Chapter 6
"Borgin!," Gevin banged heavily on the door. "Borgin! Open this door or I will come through it!"
He heard the click of a lock being opened, then the sound of a sliding bolt and finally an incantation to undo the spells of protection. It opened and the miserable face of Mr. Borgin of the infamous Borgin and Burkes appeared.
"What do you want? Haven't you caused enough trouble already?"
"They've taken her, Mr Borgin. Please I need to know where they have her."
"I knew they would eventually, it was just a matter of time," Borgin replied with a dark glare.
"What are you talking about? Who took her? Was it the damnable T.C.O.E.? Who are they and what do they want?" Gevin cried in exasperation.
"Who, the who? What are you babbling about?"
"The T.C.O.E. the ones who are after the chest."
"You have lost it, haven't you? The death-eaters took my daughter. The 'death-eaters' boy!"
"The death-eaters? Why would they… I'm confused. Please tell me what you know."
Borgin stood in the doorway for quite some time. His face looked wearier than normal and the worry lines in his face had grown deeper.
"Come in. I will… talk with you for awhile, but then I want you to leave. Do you understand?"
"Believe me, I will be happy to honor that offer," was Gevin's hostile reply.
Gevin walked in and noticed that the store looked in a state of disarray. More than usual anyway.
"Your Uncle came to see me today," Borgin said with anger.
"My Uncle? He's alive? That means…"
"Yes! We both know full well what that means. Listen carefully and I will tell you what I know.
Borgin told Gevin the story of how he found the chest in Bulgaria and within a day a letter had come with a sizeable offer for it. Shortly thereafter another letter came, from the Dark Lord himself, offering a king's ransom for it. He quickly agreed to the deal, as he knew it would be death to refuse.
"Who was the first offer from?"
"I don't know. It was signed Vilavarg followed by the letters T.C.O.E. I find it interesting that you believe they are somehow involved."
Gevin sighed as he began the story from the beginning. He left out anything about the personal feelings that arose between Ellie and himself, but filled in all the pertinent information. In turn, Borgin told him about everything he had seen and heard. The two talked earnestly for half the night.
"You're part muggle? I had no idea. Not that it matters to me, but I am a bit surprised."
"Aye, now you know why my life is now in a bit of a spot. So, we can agree that it is most likely this other group took the chest, but that leaves the question of who has my daughter. I want you to find her Gevin. My life is merely a shadow, but she is the one spark that is in it. I would not be happy about her death."
"I am going to get her, if she is still alive. That I promise, however I should warn you that when all is said and done, I am taking her away from all this."
"I can live with that," the man said with cold earnest. "Here take this, it might help you."
Borgin walked back behind the counter and brought out a small metal box. He lifted the lid and pulled out what was hidden within. It was a strange cube that gave off the tiniest white glow. He placed it in a black velvet pouch attached to a silver chain.
"Wear this around your neck. It might come in handy."
"What is it?" Gevin questioned.
"It is the only piece of light magic that I own. It belonged to my wife. Being who I am and what I do, I have no use for it. Perhaps it will bring you luck. I'm… I'm not exactly sure what it does, but my wife always insisted that it was a powerful charm."
Gevin quickly placed it around his neck and stood up.
"I have to go Mr. Borgin. We will likely not meet again. I hope all goes well for you."
"Save the false goodwill for someone else. I have no need of it here."
With that Gevin turned around and left Knockturn Alley and never returned.
--- ---
She awoke. The room was pitch black. She slowly sat up. She was lying on the floor. She thought it odd that the floor was carpeted. She did not expect this of a dungeon. Which is where she surely must have been. Her heart gripped with fear, when she suddenly realized that she had no idea of who had her. Was it the death-eaters, or was it the mysterious ones that Gevin believed to be the true evil in the world?
"Is anyone there?" she asked timidly. "Hello?"
A commanding voice spoke, "You are alive now, because we wish it to be so. However, we of the Circle have no qualms about removing your life if it comes to that. I assure you it will be most unpleasant if you force our hand."
"Please tell me, where am I?"
"You are in a secret chamber in the ministry of magic. It is here we will wait for our moment of triumph. Voldemort and Dumbledore will soon face each other, and we will be here to destroy whomever survives."
"I don't understand. Why am I here?"
"You will bring him to us."
"Who? Gevin? Why do you want him?"
"He is the direct descendant of our master. We will need his blood."
"His blood, but what for? Who is he the descendant of?"
"You mean you don't know? Foolish girl, the Rookwood family is very, very old; far older than Malfoy, or Black, or any of these so called pure-bloods. Their family can be traced all the way back to Emeric Rookwood, or as you may know him Emeric the Evil."
"Emeric the Evil? What does he have to do with any of this?"
"We of The Circle Of Emeric have been waiting for over a thousand years to return our master to his former glory. We have been waiting for the Chest of Slytherin to come to light once more. Thanks to your father we now have it within our possession. And of course, Gevin shall come for you. When he does we will force him to act, to preserve your meager life. He will undo the rune of our master, and spill his blood into it to perform the ritual."
"The ritual?" Ellie did not like the sound of that.
"The chest has a unique power, it can divine not just anywhere… but any'time'. Gevin will look into the past and see his ancient ancestor and will perform the simplest of spells. He will apparate Master Emeric, to here… to now."
"Why don't you do it, why do you need Gevin?"
"Sadly, Gevin is the only one who knows how to remove the rune. We could not get the information we needed from the shoemaker's ghost, and our spy at Hogwarts wasn't intelligent enough to understand what he overheard. The one who first learned the secret was not to be killed until we learned what we needed to know, but Voldemort discovered the boy and sent his minion to kill him. So, that leaves only Gevin. Once the rune is removed, the spell across time will need to be cast. To cast a spell in the present can be done by anyone, but to cast a spell in the past requires a special connection. A connection of blood descendancy."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Ellie asked, realizing that this was probably not a good sign.
"Because girl, you are going to be the one to convince him to do it."
The reality of the situation sank into Ellie like a stone. Gevin would come for her. She would be under the control of the Circle. He would believe her and do exactly what she asked. Any ounce of hope left her like wilting flowers under the icy winds of winter.
If Voldemort won the coming battle then Emeric would kill him, if Dumbledore won then he would be the one to die. There was no possible outcome she could think of that would save the world from their coming fate. She quietly sobbed into her hands, sitting in the darkness.
--- ---
Hermione shot up from her sleep. Wide awake she sat staring into the quiet dormitory. Everyone was asleep and the early hours of morning were still. She had an uncontrollable shiver running down her spine. She quickly got out of bed and threw on a robe. She grabbed her wand and made her way down to the common room. Not knowing where exactly she was going, or why, she stepped through the painting of the fat lady and onto the stairs beyond it.
Luna Lovegood was sitting on the steps just below her. She quietly walked down and sat beside her.
"Luna, are you okay?"
"But it's not really me that matters, now is it?"
"I'm sorry, I don't follow you," Hermione replied perplexed.
"The Slytherin boy, the nice one. I like him, he's different. Doesn't quite fit in."
"Tobias? What about him?"
"My father wrote a story about the wild grendel hag that lives in the forest…"
"Luna, there's no wild hag in the forest. Hagrid would know about it if there was one and he would have warned us."
"My father is never wrong. Just because you or Hagrid haven't seen one, doesn't mean it isn't out there."
"Okay… I guess, but what does that have to do with Tobias?"
Luna sighed, "Because. People like Tobias and… me, we're the kinds of people that a hag would want to eat. They always eat the misfits. Always."
For some reason, Luna did not seem so crazy right now. Hermione was not sure why, but she suddenly became deathly afraid. What if something was going to happen to Tobias? What if it was too late?
"Luna, are you absolutely sure about this?" Hermione asked in all seriousness.
Luna turned and looked directly into Hermione's eyes.
"I am sure Hermione Granger."
Hermione stood up.
"My father tells me that when grendel hags eat adults its one thing, but when they eat children that is very different. Everyone forgets that the child was ever there. It's some kind of strange magic they have."
Hermione was already bounding down the stairs. She had to tell someone, anyone to check on Tobias and make sure he was okay. She was sure he was, but there was a nagging feeling that she could not shake.
"Of course," Hermione groaned.
"What are you doing out of bed?!" bellowed Filch.
"Mr. Filch, I need to see Professor McGonagall right away. No take me to Snape. Take me to Professor Snape right away. I need to speak to him. It is a matter of life and death."
Filch thought of about five or six nasty replies, but one thing stopped him. No student, in their right mind, would demand to see Snape in the middle of the night. He thought it would be great fun to see what fate awaited the snotty Miss Granger. So, he took her down to Snape's chamber and stood out of the way.
"Feel free to knock. I'd rather you be the one," he said with a smirk.
Hermione walked straight up and began to pound on the door.
"Professor Snape? Professor Snape? Please, I need to speak to you!"
After a moment the door flew open and a very unhappy Snape appeared. He looked first at Filch and then down at Hermione.
"Granger, first off, fifty points from Gryffindor for waking me up in the middle of the night. If there is not someone currently dying, then I will take off another hundred!"
"Professor Snape, please, there is a student in grave trouble. One of your students in Slytherin. I need you to check on him. Please"
She said it with such desperation in her voice that it gave Snape pause.
"Who is it Granger? Who is in trouble?"
"Tobias. Tobias Beldower," she replied breathlessly.
Snape looked down at Hermione for a long time.
"Another hundred points for lying and I will see you in detention tomorrow Miss Granger."
"Lying?! Lying about what?"
"There are no students at this school by that name. Filch! Make sure she goes right back to her common room. I advise you to immediately go back to bed, tomorrow is going to be a long day for you."
With that, Snape slammed the door closed. Filch began to laugh a wicked little laugh.
"Well, well… that was definitely worth it," he decided.
Hermione stood there, mouth wide open. Filch grabbed her by the shoulder and forcibly walked her back to the stairs.
"You march straight up, and don't you dare try any funny business. I'm watching you."
Hermione began to walk up the stairs numbly. There was Luna, right where Hermione had left her.
"Luna, you were right. I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."
"About what?" she said kind of dreamily.
"About Tobias. Snape didn't even remember his name. One of his star students. There's no other explanation."
"Who's Tobias?" she responded.
--- ---
Harry's dreams were deeply troubling that night. He had planned on trying to communicate with Sirius Black tomorrow and he was beginning to really worry. He dreamt about Ron telling him that he had been replaced by Ginny on the Quidditch team permanently. He dreamt that Voldemort was attacking him. He dreamt about Hermione, in his dream he could actually smell her hair and it smelled just like summer. He dreamt about a strange chest that began to suck the whole world into it.
He finally was awakened by sunlight streaming into the room. He remembered that he was going to talk to Sirius tonight and the thought motivated him. He quickly got dressed and ran downstairs. There was Hermione. It looked like she had not even slept.
"Morning Hermione."
"Hi Harry," she said in an almost dead voice.
"You alright?"
"No, not really. By the way, I snuck into your room last night and stole your invisibility cloak. I'm really sorry, but I had no choice. Here you go."
She held it out for Harry. He took it without saying anything. She was not looking well at all.
"Hermione?"
"Go put your cloak away Harry. We'll talk later. I promise."
"Okay," Harry said as he tried to smile at her.
She did not seem to notice. He turned and went back upstairs to stash the cloak away. When he left the room Hermione stared up after him. Her eyes filled with tears. She had been holding a piece of parchment in her hand. It was from Tobias. It started out as an essay on how Salazar Slytherin died, but towards the end it changed. It was a letter to her.
Dear Hermione,
You have been my only friend and for that I thank you. As I was sitting here, I got a premonition of my own death. So, I thought I had better write down a few things before my time is up. You have nothing to fear from the chest. Gevin will destroy it. So, place that burden out of your mind. However, I wanted to write to you about the vision I had about you. I am convinced that tomorrow tonight is the night it will happen. Your time is up and you have very little more to waste. You will die. Harry will ask you to go somewhere with him. You will try and talk him out of it, but will not succeed. You will go, because you care so much for him. If you go you will most likely save Harry's life, but you will be killed shortly after. So, knowing that you probably haven't told Harry how you really feel about him, maybe because you don't even know it yet, your time has run out. I certainly can't tell you what you should do. Perhaps just by going, with the knowledge you now have, you will be speaking volumes to him about the depth of commitment to him. Of course, if you do go, you must NOT tell him what is going to happen to you. If you do that, he will not be able to succeed and will die also. Be brave my wonderful friend. Either stay and live to fight another day, or go and die for the one you love. Whatever your choice, I will always think very highly of you. Oh, and don't forget, I'm only eighty percent accurate, so who really knows anything for sure. I wanted to make sure that I shared this with you before it was too late. There's some other things I need to tell you as well. First, there is the matter of… Hermione, there's something in my room…
It ended there. Reading the last line had made her blood turn cold. She held it close to her. If she read it everyday, she might be able to remember him. She had to try. If she did not, then no one else would and his life would then become meaningless.
--- ---
Four centaurs returned. The boldest stepped forward and threw the hag's head down before the elders. The other three carried their fallen brother.
"I have failed. One of our brothers died during the battle, I was the head of the hunting party and therefore I am too blame."
"No," cried many of the centaurs around them. They knew of his bravery and not one would let him carry the blame for this death.
"There is more," he continued. "The hag killed one of the Hogwarts children. She had already eaten him when we caught up to her. There was nothing that could be done. Our delay in hunting this creature has cost us greatly."
No one spoke. The wisest and oldest elder who aroused the hunt in the first place broke the silence.
"We must contact Hagrid very soon. We will tell him what has occurred and ask him to seek forgiveness from Dumbledore for our arrogance. Though I am still angry at his taking in one our kind to teach his students; I still feel that we must at least keep the channels of dialogue open, at least for now. I have nothing further to say about this, at this time."
The elder stepped away and turned into the forest. The bitter taste of death filled his mouth.
"All is not well, Dumbledore my old friend," he thought aloud. "What are we to do? I fear this war will come to our forest whether we choose to see it or not. We must find a way to mend our differences and soon. I fear Voldemort is almost upon us.