Peculiar Proceedings
Chapter 13
It was, without a doubt, the most exciting Christmas Angelina had ever had.
She sighed in contentment as she riffled through the top drawer of her dresser. It was in there somewhere, she remembered placing it there when she had helped Twinkle unpack her trunk on her first day back from Hogwarts. Having emptied her drawer of all its socks, she tapped the bottom of the drawer with her wand tip and whispered the password. Silently, the false bottom of the drawer melted away to reveal the hidden compartment beneath. There was nothing of real secrecy there, just a couple of trinkets and souvenirs: a small book with a collection of stories from Prague, a leaf from a manuscript that detailed the beauty secrets of Cleopatra, a silk scarf that disappeared when worn and reappeared when taken off, a gold coin from Romania, a miniature of the Eiffel tower, and a few other odds and ends.
She picked up a set of Tarot cards from beneath a postcard of the Parthenon that her mother had sent her from one of her many trips. Angelina spread the Tarot cards out on her bed and searched though them until she found the card that did not belong. It was not a Tarot card like the rest of the deck, but a Chocolate Frog Card. The card was of Alberic Grunnion, the one she had stolen from her brother on her first trip to Hogwarts. At the time she had decided to sell it, but she now had a better use for the card: she had a friend to send it to. Angelina beamed as she glanced over her shoulder at the handsome leather bound book laying on her nightstand. It was a collector’s item; there were only 100 copies in existence, and it contained the secrets of many of the greatest magical achievements in history. One hundred pages of the book were dedicated to invisibility.
“It’s to make up for the Saturday I took you out sledding instead of allowing you to research invisibility. I’m sure you’ll be able to find all you need to know on the subject and more in this book,” Emma had explained when Angelina had, with slightly trembling hands, removed the wrapping.
Angelina’s gush of gratitude had been cut short however, as at that moment the fireplace had filled with green flame and several adults stepped out into the Floo Room.
“Well, do you bring any news from abroad?” a voice had boomed almost before the group had even entered.
Emma, who had been about to move from behind the rack of coats, stopped, and glanced at Angelina. The two exchanged looks, silently agreeing to stay and hear this “news from abroad.” Angelina had long since learned that one often discovered a great deal more from listening to adults than asking them anything.
“Be patient,” came a second voice. “We must be careful of prying ears. Not all approve of our goals.”
“The idiots,” a third voice hissed in derision.
“I agree,” the second voice said, after casting a Silencing Charm around the room, but not bothering with anything else (as it was the house of a fellow sympathizer after all). Luckily for Angelina and Emma this meant they could still eavesdrop. “But we cannot be too careful. Our Lord says that we are not yet to reveal our full force.”
“Why does he wait?” the first voice asked, sounding frustrated. “We should strike now. The time has come. I am sick of waiting and creeping around as if I were doing something wrong. It is“”
“Do you doubt the Dark Lord?” the third voice cried in outrage. “He who is the most powerful of all wizards, greater and more powerful than you could ever be. He who has attained things you could not even dream of!”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that, Bellatrix,” the first voice whined, cowering in fear. “I am our Lord’s faithful servant. I only meant that . . . I was simply saying . . . It’s just . . .”
“You are an idiot, Rosier, to question Lord Voldemort, the only man to ever conqueror death,” Bellatrix spat derisively, venom in her voice.
“So it’s true,” the second voice whispered. “He has truly conquered death? He has gained immortality?”
“Yes,” Bellatrix answered. “The Dark Lord has not been idle while he has been away.”
“But now that he has gained immortality, will he return? Will he lead us to victory? It is time that the balance was restored,” the second stated his voice growing passionate.
The owner of the first voice, Avery, cleared his throat as if to speak, but Bellatrix cut in.
“The Dark Lord has sent me back to build up his force in England. We need more Death Eaters before we can act. There are many who sympathize with our cause“we must recruit them. Many of them are at this very party; tonight will be a perfect opportunity.”
“We should go,” the second voice commented. “We are already late for the party.”
“Yes, and be sure to tell your friends,” Bellatrix reminded as they stepped towards the door. “The Death Eaters will rule when the Dark Lord rises to power.”
And with that the group dismissed their protective barriers and went to join the party, leaving a shocked Angelina and Emma crouched behind a large bookshelf.
Angelina rose, moving over to the pair of leather chairs clustered in a corner of the Floo Room and partially obscured by a temporary row of coat racks, her arms clutching the large leather book to her chest as a young child might hold a beloved teddy bear for comfort. Emma followed, collapsing into the chair next to Angelina. They sat in silence for a little while digesting what they had just heard.
“Whoever this bloke is, he’s hardly original. I mean ‘the Dark Lord,’ how clichéd is that?” Angelina said flippantly, breaking the silence. “Who goes around calling himself the Dark Lord?”
“Well, he did conquer death,” Emma pointed out.
“Did he? I wonder . . .” Angelina whispered pensively, more to herself than anyone else. “It could be more of a rallying point than actual fact. It’s been a common enough ploy throughout history because who’s going to oppose someone who can’t be killed? But no one’s ever really done it. Conquer death, that is. Immortality is impossible. Death is just part of life, and really who would want to go on living forever? Postponement is possible, but even Ignotus Peverell didn’t live forever.”
“Ignotus Peverell?”
“Oh, he’s just a mythical man who outsmarted Death. He asked Death for a cloak of invisibility so that even Death could not find him.”
“Does such a thing exist?” Emma questioned, intrigued.
“There’s no evidence of it.”
“Well, what about the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“If you mean have people succeeded in making it, then yes. But only a very few. And even if this ‘Dark Lord’ has one, it doesn’t make him immortal. It simply postpones death while the person drinks it, and it doesn’t protect against the Killing Curse. But I suppose if one uses the word ‘immortal’ loosely . . .” Angelina trailed of lost in her own musings on the qualifications of “immortality.”
“Well, what else could it be?” Emma asked, recalling Angelina to the present.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, frowning. “But it’s hardly the main point of the matter anyway. It’s clear these ‘Death Eaters,’ or whatever absurd name they’re calling themselves by, believe that he is. I mean, to listen to Bellatrix, you would think this Lord Moldywart had learnt to walk on water or something.”
“Like conquer death?” Emma quipped.
“Anyway, they’re planning something. I think they’re going to take over the Ministry. You heard what they were saying about the Death Eaters ruling when the Big Fungus returned from wherever he’s been vacationing.”
“Why would they want to take over the Ministry?”
“I don’t know, one of them said something about ‘restoring the natural order of things,’ but what that means . . .”
The two girls trailed off into thought. Angelina had a nagging suspicion that she did know what “restoring the natural order meant.” She had heard both her parents use such phrases when talking about “those filthy Mudbloods” and “ignorant Muggles.” Angelina only hoped she was wrong as she glanced over at Emma, who was frowning, deep in thought.
“Why don’t we look in the book and see if it has anything on immortality.”
“Yeah,” Emma agreed looking a little brighter.
But Angelina had just flipped open the book and was perusing the table of contents when the door burst open again. This time it was not a group of Dark wizards looking to discuss their master. It was something much worse.
“Emma!” called a woman’s voice. “Are you in here?”
Emma groaned quietly and mouthed “my aunt” to Angelina.
“We’re back here,” she called, her hands reaching up subconsciously to comb her hair, and then down to smooth her skirt.
“There you are. What on earth are you doing stuffed behind all these coats” her aunt cried in exasperation, but was distracted when her eyes fell on Angelina. “Oh, and you must be Angelina. Happy Christmas. I hope you like the book; Emma spent hours picking it out.”
Emma blushed at this.
“It’s brilliant. Thank you very much,” Angelina responded politely.
“Emma, why don’t you and Angelina come out to the party”it’s the polite thing to do, you know. Not sulk in here with that book. You Ravenclaws, impossible to extract from your books even during the winter holidays,” Mrs. Malfoy rebuked sternly, but not unkindly. “Come on Emma, you can introduce Angelina to Lucius and his friends.”
The girls dutifully followed Mrs. Malfoy to greet the rest of the Malfoy family. And despite having just overheard a plot to take over the Wizarding world, Angelina had felt surprisingly cheerful. Maybe it was the mulled mead, or perhaps it was just having a friend to stand beside, but the evening had passed in a pleasant blur.
A faint hooting sound recalled Angelina to the present.
Smiling slightly, she looked down at her hands and realized she had finished wrapping the parcel. Tabby, a distinguished looking barn owl, was standing next to it looking ready to be off.
“All right, all right,” Angelina appeased the owl as she tied the parcel to Tabby’s foot. “Take this to Emma Hope,” she instructed, and she opened the slit-like window. A gust of cold air blew into the room accompanied by a few snowflakes and a moment later a light grey owl had squeezed itself through the slot. Tabby only glanced briefly at this new arrival before taking off.
Angelina moved quickly over to the owl as Chloe, Angelina's cat, was eyeing the new bird appraisingly from edge of the bed. The owl was standing perfectly still with a glittering gold package sparkling in the glow from the single candle on Angelina’s nightstand. No sooner had Angelina loosed the tie than the bird flew off, gracefully soaring into the cold Christmas sky and out of sight.
Curiously, Angelina pulled the white bow apart and drew off the gold lid of the box to reveal soft white tissue paper. Carefully unfolding it, she looked in awe at the diamond necklace sparkling softly in its box. A tiny cream card lay on top of the box. Angelina reached for it, carefully avoiding touching the diamonds, and turned the card over to see who this generous gift was from. All the card said was: With Love.