Our Corrupted Souls

Part VII: Soulless Magic.

"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come."

                                 ~ Rabindranath Tagore  

Every day, when the sun went out and the house fell asleep, Death would come for Harry and take him to the only place where the inscriptions for Soulless magic remained- the Valley of the Kings. However, Harry did not find what he was looking for until today, in the tomb of the fifth pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt, queen Hatshepsut. The tomb had been an easy place to find, but getting in there, it was a different story.

Hatshepsut's tomb was laced with a variety of protecting charms. If a wizard or witch were to get past that, they would have to be extremely skilled to avoid any sort of curse put upon the artifacts in the tomb any thief would be itching to set their hands on. Because Harry had extensive auror training, he could tell what was cursed and what was not. Even if it seemed to be safe to touch, Harry tried his best to restrain his curiosity.

Just because he could be reincarnated, it did not mean it did not hurt like hell.

Using the wand he had stolen from Daria, Harry used a levitation charm to unseal and open Hatshepsut's tomb. Heavy dust and small critters crept from out the casket made out of gold. The bandages that had been used to tend the corpse were now yellow, heavy with dust.

In the tomb, laid one of the most powerful women of ancient history, pharaoh Hatshepsut. Harry was not able to help his glee when he took notice of the book that was brought to her chest, being held in her crossed hands, then he reached out to take the ancient book without checking it for any curses. Luckily, Death was there to stop him. Harry lowered his head, hoping he could control his embarrassing blush. The curse was a tough one; it had the similar properties to that of a flesh eating curse, but death would prove more instant in this one. However, because Death had tapped into the essentials of soulless magic with him, Harry proved to be able to translate the curse to a jar that held the remaining bits of Hatshepsut's organs.

Harry double checked with Death before carefully moving Hatshepsut's mummified hands away from the book that had been laid on her chest, and with a delicate touch, picking up the inscriptions. Harry sat down on the dusty ground; his fingers brushed over what would be the cover of the book made out of golden tablets that had been sewn together with what seemed to be fine silk. At the side, the tablets had four rings, where the fine silk went through to the hoops.

"This is beautiful," said Harry, having read the first row of Linear B writing. Death looked at the small boy that now resembled an old beaten man rather than a one year old child. The entity appreciated the light in Harry's eyes and gentle, playful smile he had upon seeing something so priceless. "Indeed," Death answered, only that it had not yet taken notice of the tablets that had been lost for centuries.

Harry muttered a quick lumos, although he had already litten up all of the torches in the tomb. His eyebrows furrowed into a thin line.

"Master?"

"Hm?" Harry looked up to the dark ominous figure, his emerald eyes sparking with curiosity. Knowing what Death was intending to ask, he said, "oh, it's just, these tablets are made out of gold, and the handwriting isn't hieroglyphics, these things are highly inconvenient, it was far better to make these out of clay-"

Death pointed at the tablets, absently telling Harry to look back down to the tablet, which were now made out of clay. Harry was unable to help his playful smile. "Ah." His hand brushed over the writing now in hieroglyphics. "Smart. Did she make it, Hatshepsut?"