The Wizard's Guide to Timelords and Other Demons Book 1: The Forgotten War

Legacy of Valsillon

The surface of the Black Lake was serene and glasslike with barely a ripple to disfigure the reflection of the half-moon shining above in the unusually clear skies. It was the perfect night for a robbery. Professors Snape and McGonagall stood on the shore at the lake's edge gazing out across the icy waters, uneasy about the idea of spending the next several hours searching beneath them.

Professor McGonagall had already viewed the memories contained within the vial Professor Dumbledore had given them, but they were not as instructive as she had hoped they might be. Perhaps the protective spells Dumbledore had spoken of prevented him from revealing too many details, even through a sharing of thoughts. Unfortunately, the wispy memory essence itself had dissipated after a single viewing, so Professor McGonagall was not able to review them. Furthermore, when she had attempted to write down the memories while she remembered them, her hastily scrawled notes faded from the parchment almost as fast as she could transcribe them. It quickly became evident that whatever protection charm had been invoked so long ago was still completely effective, and quite thorough.

What alarmed McGonagall even more was that within a few minutes of receiving the instructions, the memory of them began to fade from her mind until she had lost them altogether. Fortunately, her inexplicable onset of amnesia was accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of assurance that the relevant memories would return to her in full clarity at the moment that she needed them.

The sound of splashing water coming from out on the lake caught their attention. About twenty or so yards offshore, a vaguely human shape floated half-way out of the water. It was waving its arms energetically in the air as if it clearly wanted to be noticed.

"That would seem to be our guide," Snape said.

Prior to setting out, Professor Snape had sent word to the Merpeople living within the Black Lake, asking them for assistance in navigating the water's murky depths. Although the relationship between Wizards and Merpeople was often shaky at best, those that inhabited the Black Lake were often willing to assist Hogwarts staff and students from time to time, mainly out of respect for Professor Dumbledore who had always treated them kindly.

Snape reached into a large satchel at his side and produced a small bag of cloth from which he removed a slimy, green, twisted bundle of what appeared to be small rodent tails. He carefully separated the greasy strands into two equal parts and handed one of them to Professor McGonagall, who immediately recoiled at the sight of it.

"Gillyweed? I think not, Severus!" She objected. "I will not be putting that repulsive glob of muck into my mouth!"

"But I was under the impression that you had a fondness for Gillywater, Professor." Snape said.

"Yes, and I also enjoy a good cup of tea, Severus," said McGonagall, "but you certainly would never catch me swallowing a mouthful of dried-out leaves now, would you?"

"I'm afraid that Gillyweed is the most effective method, of which I am familiar, that will allow us to travel safely under the water, Professor." said Snape. "Perhaps you know of a better solution?"

"I believe I may have one," she responded, producing her wand from her robe.

Professor McGonagall waded into the water until she was about ankle deep and then raised her arms high into the air in front of her. Professor Snape took a few steps backwards up the shore as a precaution. McGonagall then projected her voice loudly and clearly as she directed her incantation to the tranquil waters of the lake before her.

"Ligatum cuniculum oceanus!"

After a few seconds of quiet stillness, the water at McGonagall's feet began to bubble and churn. A line of bubbling water shot out from the shore in the direction of the startled Merperson, who dove quickly into the water and streaked out of the way. The line began to roil and expand, and the water where McGonagall stood pealed back, to the left and to the right, exposing the silt beneath her feet. The lake in front of her started to unzip along the line of turbulent bubbles, unveiling a narrow swath of the lake floor as it expanded further away from the shoreline. When the breach had reached thirty or so feet out into the lake, the surface waters no longer parted, but instead wrapped around the top of what appeared to be a tunnel of air, about eight feet wide, pushing back the water as it descended into the lake.