Footsteps rumbled through the tunnels. Not his for once. His own boots were no match for the stampede of troll feet ahead of him. It was supposed to be a routine response drill. Service tunnels like these were the only routes big enough for the trolls to pass through in orderly fashion. These paths were nothing like the halls above or the vaults below. They were simple hollowed out tunnels of grime and dirt. Wobbly cobblestones had not been serviced in decades and offered little sturdy footing underneath them. With the kind of torture these floors withstood under troll weight, Hugh could quickly figure out the maths behind the decision to just not… bother.

In front of him ran Grub. An older troll, with a large bump for a back. His knees had started to sag inwards with old age, which had him lagging behind the others. Hugh was supposed to keep him in line. Make him keep up. But besides attempting to carry the old bag of bones, there was little he could muster in assistance.

"Give 'em a little crack o' the whip, Lowe!" A goblin sputtered in aggravation as he almost had to skip to keep up with his long-legged subordinates. Hugh did not hesitate. Not by casting any spell to chastise the troll. But by speeding up his own pace and catching up with Grub. As soon as his eyes met up with his gaze, the old troll grumbled in acknowledgement. He was already aware of the situation. Grub was already going all out. Beads of sweat rolled off his foreheads and left behind puddles large enough to drown a small mouse in. Hugh noticed Grub's eyes rolling behind his eyelids. He was not going to last til the end of this exercise.

Luckily, they reached the end of the tunnel. Or so Hugh thought. At the point, he and Grub were meant to pass the threshold, a large bronze bell that hung overhead the plaza up ahead, got hit by a stray stunning spell. The pealing echoed through the chamber and caused everyone present to cover their ears, acting burglars and trainee security alike. Grub however lost his mind. With a bellowing scream, the old troll lost all composure and started tumbling forward. His arms were flailing wildly in the air, and Hugh's first instinct were to try to grab him from behind and calm him down. He forgot that in this scenario, he would be the small one, however.

With a single loose cannon for a fist, the part-giant was pummelled into the air. Several guards and goblins' eyes looked up in amazement as the nine-foot trainee flew overhead and rammed into the swinging bell, bringing both of them crashing down on the small courtyard that was to be today's training grounds. As the bell chimed its last note, the sound echoed further into the unconscious half-giant's head.

He was standing in a square, near a memorial. The church's bell had just finished its last chime, and the final echoes still vibrated through the town's streets. It was a familiar memorial, definitely the famous one in Godric’s Hollow. Hugh had seen it many times now whilst visiting Serena's workshop. Cold air almost froze over his thick-grown sideburns, the village sounds muffled as if behind glass. He looked past his shoulder, then back at the memorial. There was a tug in his chest that drew him away from there. Perhaps back to Serena's?

The memory skipped fast-forward, everything was blurred, and the next stop was near a ruined cottage. Perhaps he had once walked past it? There was no noise though, and it seemed to be a bit out of ways from the village. Ministry-marks covered the place, but they had faded in time. The air grew cold and quiet in there. Inside, things still whirled around as if something had just happened here.

The next tug pulled him inside the building. He was looking into a vertical shaft, but saw only darkness, a pure void. He felt his own arm straining, stretching down the shaft, his hand locked firmly around someone’s wrist. Both their hands slick with cold sweat. The hand was not just someone's, it was… Meenauh's…

“Hugh… Please…” She exclaimed.

Her fingers slipped, and then Meenauh was cast into darkness.

"Hugh… Please… " Another voice repeated.
"Get yourself up. You are too damn heavy for me!"

The half-giant's eyes flickered against the blinding light. Someone's wand was testing his pupillary responses. Bromley's old wrinkled face almost pressed against his as the old coot seemed to wrestle with Hugh's arm in some vain attempt to get him up. "I'm, I'm fine Brom." Hugh said, straining himself to sit upwards. Grub lay resting on the floor in front of him. Half a dozen wands that were pointed at him told Hugh enough of what had happened. Magrin had appeared too. After signing some paper slip of another goblin, he made his hobbling way towards Hugh.

"What's going to happen to him now, sir?" Hugh asked with a clear sign of worry.
Magrin's eyebrows furrowed in surprise before responding in his usual rasping voice.

"Grub's old." He said as a matter of fact. "Grub's done." He clarified soon after.
Hugh needed no further explanation than that. He knew Grub would have to be relocated to some Ministry-surveilled troll tribe in the mountains. The paper Magrin signed were his release papers. The goblin passed another slip to Hugh.

"And you're done for the week." He growled.
"I'm not taking no for an answer. The last thing I need is your rich grandpa hanging over me with threats and budget-cuts for not taking care of you. Get some rest, we'll see you on Monday."

Not long after, Hugh heard the locking of the bank doors behind him as he stood under the open sky of Diagon Alley. Despite today's events, it was that one memory he could not shake. There was no explaining it. He just had this sense of urgency towards it. Looking at the paper slip in his hands, he realized there was nothing stopping him from checking out the place. Perhaps if he retraced his steps, he could remember more of it? Had he left Meenauh to her fate? Why would he have forgotten about such an act of failure? The questions piled up in his travels back home. He would have to find transport to Godric's Hollow.