#21 Switchback

Rather unfortunately, nothing happened yet again.

Nothing happened.

Each book she placed began to glow, until all four were in place. All text faded from each cover, and the spines changed colours in the order she'd placed them: red, yellow, blue, and green.

There was a mechanical click, then the bookcase itself slid downwards into the floor -- becoming the first step at the top of a staircase descending deep into the dark. There were no torches to guide her as there simply wasn't room for them. It was narrow, a bit dusty, and not the least bit inviting.

Yet somehow, Saoirse knew it was exactly where she needed to go next. It defied physics, as if it existed in its own space and time considering it went deep yet logically should have gone through to the lower level of the library. It was magic, at its trickiest and most mind-bending form. The question was: what awaited her at the bottom? There was only one way to find out...

And it was a long way down.

As easily felt from her hands, the cobwebs remaining were tattered and dusty from age. She couldn't see much, as the further she went the blacker it got. there was a sense of ancientness about it though, as if she was among the first one to venture this way in centuries. Was she? Or was it simply that untouched -- sacred to a chosen few?

The staircase descended further into the dark. Until, finally, she reached the bottom. And it was a rather alarming area to be in. At first glance, it was almost as if she'd time travelled to an era where the Founder's never finished Hogwarts and thus it was left to ruin -- as it appeared that she'd reached some abandoned, unmoving portion of the Grand Staircase.

No portraits or anything really, just various ledges with only small sections of stairs remaining. Everything else was dark, though some surrounding area was dim enough to make out the walls and shapes, though she couldn't see where the light was coming from.

The staircase she'd descended was the only one intact. And at the end of it was a damaged but study ledge, which contained a large pot of garden soil. It was the only part that seemed fresh and current. Unfortunately, that was as far as clues went for what Saoirse was expected to do next.

Another puzzle, indeed.

The moment her hand touched the soil, there was a terrible feeling of falling -- down, down, down into total freefall darkness. 

She never landed. Instead, Saoirse startled awake.

'Easy there, you're alright,' Madam Pomfrey said, hand on Saoirse's wrist to check her pulse. 

Saoirse was in the Hospital Wing. It seemed to be the same time as when she'd gone to the library, yet she had no idea how she got here or what happened. She was sure the whole thing had been real. Yet touching the soil appeared to have been the wrong move.

The bed was comfortable. She was under the covers, dressed in her school attire minus robes and shoes or anything too bulky. If she'd brought a bag, that was nearby on the floor. She felt fine; not sick or injured or otherwise.

'You were found unconscious on the Grand Staircase,' Madam Pomfrey said, before Saoirse had the chance to ask. She released her wrist, nodding in satisfaction with her recovering. 'My spells indicate it was stress. You seem to be doing much better now, physically. How are you feeling?'

'If you insist.' Madam Pomfrey held up her hands in surrender, though rolled her eyes. Students really were wildcards when it came to their well-being at times. 'I see no reason to keep you, now you've rested up. Do try to take it easy, and come back if you feel overwhelmed.'

She wanted to say more, but it was clear that Saoirse would probably be out the door the moment she was officially dismissed. Madam Pomfrey huffed at her wasted effort, shaking her head as she headed back to her office.

It landed on the soil.

At first, nothing happened.

Then it began to... deform? As if the moisture was being drained from it, but instead of shriveling up it just sort of magically shrunk in on itself until there was nothing left. Despite absorbing some of the juice, the soil then returned to its previous state.

Whatever it sought, an apple wasn't the answer.