When Magic is Useless

When Magic is Useless: Chapter 6

Indus

Ginny Weasley had once been a sunny, cheerful girl who brought light into every room she entered, but her first year at Hogwarts, spent under the control of an evil Dark Lord, changed all that. Although she was one of Harry, Ron and Hermione's greatest supporters in the war against Voldemort, and her allegiance to her family, the forces of good against evil, and Hogwarts were strong as steel, her ability to see grey in a way that none of the rest could allowed her to love and live with Draco in the Malfoy Manor. She was Molly's daughter enough to ensure that no harm could come to her children or any members of her extended family who regularly traipsed in and out of her home, and had gotten rid of all the portraits that loudly protested her Weasley presence. Still, she had left the heavy draperies that contributed in making the house so dark one could forget whether it was night or day, and often used the ghouls and ghosts of murdered Malfoys as inspiration for her children's books that were appealing to parents as well because of their dark twists.

There was evil in her house, and Ash could feel it raising the hairs on the back of his neck. But it was musty and faded, as if the evil was too old to be potent, and all that was left were the unhappy memories of foul deeds planned or even executed within these very walls. As a child, he had often heard of Voldemort preparing for his final battle in the Dining Hall of Malfoy Manor, and how Draco has used that information to prove his desire to join Dumbledore's forces, which eventually resulted in his marriage to Ginny. She had refused to live there until the stench of darkness had abated to a large degree, but still there was enough left to make Ash uncomfortable and eager to leave.

But he had been there several weeks, and was no closer to finding what he was looking for than when he had arrived.

It had been surprisingly easy to get permission to search. Not wanting to discuss the Progenitus spell, he had broken with custom and had breakfast with the Weasley family at a small table that had been set aside for Ron's party. When school had first started in the fall, their meals had been interrupted often by hero-worshippers and well-wishers, but now they were largely undisturbed. Even now, with Christmas around the corner, most of the younger children were eating with students, and Ash was able to declare the shortcomings of Hogwarts' library without alarming any youngsters.

Hermione bristled in defense of her childhood haven, but subsided quickly for she knew it was true. "I suppose so, and I would offer my own library for it is quite extensive for a private collection, but it is nothing compared to this one, so I doubt I have anything Hogwarts doesn't stock."

"It's not a criticism of either library," Ash assured, smiling gently. "But all your books, and those of this respected institution, were bought by people of repute. You told me that until now the Crimson Death was little more than a joke, far beneath the notice of an academic, for it has not been used in centuries and is too complex a spell for a slow death to be of any use in raids or war. I think what we need is a library stocked by people who would have used this spell extensively during its heyday, and maintained by people not very interested in reading, cataloguing or sorting through its books." While he was speaking, he transferred his casual attention into a marked stare directed straight at his uncle, so that at the end of his speech, when Draco looked up to acknowledge that he was listening, he found himself the object of attention. The little interaction allowed the rest of Ash's audience to understand what he was implying, and soon Draco found himself the focus of a dozen glares. His lips twisted, and he said mockingly, "I assure you the Smyths did not receive their material from me."

"We know that," Harry replied readily. "The Smyths we caught and interrogated told us their sources, and quite frankly it wasn't much of a bust. Only one book contained the Crimson Death spell, and of course they had to have read that one, and even it warned that the author had no knowledge of a cure. I think Ash was implying that your library might hold the key to helping Ron, not harming him."

Draco's lip pursed as he looked at his brother-in-law. For Ginny's sake, the two of them had tried to get along, and while old resentments prevented them from ever becoming friends, Ron and he had developed a grudging respect for each other. But even Snape regarded the red-haired wizard with sympathy, and not a little sadness, for though the advance of the disease had decelerated he was a great deal weaker than he had been a matter of months ago. It was oddly difficult even for someone as jaded as he claimed he was to discourage hopes. "I looked for something before leaving the Manor for Hogwarts with Ginny, and didn't find anything about Crimson Death. Actually, the library is tiny. Father had to sell a lot of his illegal Dark magical objects when Arthur was raiding homes like ours, and I suppose there wasn't much left afterwards because it took me only as long as we had before we arrived at Hogwarts to skim through them for any reference to Crimson Death."

"With all due respect, sir, I recognize that you are a respected consultant for the Aurors and one of the most important members of Hogwarts' Board and your knowledge of the Dark Arts is extensive; you may not have recognized something which may be helpful to us. Would you mind if I stayed at your home and went through your library?"

Draw looked a little miffed at being told he might have missed something, and looked down his nose at Ash as he replied. "Of course you may go, but I doubt you will find anything. However, I would advise that you take someone with experience in good protection charms with you. My wife would not allow anything dangerous in most of the house, but the library remains largely undisturbed by even my esteemed mother-in-law's best efforts at housecleaning."

"Don't sneer at my mother!"

"He wasn't sneering at Mum, Ron," Ginny began to hotly defend her husband and Laz broke in before this meal could go as so many others had since they had all been forced to spend too much time together. "Well, I have nothing pressing keeping me here. I suppose I can go with you, Mr. Winton, and keep you safe from all those books." If anything, his sneer was even better than Draco's, but it allowed him to hide the fact that he had intended to accompany the younger man as soon as he discovered his plan.

"And I'll join you whenever possible," Hermione added, casting an anxious glance at her husband, who was flushed with anger and still glaring at Draco.

"Then it's decided." Harry smiled, this new possibility making him feel a little hopeful for the first time in days.

*

Whatever hope Ash had felt that this would be easy died as soon as he saw that Draco had not been lying. The Malfoys had obviously not been great readers, or at least not since Draco's father had purged his library over three decades ago. However, there were still quite a few books, mostly biographies of various unpleasant Slytherins. And since a quick search had yielded nothing, they would have to take each book off the shelves and examine it thoroughly.

Ash had reason to be grateful for Salazar's presence. The older man (though it seemed strange to consider a twenty-four year-old man 'older') was surprisingly good company. He had a talent for making the rather gloomy and incredibly creepy house seem ridiculously like the haunted mansions he had seen in the Muggle movies his mother had expressly forbidden him to see when he was a child. Naturally, Art had made sure the three of them watched them as soon as Hermione was out of the house.

But more importantly, Laz didn't allow the darkness to take over his soul as he dealt with the years of memories that were around every corner, skulking in corridors that were never fully lit no matter how many candles or lanterns he hung on the stone walls. Hogwarts hadn't been so painful; but then again, his last semester there had been somewhat difficult as he had spent the previous summer struggling with jealousy of his new brother, and then come back to school sensitive enough to be truly hurt by how popular his best friends were compared to him.

But in this house, they'd all been Weasleys, even Lily and James, and they had always had great times cleaning house with Grandmother Molly, talking back to the rude portraits that Ginny had stored in the attic instead of burned out of loyalty to her husband. Despite his estrangement from his parents, Draco still held a great deal of pride in the Malfoy name. But he did take unholy amusement in watching how young Weasleys, of all families, delighted in Malfoy Manor as a playhouse.

So there were many memories, and it would have been easy to have drowned in them had it not been for Laz insisting on making new ones. Not like the ones Art liked to make- one day in early January, Percy's unlikely son apparated outside Malfoy Manor and threw stones at Ash's window until the latter came out to investigate. Before the quiet, introspective wizard knew what was happening, he found himself in the midst of a snowball fight that verged on war. Art stayed only for breakfast before he returned to work in London. He repeated his visits many times while he traveled between his old school and his uncles' store, but never did the same thing twice. Laz, on the other hand, was as quiet as Ash, and they spent some of their time learning about each other and their interests, becoming friends before they could venture on to something different. But when they weren't working, they were far more likely to be found exploring the Manor and, using Laz' expertise at Charms, discovering new treasures. While Lucius Malfoy had been fond of maintaining his dignity, many of his ancestors had been more approachable as was evidenced by the variety of humiliating and amusing magical objects they found that Art only too gladly appropriated for research.

But all too soon it was February, and they had nothing to show for their time there despite a thorough search through every book they could find. When Ash turned the final page of the last book, he looked up to find Laz lounging on a chair in front of him, eyebrow lifted in an expression that managed to be sympathetic but not pitying.

He wasn't conscious of opening his mouth, or beginning to speak, but he heard a loud "No!" and realized that he had uttered it.

"I don't think we have anywhere else to look." Ash's booted feet swung lightly, and he leaned forward. In his black long-sleeved shirt and sleek black pants, he would have looked dangerous had it not been for the soft, strong lines of his face. "I'm sorry, but we have to take into account that what you thought was a conversation with your late uncle might have only been a dream and the spell never worked."

Again, he seemed to be apart from his own body as he stood up and denied that possibility vehemently. "That can't be true! Why would I see him? Why would this happen? After all that's happened, how can it end this way? After all I've been through, I won't let it! I'll die first; I promise you I'll die"-

And then he was seized roughly about the shoulders and pulled forward against a hard, warm body and he was being kissed. And there was nothing rough about the kiss, which somehow managed to be soft and demanding and everything he had dreamed of for so long. He was definitely back in his body now, and feeling everything. And he knew that for all he'd been through, his sophistication was but the thinnest of veneers, and he really knew nothing about this at all.

"Ash! Ash! You'll never believe- oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were- I should- I'll be in the dining hall. Meet me there when you're- er- done."

It should have been awkward to have your best friend walk in while you're kissing someone he considers an older cousin, but it was surprisingly simple to dig his face into the shorter man's neck and stifle laughter at Art's quick and flustered departure. Laz was smiling sardonically when he finally looked up, and the older man disengaged himself from the embrace slowly. "You should go, and we shouldn't be doing this."

"But we are." Still, Ash let go and straightened his clothes before smiling mischievously, making his resemblance to Art even more obvious. Leaving Laz alone with the realization that he had lost control of the situation somewhere along the way, he quietly walked to the dining room before he lost his nerve.

Art must have felt the same nervousness because he had lit a fire in all the grates in the immense room, so that the habitual darkness was dispelled and it could almost be called cozy. As soon as he saw his cousin enter the room he rushed to exclaim, "I'm not upset or freaked out or anything, you know that! It's just the surprise of it all. I'm happy for you if this is what you want. How can't I be? Being with someone you love- it's the best thing of all, isn't it?"

Art was taken aback by the immediate acceptance, and knowing the Weasley family as he did he felt a need to disclaim any intention of making this relationship out to be permanent before it had even begun. Although, being a Weasley himself, he was oddly quite certain that it would be, on his part at least if not on Laz'. "That's going a little further than either of us is prepared to admit to right now, but thank you all the same. I'm glad you approve- I know you and your family are close to Laz and I would hate to be the person to cause problems in your relationship..."

"Laz!" Art snorted. "Well, that isn't to say he isn't important to me, but it's you that I'm worried about!"

If Art's acceptance had shocked Ash, it was nothing to what he felt now. "Me? I know we're friends, but you've known Laz your entire life!"

It had often been easy to assume that Art's intelligence was limited by his inability to take anything seriously, but he was very like his uncles in that he chose to focus his considerable mental prowess in the field of making what his father often scathingly called 'tricks and parlor games.' But then again, those tricks and parlor games had been the front of one of the most frequented Order meeting places and weapons caches in the second war, and Fred and George had often been the only bright lights when things were at their darkest. In much the same way, Art had chosen to divert his family from the pain of losing their eldest son, but he had not been blind nor had he ignored signs that everyone else had missed. Now, in the one place neither of them would have ever imagined to be the site of their confrontation, he looked his cousin straight in the eye and calmly replied, "Not as well as I've known you."

"How long have you known?"

"I don't know. A while, I guess. On some plane, all along. We just clicked, and I haven't clicked with anyone in that way since, well... you. And then there was this one moment, when Lily was with us, and you did something just like you used to do, and it hit me. But it wasn't a total shock or anything, so I realized that I must have recognized you that first day in Diagon Alley."

It seemed wrong, for some reason, for the conversation to be so calm. Surely life-altering discussions should be held in raised voices, and with more emotion. But they could have been talking about the weather, if one didn't notice Ash's white knuckles as he held the back of the chair closest to him, or Art's eyes shining with tears he wouldn't allow himself to shed yet.

"Does anyone else-?"

"No," Art answered immediately. "I didn't even tell Lily. There were always things we shared that we couldn't share with her, and this seemed to be one of them. She wouldn't be able to keep it to herself. I suppose she would identify too much with your mum or something like that."

"And you don't?" Ash asked drily.

"Not really. I can understand why you're doing this. I supposed I would have been more annoyed and ready to tell if I hadn't known almost immediately. Or maybe it's what my dad calls the twin in me that makes me so ready to keep this secret," he added, laughing.

The moment was broken, and Ash sat down, searching for another subject. While Art was the best friend he would ever have, he couldn't discuss emotional matters with him like he could with Laz, without feeling very uncomfortable and in need of some masculine activity. Striving to sound normal, he asked Art what he had come for. "You were just here yesterday, and I'm planning to return to Hogwarts tomorrow, so what was so urgent?"

"Merlin, I forgot! Ash, I'm engaged!" Art's face split open in a smile so wide it seemed that his face would soon explode with the effort to keep all that joy inside.

Ash's own heart filled as he thought of the union between two of the people he'd loved most since before he could remember. "Lily and you are getting married? Bloody hell!" Rising, he pulled Art to his feet and into a strong, back-slapping hug.

"Who said Lily?" Art laughed, before adding, "Joking, Joking. You know she's the only ever girl for me."

"I know," Art smiled, and drew his cousin into another hug that was gentler, but that of two people who genuinely love each other, not of friends caught up in the need to be men.

That night, Lily flooed in and they broke into Draco's wine cellar for a very expensive vintage to celebrate the news. Laz could be an entertaining companion when he chose, and he was at his best at the small impromptu engagement party. As the four of them laughed and planned, or in Art's case plotted, a wedding that promised to be both spectacular and a complete fiasco, it was quietly obvious to all of them that this would be a permanent arrangement- that the four of them would socialize together regularly. Perhaps it was because he too recognized the feeling that though it was the first of such gatherings, they had set in place a pattern that even he did not have the power to change, that Laz did not argue when Ash followed him into his room and his bed in the early hours of the morning.

The four of them had a hurried breakfast before Laz and Ash packed up to return home. Hermione and Draco came to lock up the house and accompany them back to Hogwarts. Although she knew she would have been informed immediately had there been any news, Hermione could not help asking Ash if he had found anything, and could not hide her disappointment when he shook his head.

As they were walking through the rooms, checking to see if the visitors had left anything behind, Draco caught sight of a particularly dark book lying open in the library. Smiling wryly, he explained that this book held fond memories for him. "Molly found it on one of her marathon cleaning sessions when Ginny was moving in. I suppose she thought there were things here that would hurt my pregnant wife or my unborn child. I had gotten rid of most of the dangerous things but of course there were others. There always are in houses like this. Well, she found this book in one of the secret rooms and it was locked with a particularly nasty curse"-

"What?" Laz asked quickly.

"It was locked"- Draco repeated, looking understandably confused.

"There are secret rooms? Where are they?"

"Of course there are. Almost every wizarding house has one, and in a mansion like this you would have to know that there would be several. I told you about them, remember? You asked if you should look in them but I told you not to bother since they've been emptied. There are four in fact, although they've all been blocked up at Molly's insistence. She said the children would lock themselves in one of them and suffocate or something, and didn't take kindly to my observation that any one of my children that chose to be that stupid deserved to be"-

"Well yes, that makes total sense, but why is that such a total surprise?" Ash wrinkled his nose in confusion.

Hermione's eyes widened as she understood, but it was Laz, for charm-casting was his speciality, who answered. "Because there are spells that make you forget to look for things if it's important that you don't find them. And for them to work, they can't be broken even once or they will have to be cast again. Somewhere, Mr. Malfoy, there's a room you haven't found."

"And for the spell to have worked this well, it would be in a room you've spent a lot of time in."

"The library!" Ash and Laz exclaimed together.

The six wizards and witches ran to the library together, and paused simultaneously at the threshold. Now that they were expecting it, the spell could not work, and they began searching for the hidden chamber. But in wizarding houses such an operation could take months.

It was Lily who first mentioned something that had been bothering her for some time. "I've noticed that from the outside this wall seems longer than it does on the inside. Could that be explained by the rooms you've already found, Uncle Draco?"

"No," the pale wizard answered slowly. "Actually all the chambers I know of are not on this floor, except one which is in the middle of this floor and would not affect the outside structure of this house at all..."

"Well, if the length of the room is longer than it should be, then there must be a chamber opening up to one of the walls that make up the width, so one of these two. And since there is a large door on one side, I'd say it has to be behind those books on that side." For all the gravity of the situation, Hermione was beginning to enjoy the adventure.

"Oh, Merlin." Subtlety not being his strong suit, Art whipped out his wand and charmed the books off their shelves and onto the floor. They all stood for several minutes staring at the empty dark wood shelves before Laz stepped forward and murmured something under his breath.

The shelves seemed to almost shimmer in the light of the candles a house-elf had quietly placed close by. And then they all gasped, for small circles, about the size of the tip of a wand, appeared in a semi-circular pattern about five feet off the floor on the middle shelf.

"It's like Diagon Alley," Art breathed. "Cool!"

"That's a useful spell," Hermione admired. "You must teach it to me some time."

"It's something I've been developing for a while. It's not quite perfect yet, but even when it is it's not an easy charm, even though it might look it. I'd place it at quite the level of the Patronus charm."

"Which isn't easy, but it can be learned," Hermione pointed out, thinking fondly of the otter that had saved her life more times than she cared to count.

"What are we waiting for?" Lily asked impatiently, and walked forward with her wand.

"Wait!" Laz cried out, and there was such immediate ferocity in his voice that Lily obeyed him at once. "You idiot, this isn't Diagon Alley. It's the house of one wizarding family, and as such almost all protection spells will be specifically coded to be opened by a member of that family. I don't want to know what will happen if someone else tries to open that chamber, and I doubt you do either!"

Lily blushed at the mistake she'd been about to make, and stopped Art from defending her. If she was going to be an Auror, it was important she learn the painful lessons that would save her life.

Draco walked past her and lightly touched his wand to the spots. He seemed to instinctively know the pattern in which to tap them, but as Hermione watched him she recognized that he was tracing the Malfoy family symbol, and she shivered at the current of power, dark power, that was building in the air. As the middle column of shelves slid behind the column to its right, she had a feeling that they were unlocking a Pandara's Box. Whatever was behind had been hidden for a reason, and their actions could have dire consequences for the entire wizarding world.

But this was to save Ron's life, so she squared her shoulder, echoed Draco's lumos!- and walked into the secret room.

As they entered, a fire sprang to life and candles lit themselves, but all of them were conscious of nothing but the overwhelming darkness of the objects that had been hidden there. There were skulls and bottles with skulls on their labels, body parts in various states of decay and dead animals pinned to the walls. And there were books, shelves and shelves of books that had 'restricted section' written all over them.

"It's here," Ash announced. And though only Laz was aware of the Progenitus spell, all five of his companions were certain that he was right. Somewhere in that room was just what they were looking for. One of the those books contained the cure for the curse that was killing Ron Weasley.

Chapter Seven not so far away- I promise!