Chapter 47

Sorry this update took so long! Feel free to refresh yourself on previous chapters. Enjoy!

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Zoe

By the time we arrive at Beauxbatons Academy for Magic, the sun has long since vanished beneath the horizon. 

The grand chateau, which serves as the school's main vessel for its students, is shrouded in a cloak of darkness, which is starkly contrasted by the pale splashes of moonlight that illuminate the gardens surrounding it. I assume the vast maze of flowers and shrubbery around the castle have magical properties, for they seem to absorb the light of the moon itself, trapping it within leaves and petals that I think must emit a faint, white glow only at night. The castle itself is monstrous and intimidating; it's all sharp points and jagged edges, turrets ending in thorns and walls jutting off in steep edges. It's a stark contrast both to the curvature of the Hogwarts architecture and the delicacy of the glowing garden. 

We are greeted -- or lack thereof -- by a man that looks entirely average in every aspect of his appearance. The sweep of chestnut hair atop his head is thinning out, much like the skin that covers his bones. He wears charcoal grey robes and simple round glasses, along with a look of perplexed exhaustion and anxiety. 

I don't know what I was expecting, but the sole presence of this lone wizard surprises me. He fixes me with a vague look of perplexion when I step out of the carriage, as if the mere sight of me provokes conflict in him, but he quickly regains his composure. 

"Zoe Fletcher, I understand? I wish I could say it's a pleasure to finally meet you, but under these circumstances, I'm afraid that it isn't for any of us. And you are Blaise Zabini, I presume?"

I turn my head to see that Blaise is now standing behind me, having exited the carriage as well. Although it's barely detectable, I don't miss the thin twang of skepticism in the man's voice as he addresses Blaise. 

"I wish we had time for further introductions, but my orders were to escort you straight to the headmaster's office on arrival. The general student body of Beauxbatons is not to be made aware of your presence here -- hence why this is all taking place during the nighttime. Now, follow me, and once we've entered the castle, not a word from either of you until I say so."

I've only a moment to look over at Blaise, who raises an eyebrow at me, before the man, whose essence is on par with the blunt solemnity of his voice, strides off towards the castle.

We trail closely behind him for what must be twenty minutes; through the fluorescent gardens, past a large fountain, up the front staircase.

The interior of the castle itself is stupefying. The walls are made of chiseled white stone, into which intricate patterns have been carved. Upon closer look, I see that the carvings are not just patterns, but images, stories: sculptures of nature that feature the sun, sea, and land, as well as godlike figures from French mythology. 

It takes me a moment to realize that the marbled faces are staring back at me, and they can blink, speak to each other, move about the walls with surprising liquidity. Once gain, the enchantments made possible by magic have left me in awe. 

Finally, at the end of a long and narrow hallway, we stop before a pair of tall double doors. The man draws his wand from within the depths of his robes, tracing an intricate pattern across the surface of both doors. At this, they seem to melt away, right down into the floor beneath them, as though hot magma has been poured over them, reducing them to a molten liquid state. 

The three of us step forward into the small, square, and windowless room that lies beyond. I instantly feel claustrophobic. I look over at Blaise, whose chest is mere inches from the back of my shoulder, as though he'll be able to tell me what we're doing in here. 

Just then, the floor begins to move. 

I don't know how I know it, but I'm certain that we're shooting downwards, rapidly descending into the depths of the Earth. My ears pop, gravity pushing up on my stomach. Just as a prickle of panic starts to erupt in my chest, the sensation is over. 

The four walls around us melt into the floor just as the double doors had, and beyond them lies a room like none I've ever seen before. 

The walls are not truly walls. Rather, they are large glass panels beyond which a dark and murky body of water expands infinitely on all sides. Floating around within it are a variety of glowing marine creatures: fish with glowing yet transparent bodies, strangely skeletal looking water-dwellers in a variety of neon colors, creatures with long, thin fins from which glowing bulbs dangle like christmas lights. Further out, I can make out the swaying bodies of underwater plants, and a couple of large black masses. 

Positioned on the furniture about the room are a host of different characters.

Nearest to us is an athletically-built man with dark hair and a weathered face. Seated behind an intimidating desk at the center of the room is a thin woman with ice-white hair and skin to match. Her fingers are smothered by a variety of glittering rings that loosely resemble large beetles. The other people are spread about the room in groups of two and three. 

As everyone in the room gains consciousness of our presence, they fall quiet.  

"Well, let us not waste any time in getting started -- we're already sixteen years behind You-Know-Who and his clan." The ring-clad woman breaks the silence. She rises from behind her desk. "My name is Ingrid Adler, professor of potions. I happen to be serving as the temporary headmaster of Beauxbatons while Olympe Maxime is away on business regarding the Order of the Phoinex. That's another organization dedicated to taking down You-Know-Who.

The man who greeted you and led you down here is Martin Madaris, professor of charms. And over there, " -- Ingrid points to the athletically-built man, whose dark grey robes match the shadows beneath his eyes -- "is Vaughn Yun, NEWT-level Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and perhaps the most important member of this organization."

Vaughn does not give me any indication of a greeting -- rather, he stares me down from across the room, his eyes inquisitive and his figure completely still. 

"Obviously," Ingrid continues, gesturing towards the various others in the room, "we three are not the only members of this organization. But we're the names you need to know -- for now, at least. 

Our goal is, and always has been, to help you succeed. You know by now that a prophecy was created with the intention of forcing you and your twin brother to fight to the death. Our job is to make sure you come out on the other side of that fight alive. Your survival, and your brother's death, is imperative to winning the war against You-Know-Who. Your brother has likely already developed powers like none the wizarding world has ever seen before, and I'm willing to bet that You-Know-Who has turned him into a horcrux by now, too. If he succeeds in not only killing you, but surviving the fight, he has the potential to become one of the most powerful and destructive dark wizards of all time, second only to You-Know-Who. With him and You-Know-Who working side by side, the chances of defeating them would be slim to none. 

The responsibility to eliminate the threat that is your twin brother lies solely with you. Albus Dumbledore came to me years ago with the intention of forming an organization that would help you do just that, and here we are now. 

My job is to stay in contact with the Order of the Phoinex to keep us updated on You-Know-Who's whereabouts and activities. I also keep tabs on the Tines -- your biological family -- through several private sources of mine. I brief the organization on whatever I'm able to find out each time we meet. I also work with Martin to coordinate plans of action, as well as emergency procedures, in the case that they become necessary. Martin is the head of overseeing your safety and keeping your current location a secret. 

Vaughn is the one who you'll interact with most frequently, though. He'll be personally training you in preparation for your eventual battle against your brother." 

Again, I look over at the man with the weathered face, who I now know to be Vaughn Yun. While his gaze has not yet diverted from me, he refuses to offer any other sign that he's aware of my presence.

Warily, I think to myself how difficult it might be to work with a person like him. 

"You're probably wondering what our plan of action is right now, and what the hell you're supposed to be doing to get started on all of this." Ingrid continues. "This may not be what you want to hear, but you need to lie low for the time being. We all do. You-Know-Who, as well as your brother and your parents, will be furious that you managed to escape them up in the Caucasus Mountains. If they get even the slightest hint of your whereabouts, they will jump at the chance to kill you. Hell, they won't hesitate to kill us all if they decide it's necessary. They might do it even if it's not. 

Given that, and the fact that we don't yet know much about where they are and what they've been getting up to recently, we've decided our best course of action for the time being is to proceed with caution. Upper-level members of the organization, such as Martin and myself, will work on determining their whereabouts and assessing potential threats. You, on the other hand, are to start training with Vaughn immediately."

Ingrid goes quiet for a moment. Then, she turns to Blaise. 

"As for you. I'm sure Albus has already informed you of your role in all this. At the moment, I don't have any instructions for you. But expect them to come soon."

Blaise gives a solemn nod from beside me, but doesn't speak. My heart twists. 

Ingrid's face suddenly softens. She takes a few steps towards me, but stays out of arm's reach. 

"I know this must seem impossible for you. I know that. But it isn't. We're all here for a reason -- the same reason: we believe you have a chance. And if you're going to win this thing, then you have to start believing it, too." 

I try to let these words comfort me. Try to allow them to wrap their thin, stick arms around me in a supportive embrace. 

But my lungs feel as though they're filled with water -- thick, salty water that has pooled up in my esophagus and flooded my throat. 

I can't breathe. On the inside, I'm drowning.