“This is the lowest level of the Ministry of Magic, Potter. It goes by many names. Some wizards refer to it as the ‘Lower Ministry’ or the ‘Unknown City’ of the Ministry of Magic. In this, they unknowingly display their ignorance and weakness, for they do not understand what is down here, and they fear what they do not understand. Down here is the Department of Mysteries, accessed only by the Styx Hallway.” This floor seemed especially daunting, for unlike the straight layout of the other floors, this hallway had no doors before it veered off around the corner. The hallway was filled with a dank mist.
Albus then noticed Snape walking over to the side of the hallway where a hippogriff stood. Snape bowed low to the ground. Albus watched as the hippogriff studied the wizard, then bowed back. “Buckbeak, Mr. Potter is on a journey through the depths of the Ministry,” he said to the hippogriff. “You will guide us through the Department of Mysteries until we reach the gateway into its rooms.” Snape then motioned for Albus to come over. “For security reasons, the hallway to the Department of Mysteries is laid out like a labyrinth. We should never be able to reach its depths on our own; we must use the hippogriff’s guidance.” Snape mounted, and Albus got on behind him. Without warning, Buckbeak took off down the hallway, his enormous wings keeping them well above the ground.
As they flew through the corridors leading to the Department of Mysteries, Albus noticed a mix of people--all of them angry. Some jumped about the hallway, lashing out on the other inhabitants, often without even the slightest provocation. Wherever their feet hit the ground, flames burst out under them. One such person, a portly man with a magenta-colored face, shouted at Albus and Snape at the top of his lungs: “Another Potter! Curse you, as well as your freakshow father!” Albus noticed the corners of Snape’s mouth twitch.
Confused, Albus looked up at Snape. “Vernon Dursley, your father’s uncle.”
Those who weren’t jumping around and picking fights all had enormous smiles on their faces. Albus studied them, puzzled. Even as they muttered curses under their breath and their eyes glared, their mouths stretched into unnaturally wide grins at everyone around them. It was among these that Albus spotted another familiar face.
“Merlin’s beard! It’s Moaning Myrtle!” Hearing this, the ghost broke out in loud wails--but wails that came out as a strangely happy tune. Her caterwauling seemed to agitate the people of the hallway even more.
“Professor, what’s wrong with them?”
“This is the Maze of Mysteries, where the wrathful and sullen wander. Those who were especially prone to take out their anger on others during their lifetime were sent here, where their fiery tempers manifest themselves physically whenever they touch the floor. Those who spent their lives sulking have now been charmed: their faces are eternally stretched into a smile against their will. Their mouths can only speak in cheerful songs, which they hate; their minds are always full of these joyful sounds, but it only deepens their resentment.”
No comments:
Post a Comment