The Marauders: Year Seven Part Two

Edinburgh Castle

James and Lily had a good breakfast at a pub off High Street. James ordered two plates of bacon for himself, and ate it heartily. Lily took his tomatoes, and they shared the toast - James buttering it and putting on the raspberry jam for her, which made her smile. After they'd finished up, the pair of them stepped outside, the jingling bell causing their waiter to wave goodbye to them from the counter, and went wandering up the slushy cobblestone road toward Edinburgh Castle. 

As they climbed the steadily upward slope - passing the gift shop windows that featured whiskey and tartan, biscuits and stuffed Scottie Dogs - Lily exclaimed, "Oh I can't wait to see the castle!"

James laughed at her. "What? Why?" He was giving her a funny look, one eyebrow raised and his lip caught up on his tooth in that way that made her heart skip a beat.

"It's exciting!" she said defensively, and when his expression didn't change, she added, "It's a real castle, Potter!" 

"And what do you reckon Hogwarts is? A fake?" James teased, his smirk only deepening as it grew and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

Lily looked rather stricken by this, and stammered, "Well - I mean - I —- Oh shut it, Potter, it's going to be interesting!"

They joined a tour of the castle, walking up the winding pathway that corkscrewed through the towers and halls. It was a bit windy, and Lily stayed close to James as they looked about at the old cannons and swords and such. James pointed out a sword with rubies in the hilt and said, "Oi that one reminds me a bit of the legendary Sword of Gryffindor!"

"Perhaps it is it," laughed Lily.

"Nah, the sword hasn't been seen in ages," James answered, "Lost for centuries and such."

"Perhaps its been lying here for centuries in a muggle museum and no wizards had figured out it was one and the same yet," Lily suggested.

It was James's turn to look stricken and he puffed out his lower lip in thought, then stared rather closely at the sword, much to Lily's amusement. "Well," he mused, "They say it only appears to those few Gryffindors who Godric himself would've found worthy of it..." A lofty expression flitted across his face. "Perhaps I'm worthy and it is the Sword of Gryffindor."

"Or perhaps I'm worthy," Lily replied, jabbing him in the side.

James grinned, "You, Evans?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Do you even know how to wield a sword?" James chuckled.

"No; do you?"

James hesitated, then, "Touche." He paused. "That's a sword wielding word, that is. Touche."

"Yes and it means I've made a good strike," Lily replied.

"Is that what it means?" James said, "Makes sense."

Lily shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the display case where the sword lay under a spotlight, and down a narrow corridor, trying to catch up to the tour guide that had left them behind. James followed, looking about, the low light reflecting off his glasses. Suddenly he paused and she came to a stop a couple paces ahead to look back. "Hang on Evans," he said, and he took a couple steps backward, his palm on the wall.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

James grinned, running his fingers along the stones. "Looks as though the castle is exciting after all." He glanced behind him, then beyond her, and his lips tweaked up at the corner. "Fancy some real exploring?" he drew his wand and tapped it on the wall at the crack between stones. With a funny rush of moldy smelling air, some of the stones moved aside, revealing a dark passageway.

Lily stared at it, her eyes wide. "How did you --"

"There's a passageway rather like it in Hogwarts," James said, shrugging. The stones move aside by magic. You can sort of see the gap a bit if you look close enough when they're closed."

"But you weren't looking at it close enough - we were running past!"

"Trained eye, I s'pose," James replied with a shrug. Then he took a step in toward the corridor, shaking his wand with a mutter of, "Lumos." The wandlight flashed in the dark, lighting up the stone walls. From the ceilings hung cobwebs and there was a thick layer of dust over all the surfaces. A flight of stairs led sharply downward and away into the dark, further than the wandlight stretched. "Sirius would bleedin' love this," James said.

Lily glanced over her shoulder, supposing the tour guide wouldn't miss them, and she hurried after James. 

The stone door closed behind them once they'd moved down a couple steps and the darkness only deepened. Lily lit her wand, too, following closely behind James. She could feel the excitement radiating off him as they went.

"Obvious nobody's been down here for ages," James whispered.

"Yeah," Lily nodded, looking at the dust.

"You know, back in the day, every castle had at least one wizard on hand. You know, like Merlin who was from Arfderydd, which was down by Carlis area... Perhaps this was the lair of the wizard who worked here," James suggested. It was true that one could feel the magic vibrating in the air so strongly it was nearly audible, like a faint whistling that they could feel more than hear, zinging through their very skin.

They reached the bottom step, which came to a stop at another narrow corridor, and James raised his wand higher, trying to see what was down the way. He shrugged and looked back at Lily, and they continued on. He reckoned they'd gone down enough steps to put them far below High Street, and probably about even with the square they'd gone through to get to the inn. He was just deciding that perhaps it was just some kind of short cut to leaving the castle when they turned a corner and found themselves in a small, dark room.

The room was lined with shelves on all the walls, which was a hexagon shape rather than square. Each shelf was full to bursting with dusty old books, coated with cobwebs and scuttling spiders. There was an empty fireplace, odd knick-knacks cluttering the mantle, and a high-backed chair before it. In the corner was a small desk and stern looking chair. There were papers hanging on the walls and a small glow of a blue-bell flame, smoldering quietly in a lantern, the same sort as was in the secret passageway by the trophy room that marked the way to safety traverse the passage.

Only magic could produce flames of that sort.

"James." Lily's voice shook slightly. He turned. She was standing before the fireplace, her arm outstretched, pointing to the wall above the hearth. His eyes traveled upward and he looked to where her wand was pointing, the light casting shadows of the knick-knacks all about the room. But there was no mistaking what it was she was pointing at.

There, hanging on the wall, was a clock.

The most ancient clock either of them had ever seen.

The second hand alone seemed to be moving - but only slightly. It would tick the seconds between 57 and 58 over and over, and over again, like a flicker.

James stared at it, his jaw dropped opened. "What do you reckon is --" But he didn't finish his sentence.

For that is when the blue-bell flames flickered out.