"Recently, in response to the shocking and widespread rumors circulating through the Wizarding world about the appalling incident where the Inquisition's enforcement squad of the Holy See Tribunal in the remote city of Caerlerd had publicly and brutally executed three innocent young children who possessed magical talents by cruelly burning them to death at the stake, the Royal Wizard Association's Council quickly dispatched an elite investigative team comprised of their most skilled and experienced members to Caerlerd to conduct an urgent on-site investigation into the troubling matter.
After engaging in tense and delicate negotiations with the notoriously ruthless and uncompromising Inquisition, they finally managed to uncover the shocking and disturbing truth of what had actually happened.
According to the detailed reports that soon emerged, the three tragic children were revealed to actually be dangerous and out-of-control Obscurials. At the time of the incident, the three Obscurials were apparently wreaking terrible havoc in the once-peaceful streets of Caerlerd, killing dozens of innocent Muggles and reducing buildings to rubble.
The Inquisition's law enforcement personnel, upon detecting the dire situation, immediately rushed to the chaotic scene with great urgency. They managed to quickly subdue the three dangerous out-of-control Obscurials, but then, at the insistent demands and strong requests of the grief-stricken and enraged surviving Muggles, they shockingly executed the three children by burning them alive at the stake."
Following this deeply unsettling report were several disturbing hand-drawn pictures vividly depicting a once-thriving city now burning with buildings exploding and burning to ashes amidst raging flames and rising smoke which was in stark contrast to the lively moving photographs they were accustomed to seeing in the pages of the Daily Prophet.
As for the rest of the mysterious content that lay below the photos, it was frustratingly obscured by a thick book titled "How to Cook a Good Pot of Soup" that was on top of the parchment, concealing the writing beneath.
Ron reached out with to try to lift the book and see what lay below, but just like when he had tried to pick up the slightly odd-looking copy of "A History of Hogwarts" resting on the bookshelf moments earlier, he found himself completely unable to lift or budge it at all, as if it were stuck to the desk with a Permanent Sticking Charm.
"What kind of barmy trick is this?!" Ron cried out in exasperation as his face flushed as red as his hair.
Ron tried desperately to lift or pry up the cookbook in utter frustration, but no matter from which angle he attempted it or how much strength he exerted, he always failed. Whenever his fingers brushed the book, the seemingly solid book would flatten and stick to the wooden table like an impossibly thin sticker, thwarting his efforts.
Harry likewise attempted to pull out the notice that resembled a clipping from a newspaper lying beneath, and encountered the same resistance.
"This is probably some kind of sophisticated defensive magic--" Hermione said slowly, frowning in contemplation as she watched Harry and Ron frantically scratching and scrabbling at the surface of the table in vain and said uncertainly. "Perhaps it's intended to prevent people who illegally intrude into this office from being able to disturb or meddle with the contents,"
"Oh, brilliant! Just brilliant!" Ron responded sarcastically, brushing his sweat-dampened bangs out of his eyes with the back of his hand as he panted breathlessly from his fruitless efforts. "We finally find something that might give us some answers, and we can't even bloody look at it properly!" "
Harry also ceased his futile attempts, and turned to look at Hermione. "Obscurials...what exactly are they, Hermione?" he asked, knowing the she was likely to have the answer.
"Obscurials are wizards, Harry--" And Hermione indeed answered this question effortlessly. "Some wizards who have experienced severe psychological trauma and repressed their magic will have their powers warped and twisted inside their bodies. This gives rise to an incredibly strong but dangerously unstable dark force that is not under their control and can very easily cause great harm to both themselves and those around them."
Upon hearing this scary revelation, Harry, Ron and the two fearful house-elves all fell into a heavy, contemplative silence, and a grim atmosphere settled over the room.
The golden late afternoon sunlight streamed into the office through the windows, bathing everything in its warm, honeyed glow. However, the light was so bright it was nearly blinding, making the view of the picturesque grounds outside hazy and indistinct, as if it was glimpsed through a filmy veil.
"The Holy See...that's an organization from the Muggles' side of things, isn't it?" Ron asked, his nose wrinkling in obvious dislike and disgust. "But then why in Merlin's name didn't they just capture these dangerous Obscurial kids and lock them away in Azkaban for everyone's safety? Burning children at the stake seems utterly barbaric. And who are the Royal Wizard Association? I've never heard of them before."
"Was any of this reported in the Daily Prophet?" Harry asked, continuing to sprinkle Hermione with questions, hoping to gain some clarity, knowing she was one of the few students at Hogwarts who diligently read the wizarding newspaper cover to cover each morning. "And what about this Caerlerd place..."
Harry furrowed his brow in concentration as he wracked his brain trying to recall if he had ever heard of a city by that name before. He knew that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had a habit of always watching the nightly news and weather forecast on the telly right after dinner each evening, so many of the names of towns and cities across England had a vague familiarity to him, but try as he might, he couldn't seem to place where Caerlerd might be located in his mental map. Perhaps it wasn't a Muggle town at all...
"--Is Caerlerd perhaps a special name that only wizards use to refer to one of the Muggle cities?" Harry asked slowly, continuing to reason aloud.
However, this time Hermione's "know-it-all attribute" failed. She couldn't answer any of Harry and Ron's questions.
Fear comes from the unknown. Although they were in a quiet and peaceful office, upon closer examination, everything here was full of irrationality and oddity. Harry and the others gradually realized that this mysterious office probably did not belong to any of the professors at Hogwarts.
With each moment they lingered, the uneasy fear twisting their guts intensified by another notch. The seriousness of their precarious situation crashed over Harry in sickening waves with crystal clarity. He decided their most prudent course of action now was to focus on escaping this weird room by any means possible, abandoning their risky investigation into the texts that might prove the identity of the room's owner here before they stumbled into even greater danger.
"I think it's time we got out of here--" Harry finally said firmly, breaking the tense, lingering silence.
He turned on his back and sprinted towards the far wall where an enormous, elaborately framed oil painting was stretching from floor to the ceiling.
"This looks like the same painting we fell through earlier to end up here," Harry explained, pointing a finger at it.
This large oil painting was the only landscape scene among the many decorative artworks decorating the office walls. The unknown painter had used mostly black and rich golden yellow hues to warmly show a peaceful, valley bathed in glorious afternoon sunlight.
A stiff breeze seemed to swept across the rolling sea of golden wheat fields, making the ripe stalks sway and dance. Birds circled beneath the vast azure dome of the sky and a narrow, curving dirt path was carved through the waving fields, dividing them neatly in two as it wandered off into the distant horizon line.
Hermione approached the painting and squinted warily, as she inspected it closely with her nose nearly brushing its surface. "Are you saying this painting is some sort of door or passageway, Harry?" she asked without taking off her gaze of the rural scene for a moment.
She carefully scrutinized every tiny detail of the frame and canvas, searching for any subtle anomalies or signs of magical tampering, but to her frustration, this yielded no obvious hints or clues. As far as Hermione could determine, it appeared to be just an ordinary, if rather ominously designed, Muggle landscape painting.
"Let me give it a try!"
Hermione raised her wand at the painting and muttered under her breath, under the keen gaze of Harry, Ron, Dobby, and Freodom.
Flashes of light fell from the tip of Hermione's wand, but when these lights touched the painting, they disappeared like raindrops falling into the sea, producing no reaction. But this also seemed to prove one point to them - this painting probably did indeed conceal some mystery.
"Maybe we should try a different approach--"
After pondering for a moment, Harry pulled Hermione, who never gave up, aside, and aimed his own wand at the painting.
"What are you going to do, Harry?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"If the traditional methods won't work, then perhaps we should take a page out of Seamus' book," Harry flexed his wrist and shrugged. "When in doubt...BLOW it up!"
"Wait, Harry!"
Hermione was startled and hurried to stop him. But Harry, who had undergone training, was extremely fast. With a raise of his hand, a silent red light of the Disarming Charm shot out like an arrow leaving the bowstring, disappearing into the painting in an instant!
Whoosh!
This seemingly reckless act actually produced an effect. The still painting suddenly rippled like the surface of the sea on a moonlit night. The bent wheat stalks in the painting swayed their bodies wildly as if experiencing a windstorm. In the far distance of the ridge path dividing the painting, a black figure suddenly appeared and rapidly enlarged in the sight of the few people!
Sensing the approaching danger, Freodom suddenly pulled Hermione away from the painting and stood in front of her, while Dobby also tackled Harry to the ground. Only Ron stood foolishly in place, staring blankly at the painting that had suddenly changed.
CRASH!
The ripples on the painting's surface grew larger and larger. In a certain moment, the painting suddenly burst with light. Amidst Harry's roar, Ron stumbled backwards, supporting himself up with both hands in terror as he retreated!
RUSTLE!
The black figure in the painting became clearer and clearer, and then--
BANG!
jumped out of the oil painting and landed on the ground. Looking at the three young wizards and two elves lying on the ground in front of him, he raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth had a smile full of unclear meaning. "Having fun, are we?"
For a long moment, there was dead silence.
'Professor Watson?!'
Looking at the person who suddenly appeared from the painting, Harry, Ron and Hermione's gaping mouths could fit two eggs!
Silence, surprise, embarrassment.
The three young wizards, having gone through a complex emotional journey, slowly crawled up from the ground and stood obediently in a row in front of Professor Watson. However, although they appeared frightened and waiting for a scolding, the three felt genuinely relieved in their hearts.
"I'm glad to see you three still alive--" Bryan said in a relaxed tone. "Otherwise, as the head of the Student Safety Office, I would have to submit a resignation report to the school board."
"This is all my fault, Professor!" Hermione's tightly pursed lips turned pale, and her voice was tinged with a sob. "It was me...I insisted on coming in to take a look. Harry and Ron only followed because they were afraid, I would get into trouble alone..."
Harry and Ron clearly also knew that they had caused trouble again this time, and had almost lost their own lives too. But they wouldn't let Hermione bear the punishment alone. Both boys were eager to say something, but before they could speak, they were stopped by Bryan.
"Don't be too quick to take responsibility, you three--"
Bryan's gaze swept around. With one look, his brow furrowed. His relaxed demeanor vanished, and his eyes instantly became solemn.
"I'm afraid the trouble we're facing has only just begun--"
*******************************
For More Chapters; patreon.com/FicFrenzy