Love-A Dramione Story

Ch. 23 The Spirit World

 Ch 23 The Spirit World    or Ghostly Dimensions

Draco’s POV

I plopped down on the couch next to myself and put my head in my hands. “This sucks.” I muttered to myself. I had absolutely no freaking idea what I was supposed to be doing. ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘Sitting here won’t accomplish anything.’ I forced myself to get up. “Think, Draco.” I grumbled. “Think.” I knew it probably had something to do with Lucius, Alkannon, and the Deatheaters. If I could find Lucius then maybe I could figure it out… Well, I didn’t have any better plans than that, so I set out (well, ghostly apparated out) to the cell/dungeon/room thing that I had seen Lucius and the Deatheaters in. That sounds like the name of a band. Lucius and the Deatheaters. I smirked as I walked through the cold, damp room.

The door was unlocked, thankfully, and I followed a dimly lit hallway into a different area. This was more brightly lit, and it smelled phenomenal. There were dishes of food being prepared by terrified looking house elves, which I knew would make Hermione flip, but there was no one else in sight. As I walked past the elves, they turned towards me, as if they could sense me, but could not see me, then started whispering about ghosts. I walked on, into another hallway, but this one had rooms coming off of it. I put my hand on the doorknob, and to my horror found that my hand went straight through it.

“Oh that is weird.” I frowned. I carefully stepped through the door and peered inside. There was a man sleeping in the bed, but he had dark black hair, the exact opposite color of Lucius’. I checked the next room, and the room after, and the room after that. No luck. I went to the end of the corridor and opened that door. I assumed that it would lead to another big room like the kitchens, or another long hallway, but this was a small-ish room, and smack dab in the middle of it was Lucius, chained down to a chair, with a new man that I didn’t know prodding him with a wand and muttering incantations. Every so often Lucius would spasm and mutter a word or two. My god. They were trying to bring him back. Hesitantly, I stepped closer.

The man who was working on him had dull brown greasy hair, about shoulder length, and brown eyes. Rather average looking, to be honest, except for his overly large nose (quite a bit like Snape’s) and a jagged scar running across his face from left eyebrow down across his face to his lip. I looked back to Lucius. His hair, dirty, matted, and unwashed fell across his face. His once bright blue intelligent (and evil) eyes were dulled over, and, all in all, he looked terrible. As I peered at him, he lifted his head and looked straight at me.

“Draco.” he muttered. I gasped and stepped back. The man next to him stopped his spells and looked at him. “Draco.” he said again. The man pulled out a notebook and scrawled “Keeps saying Draco.” I glanced back to Lucius.

“You can see me.” It was a statement, more than a question.

“I… I see you.” The man scribbled this down too.

“The Dementors made me see.” he continued. Whatever this guy had done to him, he was much more talkative than last time. Then he froze up, his back arched, his mouth wide open in a silent scream. “They’ve taken it.” he gasped. “It’s gone.”

“What?” I asked, then, when he didn’t respond, practically screamed, “What’s gone? What have they taken?”

“They’ve taken it to the Plutonian Shore.”

“What?” I mumbled, confused. “Where the hell is that?!” Then he head lolled forward and he was still. I frowned and searched my memory for the phrase. “Plutonian Shore, Plutonian Shore.” It seemed familiar, like I’d heard it somewhere a long time ago. “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!” I smiled as the words came back to me. It was a pretty popular phrase from the poem “The Raven.” But why would Lucius say that they had taken it to the Plutonian Shore? I knew that the Plutonian Shore meant Hell, but I doubt that they could get there. ‘Wait…’ I thought. Plutonian could refer not to Hell, but the Underworld, like, legitimately Pluto, the Roman god of death and the Underworld. They were all ghosts down there, right? So maybe he was more implying that they found a way to put whatever it was into another dimension; one of ghosts. That means that if anyone human tried to move whatever it was, or even try to find it, they would most definitely fail. Maybe they have some ghosts working for them… Or maybe they found a way to separate their souls from their bodies sort of like what happened to me. But the first was more likely. So I was looking for something that only existed in one dimension.

Now where would they put that? I thought for a moment. Where would the two dimensions be strongest? As I thought about this, I realized that I felt a slight pull in one direction, like I was being drawn to a magnet. “Well, that’s probably it.” I decided, and walked towards the pull. It became stronger as I got closer, until it was so strong that I was actually being pulled to it. A few feet ahead of me, where the pull seemed to be coming from, was a box. It was a simple metal box, no lock, no nothing. Probably because they knew (well, thought) no one could get in. I flipped the lid, and inside was another box. What was it with people and boxes? Seriously. This one was locked, and there wasn’t a key in sight. I picked up the box, which was surprisingly heavy, though small, and slipped it in my pocket. As soon as it was in, I felt that familiar headachey, nauseating (though very welcoming, because I knew what happens after) feeling, and I felt myself whizzing through space, back to my body.

With a gasp, my eyes opened and I could once again move my body. “Draco!” Hermione said, her voice full of concern. “You were out for an hour and a half!” I sat up and groaned.

“It was NOT fun.” She gave me a hug.

“What happened this time?” As quickly as I could, I explained the story. Remembering the box in my pocket, I felt around for it, and sure enough it was there. I held it out to her and she examined it, casting spells on it every so often.

“It’s impervious to magic.” she decided. “You need a key.” And that’s when I remembered that I did in fact have a key. I dug around in my other pocket and found that ridiculous wooden key. Hermione handed me back the box and I carefully slipped the lock inside it. With a sharp click the key slid into place. I held my breath as I slowly turned the key. Sure enough, the lock clicked open. I lifted the lid to it and reached my hand inside.