“This ring-key,” the caretaker went on, turning back and approaching a broad doorway, “Takes us to a thoroughly more interesting place. Not that any of you should have need to visit it, I daresay.”
The door to the Slytherin common room was a metal monstrosity of locks and deadbolts, dominated by an enchanted sculpture of a coiled snake, one eye glowing with a green gem, the other an empty black socket. Normally, the snake raised its head to challenge the entrant. Filch gave it no chance, however. With another glance over his shoulder, he plugged the ring-key on his left hand into the snake’s empty eye socket.
The various bolts, locks, and clasps of the door clacked loudly open and the door eased loose on its heavy hinges. Filch paused, still glaring back over his shoulder at the gathering of older students, almost as if he might change his mind about this last secret and send them all back to their dormitories.
Instead, with a reluctant grimace, he heaved the door open and stepped through.
A push of cold, strangely misty wind rushed out around Filch’s shoulders, flapping James’ collar and lifting Millie’s blonde hair.
“That’s never been there before,” Ralph commented, following the group as it pressed through the open door.
Ahead of James, Trenton Bloch suddenly stumbled, raising his head as he moved through the opening. He blinked rapidly, turning on the spot. When he spoke, his voice was a hushed tremolo.
“That’s never been there before, either!”
Impatiently, James shouldered around Trenton, and then drifted to a stunned stop himself, his eyes widening as he took in the suddenly massive space before him.
Amazingly, inexplicably, the Slytherin common room was gone.
In its place was a vast cavern with wet stone walls and a rough-hewn floor, terraced into broad descending steps. At the bottom of the steps, acres of black water spread away in the shape of a small subterranean lake, heaving with waves. Along the distant walls, nearly hidden in the darkness, broad archways led to what appeared to be canals or underground rivers. Huge torches hung in sconces between the arches, reflecting their flickering light on the waves.
The troupe of seventh years drifted down the broad steps in awe, trying to peer in every direction at once. Water lapped and splashed.
The torches crackled.
A ship bobbed and creaked on the waves some distance away, moored to a stone bollard with a length of rope. The ship was old, but low and sleek, equipped with three tall masts and studded along its side with portholes and cannon ports.
“That’s a blockade runner,” McCoy announced with a low whistle. “A smuggler’s ship! What’s it doing here?”
“Forget the ship, ” Fiera Hutchins said, adjusting her glasses as she looked around. “Where is here?”
“Look!” Graham called suddenly, his voice waking echoes all around the cavernous space. He stabbed a hand upwards, pointing toward the dark ceiling.
James looked, and swayed under a thrill of alarm and wonder.
The ceiling wasn’t stone. It was water. Waves rolled and clapped together overhead, forming an inverted mirror of the enormous pool below, glinting blackly in the lofty heights.
“We’re beneath the lake!” Deirdre suddenly proclaimed. “Aren’t we?”
Filch’s voice rang from some distance away, where he stood on the lowest terrace overlooking the waves. “The Black Lake is technically not a lake,” he announced, and James thought that the old caretaker, for the first time, seemed to be enjoying himself. “It’s an inversion of the underground harbor below. From here, vessels can travel to virtually any waterway in the world. So long as its occupants aren’t prone to a wee bit of claustrophobia and don’t mind getting a tetch wet.”
“Hold on,” Millie said, standing next to James again. “Are you saying that when the Durmstrangs arrived in their ship, back in the days of the Triwizard Tournament…?”
Graham continued, realization dawning on him. “They didn’t just magically appear, bobbing up from the lake like it was some kind of portal?”
“Ach,” Filch said, an edge of impatience coming back into his voice. “There’s plenty o’ magic involved. More than you lot could get your wee heads around. But the lake above is no portal. It’s just the passage into the network of rivers below. From here, a ship can get anywhere, if they’re willing to brave the endless tunnels and underground oceans between here and there.”
“So whose boat is that, then?” Trenton asked, pointing at the blockade runner that bobbed secretively in the distance.
Filch opened his mouth to answer but another voice drowned him out, calling suddenly from the darkness.
“And that’s th’ end o’ th’ tour, I wager,” the voice said, unnecessarily loudly. James recognized it even before the huge man appeared from the shadows, hands raised in a warding-off gesture. “Mr.
Filch is a busy, busy man. Make sure that you thank ‘im gen’rously on the way out. Good to see yeh all. Yer dormit’ries await.”
“Hagrid!” Ralph said with a puzzled smile. “But who’s that with him?”
James peered into the dimness, past the disgruntled form of Filch as he began to ascend the steps again, irritably herding the students ahead of him. Alongside Hagrid, another much smaller figure moved slowly toward the light.
Filch gestured toward the open door at the back of the cavern.
“The professor’s right. Back to your dormitories, and be quick about it.
No lollygagging. And bear in mind what I said at the start of the tour!
Not a word to anyone!”
James walked backwards, stumbling up the rough terraces alongside Ralph, trying to hang back long enough to greet Hagrid and his mysterious friend. Filch was insistent, however, driving the group toward the door, brooking no hesitation.
As James pressed back through the doorway and into the waiting warmth of the dungeon corridor, he glanced back once more. Hagrid was standing on one of the lower terraces now, between the door and the dark ship in the distance, the look on his face both fretful and relieved.
The person standing with him was finally, plainly visible. She had a small smile on her face as she met James’ eyes and shrugged.
I told you I probably already knew all about it, the shrug seemed to say.
As Filch pulled the door closed behind them, clanking the locks and bolts back into place, Ralph stopped in the hall and frowned, glancing back over his shoulder.
“What in the wide world is Rose doing in there with Hagrid?” he asked.
James heaved a sigh and shook his head wryly. “Come on, Ralph,” he said. “You’re not really all that surprised, are you?”
4. – Secret of the Dagger
“To be fair,” Rose said as she, James, and Ralph navigated the crowded corridor late the following morning, “I only found out about the harbor beneath the lake last year. Hagrid needed help with something, so he let me in on the secret.”