After a fun, late night out with Charlie, Tracey had finally fallen asleep at some point in the very early hours of the morning in a heap on her bed. She hadn’t bothered changing out of her regular clothes, but she had managed to take off her shoes and slip under the covers. She was still a little wired but also exhausted, so falling asleep didn’t take very long. When the dream materialized around her, she was standing in the middle of Hogwarts. Expecting to see old classmates and professors, she soon realized that she was completely alone in one of the exterior hallways.
“Hello?” She called out. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was a dream of some sort, but she still pressed forward to see if she could find someone. There was a sinking feeling that someone was following her, but each time she turned back, no one was there.
Following one of the moving staircases, she ended up in front of the Great Hall. She gazed up at the large doors and with a shrug, reached forward for one of the handles and pulled it open. She’d expected the room to be empty as the rest of Hogwarts somehow seemed to be, but when she stepped inside she saw someone she only partly recognized. Fenwick, she thought. Someone who had died long before she ever walked the halls of Hogwarts as a child. That was when she knew that this was either another one of Atlantis’ weird dreams or some odd dream her own subconscious was making up. At least this time there wasn’t any candy corn to be seen.
The man turned around once she entered, and she gave him a half-hearted wave. “Hi. Do you have any idea what’s going on? Because I definitely don’t. Is this a dream or….” Her voice trailed off as she approached him.
Benjy had been in the midst of a lovely evening of his own. A quiet night with books and thoughts had fallen into a light sleep slumped in his chair. And as the sleep faded, he found himself once again in the Department of Mysteries. Instead of the wired door with its ominous countdown, moments away from ending him, he found himself in the Death Room. Standing on the dais, he watched the undulating cloud move back and forth invitingly before, with a breath, he decided to step through it.
The feeling of floating had taken him by surprise, but all the greater shock was coming to rest in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. He looked round, waiting to see if this was another of Atlantis’ tricks or if he was actually back in England but now some kind of ruddy ghost. Instead, when he heard bootheels scuff on the pavement, he turned to see one of the young witches he met in Atlantis.
Not dead. He breathed. Probably not dead. Benjy’s entire form was coated in a pall, his deep blue eyes pale and glassy.
“I … I’m not sure. How does it usually work when it’s an Atlantis thing?”
“That usually depends on the thing,” Tracey said. “I was stuck in a dream a month or two ago with someone I didn’t really know. I think it was supposed to be my dream, but they somehow ended up in it with me.” She still hadn’t completed sorted out how that happened, but it hadn’t happened again so she left it alone. “But I think that was more him struggling with his natural ability than Atlantis.”
Tracey looked around them and over the Great Hall. How long had it been since she’d been here? Probably years. She’d visited Hogwarts a couple of times over the years, but she was fairly sure she hadn’t been in the Great Hall since shortly after… that day.
There was a loud banging noise outside of the doors, and Tracey quickly turned, pulling out her wand from her back pocket as she did. It was her wand, but something felt wrong. Like she was no longer connected to it somehow. “Should we stay here?” She asked him. “Or do you think we should venture out and try to find a way back to Atlantis… or to wake up?”
“If it were me, I’d start looking for a way back to Atlantis. Hogwarts is full of some completely bloody disturbing doors.” Benjy ran his fingers through his hair and turned away from the loud noise, intent to go away from it. Leading him to the dais where many of the Professors sat during the feasts, he opened a door and blinked quickly.
Through the doorway, there was a room that looked very like the Death Room in the Department of Mysteries.
“ … wrong door,” he told her brusquely. “We need to move now.”
Tracey nodded in agreement and followed Benjy through the doorway into.. Oh wow. She'd never been into the Department of Mysteries let alone a place like this. She was stuck between still being nervous but also in awe at what she was seeing here.
“This is..- ” The sound of laughter caught her attention and cut off her words. Only, it wasn't the type of laughter that put her at ease. It was the low but almost maniacal laughter that sent a chill up her spine. A dark, shrouded figure flew past them, and Tracey raised her wand while sticking close to Benjy.
The figure moved quickly past them again, and Tracey could feel her heart racing. “You're right. We need to get out of here,” she stated just as the figure appeared in front of them. Only it wasn't just a figure any longer but the unmistakable face of the person she hated the most in this world and every other. Her father.
“Leaving so soon?” Rookwood asked with a sneer, looking between both of them.
The familiar black projectile moving up and down the columns heralded the arrival of a Death Eater. Benjy, at the ready, waited to see what would transpire. He insinuated himself between Tracey and the figure, stepping in front of her protectively. His ashen complexion got a jolt of colour, however, the moment Augustus Rookwood revealed himself. An icy ball formed in the pit of his stomach but he swallowed, determined to act the part of the hero.
“Oh, I dunno, Gus. Got any wired up bombs for me to defuse for fun?”
Even though it made sense that Benjy knew who Rookwood was, it still caught Tracey a little by surprise. They both fought in the same war, and she was part of the next generation.
“I'd be happy to oblige if you'd like one to tinker with again. You put on an excellent show last time.” Rookwood looked smug and pleased with himself.
“Aren't you supposed to be locked up in Azkaban? Again?” She spit out with disdain. Alternate reality or not, he looked very real standing in front of them. She stayed close to Benjy but stepped out next to him.
“I couldn't pass up the chance to pay you both a visit, could I? I do hope your defensive spells have improved since our last meeting, my dear.”
Benjy sneered when Rookwood mentioned defensive spells to Tracey, as if there had to be some connection between them that went beyond trading curses in an unfamiliar battle … it felt like they knew one another much too well. “Rookwood, you bag of wind. Shut your trap and stand there like a good boy.”
He wasn’t about to be killed twice. He let his wand arc upward and over the doorway, intending to loop the man in a fiery lasso to quickly (and painfully) extinguish him.
Tracey shot daggers with her eyes at the man, still holding her wand ready. With Benjy going on offense, she stayed ready to thwart any other spells that might come their way. As expected, one did. Battle spells had never been her forte, and she'd been out of practice for several years, but Tracey had long practiced how to block a curse cast her way. She didn't know if it was the same curse Rookwood had hit her with years ago, but her reaction came as quickly as if it had been. The curse rebounded and knocked into him just as Benjy's lasso had looped around his frame and began to catch fire.
“Let's get out of here,” Tracey said and started moving past Rookwood. Whether or not this was real, a dream, or a mix of both, she didn't want to stand in front of her father for another moment. She could hear his cries from the fire, and she secretly hoped that the curse she'd deflected had been exactly the one he'd cursed her with years ago.
Benjy nodded and grabbed Tracey’s hand -- “Come this way,” he told her. “There’s a side door.” While packing his questions and his discoveries away for later, he was at the present fixated on getting them free of the dying Death Eater. As they rounded the Death Room, another door appeared from the wall and sprang open. This time, it framed a verdant meadow with sun-dappled wildflowers.
“ … well, it’s supposed to be the Time Room,” he said breathlessly, pitching his voice lower toward her to be heard over Rookwood. “But this is not it. Do we go? I say we go. It has to be better than this.”
She was surprised to see the new door open, especially with what was on the other side, but she nodded to Benjy without hesitation. “We go.” The further away they were able to get from that room, the better. With a nod, they both stepped through the doorway and almost immediately the door disappeared and they were in the middle of the meadow. She knew that there likely had to be something more to it than it appeared, but for now she was at least thankful to be out of the Death Room and away from Rookwood.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, Tracey turned to Benjy. “He killed you, didn’t he? Rookwood.” It was the only thing that made sense since Benjy seemed as happy to see the man as she had.
Standing in the meadow, breathless with the exertion of facing him again, he nodded. “I was onto him,” Benjy explained. “And he rigged a trap … people die in the Department of Mysteries so often, it would be easy to sweep under the rug.” He kept his eye on the door, which slowly faded from view.
Then, to Tracy -- “You’re his family.”
Even though she’d suspected the connection, Tracey still didn’t like hearing the confirmation no matter how many people she’d known he’d killed over the years. Once she slowly started to catch her breath and feel her heartbeat come back down to a normal rate, she nodded in return. “I’m his daughter,” she replied but then clarified, “Biologically. I was raised by my adoptive father, a Muggle, and I found out about him after the Battle of Hogwarts when he gave me this.”
Lifting up her shirt a bit, she revealed the small scar that still remained on her side from the blood curse he’d given her. It was meant to kill her but much more slowly and painfully than if he’d simply gotten it over with at the battle.
Benjy’s eyes widened as he beheld her scar -- “A blood curse. Has it been cured?” Rookwood would, of course, levy such a spell upon his own daughter. Particularly if he found her to be a traitor to his cause. He could not help but reach out and press his palm against Tracey’s shoulder.
“You stood up to him here, you faced that fear.”
Tracey nodded as she lowered her shirt. “Yes. It was through the whole ordeal that I found out I had a half brother, and he was able to help cure it.” She smiled a little at his note of encouragement. Talking about the curse again made her think of Marcus, and she wondered what he would have thought about the fun family confrontation. Although, even if he were still in Atlantis, she wasn’t sure she would give him all of the details.
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” she said with a grin. “That lasso of fire was pretty impressive. Maybe you can show that to me sometime. You know, once we wake up, get back to Atlantis, or find our way out of whatever this is.” Though, even as she said the words, Tracey felt like something or someone was calling her back.
“I’ll show you. Let’s just get …” He frowned, feeling a tug round his middle. There was something pushing him out of this world and calling him back somewhere. It didn’t feel like it did. He didn’t find himself worrying after it. The look on Tracey’s face told him something was up with her, too. And though he opened his mouth to speak, the silence engulfed as he woke to a hospital bed and a hand pressed into his.