The Lewis House 51 страница

It rose from the sea, striking against the soft, grassy cliffs of the beach. It was smaller than Hogwarts and had none of that castle's clean, majestic beauty. Culparrat was impressive in the way that merpeople were impressive - powerfully built, slicked with algae, not as beautiful as it should have been and twice as imposing as it had the right to be. It looked as if it had once been white, but Penelope knew that it had been underwater for centuries and it was water-stained now; green and black streaks marred the white stone and made it appear as an enormous, rotting tooth set in gums of black water, which swirled and licked at its barnacled base. An endless, eerie moan issued from its gaping windows and echoed against the hills that sheltered the cove.

"Are there really merghosts in there?" she whispered, not sure why she was suddenly so nervous. This sort of thing had never been her forte. She would have liked to hold Percy's hand, to go in there - he never got scared of things like that.

"Sure," said Moody matter-of-factly. "We keep having to expel them. The dungeon floods, and the merghosts… well, they think it's a sort of joke, taking Stunned prisoners and setting them face down in the water. Turning them back over before they drown is mostly all there is for the trainees to do."

"Trainees?"

"Aurors in training. Not a bad lot, very eager, but - well."

"What?"

Moody scratched his head and appeared to be looking for a gentle way to put it. "Not the snappiest cards in the deck, are they?"

But it made Penelope feel better to know that there would be more people in that mad-looking castle than just herself and Moody. When they had made their way up the beach and across the water to its entrance, she was glad for the sight of young people in their official robes, guarding the castle doors and flanking the entrance hall.

"Elizabeth!" Penelope reached out her arms on instinct to hug a pretty Ravenclaw who had been three years her junior, and who now stood between her and the interior entrance doors.

Elizabeth did not smile or reach out; instead she pulled her wand in a flash and had disarmed Penelope within half a second. "Name?" she demanded. "Business?"

Penelope nearly fell back with surprise. She steadied herself. "Er… it's Penny, El. Don't you remember?"

Moody chuckled, just behind her. "She's doing her job. You could be disguised." He pointed to the wand. "It's fine, Miss Duzen. Good work, but we'll take that back now - she's with me. We'll go ahead through."

Elizabeth nodded curtly and handed Penelope her wand. She then muttered a password to the stone shark's head, which was mounted on the left side of the doors, and the doors swung open.

"Not the snappiest, are they?" Penelope whispered to Moody.

"Oh, there's one or two that make me proud. She'll pass her exam well before the rest of these duffers, I'll tell you that."

Penelope glanced over her shoulder to see that the doors were falling shut. Just before they did, Elizabeth peeked through the opening with a cheeky grin on her face and whispered, "Hi, Penny! Your hair looks great!"

The doors slammed. Moody made a sound of disgust that echoed in the wide, dark corridor. "Then again, I've been wrong. This way."

Penelope followed close, terrified of losing her guide. The walls were green-stained white marble, carved with strange fish and fanged octopi, and every bulging eye of every creature seemed to follow them as they walked.

"Well done finding the creepiest possible place," she muttered, and picked her way around a puddle. "Is that… seaweed on the ceiling?"

"You didn't see it hanging all over the turrets? We clean it out but it just comes back. Seems to be this place's equivalent of cobwebs. Prisoners're down here - now hang on."

Moody grabbed a torch from the wall and lit it, then led Penelope to the right, into a dank and narrow corridor that stunk of fish and spiraled down into the belly of the castle, pressing closer and darker with every step. She had the feeling that if she were to touch the walls, her fingers would come away covered with grime, and she decided not to test her theory. The narrow corridor emptied into a vast, flickering room where the marble had gone black all over, and the water was a foot deep. Penelope gasped at what she saw.

Hundreds upon hundreds of criminals - and innocents, she knew that some of them had to be - were here. Lying in rows, in cots too close together, not knowing how they invaded one another's personal space.

"Keeping 'em all in one spot until we can do something more effective," Moody growled. "Don't need to be running about trying to Stun them all in their own time. Easier to keep track this way. And then, when they're sorted and we've got a solid imprisonment charm, we'll shake 'em all out and make things more comfortable. After all -" Moody laughed darkly, "- some of them'll be here till they die."

Till they die. Penelope felt a rush of pity, followed very closely by one of terrific fury. She looked around the room at the silent men and women and wondered which of them had looked on as Percy had been tortured and killed.

It was too horrible a thought; her mind tried to repel it but Penelope stood still, staring at blank faces, as ice cold water seeped through her stockings. The frozen sea was getting into her shoes. It numbed her feet, but she could not move. Suddenly she found her voice.

"The most potent spells, on an Arithmantic scale, are all emotion-based," she heard herself say faintly. "We researched every major spell, and the thirty most powerful are variations on the same theme - each one operates on a highly personal level. No matter how the spell is crafted, no matter what words are chosen, or what quality of witch does the casting, no major spell can act without personal motivation on the part of an individual, or the collective emotional investment of a willing group. Expecto Patronum. Avada Kedavra. Amora Primus -- and now Expecto Sacrificum. All the same basic requirement. The only one we found that doesn't work that way is Priori Incantatem; that's purely element based."

Moody watched her, eyebrows lifted, mad eye shivering in its socket and seeming to focus right through her brain. "Go on."

"What I want to try to do is amalgamate existing imprisonment and locking spells, then infuse them with the appropriate emotional complexity, in order to create the most powerful spell possible. Based on my notes, I think I know which spells I need, but I haven't been able to commingle them - they won't work as one spell. Not yet. There's something missing, something… I can't tell. I'll get that, I know it, it's right on the tip of my tongue. I just have to think." Penelope drew a deep breath; this was more talking than she'd done in an age and more emotion than she'd felt towards anything other than Leo since Percy's death. "But the feeling of it - that's going to take the most work, and I'll tell you, I really am looking forward to having Hermione Granger back."

Moody grinned. "From the Thinker. Yes, she'll be an asset."

"I think that between the two of us…" Penelope faltered slightly at the thought of bouncing her ideas off of anyone but Percy, but she recovered herself and continued. "Arthur wants to hire her on to help me, and if she says yes, then we'll make quick work of this thing."

"I'm glad to hear it." Moody's expression was unreadable. He searched her face for a moment and then: "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he shouted, making Penelope shriek with surprise.

Across the chamber, two Aurors in training, who had been sleeping in chairs with their heads in their hands, leapt to their feet and sent twin looks of terror across the room. "Sorry!" they called in unison, and went sloshing back to their posts.

Moody growled and turned away. "Sorry," he spat, leading the way out of the prisoners' terrible waiting room. "Sorry? I'll tell you when they'll be sorry. When they're facing down the wrong end of a wand, that's when. And where'll their sorries get them at that moment? Six feet under, that's where."

Moody's wasted reprimands reverberated from the damp walls until they were out in the main corridor, and Penelope found that she had to repress a snicker. He was a funny old man, when he was annoyed. She wondered if he knew that, and thought it better not to ask.

"Thank you for the tour," said Penelope, holding out her hand to Moody, who looked surprised, but pleased. It had been the right decision, coming here. Her mind was much clearer, and she wanted nothing more now than to get back home and start working. She had to get everything in order for Hermione’s return. She didn’t want to waste any more time, and silently cursed herself for being so slack up until now.

"I’ll walk you out," said Moody, offering his arm. Penelope was just about to take it, when someone called out from behind her.

"Penny! What are you doing here?" said a familiar voice.

"Where's Leo?" said another, and Penelope turned to see Cho Chang and Charlie standing just inside the entrance hall.

"How’d you get in here?" Moody growled, drawing his wand.

"He's with your mum," Penelope said, noticing with concern that both Cho’s and Charlie’s clothes were soaked. Cho shivered, and Charlie removed his cloak and made a motion to put it around her shoulders, despite her murmur of protest. "You’re wet, too," she said, and before he could say anything, Cho grabbed one end and threw it over both their shoulders.

"Answer my question or I’ll blast you both to the other side of the country." Moody took a step closer and fixed his real eye on the pair. The other appeared to be trying to focus on the newspaper in Charlie's hand.

"Please, sir." One of the Aurors-in-training, a mousy-haired man around Penelope’s age, stepped into view from the doorway. Penelope could see Elizabeth behind him, peeking through a slit in the doorway. "Their identification is positive and they’re not on the restricted list."

"They’re not approved either!" exclaimed Moody, and flicked his wand in the man’s direction. Elizabeth’s face disappeared from the crack in the door, just in time to miss a jet of red sparks, which narrowly missed the young Auror’s head, although Penelope could smell a faint tinge of burnt hair in the air.

Penelope had to give the man, whom she now recognized as a Hufflepuff three years her senior, credit. He didn’t run, but remained standing in front of them. "Please, sir," he repeated, "They’re on the map." He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Moody. Penelope could have sworn she saw a grin pass across the old Auror’s face, but all he said was, "Hmph," and then, "Dismissed," and the Auror went back outside, but not before drawing his wand and muttering some sort of password.

"Black’s idea," said Moody, examining the parchment, on which, Penelope could see some sort of floor plan. "We’re still testing it, but it seems to work. If you know the password, you can use this map to see who’s in every room in this castle. Unfortunately, it doesn’t enable us to track people down if they should happen to escape. Still, it sees through Invisibility Cloaks and Polyjuice Potion, and, according to the map, you two are who you say you are."

Moody’s eye wobbled in its socket to rest once again on the copy of the Daily Prophet in Charlie’s hand. "So, you’re here," he grunted. "Is there a good reason? You both look a mess."

"Everyone's okay," said Charlie, "despite what this so-called journalist claims. I don't know how he got past the barriers to make any sort of a report, but there is some truth to what he says."

Charlie handed the newspaper to Moody, who unfolded it to the front page. A flash of light caught Penelope's eye and she leaned in to see that the photograph that covered most of the front page was a rare color one and it appeared to be of a large jet of fire from a dragon. The flame was so powerful that it managed to break through its photograph border and light up the words in the headline above.

QUIDDITCH CHAMPION VIKTOR KRUM NARROWLY ESCAPES DEATH: Has the Ministry of Magic gone too far?

Story by: N. Flummery

Photo by: Crispin R. Peltier

Penelope smirked. It was the same photographer who’d taken the pictures of Harry and Ginny for Charmed Life.

"Go ahead," said Charlie, "read it out loud. I want to make sure that the text hasn’t already changed. I’ve never seen the Prophet get out news in such a timely manner."

Moody cleared his voice to read, but ended up coughing instead. Penelope took the paper from him, and began,

Early this morning, at 4:12 a.m., an incident of grave danger occurred at Azkaban. It seems that the dragons in use by the Permanent Azkaban Patrol to control rogue Dementors at the former prison may not be as effective as originally claimed. Many expressed doubt when Acting Minister of Magic Arthur Weasley employed a team of dragon riders led by none other than his own son Chad and family friend, Michelle O’Malley.

"He let his own children run wild – they couldn’t keep gnomes out of their garden, how do they expect to keep Dementors in Azkaban?" reported a neighbor of the Weasleys who asked not to be identified.

"I know who that is," said Charlie. "We don’t have any close wizarding neighbors. That’s my friend Dave’s mum. Hit her in the head with a gnome once when he was over during the summer holiday. She never forgave me." Cho patted Charlie’s arm sympathetically, and Penny continued reading.

Evidence that the dragon scheme was not working according to plan apparently came just before Halloween, when a group of Dementors rushed towards a dragon ridden by none other than Harry Potter. The other riders eventually pushed the Dementors away, and the incident was kept quiet. The official report states that Potter’s dragon, Norbert, was suffering from a minor head cold.

"That true?" Moody asked. "Do you really think it was a cold?"

"Yes," said Charlie. "Mick looked him over and he’s been fine ever since. I never heard of a dragon cold that lasted only one day, but then, this is the first time we’ve ever put dragons in this particular situation, so who knows what could happen? Go on, Penny – you haven’t come to the good bits yet."

It must have been something more dramatic than a cold that caused Bevan, Krum’s Welsh Green, to act up early this morning. The three nightshift riders, Chad Weasley, Chong Chung, and World Champion Viktor Krum had already been on duty for six hours when Krum’s dragon started to act as one might expect an enormous Class XXXXX creature to act. Several keepers noticed that Krum, who was flying on the side of the castle closest to the dragon hangars, seemed to be having trouble controlling the beast.

The dragon began to breathe large plumes of fire, something the animals are supposedly trained not to do at Azkaban. Weasley, who was able to see what was happening, flew towards Krum on his dragon, and several keepers also approached Krum on broomsticks. Chung managed to control the Dementors on the far side of the island alone. Even Dementors, it seems, like to sleep at 3am.

"Where the hell were the Aurors?" boomed Moody. "They’re supposed to be there to help in case something like this happens."

"They were there," said Cho. "Don’t worry. They helped. He just didn’t mention it. But it is true that the Dementors pretty much stayed inside the whole time. The Aurors didn’t have to use a Patronus at all."

Several keepers tried to get close enough to help Krum climb off of the dragon, but the dragon began to fly up and down in an erratic fashion, blowing fire so hot that it was impossible to get close. One of the reserve flyers had been contacted by this time, an experienced war flyer named Lisa Morgan, and she flew to the scene with a dragon, intent on trying to control Bevan.

Both Weasley and Morgan were unsuccessful, and Krum climbed out of his harness and made a move for his broom, once it became clear that he must either evacuate or die by fire. It was only when Draco Malfoy, a rider on the morning shift, arrived early for work that the situation took a turn for the better. Malfoy’s Chinese Fireball, Mordor, seemed able to succeed where the Welsh Greens had failed. He managed to control Bevan enough to lead him to land, although not before the dragon bucked once and sent Krum plummeting towards the depths of the sea below.

Krum, who is a World Champion Quidditch player, was unable to grab his broom in time. He most certainly would have died, had Malfoy not uttered a well-formed Levitation Charm at the last minute. Weasley was able to pick up Krum on his dragon, and they both flew to safety.

Shaken, but unharmed physically (except for the loss of his eyebrows), Krum claims that he is well enough to fly his next shift, which begins this evening at 8pm. It’s a good thing. We’re not sure who else would be crazy enough to take the job. If Arthur Weasley would like to retain his position as Minister when the Reconstruction officially ends next June, then he might want to reevaluate his decision to keep things in the family.

"Oh Charlie! Cho!" Penelope handed the Daily Prophet back to Moody and rushed forward to hug them both. Realizing that they were still damp, and Cho was shivering despite the heavy cloak, Penelope pulled her wand and sent a drying charm in their direction.

"Thanks!" said Cho, laughing. "I can’t believe we didn’t think of that."

"You’re tired," said Penelope. "Moody, is there anywhere in here to sit down, and perhaps to get a cup of tea?"

Moody led them back down the hall to the Auror’s lounge, which was sparsely furnished, but by far the most livable room they had yet entered. He sent three young trainees running and motioned to Penelope, Charlie and Cho to sit in the vacated chairs, while he perched himself against a table, using his cane for support. Before sitting, Penelope searched the room for a teapot and teacups, and quickly whipped up a few cups of tea for them.

"How’s Krum’s dragon now?" asked Moody, finishing his tea in one gulp. Cho cradled hers between her hands, still trying to warm up, and Charlie threw the cloak over her shoulders once more.

Charlie shrugged. "He seems fine. Mick checked him out before he started his shift, and Bevan is acting like nothing happened. He ate all his food, drank all his water, and as far as I know, is taking a nap."

"And you’ve no idea what might have caused him to act that way?"

"None. He seems a bit more tired than usual, but other than that, everything checked out normal."

"You don’t think the Dementors are affecting them somehow, do you?"

This time, Cho shook her head and spoke up. "The Dementors seem to have been growing more passive over the past few weeks. They’ve been staying near or inside the castle, except for the time they rushed at Harry. There weren’t even any Dementors near Viktor last night. We’d only seen two the entire shift, and they were on my side of Azkaban."

Moody didn’t look like this information made him any happier. "Do you think they could be plotting anything? Planning any sort of grand takeover?"

"That would be unprecedented," said Penelope. "I’ve done a lot of research on the Dementors. Percy and I studied them early on when Fudge was trying to find a way to control them. Although they work together as a group, they tend to go where they’re told. They’ve never started anything before, although I don’t know if they’ve ever been this hungry before. They were never even heard of until about eight-hundred years ago, when a Turkish wizard named Hunderbab united them to help his Muggle soldiers in war. Before that, there’s no account, and many suspect that this Hunderbab actually created them, using some sort of mutation potion combining Muggle corpses and the Lethifold. There’s some inconsistency in that theory, since the first written account of the Lethifold isn’t until about two hundred years ago, but it’s highly likely that they or similar creatures existed before then."

No one said anything for a moment.

"We need to monitor Azkaban more closely, just in case," said Moody. "I can assign some of these young Aurors to the task – they could use a long, boring job to teach them a little endurance."

"I don’t know how much more we can patrol," said Charlie, sounding defensive. "We’ve got twenty-four hour supervision of the perimeter – three dragons, three riders, and a host of keepers and Aurors at any given time."

Moody banged his cane on the floor. "Stop your whinging, boy. I know you’ve had a long night. I’m talking about monitoring inside Azkaban. We need a way to figure out what they’re doing when we can’t see them."

"We can’t go in there!" objected Charlie. "You saw it yourself when you pulled the last prisoners out. The place is falling apart. Besides, if any human tried to waltz in there and have a look around now, they’d be spit right back out again without a soul. Those Dementors are starving."

Moody ignored Charlie. "We need to see if they’re plotting anything. Are they sleeping? Are they agitated? Are they communicating at all? Have they started Kissing each other? Maybe Black can work on a map of Azkaban like the one he made for us at Culparrat… though it would be a strain on him."

Charlie threw up his hands in annoyance and Penelope shook her head. "I don’t think it’s a good idea to give Sirius an excuse to go to Azkaban. He’s obsessed with the idea of getting rid of the Dementors. We spoke quite a bit at Halloween, and… well – " Penelope searched for a tactful way to state her feelings "- he was very… intense."

Chuckling, Moody nodded his head in agreement. "True that," he said. "Do you have a better idea, Miss Chung?"

Charlie snorted and Cho elbowed him in the ribs. "Oi!" said Charlie. "Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It is funny."

At the mention of the word ‘knickers’, Penelope caught Cho’s eye, and both of them smiled, apparently coming to the same realization at once.

"Do you think it would work?" asked Cho.

"I don’t know," said Penelope. "We’d have to give it a bit more power, but it might."

"Maybe it only works in locker rooms and toilets," said Cho. "I never thought of trying it anywhere else, especially not outside Hogwarts."

"Don’t forget about dormitories," said Penelope, and both girls erupted into laughter.

The two men looked at each other in confusion. Penelope sighed. "I’m about to divulge a great Ravenclaw secret to both of you Gryffindor men. I only do this in the name of wizarding security."

"You must both promise, no, swear not to leak the intricate nature of this charm to anyone," said Cho, her voice solemn.

"Great things have come from Ravenclaw," said Moody. "I promise."

"Well," began Penelope, standing. "I think it might just be better to give a demonstration. Give us a second." She motioned to Cho to join her in the corner, and the two girls devised their plan. Penelope closed her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could on a room she had never seen before in the Culparrat castle – the basement dungeons, where the merghosts lived. When she had formed an image of what she thought it looked like, she opened her eyes and nodded at Cho, who drew her wand and loudly spoke the words to the charm. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, an image appeared on the opposite wall, blurry at first, but growing clearer every second.

It was a darkened room – the seaweed on the ceiling was much thicker and darker than that on the upper levels. The water was very deep and there was only a thin band of dryness that ran around the top of the walls. Pale, silvery figures floated through the columns that supported the dungeon ceiling, sometimes passing right through each other.

"That’s the dungeon…" said Moody, the awe in his voice evident. "But how – "

The image faded, and then disappeared.

"Sorry," said Penelope. "I’m a bit out of practice. Haven’t had the urge to spy on anyone lately. Although come to think of it, this charm might be useful for when Leo gets a bit older."

"What do you mean, spy?" asked Charlie.

Cho took a deep breath and said, "I guess our reputations will be ruined. This is an old spell that’s handed down to each female Ravenclaw class. I don’t know when it started, but if you’re in Ravenclaw, then you know how to do it. It takes a while to learn."

Penelope continued, "It’s a Peeping Charm, at least, that’s what we called it. The brilliant thing is that you don’t have to be anywhere near the target – you could spy on someone in Gryffindor Tower from the Forbidden Forest if you wanted – and you don’t have to ever have seen the place you’re spying on. You just have to know where it is and imagine it."

"How is that possible?" asked Charlie, looking a bit red. "Wouldn’t you have to charm the room as well?"

He had a right to be nervous, thought Penelope, wondering how many Ravenclaw girls who were at Hogwarts with her brother-in-law had spied him in the Quidditch locker room. She herself had managed to catch Percy in the Prefect’s Bathroom one evening – reading in the tub – and she knew that Cho had used the charm under the pretense of trying to figure out Hufflepuff’s Quidditch plans, and had seemed disappointed when all that had happened had been that she’d actually seen the diagrams and not their star Seeker.

Shaking her head, Penelope explained. "That’s the brilliance of it. You don’t have to have seen the room. You just have to know where it is. It’s like your mind finds it, and is able to place the charm from afar. The only problem is that we’ve only ever used it for short periods of time. You can see," she pointed to the blank wall, "the image disappears after a few seconds."

Cho’s eyes were bright with determination. "I’m sure we could figure it out," she said. "We could set up a permanent monitoring station and it doesn’t have to be at Azkaban. It can be here, or at the Ministry, or anywhere!"

"We’ve got floor plans of Azkaban," said Moody. "You think we could fix that charm so that it would continuously rotate through all of them? And stop in one place if we needed it to?"

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04