Chapter 19. Azkaban's Secrets
The next morning, at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, the Potters were served another delicious breakfast by Kreacher.
"Master Harry, here's your bacon." Kreacher placed two crispy pieces of bacon on Harry's plate, which was already piled high with scrambled eggs.
"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry mumbled, his mouth full of food.
"So, dear — you're visiting Azkaban today?" said Ginny. Dressed in a white robe, she was now trying to decide between green and yellow robes floating in the air, which one to wear to work. "Which prisoner got you in trouble this time?"
"It's true I have to go, but I don't need to check the prisoners," Harry said, shoveling another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. "I'm going to Azkaban for its own sake. There are secrets in there that might help with the investigation."
Behind Harry, there was the sound of breaking glass; he turned in surprise to find Kreacher sitting next to a broken bottle, spilling milk on the floor.
"Apologies, Master. Kreacher will get it cleaned up right away," said Kreacher as he wiped up the spilled milk with a mop and snapped his fingers to remove the remains of the broken bottle.
"It's okay, take your time," Harry said, turning back to Ginny. Dressed in a yellow robe and carrying a crocodile-skin bag over her shoulder, she had already prepared. "Like yesterday, I'll be home late tonight, so don't wait up for me."
Ginny kissed Harry on both cheeks and said, "Okay, dear. Please don't be careless — I noticed bruises all over your body last night."
"All right, Ginny." Although Harry tried to smile, his mind wandered back to his grim defeat by Eisenbein. To minimize their concerns, he had not yet informed his family of the loss of the Elder Wand. "I'm going to be with Kingsley today. Are you feeling better now?"
"Yes, it's more comforting than when you were with Ron," Ginny giggled and walked out of the kitchen. He felt someone tug on his sleeve as the front door closed and he was about to eat the bacon. Kreacher stood there with his eyes wide open and a grim expression on his face.
"It's not Kreacher's place to interfere with Master's work . . . but must Master go to Azkaban?"
"I cannot help it — my only clue to defeating my foe lies there," said Harry. "What's so wrong with that place anyway?"
"There's a lot of darkness and terror in Azkaban. . . . Master should avoid such a place if he can," the elf said in a trembling voice.
"I'm not going there expecting a nice vacation, either. Kreacher, I think you have frightened yourself by knowing too many scary stories. Like the story of the Vampire Squib that scared Albus back then . . ."
"It was a heroic tale Kreacher told Master Albus, not a scary one!" gasped Kreacher. "The ancestors of the Black family fought bravely against the dreadful Squib, who stole the blood of Wizarding children, and even won spoils from the terrible abomination."
"Yes, I saw the loot with my own eyes. Blood in the crystal bottle, you mean?"
"Yes, Master Harry. It's living proof of the legend." Kreacher nodded vigorously. "But the story of Azkaban . . . not heroic at all! Just dark and creepy!"
"What about all the warnings, Kreacher? Could you please explain?"
"Azkaban is often associated with dementors among our wizard masters," Kreacher said, his voice shaking. "Despite the foulness of those creatures, we house-elves have other minds for Azkaban. . . . Hundreds of years later, the mad house-elf who served the Dark wizard there still remains a source of fear and loathing for our kind."
"I did see a reference to a house-elf in this note." Harry pulled Grindelwald's letter out of his pocket. It mentioned a mad house-elf who was found with the Elder Wand in his hand. "It was reported that he killed some wizards from the Ministry of Magic. . . . Can you tell me anything more about that, Kreacher?"
Only after making sure there was no one else in the kitchen did Kreacher say quietly, "Menetti is the name of the evil elf." Kreacher trembled as he whispered the name. Perhaps Menetti had been a kind of elfish Voldemort that no one among the house-elves wanted to name. "He would torture or kill kidnapped Muggles with the wand borrowed from his master. . . . Although he had to obey his master's orders at first, he grew to enjoy it."
"We humans have our share of lunatics," said Harry, trying to take it lightly.
"But sir, we house-elves are different!" cried Kreacher as he grabbed him by the sleeve. "It is almost impossible for an elf to be so corrupted! A terrible curse from ancient times hangs over Azkaban. . . . Master Harry must be very careful when he travels there."
"Okay, Kreacher. I'll make myself aware when I get there," Harry said quietly as he looked into Kreacher's huge, pleading eyes. The house-elf finally nodded in relief and left the kitchen to do other things.
Menetti, the mad house-elf, came to Harry's mind as he finished eating the cold food on his plate. Perhaps because of his evil deeds, the wizards had become more sensitive to the house-elves' use of wands in recent days. It made him bitter to think of Winky, the poor house-elf who had suffered all kinds of hardships because her master had accused her of holding Harry's wand on the night of the Quidditch final.
Harry had just stepped out of the kitchen in his dark woollen cloak when the doorbell rang, and then Kreacher blocked Harry's way to the door. "Master Harry, promise Kreacher one thing — that Master will never delve too deeply into Azkaban's secrets."
"All right, Kreacher," said Harry solemnly. "I promise."
Kreacher hesitated, then stepped aside. A middle-aged gentleman with a fedora and a handsome moustache greeted Harry at the front door.
"Dear Mr. Porter, how are you?" the gentleman said in a hoarse voice, extending his hand.
"Teddy, this isn't fun."
The man's beard grew shorter, the gray hair returned to its original sandy color, and Teddy's young face with a bright smile was soon visible under the fedora.
"Why? You told me to come disguised as a Muggle!"
"Your disguise would have worked a century ago, but now? No way."
Teddy threw his hat away with a glum look as Harry smirked.
"Now — wait a minute." Harry raised his wand and pointed it at his godson. "Impervius!"
"Wow, I felt cool all over. What was that?"
"I've just made you waterproof; you'll find it quite useful. Your robes will now repel rainwater," Harry said as he cast the same spell on himself. "It's never been sunny in Azkaban — this will definitely help. Now, are you ready?"
"Of course, Harry."
Harry and Teddy jumped and spun around in the air. The filthy street in front of them disappeared, and a few minutes later, a cold, desolate island appeared in its place. Balancing his feet on the damp, slippery rock, Harry was careful not to fall. The chill from the raindrops falling from the black clouds that had enveloped the dark sky penetrated his skin, despite the water-repelling charm.
Compared to this place, even the dirty streets of Grimauld Place seemed like paradise. Harry's eyes were then drawn to the black towers that rose from the magnificent citadel of Azkaban. Along the rough road carved out of the rock, the two of them reached the main entrance, relying on each other. A hooded guard recognized Harry's face and quickly opened the thick iron gates, and the two almost ran into them.
The entrance hall of the prison was as spacious as the one at Hogwarts, but with dark stone walls and a few dim torches, the hall looked incomparably bleak and gloomy compared to the one at Hogwarts. Since it wasn't raining inside, Harry could at least bear it a little better. Under the stairs leading to the upper floors, a tall, broad-shouldered black wizard was waiting, wearing a single gold earring in his ear.
"Harry, how have you been?" said Kingsley Shacklebolt in a deep, slow voice that rarely failed to put others at ease. Looking younger than his actual age, he did not seem so different from the appearance Harry had known as a child.
"I've seen worse days, Kingsley," said Harry, and the two shook hands. It didn't matter how upsetting recent events had been, being around Kingsley gave him a sense of comfort.
"It's been a while since I last saw you, young Lupin." Kingsley nodded at Teddy this time.
"Good morning, Mr. Shacklebolt," said Teddy shyly. Even he, who was usually free spirited, seemed to be forced to be polite around Kingsley.
"Please follow me, gentlemen — I have tea ready in my office."
Kingsley led Harry and Teddy up the wide staircase in the hall. On each floor there were corridors filled with barred cells and Aurors patrolling the area in front of them. It was not as terrifying and hopeless as when the dementors had guarded the place, but the dim corridors, lit only by a few torches, still had a sinister feel to them. The surveillance increased as they went upstairs, and because of the reduced lighting, Harry was unable to see the dark cells in detail.
"This floor houses the Death Eaters and their key associates," Kingsley said in a muffled voice. "For fear of influencing the other prisoners, I have separated them here."
Harry thought he saw the familiar face of a toad-like woman among the prisoners, but he ignored it and kept climbing. They finally reached the top floor and Kingsley led them to the governor's office, which was alone in the corridor. Similar to Hermione's office, the walls were lined with shelves full of books, and a desk was placed in front of a window looking out at the inclement weather outside. Steam was billowing from a teapot in the fireplace. Kingsley swung his wand to make comfy armchairs for Harry and Teddy and sat down behind his desk.
"So, Harry — what could be the reason for our hero's personal visit?" Kingsley asked, pouring tea from the kettle into cups. "You stated in your letter that you were visiting for purposes other than inspecting prisoners."
"That is correct. As long as you're the governor here, I don't have to worry about riots or escapes," Harry said after taking a sip of tea. "I'm currently working on a much older subject. I visited Azkaban to learn more about its founder, Ekrizdis."
An eerie silence fell over the room. Suddenly, Kingsley stood up, took a thick book from the shelf and placed it in front of Harry.
"Have you read this book?"
Harry quietly opened the cover and looked at the contents. It listed all sorts of terrible curses and poisons, and various methods of creating Dark objects.
"No, but it looks very dangerous."
"You will find in this book a collection of the Dark Arts that Ekrizdis made himself or learned elsewhere. . . . While many Dark wizards reach Azkaban as their final destination, it is also an endless source of inspiration that drove them to the Dark Side in the first place," said Kingsley solemnly. He then turned the pages to reveal a delicate drawing of an elaborate looking device with an hourglass in the center. "Ekrizdis invented the first Time-Turner; your son misused one of its copies and gave us a hard time two years ago. Shortly before his death, Ekrizdis conducted a thorough research on advanced Dark Magic. During that time, many things were created that would cause generations of wizards to suffer."
"Azkaban is even more terrifying than it looks," Teddy said, his face filled with worry and fear. "I never thought it was possible."
"Now, Kingsley — let me tell you why I am here," Harry said, and then he told Kingsley about Eisenbein's plot and the Fourth Curse. ". . . Ekrizdis may have been involved in the Fourth Curse, and this is the only lead we have so far."
Kingsley picked up the teapot again and refilled the three cups while sitting deep in thought. "What do you know about witch hunts in the medieval times, Harry?"
"Er — as much as others would know about it . . ." Harry blinked a few times at the unexpected question. "Oh, I remember writing an essay about how pointless it had been for Muggles to try to hunt and burn witches and wizards. The point was that only those who had nothing to do with magic were hurt, as our kind could easily escape even if caught."
"Good, Harry — you have done your homework well. Hogwarts students are supposed to learn what you just said, according to the Ministry approved curriculum." Looking into Harry's eyes, Kingsley went on, "However, what you know is incorrect. The History of Magic classes at Hogwarts only teach students what they need to believe, not necessarily what is actually true . . ."
"Hermione used to say similar things about the subject: As she put it, history books could be highly biased and selective," said Harry sourly. "Then again — why did the Ministry make us believe that medieval witch hunts were pointless?"
"The exact cause is unknown. Records have been lost and those involved are long dead," Kingsley leaned back against the seat and said calmly. "So keep in mind that this is mostly based on my wild guesses and assumptions. . . . As you know, I became Minister of Magic after Voldemort was brought down. The first thing I did was lift all the taboos set by the Death Eaters. For example, the name Voldemort itself had been a taboo and could not be spoken aloud. I was almost killed when I accidentally said that name, and I heard that you had faced a similar hardship. "
Harry nodded in agreement; his friends and he had once been captured and taken to Malfoy Manor by his accidental mention of the name.
"In the process, I discovered several taboos that had been established by the Ministry of Magic since ancient times . . . and I was intrigued by one in particular," said Kingsley. "It was something called the Fourth Curse, which I was unaware of; the most advanced Record Obliteration Jinxes had been placed upon it. Perhaps that's why it was sometimes referred to as the THING-THAT-MUST-NOT-BE-WRITTEN."
"When I wrote about it on parchment, everything was erased — now I know why," Harry said as he recalled the events of the previous night. "This curse seemed to have the same notoriety as Voldemort."
"Yes, that's true. I was naturally intrigued by the Fourth Curse, so I searched for more information. It wasn't easy, of course — the curse was burdened with many jinxes, making it difficult to find any direct documents about it."
"What does this have to do with the witch-hunts, Mr. Shacklebolt?" asked Teddy, who seemed engrossed in the story.
"Hear me out. I have developed a hypothesis based on rumors and folk tales from the Middle Ages: The witch hunts were actually led by the witches themselves, not by ignorant Muggle priests or peasants. In Europe, a group of witches steeped in Dark magic created bizarre phenomena, such as rain made of frogs, or showed themselves flying on broomsticks to frame innocent Muggle widows and have them burned alive.
"The purpose of such terrible deeds was one and only: To use the Dark energy of the souls of those who had died on false charges to create the most terrible curse that had ever existed. Unlike other curses, which usually destroy a single person's body or mind, this new curse would have the potential to ruin the entire world if misused. . . ."
Harry glanced at his godson sitting next to him. His complexion was paler than when he had been out in the cold rain and wind.
"Fortunately, the curse was rarely used. Wizards and witches created the Ministry of Magic in its earlier form to control their evil deeds; eventually they defeated the evil witches and destroyed all records of the curse," said Kingsley. "They also coined the concept of the Three Unforgivable Curses to hide its existence . . ."
"You mean to hide the Fourth Curse, they created the Unforgivable Curses?"
Kingsley nodded at Teddy's question.
"I came to that conclusion after analyzing various records. Once they had officially named three Unforgivable Curses out of all the curses that had existed at the time, people stopped thinking that a worse one could ever arise — just as they had intended. In a sense, this means that the term 'Fourth Curse' is somewhat inaccurate. . . . Anyway, whatever it's called, the curse has disappeared from known history, though there's a chance that the spell may have survived by word of mouth within old families. Having found out that much, I couldn't find any new information, no matter how hard I searched the old documents at the Ministry of Magic. So I almost forgot about the Fourth Curse . . . until I took charge here at Azkaban.
"I was given access to the reports and documents here when I became governor of the prison. The former owner of this fortress, Ekrizdis, was of particular interest to me. I am not sure if he was planning to conquer the magical world or if he had some other evil purpose. . . . In any case, he became fascinated with the Fourth Curse and began to explore its possibilities. Many Muggle ships were wrecked around this island, all for Ekrizdis's research. . . . To gain knowledge of the Fourth Curse, he kidnapped sailors, tortured them with the Dark Arts and performed horrible experiments on them."
Harry took Grindelwald's letter from his pocket and spread it out on the desk, remembering something.
"This is the letter I mentioned earlier; according to it, Ekrizdis sought the Deathly Hallows to control the Fourth Curse."
Kingsley grabbed the letter and read it.
"That makes sense. Extremely unstable as it is, the Fourth Curse, if used improperly, can put the caster in considerable danger — Ekrizdis must have thought he could control it by becoming the master of Death. In fact, the curse itself was created by the negative energy generated by the unjust deaths, so there may be some truth to this hypothesis. . . . However, there's no way to verify this."
"Maybe we'll find out soon," Teddy said in a depressed voice. "Eisenbein has already collected two Deathly Hallows."
"He'll never find the third," Harry reassured his godson and turned to Kingsley. "Thank you, Kingsley. You've taught me much more about the Fourth Curse than I ever hoped. Still, I don't know the most important thing, which is —"
"What exactly does the curse do? Unfortunately, I couldn't find it either. "
A deep sigh of disappointment escaped Harry's lips as he shook his head. Even though he had come this far, he hadn't been able to find the most important information. He could not confront Eisenbein without knowing how the Fourth Curse worked. Then Kingsley tapped on the desk, drawing attention to himself.
"But it is too soon to give up. There's a vast cave under this castle that Ekrizdis used as a laboratory in his later years. There's a good chance that the old Ministry investigation team didn't look there, because of the dementors infesting it, of course."
"Dementors?" asked Teddy, obviously frightened. As a person of the postwar generation, he had only heard horror stories about these foul creatures and had no direct experience. "You mean — they're still down here?"
"Yes, lots of them. Their nest is down in the cave," said Kingsley darkly. "After the war, I started replacing the guards at Azkaban with my Aurors, which the dementors did not like at all. I took part in the battle to drive them out . . . and those days still come back in my worst nightmares. Two Aurors went mad, while another's soul was sucked out by a kiss, leaving him an empty shell. Dementors persisted, despite the sacrifices we'd made to drive them out. Keeping them at bay in the underground cavern was my only option."
"So we're going to —" Harry said, and Kingsley stared at him with a hardened expression.
"Yes, we have to get into the cave under the castle — into the dementors' nest. It's the only way we can find out more about the Fourth Curse."