The weekend's morning light could not pierce the Forbidden Forest's densely layered canopy.
Douglas and Dumbledore walked side by side along the familiar path to Hagrid's Hut.
They did not stop, heading straight through the thriving pumpkin patch.
At last, they stopped before the enormous oak tree.
The portal's glow revolved slowly in the center of its trunk, like a deep blue vortex.
The two stepped inside, one after the other.
Light and shadow twisted, and the scent of grass and earth was instantly replaced by dry, warm air scented with wood shavings and herbs.
The valley of Silvermane Academy brimmed with vigorous life, as always.
This time, however, they did not linger in the valley, but headed straight for the mountain behind it.
There lay an area concealed by dense, almost impassable shrubbery.
Dumbledore merely gave his wand a gentle wave.
The tangled thorns and vines silently withdrew to either side like well-trained soldiers.
They revealed a path to the mountainside barely wide enough for one person.
An inconspicuous opening in the rock face was shrouded in layers of powerful Confundus Charms.
"Sweet Allergy."
Dumbledore spoke the peculiar password to the bare rock face.
The stone slid inward without a sound, revealing a warm, brightly lit space.
Rather than a cave, it was more like a fully equipped study for a recluse.
Flames crackled in the fireplace, dispelling the last trace of cold from the cave.
The shelves were filled with books on History of Magic and law, and rolls of parchment lay neatly stacked on a broad desk.
A stooped man sat in an armchair beside the fireplace, absorbed in a Ministry of Magic document.
Barty Crouch.
The severity and cold harshness in his eyes had long since worn away, settling into the stillness of a dried-up well.