Chapter 3: The Day of Reckoning
Hermione had dropped Ron off in the Hospital Wing and raced after Harry, who had left through the front doors. She had followed him up the path to Hogsmeade, all the way to the very outskirts, atop the hill that led down to the Shrieking Shack, in a little green valley which was scattered with soggy leaves.
She held her breath and watched as Harry pulled a chain from under his cloak. He fumbled with the necklace for a moment, but she couldn't see what he was holding because his back was to her.
The wind was gently brushing through the trees and the sun was settling over the mountains in the distance. The trees were dark, casting long shadows over the mossy forest ground. There was a small spider crawling on the ground near Harry's foot.
Harry sat with his back against a rock. He stretched out and placed his glasses beside him. He looked up into the sky, and so did Hermione. It was daunting, glowing a deep orange, pure and clean, ancient and wise. Through war and peace, through trial and pain, it had stood unscathed, untouched by the battles, un-scarred by injustice.
"This is magic," whispered Harry. "This is true magic."
Hermione stood in shock. Was he talking to her?
"Can't you feel it in the air? It's everywhere around us, urging us to call on it - and I want to do it, my body yearns to grab it, but I can't, not yet. There's too much to control. It's too powerful to be commanded by me, a mere mortal. In time I'll use it, but not now. I need training first," said Harry. He stood up and brushed some dirt off the back of his robes.
"And when will you leave?" asked Hermione quietly, stepping out from behind her hiding spot behind a tree.
Harry looked up. "Right now," he said.
"Are you going to let me and Ron go with you?" asked Hermione.
A long pause followed.
"Not Ron, no, he won't handle it well. You can come if you'd like, but I have to warn you; it will be tough. This school I was telling you about, it's renowned as being the most rigorous, violent magical school in the world. They're obsessed with power; they crave it, seek it, capture it." Harry chuckled. "Their entrance exam - it's a test; simple, really. You just have to make it into the building."
"W-what?" asked Hermione. Harry was beginning to scare her. He was talking without looking at her, speaking into the wind. Something was glittering in his eyes. His hands were glowing.
"The doors have no magical signature. There is no trace of magic on the school. It's just a brick building. But there's something else that's entwined within the structure, deep and powerful, that binds anyone who attempts to enter it."
Hermione paused. "Why do you want to go there? It sounds like a terrible place. Why can't you just stay here and learn? It's so much simpler, and you don't have to hurt Ron."
"But it-it just doesn't work that way," said Harry. "I have to do this. This school offers so much more than I can get here. And," said Harry, pausing, "maybe I'll learn better when I'm not treated like a celebrity."
"That doesn't change the fact that you're leaving Ron behind. He's been loyal to you for six years. He's your best friend. How can you just leave him behind?" accused Hermione.
"Because my life doesn't have room for friends," said Harry, pulling his cloak up about his shoulders.
They began walking down the path to the Shrieking Shack and stopped at the boarded front door. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and turned to look at her.
"Do you want to come?" asked Harry.
Hermione's eyes widened. She hadn't expected Harry to let her come so easily. She had planned to track his magical signature, something she had read over the summer, and follow him. But his question shocked her.
"I-I-I," stuttered Hermione.
She felt quite silly. Here she was, after all of her planning, being asked to go with Harry, and she didn't know what to do.
She sighed and shook her head at the ground. "Of course I'll go."
And then Harry grinned wildly, his face lighting up, sparked with adventure. A thousand steeds raced through his eyes as he looked up into the sky, his hair suddenly fluttering in the wind.
With a quiet whooshing sound they were sucked into a black rubber tube.
A blinding light burned Hermione's eyes. She let go of Harry's hand and covered her face. Harry steadied her as she was about to fall over.
"Thanks," said Hermione, feeling slightly dizzy. "Where are we?"
"Iowa," said Harry. "Not much to look at, but we won't be here long."
Hermione squinted and lifted her hand from her face. Sure enough, they were standing in the middle of what appeared to be a massive asphalt cross-road stamped into the middle of a sandy desert. She looked down one road and wondered if it ever ended.
"It's huge," said Hermione. "Does anyone live around here?"
"Well, there are some Muggles about thirty kilometers down the southern road, and a family of rabbits about ten feet to your left who are quite interested in your socks."
Hermione whirled around, sending a pack of small, brown rabbits scattering down the road.
"Other than that, no, there isn't anyone else around here. There is a Portkey, though, over on that fence."
"And where will that take us?" asked Hermione, shading her eyes with her hand and looking over at the fence where Harry was pointing.
"To the pub outside the school. From there we have to hike to the school, then we have to find a way into the school. I can take you back if you want," offered Harry.
"No," said Hermione sternly. "I'm going with you. Tell me more about this school."
"For one, I have no idea where it is. I think it's unplottable. The only way to get there is from a few Portkeys scattered around the world. The only way to get out is by a Portkey in the pub and in the school.
"It's located in the middle a mountain range, and it's on an island in the center of a lake. There are hundreds of animals in the forest near the edge of the lake: Centaurs, Griffins, Kneazles, Acromantula, you name it. Some of them haven't even been recorded."
Hermione's eyes widened. "That sounds like the most crazy and dangerous place I have ever heard of."
"You can go-"
"I'm going with you, Harry. Do you think I'd just leave you to face all of that alone? Not a chance."
Harry blinked. He pulled his hood up over his head. "Then let's not waste any time," he said. "Hold on tight." With a wave of his hand, Harry summoned a walking-stick that was leaning against the fence on the far side of the road and shoved it into Hermine's grasp.
With a familiar spinning sensation and a hard jerk behind her naval, Hermione rocketed into the sky.
They were greeted by a sing-song choir of "Hello"'s from a rowdy bunch of teenagers sitting around a table. Hermione slipped and fell backwards - directly into a chair. She looked up and saw Harry grinning as he turned the chair around and pushed it under a table.
"What would you like to drink?" he asked.
There was something about Harry's face that made Hermione smile. She couldn't help herself; he was so happy, yet so frail, and was grinning like a mad schoolboy. Here he was, Harry Potter, the most powerful Wizard in the world, offering her a drink. It was enough to make anyone smile.
"I'll have a butterbeer," Hermione replied.
"As you wish," said Harry. With a comical bow he swept away to the bar.
Hermione shook her head and turned to the table. She was slightly shocked to see a man sitting across from her, staring back with his chin resting on his palm as he leaned his elbow into the table.
"Hello," said the man.
He had dark hair, jet-black like Harry's, and his cloak looked like a sowed-up portion of the night sky. His face was pale white and his eyes were gray like lead, with dark spots around the center. He smiled, revealing four small, pointed fangs on either side of his mouth.
"What brings you to Tumier Halle, School of the Damned?" asked the man.
"Fate," said Hermione simply. "I'm Hermione Granger, you are?" She extended her hand.
"Laszlo Barczay," he said, shaking her hand. "And I might say I'm here for the same reason."
A tray of bottles settled on the table and Hermione looked up to see Harry sliding into the seat beside her.
"Harry Burkhard," said Harry, reaching out his hand - his left hand. The man looked down at it oddly, then shook it.
"You are with her?" asked Laszlo.
"Yes, I am," said Harry, raising his drink to his lips and drinking deeply. "And if you even think of drinking her blood, I'll slit your eyes with a crucifix."
Laszlo's eyes widened and he withdrew his hand quickly. A crooked grin crossed his face and his eyes thinned into slits. "I'll remember that," he said quietly. He stood up and stepped backwards into the shadows, vanishing as Hermione blinked. His voice echoed out of the darkness. "We'll meet again."
"What was that?" asked Hermione. "Was he a vampire?"
"Yes," said Harry bitterly. "And he had his eyes on you like he hadn't eaten in months. That's disgusting."
"How do you know? I think he was just being friendly."
"Because he was using a glamour charm to hide the blood dripping off of his teeth," said Harry.
"That's disgusting," said Hermione, taking a sip of her Butterbeer. "Do you actually carry a crucifix on you?"
Harry reached for his cloak and pulled out a small cross, sharp on all ends and gleaming unnaturally in the dim lamplight. "Made out of silver," he explained. "I carry ten of them. They're charmed to come back to me, just in case I run into any large packs of Werewolves or Vampires."
"And you really think you need all of this protection?" asked Hermione.
"You can never be too safe," said Harry coldly.
"Constant vigilance," muttered Hermione, smirking. She sipped down the last of her drink. "What are we doing next?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Going for a hike," he said as he pulled a long walking stick out of his robes and handed it to Hermione. "You've got five minutes to get ready. I'm going to get a shot of Firewhiskey. Don't get into any trouble."
"Harry!" protested Hermione. "Do you really think that's appropriate?"
He had already left and was talking with the barkeeper. She watched in disbelief as Harry downed two small glasses of Firewhiskey. He stumbled back to the table and started coughing.
"Great dring," he said. "Alright, lez go."
Hermione followed Harry as he stumbled out the door and down a dirt path that wound into the dark forest ahead of them.
They had walked not a hundred feet when Hermione grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pushed him against a tree.
"You're not walking another step until your sober," hissed Hermione. "I'll not have you eaten by some Yeti because you're drunk on Firewhiskey."
"Lay off," snapped Harry. "It lonley lazt a cuble minuzs. I been practizen to throw et off. You watch. It'll be gone zoon."
"No," said Hermione simply. "Not until you're sober."
"What's this?" asked a quiet voice from the shadows. "Stuck after only a few steps? I suspected as much from our conversation - Burkhard, is it? You should both turn back."
A thin form suddenly appeared beside Hermione. It was Lazslo, and this time he was doing nothing to hide his dripping teeth. He had obviously found something in the woods to eat because there was a thin stream of blood dribbling off his chin.
Hermione saw a blur in the corner of her eye as Harry jumped to his feet. His wand miraculously appeared in his hand and he held it at eye level, pointed directly at Laszlo's forehead.
"You would do well to leave us alone," said Harry menacingly, having somehow sobered in the short time he had been standing against the tree.
Laszlo raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?" he whispered. "I am not afraid of you."
"Nor I of you," Harry retorted.
They stood staring at each other like two statues set in the ground. Harry's eyes were gleaming with fire, masking a wild dancer in the background. But Laszlo was not excited. He stared back coldly behind his mask of indifference.
Finally, Harry lowered his wand and turned down the path in a quick walk. "Come on, Hermione. We don't have much time."
Laszlo had still not moved, but his eyes remained pinned on Harry's shrinking form. Vampires, Hermione concluded, were not to be taken lightly, and she started down the path.
They had been walking for almost an hour and the temperature had dropped drastically as they started their uphill ascent. As far as Hermione could tell, the path was leading up a mountain and curved around the midsection, cutting between a neighboring mountain. Harry did not seem to notice or care. He was too busy glancing frantically into the bushes and wiping his palms on the sides of his pants.
The trees surrounding the path were enormous. They had no branches for thirty feet up the trunk. Above that was a sheet of leaves so thick that Hermione could barely tell it was daytime.
And so they walked along in the darkness.
"I'm going to owl Ron, you know, and my parents," said Hermione.
Harry continued walking, looking straight ahead and to the side. "I know," he said.
Hermione stared at Harry in the darkness. This was one more way Harry had changed over the summer: His responses had become terse, and every word had meaning. It was good, Hermione thought, but it became annoying to hold a conversation with him.
That was just it. It bothered Hermione that someone could change so much in so short a time. She could not imagine what he had gone through over the summer. And, after some quick calculation, she realized that she did not want to think about it. She contented herself with watching Harry's Mad-Eye-Moody-like antics as he scanned the path in front of them.
Then he stopped. He raised his head into the air. Hermione couldn't see his eyes, but she knew they were darting back and forth. Some bushes to the left of the path shook, followed by a blinding white light that caused Hermione to stumble and cover her eyes.
A stiff hand grabbed Hermione's wrist and spun her to the ground. She fell in the dirt and rolled off the path into a patch of tall grass. A bright red light flew over her head, blasting a hole in tree beside her. She heard a loud voice with a thick accent.
The moment lasted forever and an instant all at once. Hermione jumped to her feet just in time to see a darkly robed figure swing his wand down, sending a flurry of daggers from the tip as it moved. Harry stood ten feet in front of them.
But Hermione saw no fear in his eyes - his cold, blue eyes. No, she saw determination set like stone on his face. His body was poised like a coiled snake. And just as the daggers struck him, he smiled. It was not an evil smile nor a kind smile, but an amused, arrogant smile. His teeth did not show and the corners of his mouth turned slightly at the end - one corner more sharply than the other. It was not the smile of a loser, but of a winner.
Hermione screamed.
The darkly robed man lunged forward and sank his teeth into Harry's neck. It sounded like two swords clashing together.
There was a faint shimmer behind the man. The air looked like smoke; it was warped and bent. Then a hand reached up through an invisible hole in the ground. It shot upwards followed by a green blur and connected solidly with the man's head, which snapped forwards with a sickening crunch.
The man fell forward onto his knees and slumped to the ground.
All became silent; the leaves rustled in the wind and a cloud of dust glittered in the sunlight. Hermione glanced upward at the sudden flash and saw a thin, lanky figure grasping four tree around him, a silhouette against the sky. With a high pitched laugh it bounded off across the treetops and the gap in the forest ceiling closed, calling the darkness once again.
Hermione sprinted forward and slid to Harry's limp body. She looked down at his face and saw that his eyes were still blue. They sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. She had meant to ask him - she wondered if he even knew - but had been too afraid to do it in fear that Harry might run off.
His eyes brought coldness with him. He was untouchable, solid, with a glare like ice. They cut and sliced everything in their path. But they had no life, like Harry's green eyes, no sparkle to match. She hated those eyes, those orbs of blue fire. Now she would never see them again.
Harry's head was cold, almost metallic, under Hermione's hand. She pulled back and stared inquisitively at his forehead. It had felt - almost - Hermione thought she had gone mad - like a rock.
"Are you quite finished?" said a low voice.
Hermione jumped and spun around. She had nearly forgotten the invisible-hole man in her haste to get to Harry.
In fact, he looked a lot like Harry. He had the same wavy, black hair. The same thick-framed glasses rested on his nose. And he had the same eyes, the same wonderful, sparkling green eyes.
With a shout of joy Hermione tackled him in a bone-crushing hug. He still felt as hard as a rock.
"I'm fine, Hermione," said Harry blandly.
"But how?" asked Hermione as she pulled away. "How did you - the knives?"
"An illusion," responded Harry. "Let's get going; we don't have much time."
"An illusion?" shouted Hermione as she darted down the path after Harry. "You didn't tell me you could make illusions."
"There is a lot about me that you don't know," said Harry.
That much is obvious, Hermione thought bitterly. I have to make him tell me. I have to know why his eyes turn blue.
"Who was that man back there? Why did he attack you?" asked Hermione.
Harry stared into the air. "This school's population is half vampires. In order to appease their lust for blood, they are each allowed one new student from which to drink. I was that student's drink."
Hermione felt like vomiting. She had known the school was violent, but she had not known it was barbaric. She liked it less and less with every word she heard about it.
"If that was a student, wouldn't those knives have killed you? That is illegal here I presume," said Hermione.
"You are correct. However, those blades would not have killed me. They were coated in vampire venom. The moment they hit I would have been knocked out and when I awoke I would have been an undead vampire."
"If they wonder why their population is half vampires, I think I could tell them," said Hermione mockingly.
"They are not allowed to convert," Harry stated. "Their venom is banished from their fangs as long as they are on school grounds."
Hermione nodded. "Vampires are supposed to be eight times stronger than a human. How did you knock him out so easily?" asked Hermione.
Harry smirked - or at least that was what Hermione thought he did; she couldn't tell in the darkness. "They have three weaknesses. Two veins, which pump blood from each fang to their heart, run down their spine from their neck, down their back, and up under their ribcage. They will collapse if hit under the ribcage in the front or the back, or in the center of the neck between the shoulder blades."
"And how do you know all of this?" asked Hermione.
"Books," said Harry, shrugging. "And some experience."
"How terrible," muttered Hermione. She wanted to scream that it was an injustice, that no one should have to live like that. She wanted to grab Harry and pull him into another dimension where everything was right – where there were no Dark Lords or Death-Eaters or Horcruxes. But she couldn't.
And suddenly there was a cold breeze wafting towards them from down the path. Hermione looked up and covered her mouth with her hand. In front of them there was a gaping black hole, nearly fifty feet around, stuck in the side of the mountain like the mouth of a mad, screaming demon.
Before Hermione could utter a protest, Harry had already walked ahead, instantly blocked from view by the sheet of darkness. She walked to the edge, her heart beating madly. Every instinct told her to stay back, to turn around and walk away, but as she looked forward into the emptiness she heard a song, a sweet, glorious song, beckoning her forward to its infinite radiance, calling and tugging at her magic, which yearned to go forward. She could not resist and stepped into the abyss.
There, ten feet ahead, she saw Harry, grinning madly at her with his wand drawn and glaring with light. Something invisible was spinning around him, a vortex of power that blew over Hermione, sending shocks through her body. She sighed, suddenly, and felt contentment wash over her body, urged by the song in the distance. She felt like she was in a warm bath laying back with her eyes shut and thinking about nothing in particular. She felt like she was soaring through the sky without a fear in her mind. She felt like she was running wildly across a plain, barefoot and careless, shouting her song into the wind.
It abruptly stopped, and Hermione looked up to see the light gone and two glowing blue eyes staring back at her in the darkness.
She screamed as she felt a hand cover her mouth. It was Harry.
"We must move quickly. The bats are coming."
A shrill screech erupted from the darkness. The sound of a thousand fluttering wings sliced through the air and an army of beady red eyes appeared in the distance.
"Run!" shouted Harry, grabbing Hermione's hand.
They sprinted towards the bats and slid onto the ground as Harry cast a wordless shield charm. There was a loud concession of thumps as the bats collided with it and slid, unconscious, to the ground.
Like a hurricane of blackness they swarmed in circles around the dim, blue shield, screaming in protest, waiting for a moment to strike. Their tiny eyes whipped in circles around it, making an ominous red ring.
Hermione covered her ears and curled into a ball. The sound was piercing her skull. Her ears throbbed so violently that she touched them to make sure they weren't bleeding. She looked up and saw Harry crouching, with his eyebrows slanted, deep in thought, and his jaw set.
He held his wand loosely, but the gleam in his eyes was alert and ready. His gaze pierced the darkness, flitting around and about the blackest corners and the most impenetrable paths. He shifted so subtly that Hermione barely realized he was looking at her. His face was impassive.
"There's someone out there," he said.
Ice ran down Hermione's spine. She moved into a crouching position and grabbed her wand. One thing she had learned in her time with Harry is to never panic; he never did.
In an instant the red glowing ring dissipated and the sound of fluttering wings melted away. It was suddenly quiet—too quiet. Hermione glanced at Harry and saw his arm pointed straight to the side, his wand parallel and his wrist stiff. She looked down the invisible line and saw, although faintly, the dim outline of a man.
"Hello," said a familiar voice. "I believe we have met before."
The tip of Harry's wand lit, casting a thin beam of light forward onto the man's face. He had dark hair and gray eyes with small red lines around the edges. He was cleanly shaved and pale. His eyes glowed eerily.
Harry's face broke into a slight grin. "We have—Barkzay, is it?"
"Call me Laszlo, Mr. Burkhard, and I shall call you Harry."
Laszlo slid his hand into his robes and pulled out a long, thin wand, black as the surrounding darkness and gleaming like his watery eyes. Harry stiffened as Lazlo flicked his wand. With a loud cracking sound, the cave was flooded with light.
Hermione recoiled and covered her eyes. The light burned through her eyelids, and the headache which she thought could get no worse increased tenfold. She briefly wondered why Harry had not flinched.
"You have Marlo's Mask," said Harry suddenly with awe.
Hermione uncovered her eyes slowly and looked at Laszlo. He was grinning and leaning against the wall of the cave. He blinked.
"You are well versed in the ways of vampires—more than any human I have met. I am honored, but frightened, slightly. What is your motivation for researching the evil ways of the undead?"
Harry grinned. "You don't appear evil," he said. "And who wouldn't research their future classmates?"
"You are no fool," said Laszlo, sliding his wand back into his robes. "And neither is Miss Granger"—he turned to Hermione—"Though she does not have quite the mental shields as you."
Suddenly Harry tensed. His eyes thinned and he gripped his wand firmly. "That will change," he said.
"I have no doubt," said Laszlo. "You are not only intelligent, but wise. And your power is great—only once have I seen Anand's Portal cast correctly, and that was over a hundred years ago. I shall have some competition this year. Good luck to you."
Laszlo extended his hand. It was slim and white like the rest of his body, bony but smooth.
Harry grasped it and shook it firmly. "I have no doubt. I will be watching my back."
"There will be no need," said Laszlo. "I am not stupid enough to fight you. Instead, I would like to offer my services. You do look like you need some help getting through this cave. Might I join your party?"
A windstorm of magic gathered in the air, sparkling and swirling.
"If you wish, Mister Barkzay," said Harry smoothly. "If you wish."