The Potter Twins and the Half-Blood Prince {6}

24. The Cave

"Dancing all alone to the sound of an enemy's song I'll be lost until you find me fighting on my own in a war that's already been won
I'll be lost until you come and find me here" - Part II, Paramore

I can smell salt and hear rushing waves; a light chilly breeze ruffles my hair as I look out at moonlit sea and star-strewn sky. We're standing upon a high outcrop of dark rock, foaming and churning below us. I glance over my shoulder. A towering cliff stands behind us, a sheer drop, black and faceless. A few large chunks of rocks, such as the one Harry, Dumbledore, and I are standing, look as though they have broken away from the cliff face at some point in the past. It is a bleak, harsh view, the sea and the rock unrelieved by any tree or sweep of grass or sand.

"What do you think?" Dumbledore asks. He's so calm that he may as well be asking us if we think it's a good spot for a picnic.

"They brought kids from the orphanage here?" I ask, unable to imagine a less cozy spot for a day trip.

"Not here precisely," says Dumbledore. "There is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe the orphans were taken there for a little sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only ever Tom Riddle and his youthful victims who visited this spot. No Muggle count reach this rock unless they were uncommonly good mountaineers and boats cannot approach the cliffs, the waters around them are too dangerous. I imagine that Riddle climbed down; magic would have served better than ropes. And he brought two small children with him, probably for the pleasure of terrorizing them. I think the journey alone would have done it, don't you?"

I look up at the cliff again and feel goosebumps.

"But his final destination -- and ours -- lies a little father on. Come."

Dumbledore beckons us to the very edge of the rock where a series of jagged niches make footholds leading down to boulders that lay half-submerged in water and closer to the cliff. It was a treacherous descent and Dumbledore, hampered slightly by his withered hand, moves slowly. The lower rocks are slippery with seawater. I can feel flecks of cold salt spray hitting my face.

"Lumos," says Dumbledore, as we reach the boulder closest to the cliff face. A thousand flecks of golden light sparkles upon the dark surface of the water a few feet below where we crouch; the black wall of rock beside us is illuminated too.

"You see?" says Dumbledore quietly, holding his wand a little higher. I see a fissure in the cliff into which dark water is swirling.

"You will not object to getting a little wet?"

"No."

"Then take off your Invisibility Cloak -- there is no need for it now -- and let us take the plunge."

And with the sudden agility of a much younger man, Dumbledore slides from the boulder, lands in the sea, and begins to swim, with a perfect breaststroke, toward the dark slit in the rock face, his lit wand held in his teeth. Harry and I exchange an amused look, before pulling the cloak off and follow suit.

The water is icy; my waterlogged clothes billow around me and weigh me down. Taking deep breaths that fill my lungs with the tang of salt and seaweed, I struck out for the shimmering, shrinking light now moving deeper into the cliff.

The fissure soon opens into a dark tunnel that I can tell will be absolutely filled with water at high tide. The slimy walls are barely three feet apart and glimmer like wet tar in the passing light of Dumbledore's wand. A little way in the passageway curves to the left, and I see that it extends far into the cliff. We continue to swim in Dumbledore's wake, the tips of his benumbed fingers brushing the rough, wet rock.