Chapters 141-150

The Soul of a Dead Wizard

‘What in Circe’s name is that?’ Draco complained when a huge stack of parchments deposited itself on his desk.

Umbridge’s secretary, a vapid witch with dyed blond curls called Janice followed the papers into Draco’s office. Now she looked at him with an uncertain expression on her face.

‘I’m not really sure, sir,’ Janice admitted and flashed him a toothy smile. Her perfume was too sweet, heavy with Jarvey musk. Draco wondered how strong the concentration of musk had to be for Janice to start blathering insults. Though that just might raise the average semantic content of her comments to the level of a talking weasel, Draco mused uncharitably.

Janice inched a bit closer, fluttered eyelashes cloyed with mascara, and lowered her voice. ‘It’s those Muggles, sir. That delegation that Mrs Umbridge is supposed to meet on Thursday.’ She bent down in an attempt to display her cleavage to her best advantage. Her breasts were pear-shaped and plump, just like the rest of her. If she weren’t as dumb as a doornail and always dressed in pink, Draco might have been tempted. As it was, he merely tried to hold his breath long enough to escape the choking cloud of her expensive perfume. ‘I don’t know about you,’ she whispered. ‘But I think that Muggles in robes are plain creepy.’

A knock at the door frame made her draw back, and Draco immediately breathed easier.

‘Malfoy.’

‘Weasley.’

‘Uhh…I’ll go then, Mr Malfoy. See you tomorrow. Good evening, Mr Weasley.’ Janice hurried away.

‘Why’s she so scared of you?’ Draco asked. ‘You’re just a—’

‘A stickler for the rules?’ Percy raised an eyebrow and let his hands drift over imaginary curves.

‘She did?’

‘Trust me, Draco, you don’t want to touch her.’

‘I didn’t to start with. Thanks for the warning all the same. I’m very content with the arrangement that Hannah and I have.—But … Percy, can you tell me anything about this mess?’ He indicated the heap of parchment on his desk.

‘As a matter of fact, I can,’ Percy said. He leant back against the door frame and crossed his arms in front of his chest, mimicking Snape’s best lecturing stance. ’It’s a delegation from the Catholic Church—the main Muggle Church. Shacklebolt delegated the duty of dealing with them to your boss. With the best intentions, I’m sure. As all of us know how much she enjoys dealing with Muggles.’

‘So what do they want?’

Percy shrugged. ‘Some kind of good-will event. About a series of popular Muggle books that feature a boy who grows up to be a wizard and a hero. They seem to think that if they show themselves with witches and wizards in public, they’ll win over parts of the mixed-blood community.’

Draco smirked. ‘Umbridge’s going to love that.’ After a pause, he went on, ‘Are you ready for tomorrow?’

6 December 2000 was the day of the Ministry’s annual chess competition. And Percy Weasley would play against Dolores Umbridge. Percy stiffened. His expression—if that was at all possible—turned even stuffier. Or expressionless. Draco frowned. Something about Percy reminded him uncannily of his former Head of House, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

‘Yes,’ Percy said. ‘You should be good to go for at least one hour. Actually, I think Ron would skin me alive if I didn’t last that long.’

‘Great.’

oooOooo

Hermione was completely focused on Madame Dubois. The French witch stood bent over the desk, the manuscript resting between her palms. The edge of her shimmering Demiguise scarf brushed the yellowed pages.

So Dumbledore’s and Severus’ assumptions were not correct? Necromancers could pass beyond the Veil and return?

But why would they do that just to immobilize a portrait?

‘Why would anyone do that just to paralyse a painting?’ she asked.

Claire Dubois looked up and stepped away from the manuscript. ‘No one would do that,’ she said with absolute certainty. ‘It’s much too dangerous.’

‘Then why would anyone pass beyond the Veil to…do whatever they did to the soul of Albus Dumbledore?’

Madame Dubois frowned suddenly. ‘Is there anything you’re not telling me, Mrs Snape?’

Instinctively, Hermione looked first at Severus, then at Minerva. The headmistress nodded to her. Her husband scowled darkly. Hermione inhaled deeply, shrugged out of her robe and rolled up her left sleeve. Madame Dubois raised her eyebrows and took a step towards Hermione. ‘May I?’ she asked politely, extending her hand towards Hermione’s arm.

Hermione nodded. ‘Sure.’

The woman’s fingers were gentle, careful. Nevertheless the delicate touch caused Hermione’s skin to ripple with goose bumps.

‘The spell you want,’ Severus said smoothly, ‘is “Vim Magicam Revelio”.’

oooOooo

Dubois forked her fingers through her hair until it stood on end very much like Madam Hooch’s preferred hair-style. ‘Why would anyone want to tamper with the soul of someone who has passed beyond the Veil?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know! I can think of a number of reasons. Revenge. As long as the soul is near the Veil, you can probably still cause it pain. Or…’ She toyed with the end of her scarf. ‘It might be due to an entirely different spell altogether.’

‘What kind of spell?’ Severus asked softly.

Madame Dubois stared at Snape for several seconds without a word. Then she shook her head wearily. ‘I just don’t know! We have almost no evidence for Necromancers venturing beyond the Veil and back to begin with. The legend of the Deathly Hallows is pretty much all I’ve got to work with.’ She sighed. ‘But if you’d ask me to make a … well, it is quite a daring leap of intuition … But after all I’ve read about what Nicloas Flamel wrote about Horcruxes…hmm…Let’s just say: if I wanted a really safe location for something like a Horcrux…or immense amounts of magical power…I just might think of the soul of a dead wizard.’