimed. "The family in the Coppers' last known residence said that they'd lived there for five years, but that should be impossible!"
Maya gasped. "And the neighbours said they didn't remember Ben or his family!"
The corners of Auror Shacklebolt's mouth twitched. "Yes, they all seemingly had their memories altered. By an expert, too. R is likely the culprit behind both Ben's disappearance and his parents'."
Maya and Rowan beamed. Even though they already had their suspicions, it was nice to have Auror Shacklebolt come to the same conclusion using new evidence.
"See? We've got a lead already," Maya whispered. Ben finally smiled back at her. "All we have to do is keep investigating, and I'm sure we'll be able to narrow down a list of possible suspects!"
"All I have to do is keep investigating," said Auror Shacklebolt as he raised his finger. "The evidence points to R being intelligent and highly skilled, and you are still underage. I will not allow a group of children to go after a dangerous criminal."
Maya gave the wizard her best puppy-dog eyes. "Please, sir? Can't we help with your investigation?"
"Absolutely not."
"Dammit. Guess that only works on Jacob."
Even though Auror Shacklebolt had forbidden the kids from investigating the case, that wasn't enough to stop them. Maya had suggested trying to determine how much of Ben's memory was gone, so they enlisted the help of Professor Quirrell. The Muggle Studies professor had prepared a quiz that would be an absolute cakewalk for Muggle-borns, even without any studying. Maya and Rowan (being naturally curious) were sitting next to Ben, watching him sail through the quiz with ease.
It had an unexpected side effect, though. Maya had enough self control to withstand the instinct to blurt out answers, but...
"What is the main difference between Muggle pictures and magical ones?" asked Professor Quirrell.
Easy question!
Maya tackled Rowan in an instant, covering her mouth and pinning down her hands so she couldn't raise them.
"Muggle pictures don't move," said Ben blankly, ignoring the Slytherin scuffle behind him. "Or at least the ones on paper don't."
"A perfect answer!" Professor Quirrell applauded politely. "Muggles do have things called movies, but those can only show a set of predetermined motions. Now, these next few questions have images to go with them." He flicked his wand, summoning a small board from the pile on a nearby stool. He turned it over and asked, "What is the name of this Muggle artefact?"
Maya and Rowan stopped wrestling to squint at the bulky metallic box with a grey rectangular part in the middle. Not an easy question...
"That's a television," Ben answered. "Sometimes called a telly. You can see those movies on them," he added.
Professor Quirrell beamed. "And this one?" He flipped another board. Maya and Rowan stared in confusion, because the Muggle artefact just looked like a slightly different "telly-vision" thingamabob.
"That's a computer."
"How can you tell the difference?" Maya asked.
Ben pointed at the image. "Computers have keyboards—the thing at the bottom. And they're meant to go on desks, not floors."
Professor Quirrell chuckled. "Alright, next question."
This time, five boards flew up, levitating in midair for a second before turning around simultaneously. Each of them bore a number and a picture of a person wearing a strange combination of clothes.
"Which one of these five people is a Muggle?"
"Number two," Ben replied instantly.
"Correct again!" Professor Quirrell exclaimed. The people on the boards gave a round of applause.
"Really?" Rowan wiped her glasses and took another look. "I thought it was number three."
Ben shook his head. "Number three is wearing too many belts."
"Number one is wearing a skirt, which you said Muggle men don't usually wear," Maya mused. "And number four is wearing a cloak. But what's wrong with number five?"
"Too many ruffles. A Muggle wouldn't wear that."
Rowan giggled. "I doubt a wizard would wear that either. It's so old-fashioned!"
"I like ruffles," said Maya with a pout. "Maybe not enough to wear that many, but I still think they're pretty."
The rest of the Muggle culture quiz went off without a hitch. Ben got every single question right without any difficulty while Maya was consistently stumped.
"Brilliant job, Mr Copper," said Professor Quirrell happily. "If this were an exam, I'd give you one hundred and ten percent."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Oh, please. I just hope I was of help to you," said the wizard nonchalantly.
Rowan beamed. "Of course you were, Professor! From this test, we can assume that Ben maintained approximately eighty percent of his semantic memory at minimum, and that Maya knows almost nothing about Muggle culture."
"Oh, come on! How do you even recognise all those doohickeys?!"
Professor Quirrell smiled. "Take Muggle Studies next year, and I'll teach you all about those 'doohickeys'." With that promise, he left the hospital wing.
Rowan rubbed her chin, jotting down notes on a bit of spare parchment. "Well, we've tested Ben's semantic memory, so we should try testing episodic memory now."
"And how do we do that?" asked Maya curiously. "Do we check if Ben remembers big incidents from last year?"
Ben winced. "Like nearly getting killed by Devil's Snare? Because I remember that. And Maya having that duel with Merula..."
"It was super satisfying when I managed to sock her in the face!" Maya exclaimed, punching the air vigorously.
"I was actually thinking of how you had a pair of giant antlers, and all that blood running down your..." Ben gestured at the area around his eyes.
"Oh." Maya lowered her fists. "Yeah, I didn't like being blind. But hey, now I don't have to worry about that!" She tapped her goggles for emphasis.
"Ahem," Rowan coughed. "Back to the topic at hand... A key property of episodic memory recollection is a connection to the self. Why don't we try asking Ben things about himself? For instance... Ben, what's your favourite class?"
"My favourite class?" Without hesitation, Ben replied, "Charms."
Rowan nodded earnestly. "That's right!"
"Ooh!" Maya's eyes lit up as she got an idea. "I know, what's your favourite food?"
Ben paused to think for a moment. "Chips? Did... did you ask this before?"
"Yeah, I wanted to try making my mates' favourite foodstuffs," said Maya. "And your favourite sweet?"
"Er... Treacle fudge? Or was it toffee?"
"It was toffee last time, but you also mentioned that you really like treacle in general. Don't ask me how Penny found out, though."
Ben chuckled. "Well, she's Penny. She knows everything about everyone."
Maya and Rowan both laughed at that.
"Ha ha ha ha ha... Alright, Ben, when's your birthday?"
"..."
"Ben?"
The blonde Gryffindor boy had a pained look on his face.
"Well, that's an odd, random thing to forget," Rowan said awkwardly.
Ben cringed. "Yeah... When is my birthday?"
"..."
"Guys?"
"We don't know," Rowan said. "You never mentioned it, and we never saw you celebrating either."
"...Oh." Ben looked down, twiddling with his thumbs. "I see."
Maya huffed. "Argh! Mark my words, I'll have a magnificent batch of treacle fudge ready by Christmas! Or treacle toffee! Or both!"
Ben smiled in a saddened, lopsided way that was reminiscent of Felix Rosier. "Just fudge is fine."
"Fudge it is, then!"
"Do you even know how to make fudge?" Rowan asked.
"No, but I'll figure it out!"
"You only have six weeks to make this 'magnificent' batch."
"I'll figure it out!"
The frost on the windows was refracting sunlight, casting patterns across the cold stone walls of the hospital wing. Ben fiddled with his hands, rubbing his thumbs against his bandages. A few of them slipped, momentarily revealing glimpses of greyish frostbitten skin.
Ben sighed. "What happens if my parents aren't found?"
"We're doing everything we can to avoid that situation, Ben," Rowan said calmly.
"I know, but what if we can't? ...Where am I supposed to go?"
Ben gave Maya a nervous glance, probably thinking of her outburst from earlier. But Maya wasn't going to start yelling again. She didn't like it, but she knew where his words were coming from. He was preparing for the worst.
"...In that scenario, I suppose you'd probably go to Fawley's," Rowan said after a moment of contemplation.
"Fawley's?"
"It's kind of like an orphanage, except Mr Fawley takes in more than just orphans," said Maya. "A lot of people had nowhere to go due to the war, so Mr Fawley started taking them in. He used to be one of our best customers," she added. "We got orders every Sunday."
Ben looked at her curiously. "'Got'? What happened?"
"Jacob. He read Rita Skeeter's article and decided to cut ties." Getting back on topic, Maya added, "If you want to know more about Fawley's, we could always ask..."
"Felix, you already double-checked that essay," Yekaterina chided, pushing away the lantern hovering above Felix's parchment. "There's no need to triple-check it. And besides, why do you even need to know about fwooper distribution? You're studying to be a—"
"Dragonologist, I know," Felix said impatiently, flicking his wand to summon back the lantern. "And don't make me question why I'm even doing this. I only just got over the last crisis."
"Yes, and I loved watching you have a philosophical meltdown about the meaning of life and existence. It was hilarious."
Felix scowled. "Don't you have your own essay to get to?"
"Just let me procrastinate for a bit longer. I'll get to the cultural significance of disco music later."
"Do it now, or I'll Confund you into taking your O.W.L.s again."
Yekaterina gasped dramatically. "You wouldn't!"
With perfect timing, Maya and Rowan barged into the Slytherin common room. "Felix! Yekaterina! We've got to ask you something!"
"Sorry, we're a little busy right now."
But Yekaterina snatched his essay and held it high above her head. "No we're not. What do you need?"
Maya and Rowan watched as Felix stood on his toes and reached for the parchment, but Yekaterina was wearing some impressive heels. She waved it around just out of his reach until Felix pulled his wand on her.
"Confundo!"
Yekaterina's face went blank. Then, she checked her wristwatch and made a face of pure terror. "Oh, shit, I've only three hours left. Sorry!" She dropped the essay on fwooper distribution and sprinted away.
Felix picked up his essay and huffed. "Confunding her into thinking it's Thursday should do it. I swear, I'm the only reason she finishes half her homework..."
"Er... Felix?"
Felix looked at the second-years, then at his essay, then back to the second-years. He must have decided that Yekaterina had a point, because he rolled up the parchment, put it away, and leaned on the desk with a sigh.
"Alright, I guess I can spare a few minutes. What do you need? Please don't say 'Yekaterina', because she's going to be pissed if I lift the spell right now."
"Actually, we wanted to ask about Fawley's," said Rowan. "What's it like?"
Felix raised an eyebrow. "Fawley's? It's... fine, I suppose. It grows on you, and the food is good. What prompted this? Did you get into a spat with Talbott Winger or something?"
Maya lowered her chin just enough to hide her eyes beneath the brim of her hat. "Uhh... just curious."
"Right. You randomly became 'just curious' about Fawley's," Felix said dryly. He crossed his arms, but didn't press any further. "...Anyway, Mr Fawley is pleasant enough. But he lost his husband and child during the war, so he gets the occasional bout of depression like everybody else. Yekaterina, Mr Fawley, and I do most of the talking there while Orion has his head in the clouds and the others chime in with a grunt or a dry quip. Personally, I much prefer it here."
"I see..." Maya muttered, slowly tapping her finger against her lip. It sounded awkward for Felix and Yekaterina to live with people who lost their families to Death Eaters.
Felix uncrossed his arms and let out a sigh. "The first few days are the hardest, but it gets better with time. Whenever a newcomer arrives, it takes a while for them to settle in. Welcoming them is difficult, since they're usually still grieving. They still need to process and accept their loss. But over time, we get to know each other, and become something of a family."
Maya's finger rested on her lower lip. So it was all about acceptance...
"Look, I won't pretend that coming to Fawley's is a good thing. Having no family to go to is horrible no matter how you look at it," Felix said. "In a better world, a place like Fawley's wouldn't need to exist. But for what it's worth, it's not bad."
With Madam Pomfrey's orders that Ben never leave her sight unless absolutely necessary, the hospital wing had turned into an unofficial study hall for Maya and her friends. Although it wasn't designed to accommodate studying students like the library, there were some upsides to make up for it. For one, Madam Pomfrey was significantly more lenient than Madam Pince.
The first weekend of December finally rolled around, bringing heavy snowfall that made the weather finally match the state of the castle. The temperature continued to drop, even though Maya was growing numb to the cold. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey allowed the use of her magical heating devices that made it a bit more bearable.
The group of second-years were huddled around a small desk that Maya had carried from a nearby classroom, revising what they had learned. Ben was studying vigorously to make up for all the classes he had missed (mostly because he was terrified of the idea of being held back a year).
"And next up... Snape's teaching us how to brew Fire Protection Potion," said Rowan.
Ben looked up from his copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. "Fire Protection Potion? Isn't Swelling Solution supposed to come next? I mean—" he flipped over to the table of contents, "—Fire Protection Potion isn't even in the book."
Rowan nodded. "That's right. We're learning Fire Protection Potion early so that Professor Quirrell can safely teach us the Fire-Making Spell. Now that the ice is immune to the Knockback Jinx, the Fire-Making Spell is at the top of our priority list."
"How did that happen, by the way?" Tonks wondered aloud. "Why did the Knockback Jinx suddenly stop working?"
"Well, Professor Snape said that the curse evolved and adapted to it," said Maya. "Like a virus would to a vaccine." She tried to make it sound like she understood what that meant, even though she really had no clue.
Ben shuddered. "That makes it sound more like some kind of alien lifeform rather than an ancient curse... I'm not sure which is worse."
"...Hey, that rhymes!" Penny chirped, but her cheeriness was a bit forced.
Suddenly, the door burst open, loudly slamming against the wall.
"What the—Auror Shacklebolt!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.
"My apologies, Madam Pomfrey," Auror Shacklebolt said uncharacteristically quickly. "And you have my further apologies, because I must ask you to empty the hospital wing momentarily."
"Excuse me?" The matron looked scandalised, but she seemed to fold under the wizard's stern gaze. "Oh, alright. Dears," she said, gesturing for the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins to follow her.
Maya hastily stuffed her things into her mokeskin bag and was about to leave when Auror Shacklebolt added, "It would be better if Maya and Rowan could stay, actually."
Madam Pomfrey looked a bit confused about that request, as did Penny and Tonks, but they left the hospital wing anyway.
"What is it, sir?" Maya asked.
"I was doing one last sweep of the castle before returning to the Auror Office to file a status report," said Auror Shacklebolt. He reached into his cloak and brought out a small phial, placing it down with a clink. "I found this."
Ben stared at the glass container and the orange liquid inside. "What is it?"
Rowan gasped. "It's a Memory Potion! Sometimes, dark wizards drink Forgetfulness Potions so that they can't give information," she explained to a confused Ben. "But Memory Potions can reverse the effects of a Forgetfulness Potion, so they'd also prepare one in advance. They're also forbidden in Hogwarts."
"So you know who the culprit is?!" Maya asked excitedly.
Auror Shacklebolt's expression was forlorn. "Not quite. I found this potion under a false bottom in your trunk, Ben. It was very well hidden," he added.
"Wait, what?" Rowan blinked. "Ben had a Memory Potion?"
"Why would I have a Memory Potion?" Ben asked.
Auror Shacklebolt pushed the phial towards him. "Perhaps you can tell us. I've tested it for every poison known to wizardkind—it's perfectly safe. Will you drink it?"
Ben looked at the phial with wide eyes. His hands were trembling, but he grasped the phial. "...Alright."
As Ben pulled out the stopper, Maya noticed Auror Shacklebolt's eyes narrowing. She looked down and saw his hand moving towards something on his belt. The Auror's fingers tightened around his wand just as Ben brought the phial to his lips.
Ben downed the potion in one gulp. Maya and Rowan waited with bated breath.
Ben blinked.
He set down the phial.
He blinked again.
"Nothing happened," he said sadly. "I still don't remember anything about my parents or what happened while I was missing."
Auror Shacklebolt removed his hand from his wand. "...Very well. I'll make my leave—try not to cause any trouble."
Chester Davies was standing guard outside the east end corridor. Well, sitting guard. He'd brought a chair from somewhere and had placed it right in front of the door. Not that it made much of a difference. Maya silently waited in position for Rowan to execute the first step of their plan.
And there it was. The faint blue light of a Wand-Lighting Charm shimmered at the end of the corridor, along with the sound of slowly approaching footsteps.
Chester noticed it too. He got up from his chair, drew his wand, and headed for the source of the light.
He wasn't prepared for Maya to jump him, spritzing him in the face with her perfume bottle.
"Brilliant work, Maya!" Rowan gave her a thumbs-up at the sight of Chester propped back on his chair. "He's going to wake up and think he just dozed off!"
"Well, let's hurry and get past him before he does," said Maya. After expertly unlocking the door, the Slytherins slipped into the east corridor.
The professors' Fire-Making Spells had melted the large formations of ice from last time, but there was a thick layer of white frost and ice covering the corridor instead. The icicles still hung from the braziers, so the corridor looked even colder than before, illuminated only by the moon and the bluish glow of the ice.
"Watch your step," Maya warned. She added small spikes to the soles of her boots. "One slip and we could end up like Ben."
"I think he's hiding something." Rowan frowned. "He had a Memory Potion, he lost his memory, but drinking it didn't do anything? That's just hard to believe. He might just be afraid of whoever sent those instructions, or he might be trying to protect us..."
Maya took a careful step forward, making note of the glowing patches of ice. "Or both," she offered. "Him being afraid of R is a given, memory or no memory. I don't know what to believe, but there's no denying that something's not right. We need to figure out what's really going on..." She opened her bag, fishing around for Yekaterina's binder. "Let's see... Revelio."
Rowan sighed. "I'm sure Auror Shacklebolt already found everything that can be found with Revelio and all of its variations."
"Well, perhaps he missed something," Maya said stubbornly. "There has to be a reason why R wanted Ben here..."
"Hmm." Rowan stared at a patch of ice. "Fascinating!" she exclaimed. "If you stare at the ice for long enough, you can see it slowly spreading!"
Maya sidestepped another bit of glowing ice. So far, the corridor was eerily cold, but empty. There wasn't really much of note. She looked up, noting the long streak of frost that stretched across the wall.
"You know, the trophy room would be right over there," she said, pointing at a large patch of ice and frost on the ceiling. "But," she drew a straight line from the ice to the wall, right between two braziers, "there's nothing here."
Rowan rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, back in the trophy room, all of the ice was coming from the floor. There might be a connection..." She placed her hand between the two braziers and pressed herself against the wall. "I don't see any signs of a hidden room, though."
Maya couldn't shake the feeling that she was on the right track. While Rowan investigated the floor, Maya took a closer look at the wall, frost crunching softly below her feet.
It felt... familiar. Something from her home.
Maya removed her gloves, stuffed them in her bag, and started feeling for more clues. There was a slight nook in the stone, just like from all those times she'd felt between the bricks, trying to figure out how the wall opened and closed... She started knocking on the wall.
"...Maya, what are you doing?" asked Rowan. "Are you checking if it's hollow?"
"There's no indicator," Maya muttered, tapping her finger on her lip. "No bricks to use as guidelines..."
"What are you talking about?"
Maya didn't hear her. She tried rapping her wand against the wall, but nothing happened. If only there was a lock... Then I could just pick it. ...Though if there was a lock, we'd just use—
"Rowan." Maya held out her hand. "Knife."
"Sorry?"
"Your knife, the one you got over the summer."
"Oh!" Rowan handed her the blade. "Here."
Maya held the knife in one hand, feeling the wall with the other. Her fingers found the nook, and she positioned the blade, lifting it high above her head.
And she plunged it into the wall.
"Huh?!" Rowan fixed her glasses, but the knife was still embedded up to the hilt. "How...?"
Maya grasped the hilt with both hands and pulled it down, cutting a crevice through the wall. The cold stone split apart to reveal glowing strings falling away, having been cut down the middle. They had been holding an archway together, keeping it hidden from sight. And beyond that archway was an icy staircase with thick fog rolling down the steps.
Rowan gasped. "A Spatial Pocket!? No wonder Auror Shacklebolt missed that! I bet you'd have to live your whole life in Diagon Alley to notice!"
"It's not just any Spatial Pocket," Maya breathed. "This must be what R's after—the Vanished Stairs."