The two stepped through the shimmering veil and entered the circular hall beyond.
The hall was surrounded by metallic walls engraved with complex patterns, converging at a single point high above.
Several pillars, half-embedded in the walls, evenly divided the room into sixteen segments.
Between each pair of pillars was a decorative pattern identical to the doorway they had just passed through.
An unknown source of light illuminated the entire chamber.
At the center stood a stone pedestal, radiating a strange silver glow.
An object hovered gently above it, trembling slightly.
Approaching the pedestal, they saw a shallow stone basin resting on top, its rim adorned with bizarre carvings—letters and symbols neither of them recognized.
The silver glow emanated from within the basin, from something neither had ever seen before.
It was like liquid and vapor at once, constantly shifting and flowing. It reflected metallic luster like mercury, rippled softly like water stirred by a breeze, and drifted gently like clouds spiraling slowly.
It was as though liquefied light—or perhaps solidified wind.
Suspended above the pedestal was a narrow-necked vial. Its surface bore the same strange metallic carvings, and the exposed portion glowed with faint blue luminescence.
"What is this, some kind of fancy basin?"
"This isn't just any basin," said Professor Fig quietly. "This is a Pensieve. It allows one to view another person's memories. Perhaps…"
He extended his hand, and the vial floated gently through the air into his palm. Removing the stopper, he tilted the vial slightly, pouring a shimmering strand of glowing liquid into the Pensieve.
"Do as I do," Professor Fig instructed Ethan, then leaned forward and plunged his head into the basin.
Ethan followed suit, bending forward and placing his head into the Pensieve. As soon as his face touched the strange substance, he felt himself propelled forward, plunging headfirst into the basin.
Yet his head never struck the bottom. He fell through cold, swirling material, as though drawn into a bottomless whirlpool. Suddenly, Ethan found himself standing back in the circular hall, with Professor Fig beside him.
"Professor, where are we?"
"Shh, just watch," Professor Fig whispered, pointing forward.
Ethan turned in the indicated direction and saw two figures, one tall, one shorter, standing with their backs to them, gently waving their wands.
As they did, silvery-white light emerged from the wand tips, causing intricate metallic carvings to ripple like flowing water across the walls. Pillars rose from the ground, reaching the vaulted ceiling above.
The shorter figure lowered his wand, addressing the taller one. "That should make it perfectly secure, Percival."
The man called Percival turned around, revealing a kindly face framed by a long, graying beard.
"Have you hidden the Portkey properly, Charles?" Percival asked.
"Honestly, I worry we've hidden it too well," Charles replied anxiously. "Such arrangements…"
"Impossible to get through? Don't worry. It was always intended for someone like me, someone who can see traces of Ancient Magic."
"Percival, merely possessing your ability to 'see' is far from enough. You must understand, we are entrusting unprecedented secrets to those who will follow this path in the future… knowledge many would do anything to obtain."
"Precisely, Charles. I firmly believe that if anyone manages to overcome these trials, that witch or wizard will have proven themselves capable of bearing this knowledge and its responsibilities."
"We've done all we can," Charles sighed. He waved his wand, drawing a cross shape in the air. The space before him tore open, spreading outward into a silvery-white veil of light.
"Let's go."
Percival placed his wand tip against his silver hair near his temple. When he withdrew it, the tip seemed to carry thin strands—glowing substance identical to what had poured from the vial.
Instantly, both men distorted and dissolved. Ethan felt himself slowly rise into the air, surrounded by cold, dazzling light.
He felt as though he was performing a slow-motion somersault, and suddenly his feet touched solid ground again.
The dazzling light faded; he was back in the circular hall with Professor Fig.
"So, did you see those things clearly? Those silvery lights?" Professor Fig asked Ethan intently.
"Yes, Professor. Exactly those lights," Ethan answered, rubbing his forehead. The sensation of emerging from the Pensieve had left him feeling slightly nauseated, like motion sickness.
"Incredible…" Professor Fig murmured to himself.
"Was that magic I saw just now?" Ethan asked, shaking his head to clear the dizziness.
"To be precise, it was Ancient Magic. You possess the ability to perceive its traces. Miriam always believed this kind of magic existed, though she struggled to prove it," Professor Fig sighed. "But you, Ethan—you might just be the key to helping us understand everything behind this."
"Me? But I've barely been introduced to magic for even a week," Ethan protested, flattered yet overwhelmed.
"There will be plenty of time," Professor Fig assured him, patting Ethan's shoulder. "As I said before, you're exceptionally gifted. Believe in yourself."
"So, Professor, how exactly do we get out of here now?"
"Professor, look!" Ethan pointed toward one of the decorative patterns on the wall. The wall between the patterns began to warp, transforming into a familiar shimmering blue veil.
"Aha, that must be our exit. Let's go." They hurried forward, stepping through the shimmering curtain of light into an overgrown, open-air ruin.
"Whoa, where have we ended up now?" Ethan asked, turning to watch the shimmering veil slowly vanish behind them.
"Still somewhere in Britain, I'd guess, though exactly where, I can't say." Professor Fig glanced at the sky, now tinged with orange. "If we don't hurry, we'll miss the Sorting Ceremony at Hogwarts."
"Wait a moment, Professor—I want to try something."
Taking a deep breath, Ethan recalled the sensation of Charles's final spell.
He drew a cross shape through the air with his wand. Immediately, the space before him tore open along the lines he'd traced, spreading outward into a silvery-white veil.
"Amazing…" Professor Fig marveled, looking at the veil. "Those who set the Pensieve, the box, and the path to them—they must have been waiting for someone with your ability to arrive."
"This should lead us to Diagon Alley, or at least somewhere close," Ethan scratched his head. "I'll go first. Follow me, Professor."
"That boy…" Professor Fig chuckled softly and stepped into the shimmering veil after Ethan.