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missjosie27 · 4 years

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Year 3 Part 11- The Vault of Fear

Hello, friends.

The chapter is nigh upon us. The second vault that David and company has to tackle is here and who knows what's in store...I mean that facetiously of course given we know what happens in the game but even so I hope you all enjoy the action involved as well as my own spin on the game.

As always any feedback, kudos, and comments are well appreciated. I always want to do the characters and the HP universe justice.One more thing I'd like to add. To those who like or consider themselves Slytherin: perception will be changing very soon.

Anyway, on with the story!

Unlike the previous two years where David and company either became distracted with schoolwork, Quidditch, or other pressing matters, this time the vaults were the central focus. Aside from maintaining good marks, it was all that mattered. And this time around, there was actually a formalized, concrete plan being put into action.

The boggarts were still around and causing terror, sparing no one. Fifth and seventh years were becoming increasingly paranoid due to OWLs and NEWTs that were coming up and one’s worst fear popping up randomly while studying certainly didn’t help. The younger students were also quite jumpy and Madam Pomfrey needed an extra stash of calming draughts and chocolate on hand for the amount of people she was receiving into her wing. Chiara stated as much every time the group saw her.

In order to prepare properly several things were being done at once. With the entrance of the vault being at the restricted section it posed a double conundrum. Madam Pince didn’t like even the smallest amount of noise in her library, and to try and break a curse near an off limits area was just the icing on the cake. So Tulip and Tonks began devising ways of distracting the hawkish librarian when the time came. Penny, Rowan, and Ben all lended a hand by researching new spells that could possibly be of use inside the vault though ‘Riddikulus’ was the primary go to. In addition to that, Bill and Barnaby continued in teaching him defensive magic, which turned out to be not as easy as offensive.

“I really need to get better in charms” he remarked one day in early, soggy May while on the training grounds.

“You have to envision the shield in order to get it to full strength,” Bill told him after Barnaby shattered it for the third time in a row. They weren’t dueling technically, but getting hit by wave after wave of knockback jinxes from the powerful Slytherin wasn’t his idea of a good time.

“It worked against Flint,” he muttered, pulling himself back up from the grass and wiping mud off his pants.

“Heat of the moment. You wanted to protect Elora and therefore all gave every ounce of your concentration to it. But not every situation will be like that, the focus must be constant,” Bill explained. “Dueling is often spontaneous.”

Barnaby scratched his head in confusion.

“Is that another word I don’t know? I really should keep a dictionary on hand.”

“A dictionary wouldn’t be a bad idea, big guy,” David said with an encouraging smile.

“Yeah, I had one before but Ismelda stole it,” the big third year Slytherin shrugged. “She does that a lot actually.”

“More to the point,” Bill interjected. “Is that you’re going to run into those two girls at some point again and simply ducking and dodging won’t always work. Merula knows her curses from what I hear and so does Ismelda.”

“Can confirm,” Barnaby nodded. “When you’re the child of Death Eaters, you get taught a lot of spells you probably shouldn’t know at Hogwarts...or ever.”

David knew they were right and prepared himself once more to survive the onslaught of Barnaby’s spells. When the big man fired he again imagined a white shield forming around his person.

“Protego!”

It had the desired effect same as it did with Hadrian Flint. The spell bounced harmlessly off of the shield and back in the other direction, causing Bill and Barnaby to duck.

“That’s more like it,” Bill grinned at him.

Just then a paper message flew out of nowhere, hitting Barnaby in the back of the head.

“Was I expecting mail today?” he asked aloud, picking it up.

“No Barnaby. It’s from Tulip,” David calmly explained. “And from the looks of it, she wants us to meet in my brother’s room tonight after dinner.”

“She wants us to arrive once every fifteen minutes to avoid suspicion from the Professors,” Bill added. “Nice touch. She may be eccentric, but she’s also clever that one.”

“You learn that pretty quickly once you spend as much with her as I have,” David said, crumpling up the piece of paper and setting it afire, to the surprise of his other two companions.

“Can’t have it be discovered by anyone else,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re also a lot a cleverer than you give yourself credit for,” Bill told him.

“I’ll need every ounce to get into this vault,” David said candidly. “We all will.”

Barnaby hadn’t said anything for a moment and he was looking off into the distance, eyes narrowed as though he were trying to make out something from afar.

“You okay, mate?”

“I thought I saw...never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

David and Bill shrugged, content to prepare for the meeting later tonight. Whatever was going on, they’d find out but with time growing short to enter the vault, to be prepared was absolutely essential.

Luckily for them, no one could plan like Tulip Karasu.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Though there were some hiccups, eventually the recently formed ‘cursebreaker’ gang were able to meet without detection and despite the space being a bit crammed, they managed to fit inside well enough. The group consisted of Tulip, Penny, Rowan, Bill, Tonks, Barnaby, Rowan, and David of course.

“Let’s make this quick,” Tulip said to them all. “We don’t want the professors to think anything’s amiss.”

“Why couldn’t we have done this in the Great Hall?” Penny asked, giving a sideways glance. “I’m getting kind of claustrophobic in here.”

“Can’t risk people getting suspicious seeing the lot of us together,” Bill pointed out. “Think about it, there’s representatives from all four houses in this group of ours now. It's like the opening line of a joke.”

“What’s the punchline?” Barnaby asked with excitement.

“Snape or Filch walking in on all of us here,” David muttered. “Anyway let’s get down to it. Tulip, shall you go first?”

“With pleasure.”

The Ravenclaw laid out a piece of paper on one of the desks as the teens gathered around it in a circle.

“Alright so this is a diagram of the library. The entrance to the Restricted Section is here, the first left off to the side. We’ll need to distract Madam Pince long enough to enter it and break the curse on the vault. Part one is Bill.”

“I have prefect duty that night,” he explained. “I’ll give you cover after hours.”

“Second comes the distraction: Rowan and Penny, you’re among the students Pince despises the least. Tonks...you’re among the most. The first two will convince that loony librarian to help them find extra books for studying exams. Then, Tonks will cause a commotion.”

“It’s what I do best,” the metamorphagus grinned.

“I fear having my library privileges revoked,” Rowan said with slight apprehension. “But I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

David smiled and clasped his best friend on the shoulder in a show of support.

“I know, mate. Thank you.”

Tulip continued on shifting her finger towards the entrance.

“Once Pince is sufficiently occupied we enter the Restricted Section, go into the vault, break the curse and we’re done.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Penny chimed in. “What if it takes longer than the last time to break the curse?”

“It’s a risk we have to take, Penny,” David told her. “If we don’t, these boggarts are never going away and the entire population of this school will become too frightened to do anything.”

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Tonks stated. “Plenty of older students have entered the restricted section this year but they don’t see any cursed vault.”

“That’s because they don’t have the proper key to get inside. In the first vault, I found a blank book and my brother’s broken wand. I’m willing to bet five hundred galleons you need at least one of them to get inside,” the third year Gryffindor explained.

“There’s no telling what’s inside,” Bill said to the group, being one of three who had actually gone inside of a vault. “We had to fight an ice knight last year, so who knows what’s in store for us this year. But whatever it is, I have full confidence we can beat it.”

There were murmurs of agreement but not before Barnaby interjected with something they all missed.

“We have to be careful of Merula,” he said in his quiet baritone. “I’m not the brightest bloke in the world, but I know she’s been following us around for the past month or so. Same with Ismelda. She’s going to try and get into the vault before we do.”

“Merula’s clever but even she can’t take on all of us,” Tulip pointed out.

“That won’t stop her from trying,” David said, shaking his head. “If it comes to that, I’ll deal with her personally. When it comes to dueling Merula and Ismelda I have a fair bit of experience.”

Barnaby nodded, cracking his knuckles.

“So do I. You can count on me, Dave. They won’t touch you.”

“It’s settled then,” David announced. “We all know what to do and what the plan is. The only other question is when we should attempt this.”

“I’m glad you asked David Grant,” Tulip said, her trademark mischievous smirk growing wider. “As it so happens I have the perfect date in mind.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Friday, June 5th, 1987.

That was the date Tulip chose and with good reason. She had it on good authority (meaning she somehow pinched the information from Head Boy Chester Davies) that there was to be a staff meeting that day led by Professor McGonagall since Dumbledore was currently off elsewhere. It was the second time in the last two years the greatest wizard of the age inexplicably vanished out of nowhere but it also brought about the perfect timing to enter the vault.

Despite being far more prepared than the spontaneous undertaking the previous year to save the school from cursed ice, David couldn’t deny his nerves were not completely settled. If his parents found out he had gone into another cursed vault they would go ballistic and there was no telling what Dumbledore’s reaction would be considering his warning at the beginning of the year.

However, his daring and sense of family overrode any apprehension still lurking underneath the surface. He was not one to back down in the face of a challenge, and in private moments, allowed himself to remember the reasons for pursuing these vaults in the first place: not for glory or gold but his brother. He could see Jacob’s twinkling blue eyes stare back at him whenever questions abounded or sought to know what he was up to. At the time it was maddening, now he would do anything to witness them again.

David repeated that to himself upon the night their plan was to go into action. It was nearly 8 pm and the doors of the library were to shut soon. Bill led the way but Tulip could sense something was off (Barnaby simply munched on some left over crisps he found in his back pocket).

“Something wrong, David Grant?”

“You wouldn’t be asking if there wasn’t.”

“Touche,” she responded in kind. “Do you feel you’re ready?”

“That’s not the problem. We’re as ready as we ever could be. But…”

“But?”

“Jacob,” David admitted, and he was not keen on doing so. “I just...miss him. That’s the only reason why I do this.”

Tulip took this in, kind understanding enveloping her features.

“For someone who uses his brother as the primary motivation for these vaults, you don’t talk about him much.”

“It’s better that I don’t. Talking about Jacob is...difficult to say the least.”

Tulip reached over and gave his hand a soft squeeze, David noticed she had a very nice smelling perfume on and he resisted the urge to blush.

“You don’t have to say more. What we do tonight is another step towards finding him. Do you at least trust us?”

The third year Gryffindor nodded in the affirmative.

“If it’s one thing I’ve learned is that you need those closest to you by your side in situations like these,” he said, echoing Hagrid. “I’ve prepared as much as I can, I have my friends with me...it’s time.”

Tulip beamed at him, a bright smile crossing her porcelain features.

“This is why you’re our leader, David. Bill may be older and I might have a thing for chaotic planning, but make no mistake everyone in our group follows you. Your brother would be proud.”

He didn’t say anything more, he didn’t need to. Hazel blue eyes silently thanked dark brown ones as a growing friendship cemented itself in that moment. But there was little time to reflect on it as they soon came upon the corridor leading to the library.

“Alright, this is it,” Bill whispered to them. “I’ll be patrolling the corridors doing my duty as though nothing is out of the ordinary and I’ll give the signal if Filch or any of the teachers come by. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Bill,” David said, shaking the fifth year’s hand. He, Tulip, and Barnaby then silently approached the oak, library doors, careful not to let Madam Pince detect them just yet.

“Penny, Rowan, and Tonks will already be inside. Once they see us enter, they’ll know what to do,” Tulip affirmed. “It’s five minutes until eight.”

“Let’s do this.”

Barnaby belched causing his two friends to give him less than thrilled stares.

“Sorry...what Dave said.”

“Right. Come on then.”

Upon entering the library, Madam Pince saw them immediately, leapt up from her chair, no doubt to tell them that the library was practically closed. However, sitting at one of the middle tables right by her desk were Penny and Rowan and key to the plan they immediately intercepted her.

“Madam Pince we’re sorry to bother you, but could you help us with something?”

“I’m sorry I-”

“It won’t take long, we promise,” Penny said innocently. “We just need help finding a certain section…”

“About hippogriffs. Professor Kettleburn said they might be on the upcoming exam. Do you know where that section is?”

Pince narrowed her hawk like eyes suspiciously.

“Why do you need my help of all people, Mr. Khanna?”

Luckily Penny saved the day from Rowan’s potential bad lie.

“Neither have us have had to study creatures before. At least not for an exam and it’s crucial we get high marks.”

Sighing, the librarian relented.

“You two are the least troublesome students I have to deal with. I will show you but be quick. The library is closing in five minutes.”

“Yes, Madam Pince.”

When the three were out of sight, David, Tulip, and Barnaby scampered off and made a hard left straight to the edge of the Restricted Section.

“Nice touch by Rowan, by the way,” Tulip remarked quietly. “The Magical Creatures section is all the way in the back. Gives us more time.”

“They can’t hold her off forever,” David said. “Pince is like a Swiss watch. Always closes precisely at eight.”

“And that’s where Tonks comes in with the dungbomb. Starting right...about….”

There was a colossal boom in the background and vast amounts of shrieking in the distance.

“...now.”

“I’m very glad I wasn’t around for that,” Barnaby remarked. “I didn’t want to have to take another bath to get rid of the dungbomb smell. No one would sit next to me for days.”

“Well let’s just hope Tonks isn’t permanently given detention for that little stunt,” David said dryly.

“She’ll have company believe me,” Tulip said with a wink. “Anyway let’s get going.”

There was a lock on the Restricted Section but just as they were about to use ‘Alohomora’ a familiar, unpleasant sneer rang out from behind them.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the gang of traitors and losers. Following me again, Grant?”

Clenching his jaw, David let out a sigh. He knew that Merula was likely going to make an appearance before this was over but that didn’t mean he liked that prospect. He turned around and saw his nemesis alongside Ismelda, looking at them with vindictive expressions.

“More like the other way around,” he quipped. “You’ve been stalking us for over a month, Merula don’t even deny it.”

“How perceptive,” Merula said, rolling her eyes. “Now step aside or else.”

“These ultimatums are quite droll really,” David shot back. “What do you even want with these vaults anyway? Power? Glory? Money?”

“One can never have enough. Better reasons than yours anyway.”

“I just want to watch you all bleed,” Ismelda said, narrowing her visible, gray eye, mouth twisting into a venomous smile.

“That’s not creepy at all,” Tulip remarked disgustedly.

“Enough!” Barnaby boomed suddenly, causing everyone around him to jump. He stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves, taking out his wand menacingly. “Walk out the door before I knock both of you through a wall.”

But Merula appeared unconcerned for the moment as she regarded him in a lowly manner.

“Barnaby, you idiot. You can’t fight me.”

“It’s my job to fight you!” he yelled before looking over to David. “Isn’t it?”

Taking center stage, David placed a calm hand on his burly friend’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Barnaby. I’m the one Merula wants, I’ll handle it.”

He took out his wand and pointed it directly at her heart.

“I’m tired of fighting you all the time, Merula,” he said bluntly. “This is going to be settled once and for all. Right here. Right now.”

“Fine by me, Grant,” the Slytherin girl spat. “I’m going to enjoy seeing you on the ground begging for mercy.”

As David prepared for the battle, Tulip whispered in his ear.

“We can’t have a prolonged duel in the library. Pince will go bonkers and we’ll never get inside of the vault in time.”

“I don’t intend for this to take long,” he said back.

Indeed, his desire was to make this latest chapter in their rivalry a short one. Time was of the essence and frankly he wasn’t in the mood to make sarcastic remarks anymore. The vault, his brother, was the only thing that mattered.

I know the shield charm and she probably doesn’t. Let’s see what I can do

“Come on, Merula,” he goaded her. “Give me what you always promise: a real fight. Make mummy and daddy proud.”

It was a low blow and he knew it, but the taunting had the desired effect. Lavender eyes alight with rage, Merula immediately fired off a curse straight at his heart.

“Protego!”

Summoning all of his concentration, the shield held and it absorbed the spell. This only served to infuriate the Slytherin girl further as she fired off yet another spell.

“Revengula!”

David blocked it again, as the curse ricocheted off the shield charm almost hitting Merula in the face forcing her to duck to avoid it. Seizing the opportunity, he dropped his defense and slashed out with his wand.

“Confringo!”

The blasting hex caught Merula squarely in the stomach, sending her down to her knees in obvious pain.

“It isn’t fair!” she wheezed. “You...you always win!”

“Hurts doesn't it?” David said, failing to hide the contempt in his voice. “Both figuratively and literally.”

“Fuck you!” she tore at him. “I’m the most powerful witch at Hogwarts! This is-”

“-done,” he finished for her. “Do whatever you want Merula, but our battle is finished.”

He turned his back to her which would prove to be a mistake. Ismelda, not even bothering to help her ‘friend’, stepped in and gave a nasty leer.

“Finished? I haven’t even started!”

Whipping out her wand she quickly fired off a spell.

“Everte Statum!”

Unfortunately for David, he knew there was no time to turn around and avoid the projectile. But at the last second, Barnaby dove in front of him absorbing the hit and was sent back into the door with a heavy slam.

“Barnaby!” he cried out.

But he need not have worried. The Slytherin’s bulk and toughness shined as he was back up on his feet almost immediately, wand out.

“I don’t think so,” he said, though his voice gave away he was still in a significant amount of discomfort. By now Merula was back on her feet but Ismelda surprisingly looked shocked and almost ashamed.

“Get out of the way you glorified troll!” Merula screeched at him.

“No,” came the simple defiance. “I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

“Then...you can suffer with your new friends!” Ismelda growled at him but there was a tear running down her visible eye as she said it.

“Mate, let’s go,” David said, tugging on his arm. He did not want to leave him behind

“No. Go while I’ll hold them off. That was the plan, remember?”

“Good on him for remembering,” Tulip muttered. “You heard him, get inside the Restricted Section.”

Dodging a stinging hex sent by Ismelda, Barnaby began to duel his former companions as David unlocked the door, allowing for just enough time for him and Tulip to slip inside.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Upon catching their breaths, David and Tulip looked at each other knowing they were fortunate to escape without being discovered by Pince or maimed by the Slytherin girls who also sought the vaults.

“I still question why you were ever friends with her,” he said to the Ravenclaw girl.

“In fairness, you did taunt her about her parents.”

Tulip’s gaze held a slight touch of disapproval which in turn created a pang of guilt inside of his heart.

“I’m not proud of that. But it was the only method I could think of so she’d overreact and leave herself wide open.”

“We’ll talk more on it later,” Tulip said. “Right now we have to search for the vault.”

To find a vault inside a darkened, macabre place such as the Restricted Section would not be easy. The shelves were high, the atmosphere off putting, and there was a sense something evil was ever present inside each book. The two teens needed the brightest ‘lumos’ they could conjure simply to see.

“I’m thankful we don’t have to actually open these books,” David said in disgust as he scanned the titles. “Some of this stuff looks bloody nasty.”

“They don’t call it the ‘Restricted Section’ for nothing,” came Tulip’s response from over his shoulder. “We’re surrounded by forbidden spells, explosive potions, and dangerous secrets. I know you don’t think much of those two Slytherin girls but I doubt even they know a fraction of the dark magic inside here.”

“Kind of fitting then to have the vault of fear inside, isn’t it? Everyone fears dark magic, even some of those who practice it.”

After five minutes of scouring the shelves, David stopped, realizing that they were going about this the wrong way.

“This vault is like the one in the iced vault,” he stated to Tulip. “It’s not going to reveal itself willingly. My brother’s notebook said this book will help locate the entrance.”

“How so?”

Just then the door creaked open to reveal a massive hulking figure that only could have been Barnaby.

“Merlin, big guy. We almost hexed you,” David told him, lowering the lit tip of his wand.

“I managed to fight off Merula and Ismelda,” he announced, rubbing his shoulder a little bit. “But if I know them, they’ll be running off to Snape.”

“Then it’s now or never,” Tulip proclaimed. “David, that book has to reveal the location somehow.”

“But it’s completely blank,” he replied, drawing his hand through his dark brown hair. Then something caught his eye. “Unless…”

To his right he spotted an inky black spot on one of the shelves, indicating it was empty.

I wonder

Taking out the book, David didn’t bother to open it up. Instead, he walked forward and placed it in the empty slot, which fit like a glove. Upon doing so, three columns of shelves raised themselves into the air and out of sight to reveal a large oak and steel door, twenty feet high. And unlike the entrance to the Restricted Section, there was no lock or key slot.

“You did it, David!” Tulip exclaimed excitedly.

“I wish placing books on shelves did that more often,” Barnaby said, placing his wand in his pocket.

“Don’t put that away yet,” David warned. “We still have no idea what this vault holds. Let’s go.”

“We’re right behind you,” the eccentric Ravenclaw affirmed.

The third year Gryffindor pressed against the wood and steel and sure enough the door opened with an ominous creak. No words needed to be spoken as the trio stepped inside awaiting the wonders and horrors of the Vault of Fear. Upon doing so, they were greeted by a grisly scene. Though the overall schematics and layout of the room did not differ all that much from the ice vault, there was a key difference that was unmistakable. All around the greenish colored illuminated walls were the shadows and silhouettes of fearsome creatures: vampires, werewolves, dementors, dragons, and much more. At the center was another column which no doubt hid some kind of treasure or information inside.

It was all quite unsettling.

“Ummm did the other vault look like this?” Tulip asked, clearly perturbed.

“Yes but...no,” David responded. “It wasn’t quite so horrifying. Whatever curse is in here I don’t think it’s been broken.”

All of a sudden a cold, high whisper uttered the word, “Nox.”

The lights began to dim and this time it was Barnaby who grabbed onto his shoulder fearfully.

“I’d recognize that voice anywhere...You Know Who.”

“Maybe we should say our fears out loud,” Tulip suggested. “Maybe that’s what the vault wants us to do.”

“Come on, there’s no way You Know Who is in here,” David dismissed out of hand even as the lights continued to dim. “That tosser is dead in case anyone has forgotten.”

But as though the vault were trying to prove him wrong, the entire room went entirely black, as though the curtain of midnight drew down upon them with an evil vengeance...except this wasn’t a normal darkness it was more of an...advanced darkness. Either way, David figured even his strongest lighting charm wouldn’t do much good in here.

At first there was dead silence, save for the sound of breathing coming from the three teens. He could feel Barnaby and Tulip’s presence around him but an underlying shadow seemed to everywhere around them. As though they were being watched.

There’s nothing to fear, he thought to himself. Stay calm. Stay ready for anything

Suddenly, the room was alight with an ominous, mucus colored, green glow except the silhouettes, column, and statues were now gone. Only the haze remained and it was highly disorienting.

“What the hell is this?” Tulip asked aloud, the fear evident in her voice.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“It looks like the inside of someone’s nose,” Barnaby observed.

They had no more time to reflect on the situation as out of nowhere, a figure stepped into the greenish gloom. Only it was impossible.

“No,” David whispered.

There he was, his brother, Jacob Grant, the one he remembered. Long brown hair, leather jacket, biker pants, black boots, mid height and average build. Except this wasn’t Jacob. It couldn’t be. For one thing his eyes were scarlet red and there was a nasty, evil smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

“Fancy seeing you here, little brother,” came the evil version of Jacon in an unpleasant guttural tone.

“You’re not my brother,” David said sharply, pointing his wand just in case the fiend attacked.

“Oh but I am,” the evil Jacob replied. “I am what you have made. Mum and Dad may deny it but we all know the truth...it’s your fault I disappeared.”

“No!” David shouted, feeling his wits being overcome by the fear.

“YES!” the fiend roared. “See what you have made! See the man I have become...and who I joined!!”

Slowly but surely Jacob’s features began to transform, stretching in height, skin becoming paler, clothes morphing into simple black robes, but all with the same scarlet, red eyes.

“You Know Who,” he breathed out.

Barnaby was so frightened he was practically petrified with fright, Tulip was as white as a ghost hardly daring to move or say anything.

“I know your heart David Grant,” a cold voice spoke out. “And it is mine. Same as it was with your brother.”

Swallowing, the cursbreaker stepped forward, doing his best to keep his composure.

“You’re not real,” he said, voice trembling ever so slightly. “You Know Who is dead, killed at the hands of a bloody infant.”

But the boggart Voldemort only laughed, high and terrible.

“Fool, I am very much alive. Inside the hearts and minds of lesser men...including your precious brother. That is why he served me. And still does.”

“Jacob did not join you!” he shouted back.

It sounded more like a little boy in denial than a strong, confident young man and that’s exactly how David felt. He so desperately wanted to believe that his brother didn’t go mad and join the ranks of the Death Eaters, but the truth was he had no real idea. That was his greatest fear: that the fault for his brother’s waywardness lay with him.

“All will serve,” the boggart Voldemort spoke harshly, gesturing behind him. “Or all will die. Just as your friends will now.”

David turned and saw that Tulip and Barnaby were now being held in tight headlocks by two other carbon copies of the Dark Lord, each one with the same evil sneer, wands at their necks.

“Tulip! Barnaby!”

Struggle as they might, his two newfound friends could not break free.

“Let them go!” he demanded of the Dark Lord.

“David Grant!” Tulip interrupted through the madness. “Listen to me. You know none of this is real….he isn’t real. Remember that whatever that illusion says is fear...and only fear.”

“Enough!” Voldemort screeched. Immediately, the two clones vanished alongside their victims in a puff of smoke, leaving David alone to face his demons.

The boggart advanced on him, wand pointing directly at his heart...he knew it was a boggart after all but it may as well have been the real thing. Everything about this situation terrified him to the soul. Legs were shaking, his wand arm trembling wildly and sweat poured from the forehead. Above all, despair threatened to overwhelm what little fortitude still remained.

“The girl lies,” came the cold hiss of Voldemort. “This is no illusion. It is merely what you already know to be true. Your brother is lost and I am in control of all you hold dear in this world. Kneel before me...or die.”

David slowly began to kneel, anxiety completely overtaking him. There was no other choice...Tulip and Barnaby were gone...Dumbledore was gone...his parents were gone. It was all his fault. The black pit of guilt and fear had won.

I’m sorry Jacob

“That’s it...kneel.”

I’m not like you

“Know your failure.”

I never was

Just as he was an inch from the ground, a familiar, gentle voice whispered inside his mind.

Pip

“Jacob?” he asked aloud.

Fight it, Pip. It is already inside you. The strength to carry on. To find me. You are my little brother...always

His knees stopped just before they touched the ground and slowly he began to rise, confusing the boggart Voldemort.

“What is this? You dare defy the Dark Lord?!” the fiend screeched at him.

Eyes determined and his feet square, David aimed his wand at the fake Voldemort. He’d had just about enough of this godforsaken vault.

“You are not the Dark Lord….you are not my brother….you do not hold power over me. I do not fear you.”

“Then you will die! Avada Ked-”

“Riddikulus!” David cut him off.

Immediately the boggart Voldemort ballooned outward rapidly gaining weight until he was totally obese. Instead of a wand was a bag of crisps and a large soda. Certainly not frightening to anyone or anything.

David began laughing, as though an enormous burden was lifted off his shoulders, his body felt as if it were as light as a feather. Crying out in agony, the boggart soon disappeared in a puff of white smoke.

Then everything went black once more.

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He was still laughing when he came to.

“David? David Grant?”

The cursebreaker immediately turned around and saw Tulip and Barnaby standing there looking at him with expressions of concern.

“Was there a joke? Did I miss it?” Barnaby asked.

“No, I mean...wait what happened? You guys are okay?”

“We’re fine. But it’s better to ask you that question. You were frozen in midair like a puppet for what seemed like ages,” Tulip explained.

“Then you started laughing,” Barnaby added. “I still missed the joke.”

“The joke was the boggart trying to screw with my head,” David responded though he still felt a tad disoriented from the ordeal. “What’s the current situation?”

“I have no idea if the curse is broken or not but we need to get out of this room,” Tulip told him. “Who knows how long we’ve been in here.”

David looked around the macabre, gruesome room. He too was eager to leave this place and never look back. But he couldn’t, not yet at least.

“We still haven’t found what we came here for,” he replied.

“But we defeated the boggarts. Wasn’t that the whole point?”

“You weren’t there for the last vault,” David said, glancing towards the column in the center of the room. “There’s something inside of here and we have to open it.”

He moved forward, touched the column but nothing happened.

“It opened merely at me placing my hand on it the last time,” he said, confused.

Tulip too moved closer, leaned over and began sounding something out.

“There’s an inscription here at the bottom: To open, a wizard must make the ultimate sacrifice.”

“Does that mean you have to die in order to open it?” Barnaby asked. “Because I don’t want to do that.”

For the second time that night, realization dawned on David as he felt the broken wand inside of his pocket. The thought that came to mind was possibly crazy or ridiculous...but it also might be their ticket to what lay inside and getting out of the vault.

“Perhaps it doesn’t mean death…” he said slowly. “Maybe it means something else...like giving up magic.”

He pulled out the broken wand and showed it to his friends.

“Jacob understood. I thought his wand was broken after he was expelled, but what if he purposefully broke it himself to open this vault?”

Tulip nodded understanding there was little other choice.

“Try it.”

David did so, pressing the pieces against the column and this time it had the desired effect. With the sound of whirring wheels and gadgets the column sunk into the ground to reveal two objects inside, which he took. One of which was a map of some kind with the letter ‘R’ on the top left corner, the other looked like a busted arrowhead. Then he realized what the map was.

“I can’t believe that worked! You really are full of surprises aren’t you, David Grant,” Tulip beamed at him. “What did you find?”

David showed them.

“A map of the Forbidden Forest and a broken arrow.”

“Is that where the next vault is?” Barnaby asked with budding curiosity.

“No idea, but I say we heed our Ravenclaw friend in getting the hell out of here before Pince or someone worse comes along.”

Tulip nodded, again giving his hand a soft squeeze but this time she didn’t let go, again causing him to blush.

“I agree. We’ll work it out later. Let’s go.”

David didn’t say a word as they left the library (which was dark and showed no signs of Pince thankfully) nor when they were forced to diverge, not even when Tulip hugged him good night. He was quite tired and needed rest.

The questions resulting in this latest adventure could wait for awhile

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wizardsnwookies · 6 years

Text

POTA 111318 - Remains

The Sacred Stone monastery erupted from the earth like several petrified trees, branches hewn leaving only the strong sturdy trunks. Decorative spires thrust into sky, stabbing at the heavens with so much resentment at the vastness of it all. It sat dark and silent, windows sealed with aged wood from within leaving the courtyard lit by the pale blue light of the risen moon. All of this would have left them in awe of its splendor, if not for the scattered corpses decaying outside its doors.

Miv suddenly appeared out of the shadows as sudden as a bolt of lightning, even Elora was astounded at his ability to disappear into the darkness. She had been plying her own stealthy trade for years and she had not seen his equal. The Monks who follow the Way of the Shadow, very few were even aware of their existence. Having one in her very own party, she was starting to see how they could so easily evade detection.

“It’s quiet now, but something happened here, that much is for sure.” The gold Dragonborn motioned his head to the bodies in view just past his left shoulder. “That continues inside from what I could see.”

Everyone cast an expectant glance at Dion.

“What?”

“Is it safe to assume you wish to perform some sort of rite before moving on?” Banshae put it about as delicately as she could manage, trying to hid the impatience she felt.

“Of course, it is my duty to-”

“Is it really necessary to do this right now? We don’t know how long ago this place was attacked.”

“If it helps, the dead I saw weren’t exactly fresh.” Miv interjected, the strange blend of sweet and sour scents that was so uniquely death still lingering in his nostrils.

“...very well.” Banshae heaved a heavy sigh, her shoulders falling deep. “Flea and I will stand watch by the door. Elora and Miv keep a sharp eye out.”

Dion walked through the bodies like a macabre garden, carefully watching his step in attempts to find a path of dead flowers, never to bloom again. He knelt in the center of the battlefield and began his work, Banshae watching carefully and taking note of the bodies that surrounded him.

“Five days...”

“Excuse me?” She turned to look at Flea who was casually picking some grit out of his fingernails with the edge of his axe.

“That’s my best guess, maybe more, but no less than that. I think it’s a safe bet that we won’t find much resistance.”

Banshae nodded. This tracked with her own assessment. It seemed strange to her that with bodies as old as these appeared to be they would still remain out in the open. Unless the entirety of the Monastery had been wiped out, their comrades either dead or run off to leave them for the carrion birds.

“Strange allies.” She nodded to the crumpled form of what once was a grey skinned dwarf. “Monks, dwarves, warriors clad in stone...”

Flea silently agreed, his mind was working overtime with the evidence of the battle. Between his own experience and the wisdom of his ancestors he had learned to trace the timeline of events through the subtlest of things. Tracks in the dirt, blood splatter, the trajectory of arrows and bolts. Ghostly figures reenacted a ballet of death before his very eyes, starting here, outside in the darkness before moving up the stone steps behind him and inside the shuttered temple.

“Sloppy, whoever they were.” Great Grandfather Oorg shook his withered head disapprovingly. “Such a disgrace. Had they no form at all or were they merely swinging away in hopes to hit something other than themselves?”

“Got the job done.” Flea shrugged. Banshae cast him a puzzled look that he waved away quickly, turning to stick his head inside the threshold.

“Speaking of which, you about done there priest? There’s a lot more to see here than their unkempt garden.”

“Yes, yes.” Dion stood, tucking away his vial of holy water. “We can continue now.”

---

A path of death swept its way through the structure. Every hall, nearly every room was marked with signs of battle. Bodies littered the floor, chips and scars carved out of the walls from stray steel. It told the story of a crude invasion and the desperate attempts at defense. One by one rooms were cleared as they pushed further and further indoors. With each step the story unfolded further beyond the fighting, a story of an entire monastery of monks taken over by a strange fanatical cult of stone and earth.

“What about the ghouls?” Dion thought aloud, standing to the side while Elora worked the next sealed door with nimble fingers.

“Come again?” Miv crooked an eye.

“The ghouls we came across on our way to Summit Hill. Logic would dictate that this be the place of their origins.”

“Stormbanner said the hills were filled with caves and ruins. Could just be a coincidence.” The monk shrugged.

“Perhaps.” Dion seemed unconvinced. He was about to press further when Elora erupted in a silenced cry of triumph. Crafted of old, mostly rotting wood and iron banding, the door groaned like the very undead of which they were speaking, opening up into a frigid room choked with dust and cobwebs.

Beneath the years of filth, evidence of a laboratory were unmistakable. Forests of empty flutes and flasks covered an old table in a neat row. To one side a shelf sat mostly empty save for a handful of yet more glassware, only these were each filled with opaque, colored liquid. Books, scrolls, and scraps of parchment littered every flat surface, the ink faded by age, so much so efforts had been made to restore portions lost to time. The more recent ink being markedly brighter and fresh, yet the hand, oddly enough remained the same.

“Looks like we found our Necromancer.”

“Yes, yes I believe you are right.” Dion paused only long enough to mutter a detection spell. He waited for the magical veil to fall before his eyes and proceeded into the room. Magic was evident, that much was sure. Nearly the entire room had some trace of it. It was a small bundle within the folds of a tattered blanket in the bed chambers that provided the strongest glow of power.

Carefully, the priest uncovered a small amulet from within the linens. It wasn’t until he was sure that no curse lay within it did he take it within his fingers. It was quite the opposite in fact, a vessel for health used to bolster its owners constitution. Normally he was not one to indulge in the sin of theft, but something told him they might need this later.

“Damn.” Steel skittered on the stone floor, Elora’s lock picking tools dropping from her slender fingers. She knelt before another door to the north of the main laboratory. “This one’s being stubborn.”

“Stand aside.” Flea gently pushed the elf away with a massive paw, sizing up the seized portal. “I’ll handle this.”

The rest of the part took more than a few steps back, bracing themselves for a shower of splinters. The massive half-orc centered himself before the door, taking one last look at it as a whole before offering a single nod as if to say, ‘yeah, I got this.’

The room remained silent, however. No crashes, no shattering, not dull thuds of dense wood colliding with the stone floor. Only a soft click followed by a mournful groan as the heavy door slowly swung away. Flea turned and offered a pleased grin, in his fingers, his own set of lock picks.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?” Elora chuckled, only slightly annoyed that his secret talent trumping her well-honed craft.

“I’m not just a pretty face, that’s for sure.”

---

Plunging down the cold stone steps felt like a gradual descent into winter. The air became even more frigid than the workroom they left, their breath billowing from their mouths as if they were all descendant of dragons instead of merely the two. The stench of death crept upwards towards them, greeting them with stale, musty air of hundreds of years of slumber undisturbed. It was then no surprise when the landing at the bottom of the stairs opened up into a large tomb.

Simple stone sarcophagus lined the northern and southern walls, spiders dressing them in fine lines of silk that glittered in the light of Miv’s driftglobe. Against the wall in which they came, next to the arched portal, a far more elegant and well cared for tomb sat. The skill with which it was chiseled was immaculate, covering its every surface with intricate designs and flourishes. All of which paled to the near life-like depiction of an aged knight hewn from the lid. If not for his monochrome appearance, even Dion would have mistaken it for the living. But he was drawn to something else, something that puzzled him greatly.

“Samular Paradoon...”

“What?” Banshae turned.

“He was one of the legendary brothers, founder of Summit Hall and the Knights of Samular.”

“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be-”

“Yes, I saw his grave myself. This should not be at all.”

“Well, enough jawing. Let’s open her up and just see for ourselves.” Before anyone could object, Flea hoisted himself upon the dias and heaved with his mighty arms. Even with all his strength behind it, the stone slab gave but little. Stone grinding upon stone, a breath of trapped air escaped the seal and the contents came into view.

Empty.

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