The Labyrinth of Amagor

The Labyrinth of Amagor

Chapter 3: Into the Labyrinth

The others waited patiently until Harry had finished his telepathic conversation with Professor Xavier. He explained to them what was happening, concluding, "So, Dumbledore will know we're in here, soon. If there's any way to get us out, he'll find it! The best thing we can do is to wait here."

It seemed, however, that the Labyrinth, or whoever controlled it, had other ideas. The ceiling of the chamber they were in began to descend again after a few minutes. At the same time, the door into the Labyrinth proper swung wide. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny ran back to the element symbols, only to discover that they, and the circle with the marks, had vanished.

"Obviously, we're not meant to hang around here," said Hermione.

"Oh, Hell," groaned Harry, "everybody out."

They retreated to a wide, well-lit corridor, moving into the formation Harry had suggested earlier. The door closed behind them with a firm thud. Seamus tried it and found it locked. As he pressed his ear to the panels, he heard the rumble as the ceiling returned to its original height. Lying in wait for the next batch, Seamus thought grimly.

The corridor twisted and curved for no apparent reason, and Harry soon discovered that it was almost impossible to remain in visual range of both Hermione and Neville in front and Ron and Seamus behind. The passage also had an odd echo that didn't affect conversation, but made it hard to understand a shout. Thankfully, the communicators seemed to work properly, so the three parts of the group could keep in touch.

As Harry walked along beside Ginny, the cold anger that had driven him this far drained away, replaced by a familiar but unpleasant sensation. Once again, his life had been hijacked and sent in a direction he hadn't wanted. Worse, people he cared about were going into danger with him. If any of his friends were to be hurt or, God forbid, killed in this Labyrinth, Harry didn't know what he would do. It would be his fault, again!

Dumbledore, Lupin, Hermione, Ron, Kitty, Xavier, Ginny and Molly Weasley (whom Harry had finally realised loved him as much as any of her own kids), had all tried to persuade him that he couldn't shoulder every burden. Patiently, practically, lovingly or even angrily, each of them had argued that Harry was not responsible for the death of Cedric Diggory or the loss of Sirius Black.

Harry knew better. Both times, he had been where he should not have been. He should have refused to participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament even if it meant leaving Hogwarts in shame. If he had not been there, Voldemort's plot would have been dead in the water, and Cedric would not have been killed. And Harry shouldn't have allowed himself to be manipulated into going to the Ministry of Magic a year ago. If he hadn't been so reckless, Sirius wouldn't have come to rescue him only to be lost beyond the Veil. Those choices--and the dire results--were Harry's fault, and his alone.

Now Voldemort had reached out and placed his cold hands on the one thing that still mattered to Harry. With no family or home, all Harry had were his friends--and Voldemort knew it. Once again, Harry was tempted to cut himself off from everyone, to go far away and never return.

But then he felt Ginny's arm tighten around him, and he became acutely aware of her body against his--her warmth, her softness and strength, her honeysuckle fragrance. How could he leave her, when they had only just found each other?

Ginny looked up into his face. "Don't, Harry."

"Don't what?"

"Run away. Go off and leave us all, or start to pretend you don't care, again. You were thinking it so loud I could almost hear you."

"How did you...?"

"I may not be a Legilimens, Harry, or a tele-whosit like Professor Xavier, but with you, I don't need to be. Not a day's gone by in the last five years when I haven't thought of you. I've watched you--learned you. Every line of your face, every look in your eye-every little movement: I know what you're thinking, Harry Potter!

"Look, if you try to flee, Voldemort will still come after you. How d'you think we'd feel, knowing you were facing him all by yourself with none of us there to help?

"But you won't go, Harry. I was dying once, until you came for me. You fought a monster, defeated a dark wizard--all for a little girl you'd barely noticed. The hero I worshipped then and the Harry I love now could never walk away from his friends."

Harry sighed, trying to frame a reply, when Hermione shrieked. There was a whirring, flapping sound, and the corridor was suddenly pitched into chaos. A cloud of dark...things squeaked and flew in dizzying zigzags. The air filled with a sour, musty smell and the yells and screams of the youngsters as they tried to fight the unknown assault.

Harry's glasses were knocked off-he couldn't tell by whom-and he dropped to his hands and knees, desperate to retrieve them before they were crushed. Then Ginny stumbled onto him; she wasn't big, but her seven stone was quite enough to knock the wind out of the unprepared Harry. He lay there gasping as the chittering sounds died away and the corridor fell silent.

He took stock of the situation. The Patil sisters were still hugging the wall, hands covering their faces. Seamus, who had been ducking and dodging the swarm, righted himself. Neville headed back to the group, supporting an obviously shaken Hermione. Luna held her wand up in front of her, blue fire flaring from the tip. "Bats!" she said thoughtfully. "It was just a bunch of bats. We should have expected them in a place like this."

Ron lay flat on his face a few feet away.

Harry sprang to Ron's side, remembering to breathe when his brawny friend rolled over and sat up. Ron looked dazed and his nose was bloody, but apart from that, he seemed OK. He gave Harry a rueful grin.

"Ouch! Fell over my own feet," Ron said sheepishly as he heaved himself upright.

Harry helped Ginny to stand. Ginny promptly put her arms around Harry's waist, asking, "Did I hurt you? Where did I land on you?"

"Pretty much everywhere, feels like," Harry admitted.

"Oh, good!" Ginny said impishly, eyes sparkling. She whispered, "Later, I can kiss it all better...."

Frowning with concern, Parvati went up to Ron. "Oh, your poor face! Here, let me...." She began fishing in a pocket for a tissue. Ron went crimson and stepped back a pace. "No, it's OK. I'm fine."

"Ron! You're hurt!" Hermione realised. She had recovered sufficiently to dash over to her boyfriend, who turned to her with evident relief. "It's nothing, love. I went a bit of a purler and smacked myself on the conk."

"Kneel down!" Hermione ordered. "I can't stretch all the way up there."

Obediently, Ron dropped to one knee in front of her. "While I'm down here, I might as well ask: Will you marry me?"

"Of course I'm going to marry you, Ronald, but not right now," Hermione responded practically. "Spit on this. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?" she fretted as she swabbed the blood off his face.

Luna noticed that Parvati was watching the pair with a slightly hurt and wistful expression in her dark eyes. Then Hermione, over Ron's shoulder, shot Parvati a look that came straight off the Polar ice cap.

So that's the way the land lies, is it? thought Luna. I admire your taste, Parvati, but your timing is dreadful!

Harry noticed something different. He was thinking what a Jekyll-and-Hyde character Hermione had become. Most of the time, she was the Hermione Granger they had known for years--a bossy know-it-all with the really annoying habit of being right more often than she was wrong. This Hermione was reserved, almost prim; she held Ron's arm or hand decorously when they walked together in public, giving him no more than the lightest peck on the cheek-though she ordered him about something terrible.

But, when there were just the four of them, another Hermione appeared. That Hermione was a tactile young woman, snuggly with Ron and affectionate to Harry and Ginny. Hermione's strident tones turned low and sweet, though she was also prone to making saucy, if not positively raunchy, comments and wisecracks.

Harry supposed everyone had a public and a private face-except Ginny, perhaps.

Neville, standing with his arms round Lavender, suddenly snorted with laughter. "Look at us! What a bunch of heroes! We can beat back raiding parties, rescue kids from enchanted forests, fight ten-foot metal men and rogue Mutants. But show us a flock of common bats, and we go all to pieces!"

The reaction was setting in now, so the hearty, if self-deprecating, laughter helped them get over it. When they had all settled down a little, they continued moving along the passageway, sticking together. "Fancy deployments are all very well when you know what you're up against," said Harry, "but I feel a lot better knowing you're all where I can see you."

Neville pointed out, "More like you being where we can see you. You're the one with the habit of getting into trouble, Harry."

Harry glared at his friend-he hadn't needed that reminder-but Neville just grinned disarmingly.

Lavender shook her head. "What this born diplomat of mine means, Harry, is that you're given to dashing off on your own into dangerous situations." She gave him a fierce glance, her eyes wet for some reason. "Have you never thought about how much that upsets us all? You're our friend, Harry, and we want to help. Try letting us, for once?"

Harry looked away. Hermione had said something similar to him at Xavier's. How come they could make him feel like a selfish idiot for trying to do the right thing? Maybe it wasn't the right thing. There was a new thought!

The corridor ended abruptly in a stone wall with an ordinary-looking wooden door. For some reason, this made them all more apprehensive than a more forbidding barrier would have.

"I don't like that door one bit!" stated Padma.

"Don't think any of us do, but the only way out is through," said Harry. "I'll take a look. Ron, Neville, cover me."

"If he kicks that door open and dives through it, I swear I'll kill him myself!" whispered Hermione to Ginny.

Harry might or might not have heard her, but he didn't kick the door. Ron and Neville took up positions on either side of it, wands ready. Harry inched open the door, then listened for a second, before pushing it wide. The room beyond was lit with a warm, yellow glow. Harry moved in cautiously, looking around him.

The room was large and square, with panelled walls. Along one wall were wooden tables and benches, like those in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The opposite wall held about a dozen curtained alcoves; the curtains were drawn back, showing that each alcove held a four-poster bed. What was this place?

Turning back to the door, Harry motioned his friends forward. "It's OK, for now--I think."

The others trooped in and stood looking about curiously. As they did so, there was a loud pop, and a small figure appeared in their midst. It was a House-Elf, a rather elderly and plump House-Elf wearing what seemed to be a yellow tabard. The creature looked at them, then focused on Harry and bowed low.

"Tully, young sir, servant to the great Lady Hufflepuff. Welcome to Sanctuary!"

"Sanctuary?" Harry repeated.

"Sanctuary, sir. The Labyrinth is testing and wearying. The Lady Hufflepuff herself decreed Sanctuary as a place where the young sirs and ladies might rest and eat. Tully looks after Sanctuary, young sir. The room knew you were weary, so it led you here. Tully will provide food, and then you may sleep safely."

Hermione pressed forward. "Lady Hufflepuff? Helga Hufflepuff? Tully, how long have you been here?"

"Tully does not know, young lady. Tully sleeps unless there are young sirs and ladies being tested in the Labyrinth."

"So, I was right! This is where young Wizards were tested," Hermione gloated.

"Yeah, yeah, Hermione," Harry said shortly, focusing on the House-Elf. "Tully, can you tell us about the rest of the Labyrinth? Specifically, do you know the quickest and safest way out?"

The House-Elf shook his head sadly. "Tully does not know, young sir. Tully is not permitted to leave Sanctuary.

"Here, now, is food!" he gestured, and suddenly the tables were laden. He pointed toward the far wall, where Harry now saw two more doors. "The appointments are there, so you may wash, and then sleep.

"When the first bell sounds, you must rouse. At the second bell, break your fast. At the third, you must leave Sanctuary.

"Tully will not see you again unless you must pass another night in the Labyrinth. Rest well, and good fortune for the morrow!" He vanished with another pop.

Harry turned to his friends. "Well? What do you think?"

"House Elves can't lie," Lavender pointed out. "We're safe here for a while. We might as well eat and sleep. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving and tired, and I could really do with spending a penny!"

There was general agreement, so it was decided to stay put for now, and to try to rest. The boys, led by Ron, advanced on the tables while most of the girls, with Lavender in front, headed toward the washrooms.

As the others moved off, Harry caught Hermione's arm, saying, "I'm sorry I snapped at you just then. I'm a bit tense and knackered."

Hermione smiled. "Harry, a year ago, it would never have occurred to you to apologise like that." She looked around; no one was watching, so she hugged him quickly. "We're all under pressure. Don't worry about it."

The food was plain but wholesome as anything at Hogwarts, and there was even enough even to satisfy Ron! They all felt a good deal better after eating.

Just as Harry came out of the washroom, a familiar 'voice' sounded in his head. He stood still, frowning with concentration.

Hawk?

Professor X?

Good. Now listen closely, Harry. I have informed Professor Dumbledore of your situation. It seems you are trapped in an ancient testing ground for young Wizards.

Yes, we found that out.

Ah. Well, Albus is researching ways to extract you and your friends. What has happened since we last spoke?

Harry and the Professor exchanged information. With a final admonition to be careful, Xavier severed the link.

Hermione watched Harry come out of his trance, asking, "You were hearing the Professor? Well? What did he have to say?"

"He told me that Dumbledore is looking for a way to get us out," Harry revealed. "I don't know if this is good or bad news, but it seems that we might have company in here; Rogue and her team are coming after us."

Neville grinned. "Now, why am I not surprised?"

Most of the others were delighted to hear that their brave and formidable American friends were on their way. Harry had mixed feelings--there would be more people in danger because of him--but he was nonetheless touched by the loyalty of the young Mutants. He shrugged, knowing Marie well enough to realise she was too much like him not to come running.

By now, they had all begun to feel sleepy, so by mutual consent, they headed off to bed. Seamus noted with quiet amusement that, while he, Luna and the Patils took one bed each, Neville and Lavender clearly intended to share one, as did Ron and Hermione.

Harry stayed at the table. He needed to think about tomorrow. Then he felt Ginny's presence behind him. She looped her arms round his neck and nuzzled his ear. "Come to bed. You won't accomplish anything, you know; you'll just sit and brood!"

He sighed, she was right, of course-she knew him so well! He got up, and let her lead him firmly to a bed next the one Ron and Hermione were using. As they passed, they heard Ron saying, "'Night, pet. Love you." There was the sound of a soft kiss and Hermione's sleepy voice replying, "Love you too, darling. Sleep tight."

Ginny chuckled. "They sound like an old married couple!"

They drew the curtain across the alcove and undressed to their underwear, then slipped into the bed. Harry said, "This'll be the first time we've actually slept together, Ginny. Sorry it's not what we planned...."

They had not yet made love properly, agreeing to wait until Ginny's sixteenth birthday, a few days from now. That had not stopped them from indulging as frequently as possible in prolonged and erotic love-play.

Ginny leaned over Harry asking, "Want to mess about a bit?"

"Oh, not tonight, love. I'm too tired and not really in the mood."

"Now we sound like an old married couple," Ginny mused, but she kissed Harry goodnight resignedly and snuggled down against him, wrapping his arms around her. Soon, her soft breathing told him she was asleep.

Harry lay awake a while, thinking, not about tomorrow, but about Ginny. Paradoxically, it had been Kitty who had awakened his feelings for Ginny. He had loved Kitty (still did, in a way), and she had aroused emotions in him he had never had the chance or the courage to face before. To his shock, a lot of those emotions centred around his best friend's sister. Harry had become aware of Ginny in a new way ever since she had started to date other boys; she was no longer the little girl who had so embarrassed him with her hero-worship.

Harry knew that Ginny, too, had changed while he was in America. Her transformation had something to do with another exchange student, the X-Man Peter Rasputin, with whom Ginny had had a brief romance.

When Harry returned to Hogwarts a week before the end of the spring term, he noticed a distinct difference in Ginny's attitude toward him. They were friends, but the friendship was more intense. Without realising it, they began to spend more time together. Came the Easter holiday, and Molly had insisted that Harry visit The Burrow. Ron was going to the Grangers, and somebody had to keep Ginny company. Besides, as far as Molly was concerned, Harry was family, and belonged at home with them.

Harry and Ginny had spent the break doing household chores, gardening and taking long walks in the countryside. It had been a lovely spring, the prelude to a glorious summer. One evening, Harry and Ginny walked to the top of a nearby hill and stood looking out over the country. Ginny sighed, and Harry turned to look at her. The westering sun caught her hair, causing it to blaze, and an errant breeze carried her scent of honeysuckle to him. At that moment, she was utterly precious and adorable.

She felt his gaze on her, and turned to look at him, her eyes darkly luminous.

A strand of hair blew across her face, and Harry reached out to stroke it away, then, unable to stop himself, he cupped her silky cheek in his palm. Her eyes glowed even more, as she pressed her face against his hand. She spoke softly. "Harry, if we start something, we have to see it through. This isn't just another fling for me, not with you. Promise me?"

"I promise," he breathed. "I'm yours for as long as you want me, Ginny."

She smiled then, and reached her arms out to him. He came to her, and sought her coral lips. The kisses seemed to go on forever as the sun sank below the horizon. They went back to The Burrow, arms around each other, as the stars were coming out. Molly looked at them, and didn't scold. She just put together a tray of sandwiches and tea, and left them alone in the living room. They went to bed late that night, and had been together ever since.

With those pleasant thoughts in his head, Harry drifted off to sleep.

A few beds away, Seamus listened with wry envy to the soft murmurs and smothered gasps that came from Neville and Lavender's bed. Well, they've not seen each other for a week or so, he thought. Then he turned over and went to sleep.

***

It couldn't have been three hours, Molly thought, since Minerva McGonagall had Flooed into The Burrow, waking her and Arthur from a deep sleep. The children had disappeared, gone off into trouble once again. She glanced at her clock - she had recently had extra hands fitted for Harry and Hermione-theirs, Ron's and Ginny's all pointed to MORTAL DANGER! Minerva had explained that, while they had been unable to leave a message, they had somehow managed to contact the Professor who ran the school in America.

Arthur left with Minerva. He had been due to go to Hogwarts anyway on some job for the Order, he wouldn't tell Molly what. Molly had wandered through the lonely house, unable to settle to anything.

Finally driven to distraction by an endless succession of mournful female voices emanating from the music machine, Molly had screwed her courage to the sticking point and approached the Muggle device. Fortunately, it seemed that Muggles had the habit of labelling each switch. Stop was easy. Eject followed, once she realised what it meant (she'd been expecting something to fly out, not just lift a lid). Molly had carefully plucked out the little silver disc and put it back into its brightly coloured case. That done, Molly sat about and worried some more, until Arthur's head appeared in the hearth.

"Molly?"

She knelt before the fireplace. "What is it, dear?"

"Listen, Dumbledore has had another talk with Professor Xavier. It seems that some friends the kids made in America are bound and determined to come over here to help look for them. The Americans should arrive in a Muggle aeroplane in a few hours. Can you look after the newcomers and take them to the ruin?"

"Well, I can, but do you think I should? I mean, put more kids in danger?"

"These aren't ordinary kids, Molly. In their way, they're as powerful as any Wizard. Minerva says so; even Severus Snape agrees. Anyway, if you don't help, they'll only go themselves. I'm not sure if the Barrier Charm can stop kids like these, so you might as well take them through it.

"Look, Molly, love, there's safety in numbers. There's nobody of the right age we can send, and these American youngsters want to go. Just help them, for our kids' sakes, all right?"

In the end, Molly agreed. She stood outside the house, looking over a nearby meadow and waiting. She squinted at the sky. It was odd--the morning mist should be burning off by now; instead, it seemed to be thickening, forming into an actual fog. Something wasn't right. Molly took a firmer grip of her wand.

It began as a low thrumming, felt in the chest rather than heard, but quickly growing to a roar, then to a deafening scream. A great, black shape dropped out of the fog to land in the meadow.

Molly knew what it was. She had seen Muggle aircraft--huge, silvery things--flying over London. She had always envisioned them carrying excited Muggle families to exotic holidays, and so thought of them in a friendly sort of way.

This one was not friendly. From its needle nose, down the sleek, matte-black body to the gracefully backswept wings, what was setting down near her home was an avian predator equal to any dragon!

Fascinated, Molly watched wheeled struts extend from the underbelly of the thing before it came to rest in the meadow. The scream died to a hissing throb. A ramp fell down from the rear of the plane, and about a dozen figures streamed out, quickly putting some distance between themselves and their vehicle. The ramp closed up, the throb became a scream again, and the black aircraft lifted off, disappearing back into the fog. The former passengers watched it leave. Molly watched them.

One of the new arrivals spotted her and pointed her out to the rest. They approached her in a group. They were teenagers, she saw, dressed like young Muggles on a walking holiday, each carrying a haversack.

Molly studied the throng more closely. There were five girls and five boys. Two of the girls were tall, one with dark-brown hair, the other a strawberry blonde. There was another medium-sized girl, very dark, with coppery skin, then two smaller, slighter ones, one auburn-haired, the other a redhead. Three of the boys were of medium height and compact build, one sandy-haired, one dark and olive-skinned, the third clearly Oriental. Then there was a tallish, gangling youth with short-cropped fair hair, and finally a dark-haired young giant who towered over his companions.

The tall, dark-haired girl stepped up to her. Molly now saw the streak of pure white in the girl's hair, and met the direct, grey eyes with a smile. The girl extended a gloved hand and spoke with a pretty accent. "Mrs. Weasley? Mrs. Molly Weasley? We've come to help look for our friends. My name's Marie D'Ancanto. People call me Rogue."

In minutes, The Burrow was once again full of young people, making Molly feel better. One way or another, she had heard a lot about these youngsters, and was anxious to get to know them better. As she passed out tea and toast (and bacon and sausages and eggs) she chattered brightly, trying to draw them out. "Here you are, Sam, is it? You're Cannonball, aren't you? So that means this pretty little thing must be Rahne, er, Wolfsbane, if Ron told me right. He thinks such a lot of both of you!"

"Yes, ma'am. Ron's a real pal," said Sam politely. Rahne graced her with a shy smile.

Molly moved on. "Have another sausage, Roberto. Now, you're the one they call Sunspot, aren't you? The young man who taught Harry all those dangerous tricks on that skateboard thingy? And that makes you Danielle--Psyche, yes?"

Roberto rose from his seat at table, reached for Molly's hand and kissed it lightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Senhora Weasley," he said.

Dani shook her head and grinned at Molly's surprise. "Watch yourself, Mrs. Weasley. Roberto's slick as they come. He was stealing hearts when other kids were swiping cookies."

Molly smiled. "Go on with you! Help yourself to more tea, Peter. I can see now why they call you Colossus. Give Kitty the butter, then pass the toast across to Bob, there."

Molly paused, tilting her head, finger to cheek. "Now, you two I've not seen or heard of before. Are you new to the school?"

"New to the team, not the school," said the strawberry blonde, a strikingly pretty girl with large, blue eyes. "I'm Alison Blair; they call me Dazzler. That's what I do, dazzle people." She held out her hand, palm up, and a small globe of light appeared in it, flashing though a dozen different colours before it vanished. "My body turns sound into light," Alison disclosed.

The Oriental young man rose from his seat and bowed formally to Molly. "I am Shiro Yoshida, also called Sunfire. It is an honour to meet you. I believed that the mother of such a warrior as Ronald-san must be a lady of stature, and I was correct in that belief."

At Molly's urging, Shiro went on to explain his Mutant ability to produce bolts of superheated plasma. This power also allowed him to generate a force field around his body, and to fly. It was all very strange to Molly!

Then Rogue said, "Professor X told us that Harry and the others have found a safe place to rest up for a few hours, so we'd better do the same. We all caught some sleep on the flight over, but we'll be better for more sack time before we go to this Labyrinth. You guys sort out places to crash; I'll help Mrs. Weasley clean up."

That decision proved to be something of a mistake on Marie's part. The homely kitchen of The Burrow didn't look like her Mom's place, but it felt like it. It had been over two years since Marie had fled her parent's house to escape their unspoken fear of her, an action that led to her fateful encounter with Wolverine. For all this time, Marie had managed to hold the memories, the sense of loss, at bay. But being here suddenly brought it all back. Without warning, Marie found herself sitting at the kitchen table, face buried in her hands, weeping bitterly.

Molly sat down beside Marie, gathering the sobbing young woman into her arms and holding her till the storm had passed. Marie recovered and began to stammer an apology, but Molly shushed her. "It's all right, my dear. We all have things that touch us, sometimes. Just remember, Marie, whatever happens, you'll always be welcome here."

When Molly gently kissed her forehead, Marie's power flickered enough to give her a sense of this woman. Molly Weasley had enough love in her heart for all the world. Comforted by that knowledge, Marie allowed herself to be led into the living room and settled on the couch. "Go to sleep, now, my dear. Let tomorrow take care of itself."

***

Sanctuary had let the young Wizards sleep on until they all felt rested. As Tully had said, a single bell roused them, giving them enough time to wash and dress before ringing again to summon them to a simple but ample breakfast. Now the third bell rang, and the door to Sanctuary swung open.

"OK," said Harry. "We don't have a clue what we're going to run into out there, so that's pretty much life as we know it! Take care, stick together, and watch each other's backs. Good luck, everyone."

With Harry and Neville in the lead, the group filed through the door. The first surprise was that the corridor had vanished. Instead of a narrow passageway, they found themselves in a large, circular, stone chamber with no visible exits. As they looked around, the door to Sanctuary closed behind them, fading into unblemished stone.

Ron scratched his head. "At the moment, it looks as if we're not going anywhere very fast."

"There has to be a way out," said Harry. "The test must be to find it. Right, everybody inspect the walls."

"Except Luna, Hermione and Padma," put in Neville. In answer to enquiring looks, he explained, "You three can do what you do best-think through the problem in case it's more complicated than a hidden door. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm cool with that," Harry agreed.

Lavender murmured to Ginny, "One of these days, you're going to have to teach him to speak English, again."

"Well, duh," quipped Ginny, drawing out the last word in a dreadful parody of an American accent. Lavender rolled her eyes. She knew what Ginny saw in their darkly handsome Housemate, but it was a mystery to Lavender what withdrawn and quiet Harry saw in irrepressible Ginny. Oh, well, everything for the best, Lavender concluded, realising no one would have paired her with Neville a year ago.

Quite suddenly, Harry saw his friend's forms begin to shimmer and waver; from their expressions of shock, he guessed the same was happening to him. He felt a swirl of teleportation and then found himself in a narrow, rough-hewn tunnel. An ominous rumbling made him turn, alerting him to a large boulder beginning to roll down a steep slope toward him.

"Bloody Hell," Harry breathed, before he began to run.

***

Molly stood outside the ruin and looked anxiously at the young people she had guided here. They were in the process of undressing, or at least shedding their outer garments to reveal the form-fitting, black leather uniforms they had put on before leaving The Burrow. She felt obliged to make one last attempt to dissuade them. "My dears, are you sure you want to do this?"

Surprisingly, it was Bob who answered her, coming over and taking both of her hands in his. "Mrs. Weasley, our friends are there, and they're in trouble. We owe them our help, as people and as members of a team or a House. Above all, Mutants have so few friends in the world that we can't afford--and don't want--to lose any of them!

"Anyway, we're trained for this. Believe me, we can handle ourselves, and once we join up with Harry and the rest, there's nothing we can't take on, together."

Molly sighed, contenting herself with giving each of them one last hug. Most responded warmly, though Sam and Shiro were somewhat embarrassed by the display of affection. Then, with Marie in the lead, the group entered the ruin, and vanished.

Marie knew the feel of a Portkey, but was still unnerved to find herself in pitch darkness. "We could use some light," she called.

"Working on it!" Alison's voice responded.

Dazzler had practised until she could operate the small control panel mounted on her wrist by touch alone. The unit controlled a generator that fed sonic energy through the special circuitry Beast had built into her uniform. The generator provided her with a constantly available alternative to ambient sound as a source for her power. Within moments, a bright glow surrounded her body and expanded to illuminate a large chamber with carved walls and floor.

Rogue looked around, hearing stone scraping against stone. "Oh, crap!" she exclaimed, as the ceiling began to descend.