Chpt 53: A Call to Action
Someone sucked air through their teeth & hissed, "Incendio."
A jet of fire shot through the trap door and hit the floor. Flames bounced back and roared to life. Her father appeared as the air was became heavy and hard to breathe. Calamity pulled her sleeve over her nose and mouth and dropped to the floor where the air was still a bit clearer. Her father was against the wall, coughing as he said, "This is how he would have been. Here! Yes!"
Calamity coughed. The flames were getting closer and the smoke was getting lower. She spotted the door, grabbed her father's arm, and pulled him along with her to the door. They were in back of the hut.
It was all too familiar. Calamity could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing.
She reached for father, but he had disappeared. All that was left was a paper he'd handed her. Someone hissed, "Avada kedavra."
Everything was black and the only sound was a horrible screech of pain.
Calamity sat up, disoriented as one often was when they were jolted from a dream. She sat for a moment in the dim room, trying to find where she was & why. Had the screech been in her dream or in real life?
The living room was a disaster zone of papers & news sources from the last few months. Her eyes fell on an older American paper on top of a hopeful looking stack, it's headline larger than usual to show its urgency: British Security Questioned After Prison Break. She pushed the paper aside to reveal the February Quibbler. Neither of these seemed to jog anything from her dream.
She closed her eyes in thought: trying to bring back her dreams details before they slipped completely away. She remember her father was there. She inhaled sharply as it came back- it had been months & months since her trip to Albania, and yet the details were still so vivid.
Calamity wanted a distraction. She reached for the pile of papers, but paused. Reading the Quibbler interview with Harry wasn't going to help her nor would recapping the American view on the Azkaban breakout. Both would only help remind her that ithad been three months since Remus had sent her a letter with any news including a coded message from Sirius. The ministry was cracking down on any one they saw as possible enemies of the state & that made letters harder and harder to send. She wished she could find a way to reach Sirius.
Better to do some light-hearted research, she decided.
"Accio Ruling an Unruly Wand: An Abridged History of Beauvais."
A book flew from her bookshelf into her hands & opened to the page she'd left off at.
Wand experts & historians agree that what makes Beauvais wands especially strong & unruly is their core. Rougarou today are still extremely hidden & feared creatures by wizards & no-maj alike in Louisiana. So reclusive are these creatures that it is hard to confirm which details are pure legend and which are facts. Though no-maj Cajun folklore says that anyone who breaks Lent seven years in a row may turn into a rougarou, it is more likely the account from Bud Smitherson is most accurate:
"Only three things can be said for sure about the society of Rougarou in the swamps of Acadiana & Greater New Orleans. First: they appear to the untrained eye like humans (though a bit sickly). Second: they must feed on blood or raw meat every 101 days. Finally, they are extremely suspicious of outsiders. Thus, they do all they can to remain left alone & hidden. Even going so far as to kill."
Such a mixture creates a wand that is equally as untrustworthy of wizard talents & intents. Some sellers of Beauvais wands have reported that on more than one occasion they've needed to escort patrons from their store after a Beauvais wand has rejected them.
There was a knock on the door & Calamity paused, listening as if it might be the wind outside and not an actual knock.
The knock came again so Calamity got up and walked cautiously towards the door, pulling her wand from her pocket. It was cool, but she was still unnerved from her dream. Peeking through the peep-hole she saw Albus Dumbledore standing outside. He seemed to be whistling.
Calamity opened the door slightly to stick her head out, not sure she should believe her eyes. It was Albus Dumbledore in the flesh.
"This is a surprise," Calamity said hesitantly.
Dumbledore looked delighted to see her. "Indeed! It's been ages since I've had a chance to travel. I think retirement suits me."
"Retirement?" Calamity stepped aside to let Dumbledore in. He bowed a thanks before entering & looking around the room with a pleasant smile.
"Lovely as always," Dumbledore observed. He motioned to a seat covered in papers from March. "May I?"
"Yes, of course," Clamaity said. She waved her wand and the papers hovered ot the floor and began to sort themselves. "Please, sit."
"You haven't read Educational Decree number Twenty-eight," Dumbledore continued as if her question about his retirement had not been interrupted.
"No, I haven't. When did it get passed? I get Ministry news about a day late here, if they report anything at all."
"Certainly, the distance makes it more challenging for Cornelius, I'm sure," Dumbledore said sympathetically. "The decree is that Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as the Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Calamity sat down on her own chair is surprise,"Umbridge?"
"Indeed. After I was charged with conspiracy and treason against the Ministry of Magic."
"You were charged..." Calamity repeated these words but could not bring herself to say the last bit. Instead she looked around her own room half expecting someone to jump out from behind a corner and shout "Just kidding!" When no one did she looked back at Dumbledore, concerned, "But, I work for the Ministry on your request. Why would you come here?"
"I have a letter! for you," he stated simply and from his pocket he pulled a letter and handed it over to Calamity. She looked at Dumbledore, then the letter, finally, she opened it carefully to see Sirius' familiar writing.
Calamity,
I'm going crazy. I know you think I'm exaggerating but I swear I'm not. Even Moony can't be convinced to take his favorite canine for a walk! I imagine you've heard the ministry version but the whole government has lost its mind since Arthur's attack & the Azkaban break out. Not to mention Bellatrix is out! And that's just the stuff the Prophet is actually reporting. Did Moony send you the Quibbler? He said he did and through reliable sources, but he's been running about all over the continent so I'm not sure. I''m open to any guesses as to how anyone got Rita Skeeter to write for the Quibbler, let alone an actually true article about Harry, but it's brilliant! Hearing all those details is difficult, though. I should have been there to stop it. I know you'll say that there was no way. I can practically hear you now- trying to distract me by reading something. What you'd be able to find to read in this hellhole is beyond me & i certainly haven't found it.
I hope you are able to write back. If possible, see if Dumbledore will let you send a book with your letter. Something you've read a million times would be the best. I would especially love any annotations you might have. Honestly, I'm starting to think if I get even the smallest bit of interaction with someone I love in this terrible place I might just marry Kreecher.
When this is all over let's take Harry and vacation in Costa Rica. Maybe we can live there with Buckbeak. Any place away from this most Noble House.
Love you & miss you,
Sirius
She reread the letter a second time feeling a swell of emotion.
"Do you have a specific book in mind?"
Calamity looked up at Dumbledore. She'd forgotten he was there.
"I'll need to think," she said glancing at her bookshelf. She could see Anna Karenina, but it was such a tragedy. Surely he would like something more cheerful to take his mind off things.
"I am not as well versed in literature as you," Dumbledore said. "But what about The Violent Bear It Away by Flannery O'Connor? Or perhaps a collection of poems? Sylvia Plath's Colossus?"
Calamity watched as Dumbledore moved closer to her bookshelf, continuing cheerfully. "I believe the review I read, though it was back in the 1960s, was that Colossus was a spectacular force, in which she writes about sows and skeletons, fathers and suicides, about the noisy imperatives of life and the chilly hunger for death. The New York Times, which I'm told is a prominent book reviewer here, said the poems were 'graceful in their craftsmanship, wonderfully original in their imagery, and presenting layer after layer of meaning.'" Dumbledore glanced at her. "I believe that's what it said."
"Two books about death," Calamity asked. "I don't think would be especially good for someone locked in their own personal hell."
"Yes,yes," Dumbledore tutted to himself. "As someone who has witnesses death at a young age, I find myself drawn to thoughts about it. I even worked with some friends in creating and studying a philosophers stone, though it was wisely destroyed some years ago."
"That seems more like a drive to live forever than a fascination with death," Calamity said. She was starting to grow suspicious of this visit, which was now starting to turn into riddles.
"Quite insensible to seek such a thing, but youth is rarely sensible. I know as a doctor you have seen your fair share of deaths, though some stand out stronger than others. Some of us learn it is inevitable & live our lives, but others can't face it. Our weakness becomes our hubris to defeat Death."
"Albus," Calamity said firmly. "Is there something you're trying to get at? You know we Americans don't do well with subtleties."
"I'd like to discuss the information your father shared with you and I about Tom Riddle. It is time for our next move & your father's information has helped us plan it."
"You've been working with children for too long," Calamity said in a tired tone. "I'm not so swayed by my father's memory. He was a terrible man with terrible crimes. The world is better off without him."
"Perhaps and in his final years he worked to help bring information that has been essential in helping me find Tom Riddle's weakness. This hubris, this desire for power, but also for recognition of power. This trophy collecting."
"You're becoming a sphinx again," Calamity said with a frown.
"The Diadem was a trophy of power, an attempt to defeat death. But it is never enough to make such a trophy. People must know about them or see them before they are hidden away, so Tom Riddle showed your father. His hubris led the information back to us. This is why you can help me now to find another trophy covered in nothing but pride and desire."
Calamity remained silent.
"I admit that at a younger age, I was closer to Tom Riddle. His love of power and thirst for appreciation is not as foreign to me as I would like to believe. It is truly a strong person who can resist such temptation for recognition and work diligently for what is right, even when reward is not promised."
"Where do I come in," Calamity asked skeptically.
Dumbledore turned away from the bookshelf and moved hurriedly across the room, as if he had suddenly remembered an urgent errand. At the door he paused to face her once more.
"It is time, Clara. Meet me at the main entrance to Congress at 9 tomorrow so we can take these many pieces and put them together. Perhaps we'll manage to save ourselves from Voldemort. If you decide not to come, I will be forced to go alone and at my own peril."
He closed the door behind him, leaving Calamity at the bookshelf, Sirius' letter still clasped in her hand.
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