Stepping through the massive stone doorway, Allen found himself in a rectangular, open stone chamber, easily ten square meters in size. The floor was made of green clay, instantly marking the room with a distinctive, non-British, likely Indian style.
At the entrance stood a tall, obelisk-like structure, wider at the base and tapering toward a pyramidal top. The room had once been lavishly decorated; the stone walls were covered in faded, colorful reliefs. The vague outlines of a four-armed male figure and the wheels of his three-wheeled chariot were still faintly discernible.
The embossed swirls and intricate copper inlay techniques featured in the mural had flaked off over time, indicating the room had been meticulously ornamented but was now neglected.
Gazing at the vaguely four-armed figure, Allen immediately recalled the Moon God Chandra described in Albert's book. However, the mural's style felt jarring and incongruous. It was likely painted by a native British worshipper, resulting in a clumsy mix of disparate cultural aesthetics.
This stone chamber featured three massive stone doors: one on the left wall, one on the right, and a third directly opposite the entrance. These doors clearly extended deeper into the mountain's interior.
The continuous hiss of the heavy rain and the howl of the wind outside were occasionally drowned out by the deafening crackle of thunder. The room, thankfully, seemed structurally sound. Even as the storm raged with ground-shaking force, only a small amount of dust leaked from the ceiling cracks.
However, the door on the far left of the chamber was emitting a series of continuous, ominous banging noises, suggesting extreme fragility. It seemed to tremble slightly with every clap of thunder and every powerful gust of wind.
Suddenly, coinciding with a particularly violent clap of thunder, the door burst open. There was a piercing crack as it ripped free from its stone frame. Through the resulting swirl of dust, Allen spotted a huge mass of mice behind the door. They seemed terrified by the sudden breakage and scrambled backward.
After a moment of shocked silence, the mass of rodents bolted out the door. Allen initially assumed they were panicked by the thunder, fleeing in a chaotic, screaming frenzy that echoed through the room. But Allen quickly realized these were no ordinary vermin. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their chisel-like teeth were coated in a reddish-brown, sticky fluid.
They were biting wildly at anything they touched, including each other, and were ejecting black, runny, sticky feces from their anuses. Unlike the granular droppings of normal rats, this liquid, almost paste-like excrement splattered the ground and coated other mice. As they ran, they left trails of black residue, yellow urine, and reddish-black blood.
Allen felt a wave of nausea and his throat tightened. He revised his assessment: these mice were not fleeing thunder; they were likely suffering from some contagious disease, leading to this massive, uncontrolled frenzy.
Allen gripped his wand tightly, still under the influence of the Disillusionment Charm. He slowed his breathing and remained motionless for a long moment, ensuring no one emerged to investigate the considerable noise the mice had made. He then cautiously moved toward the rushing group of rodents.
As Allen shifted, the rats, intensely sensitive to sound, abruptly stopped, twitched their noses, and bared their teeth. The Vanishing Charm concealed his sight, but it did nothing to mask sound or scent, and the rats had detected him.
Allen quickly scanned the chamber, relieved that the stone room contained no tapestries or flammable materials.
"Glacius Maxima!" (A spell sometimes adapted for immobilizing targets.) Allen dramatically waved his wand to cast the Freezing Charm. An invisible wave of purple light shot down onto the large, gray-black rodents, their teeth bared. Every single one froze instantly in mid-movement, only their small, bulging eyes still blinking rapidly.
"Incendio Trio!" A cone of scorching, triple-intensity flames erupted from Allen's wand tip. With a swift movement of his wand, the fire engulfed the immobilized rats, their claws outstretched in frozen terror. The flames spread rapidly through their fur, filling the chamber with the sickening smell of burning flesh. The air was filled with the crackling and sizzling sounds of skin splitting and fat rendering.
Allen had only used the Freezing Charm to prevent the burning rats from scattering. Seeing the piles of ash left on the green clay floor after the fire subsided, Allen frowned; he had no intention of stepping on rat residue. "Ventus Purgatio!" The ashes were swept away and sucked up along with the existing dust on the floor.
Once the floor was clean, Allen approached the broken door directly opposite the entrance. It led into a long, deep corridor. Slowly and cautiously, Allen followed the passage to its end, where another stone door stood. Using the tip of his wand, he felt along the door's surface, listening as he had done before. Allen held his breath. Unlike last time, he heard voices speaking.
Allen heard a man with a thick Indian accent and stilted English arrogantly declare: "You lost the wager. Feeding bhut jolokia peppers directly to the mice achieved nothing. You should have pulverized them into a hot curry paste, like I did, for the proper effect."
Immediately afterward, a man with a stiff British accent responded: "The effect was magnificent, you must admit. When they calm down, you can clean up these frantic vermin yourself."
"That will not do! I won the bet, so you must proceed. You must honour your word and herd those deranged mice toward the spider habitat," the Indian-accented man refused coolly. "Are you English gentlemen going to break their promise?"
"Fine, I'll go… I should never have agreed to this absurd wager with you," the British-accented man grumbled reluctantly. This was followed by a muffled sound, as if he had kicked something. There was a shuffling of footsteps from behind the door, which then stopped, as if the man were dragging his feet.
"Howard, do not be such a weakling. Do not be afraid. The spiders do not have such a vast appetite. There are so many mice, they will be too busy feeding. Besides, they might not even have finished consuming the intruders we threw in there days ago. They will not attack you," the Indian-accented wizard said dismissively, sensing his companion's fear.
"And they are only spiders. You have a wand; what is there to fear? I promised your mother I would look out for you. They are not peanuts; they will not cause an allergic reaction and kill you…"
"Rajesh, you are not the one who was bitten by a spider when you were a boy!" retorted the British-accented man named Howard. "You are a man who only speaks to women when she is intoxicated, and you dare to lecture me… I should have known better than to associate with you…"
The footsteps approached the stone door. Allen took a few steps back and flattened himself against the wall. The stone door opened, revealing a room filled with broken, rotting tables and rusty iron tools.
The short, British-accented wizard, dressed entirely in black with thick hair and a large nose, wore a small, round skullcap. Judging by his attire, he appeared to be of Jewish descent. He grunted and stepped out, closing the stone door firmly behind him.
Just as the door swung shut, Allen glimpsed the interior: a tall, thin wizard in Native American garb was treating the skin of a reptile stretched across a wooden frame.
After evaluating the situation, Allen decided that a direct confrontation in the closed space was unnecessary. He quietly began to follow the Jewish wizard.
The Jewish shaman seemed surprised to find the corridor completely empty, not a single mouse in sight. However, he didn't appear overly concerned, muttering to himself that the chili peppers must have been extremely potent, and perhaps his mother should try them.
The Jewish shaman quickened his pace, moving impatiently toward the main chamber where Allen had earlier incinerated the mice.
When he reached the broken doorway, he confirmed that not a single mouse remained, and the floor was cleaner than he remembered. He instantly realized something was profoundly wrong.
Just as he was about to turn back and call for help, a childish male voice suddenly shouted, "Bat-Bogey Hex!" A freezing sensation spread throughout his body. He could distinctly feel many furry things erupting from his nostrils, starting from deep within his nasal cavity, forcing their way out.
At that exact moment, the Jewish wizard felt a powerful yank on his right hand, which held his wand. He clutched it fiercely, bewildered and enraged, yet it nearly slipped from his grasp. He tried to scream in terror, but the bats streaming from his nose silenced him.
Then, the small, soft hand holding his unleashed a sudden burst of power, and his little finger snapped sharply. The pain was excruciating. The wizard's grip loosened involuntarily, and the wand tumbled from his hand.
The Jewish wizard never heard the wand hit the ground; Allen had already caught it mid-fall.
The shaman's eyes widened in horror as the black bats, formed from his own bodily fluids, climbed further and further up his face. Soon, his entire face was covered by the flapping, chittering creatures. He waved his arms wildly to ward them off, but the number of bats only increased, and he began to struggle for breath.
The spell Allen used was the Bat-Bogey Hex. It originated from The Book of Spells, authored by Miranda Goshawk (born 1921). When Miranda was young, her large family meant she, as the youngest of nine sisters, often struggled to be heard. She invented this hex to temporarily silence her older sisters, giving her a chance to speak.
Because of this, The Book of Spells faced considerable controversy for including such a potentially aggressive hex in a standard textbook. Miranda argued that including moderately aggressive spells could prevent students from resorting to far more dangerous magic to settle disputes.
Given that this location was apparently designed to trap intruders and feed them to spiders, Allen felt a ruthless efficiency was necessary. In fact, if his own brother weren't involved, Ravenclaw logic would have dictated abandoning the mission and finding an adult Auror immediately. Of course, Gryffindors would likely have seen this as the Eagle House students fleeing in fear.
Taking a deep, centering breath, Allen held his acquired wand and, with a complex gesture, drew an almost hourglass shape in the air above the Jewish wizard, before thrusting the wand tip sharply toward the man's chest.
The wizard arched his back with a silent scream of pain. His hands balled into fists, veins bulging, clawing at his chest. Then, his body convulsed violently and collapsed to the floor. His bones were twisting and deforming, his limbs and torso contorting into grotesque positions.
The malformed bone spurs pierced his sensitive nerves and internal organs, sending unimaginable pain shooting to his brain. He felt as if a thousand tiny blades were simultaneously slicing through his body. He desperately wanted to scream or moan, but the Bat-Bogey Hex held the pain trapped within, allowing only muffled, guttural growls.
Seeing the sheer effectiveness of the spell, Allen tilted his head slightly, frowning with a mix of surprise and unease. Eager for information about his brother Albert, he had hastily cast this rather brutal Transfiguration Torture Spell, intending only to immobilize him before questioning. The extreme pain it inflicted was unexpected for a first-time user.
This curse differed from the Cruciatus Curse in several key ways. The Cruciatus Curse caused agonizing pain without physical injury; the pain intensified and, if repeated, could lead to madness or death. The Transfiguration Torture Curse, a form of Dark Transfiguration, tortured the victim by physically transforming them, though it was not immediately fatal.
The Transfiguration Curse was slower and more complex to cast than the Unforgivable Curses, making it unsuitable for rapid combat. However, it was a more efficient tool for torture than the Cruciatus Curse.
Although intensely painful, the pain was purely physiological, caused by the transformation effect, and easily healed by a competent Healer. It was rarely fatal; with Healing Charms and a Skele-Gro Potion, the victim could be vibrant again the next day. The Cruciatus Curse, conversely, caused irreversible nerve damage and madness.
"What exactly were you trying to achieve in this place?" Allen temporarily lifted the Transfiguration Torture Spell, though the pain remained. He had no intention of playing hide-and-seek. He nudged the Jewish shaman on the ground with his foot and asked directly: "I will remove the bats from your face now, but if you dare make any noise, I may kill you immediately."
The Jewish shaman nodded rapidly. Though his injuries hadn't technically worsened, he was still in excruciating agony. His body trembled slightly, and his voice, though clear, was laced with pain: "This is a temple used by local… cultists… to worship the Hindu Moon God… Please, sir, I haven't done anything… Uh? How…"
The Jewish shaman had finally registered the attacker's appearance and age. Had it not been for the intense pain and the strange, high-pitched voice he had just heard, he wouldn't have recognized the eleven-year-old light-haired boy as the source of his misery, even after experiencing the attacks firsthand.
Allen noticed the man's horrified gaze but maintained his indifferent expression. "Is this how you feed people to spiders? Why? Where is the person you said was fed to the spiders? What did he look like?"
"It wasn't me… it wasn't me! It was them… they were afraid the Ministry of Magic would find out… so those fanatics caught him and fed him to the spiders…" Cold sweat erupted on the wizard's forehead as he looked at Allen's unwavering expression. "He was an Auror, a little older than you… and very much like you, with light blond hair…"
"Did you take his wand?" Allen pointed his wand, trying to make his still-unchanged voice sound colder and more menacing.
"It's broken!" the wizard cried, seeing Allen's frown. "I didn't break the wand; my friend did."
Allen had planned to immediately snap the Jew's wand, but considering the possibility that Albert might have also lost his own, he seized the wand instead. If Albert's was confirmed destroyed, he could give this one to his brother for self-defense and practice.
"How many of you remain here? How large are the spiders and how many?" Time was critical, so Allen kept his questions focused.
The Jewish shaman's body was limp and weak, devoid of all strength. His head slumped to the ground, and his eyes, unable to meet Allen's gaze, stared unconsciously at the floor. He fell silent for a moment.
Allen growled with impatience and, with a swift flick of his wand, the wizard's left leg bone split in two, twisting violently and piercing his thigh. He let out a suppressed, agonizing shriek. The Jewish wizard, his face contorted in sheer horror, could bear no more. Blood streamed down his leg, instantly staining the ground crimson. He pleaded weakly, "Stop! I will speak, I will speak!"
"Don't try me again. The next thing coming out of your nose won't be a bat, it will be your own cervical vertebrae," Allen threatened, lowering his wand slightly. (In truth, he knew he couldn't perform such precise manipulation with the spell yet.)
"Don't touch me! I'll tell you everything!" the Jewish shaman stammered, his voice trembling. "There are seven of us. We are here to break the curse on the Moonstone using the altar's magic circle and the power of the moon. I didn't dare look closely at the spiders, but there are very few of them. They are pets brought by the Native American shaman. They are a distant relative of the giant Acromantula, but they are neither as big nor as strong!"
Fear and pain caused the Jewish wizard's body to shake uncontrollably again. His face was deathly pale, and his black robes were soaked with blood. He feared Allen would resume the torture. Since he clearly realized Allen was only interested in the Auror, he blurted out everything he knew:
"The Auror is locked in the spider's room. Go through that tunnel, ignore the middle door, take the one on the far right, and you will find him. He should be safe for now. The Native American wizard next to me was playing instruments to attract mice to deal with the infestation, guiding them directly into the spider's clutches. The spider doesn't eat often; it eats very slowly…"
Allen stared into the man's pain-crazed, bloodshot eyes. His wand-waving paused slightly. He lifted his head, took a deep breath, and his gaze seemed drawn to the colorful, fading painting on the wall, avoiding the wizard's direct gaze. But the wand didn't stop moving: "Corpus Petrificus!"
The Jewish wizard's eyes widened as Allen chanted the powerful spell. The deep roar grew increasingly terrifying, followed by a series of pitiful, short, muffled gasps. His shattered body was violently bound, his hands and feet fixed rigidly to his torso by the spell, as if his body was no longer his own. Almost instantly, his skin cracked and swelled over his deformed bones, and blood began to seep from beneath his black robes, outlining the grotesque shapes the transformation spell had inflicted.
"Don't blame me. Your actions are more heinous than some Dark Wizards. You willingly feed living people to spiders…" Allen said coldly, using the sentence to justify the brutality he had just displayed. "Howard? Is that his name? If the person I find is still alive, and you are fortunate, I will cast a Healing Charm and an Obliviate Charm on you, and you might get to see your mother again."