The hotel was modest but clean, with worn carpets and heavy floral curtains that looked like they hadn't been changed in decades. Sirius dropped his bag onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.
"Not a single self-fluffing pillow in sight," he complained, poking at the mattress. "Do muggles enjoy suffering, or is it just a hobby for them?"
Harry smirked, placing his own bag on the chair. "You sound like Dudley. He used to whine about anything less than five-star."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Dudley? That pudding of a cousin of yours? Merlin's beard, I can't believe I'm being compared to him." He paused, then grinned mischievously. "Alright, fine. But only because I'm exhausted. Let's blame the plane."
Harry chuckled as Sirius unfolded a map he'd picked up in Riga. He traced a finger over a red-marked trail leading into a forested area.
"This is it," Sirius said. "The place your mum mentioned. Supposed to be beautiful, though she didn't warn us about the lack of Apparition points."
"I think she wanted it to be this way," Harry replied. "You know, actually seeing it. Step by step."
Sirius's expression softened as he folded the map. "Well, let's honor that wish, then. Early start tomorrow, yeah? Pack light."
Harry yawned, the long day of travel catching up with him. "Sounds good. Night, Sirius."
"Night, kiddo," Sirius replied, flopping onto the creaky bed with a sigh.
The sun rose bright and early, the warm golden light spilling into their small hotel room. Harry stretched, already dressed in light hiking gear, while Sirius busied himself with stuffing essentials into a worn backpack.
"Alright," Sirius said, slinging the bag over one shoulder. "Water, snacks, map, and… ah, yes. Chocolate. Essentials covered."
"You're acting like we're trekking through the Amazon," Harry teased, tucking his wand into an inner pocket.
"Have you seen me in the morning? I need motivation," Sirius shot back, grinning.
They set off shortly after breakfast, leaving the little hotel behind as they walked through the quaint streets of Madona. Soon, the cobblestones gave way to dirt paths, and the bustling sounds of the town faded into the calm rustle of leaves.
The trail wove through dense forest, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in golden streaks. They walked side by side, Sirius carrying their bag with an ease that belied his earlier complaints. Harry, though mesmerized by the natural beauty, couldn't help but glance at Sirius every so often, curious about something he hadn't yet asked.
"Sirius?" Harry began, breaking the peaceful silence.
"Hmm?" Sirius turned his head
"What was it like—being an Auror?"
Sirius let out a low whistle. "Straight to the heavy questions, eh? Well, it was… intense."
"Intense how?" Harry asked, his curiosity outweighing the hesitation he felt about prying.
Sirius stopped for a moment, pulling a water bottle from the pack and taking a sip. He didn't speak right away, as if choosing his words carefully. Then, he began walking again, slower this time.
"Being an Auror… it's not just about catching dark wizards," Sirius said. "It's about outthinking them. And to do that, you've got to understand how they think. It's not as simple as knowing the spells they use or where they might strike next. You have to get inside their heads—see the world the way they see it."
Sirius's gaze turned distant, his voice quieter. "And once you do, it changes you. The way you see people, the way you see the world—it all shifts. Those filters, the ones that let you see things as good or safe or innocent… they crack. You start noticing threats everywhere. You see how easily fear spreads, how power corrupts, how fragile the whole bloody system is."
He paused, then added, "There's no better example of that than Alastor Moody."
Harry frowned slightly. "Moody? I've heard his name—wasn't he some big-shot Auror?"
"Big-shot doesn't even begin to cover it," Sirius replied with a faint smile. "Alastor Moody was the greatest Auror of his time. Hell, maybe of any time. He filled half the cells in Azkaban by himself. A living legend in his day." Sirius's expression darkened. "But now? They call him paranoid. Think he's mad because he treats everything and everyone with suspicion."
Harry tilted his head. "Is he mad?"
"No," Sirius said firmly, his voice cutting through the forest stillness. "He's not mad. He's what happens when you've spent your life thinking like the enemy. Hunting them. Seeing every shadow as a threat because you know better than anyone else what's hiding there. Moody's not paranoid for the sake of it. He's just… prepared. Always."
Sirius glanced at Harry. "People laugh at him for it now. Call him 'Mad-Eye' like it's an insult. But the truth is, his vigilance has saved more lives than anyone could count. The price for that vigilance, though… it's high. Moody gave his sanity—or at least the part that lets you see the world like normal people do."
Harry was quiet for a moment, processing. "Do you think he minds? That people think he's crazy?"
Sirius sighed. "Oh, he minds. He wouldn't be human if he didn't. But Moody's not the type to let that stop him. He cares more about keeping people alive than what they think of him. And honestly? We're all lucky he does. If there's anyone who knows how to out think the worst of them, it's him."
They walked in silence for a moment before Sirius added, his voice quieter, "But sometimes I wonder… if it's worth what it's cost him. If it's worth what it cost all of us."
Harry glanced at Sirius, unsure what to say. But Sirius simply gave him a crooked grin, the moment of vulnerability passing as he nodded toward the trail ahead.
"Come on, we've got a mountain to climb. I'd rather reminisce about Moody over dinner than while sweating my arse off."
The trail grew steeper as they climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to patches of open ground where the view stretched for miles. Harry felt invigorated by the crisp air and the steady rhythm of their steps. Sirius, though occasionally grumbling about his sore legs, seemed just as energized.
"Remind me," Sirius said, "why exactly people do this for fun? There's a perfectly good broomstick waiting back at Grimmauld Place."
"Because it's about the journey," Harry replied with mock solemnity, glancing over his shoulder. "And besides, you're not exactly setting records with that pace, old man."
"Old man?" Sirius shot back, his tone mock-offended. "I'll have you know I was voted 'Most Dashing Marauder' three years running. Can't do that without staying in shape."
Harry snorted. "Did you vote for yourself?"
"Only twice," Sirius admitted with a grin. "James was bitter about it for weeks."
They burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet woods. The mood was light as they continued their hike, their conversation meandering from Quidditch to stories of Sirius's pranks at Hogwarts.
As they rounded a bend in the trail, the distant roar of water became audible. It grew louder with each step until they emerged into a clearing. A wide, cascading waterfall dominated the scene, its mist catching the sunlight and creating a faint rainbow in the air. The pool at its base shimmered, surrounded by smooth stones and lush greenery.
"Now this," Sirius said, slinging off his bag and dropping onto a flat rock near the water's edge, "is a spot worth the hike."
Harry followed, sitting down and letting his legs dangle toward the cool water. The sound of the rushing falls was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and for a while, they simply sat in companionable silence, taking it all in.
But as Harry stared at the waterfall, a strange sensation crept into his mind. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was persistent—a soft tug, like the faint whisper of a voice just out of reach. He frowned, his gaze sharpening as he focused on the way the water tumbled down the rocks.
"Something wrong, Harry?" Sirius asked, noticing his intent expression.
"I…" Harry hesitated, not wanting to sound silly. "It's probably nothing, but… doesn't it feel a little… off here?"
Sirius straightened, his casual demeanor giving way to alertness. His eyes swept the area, lingering on the waterfall. "Off how?"
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "It's like… there's something here. Something we're not seeing."
Sirius pulled out his wand. "Alright, let's take a look."
Sirius pointed his wand toward the waterfall and began with a spell Harry hadn't heard before. "Specialis Revelio Integrum."
A shimmering wave of golden energy rippled outward, spreading across the rocks, water, and surrounding trees. The glow ebbed and flowed like a tide, before beginning to coalesce near the base of the waterfall, the golden light swirling in lazy spirals around a single flat stone.
"There," Sirius murmured, his eyes narrowing. "But this isn't simple spellwork. It's… tangled, like layers of wards stacked on top of each other."
Harry took a cautious step forward. "How can you tell?"
Sirius tapped his temple with his free hand. "You learn to feel it. There's a rhythm to magic, a pattern in the way it's cast. This—" He gestured at the faint glow of light gathering near the stone. "—this has the feel of something ancient. Something alive, almost."
He crouched by the stone, his movements careful. His wand traced a series of small loops in the air, each one precise, like he was weaving invisible threads. "Vestigium Magicae Profundus."
The golden glow erupted into intricate patterns—lines of energy crisscrossing over the stone like veins, pulsing faintly in shades of gold and silver. Sirius stared at it.
"See that?" he said, gesturing to the glowing web. "Residual magic. It's like footprints in the sand, but for spells. It shows you the traces of power that linger—how it was cast, how old it is, and sometimes…" He paused, his voice dipping lower. "…who cast it."
"Who do you think it was?" Harry asked, his eyes wide as he crouched beside Sirius.
"I can't say for sure," Sirius replied, his wand weaving through the glowing lines with deliberate care. "But this kind of work? Layered, self-sustaining, and still intact after all these years? Whoever cast it had immense skill—and power. And from the feel of it, they weren't trying to destroy anything. They were protecting it."
Sirius stood, his wand hovering over the center of the glowing energy. His next spell was quieter, spoken with a reverence Harry hadn't heard before. "Scriptum Arcanum."
The spell's effect was immediate. Runes materialized in the air above the stone, shimmering in blue and gold, their edges flickering like flames. Sirius studied them closely, his wand tracing the lines as if reading an ancient language.
"Protection," he muttered, pointing to one glowing symbol. "Secrecy." His finger moved to another. "And… access." His eyes narrowed. "This isn't just a ward. It's a key. A magical lock meant to keep something hidden—something important."
Harry leaned closer, his heart pounding. "Can you open it?"
"Opening it isn't the right word," Sirius said, his tone grave. "This kind of magic doesn't break—it unravels. You dismantle it piece by piece, or risk setting off a backlash."
Sirius adjusted his grip on his wand, his movements slower now, each flick and sweep deliberate. "Reserare Signum."
The air thickened, vibrating faintly as Sirius worked. He started with the outermost rune, tracing it with a delicate, clockwise motion. The rune flickered, then dissolved into wisps of light. Another rune followed, its glow dimming as Sirius dismantled it with a series of sharp wand movements.
"It's like peeling layers off an onion," Sirius said, his voice tight with concentration. "Each one tied to the next, and if you tug too hard—"
A sudden pulse of magic surged outward, and Sirius quickly countered with a sharp "Finite!" The energy stilled, the runes shimmering but intact.
"—it fights back," Sirius finished, exhaling slowly.
Harry watched, transfixed, as Sirius worked through the remaining layers. Each rune dissolved with a quiet hum, the energy shifting and swirling with every step. Finally, with a final intricate wand motion—a looping figure-eight—Sirius whispered, "Finite Circuitum."
The last of the runes faded, and the stone beneath them glowed faintly before sinking into the ground with a soft, mechanical click. The waterfall trembled slightly, and then the water split apart, revealing a dark, arched opening carved into the rock.
Sirius stood, lowering his wand as he studied the newly revealed passage. "There we go," he said, "That's how you dismantle a magical seal."
Harry stared at the entrance. "What do you think's inside?"
Sirius's eyes gleamed with a mixture of caution and excitement. "Only one way to find out."
The passage beyond the waterfall was narrow, the air damp and cool. Sirius raised his wand, muttering, "Lumos," and the tip of it illuminated the space ahead with a white glow. Harry followed suit, his own wand casting flickering light onto the walls around them.
The corridor was smooth stone, polished as if by countless years of water running over its surface. Ancient carvings lined the walls, runes and symbols similar to those on the stone outside. Here, though, they glimmered faintly, pulsing in time with their footsteps, as though the ruins were alive and aware of their presence.
The corridor opened into a vast hall, its ceiling soaring high above them. The light from their wands barely touched the edges of the space, leaving the corners in shadow. Pillars lined the walls, each inscribed with more runes, while the center of the room was dominated by a raised platform. Upon it rested an ornate pedestal, and atop that lay an ancient scroll.
Harry and Sirius exchanged a brief look, unspoken understanding passing between them.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"
Harry nodded. "Together."
With no more words, they stepped forward side by side, approaching the pedestal in unison. As they drew near, the runes on the walls flared to life, their glow intensifying until the entire room was bathed in a soft, golden light.
Sirius kept his wand raised, scanning the room cautiously. When nothing seemed to happen, he nodded toward the pedestal.
"Looks like it's safe enough," he said
As Harry reached the pedestal, he noticed the scroll was held in place by a simple metal clasp. Its surface was weathered but unmarred, the edges curling slightly with age. Harry carefully unfastened the clasp, the scroll unfurling with an almost deliberate grace. As he began to read aloud, the ancient words seemed to come naturally, as though they had been waiting for his voice.
"To those who seek the Path of Purity, know this: you stand where the great Merlin once walked. Five trials, scattered across the world, safeguard the balance of magic and the sanctity of the soul. This, the first path, tests those who seek renewal. Strength of body, clarity of mind, and purity of spirit shall guide the worthy to their goal."
Sirius stepped closer, his gaze flicking from the scroll to the runes on the walls. "Merlin," he muttered, his voice filled with awe. "This isn't just a ruin. It's a piece of history. A part of his legacy."
Harry glanced up from the scroll, his fingers brushing the edge of the parchment. "Do you think this is real? I mean… Merlin?"
Sirius nodded slowly. "If there's one thing I've learned, Harry, it's that legends often have a kernel of truth. And if anyone could've created something like this, it would be him."
Harry looked back down at the scroll, reading the final line to himself:
"Step forward with resolve, and let your journey begin."
As the last words of the scroll resonated in the chamber, the runes along the walls pulsed once, their golden light intensifying. The floor beneath Harry and Sirius shifted, trembling with the energy of ancient magic. Slowly, the glowing runes converged, forming a straight path leading toward a now-visible arched doorway.
Sirius lowered his wand slightly, glancing at Harry. "Well, it's not exactly subtle, is it?"
Harry gave a half-smile, clutching the scroll tightly. "Not subtle, but I don't think Merlin was trying to be."
The two moved forward, stepping onto the illuminated path. As they approached the doorway, the air grew warmer, charged with magic that felt alive. When they crossed the threshold, the heavy stone door slid shut behind them, sealing them in with a faint rumble.
They stood in a vast chamber unlike anything they'd seen before. Walkways stretched high above a seemingly endless void, illuminated by faintly glowing runes etched along the edges. Platforms hovered at various heights, some swaying gently as if caught in an invisible breeze. The air hummed with an almost musical energy.
"Alright," Sirius muttered, scanning the room. "Definitely not the Ministry's usual training course. What do you think?"
Harry stepped closer to the edge, his eyes following the nearest walkway. "It looks like we're supposed to cross… somehow."
Sirius nodded, pointing to three distant pedestals glowing faintly in the distance. "Bet you a Chocolate Frog those are what we need to activate."
"Three?" Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "Because one or two wouldn't be enough of a challenge?"
"Welcome to ancient magic," Sirius replied dryly. He raised his wand, muttering, "Vestigium Viæ."
The runes along the closest walkway flared briefly, revealing faint glowing marks on the safe sections of the path. Sirius's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Looks like we've got some help."
The first walkway was deceptively straightforward, but as they reached the halfway point, a rumble echoed through the chamber. A section of the platform groaned and tipped precariously to one side.
"Move!" Sirius barked, grabbing Harry by the arm and pulling him forward just as the section gave way. The stone crumbled into the void, vanishing without a sound.
Harry stumbled forward, catching his balance. "That was close."
"And it's only the beginning," Sirius replied. He gestured ahead with his wand. "Stick close. We'll take it one section at a time."
As they pressed on, the challenges intensified. The walkways began to shift faster, sections collapsing or rising unexpectedly. At one point, Harry slipped, nearly falling off an unsteady platform, but Sirius caught him with a quick Summoning Charm.
The final stretch toward the first pedestal proved the most challenging. A sudden jolt shook the chamber, and the platform Sirius stood on began drifting away.
"Harry!" he called, his voice urgent. "You'll have to go on without me. I'll cover you from here."
Harry hesitated, but Sirius's nod was firm. "You've got this," he said. "Just keep moving."
Swallowing his nerves, Harry darted forward, weaving between crumbling walkways and leaping to more stable sections. Runes flickered as he approached the pedestal, guiding him to a narrow ledge. Reaching the pedestal, he pressed his hand to the glowing rune at its center.
The platform beneath him steadied, and a beam of light shot upward, illuminating a section of the labyrinth.
Sirius's voice called from behind. "Two more to go, Harry!"
They reunited on a larger platform, where Sirius took the lead for the next segment. Together, they navigated more treacherous terrain, their teamwork becoming seamless. Sirius's spellwork illuminated unstable paths, while Harry's reflexes kept them moving swiftly.
The second pedestal required both of them to activate simultaneous runes, testing their coordination. The third was guarded by a magical construct—a floating orb of light that emitted bursts of force. Sirius countered its attacks with precise Shield Charms, giving Harry the opening he needed to reach the pedestal.
With all three pedestals activated, the chamber rumbled once more. A central platform descended from above, its surface etched with swirling patterns. Sirius and Harry regrouped, panting but exhilarated.
As they stepped onto the central platform, it began to rise, carrying them toward a swirling portal of golden light.
"Not bad," Sirius said, resting his hands on his knees. "For an old wizard, Merlin really knew how to keep people on their toes."
Harry gave a breathless laugh. "You think this is his idea of fun?"
Sirius smirked. "Probably. Let's see what's next."
Without hesitation, they stepped into the portal together, the light engulfing them as they braced for second trial.
The heavy stone door groaned as it slid shut behind them, leaving Harry and Sirius in a smaller, circular chamber. The air was warmer here, and the walls were lined with shimmering runes that pulsed gently in hues of silver and blue. In the center of the room, a pedestal stood, much like the one they had encountered earlier, though this one was adorned with an intricate crystal globe resting atop it.
Sirius let out a low whistle, glancing around. "If the first trial was meant to get the blood pumping, I'd wager this one's more of a brain-teaser."
Harry walked cautiously toward the pedestal, the runes on the walls growing brighter with every step. "Think it'll spell it out for us like last time?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Only one way to find out." Sirius motioned for Harry to proceed.
As Harry reached the pedestal, the crystal globe flared to life, projecting a shimmering screen of light above it. Words etched themselves into existence, their ancient script shifting into English as if adapting to their comprehension.
The Trial of the Mind:
"Perception is but a fragment of truth. Only clarity and understanding shall guide the seeker forward."
Sirius stepped beside Harry, his brow furrowing. "That's vague enough to be annoying."
Before Harry could respond, the runes on the walls pulsed in unison, their light spiraling toward the crystal globe. The chamber darkened except for a central projection that burst forth—a shimmering, three-dimensional array of floating, interconnected symbols, each glowing faintly in gold, blue, or silver.
Harry and Sirius stepped closer, their faces bathed in the shifting light.
"What do you reckon?" Sirius murmured, eyeing the complex network of shapes and lines.
"It looks like… a constellation map?" Harry guessed, though the arrangement didn't match anything familiar.
Sirius frowned, his wand raised as if to prod the illusion. "More like a magical matrix. Look at how they're linked. This isn't random."
As the two studied the projection, the symbols began shifting on their own, their connections glowing brighter. A faint, rhythmic hum filled the room, and golden runes carved themselves into the floor at their feet.
Harry squinted at the new text, as he read aloud:
"Each symbol binds to its neighbor. Each choice reshapes the path. Harmonize the flow, and the truth shall reveal itself."
Harry stepped forward extending a hand toward one of the gold symbols. As his fingers brushed its surface, it glowed brighter, sending a ripple of light down its connecting lines. The neighboring symbols dimmed, and one of the blue shapes turned silver.
"Did you see that?" Harry turned to Sirius. "Moving one changes the others."
"Definitely not random," Sirius said, stepping closer to examine the lattice. "There's a pattern. The colors—gold, blue, silver—they must mean something."
Harry nodded. "Maybe they're properties of magic. Strength, clarity, and harmony?"
Sirius tilted his head thoughtfully. "That could fit. And look at this." He pointed to the connections between the symbols. "These lines—some are brighter than others. I think they represent the flow of energy. We need to balance it across the grid."
"How?" Harry asked, eyeing the shifting shapes warily.
Sirius tapped his wand against his palm. "By trial and error, if we have to. But we should start with the center. That glowing one seems to be the anchor."
Harry and Sirius began cautiously, Harry adjusting the central symbol while Sirius observed the changes it caused across the projection. The golden connections flared and dimmed, and the colors shifted unpredictably at first.
Harry rotated the central cluster slightly, aligning its gold and silver symbols. A faint hum reverberated through the room, and a portion of the lattice steadied, its lines glowing evenly.
"That's progress," Sirius said, a grin tugging at his lips. "Let's try reinforcing the edges next. If we stabilize them, it might stop the whole thing from wobbling like a drunk Hippogriff."
Harry stifled a laugh but nodded. "Alright. Your turn."
Sirius reached for a cluster near the outer edge of the grid. With a careful twist of his hand, he brightened the blue symbol and dimmed the surrounding gold ones. The ripple effect was immediate—the lattice glowed brighter, but several connections on the opposite side began to fade.
"Unbalanced," a deep, resonant voice announced, sending a faint tremor through the floor.
"Great," Sirius muttered. "Even the ruin has opinions."
They pressed on, each adjustment more deliberate than the last. Sirius focused on identifying patterns in the lattice, calling out suggestions while Harry manipulated the symbols. Each successful move sent a harmonious chime through the chamber, and runes on the walls began to light up in response.
"Careful with that cluster," Sirius warned as Harry reached for a trio of silver symbols. "If you overbalance it, we'll have to start again."
Harry nodded, sweat beading on his brow. He rotated the symbols slowly, aligning their glow with the lines extending toward the center. The lattice pulsed, its light steadying.
"That's it," Sirius said, his voice tinged with excitement. "One more move should do it."
Harry adjusted the final cluster—a small group of gold and blue symbols. The moment they aligned, a brilliant light engulfed the lattice, and the symbols collapsed inward, merging into a single glowing glyph. The projection shrank, the energy condensing until it was absorbed into the crystal globe.
A low chime echoed through the room as the walls brightened, bathing the chamber in a golden glow.
"We did it," Harry said
Sirius clapped him on the back. "You mean you did it. That last move was all you."
Before Harry could reply, the wall opposite them rumbled, splitting open to reveal another passage. Cool air drifted through the gap, carrying the faint scent of parchment and herbs.
Sirius took a step forward, his wand held at the ready. "Looks like the second trial is complete. Shall we?"
Harry gave him a resolute nod. "Let's finish this."
Side by side, they stepped into the new corridor, the glow of their wands lighting the way ahead.