Harry Potter and the Tome of Shadows

                Chapter 7:The Missing Book

    Harry awoke groggily, and when he saw a red mass in front of him, he jumped. It was a tattered red veil, and he could smell the rotting breath of the witch underneath it.

    “Wake up, my sweet,” she croaked, and Harry had to force his stomach to keep its contents. He felt revulsion sliding over every inch of his skin, and he only had the urge to vomit all over her. That breath, it reeked of death. He felt cold slithering over him, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw the dementors hovering nearby, the rattling breath coming quickly, as if eager to have his soul.

    “Ah yes, you have noticed my lovely servants,” Malagar said, still staring deeply at him. Harry wanted her to look away, it was making him ill. “They are beautiful creatures, are they not? Perfect in their methods. They glide quickly, smoothly, almost effortlessly, although they can be far more fearsome when riled. They are the masters of fear, dementors. Unfortunately there are only few of them left.” Malagar paused for a moment, removed her veiled face from Harry’s, and turned, stepping away. “They grow in the deepest, darkest hell holes on the planet, they do. They feed off of despair, live off of depression. Of course, however, that is not how they came into being. But I distract myself, the dementors are not why we are here. You are why we are here.”

    “Where’s Ron?” Harry yelled, fighting off panic and trying to stay unafraid. He could feel the dementors’ power, but only faintly. They were held far enough back, he thought, and he was grateful.

    “You’re red headed, feisty little friend? He’s beside you, tied up as you are.” Harry, his body numb, looked down and saw that he was tied to a large wooden pole. He looked to his side, and saw that Ron was bound, just like him, only he was still unconscious, and there was a large, purple welt on the side of his head. “He woke up before you. He was fresh, had an attitude. So my friend here put him out of his misery.” After seeing the horrified look on his face, Malagar cackled. “Oh, he’s still alive. We need him, you see, for our next stage. Which brings me back to why we are here.” Harry saw Paul LeMenteur, his red eyes flashing in sinister glee, step forward beside Malagar.

    “And why are you helping her, you traitor? I thought you were a lawyer,” Harry snarled.

    “Oh I am,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m in support of Lady Malagar’s cause.”

    “And what cause is that?”

    “The downfall of Lord Voldemort.” Harry’s eyes flew wide open in surprise.

    “Surprised?” Malagar asked, her voice now filled with menace. “You needn’t be. You saw me betray him last spring. I have long held disdain for Voldemort and his ilk. Dastardly fiends they are, and I will not tolerate their existence so long as I have breath in me.”

    “Then why ally with him in the first place?” Harry yelled.

    “I have long allied myself with the house of Slytherin, for my own selfish purposes,” she whispered. “It is not an easy task, co-existing with filth such as them. But I knew, as do a selected chosen few, that Lord Voldemort was the only clever heir that Salazar Slytherin had ever produced, and it would be he, not any other, who would learn of the magical chain of objects that would lead to immortality. And one of them, in fact, would lead me to regain my own considerable power.”

    “And which one is that?”

    “The Tome of Shadows. The very book that contained the spells and knowledge of the witch in whose name this pyramid is built.”

    “Furmat...”

    “Correct. You know some history. Of course not all, for if you did, you needn’t be asking all of these questions. Now, to business.” Harry felt the ropes tying him loosen and fall away. His fingers were surprisingly still clasped around his wand, and for a fleeting instant he thought of attacking Malagar. But when she turned, and Paul LeMenteur raised his wand, he knew it was no good. Rather than attack, he would defend himself if necessary.

    “Good, Mr. Potter. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” LeMenteur said with a cold smile. His face contorted horribly as his lips curved upwards. Harry made a mental note that LeMenteur could read minds, and focused on Malagar.

    “Now. I would like to direct your attention to the two books on the pedestals in the center of the room. There is a white one, the Book of Light, and the black one, the Tome of Shadow. According to my reading, one cannot access the Tome without first reading the proper incantation in the Book of Light. Unfortunately, only one pure of heart can touch the Book of Light, and considering neither I nor Mr. LeMenteur here are pure of heart, that leaves...”

    “Me,” Harry finished.

    “Not quite,” she said, and she started to cackle when a dementor carried the limp body of Hermione.

    “HERMIONE!” Harry yelled, and took a step forward, but LeMenteur’s red eyes flashed dangerously, and he stood still.

    “Yes, your loved one,” Malagar cackled. “We tried using your friend, here, but at the touch of the Book he was jolted away. It seems you have not chosen the purest of friends.”

    “Why not me? Just take me! You said before that only I could touch that book. I heard you!”

    “Your ego is far too great, Mr. Potter. Of course we knew you were watching, and of course you would sacrifice yourself to save your friends. So Paul and I staged a little conversation, knowing you would walk into the room with the boggart, allowing my dementor to corner you while you were distracted. You were a candidate for this operation, I will not lie. But you will not do. Do you not see? You are connected with the Dark Lord, and whether you like it or not, you and he are one. You cannot possibly be able to touch the book, now can you?” Malagar whispered.

    “If you hurt her I will kill you,” Harry said, feeling anger coursing through his veins.

    “Indeed?” Malagar asked, and she started to laugh once more, her screetching voice sending a chill up his spine. “Empty words, my friend.” Harry heard a moan behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Ron waking up.

    “Harry...” he said, but he looked sick.

    “Don’t move, we’ll get out of here,” Harry said. He turned back to Malagar and saw that LeMenteur was force feeding Hermione chocolate to revive her.

    “The dementors found her in the Tomb of Furmat. She nearly died, but she fought off the demons in that room long enough for my lovelies to snatch her up,” Malagar said. “She’s filled with power, that one, much like the one I have grown to detest.” She turned and saw Hermione slowly waking up. The dementors’ breath was growing faster and faster, growing more impatient by the minute.

    “Harry!” she screamed, but Paul LeMenteur held her back. Harry wanted so desperately to help Hermione, but doing anything jeopardized he safety.

    “Now, you foolish girl, take the white book from that pedestal,” Malagar hissed. Hermione wrenched free of LeMenteur’s grasp, but stood firm.

    “No,” she yelled.

    “Just as insolent as your friend there,” LeMenteur said, and pointed his wand at Harry.

    “Do it, or your friend dies,” Malagar said to her. Harry felt a sick swoop of horror fill him. He was the bait. They were using him against Hermione, a situation he never believed he would be in. Tears filled Hermione’s eyes.    

    “Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him,” she pleaded.

    “Then fetch me the book! I grow tired of waiting!” Malagar screeched. Hermione made a step forward, but Harry felt something click in his brain as he looked into LeMenteur’s red eyes.

    “Don’t move, Hermione,” he said forcefully. She stopped moving, turning to look at him in shock.

    “What’s this?” Malagar asked in disbelief. “The boy is acting brave and begging for death? Gryffindor would have loved to see that his students were acting so courageously.” She turned back to Hermione.    

    “Move or he dies.”

    “Don’t move Hermione!” he yelled again.

    “But she’ll kill you!” she yelled. Harry knew this, and he accepted it. If he died, Voldemort would die as well. His struggle would be over, Voldemort would be destroyed, and the wizarding world would be free. Harry pointed his wand at Malagar, and looked directly into Hermione’s eyes.

    “Don’t touch that book,” he said. Malagar adjusted herself, her limp pronounced as she looked over at LeMenteur, who looked deeply shaken up.     “The boy wants to die, LeMenteur,” Malagar said slowly. “I shall grant him his wish.”

    “Stupefy!” Harry yelled, and a brilliant red light streaked towards Malagar. She blocked it, and waved her wand.

    “Avada Kedavra!” The green light flew forward, and Harry closed his eyes, waiting for it to hit him. He waited to hear the rush of wind, but no such sound came. He opened his eyes and saw that he was not hit. He turned and saw Ron, his eyes wide with shock, suddenly awake.

    “She barely missed you!” he stammered. “You didn’t even move!”

    “I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” Hermione wept, and she strode forward towards the Book of Light.

    “Do it! KILL ME!” Harry screamed, but Malagar merely laughed in return.

    “Why kill you when you so desperately want it? No, I have greater use for you three. You can be very valuable in the coming struggle. Now you, take the book and open it. Find the incantation that will release the bindings on the Tome of Shadows.” Hermione grabbed the book, and opened it up. A glow of light shone like a beacon in the gloomy darkness of the cave, and the dementors glided backwards, as if repelled the by the brilliant light.

    “It’s in an ancient language, I can’t understand it,” Hermione said, flipping the pages. “I’ve never seen a written language like it before. It’s not just ancient hieroglyphics.”

    “Of course it’s not, you miserable little girl,” Malagar spat. “That is the ancient language of magic, the power itself in written form. I should have known, you are too weak for the magic to reveal itself.” Malagar strode forward, but then Hermione turned, and she too, shockingly, still had her wand. She pointed it towards Malagar.

    “Lumen malum vindictus!” she cried, and a bolt of white light jetted from the book, and struck Malagar directly in the chest. The hag was hurtled back, and she struck the wall, sending dust into the air. LeMenteur turned on her, but that was when Hermione struck next.

    “Lumen malum vindictus” Hermione screamed again, and another bolt of light hurtled towards LeMenteur. He ducked, and the bolt went awry, but he fell to the ground, his gloved hands covering his head. The dementors made to move toward Hermione, but she pointed the book at them, and they stayed put, their breathing rattling with fury. Taking a swift look towards Harry, Hermione ran forward towards Harry, who was already untying Ron. She was nearly there when a purple orb came from nowhere, striking Hermione and sending her to her knees. She looked up, and her face was turning red, as if she was choking.

    “Oh God, Hermione!” Harry yelled. Her hands flew up to her throat, trying to undo the curse. Malagar was hobbling towards them, her veil thrown back, and Harry saw what had to be the most horrifying face he had ever seen. Malagar’s skin was rotted, decaying, a putrid color of purple, with holes and bubbles as if her skin was melting and falling off. Her hair, a wilted grey, fell from her head in strands; her head was patched and bald in some places. Her nose was broken in three places, and when she opened her mouth in pleasure, he saw three rotted teeth, all black, and her tongue was black as well. But it was her eyes, her hollow eyes, filled with what looked like a knot of worms, that disgusted him. She lowered the veil so that he could not see her face, and she cackled.

    “Release her!” Harry yelled desperately.

    “Give me the Book of Light.”

    “RELEASE HER!” Hermione was gagging, and she would soon pass out. Malagar waved her wand, and Hermione sputtered, taking gulps of air.

    “The whore isn’t worth anything to me,” Malagar spat, and Harry felt anger surge through him. He wanted to kill the miserable hag, and put her out of her misery. “Now. Give me the Tome of Shadows, or I will resume the curse and kill her.”

    “Find the incantation, Hermione,” Harry said, never taking his eyes off of Malagar. LeMenteur got up, dusted off his fancy robes, and strode forward.

    “I’ve had enough of this insolence, kill them!” he yelled.

    “I cannot kill them in cold blood,” Malagar said simply.

    “And why not?” LeMenteur cried in surprise.

    “Do not question me again, LeMenteur.”

    “Let’s go then,” Harry whispered. “If she won’t kill us...”

    “Au contraire,” LeMenteur said simply. “She can’t kill you, but I certainly have no qualms about it. Now find the incantation, if you please.” Malagar shifted again. Harry gazed at her, trying to figure her angle, but she was a wild card. Her actions certainly contradicted themselves. She had no problem throwing two Killing Curses at Harry, one back in the spring, and she enjoyed watching Hermione nearly choke to death, but she could not kill in cold blood. What was she playing at? And who was LeMenteur to be aiding her, when the two had very little in common? Hermione opened the book, her eyes scanning the page.

    “Don’t give it to her,” Ron said loudly. LeMenteur pointed his wand at Ron.

    “You don’t want another dose of my medicine, now do you, Mr. Weasley?” LeMenteur said harshly.

    “Just you wait. My brother will be dying to know that you’re a filthy traitor to the Ministry,” Ron shot back.

    “And who says you won’t be dying once we get the Tome?” LeMenteur responded. “You three seem awfully confident that you can escape the Pyramid of Furmat alive, even if you manage to escape us.” Harry felt oddly uncomfortable; the three of them by all rights should have been dead. Malagar didn’t need him or Ron alive, and yet here they were, with their wands, able to fight. It didn’t tally up. Malagar had set him up before, staging a conversation. Was she doing so now? She was making it far too easy.

    “By the powers of light and the forces of good, release the bindings of this evil, and give its craven powers to the beholder,” Hermione read. The room grew dark, and there was a heavy clanking sound. The lights returned, and the Tome of Shadows lay neatly on the pedestal above which it was floating.

    “Yes...my book...” Malagar said, striding forward. She held out her hands lovingly, almost afraid of ruining the anticipation of the moment. She touched the book, and instantly it vanished.    

    “What is this magic?” Malagar said, rounding on Hermione.

    “I don’t...I don’t know...it was the right incantation!” Hermione said, flipping the pages. Malagar strode forward, but there was a loud booming crash, and sand started to fall from the ceiling. A loud groan filled the room, and a cracking sound as a large fissure spread up the walls of the chamber.

    “It’s crashing in!” Ron yelled.

    “Damn!” Malagar screeched. The dementors swooped, gliding into shadow, and disappearing completely. With a loud crack, Malagar and LeMenteur apparated out of the chamber, leaving the kids alone, unguarded, and with no escape.

    “RUN!” Harry yelled, grabbing a fistful of Hermione’s and Ron’s robes and running forward. Bricks were crashing down from the ceiling, hitting the ground with a thud. The entire pyramid seemed to be shaking. Harry led them through the boggart room, through the viewing room, and into the room of where he fought his mirror. They reached the area where they were lowered by the pedestal, but there was no way up.

    “How do we get out?” Ron yelled.

    “I don’t know!” Hermione screamed in response. More chunks were falling from the ceiling, and dust was being released in the air. Harry coughed, ducking out of the way when a huge stone chunk came hurtling down the chute, crashing in between them.

    “Hermione, check the book! Teleportation, apparition, anything!” He could hear her rifle through the pages as the entire pyramid shook. If she couldn’t find anything, they were trapped. He jumped over the stone chunk and landed next to Ron and Hermione, who were staring at the book.

    “There’s nothing!” Hermione yelled. There was a loud crash, and the pyramid shuddered violently. The ceiling caved, and Harry looked in horror as the entire ceiling was about to crash down on them. He held out his hands in futility, knowing it was too late to use his wand.

    “NO!” he yelled. There was a crackle, and when he looked above him, he saw that there were two wizards standing above them, their wands pointed at the debris. Harry looked up in amazement and saw two of the most unlikely people in the world: Aunt Petunia and Arabella Figg. The rubble vanished, and Mrs. Figg disappeared in a flash of blue light. She reappeared at Harry’s side.

    “Gather around, children,” she said urgently.

    “How did you...” Harry asked, but she gave him a stern look.

    “Now is not the time for foolish questions, now hurry!” Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed some of her robes. There was a deafening crack, and blue light filled Harry’s eyes as he felt himself rushing upwards, and suddenly he was standing next to everyone else on the next level.

    “Now out!” Mrs. Figg yelled, and they ran through the golden room, and when Harry saw the black wall of shadow, he ran towards it.

    “Not that way,” Mrs. Figg yelled, and turned him in a different direction. She waved her wand, and a golden wall slid aside and revealed a dusty, dirt laden hallway that angled up. The pyramid gave another shudder, and they increased their speed, winding up the ramp.

    “Dear Lord,” Aunt Petunia yelled, and they saw a dementor, standing at the end of the ramp, hovering menacingly.

    “Now is not the time for this,” Mrs. Figg yelled. “Expecto Patronum!” A large, silver bird erupted from her wand, and soared through the ramp. The dementor vanished, and the five of them scrabbled up the hall. The ceiling was getting lower and lower until they could not move anymore. Mrs. Figg flashed her wand, and a square in the ceiling disappeared, and she climbed through. The rest of them scrambled through, and they were in the room where the lightning was flashing above, only something different had happened. Lightning was slashing all across the room, striking wildly.

    “How do we get through?” Aunt Petunia yelled.

    “We run,” Mrs. Figg said, but no sooner had she said it than she realized that nearly ten dementors were hovering in the room, their breath rattling. Harry could feel cold slipping over them. He raised his wand, but Mrs. Figg held his wand down.

    “You fool, you’ll kill us using that magic.” The dementors advanced, the lightning striking harmlessly through them. Harry could hear screaming in his ears, his mother, Sirius, all mixed together. He saw Hermione dead on the ground, and he felt weak. He turned to Hermione, who opened the book.

    “Potentia lucis defendum!” Hermione shrieked, and a circle of light surrounded the five of them.

    “Good girl!” Mrs. Figg yelled. Lightning streaked down and struck the circle, but they were unharmed. They knew a moment of terror as they ran through the dementors, each one circling around the circle but not able to penetrate the protection. They left the stormy room, and they came through the room with the chimaera statues, and they emerged from the shadow rooms, and out of the inner vault. They ran, clumps of ceiling crashing harmlessly on the shield of light, until they reached the disappearing floor room. They ran, and as they did so the floor collapsed, falling into the abyss of the pyramid. They ran through the corridor of flames, running through the fiery hallway and running out of the pyramid. Harry stopped to rest, but Mrs. Figg urged them on.

    “Keep moving!” she yelled. Harry looked back and saw the pyramid collapsing in on itself, large black storm clouds swirling above the once mighty structure. They were a hundred yards away when the light shield finally disappeared. They were all heaving, their breath coming in ragged gasps.

    “Why...couldn’t...you...just...apparate...us...out...” Ron asked between heaving breaths. Mrs. Figg adjusted her tightly wound bun before answering.

    “Because she has the Book of Light. Such objects cannot travel through apparition. And we could not leave her or the book in the pyramid, now could we?”

    “How did you know we were in there?” Harry asked her.

    “Kwame Moustafa never showed up to the business meeting,” Aunt Petunia explained, her face flushed and her breath coming very quickly. “And I called Mrs. Figg to tell her that something fishy was going on, like we had agreed. She got here very quickly, and when she learned where you folks were planning going, she put it together.”

    “How did you get through all of those obstacles?” Harry asked.

    “You three are not the only accomplished wizards and witches,” Mrs. Figg said, and her expression turned suddenly hawk-like. “And a word to the not so wise. You were foolish to go that deep into the pyramid. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

    “We have a good clue,” Ron said.

    “You dolts,” Mrs. Figg said, her eyes blazing. “You went into that pyramid, knowing that it was probably a trap! What if you were killed?”

Ron hung his head, staring busily at his feet, which were now only covered with one sneaker, the one Hermione conjured having finally vanished. Hermione clung to the book, staring at the ground as well. Harry looked defiantly at Mrs. Figg.

    “What if I was killed?” he asked boldly. She gave him a stern look.

    “Enough of this rubbish. We’re going back to the hotel room. You had better get some sleep, we return to England tomorrow.”

    “Here’s the book,” Hermione muttered sheepishly, but Mrs. Figg shook her head.

    “I cannot touch the book. It is yours to safe keep. I will have to consult with Albus about this. That book is far too precious to keep in your guard.”

    “Yes. Talk with Dumbledore. I’m sure he’ll figure it all out,” Harry said sullenly. Ron looked at him in surprise, while Hermione gave him a reproving look.

    “He will know what to do, which is more than I can say for you. At least he keeps his wits about him,” Mrs. Figg said. Aunt Petunia was looking just as furious, but perhaps their mortal peril had softened her a bit. “Now gather around, we need to apparate to the hotel before Muggles or the authorities arrive.” And with another crack and flash of blue light, they were gone.

***

    Harry was lying in bed, mulling the day over. He had not spoken a word to Ron or Hermione since they had gotten back to the hotel, retreating to silence. The sight of Hermione dead played over in his mind, the fact that Malagar used her and Ron against him, shook him to his core. And last, and worst, was when he begged for death, and nearly got it. He reflected on his decision, and he stood by it. If no Voldemort meant no Harry, then that was what was going to happen.

    “Harry?” he heard Ron ask, and he stayed still, hoping to trick Ron into thinking he was sleeping.

    “That’s not going to fool us Harry,” a stern voice said, and when he opened his eyes he saw Ron and Hermione standing above his bed.

    “What?” he asked viciously, feeling aggravated with them for no reason, taking his state of mind out on them. Ron flinched, but Hermione straightened to full height.

    “What were you thinking back in the pyramid? Asking Malagar to kill you? Nearly letting her? That was foolish, Harry. You nearly got yourself killed,” Hermione yelled. Harry made no response and stared defiantly at them.

    “Sacrifices need to be made,” Harry shot back. Ron looked appalled at the notion.

    “Blimey, what a thing to say!” he said.

    “Harry James Potter!” Hermione yelled. “When did you get the sense knocked out of you?” Harry felt his anger swell, and he teetered on the verge of telling them that if he died, Voldemort would die. He wanted to tell them about Fawkes’ decision, how he was doomed to die. He wanted to say it so he could appreciate the horrified looks, so they understood a fraction of the terror he felt.

    “You just don’t understand,” Harry said, throwing his head back onto his pillow.

    “Then help us understand,” Ron said. “Why did you do it?”     

    “I...” Harry said, feeling temptation swaying his mind. But all at once, it collapsed in on itself, and Harry felt cold and lonely inside. “Nothing. I’m going to bed.”

    “Harry!” Hermione said sharply, but he ignored her. He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t risk them. He cared for them too much to put them in any more danger. He knew what he had to do, and as hard as it was to admit it, he would do it tomorrow.

    He could no longer be friends with either of them.

    “Fine, stew in your anger. But when you’re ready to talk, we’ll be here,” Hermione said. “Come on Ron, let’s look through this book. There has to be something important in here.”

    “Are you sure we should read it?”

    “Of course. It’s mine to guard, so it’s mine to read. Besides, when have you ever known me to refuse to read a book?”

    “Never,” Ron said bemusedly. Harry could feel Ron’s glance at him, but he stood resolute. He kept his eyes closed, trying to force the ugly visions of Hermione dead from his brain, and slowly, he fell asleep.