CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE GRIMOIRE OF DABRIA
Harry appeared in the sleepy village of Godric's Hollow with a crack, echoing in the otherwise silent night. The clear night sky was littered with glistening stars. A gentle breeze drifted through Harry's face and hair. He could not help but think it was the calm before the storm.
He looked around at the old village that had defined most of his life, its quaint cottages filling streets and lanes, with St Jerome's Church visible in the distance. The apparition had brought back the nausea and Harry heaved with laboured breaths as the curse's claws dug deeper into his skin.
Mara Greaves had led him here, to Godric's Hollow specifically and he was certain it was for one reason only: to dig the knife in deeper. She had cursed Harry, had thrown his crime rate record lows out of the window, made him fear for his family, and now, it seemed, she just wanted to taunt Harry.
Harry armed his wand at the ready and slowly walked through the first few streets he came across, looking for any sign of the enemy. If Harry was correct, and he thought he had at least somewhat inherited Dumbledore's wonderful ability to guess correctly, then Mara Greaves wasn't just going to appear. She was going to continue to torture him for as long as she could get away with.
He had deduced—from being told by Eduardo the wandmaker that cashew wands with Thunderbird feather cores are exceptionally useful for transfiguration—that she could likely easily disguise herself as anyone. However, transfiguration could only get you so far. He was reasonably confident that he would know if he saw someone with those round eyes, or those thick brows, he would find his perpetrator.
He passed the Post Office. The church was now up close. With the lateness of the night, it was shrouded in darkness. Harry's eyes instinctively moved over to the graveyard, where he knew his parents lay.
Anger suddenly burned in his throat; Mara Greaves had been running rings around him for months, using magic up until recently he didn't understand and even now only had a slight grasp of. He had to come alone – she would know if he didn't, and he needed her to show up. It was his only hope of removing the curse, and he had to do that.
He had promised Ginny.
Harry tried to creep in the shadows, hoping to see the girl before she saw him. His inner voice whispered doubts of this working, that she probably was watching his every move, but he clung to the notion nonetheless, if just for some sort of tactical approach to the situation.
Harry swiftly moved around the outside of the graveyard, to search in the cobbled street beyond, when something caught his eye and he stopped dead in his tracks. Harry slowly turned his head, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing was real.
It was dark, and there were several graves and a fence somewhat obscuring Harry's vision, but there was no doubt that in the middle of the graveyard, standing with a serene smile, was a woman he hadn't seen in twenty years. Red hair not unlike Ginny's.
Harry stared at his mother, somewhat mesmerised, somewhat terrified; he knew it wasn't real. He knew his mother was dead and had been for decades. Yet he couldn't stop staring nonetheless, couldn't help standing there, not talking, not taking action, but just watching his mother.
This is what she wants. To get in your head.
Harry came to his senses and with a quick swish of his wand, shouted "Petrificus Totalus!"
The spell shot out of his wand, directly at his mother, but before there was contact she turned and vanished on the spot.
Harry spun around with his wand raised, looking for any signs of movement in the darkness. Again, he felt a twinge from the curse, like a leech stuck to his chest, sucking out the air.
Not now.
"So you're not a complete idiot then, Potter." A voice rang out from beyond his sight.
Every word she spoke reeked of spite. Her voice Harry assumed was once genuinely tender and sweet, but bitterness had turned it sour, so that she spat her sentences with venom. Harry looked around again, trying to find the source of the voice.
A flash of red light.
Harry noticed the wand swish in the air a moment too late, and his own holly-and-phoenix-feather wand flew out of his hand and dropped to the floor. Emerging from the darkness came the girl, her round, hazel eyes and black, furrowed brows gave her the look of an overgrown child in the midst of a tantrum. Harry could see the hate in her eyes, and that darker, lonelier sadness he had seen before.
"Hello, Mara," Harry replied calmly, although his heart was beating faster than ever; he was now unarmed and Merlin knew what she was capable of, especially in this state.
"Don't address me, Potter." She spat.
Harry thought he sensed the sliver of a quiver in her voice for a second, but when she spoke next, it was gone.
"Did you work it out just now with my little trick or were you clever enough to work it out before you got here?" Mara Greaves asked, with an air of gloating in her voice.
"I've known who you are for a little while now." Harry replied.
"And why did you come?" Mara growled.
"You know why. I need you to remove my curse, and I'm here to bring you in."
Mara screeched.
At first Harry thought she was screaming; then he realised she was laughing.
"Please don't tell me that you are really that stupidly noble. You are the same man who defeated Lord Voldemort, right? What - do you think that you can convince me to remove the curse? That I'll come quietly? I disarmed you before you even had a chance to do anything! The great Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived, Lord Voldermort's worst nightmare, the best Head Auror for a century, The Chosen One! Except I realised something that no-one else seems to."
Mara Greaves ranted like she had been waiting all her life to tell Harry what she thought of him. He wanted to allow her to do so. Not only would it give him time to think up some sort of plan, but if he was going to get through to her, he needed to understand her perspective.
"And what did you realise?" Harry said, still feigning calm.
"That you are just a man! There's nothing special about you! You're not a hero! You were only Voldemort's greatest weakness because he was stupid enough to make you so! But against me – against anyone else – you have no unfair advantage," Mara grinned widely, her eyes looking lost and maddening.
Harry was vaguely reminded of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"I've been saying that all my life. I'm just a person, like anyone else. Which is why I don't understand why, despite your insults, you've made me out to be special?" Harry retorted.
Mara frowned in confusion.
"Well," Harry continued, "You've sought me out this past year. You've done everything you can to mark me, to target me. To get revenge. And by doing so, you've held me in the same regard as everyone else has. To you, I am special. You want me powerless or dead because you see me as some kind of threat. That means you will have succeeded, right? But sending Muggles into a frenzy and possessing them with magic to get my attention, cursing me, killing me… none of it will change what happened."
"And what happened, Potter?" Mara jumped on his last words, "I want to hear you SAY IT!"
Harry clenched his jaw; he could not pretend to himself that he had never thought, in darker moments, that Brennan Greaves' death was his fault.
But this was the job; he knew better than to think he could save everyone.
"Your brother attacked innocent people. I stopped him."
"KILLED him!" Mara screamed.
Harry noticed one or two lights around the houses turn on. The commotion had attracted the attention of at least a couple of people. The last thing Harry needed was for Mara to have a reason to attack more innocent people.
"Your brother died, but I didn't shoot to kill. He killed himself, with his actions and his all-consuming hate. I tried to bring him in but he fought to the death," Harry said, coldly.
Mara seemed to be struggling with a response. She stared at Harry with a manic gaze and would occasionally look around frantically, or hide her head in her hands for split seconds. Harry stole another glance at his fallen wand when she wasn't looking; it was only a few feet away.
If he dived, he could reach it for sure.
"My brother was ill! He was sick! He needed HELP. You, and that Weasley, and those fire-friendly Ministry hacks, you all decided that my brother wasn't worth helping! You just wanted him out of the way!" Mara roared.
"That's not true," Harry said, raising his voice to make sure she heard every word, "Yes, your brother was sick. We tried to help him. We tried to stop him from hurting anyone else or himself. And he killed a Muggle child. A little girl, she was no older than you that day!" Harry's voice broke.
For a moment, Harry thought he saw something real… something not lost in rage, behind her eyes.
"And even then, even after that, I didn't shoot to kill. I shot to stun. But your brother was infected with dark magic … and his body wasn't able to take it."
Mara shook her head, staring wide-eyed at Harry with an ugly grimace.
Something he had said had triggered her to start shouting again.
"You only call it dark because you don't understand it! My brother didn't either, really... But I did. I do. This magic isn't dark. This magic is in my blood. This is MY magic! And it's more powerful than any magic you have, so you call it dark."
Harry sighed; he glanced at his wand again.
"Don't be blinded by the same foolish notions as your brother, Mara. It will consume you, like it did him. Let me help you. Stop all this. Lift my curse. You can get the help Brennan couldn't bring himself to accept."
"DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" Mara screamed and flicked her wand with a slash in the air.
Harry swiftly rolled out of the way of the spell as a fence behind him smashed into bits of splintered wood. Harry swiped up his wand.
"Stupefy!" Harry flicked Stunning Spells in Mara's direction but she deflected them and sent them back at Harry, forcing him backwards as he produced a shield charm. The three beams deflected and smashed into the cobbles behind him.
Harry took cover behind a wall that was taller than him, and found that he was in the car park of the local pub. The duel had rendered him breathless again.
A thread of doubt lingered; would he be able to have a sustained duel in this condition? And where were her followers? Were they preparing to ambush him any moment?
Before Harry could even think of an answer, there was a pop and Mara had apparated just a few feet in front of him. He lifted his wand at the last moment, deflecting her Stunning Spell with a shield, but Mara was fierce, lost in rage, and she sent three more spells in quick succession.
Harry blocked the first two, but on his third attempt to block, his magic failed him, like his legs giving out in a marathon, and his wand simply spat out a small flash before he was blasted back and his head hit the wall behind him, hard.
Lights popped in front of Harry's eyes. He reached up and felt warm blood on the back of his head. He tried to see straight; everything was going in and out of focus. Harry's grip slackened on his wand.
"No, Potter… you won't beat me." Mara gloated, with a sick grin. "I am the true master of the Grimoire of Dabria. I have learned its power, and I will use it to beat you, beat Weasley, beat everyone else responsible for the death of my brother. I will smash the system at its core and watch it crumble."
"Where are your followers, Mara?" Harry asked, groggily.
"Unlike you, I don't need other people to fight my battles for me. I told them not to come; this is between me and you. I will not endanger them. You already captured one of my friends, and you'll pay for that too," Mara sneered.
Mara raised her wand; before Harry could lift his arm again to fight back, Mara screeched:
"Crucio!"
Harry roared out in agony as thunder and fire erupted in his every pore. He writhed uncontrollably, his hands clenched tight, until Mara released the curse.
Mara cackled gleefully and waved her wand as she approached Harry. An ornate leather-bound book appeared out of thin air. It was black and bordered by gold. "DABRIA" was printed along the front of it, in an ancient, cursive scribe.
Mara crouched down, hovering the book down to Harry's level and with a flick of her wand it opened up.
"Bask in it, Potter; this is the closest you will ever get to true magic. My ancestor, the great Dabria, kept her magic hidden for centuries after her death. And now, it has arrived back in its rightful owner's hands. And for all his flaws, my brother brought this wonderful magic back into the family. He found an ancient letter with old family heirlooms, and followed its instructions to this incredible book. If only he had been more prepared for it, like I was.
"See, when Brennan took me to Brazil, I didn't really understand. I was only seven years old. But he had found an ancient family tree and instructions to the location of the grimoire. I loved my brother, but he only got as far as he did because of his lucky find. When we returned two years later, I understood the magic better than he ever could."
Harry felt hazy; not only had his curse worn him down, but his head was throbbing and he felt woozy and nauseous. He tried to focus his thoughts.
"Mara... the grimoire is evil. I know why you are drawn to it, I understand, but it will consume you like it did your brother. Please, listen to me - "
"Idiot!" She spat, "I have already mastered this power! The fact the great Harry Potter is at my feet is a testament to that!"
Panic was starting to set in the pit of Harry's stomach. He thought hard: what did I learn in Brazil?
Vida Da Alma, or Life of the Soul, was about the giving and taking of magic. He could fight her attempt to seal it… he had practised that, though unlike the other glyphs he had studied, he had no way to test if it was working properly, since no-one had attempted to seal his curse yet.
"I will lift your curse..." Mara said, and Harry's head instinctively shot up to look her in the eye.
She was grinning maliciously. Her long, black hair now seemed frizzed, frayed on end, to match the rest of her erratic personality. Harry strained further to remember what he had read from the books he had borrowed from Mbwana Kondo but the lightheaded throbbing made it hard to concentrate.
"The reason I lured you here is because to seal the curse, I needed you close. By completing its work, it will drain you of all your magic and then – it will be lifted." Mara sneered.
Mara cleared her throat and started chanting spells in a low, hushed tone. The book was glowing white. The breeze in the street seemed to pick up suddenly to a blustery wind. Harry realised she was speaking in Portuguese. Harry tried to picture the glyphs… There was one in particular he was trying to recall. "...in need of seal prevention."
His wand was feet away, but he knew if this worked, he wouldn't need it.
He closed his hand into a fist and moved it in clockwise motions. His arm ached, feeling heavy and lethargic but he kept turning it in the air.
Clean me from pollution. Mind, body and soul.
Harry repeated the mantra over and over under his breath and closed his eyes, because he found it easier to concentrate. The light from the book started to dim, he could tell even through his eyelids. It was only a few moments after that Mara stopped chanting.
"You think you can stop me because you read a few lines from a book? I have the source of all the magic that matters in my possession!" Mara screeched.
Harry didn't respond. He kept his eyes closed and kept repeating the words.
He knew it wouldn't remove the curse; but it would stop Mara from sealing it, while he tried to think of a new strategy.
"If you mean to delay me, Potter, I can just kill you instead."
Harry opened his eyes and rolled over to his wand. Mara noticed immediately and flicked her wand.
"Confringo!"
A spark of flames ignited near Harry. They set his robes alight, and he patted the flames down into the ground, trying to keep his face away from the intense heat. His right palm burning but the fire out, he looked around; his wand had flown into the air and landed another ten feet away from him.
"It's over, Potter."
"Mara, listen -"
"Silencio!"
Harry felt his vocal cords tighten. He shouted but no sound escaped his lips.
Mara Greaves lifted her wand one more time. Harry was stuck, out of ideas, and resigned to defeat.
And then, a jet of red light flashed across Harry's vision, crashing into Mara Greaves' chest and launching her into the air. Mara landed with a thud and an anguished whimper.
Harry snapped his head around and regretted it instantly as the nausea erupted in his throat. He vomited on the ground, wiped his mouth, and then looked up.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Neville Longbottom asked, anxiously.
He kneeled down to Harry.
"Neville! M'fine…" Harry muttered, "Just wounded."
"Listen, Harry; tell me what to do," Neville said.
Harry tried to think. The world was spinning. Neville stood up and stepped towards the Grimoire of Dabria, which was still floating idly in the air.
"Will this book help you?"
"No! Don't touch it, Neville!" Harry gasped.
Neville took a few steps back.
"Alright, Harry - just tell me what you need."
"That book can lift my curse, but if you touch it, it will curse you. Only she can do it. Either willingly, or by force." Harry explained.
Neville frowned, "I don't suppose she'll do it willingly?"
Harry laughed, but it came out more like a cough.
"No, I don't suppose she will."
Neville looked between the book and Mara, then turned to Harry.
"Alright. Then, leave it to me… but I expect a pardon for this," Neville said.
Harry frowned in confusion.
Neville approached the crumpled and unconscious Mara Greaves. He kicked her wand away, and then pointed his own to her head.
"Renervate."
Almost immediately, Mara stirred. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. She looked around, squinting and confused. She met Neville's glare, but before she could even look for her wand, Neville cast again.
"Imperio!"
Mara relaxed her stance immediately. She stood up, her eyes glassy and distant. There was a slight frown on her face.
"Hurry!" Harry gasped, "I don't know if she can fight it off."
"Lift Harry Potter's curse, now." Neville demanded.
She cocked her head, with a curious expression, then turned and approached the book. Mara began muttering under her breath again. The wind returned, the book glowed.
Streams of blinding white light leaked from the book like eels swimming through the air. Harry watched them all as they approached him and enveloped him. They pushed through his skin causing him to glow with an aura. He saw Neville shield his eyes.
Harry felt warm and tingly; his heart beat a little faster, invigoration filled his chest. He felt a little woozy, but he felt like he could sit up. A few moments later, as the glowing eels turned into floating, fading white stars around him, he felt suddenly… clear.
It was like he had been bogged down by a flu he never knew he had and now he could breathe easy. He stood up, still feeling a little nauseous.
The curse was gone; only his physical exhaustion and pain remained.
"Looks like it worked!" Neville cheered.
Harry nodded; he leaned against the wall, holding his head.
"Yeah, I think it did. Shame it can't heal head wounds."
Harry pulled out two Pepper-Up vials from his mokeskin pouch and drank them both quickly. Harry pointed in the general direction of Mara.
"Get her to sit in the corner or something and tie her up," Harry nodded over to Mara.
"You heard him," Neville barked at Mara, "Move over there."
Neville pointed at some steps with his wand; but Mara didn't move.
Fear clung to Harry's chest like ice.
Harry saw his own wand, ten feet away; Neville's stance was relaxed, his wand in his lowered hand.
"Neville, she's fought it off!" Harry warned.
Neville frowned; Mara was viciously fast.
In mere seconds, she had covered the distance between her and Neville, pulling a sheathed weapon from her waistline.
Harry didn't realise until the third thrust of her arm and Neville's shocked, bulging eyes that Mara had stabbed him repeatedly. Harry counted six thrusts with the knife before Neville fell with a gasp and a thud.
