A Summoner must know of the various kinds of Grimoires and how to effectively invite just those who would serve to his advantage. This chapter provides a detailed list on the different otherworld beings and how to attract certain kinds. But note, dear reader, that speaking an invitation is, and will always be, a roll of dice, so to say. One must brace oneself for the worst, and establish barriers against malevolent Grimoires, described in the following pages.

Hermione felt nervous to read the chapter. She had figured that before she could work out where she stood, and more importantly, how she'd proceed, she first had to know what kind of guests she hosted in her body. Rukh had tried to help, but given her sources it came to no surprise to Hermione that Rukh had no idea where she stood in the world of the living.

The descriptions in the book were beyond the things Hermione expected. She took especially long for the many kinds of angels and the very descriptions of them made her somewhat jealous of the summoners that had the pleasure to meet those creatures. At that thought it felt like seeing Rukh roll her eyes in disapproval and it felt like she held her arms up in mock surrender when Hermione got stuck on a depiction of a seraphim, a six winged angel of the highest order. However, the author quickly noted that summoning a seraphim was only rarely survived and those who lived to tell the tale have gone blind by the light from the seraphim, deaf from its voice and mute from its aura. On a sidenote the author explained the difficult memory spells he used to extract the description from the summoners.

After ten pages of angels, there came twenty pages of demons. From the leviathanian hellspawns that would make any summoner that invites them turn into a mass murderer or worse, to the luzifarian demons that helped summoners reveal the secrets of the world by making them smarter, cunning and tireless. Just like with the angels, there was a point when the author repeatedly added his warnings, even though Hermione kind of figured out for herself that summoning creatures just one or two ranks under Lords of the planes of hell wasn't the most healthy of decisions to make.

After the demons followed spirits which proved to take up more pages than demons and angels combined. Fifty pages were dedicated to the powerful mirror images of all things. Hermione came to a stop when she found the wisp, mirror image of the light and wondered why it didn't connect to her soul when she summoned the little ball of light. Another question she couldn't answer. But for now she would merely make a mental note to look the actual theory of summoning up later. For now she had to identify what kind of otherworlder, as the author called them, Rukh was.

She browsed through the spirits and bookmarked some that were described as mainly benevolent, under it, the Patronus, mirror image of inner strength. However, the picture describing the Patronus was nothing like the silvery animals she knew. She quickly searched for the explanaition of the image.

Depending on ones thought a Patronus can be summoned to either protect or do harm. The experienced summoner might know of the perverted magic developed by the wizards that is called the Patronus charm and channels but happy memories to form into a shield against the ever mysterious dementors. A vile practice that completely misses the point of summoning a patronus. They are guardians of ones desires. If one feels scared, they protect, if one feels anger they hurt, if one feels hate, they kill. Even in things like love they can do wonders by swaying the image others have of the summoner to a more positive one. They are a weapon of choice for templers as well as for the arabians in the current wars for the sacred land and every summoner does good in remembering the invitation.

Hermione had to smile when the Grimoire next to her flew open and right after the wisp summonings, Rukh made place for the Patronus summoning and the first bit of information Hermione had gathered of the, apparently completely misunderstood, Patronus.

She expected the next round of otherworlders to be even bigger, but she found that the last sub-chapter was merely ten pages and that one being took over two pages to explain. She turned back a few pages and read the title of the last group of creatures. The author named them 'gatekeepers' but admitted that it was merely his title for them and many would also call them 'Wardens', 'Voidlings' or 'Wanderers' or simply add them to the family of demons. A few pages in she saw a picture of a pale man with a strip of black cloth over his chest, a wide, flowing mass of cloth around his legs and black stripes from his eyes that faded out at his chin. Rukh sent a wave of excitement to mix with Hermiones own. She quickly looked up the name of the demon and paled when she saw it.

The Necroserva – Gatekeepers to the World of the Dead

Dear reader, if you have found yourself wound up with one of these creatures then rejoice. The Necroserva, as dark as their appearance might seem, are not malevolent by any means, however they also do not hesitate to take over a body if they don't see the summoner fit to be a host. Mild caution is advised.

The Necroservas speciality lies within the most noble and delicate craft of the necromancer due to their ability to inprison souls within the summoners soul, making the use of vessels to carry the most important ingredient for every necromancers ritual, unnecessary.

To Hermiones disappointment the author didn't really know more about Necroserva and instead went on about theories and wild speculation as to what they actually were and how they fit into the broader spectrum of otherworlders with the occasional tip, gathered from single sources.

"Noble and delicate craft of the necromancer..." Hermione murmured to herself. She has read, and more importantly heard, quite a bit about necromancy already. Although, when Hermione really thought about it, all she had really heard was how evil all of it was and all she ever read were counterspells against inferi, wraiths and other undying.

What was even more surprising to her was the fact that she didn't spring up in panic at the news that she had a necromancers demon inside of her. She guessed mostly because Rukh seemed to be as clueless as herself.

"So... a necromancers demon, are you?"

"Gatekeeper, creator. A necromancers gatekeeper." Rukh replied with mock offence in her voice now that she knew that there was a difference. Or at least a choice in wording. "And this one doesn't know. Rukh is actually a bit worried about... storing souls."

Hermione nodded in understanding. She could feel with Rukh on this matter, even if the demon herself was the reason why she could understand. Having a soul within oneself, a stranger tied to ones very essence. Just thinking it felt horrible even if the real deal was, at worst, unpleasant.

"Does creator wish to... understand, to... research?" Ruck asked in her mind and Hermione imagined how her inner conflict must look to the gatekeeper girl. Of course she wanted to research. She always wanted to research.

But when the Ministry despised summoning, a mostly unharmful practice, what would they do to a necromancer? Just thinking it made Hermione shiver. Even if she'd forget the law for a moment, what would Harry and the Order think if they ever found out? She didn't even want to imagine that conversation.

"No..." she said in her mind.

"Lies" Rukh replied.

Hermione sighed as she admit to herself that the demon was once again right about her feelings. She needed to know.

But in her heart she felt her fathers voice becoming a muffled sound and the slightly crazed cheers of curiosity grow louder. The talk of tools and wielders was a pathetic explanation and she knew as well as anybody that she would never even think of wielding necromancy against Voldemort or his Death Eaters. All she wanted was to know. She longed for knowledge to close the gaps in her mind. What could necromancy do? What were the costs? How does one harvest a soul? How does one carry such a precious thing? Eternal Life? Lichs? Banshees? Vampires?

A corner of the Grimoire ripped off and Hermione observed as it flew towards the stack of books in the corner to her left. Two lazy loops and it landed onto the side of a relatively new looking book, buried under tomes and scripture.

"A start, creator. Maybe the end."

"They could sentence me to the Kiss for this."

"They could sentence creator to the Kiss for Rukh."

"No reason to give them even more grounds."

"No reason to stop either."

"What the limit then? Rukh, tell me! Whats the limit? When do we stop?" Hermione asked in anger.

"Creator will stop before harm comes to those she loves. This much, Rukh feels is true. But creator lies to herself if she thinks she will ever find peace without knowing." Rukh answers in a shaky voice that told Hermione of the mental backhand she had just delivered.

With a huff Hermione sprung up, took two steps towards the books and pushed the tomes off the book. Hermione shook her head in mock amusement as she saw the huge picture of a skull on the cover of the book. It was surrounded by bones and depictions of human skeletons. The whole cover basically shouted 'Necromancy'.

'Lazarus, come out!' read the title and Hermione wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of using the biblical quote until she saw the authors name.

Lazarus of Bethany – Akolyte under the Great One, Archmage of the Holy Roman Empire, Knight of the Order of Vultures.

"What the hell?!" she nearly shouted before she restrained herself.

She grabbed the book, hurried back the the desk and opened the book in a rush until she found the date of release.

1901

"That explains the English." Rukh offered, obviously amused at her hosts confusion.

Hermione ignored the demon and skipped through the pages until she found the beginning of the text. 'Introduction' read the title of the chapter and Hermione started to read without a second thought.

Brother, Sister of the Arts of Death. Listen here, for this is my last deed. I am Lazarus of Bethany. I have served under the Great One and have served him after his Ascension and will serve him until my time has come to face the wardens, so I swore, so it shall be. I have withstood the lies of the false testaments and hold onto the one belief, never having found reason to doubt. I stand proud in the middle of the duality of the holy trinity and the nine sinners and fear no light nor darkness, for I have witnessed.

These words are to be my last mark on this world and within these pages dwells the truth of the Arts of Death, a warning and my hopes for this world.

I write them because I fear our noble craft is in danger of pervertion. Dark forces arise and tragedy lies on the horizon. I have seen the ride of the first bringer of the apocalypse countless times. I rode with him more often than I care to admit. The last true war is coming.

I have chosen the most crude language of the Anglo-Saxons, despite my hope in the the ancient and noble nations, born under the Great King, to prevail. My reason to do so is my trust in the All-Seeing Eye of my student and wife, Asha.

Dear brother, dear sister. If you read these words, I am dead. I have lived nearly two thousand years and I would have lived two thousand more, but to achieve what is necessary to prevent the world from the apocalypse, I have to sacrifice everything.

If you read this I beg you to do what is necessary to stop the forces that arise. Dark Ones of the highest order, equals to the likes of Morgana, the line of Sodom or the Burning Children of Kronos. Be wary of their names and do not believe a word of their lies, for they are the ideas that will bring destruction to the world.

Be wary of the names of Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore.

"What. The. Hell?" Hermione whispered in shock. "Didn't he defeat Grindelwald?" she asked herself. Unsure what to make of the information she continued to read, but made sure to take it all with a grain of salt.

Read this as I beg for forgiveness. I have encouraged Charles Darwin to write as he saw fit. I have told him that humanity would understand. They understood when I encouraged Galileo. They know now that they are not the center, I thought that it would do them good to know that they are not sacred.

I was wrong, but I do not possess the power to reverse my foolishness. The world knows now, and it thinks like this. The dark Ones use this knowledge and twist it for their purposes. I see countless cultures perish because the strong ones deem them beneath themselves and there is no worth to their lives anymore, thanks to the theory.

The theory of Evolution takes over societies and they crumble under its weight.

Charles Darwin had planted the seed of hate within the magical societies and I watched helpless as it grew into full bloom. Why didn't I step in when he talked to the noble Houses of Europe? I don't know and I beg you for forgiveness and your assistance. Dispell the notion of Homo magi and Homo sapiens. Even if it is true that we are not of the same kind, one cannot live without the other! If one fails, the other dies with him! The muggles and the magicals are brothers. If you doubt that then at least be assured that we are equal in death and face the same gods.

There is hope at the horizon. After all, we of the Art of Death are strongest while standing in pools of blood and hills of corpses. We are strongest when all seems lost. It is my honest belief and fear that it is us who will deliver the final blow or stand as the last force of good.

If you find yourself willing to fight, join forces with one of the last of my students: Asha bin Alia al-Hashimi, Abraham Goldstein of the House of Goldstein, Ludwig von Landshut, Erwin Potschek, Perenelle Flamel nee de Villanova or Isla Hitchens of the House of Black.

Now read of the wisdom I have gathered through the ages and behold the truth of our most noble Craft. I await you in the Everlands.

Hermione didn't continue to read and started the Introduction chapter all over again. Then she read it a third time. Then a fourth time. Yet, she still couldn't even grasp a string of thought. All she could think about was the combination of things that made no sense, the hints towards the World Wars and how everything seemed to fail to connect.

Trying to understand, she latched onto the things she could order. Perenelle Flamel was someone she had heard about. Gellert Grindelwald was a known factor. What did the headmaster do to make the list with him, even if this book would tells lies?

"Everyone makes mistakes? No?" Rukh offered.

"You need to make a bit more than a mistake to end up side to side with Gellert Grindelwald. The man was a monster. Albus Dumbledore is one of the kindest people I know." Hermione replied.

"And yet he is named." Rukh answered calmly. "What do you really know of Dumbledore? This one sees not much."

"Its more..."

"A feeling? A faint impression? Wishful thinking?"

Hermione stayed silent for nearly a minute, ordering her mind and breathing deeply before she admited "Spot on. Again."

Laying the subject aside, Hermione continued to read past the chapter. She had to admit that she barely understood a word. She could've just read a manual for the construction of a spaceshuttle, it would have produced just as much, if not even more usable information for her.

The author wrote in words she couldn't understand or were without context for her. He sometimes even used words from different languages and letters she knew from the museum of history at best, claiming that the simplistic and rather barbaric language English didn't provide him with enough choice.

She sighed and shut the book close. There would be nothing to gain from it than headache and frustration.

Calling it a night, Hermione left the attic and went to bed as quickly as she could. She spent her dreams discussing her findings with Rukh, with no progress to speak of. They both had to admit that whatever Lazarus of Bethany wanted to tell them, it would be hell to decipher it.