Who: The Prewett twins What: Proof of concept When: Thursday night, 6 June Where: Outbuilding on the Prewett grounds Warnings: None significant.
When Caradoc Dearborn had gone missing and they'd investigated and wiped his home of any evidence he'd been in the Order, Fabian had kept Caradoc's toolbox. In part he'd done this because he thought Gideon might want some of the contents; in part he'd done it for reasons of guilt, whether personal or survivor's guilt. But while he'd in theory thought they might have to use the tools and techniques Caradoc had brought to the Order, Fabian hadn't expected to actually use them.
Now they needed to. The gift had been Caradoc's, but Fabian and Gideon were what they had, so the Prewetts were what the world was getting. If they could make a pendulum dowse work this time, Fabian thought they had a decent chance of making it work with the Sword, if they could get it.
"I've got a Muggle map," he told Gideon as he unrolled it onto the dusty floor of the old dog kennel. "I think it's vintage, possibly all the way back to the Grindelwald war. The only question is what we should use for the pendulum."
"That thing is huge! Why do you suppose they needed such detailed, large maps?" Gideon looked at the map, which centered on the Bristol Channel. "We'd best hope we don't end up looking underwater." Gideon looked between the map and Caradoc's collection of objects. "I think the elf-shot stone. It can work as a pendulum and also as a planchette." Another look at the maps: "We may need this one and the one to the north of it, but probably we're looking near the top of this map."
"We're going to need a step stool to make sure we've got enough coverage," Fabian grumbled. "It could be underwater now, you know. Coastlines change and if it's somewhere near a coastal village, who knows what the storms have done? That's how the Muggles lost Hallsands, after all." What had been left of Hallsands after the storm that had destroyed the village was now a wizarding seaside village where the Prewetts, among others, had a holiday cottage and spent parts of their summers when the twins had been boys.
Gideon grinned. "Let's hope it's in better shape than Hallsands. I see on the map that the local castle is called 'Dimlands'. Maybe it'll be there." He looked around the kennel. "No stepladder to hand, but I'll stand on that table to give it room to swing." Gideon threaded the cord through the hole in the stone, concentrating on his task and frowning. "I wish --" Whatever Gideon had been about to say was quickly replaced. "I wish I'd practiced this more in school."
Fabian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we could have spent a lot less time on the tea leaves and such and more on practical considerations. Might want to consider sticking charms on your hands and knees and dangling it from the ceiling."
Gideon laughed. "We'd end up with barfomancy. 'Where on the map did the potato chunks from last night's supper land? That's probably Wales." Gideon considered the kennel's height and added more length to the cord. "Alright, it's actually a good idea. I'm glad I don't have a hangover, though. It really would be difficult not to paint the map."
He put action to his words and shortly was walking across the ceiling. "Spot me. I don't want to paint the map brain-colored, either."
"Land on your head. It's the least important part," Fabian suggested, but his wand was at the ready.
"It's my most valuable asset, seeing that it's never been used. You could get a lot for a near-mint head like this in the right quarter…" Gideon was hanging from the inside of the kennel roof, his feet firmly planted on either side of an exposed beam, and lowered the stone on the string. "It's odd; I feel as if I'm part of the pendulum, and we haven't even begun." On that note, he started the ritual they'd learned from Caradoc and did his best to keep his movements neutral. He didn't want them to find themselves 10 miles too far inland because he'd sneezed.
Gideon released more of the line; the stone dropped lower. "Is it anywhere near Wales?" he asked his brother.
Fabian scrutinised the map and the relative placement of the pendulum. "It's not dragging yet," he said, "but the north side of the channel is near the centre of the map. Maybe try hanging your arms down over your head as part of it?"
"Great idea! If I pass out, it becomes unconscious divination. Best kind!" Gideon slowly lowered his arms while reeling in the stone. "Heels over head, I'm falling heels over head..." Gideon sung softly to himself as he made himself an extension of the cord. The stone was imprinted on the site they wanted. It was just a matter of getting it close enough that the divination could take over. "How about now?" Gideon sang.
Fabian watched Gideon not really move. It took him a moment to realise what was missing from the divination. "Hang on," he told his twin and flicked his wand in Gideon's direction, setting Gideon swinging gently as if he were a proper pendulum. "Feel anything now?"
"Grateful you didn't set me to spinning as well, and that's not a suggestion--There's a pull, OK, carefully now--" Gideon removed his left foot from the roof, hanging now by just the one sticky boot. He crossed the now-unstuck leg sideways across his thigh and let himself solemnly swing in the air. "Two points of contact meant I couldn't swing freely. This already feels more like it's not fighting me, but rather moving me. Where's the damn stone?"
It took Fabian a moment to recognise the pose: the Hanged Man. "Pointing at a little village called--" he paused to get the name "--Llantwit Major."
Gideon dropped the stone onto the map. "So we're done? Or at least I can get down now?" He did the worst situp ever from a hanging position and grabbed the roofbeam, getting rightside up and dropping to a clear spot on the floor. "And off to Twitland Major we go..."
"We'll need a local map to see how it goes first," Fabian replied absently. His eyes were on the spot where the weight had landed, right in the centre of Llantwit Major.
Gideon nodded: the Ordnance Map was impractical. "Bishop's Palace (remains of), Monastery (site of), Castle (in ruins). Sounds like just the place."
Fabian moved in to scoop up the elf-shot. "I wonder why the Gorsedd hasn't been all over this town looking for it."
Gideon smiled. "Whatever the reason, we're likely to stumble into it."