The Attic

He flipped a couple of pages and landed on "the Crushing Cabinet?"

A Crushing Cabinet is a torture device consisting of an iron cabinet in which a person is slowly crushed, as they find the walls, floor and ceiling closing in. The crushing walls are activated by closing the door shut.

He shivered slightly, worse than the cold wind outside. Just the thought of him being crush in the object. He wanted to read on though...

He read about cursed books for instance, Sonnets of a Sorcerer, which forces the reader to speak forever in limericks. A book that sears the eyes of the reader. A book that the reader cannot stop reading or dispose of.

He moved back a couple of pages. He saw a crumple decrepit hand on a purple pillow.

Hand of glory:

The Hand of Glory is a hand which gives light only to the beholder.

The Hand of Glory is a magical instrument which appears often in mystic lore. In general, it is described as a severed and preserved human hand, with a candle inplanted on it. The various powers ascribed to a Hand Of Glory include the ability to immobilize anyone who looks at it, or unlock any door it comes across. It was traditionally used by thieves, since it allowed them to see in otherwise total darkness, open locked doors, and immobilize guards. In some dark magical ceremonies, Hands of Glory were reputed to have been used as the source of illumination.
Various grisly myths surround the making of a Hand of Glory (which fits well with the reputation of Borgin & Burke's). The hand is said to be that of an executed criminal (usually by hanging); most often the criminal himself is a murderer or other serious felon. Other myths say that a hanged man's blood is necessary to the recipe, or that his body fat is used to make the candle.

The myth is probably derived from the (European) Mandrake plant (Mandragora officinarum). Etymologically, the name "Mandragora" closely resembles the French phrase "Main de la Gloire," ("Hand of Glory") The actual Mandrake plant produces a number of alkaloid toxins, including scopolamine and mandragorine, and has been used since ancient times as an anesthetic. Chewing the root can cause stupor.

A Hand of Glory appears prominently in the climax of John Bellairs's young adult novel The House With A Clock In Its Walls.

On the back of the same page had only a few lines of another dark object...no name but a description:

The Opal necklace is a cursed Dark object, which was claimed to have taken the lives of nineteen Muggles. Be cautious when handling.

A tawny owl flew around the attic before seeing that the occupier of the room was not at home. It left a letter on the table neatly addressed to Alexander Luke Brown.

Dear Luke,
I hope you have been through a good vacation so far before we head back to Hogwarts. In the meantime, I would like to invite you – and a few other people – to the Leoine residence for as long as you like. It begins as soon or as late as you feel comfortable to leave home.
If you wish to come along, I shall be waiting at the country park of Wiltshire to pick you up as soon as you reply.

Yours sincerely,
Alexandra Leoine.

Luke several hours latter landed into the open window, where his dear Pikachu flies in and out of. But when he lands, their is no sign of yellow feathers, sassy hooting or playful annoyance. He changed back into human form, several times bigger to see the whole Attic, but Luke saw nothing, no one. "Pikachu," he called cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice further, but to no avail. He tried whistling and calling in his animagi form but nothing except dead quite.

Where is he?

Luke just shrugged it off like it was nothing. He told himself that he was out hunting or something, that Pikachu would be back latter tonight. Without time to waste he proceeded down stairs to the basement. His basement, where all his potions were made, and perfected.

Luke woke up. His head was pounding. He moan as he sat up. His eyes were close trying to keep his stomach down from coming up his throat and from the world spinning. Keeping his eyes shut he felt around on the coffee table looking for something, but found nothing. It was barren. He only felt the hard wood underneath his fingers.

"Cazz?" he whispered, not to upset his head.

He whispered her name again. He knew she was their, but where? He had no idea. Probably by the lake? he thought as he stood up testing his center of balance. It was weak but steady. Now for the big test, opening his eyes.

Not testing his strength to fly he slowly crept to the stairs. He had to take his time, and maneuver around books and other obsticles, so he did not trip and kill himself. His joints and movements were choppy. They did not want to work as properly as they should. He lean on the wall for support as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen and out the back door without any incident.

Cazz slipped in the attic looking through his books quietly to see what was wrong with him. Picking up a book she began to flip through it quietly.

'he's just so sick... And I don't think it's the flu.'

Flipping through she stopped at the poisons slowly reading the symptoms. This was wrong. It was wrong. Going back to the beginning of the book. He had the symptoms of an illness that had been dead for at lest a hundred years or someone was trying to poison him.