The Unknown of the Order (Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery

Splitting Souls

When Barnaby woke the next morning, he discovered that a canvas wall had been hung in front of Jacob's bed, blocking his wing of the tent from view. Barnaby shimmied out of Elena's grasp and crept out the entrance to the tent. 

It was early; the dew still clung to the leaves and grass like fine jewelry as the creatures stretched their legs and began their search for breakfast. He'd always loved the forest in the early morning; after he awoke from some nightmare he'd come outside and breathe in air what was somehow fresher at this time and listen to the sound of peace before beginning his day.

How difficult life had seemed then. He let out and amused grunt, imagining the things that used to worry him in his school days. He'd get so worked up about an upcoming exam or being sent home for Christmas that he'd make himself physically ill. Now, he'd give anything to relive those days again.

Barnaby reached out and ran his fingers along the bark of the nearest tree trunk. It was a wiggentree. He let his eyes wander upward in search of the bowtruckles that were sure to call it home. Sure enough, some of the tree's higher branches appeared to be twitching, as the cleverly camouflaged creatures skittered up and down them in search of wood lice.

Barnaby's heart nearly exploded at the sight of them, though out of joy or grief he couldn't say. How he longed to be working with creatures again—to wake up each morning knowing the plan for the day, understanding what was going on and what to do, caring for something and helping it grow and thrive. Back then, his biggest worry was whether the erumpents would calf and perhaps the occasional poacher.

He watched the bowtruckles carry on with their business, unaware that the world outside their happy grove had changed into something monstrous, and that it would never, could never, be the same as it had been before.

Elena came to stand beside him, driven out of the tent by the angry voices that rose with each passing minute, disrupting the gentle creatures as they foraged and forcing them out of the clearing.

She yawned. "Good morning."

"Morning."

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. Barnaby stared up at the bowtruckles to avoid looking at her. She was another decision he'd have to make soon. He liked her, and he appreciated all she'd done for him after only knowing him a short time, but being with her made him feel...uncertain. 

"You call these wiggentrees, correct?" she asked, following his gaze to look up into the branches. Barnaby nodded. "They say that one will be protected from dark creatures as long as they touch the trunk."

Barnaby rested his hand on the trunk again. "Does it work for dark people, too?"

Elena shrugged. 

Perhaps they could remain in this clearing forever, protected from the darkness by the fortress of the wiggentree and its army of twiggy soldiers. 

"What will we do now?" she asked. 

Barnaby didn't answer. What could they do? His only intention had been to rescue Merula, and he could hear her raspy yells from within the tent, safe and sound. Should they try to rejoin Sarah and the others? He didn't know if they could find them again, and wasn't sure if he wanted to. He wondered if his parents' had given up searching for him. Perhaps he could go back to his job, hide away in forest groves or mountain caves and look after the creatures there. No, even if that would work, he knew he couldn't live with himself if he ran and hid while his friends risked their lives to end Voldemort's regime. No, he was in this fight; he just didn't understand how to win. 

Barnaby and Elena turned at the sound of the tent flaps being shoved aside and angry footsteps crunching on the forest floor. Merula was stalking toward them, her hair and eyes as wild as ever. Jacob was striding behind her.