The Curse of the Eberbachs

A few days passed without any change of the situation. No one had any ideas to contribute. After Dorian had kissed Klaus without bringing about the effect so strongly desired by both of them, the atmosphere at Castle Gloria was rather tense. Dorian had fallen into one of his melancholic moods, Klaus seemed even more restless and irritable than usual. At other times, it seemed as if he had resigned to his fate. It did not help that James, whom Bonham had informed about the curse – with the Major's reluctant agreement, and only because, due to the Earl's blunder, he knew already half of the story anyway - asked every hour or so whether they "had heard anything from the wizard". Dorian had told Bonham what he had learned from Klaus's relative, and the Cockney had immediately informed Snape via Hagrid. The wizard answered that these were valuable hints about a family curse indeed. He would try to find out what might break this kind of curse. He had, however, not specified how long his research might take.

Dorian was reclining in the library on his favourite divan, reading. Klaus slept next to him, curled up, his head on his hind paws, resting from an eight hour walk Bonham and the Earl had made with him to keep him occupied. Sometimes he growled in his sleep, and his paws moved.

Is he chasing game in dog form, or Neo Nazis and enemy spies as a human? Dorian asked himself. Who knows?

Bonham came in with a tea tray, James on his heels, put the tray on the table next to Dorian and began to clean out the fireplace.

"It's not especially chilly for May, " he remarked. "You won't waste wood on a fire now, Bonham?"

"The wizard communication system," Bonham patiently explained. "It 'asn't bin used in a while, so I better clean and open it, bein' prepared should Professer Snape try t'be in contact."

Bonham went on cleaning out the old ashes, muttering something in a low voice, and the Earl returned to his book. He became aware that for the last ten minutes or so, he had not understood a word of what he had been reading.

"You're having me on, Bonham," he accused the Cockney. "It's just an ordinary fireplace. And I don't believe in Santa Claus any mo – Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

When severely frightened, James did not drop what he held in his hands, he hurled it at what might possibly attack him.

"How considerate," a deep, silken voice said. "How kind to receive me with a cup of tea. Thank you."

Severus Snape's tall, thin figure stepped from the fireplace. Hovering in front of him were the cup and saucer of the Earl's Louis Seize China James had thrown. A bit behind the cup hung the stream of hot tea, frozen in the air. Snape had raised his right hand, index finger outstretched, as if to admonish the cup and its contents.

The wizard gave him a Look, and James stopped in mid-scream. Dorian, who had covered his ears, relaxed. The Doberman quit growling.

"Accio, teacup." Snape moved his index finger, as if to summon the wayward china. Obediently, cup and saucer settled into his outstretched palm. The stream of tea neatly poured itself into the cup again, which the wizard handed back to the petrified James, gently tapping his shoulder with one finger.

"No, Sir. Thank you, Sir," James whispered, like a reprimanded first grader, happy to have been left off the hook so lightly.

Very considerate of Professor Snape to save my china, Dorian thought. He remembered his duties as a host.

"Thank you." Snape folded his black-robed figure into an overstuffed chair and gracefully accepted a cup of tea, a drop of milk, no sugar, thank you.

Again, Dorian was mesmerised by the wizard's resonant voice; black, glittering eyes and elegant, gliding movements. He noticed that Snape's frock coat had a lot of buttons down the front. More buttons went up the sleeves and trouser legs. Dorian wondered how many of these buttons Hagrid would open before he lost patience ...

"Indeed!" Snape answered, giving Dorian a hard look, which made the Earl feel a bit like a little boy, reproached for not paying attention in class.

"Thanks to the 'Chronicles of Slytherin' I found out the identity of the wizard who brought the curse upon your family," Snape continued, turning to the Major. "'Curses through the Ages' yielded more information: Thomasin Stubbins, a sixteenth-century wizard and former Slytherin, apparently had taken up an affair with one of your ancestors, Herr von dem Eberbach. An adventurer of Portuguese origin, who had married into your family –"

"He was cursed indeed," the wizard continued sharply, "When Thomasin found out that Tyrian not only was married to a noblewoman and had a small son with her, but also had another male lover –"

"Thomasin apparently mentions a pirate – The chronicles speak of Thomasin's diary, which has been published in the 19th century. Unfortunately, I have been unable to locate it in our library so far, but the chronicles give a good summary ..."

"Impossible!" Klaus cut into Dorian's triumphant scream of "I knew it! Benedict! I knew it!" – "The Eberbach chronicles state that Tyrian and Benedict were mortal enemies!"

"Have you ever taken into consideration, Dar – Major, that the Eberbach chronicles may be just the tiniest bit incorrect in this point?"

"Alright, so what do your family chronicles say about Tyrian?" the Major asked coldly.

"However," Dorian continued triumphantly, "they were 'corrected' by Juniper Red, former Earl of Gloria, in the nineteenth century. Juniper was as straight as a ramrod, very bigoted, so he 'cleaned' our family chronicles of what he did not see fit for a family of English nobles."

"Unfortunately for him," Dorian continued, "he never got around to burning the older chronicles, so there is – among other juicy facts –"

"Gentlemen!" Snape's voice was thunderous. "May I have your attention?! Thank you."

James looked as if he wanted to ask what an obliviate spell was, but thought it better for his health to keep silent.

"I have put a silencio spell over this room," the wizard continued. "So we can talk freely. The news I have is not very good, I'm afraid. Thomasin's curse changed Tyrian not only into a dog, it also said he would remain a dog, unless he found and acknowledged his one true love by his thirtieth birthday. If he did not, he would lose all his human capacities and remain a mere animal for the rest of his life."

Klaus and Dorian exchanged a look. James and Bonham looked at the big dog and the Earl; one shocked, the other frightened.

"I thought as much." The Major finally broke the silence. "From what Lord Gloria found out from one of my elder relatives, the curse must still be in effect. According to the diary of one of my ancestors, there have occurred – disappearances - in my family, which have never been solved."

Dorian slapped his knee. "Tyrian disappeared. It was said he drowned when his ship sank, but what we have just heard – he might have ended his life as a dog."

"So it seems," Snape confirmed, emptying his teacup and putting it back on the saucer.

"What we don't know, however," the Major continued, "is, how the curse might actually be broken, if I managed to find my one true love –" he thought for a moment, "within three days' time."

His last words sounded so sad, so hopeless, that even the wizard's cold eyes lit up with sympathy for a moment.

Dorian opened his mouth to say what was at the tip of his tongue. Don't you know, Darling? Do you actually not know? Or are you just stubborn, trying to save face?

"I'm afraid, neither the chronicles nor 'Curses' are very forthcoming with regard to that aspect," Snape said. "It is only stated that the curse will befall every male firstborn of the family, and that 'he who is affected by this curse, must find and acknowledge his one true love before his thirtieth birthday. Otherwise he will end his life as a dog, forever seeking its master, driven from the threshold of its home'."

"Bit of a drama queen, this Mr Stubbins," Klaus grumbled. "Small wonder Tyrian gave him the slip ..."

Both Dorian and Snape looked at him reproachfully, but the Major continued unperturbed: "What do you think, Professor Snape? What does he mean by 'acknowledge'?"

"Would a kiss suffice as a token of true love?" Dorian urged the wizard. "Or would – more – be necessary?"

"Men have been betrayed by kisses," he finally said. "And someone who was experienced enough could lie with his body as well. No, I fear the magic of bodily love will not break the curse. I am fairly sure the curse will not be removed by - a sexual act. Something else will be necessary."

"Even the most degenerate wizard of Thomasin's time would have found bestiality of any kind the most horrible thing imaginable. Not even a degenerate, half-mad pureblood would ever have anything to do with it – not even for his most hated enemy. It was considered against the laws of nature and would mean death punishment for the wizard who would create such a curse," Snape answered.

To say that Dorian was relieved to hear this would have been an understatement. The Major was more sceptical.

"So let's assume for the moment that you are right, and exclude the bestiality option," he said. "What do you think, then, would resolve the curse instead?"

"Yes, what? Can you tell us what?" Dorian asked urgently. If it is not what I think ...

"I am no expert in these matters," he said, "so I can only give you some general ideas, which might already be familiar to you. A true lover considers his beloved's feelings, appreciates his gifts – apart from giving of himself. He might give up habits and opinions he cherishes, for his beloved's sake." He thought for a moment. "Love is as individual as the people concerned." He shrugged. "Maybe you have already done the right thing."

"I am afraid I cannot do more for you at the moment," the wizard said. "A curse this old cannot be broken by an outsider. There is no magical potion or counterspell for it."

"Thank you all the same," the Earl said. He could not suppress the trembling in his voice.

"For nothing," Snape repeated. Another idea seemed to strike him. "Perhaps it is not unimportant to take the reincarnation aspect into consideration."

"You mean – we mentioned the story of Tyrian and Benedict. What if they had actually been meant for each other ...?"

He stepped into the fireplace, turned towards the men in the room, took a small silver box from a pocket in his frock coat, opened it and threw some of the contents over his shoulder. A green cloud rose up, and when it settled again, the wizard had vanished.

"Those magical things make me nervous," James said, his voice quavering. He began to collect the teacups, handling the cup the wizard had drunk from with special care. "And he wasn't very helpful at all. Did you give him money, Milord?"

"Wizards don't 'ave no use for our money, Jamesie," he said. The door closed behind the Earl's accountant and his second-in-command, cutting off the latter's explanations about wizard currency.

Part 28: The Story of Carl Ludwig von dem Eberbach. B-Day (1985) minus 3, later in the afternoon

"'What if they had actually been meant for each other?'' the Major repeated Dorian's question. "So what? They are dead, for fuck's sake!"

"He might have a point! Let's just assume that Tyrian and Benedict actually had been meant for each other, that Benedict had been Tyrian's one true love ... Let's further assume that you, Major, are Tyrian's reincarnation, and I am the reincarnation of Benedict Red –"

"Romantic nonsense!" the Major barked. "I'm not the reincarnation of that irresponsible, treacherous, violent, ruthless criminal! And there is no such thing as history repeating itself!"

Dorian's long-fingered hand stroked the shining coat of the Doberman's muscular neck and chest. The dog slid away from the touch and began to pace the library.

"If you consider that a soul reincarnates to learn, to make experiences, to avoid mistakes from another life ..." Dorian continued. "You are dutiful, honest, chaste, with a strong sense of honour ... all characteristics Tyrian did not possess, as far as we know. But your dreams, dear ..."

"I wish I had never told you about them!" the Major growled. "Even if I was Tyrian's reincarnation, what's the point? What do you want to tell me?"

"It didn't work out with Tyrian and Benedict, but maybe it will work out with Klaus and Dorian," the Earl said patiently.

"Romantic nonsense!" Klaus repeated. "I have had it! I'm fed up with wizards who cannot help and with trying out idiot fairytale recipes!"

"Yes, I have!" the Major retorted. "Face it, Lord Gloria: I'm unlovable, and there is no such person as my one true love!"

"Major ..." Dorian's voice now sounded definitely broken. He walked over to the divan and collapsed on it. All strength seemed to have left him.

Oh shit ... The Doberman stopped his pacing in front of the divan. I didn't want to make him suffer ... After all, the whole mess is not his fault, and he does a lot for me ... We must look reality in the eye, though ...

"Why not face it?" he continued, a bit less harshly now. "We both see the signs. I am becoming more and more dog-like; not noticing when I bark instead of speaking with my human voice. My sense of smell has intensified. I love to play stupid games with James and Bonham ... Within three days' time, Major Klaus von dem Eberbach as you know him will be no more. There will only be an untrained, useless animal. And if you have any consideration for the man I still am now, I beg you to put that animal down."

"No!" Dorian jumped up, tears in his eyes. "How could I put down a healthy, innocent dog with a lot of good years ahead of him? You – you will be happy and enjoy life, and I will be responsible for you – how could I put you down? I would not ask the same of you, my love!" For a moment, he could not speak on. Finally he pulled himself together.

"You will be the best trained and best kept Doberman in the world. It would not be fair to kill a living creature enjoying its life, with no memory of what ..." His voice broke again.

The Earl hunkered down and put his arms around the Doberman's strong neck, hiding his face at the muscular chest. The dog kept himself very still.

"There is another family story," he finally said in a low voice. "I read the diary you brought. It was written by Franz Heinrich von dem Eberbach, one of my ancestors from the nineteenth century. He records the story of his parents, Celestine and Carl Ludwig von dem Eberbach. Carl Ludwig must have been a harsh and forbidding man. He went to war against Napoleon, and never came back, leaving his widow, Celestine, who was pregnant. A huge black dog was seen in the area, a savage beast, tearing cattle. Hunters tried to shoot it down, but Celestine, a good and charitable woman with a special love for animals, intervened. She took the animal in, and from then on, the creature followed her around wherever she went. Celestine gave birth to a boy, Franz Heinrich. When he was sixteen, she contracted a fever and died. The dog, which had done fairly well so far for its age, refused any food and drink from this day on and died miserably within a week. Franz Heinrich never liked the dog. Not that it had ever been aggressive towards him, but he was afraid of his mother's strong attraction to the animal. He said that in regard to the dog, he feared for his mother's sanity, because she doted so much on it. During her last days, she talked to the animal more than to her son, the servants and the doctors, and she would not have the dog removed from her bedside, once even addressing it as 'Ludwig'. Besides, he found that the dog showed an uncanny intelligence for an animal. "

"I would want to know more," Dorian said. "Was the affection the dog showed just the affection of a pet for its mistress? Or did Carl Ludwig retain at least part of his human consciousness? And if so, why?"

"This is not the point," Klaus growled. "The point probably is that Carl Ludwig came back in dog form before his thirtieth birthday and confided in his wife. I do not want to know what the poor woman must have gone through. I only know, I – I would not want the fate of Celestine von dem Eberbach for you."

"There is another possibility," Dorian said. "Maybe Celestine was Carl Ludwig's one true love, so the curse could not take its full effect. He became a dog, but because he returned to her, he retained his human consciousness?"

"Nonsense!" the Major answered. "Why would Carl Ludwig have turned into a dog, if she was his true love? Besides – if there ever has been a period in which my ancestors married for love, it certainly was not the early nineteenth century."

"Celestine may have loved him, though," Dorian insisted. "And even if he allegedly was a harsh and forbidding man, he may have loved her as well. Only – maybe – he never told her?"

The Earl shrugged and obliged the dog, letting him out into the garden. As usual, the Major ran up to the farthest point, tearing around the trees, then turning back.

"Nonsense," he repeated to himself, for once positive he was speaking human language. Deep inside, he was not so definitely sure, though, that Dorian's speculations actually were all nonsense ...