The Curse of the Eberbachs

by Heather Sparrows and Anne-Li

Part 30: Birthday! B-Day (1985). Afternoon of May 14th to Morning of May 15th

May 14th, 1985. 5:00 p. m.

Severus Snape put back the "St" volume of the "Who Was Who In The Wizarding World" (101 volumes, still growing). Unfortunately, the hefty book had not provided too much information on Mr Stubbins's work, nothing, in fact, Snape had not read in other places already. It had, though, yielded valuable information regarding Stubbins's descendants: He had married one Cassandra Ravendale in 1590. The Ravendales still were a very wealthy and influential family of pureblood wizards. Snape's own grandmother on his mother's side had been a Ravendale before marrying Tullius Severus Prince ... More interesting, however, was that Thomasin and Cassandra Stubbins had begotten a daughter, Donata, who had married one Alastair Malfoy. The Malfoys were very proud of their pure bloodline – as had been the Ravendales and the Princes, up to the day when Eileen, precious daughter of Morgana and Tully Prince, had gotten herself knocked up by a good-for-nothing Muggle named Tobias Snape ...

The product of this unfortunate event now sniffed and gave the heavy tome a last push to locate it properly on the shelf where it belonged, when a smaller book toppled from a higher shelf and hit his head before it fell to the ground. Angrily, Snape snatched it from the floor to put it back, when he read the front page. He whistled.

"So I found you ... I did the Accio and you wouldn't come. Let's see how you are protected ..."

Carefully, he put the book on a nearby table and scanned it with his wand. Finding nothing suspicious, he sat down and began to read the old, mouldy pages: "Thomasin Stubbins – Quotations, Annotations, Personal Diary In Fragments, published and edited by Aurelius Sheepshave, London, 1785." Quickly, he flipped through the small book. One passage he read more closely.

'... Cassandra demands that we have our portraits done, but unfortunately, there will only be money for the portrait of the Master of the House.' ... Pompous prick ... but – portrait?

He consulted his pocket watch.

Time for tea with the Malfoys. Very convenient ...

Snape hurriedly left the library and hastened to the boundaries of Hogwarts, where he disapparated.

May 14th, 1985. 7:00 p. m.

Bodily, Dorian was completely exhausted. Ten hours of walking in the rain through the wonderful British countryside could do this to you. He had walked with "Major" to put his own mind to rest. In vain.

While his body had slid through mud and splashed through puddles, he had endlessly turned over the situation in his mind. There simply was no parallel in human experience to be found for what would maybe happen during the coming night ... The change would probably come at night, because Klaus's change into a dog had happened during the night. Perhaps right at midnight. Midnight was a classic time for these kinds of transformations, at least in fairytales. Midnight or sunrise ... Professor Snape had said so, and Bonham had agreed. Apparently that was when the magic worked the easiest for a wizard to set the curse. There was nothing comparable: Human experience might comprise quick deaths: a plane crash, a car accident, a bullet ... On the opposite, one might witness a loved one slowly die from cancer, lose his bodily and mental capacities through Alzheimer's disease, a stroke, a mental illness ... But going to bed one night and waking up the next morning with someone – in this case Klaus, Klaus von dem Eberbach, Iron Klaus – gone forever, knowing that the beautiful Doberman who trotted next to him tomorrow would be an ordinary dog, would likely never remember that he once had been a human – said Iron Klaus? Dorian found they faced a fairly original fate; and his cheeks were not only wet from the rain ...

I love you so much, he thought. But you, one of the bravest men in the world, still do not want to face the fact that you are attracted to your own sex ... If perhaps not to me, though ... Or not enough to me ...?

May 14th, 1985. 7:30 p. m.

"Oh show us the way to the next whisky bar," James sang while going over the books. "Oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why ..."

"James, 'ave you seen the Earl?"

"For if we don't find the next whisky bar ..." The accountant stopped singing and looked at the big grandfather clock he could see through the open door in the hall.

"He went out for a walk with Major this morning, that's when I saw him last. Don't tell me he isn't back yet!"

Bonham shook his head.

"'E ain't. Still on 'is walk, then. And I can't say I loike it. 'S too long even for one of 'is walks with Major."

James switched off his Casio Mini.

"It's the Major's birthday, tomorrow?" he asked.

Bonham nodded.

For a moment, the two men looked at each other.

"Fetch the car," James finally said.

Bonham hurried. If James did not say anything about wasting fuel and wearing off the engine and the tyres by pointlessly driving around looking for the Earl and the Major, he must have similar misgivings ...

May 14th, 1985. 7:45 p. m.

Dorian could have walked on forever, not to face the coming night where he would lose the Major ... Darkness had begun to fall, and finally he thought about returning to the castle. However, "Major" was nowhere to be seen. Lost in his thoughts, Dorian had not paid attention to where Klaus had gone, when and where he might have left his side and wandered off. He had of course not always remained close to Dorian through all the hours of their long walk, but he had never been too far away, always returned after a short while.

Dorian called, "Major?", then "Klaus?" and listened. The sound of a tawny owl, faint and trembling. The wind, rustling the tree branches and moving the leaves. The still falling rain, dripping water. But no sound of a big dog breaking through the underbrush.

Dorian whistled, then called again. Nothing. Silence ...

The Earl felt a sob arise in his throat.

"What is this, Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach?" he called. "Chickening out? Feigheit vor dem Feind? * Where are you, Soldier?"

No sound, no answer ... An idea occurred to Dorian and he froze. He could see it so clearly ... The next road was approximately five miles away, no distance for a Doberman ... And then ... waiting for a car to approach ... most of the village youths were reckless drivers, going much too fast ... if a big dog suddenly ran into the road in the darkness, right in front of a car, even a cautious driver would be unable to brake in time ... What if Klaus simply had given up and decided he would rather die while still in possession of his human consciousness, of his own free will?

Oh Lord ...

Dorian turned right, into the direction of the road. Despite the dark, the cold and the rain, despite his exhaustion, Dorian ran as hard as he could, shouting as he went. He was crying openly now. Every few hundred metres, he stopped to whistle and to call the Major. Nothing ...

"Major!" he shouted, "I love you! Why do you do this to me? Don't you dare to give up, Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach! Don't you dare!"

It briefly occurred to him that he must sound rather stupid, but who would hear him anyway? And besides, he did not care ...

The road came into view, lit by some street lamps and the lights of cars passing by ... Traffic flowed unhindered ... no car seemed to have crashed into a tree or collided with another car, no remains of a dead dog on the road, at least in this section ...

May 14th, 1985. 8:30 p. m.

Hagrid threw a dead mouse into a dark corner of his hut, where a feeble mewling changed into a greedy smacking.

The half-giant threw another dead mouse, this time not so far. A fat, almost naked, four-legged creature the size of a rabbit, with a flat snout, a round skull, small ears, and the beginnings of a promising set of teeth in its wide mouth came waddling from the dark corner and grabbed the mouse, devouring it quickly.

Hagrid looked at the carnivorous creature as proud as a loving mother.

"Ah, yer fur's begun ter grow, Charlie," he said gently. "Two months, and yeh'll be th' fright of th' Ferbidden Forest. A king among Tree Rollers. Th' females will be after yeh, ter be sure ..."

An imperious knock at the door. Hagrid knew only one person who knocked that commandingly and impatiently.

The young Tree Roller scuttled back into its dark corner, when the half-giant opened the door and Severus Snape strode in. Behind him, a wide, flat packet, covered in waxed canvas, swept through the door and settled into one of the oversized chairs.

"Evenin', Professer," Hagrid said, looking curiously at the packet.

Snape pushed back his hood and shook the rain out of his robe. He waved his hand, and the canvas removed itself from the packet, uncovering a small painting. The portrait of a fair-haired, rather haughtily-looking young man, now blinking into the dim light.

"Meet Mr Stubbins," Snape said.

end part 30, 8:30 p.m..


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