Chapter 5: Black Deeds

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It was counted as good luck for the grieving Weasleys, to have such well-timed fortune.

They used their prize to travel to Egypt, one of the top magical tourist destinations what with so much of the wonder hidden from muggle eyes and thus away from muggle crowds. A perfect way to find a distraction for a family lost and reeling.

But it wasn't good fortune at all; for in a dark gloomy cell, one man howled in fury.

1994

Hermione sat and watched Harry work.

He leaned back in his chair, the staff held gently in both hands, the rubies glowing faintly with eerie light.

And on the floor, fire bloomed in random shapes and patterns, twisting across the thin wood laid out for the purpose, carving out symbols faster than any metal in human hands could hope to match.

When he was done, a perfect ritualistic pentagram lay carved there, the proper symbols in place as the book had instructed them.

Hermione had taught Harry the symbols on raised disks, running his hand gently over each arch and angle until he knew every single one.

"Now, the beads." Harry reminded her gently, and she sprang to her feet, flushing, to retrieve the small glass marbles she had obtained from a toy store down the street. She put each in a triangle and stepped back, watching as once more Harry began to work his magic, not a finger moving, not a word from his mouth.

The glass became stones of different colors and shapes, ruby, emerald, diamond, opal, citrine, quartz, and jasper. Hermione stepped forward to check each one, making sure they had the right hardness against her scientific scale to be proper gems.

"They're correct." She said softly, feeling a flare of pride at the lack of a stutter.

She was getting better.

"Now, to see if it works." Harry stood, his staff hitting the ground with a solid thunk, the rubies atop it flaring in response; and Hermione saw the object in the center of the pentagram begin to form from empty air.

The stones began to burn; the symbols illuminating to gleaming light. The object began to solidify into a shape.

A moving, lithe shape, a feline whose form flickered with shadows as it paced.

Harry sighed, and the cat became solid, the gems disappeared, and the symbols on the wood collapsed back into nothingness.

The pentagram and any sign of it was gone, all that was left was the overly large cat, its fur bushy, its eyes alight with agitation, its tail whipping to and fro.

Hermione bit her lip. "What do we d-do with it now?"

Harry laughed. "You see him too? How does he look? Normal?"

She eyed the creature. "Normal enough. Black fur, white markings on his paws, kind of like a manicure... um, when girls paint their nails? His tail has three rings of white on it, a bit odd but not abnormal." The cat hissed at her as she stepped towards him. "H-his eyes are green, normal scale, his teeth... ah, look normal. H-h-he's not happy to be here."

Harry grinned towards where she stood. "He appears just like a normal cat to me too, brownish red light, slight alteration on his pattern with an extra spiral over his chest, but that could be typical. We will see if the pentagram conjuration helps him remain solid past the customary twenty-four hours."

"And... if he does?" Hermione asked warily, suddenly unsure of the outcome if their experiment on prolonging semi-sentient life forms past the typical expiration period of a day and night worked.

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