The Necromancer Amulet

The Necromancer Amulet

Prologue

Durmstrang Insitute, 1986

Sometimes, we make decisions that eventually turn our lives upside down. Unfortunately, we never find out which decision it is, among the many, that turns out to be crucial, until afterwards, when it is too late. It is one of the great ironies of life, but at least it makes living interesting.

Secessa Laburova was about to make one of these decisions, unknowing how it would affect her. Perhaps it was for the best.

It was one of many dull, winter days in northern Russia. Winter was always boring, simply because it was so long, and this winter proved to be no exception. The day was cold, and the draft seeping in through the large, gothic windows in the stonewalled Durmstrang staff room was even more annoying than usual. Secessa shifted uncomfortably in her hard chair, and glanced with annoyance at the flames flickering feebly in the old, ornate fireplace of chipped marble. During the early days of her employment here, she had tried to counteract the chill with a heating charm, but to no avail. It simply did not work; she suspected the whole place was charmed to hold some twisted old founder's idea of a nice working temperature. Now, she just endured it, since her own office was even colder.

The Charms teacher, Elena, had sat down next to her only a moment ago; the uneven scratching of her quill clashed against Secessa's own flowing strokes. They worked for a while in silence, Elena's writing becoming increasingly jerky. Finally, she put down her quill with a sigh.

"Ursus came to my office yesterday and asked me why three of the sixth-years taking Advanced Charms have transferred to Beauxbatons," she said, her voice a bit strained.

Secessa looked at her close friend over her scrolls, and then quickly glanced around the gloomily lit room. No other teachers were present.

"And what did you say?" she asked calmly.

"I said I had no idea." Elena's blue eyes filled with worry. "I swear to you Secessa, he was reading my mind. He knew I was lying!"

Secessa considered her friend for a moment. Part of her wanted to tell Elena to run away, to escape the hell of Durmstrang, and never come back; otherwise, the Charms teacher might crack under the pressure of their dangerous game. One year of keeping up appearances towards Karkaroff would have been fine, but they were now approaching their sixth.

To undermine the Headmaster's iron reign had been easy, at first. Elena, mild-mannered and sociable, had approached select students and won their trust. They then learned about the dangers of the Dark Arts under the watchful eye of Vladimir, the librarian, and Secessa had used her influence as the Dark Arts teacher to cover everything. Whenever Karkaroff's suspicions arose, she had smoothed things over, and the three of them had stayed in the clear.

But now, the Transfigurations teacher Ursus, a very sly and suspecting man, was starting to figure things out, causing trouble. And, Elena's constantly guilty-looking face didn't exactly help.

"If he was a Legilimens," said Secessa, "I would have known. You should be less nervous around him."

"So you keep telling me, "Elena replied despondently, tidying away her scrolls with fumbling hands, "but I don't seem to be able to."

Secessa leaned over, taking her friends hand in her own, calming her. "You will be fine. Trust me."

Elena looked back at her, with an expression that shifted from nervous to forcefully composed, like it had so many times before. "Yes, I have managed so far, haven't I," she said with a little smile, but Secessa could see the effort behind her words. The dark-haired Charms teacher got up. "I will be in my office," she murmured, and walked to the door.

Secessa nodded and watched her leave. The sacrifice of her closest friend's piece of mind - and possibly more if they were discovered - was worth it; for the sake of saving a few students from corruption, she would risk much. But, that did not mean that the process was pleasant.

This would be a good time to retreat, perhaps. However, could she really allow a brute like Ursus to outmaneuver her? After thinking for a minute or two, a cool smile slowly rose on Secessa's lips. An accusation of lewd conduct might do the trick; in fact, she knew just the girl to speak to. It was time to raise the stakes.

After a moment, Secessa sighed. If anything happens to Elena because of this, she suddenly thought with resolve, I will kill you, Ursus! I swear I will!

.........

Durmstrang Institute, August 20, 1996

When she heard the first blast, she knew the time had come. Secessa rose quietly from her sturdy mahogany office desk, collected her books and put them neatly back on the bookshelf.

Muffled screams echoed through the corridor as she pulled her fur-lined Durmstrang travel cloak on over her teacher's robes. Turning towards the wall, she tapped one of the stones with her wand; this caused the bookshelf to slide to the right, revealing a small, stuffy dark room. Stepping inside, she took a last look at her office. It was neat and tidy, and the failing rays of the setting sun shone through the large window, shrouding the room in a pale, dusty light. Her red leather study chair, the only comfortable piece of furniture in the clinically decorated room, no longer held the proof of her presence. Nothing gave evidence of a rushed escape.

Good, she thought grimly and tapped at a stone in the wall of the small room with her wand. The bookcase slid shut, and a gleam of perspiration formed on her brow as she amassed all her power in one slow, fluid movement of hand and wand, performing a cloaking spell. It had to be unbreakable; her life depended on it.

She could vaguely hear a crash from the room above hers, followed by a muffled wail. That would be Karkaroff dying. They would be coming for her soon, as well.

The tiny room was barely ten feet wide and not much deeper. "Lumos," she whispered, causing her wand to give off a pale glow. Old books stood on shelves covered in cobwebs, and odd-looking jars containing dubious potion ingredients lined the walls. She looked at a few of the books with regret in her eyes, knowing she had to leave them behind. There was no way she could carry them; they were too heavy. I should have burnt them really, but now it is too late.

After searching for a moment, she found what she was looking for: a small crack in the wooden floor. Muttering a spell Secessa aimed her wand at the crack; it expanded until she could see a small pocket below. Without hesitation, she slid down between the floorboards and into the darkness, landing softly on the damp soil. Exploring the cramped space with her hand, she found the familiar beginnings of a tunnel, too small for a person to use it as an escape route. Sealing the floor with a flip of her wand, she watched as the wood above her head stretched back into shape and healed over.

Secessa stopped to listen; there were people in her office now, rummaging through her things. Momentarily wondering if she had forgotten anything, or left anything obviously out of place, causing them to look for her here, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing her powers on her body this time. Immediately her bones began to reform, followed by her flesh, the pain causing her to flinch, and for a brief moment her shape was lost in a whirl of colour and motion. Then she looked down at her white paws, her aching limbs trembling slightly.

The white fox smiled, baring its small, sharp teeth. In this form, she could trot down the tunnel quickly. There was no way they would be able to trace her. She was out of danger - for now.