Darcie couldn't fathom why the weekend ended so fast.
Her Saturday dissolved into flying broomsticks all day long with Draco, trying to counter the new move he had developed. It turned out he hadn't faked the boast that Darcie won't be able to catch him, especially using only the Comet 220.
The Malfoy Manor had lit up with the children's shouts, Narcissa's warnings and concerned shrieks, and Dobby's cheery hoorays.
Lucius had returned late that night, so the father and daughter spent the entire Sunday brewing potions.
Potioneering required precise spellwork which Darcie could only do using a wand, and that too only her mother's. She had tried using her father's, but the results weren't satisfactory.
Her constant practice of Wandless Magic, unknown to her parents, was coming closer to casting spells verbally, using a wand. But, like the overgrown transfigured gold coin, the Control still fluctuated now and then.
When she wasn't studying, Darcie had visited the many portraits of ancient wizards in the Long Galley on the 2nd floor of the Manor, asking for the myth of he book — Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue.
Only on Sunday evening, just a few hours before her departure, did she get to know something substantial.
…
"Good evening, professor," Darcie greeted the ancient witch. "I am incredibly sorry to disturb you so."
"Humph!" the witch in the portrait scoffed. "Nonsense. Any Malfoy can approach me in need. Especially you dear. Tell me, how many mudbloods have you interacted with recently?"
There was a nasty sneer on her face as she mentioned the muggles.
Professor Elizabeth Burke was a witch and headmistress of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before 1925. She was a hardcore Pure-Blood Supremacist, and it was clear to say that she hated muggles and their presence in the Wizarding Community.
Now, this was not the only portrait that belonged to a Headmaster or Headmistress of the Magical Schools in Britain. But it was the most special.
Professor Burke, when she was still alive and well, had gifted this portrait to her great-grandfather Septimus II Malfoy personally.
In terms of sentience and living characteristics, this portrait was only second to her portrait in the Headmaster's office of Hogwarts, her father had told Darcie many times.
And Darcie, as composed and reserved as she was, was used to sharing a great deal of life with the portraits in the Long Gallery, where she spent most of her time since she could remember.
Greatness had many faces. These portraits were just a few of its appearances.
"Not one," Darcie told her calmly.
Professor Burke's chest swelled with pride. She nodded at her, and said, "Well, out with dear. Ask away?"
Darcie briefly told her the things she had learned last Friday and mentioned her interest in learning more about the book.
The old witch observed Darcie from beyond the living realm. "Hmm," she hummed, looking thoughtful. "Your mentor told you the truth of it, dear."
Darcie's eyes were shining with curiosity.
More wizards and witches had left their portraits and were gathering around the nearby portraits to listen.
Professor Burke looked around, narrowing her eyes, but ignored them. Her eyes found Darcie then, and a smile surfaced on her face. "What do you know about North Berwick?" she asked, the hint of a test trickling in her tone. "I hope our little prodigy hasn't gone soft after leaving home."
The others nodded.
Darcie didn't know what the late headmistress was talking about. "I know that the place is most famous for its Witch Trials in the late 16th Century, around 1590-92," she told them. "But the Witch Trials are easily faked using Flame-freezing charm…"
"Not these, my dear," Professor Burke cut off, looking satisfied with the answer. "North Berwick Witch Trials weren't ordinary in nature, because they were held by the wizard population."
Darcie opened her mouth in astonishment. Not even the book, Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue: the Magical Truth, mentioned anything related to it. What was going on?
"Now, I won't call them Dark Wizards and Witches," the Professor continued, "but call them stupid, I would. The said group held their coven on the Auld Kirk Green, performing the darkest ritual wizardkind had seen in those times.
"To thwart the incoming James VI, who was sailing towards North Berwick then, (-yes, dear, the author of the book in our discussion-), they had brewed potions, creating a rough storm in the North Sea. Alas! The ritual was forced to an end midway by the Ancient Wizard, who is supposed to have helped James VI create the Book."
The mystery was thickening in the cauldron, full of Darcie's thoughts.
Yet, it troubled her, imagining what could be dark enough for even wizardkind to put their own at trial.
"What was this ritual, professor?" Darcie asked with childish fanaticism. "What were they hoping to achieve?"
Professor Burke smiled mischievously at her. "Death!" She spat the word like a dagger. "They were invoking Death itself, my dear. It is said that Satan himself attended the ritual. Muggle talk! What one could expect? It was Death beyond doubt they were invoking, I say. Well, it could've been the truth, had the ritual been completed in time."
Death… Darcie repeated the word. Was there truly something, someone called Death in this world?
Her puzzlement was so clear on her face that Professor Burke turned her expression into words. "Why invoke Death, you are thinking, right?" she asked, smiling. "Darcie, my dear, can't you recall anything related to Death?"
Darcie's eyes shot open, the dark green color looking even more poisonous. "The Deathly Hallows!" she blurted. "Aren't they just a myth, professor?"
The old witch shrugged stately. "There is a thin line separating myths and realities, my dear," she told her. "Some say that the entire purpose of writing Daemonologie was to hide the magical ritual held by that coven as coded language. Only by getting the Book one would know the truth, I think. You are just asking these for research purposes, though, right?"
Darcie almost smiled. "Of course," she said. "I must go now, professor. How will I ever thank you for imparting me with such knowledge?"
Professor Burke flicked her hand at her. "Go, go," she shushed, looking pleased. "There is no need to thank me. Just don't let mudbloods approach you, dear. They have a nasty smell about them."
"I will keep that in mind, professor," Darcie nodded and walked away.
The words Death and Deathly Hallows kept ringing in her ears for long, though.
***************
AN: Now you can access 15 Chapters of Chaos and Order ahead of Webnovel on Patre0n (including up to 60 montly chapters). If you would like to access the exclusive content, while simultaneously supporting the fanfic, then do consider becoming a Patron
Bonus Chapter Deal - 70 Power Stones per day: +1 Bonus Chapter