Julian stopped pushing his senses and braced a hand against the wall as a wave of vertigo crashed over him. The corridor tilted around him for a few seconds, his vision swimming. When the spinning finally eased, he carefully peeled his fingers off the stone and reached up to his lip, feeling where something warm was trickling down. His fingers came away with a smear of red.
"Nen," he said quietly in Elvish, the word for water, as he flicked his wand forward.
A small orb of crystal clear water formed in the air in front of him. With a gentle motion of his wand, Julian guided the floating sphere to his face and used it to rinse away the blood as best he could without a mirror to help.
Once he was satisfied that he no longer looked like he had walked out of a duel, he directed the water toward a nearby window and sent it drifting outside, dispersing it into the open air.
He drew a slow breath, steadied himself, and moved on, continuing his exploration of the castle.
...
Soon he located the Transfiguration classroom, and to his mild surprise, found Professor McGonagall already inside, seated at her desk with a cup of tea in hand.
"Is there something I can help you with, Mr Iron?" she asked when she noticed him standing just outside the doorway.
"Not at the moment, Professor," Julian replied politely. "I was only exploring the castle to get my bearings, and seeing you in here gave me pause, that is all."
McGonagall tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "And how has your progress gone so far?" she asked.
"Splendidly, Professor," Julian answered, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. "I have already covered the second through seventh floors. All that remains is this level and the dungeons before I am familiar with most of the castle."
One of her eyebrows arched upward. "That is an impressive pace, I admit," she said. "I shall expect you to have no trouble arriving on time for lessons tomorrow, then?" Her tone was serious, but not unkind.
Julian nodded, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Unless something very unusual happens to delay me, I should be among the first Gryffindors to arrive."
The corners of McGonagall's mouth lifted, just slightly. "Very well, young man. I will hold you to that. Off you trot now," she said, giving a small dismissive wave of her hand.
Julian inclined his head and withdrew.
She is not half as stern as the books made her seem. Then again, I am neither in trouble nor in her class right now, he thought as he walked away.
...
As the morning wore on and the castle drifted closer to lunchtime, Julian began to see more and more students in the corridors. It seemed to have finally dawned on many of them that they had no real idea where half their classrooms even were, so they were out in force, wandering and arguing over directions.
While exploring, Julian came across the painting of a fruit bowl that concealed the entrance to the kitchens. He noted its exact position carefully, as it sat quite close to the Hufflepuff common room, which was hidden in one of the barrels by the wine cellar.
Past the cellar door, the stairs led downward into the dungeons, which supposedly stretched underneath the Black Lake. The temperature made that easy to believe. The deeper he went, the more the chill seeped into his bones.
Architecturally, the dungeons were not too different from the rest of Hogwarts: stone walls, arches, and torches. There were, however, a few key differences.
First, the number of snake motifs increased sharply. Serpent carvings coiled along pillars, twisted around doorframes, and slithered across the edges of tapestries.
Second, there was an overabundance of disused prison cells. It was a dungeon in the most literal sense, complete with barred doors and empty, echoing rooms that looked like they had not housed anyone in decades.
Finally, he located the Potions classroom and, nearby, the ingredient storage room, both smelling faintly of herbs, smoke, and something acidic.
Julian saw plenty of Slytherin students in this part of the castle, and they noticed him as well. It was impossible for a Gryffindor wandering around their territory to go unseen.
"You there, mudblood!"
The sneering voice hit his ears like nails on glass. Every muscle in Julian's body tensed as he recognized it. It took real effort not to spin on his heel and hex the speaker on instinct.
He turned around slowly instead, irritation clear on his face. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
The blond boy froze for a fraction of a second when he found himself staring directly into Julian's golden eyes. Something in that gaze clearly threw him off before he hurried to recover his composure.
"I happened to notice you polluting the air down here," Draco said loudly, forcing his sneer back into place. "So I thought I would do something about it."
"By all means, continue," Julian replied, his tone deceptively mild. "I am sure Professor Snape would love to hear more, Malfoy."
He shifted his gaze past Draco, looking toward the nearby corner.
Malfoy followed his line of sight and stiffened when he saw what Julian already had: Professor Snape, standing there with his habitual expression, something between a scowl and bored contempt.
Seeing that his audience had changed, Draco ground his teeth together and swallowed whatever insult he had been about to fling. Without another word, he spun around and stalked off, his robe flaring behind him.
Snape, noting that nothing had actually happened, looked faintly disappointed, as though he had been hoping for a reason to deduct points. He swept his cold gaze over Julian for a brief moment, then dismissed him entirely and stalked into the Potions classroom, brooding in his wake.
That man has issues, Julian thought.
Ah well. I am finished down here anyway. Might as well spend the rest of the day in the library.
He left the dungeons, climbed back up to the first floor, and made his way toward the eastern side of the castle.
The library, when he stepped inside, was downright intimidating.
Not only was the librarian, Madam Irma Pince, a severe looking woman who seemed to loathe anyone who so much as brushed their fingers over her precious books, but the place itself felt endless. Row after row of towering shelves stretched away into the distance, vanishing into shadow.
No matter how he craned his neck or shifted his angle, Julian could not see the far end. The library of Hogwarts looked less like a room and more like a labyrinth of knowledge, with the stern guardian at its heart watching hawk eyed for anyone foolish enough to mistreat a single page.