[Lhunardawen]

"Where are we going?" Maika finally spoke after she and Hyarmenwë have been walking silently for quite some time.

"I was of the idea, lady," responded Hyarmenwë, "that you will decide on our destination."

Maika stopped and turned abruptly to her right, looking up at the towering Gondorian. "Wait a minute - you're the one who called me out of the room."

"You know this place far better than I do, or ever will."

"Oh, yeah..." Maika slowly turned away, feeling shamed by Hyarmenwë's diplomatic tone against her own slightly aggressive one. Control your nerves, silly. "Alright, then."

She stepped on ahead, Hyarmenwë quickly catching up with her, and they resumed walking in silence. Out of the corner of her eye Maika saw him throwing uneasy glances at her now and again. She smiled inwardly, but pretended not to take notice.

"Where are you leading me?" he asked after a while, in a surprisingly quiet voice that belied the apprehension Maika thought he must be feeling.

"You said you wanted a private word," she replied, jerking her head to look at him without breaking her stride. "There's only one place for such a conversation."

She stopped beside a door; a sign hanging on it said BROOM SHED. Hyarmenwë looked doubtfully at the sign, and then at Maika, who pushed the door open.

"--phecy made about you and Lord Vol--"

"Professor!" a boy's voice gasped.

The two ambassadors stared wide-eyed at the broom shed's occupants. One, who had apparently been speaking as Maika opened the door, was an old man; a spider was crawling down his tall, pointed black hat to his surprised face. The boy had instinctively pulled out a wand from his pocket and was now pointing it at Maika. His eyes, she could see, flashed dangerously, but hers were drawn upwards to a curious scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, on his forehead.

"Pardon us," said Hyarmenwë with an apologetic bow, slowly shut the door, and pulled Maika away gently by the elbow. At this she stirred, as though from a waking dream, and shook her head vigorously, as though to dislodge the dream from her memory.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her lips barely moving. "Come on," she added a bit more loudly, and led Hyarmenwë down the hallway. They walked on with Maika muttering "Can't believe someone beat me to it..."

"Lady Maika," Hyarmenwë began tentatively, "do those - people - in the broom shed, do they, by any chance, bear any relation to Dracomir Malfoidacil?"

"They're anakronisms," Maika waved her hand dismissively. "Better not dwell on them."

She slightly upped her pace and felt Hyarmenwë beside her do likewise. At her lead they finally halted beside another door: a wardrobe, right in the hallway. Maika stretched her arm towards the handle--

"You won't get into Nurnia again by that route."

They turned around to see another old man - no pointed black hat this time - standing across them.

"Bless me," he added as he left them dumbfounded, "what do they teach them at these schools?" The old man rounded a corner, and he was gone. Maika turned back to the wardrobe and reached for the handle again, opened the door, and put her right foot in.

"Are you certain--"

"Hyarmenwë, you heard him," she gestured at the old man's wake. "It's safe. Now hurry up and get in. And whatever you do, don't shut the door behind you - that would be stupid."

"But--"

"Oh, come on! What's anakronistic about stepping into a wardrobe?"

Maika put her left foot in (and shook nothing about, nor did the hokey-pokey) before Hyarmenwë, who followed hesitantly behind, could stop her. They slowly made their way deeper into the wardrobe, guided by the sliver of light from the crack at the door.