Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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My feet feel somehow obligated to walk forward.
....what...in Merlin's beard?
I know I should stick with April. I know. I should. I'll go back. I will. Just...
...What in Merlin's beard?
'The Repository' is clearly what lies ahead, but I have never seen a place like this. I am compelled to enter. Bright blue light beckons me. Echoes of voices? Laughter? Music? They call to me over an ethereal rushing sound of mist. My eyes strain slightly as my pupils constrict with the brightness of the light. As if the extraordinary labyrinth of rooms we entered to get here weren't magnificent enough, what I thought was going to be some ruddy old cave is...well...
I'm speechless.
"Gobstones!" Ronan says on a breath. Seems everyone else's eyes are adjusting now, too. Weasley is speechless. Braga is fully talking to himself under his breath in what sounds like Portuguese. Spavin is sputtering various exclamations, most of them accentuated with, "what in the gulping gargoyles?!" Sharp approaches me from behind. Wide-eyed. Wordless.
Upon entering the doorway, I am immediately overwhelmed with the most familiar, nostalgic scent of...Merlin, it smells just like Feldcroft! I inhale, close my eyes, and the mix of green ivy, dew, vegetables, and loam is unmistakable. But my throat clenches as I realize I can hear Feldcroft, too – the babbling brook, the cadence of the birds. Unmistakable.
Completely spooked, I shake myself to my senses and step forward which somehow dissipates the scent and sound.
What. In Merlin's. Beard.
My eyes have finally adjusted to the blinding light. Ahead of me is a long bridgeway leading towards some kind of source of magic – large, tall, spinning – the shape of which I can't quite make out from so far away. Above it gently erupts a behemoth, blossoming flower into gentle, mesmerizing tendrils that stretch, wrap, loop, and braid themselves into a forest-like canopy, above. Branches, leaves, flowers and vines of blue and white magic cling to the cavern's ceiling, periodically descending into overflowing magical baskets of even more magical flowers and plants which are additionally illuminated by intermittent hanging braziers of glowing fire all around the cavern. It reminds me of the canopy in April's Room of Requirement, only it's three times the size and even more alive with fire and glittering, dancing, breathing magic.
Looking up I can see the magical forms of a bald eagle and a long-eared bat playfully soaring throughout the canopy, streaks of glistening blue dissipating behind them.
The genesis of the magical power ahead seems to be feeding down the bridgeway and it's being siphoned to either side into colossal displays that completely prevent me from seeing over into the cavern below. To the right, a fine mist of blue magic erupts upward, creating the forms of countless, vast frames like a massive wall of mirrors. To the left, the same fine mist of magic cascades upward into a gentle kind of reverse waterfall that beckons me. As I approach, I hear the velveteen voice of a woman that I don't recognize.
