A Storm Descends On Hogwarts

Chapter 3
"Barbarians" at the Gates

Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on summer-day sands.
We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle.
Hold the first grain of love in our hands.

Jethro Tull
The Whistler

Professor Severus Snape irritably checked the length of his stride again in order to match pace with Albus Dumbledore. He fumed silently. Once more Dumbledore in his infinite wisdom has decided not to award me the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. But his audacity in insisting that I be part of the interview is just beyond belief.

"Headmaster, is it really necessary that I be part of this?" he stated with forced evenness. "Surely this is in Professor Mcgonagall's job description." His hand that was not in Dumbledore's view clenched and released in rhythm with his steps.

"Severus, I need your opinion in this matter. Painful as it is, I must admit to having a bad luck when filling this position. I tend to see only the best in people. You tend to see the worst. Somewhere in the middle is most likely the truth." He sighed deeply then continued. "That and she is currently handling some delicate matters with some of the Muggleborns' families."

Snape bit back the remark that nearly jumped out of his mouth. The sheer idiocy of bringing in more Muggleborn students while in the middle of war. He might as well be hang a huge Hex Me sign on all those students and families. Scowling darkly past a curtain of black hair, he asked, "Just what exactly do you want of me?"

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Alira Storm blinked rapidly to help her eyes to adjust to the abrupt shift from intense brightness to the normal levels of early afternoon sun. She placed a hand on Gavin Albricht's shoulder to steady herself while the roaring in her ears dissipated.

"Whoa, now that's a ride that would sell tickets! Traveling on the tail of a Phoenix is not the same as apperating at all," she remarked still semi dazed.

"If I had known it would be that bright, I would have worn shades," replied Albricht, wiping the tearing from his eyes.

They looked about them and discerned that they were standing just short of the gates of a large castle. The Phoenix was nowhere to be seen. There was a large lake on the other side of the castle and high hills ringed the large valley. A dark forest seemed to fill two thirds of the it and a sports arena was built outside the castle walls just a short distance up the hill.

The beauty of the valley and castle were overwhelming to Storm. Her senses were assaulted with vast amounts of information, which her mind translated into music. The very air vibrated with sounds of colors and textures and scent. She was drawn irresistibly to the stone wall. Touching the stone, she ran her palms down the rough surfaces. She felt giddy and pressed her forehead to the cool stone.

"Prentice, are you all right?" Albricht asked, concerned at her strange behavior.

"Can you hear it? Can you at least feel it?" she whispered not breaking contact with the stone.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come here and touch the stone, Listen to it like you listen to your swords."

He moved to her side and lightly put his finger tips to the stone and closed his eyes. The stone vibrated under his fingertips. It was not the same voice as his swords. The stones sang their own songs. He turned from the wall, his face glowing with the wonderment of a small child.

"The stones are alive with magic," his eyes wide, voice hushed in awe. "This was built in the Old Way, magically endowing each stone as it was set in place."

Storm let the appreciative gaze of a craftsman sweep the work that was the castle. "Well," she said after a still moment, "it is eight hundred years old."

"True. It is just that there aren't many places built this way anymore. Everyone wants the work done too quickly to construct this way. The last one I knew of was that mad wizard, Ed Leedskalnin, in Florida, who spent twenty-eight years building a castle, as a monument to his lost love." Albricht turned from the wall and surveyed the castle itself.

"Did she die?"

"No, she broke the engagement the day before the wedding. She was sixteen to his twenty-six. He left his homeland of Latvia and moved to the States and built the castle as a monument of his love for her."

"Wonder why she broke it off?" Storm mused.

"Well, that was 1913, maybe her family didn't approve of the marriage."

Silence fell between them as they viewed the towers of Hogwarts in bold relief against the bright summer sky. The insects thrummed to the heat of the day. Birdsong called out from the woods. It was past time that they should have been met but it didn't matter at the moment. A feeling of deep peace descended on Alira Storm. It feels like a Welcoming or Homecoming. A Homecoming?

Surprised, she found tears start to her eyes. She turned away from Albricht to hide the reaction when the largest man she had ever seen came striding toward them from the round hut outside the walls.

"Master Albricht." Storm winced inwardly for falling back into her apprenticeship pattern of address.

When Gavin Albricht saw the object of Storm's attention, he took three steps to her right. This left the giant of a man to make the choice between two targets and not take them as one.

"Hell, he must be nine or ten feet tall!" Storm exclaimed softly, noting the two dead game birds casually swinging from the left hand of the giant and a crossbow balanced over his shoulder held by the right. A loaded crossbow. The giant halted a few strides from them.

"Are yeh lookin' fer summat?" he rumbled with cautious civility as he looked the two of them over.

"Ah, we are supposed to meet the Headmaster for an interview," explained Albricht.

"Oh," he smiled nodding his head. "Tba's different then. Why don't yeh go on up to the Castle?"

"We were told we would be met at the entrance," added Storm.

"Pr'fessor Dumbledore said that?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, I think he was meanin' the front door no'the gates to Hogwarts." The giant had relaxed now and didn't seem to be as imposing as before. "Foller me. I am goin' tha' way." He turned his back on them and strode toward the castle his birds swinging time to his stride.

Albricht and Storm passed a look in between them before they turned to follow.

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Dumbledore came to a halt in front of a picture on the first landing above the entrance hall when the odd figure of a lanky knight leading a large reluctant pony addressed him with drawn sword.

"Hold knave! By what right dost thou wander these halls?"

Dumbledore lips twitched with a suppressed smile, but as he began to answer Snape took a long step to the picture.

"Sir Cadigan," his inflection made mockery of the honorific. "Have you gotten your helm askew or is that the normal set of your head?"

Sir Cadigan sprang ramrod stiff, pointing at Snape with his sword. "What dost thou mean by that, varlet?"

"Merely, that anyone with half and eye can see that this is Headmaster Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore could swear he saw steam wisping from the slits in Sir Cadigan's helm.

"Verily say thou? And what troth is this issuing from such a mean villein?"

Snape's eyes flew wide then narrowed as his brows gathered in thunderclouds. Dumbledore stepped swiftly between them his back to Sir Cadigan his hand on Snape's shoulder.

"Severus," he said with a squeeze to his shoulder. The Potions Master met his eye rebelliously. "It is only a picture," Dumbledore subvocalised. Snape spun away and stalked to the railing of the landing glaring at the empty hall below. He turned back to Sir Cadigan.

"Please pardon, gentle knight, the demeanor of my companion. He is more out of sorts than usual today." Dumbledore heard a snort and the sound of robes whipping. He stretched his hand out behind him without glancing back.

"Severus." His voice brooked no defiance. "What would reassure you, Sir?" he directed at the painted knight.

Sir Cadigan leaned forward casting a suspicious glance at Snape. "The password," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Oh, then of course," Dumbledore said in his regular voice. "It'..."

"Shhh," said Sir Cadigan jerking his head toward Snape.

"Sir Cadigan," explained Dumbledore patiently, "I trust him. That's all there is to say on the matter. The password is ‘shrubbery'."

He eyed Snape once more but nodded in acquiescence. "Pass then in peace."

Snape turned and opened his mouth to comment when the pony tired of the discourse of stupid humans pulled his reins from the distracted knight's hand and raced away for greener pastures. Sir Cadigan turned and clanked after him bellowing, "Come back here you strumpet!"

As Snape watched the scene he noticed the light sparkles dancing before his eyes. He ducked his head, the dark veil of hair swinging forward as he pinched his nose bridge to block the onset of a migraine. And just where is this new idiot that Dumbledore is going to hand us over to this time? He pulled his pocket watch out with a snap and checked the time.

He glared at Dumbledore. "It seems your candidate is late," he growled. Or maybe they heard that there was a curse on the job and changed their mind?" He put the watch away with a flourish of chain, the corners of his lips curling.

A deep wooden groan echoed through the hall and they turned to see Hagrid entering with crossbow and a brace of birds.

"Hagrid, I see you brought dinner," exclaimed Dumbledore.

"Well, I caught more than jus' a brace o' birds, Headmaster." He stepped further into the hall allowing two smaller figures to step in. "I found this pair out by the gates, waiting."

Severus narrowed his eyes, critically sizing up the two newcomers illuminated in the darker hall by the door's light. The man, though taller than average didn't quite break six feet. His chestnut hair brushed his shoulders but most outstanding was his broad Celt style mustache and the breadth of his chest and arms. His "robes" consisted of a tunic and trews tucked into soft leather boots. It's strange to see such an ancient style worn. That's older than what Dumbledore wears.

The second person was female, neither short or tall. Dark gold hair with a hint of red was worn loose to her mid shoulders. Her eyes were dark and the smile seemed to be a permanent fixture. She also seemed to be most fit carrying her weight lightly on the balls of her feet. Well as best as he could tell since she wore a long deep blue skirt. It was topped with a fine white linen shirt will full length puffed sleeve with a touch of lace at the wrists. On her hands were thin leather gloves, blue; a corseted vest, golden yellow, completed her dress.

"Well, introduce them, Hagrid," beamed Dumbledore.

Hagrid opened his mouth then closed it, looking perplexed and then looking sheepish said quietly to Gavin and Storm, "I'm awful sorry, but I didn't get yer names."

"Gavin Albricht and Alira Storm," said Albricht, "from America."

"Really? I've never met anyone from America. You gotta tell me all about the magical creatures there. See I teach Care of Magical Creatures and I'd love t' hear wha' you have in the States."

"Hagrid!" Snape bit out his name with venom. "Introductions now, talk later!"

"Oh, right. Sorry ‘bout that. This here is Gavin Albricht and Alira Storm. From America."

The silence hung for a moment and when Hagrid didn't make the other half of the introductions, Dumbledore picked up where he left off. "I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and this is Severus Snape, our Potions Master." He descended the stairs to the hall with a regal air that on another might seem melodramatic. He wore it as naturally as he wore his skin. Snape glided down after him, a dark shadow to his light.

Alira had been analyzing the two from the moment she stepped around the door. Light and Darkness. Austerity and Opulence. Age and Youth. Black and White versus Technicolor. The Yin and Yang. The Unicorn and the Dragon.

Alira's gaze shifted back and forth between the two as Dumbledore continued to speak. "I am very glad to meet you both, but I must confess I was only expecting one person." He looked to Albricht for an explanation. Alira took note of the intense scrutiny the dark mans narrowed eyes gave her.

"I can understand your confusion so allow me to explain. This is Alira Storm my former Apprentice. I currently have commitments that do not allow me to take this position but she has been my best student and currently has no outstanding commitments,"

"You're unemployed you mean." The rich baritone voice held a distinct edge of disdain. He flicked out his watch and glanced at it. "Not surprising since your fifteen minutes late."

"Well being unemployed is quite often the case when one applies for a job." Alira fired back at him with a challenging grin. "As for being late, we were at the gates on time waiting for you." She took in the hostility that radiated from his body language and the black obsidian glitter of his eyes. Interesting. I wonder what's got his hackles up?

"Yes," said Albricht, "we had the impression that was where to meet you."

"Tell me," inquired Dumbledore, "why you had the impression to meet at the gates instead of the front door?"

Storm and Albricht exchanged glances and he gave her the nod to carry the conversation. "In America, if you found such a place as heavily warded as this one, it is best to wait at the outer defenses for an invitation or guide instead of going in."

"Best how?" asked Dumbledore.

"Best in the self survival sense," she grinned wickedly.

"Well," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, " I must remember that if I should ever come to visit you at your residence. Now why don't we proceed to my office and get aquatinted," he gestured grandly in the direction they should take and waited for Storm to draw along side him.

"I'll just take these birds to the kitchen. Don't leave without telling me about the creatures now." Hagrid called to the retreating Storm.

"Sure thing, Hagrid" she replied with a wave.

Albricht and Snape fell in behind giving each other polite but searching glances as they sized one another up. Snape shifted into a purely analytical mode. He watched Albricht take in his surroundings without gawking like a tourist. Snape followed Albricht's eyes to everyplace that had strategic value in a confrontation. He noted the corded muscles in the man's forearms, unusual in most wizards except for those who played as Beaters. He glanced forward to the woman and Dumbledore. The Headmaster was explaining some of the history of Hogwarts as they walked. She was paying attention but he noticed that she too was analyzing the terrain of the halls as well.

Through a roofed corridor of arches they walked. the castle stood on the left hand and a beautiful courtyard complete with a fountain lay on the right through the arches. They came to the end and stood before a stately stone gryffin. Dumbledore took a half step forward and announced, "Licorice whips." The stone groaned and creaked as the gryffin spiraled upward revealing a rising stair case.

Snape saw the woman shoot an ear-to-ear grin to big American and have it answered in turn. Despite himself his eyebrow quirked upward. Yes, the old man's penchant for candy code words is utterly ridiculous, but what was that about?

Alira took a deep breath as she watched Dumbledore nimbly step onto the rising stairs. She wasn't fond of close spaces but she never let anyone know that. She never let it stop her either. With another deep breath she hopped onto the spinning stairs followed by Gavin and the Shadowman and up the shaft they rode.

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