Author Notes: Thank you to emerald_dragon8 for the beta. Originally written for the hd_worldcup 2009.
###
Albus Potter dies at the ripe old age of 280
Albus Severus Potter passed away last night peacefully at his London residence. His family and friends were at his bedside. A private memorial service will be held at Godric's Hollow on the weekend for family and friends. Any members of the public wishing to pay their respects to the son of the late Harry James Potter may send cards and flowers to his estate in York.
Elias placed the Daily Prophet back down on the table and folded it carefully. So, that was it, he thought. The last of the old crowd had finally succumbed. He felt a twinge of sadness but it soon dissipated. He would finally be able to open the package that had been sitting waiting for him at Gringotts for over fifty years. On her deathbed, his grandmother had made him promise not to open it until Albus Potter was dead.
Elias had agreed. He hadn't thought that the old fart would live that long. He had been pushing 140 already and all sensible predictions said that he would die within the next 20 years. But they were all wrong.
Albus Severus Potter had lived to an astounding 191 years of age.
Well, Elias thought, not so much lived as spent the past twenty years in bed being grouchy. But facts were facts, Albus Potter had been alive and as such, Elias couldn't access the package.
Until now.
###
The goblins at Gringotts stared at Elias suspiciously as he held out his golden key. Elias felt sweat beading up on his palms. He preferred the newer Muggle-style banks that were run by humans. Nowadays, few people frequented Gringotts, with good reason too. The Muggle-style banks were so much nicer and far more modern. In fact, as he stood at their marble counters, he realised there were only two other people in the room. .
But his grandmother had chosen Gringotts. .
Elias supposed it was only natural. She had lived to an immensely old age and change was difficult for her. She had told him, while grasping onto his shirt with a gnarled hand, that when she was young, Gringotts had been the premier banking institution for Wizarding England.
"Times change," he had tried to explain to her, but she just snorted and told him that goblins were far more trustworthy than humans.
As Elias looked at their beady eyes, he wasn't so sure.
"Here you go, sir," a goblin said, as he placed a small box on the counter.
Elias stared at it. He had never seen what his grandmother had left him. He had expected it to be bigger. Perhaps more shiny and jewel-encrusted. She had sworn that it was the most precious thing in recent history. Looking at it now, Elias hoped that the box was filled. Maybe it would be packed with gold and diamonds. They would have to be really expensive diamonds, he thought,
"Would you like to close the account, sir?" the goblin said.
Elias was startled momentarily from his thoughts. "Yes," he said after a second's pause. "Thank you and good day to you." He picked up the small but surprisingly heavy box and left.
Outside, Diagon Alley was dark and overcast as usual. Elias hurried towards the nearest Apparation Point, fumbling in his bag for his pass. He hoped that it wouldn't start raining. It was always unpleasant here at Diagon Alley whenever it rained. He preferred the newer covered Alleys.
At the Apparation Point, he shoved his pass at the guard there who scrutinised it and then waved him through.
###
At home, Elias placed the box carefully on his kitchen table. Grabbing a pair of scissors from, he tried to open it. As soon as the scissors had sliced through the Sellotape, it glued itself back together again.
Ah, he thought and took out his wand. He tapped the box and it sprung open.
Elias's eyes widened and he took a step backwards. Not only had the box opened, but it had also enlarged. It now took up his entire kitchen table instead of just a small corner of it. He smiled slightly. He should have never doubted his grandmother. After all, the great Rita Skeeter would have never lied to him.
He stood up on his toes and removed a piece of paper from the box. Unfolding it, he realised it was a letter addressed to him.
My dear Elias,
I suppose I should tell you now that there is nothing of value in this box.
Elias sat down suddenly and placed his hand on his heart. Nothing of value? But that was ridiculous. His grandmother had always stressed the importance of the box and how it must be protected. How could there be nothing of value in it? He glanced back at the letter and read on.
I'm exaggerating, Elias, you can stop clutching your heart now. You're not feeling heart palpitations. We Skeeters have always had strong hearts.
What I meant is that there is nothing valuable in the sense of gold, jewels or other such valuables. However, contained within this box is information, which is more precious than all of the jewels in the world.
In this box, is a good story - nay, the best story the wizarding world has ever told. Like all stories, it has intrigue, betrayal, murder and love. And like all the best stories, it has been untold up until now.
I expect you to tell it.
However, I'm not going to tell you the story. After all, half the fun of a good story is in the hunt.
Have fun, Elias dear. And I promise you, it is a great story - though it may seem sordid at times. You have the responsibility now, for I fear that I cannot bear it.
Your grandmother,
Rita
Elias stared at the letter. It was preposterous that his grandmother should expect him to unravel some old mystery and tell it to the world. He always knew that she loved hunting down a good story and exposing it to the world, but he wasn't her. He wasn't a reporter. He was an accountant, for Merlin's sake!
He put the letter aside and lifted out other items from the box. Two Pensieves. A few yellowed bits of parchment. A newspaper clipping from the first Muggle War.
All rubbish.
For a brief second, Elias wondered if there really had been a secret buried in this box for over half a century, perhaps more. Maybe his grandmother was mistaken. Maybe it was just a hunch. Maybe she had never figured out the secret. Maybe there was no secret at all.
Anyway, Elias reasoned, it was something for another day. He had expected something interesting in the box. Something useful that he could sell during these times of recession. He doubted that anybody would be interested in some mouldy old Pensieve.
Without giving it another thought, Elias Skeeter sealed up the box again, shoved it into a closet, and closed the door.
###
The box sat in Elias's closet for two more years.
###
Elias never knew what possessed him to open the box again that dull Tuesday afternoon in August. Perhaps it was the fact he had just been laid off from his second job in three months. Perhaps it was the fact he was seriously contemplating stepping out on that ledge and taking a swan dive. Or perhaps it was simply the fact he was just curious. Whatever the reason, he suddenly decided at two pm that Tuesday afternoon to stop watching Muggle daytime soaps and to discover the secret that his grandmother had left to him.
With effort, Elias peeled himself off his fake leather couch and lumbered over to his closet. The two weeks he had spent in his apartment barely going outside except for groceries had done dreadful things to his weight.
Elias had always been a chubby boy, but as he stared down at himself in the mirrored closet, he realised that he was now just plain fat. Not heavy. Not big-boned. Just plain fat. If he looked down, he could barely see his toes. Walking up the stairs to his apartment made him out of breath.
As his grandmother would have said, "Fat as a giant walrus and nowhere near as cute."
She always had a way with words.
Breathing a little hard from the exertion, Elias pulled the box out and sat down beside it. He grimaced slightly at the grimy feeling of his carpet.
"So," he muttered, as he ripped the Muggle tape off the box, "what do you have for me, grandmother dearest?"
###
Elias had always been a methodical child. When his parents decided to get divorced when he was ten, he helped them divide up the furniture. When he started swotting for his exams, he drew up brilliantly coloured charts (and shaded them in increasingly urgent shades as the exam date neared) of exactly what he was going to do each and every day and pinned them onto his walls. When he started his job as an accountant, he knew that it was the perfect occupation for him.
Of course, his parents ended up pushing him outside to play with his peers who hated him and called him a weirdo. His charts didn't help him excel in his exams (sometimes Elias wondered if he spent more time studying and less time making charts, then perhaps he would have passed the Auror exams) and he had gotten fired from every job he had ever started. They called it being laid off, but Elias knew.
Still, Elias thought as he stared at the neatly lined up rows of items he had taken out of the box, this time it'll be different. This time, he would do it right and he would figure out what his grandmother was talking about and he'd be famous for the story.
Perhaps then he'd get the girl and the fairy tale happy ending.
###
Elias made a list of the contents of the box. This is what it looked like:
Two Pensieves
A copy of Muggle Wars
Five newspaper clippings
Three letters
Rita Skeeter's letter
###
Elias decided that he would look at the items in the order he pulled them out of the box. With apprehension, he stared at the swirling blue surface of the blue Pensieve. He had always been taught, right from when he was a small child, that it was anathema to look into somebody else's Pensieve. They were private.
"For my eyes only," his mother had explained gently when she caught him staring into her Pensieve.
"Get out of my private thoughts, you meddlesome boy!" his father had yelled not-so-gently when he caught Elias in his Pensieve. He'd slapped Elias who had run off to sulk in a corner.
That was Elias's father. Richard Skeeter was failed politician who hadn't had the time to have children when he was younger. Elias had been born when his mother was forty and his father was over a hundred. Richard Skeeter had always been sorely disappointed in his only child (and his obviously failing sperm count). Elias had never been strong enough. Never been bright enough. And certainly never man enough for his father.
Elias paused and wondered if he really should look in these Pensieves. Sure the owners were probably long dead, but they were still private memories. He was positive that his grandmother had looked at them though. It would have been too much to ask for a Pensieve to fall into Rita Skeeter's possession and have her not look inside.
He steeled himself and leaned over.
###
The world swirled around Elias and when it righted itself once more, he found himself standing in a brown wood-panelled room. He blinked to clear his eyes. There seemed to be two men arguing in front of him.
Gingerly, Elias took a step forward and cleared his throat. He winced at the rasping sound.
They ignored him completely.
"Hello?" he tried softly.
They still ignored him.
"Oi!" he said loudly.
They continued arguing. Elias was satisfied. He was definitely in a Pensieve. He walked around the men and looked at them carefully. One was short - not as short as Elias himself but definitely not tall - and slender. The other was taller and equally slender. Elias leaned in closer and peered at both men.
With a start, he realised one of them was none other than the famous Harry Potter. The famous Harry Potter who had not only defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but also who had fought for them in the first Muggle War. He could see the faint line of the scar on the man's forehead.
Elias frowned. But who was the other man? It couldn't have been the slightly less famous Ronald Weasley. By all accounts, Weasley had a mane of shocking red hair, whereas this man's hair was blond, almost white.
"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," Potter snapped.
Elias gave a start. He had managed to block out most of their earlier argument, but now he realised that he ought to have been listening. And should have brought a pen and paper, he admonished himself. He was trying to be a reporter here. He should have been prepared!
The man named Malfoy - Elias wondered if he was related to the Malfoys he knew - tossed his head and sneered. "Really? Maybe you should venture out of where you've been shacked up with that woman and actually talk to people for a change."
Potter visibly bristled. "That woman you're talking about is my wife!"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You're missing the point, Potter."
"I don't think so," Potter said coldly. "I'm perfectly happy with my family. Ginny's expecting our first child within a month. I don't have time to listen to your idle speculations." With that, he walked out of the room.
Elias waited for the memory to end, but it didn't. Interesting, he thought, it seems to be tied to this Malfoy person, instead of to Harry Potter.
Malfoy shook his head and looked around the empty room. "They're not idle speculations," he muttered.
###
Elias could feel that there were more memories in the Pensieve but he pulled himself out of it. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable watching the memories. He was invading the privacy of these men. It wasn't as though he stole the Pensieve but Elias still felt bad.
Besides, he was beginning to feel hungry. He wished that he had a house elf. It would have been so much easier in the days of his grandmother and Harry Potter. From what Elias could tell, in those days, house elves were everywhere! Practically every household was supposed to have had a house elf and some of the richer households or institutions like Hogwarts had many. Nowadays though, Elias realised that he hadn't even seen a house elf for over ten years. The Reforms that had taken place over a hundred years ago ensured rights for magical creatures like house elves and most of them had left.
To where, Elias wasn't sure, but he didn't really care.
In the absence of house elves, the wizarding world had turned to a mixture of Muggle cooking devices and spells. Elias preferred the Muggle devices. Spells were fine for heating a cup of tea or soup, but they failed the test at creating more subtle flavours.
The last time Elias had tried to create spaghetti bolognaise using a spell, it had come out chocolate cake flavoured. Guaranteed to recreate your personal favourites! the charm advertisement had boasted. While Elias loved both spaghetti bolognaise and chocolate cake, he realised that they really didn't taste nice mixed together.
With a sigh, he turned on his oven and waited for it to preheat.
###
While Elias ate his lasagne, he flipped through the copy of Muggle Wars that had come with the box his grandmother left him. It was a classic text from the time of Harry Potter.
From talking to his grandmother during her later years, Elias had surmised that during his lifetime, Harry Potter had been known more for defeating Tom Riddle rather than his participation in the Muggle Wars. That had changed over the years. Nowadays, most authors glossed over the whole Voldemort Wars and concentrated on the fallout, most notably the Muggle fallout.
Over the past hundred or so years, they had established an uneasy detente with the Muggle world. The wizarding world hadn't exactly shut its borders but contact with the Muggle world was discouraged. There were no actual penalties on the rulebooks regarding such contact, but Elias - along with everybody else - had heard stories about what happened to people.
It was almost as though wizarding England was a country within Muggle England. They didn't retain sovereignty. Everybody in Muggle England knew there were witches and wizards out there. But they were allowed to self-govern.
Or least, Elias thought, that was how the Muggles put it. He had seen several Muggle books describing the wars. The Muggles had seen witches and wizards as akin to terrorists, unknown threats out there that could hurt the general Muggle populace.
True, no wizard had gone around blowing him or herself up, like some Muggles, but still - Muggles feared them.
Elias flipped through the book. Muggle Wars was a wizarding publication that came out just after the wars themselves. It had been amended over the years to reflect more information as it came to light, but the essential story remained the same. It was the definitive guide to the wars and almost every child by the time they reached Hogwarts age had read at least an abridged version of it.
His gaze fell to one of the first paragraphs of the book.
The phrase "Muggle Wars", is by itself, a juxtaposition. It implies that there was open conflict, that war was declared, much like in the final few months of the second Voldemort War. To the readers now, and indeed to us as editors, it seems unbelievable that, at the time, most people did not believe they were in a war. In fact, if you examine the most popular texts of the time, you will see the era described as a "peaceful time, no longer marred by tensions between purebloods and Muggle-borns" (Peterson, 2003: 12). With hindsight, of course, we can see the tensions between our world and that of the Muggles building up from as early as 1999.
Elias flipped a few more pages.
Harry Potter was married to his Hogwarts sweetheart, Ginevra Weasley, in 2001. Their wedding represented a peak in the peace and prosperity of the wizarding world. Despite the problems that seem obvious to us now, the wizarding world at that time revelled in their…
Elias stopped reading and closed the book. He was beginning to wonder whether the man talking to Harry Potter had known more than the average person in that time. But how did Malfoy know? Elias wondered what sources Malfoy had.
He decided that he needed to discover more. He needed to look into the Pensieve again.
But first, Elias looked down at his plate and spooned the last of the food into his mouth; he needed to finish his meal.
###
"There's absolutely nothing wrong!" Potter protested, a vein jumping in his neck. "There's practically no crime. We've captured the last of the Death Eaters. People are happy! I'm happy. Why do you keep on coming over with your wild allegations?"
Malfoy raised an elegant eyebrow. "Then why do you keep on meeting up with me?" he asked coolly. "You know there's something seriously wrong with the world. Something's happening or something's on the verge of happening."
"You're lying," Potter said stubbornly. "You're trying to drag us into your pathetic unhappy life."
Malfoy just stared at him. "My life isn't unhappy!"
"Oh no?" An unpleasant expression twisted Potter's face. "Your father is in Azkaban. Your mother hasn't left Malfoy Manor in over two years. Tell me again about your happy life."
Malfoy's face was frozen when he responded. "I'm happily married, Potter. Astoria and I have a wonderful life. I want to keep it that way. The rest…" he hesitated, "the rest is history. You must have noticed, what with all of your Ministry contacts, that we live in London rather than Malfoy Manor."
###
Elias pulled himself out of the memory again. He felt like he was missing something. He knew all of this. And it seemed that not everybody was as clueless in that era as the editors of Muggle Wars thought. But there must have been more. Why else would his grandmother, the great Rita Skeeter herself, give him all this information? There must be more here.
He grunted and stretched out a muscle in his leg that had tightened. It always seemed to stiffen whenever he had been sitting still for too long. Leaning down, Elias rubbed his leg.
Perhaps, he thought, I should be watching all of the Pensieves at once. That way I could get all of the basic facts and then go back and rewatch them as necessary.
Elias suddenly remembered that there were also letters in the box. He pulled himself up off the floor, groaning slightly as his muscles twitched, and walked towards the box. He took out the letters and skimmed them. It seemed as though one of them was a letter from Potter's wife to him. Another letter was one from an old school friend to Potter. Surprisingly, the third letter was addressed to Draco Malfoy. Elias wondered whether this Draco Malfoy was the same Malfoy that appeared in Potter's Pensieves.
Elias took up the first letter addressed to Potter and started reading.
Dear Harry,
It feels strange writing you a letter after being married for so many years. We might be separated now, but I still feel so close to you. I've tried to floo you so many times in the past few days but you never pick up. I've stopped by your office and your boss says that you haven't been in for at least a week.
What's wrong, Harry? What's happening to you?
I had an inkling that something might be wrong before we separated. You'd come home so late and look so worried. At first, I thought it might be another woman, but then that look reappeared in your eyes. You know what look. The look you had back when you were fighting You-Know-Who.
I thought that was all over. Please, Harry, tell me it's all over?
I still love you. Come back to me when you're ready. Tell me what's wrong.
Yours,
Ginny
Elias stared at the curling script on the letter. He had never known any of this. According to the history books, Harry Potter had a happy marriage with Ginevra Weasley. But now, according to this letter, apparently Potter had been separated from his wife for a period. He suspected that it must have been a short period, otherwise it would have been far more well known, but it was still a shock to him.
He suspected that by this point, Potter was embroiled in the first Muggle war. Perhaps, that accounted for the look in his eyes that Ginny was frightened of. But all the history books had said that few people knew of the actual war.
There was something going on here, Elias knew it. He just couldn't put his finger on it.
###
Elias started reading the second letter. It seemed to be similar to the one from Potter's wife. It seemed as though everybody was worried about Potter back in those days. Elias wondered why he had never heard of any of this before.
He picked up the third letter. As he started reading, Elias's eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open. He closed it with an effort and looked around sheepishly. He had always managed to feel embarrassed whenever he was behaving ridiculously, even if nobody was around to mock him.
He stared back down at the letter. It seemed be a letter from one of Draco Malfoy's lovers. What was such a letter doing in a box of Potter's things? On that point, what was Malfoy's memory doing in the Pensieve? It wasn't as though the two were friends. Elias frowned. His grandmother wouldn't have included the letter if it wasn't important. He knew she wouldn't have. He looked over at the box. He hadn't even looked through most of the things his grandmother had included.
Elias snorted. The whole investigating thing looked and sounded better in books. In reality though, it was boring, tiresome and most of the crap he ended up looking through was completely and utterly pointless.
And this is probably some of the better stuff, Elias realised. His grandmother had already sorted through it.
He looked at the letter.
Draco,
Last night shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake.
I keep on thinking back to how this all began. How I didn't believe you at first. How you sounded insane. How it just sounded so implausible. And then when I realised, I expected you to laugh at me and mock me but you just gave me that look.
There was a bit scribbled out. Elias peered at it and thought he could make out the words tumbled into bed.
I wish I could say I never wanted to see you again. But we need to bring this information to the public light.
I'll see you again tomorrow in our usual place.
The letter ended quite abruptly. Elias couldn't help thinking that the woman writing this letter wasn't much of a writer. Even the writing itself was awkward (very rounded and smooth), almost as though she wanted to disguise her own identity.
Elias frowned. He felt as though he was on the edge of a breakthrough. Things were starting to come together in his mind, but he felt like he was missing something. Something incredibly important.
###
Potter was shaking. Elias could see it from across the room. Potter looked absolutely terrified. It wasn't a good expression for one of the greatest wizards of all the ages to be wearing, Elias thought.
"How could I have missed it?" Potter muttered to himself.
"Missed what?" Elias burst out, knowing that Potter couldn't hear him but still wishing that Pensieves worked that way. "Tell me!" he urged Potter.
As if as an answer to his entreaty, the door beside Potter opened. Elias raised an eyebrow as Malfoy walked in. He was surprised how all the Pensieve memories he had seen so far all seemed to revolve around those two men. Perhaps the mystery his grandmother had written about in the letter was concerned not only with Potter but also with Draco Malfoy.
"You were right," Potter said quietly.
Elias leaned closer, not wanting to miss anything.
Malfoy shrugged. "You didn't want to see it." His voice was oddly gruff.
Potter stood up from where he was sitting and began pacing. "I still feel like I'm to blame," he finally admitted.
Malfoy walked over. From where Elias was standing, it looked like the man hesitated before he placed a hand on Potter's shoulder. "You and everybody else," he pointed out. "Nobody saw it."
Potter turned and looked at the other man with tortured eyes. "You did."
"I guess I'm just special."
Elias couldn't help but laugh, but it was obvious that Potter didn't find the joke amusing. Potter turned and glared at Malfoy. "This is not the time for jokes."
###
Elias was getting increasingly frustrated. He had forgone reading the book. He had read it before, and he was positive that it contained no deep dark secrets. He had gone through the letters and newspaper clippings over and over again. The Pensieves seemed to contain more scenes like the ones he had already watched.
They seemed to all contain scenes with Potter and Malfoy. Most of the memories were Potter and Malfoy sniping at each other, but some seemed to show them in an amiable working relationship. Elias had a feeling that there was something important in the scenes. There must be something important, yet he was missing it.
He felt like he was reading a book with every third line removed. He got the general gist, but he ended up missing the finer details.
And Elias was never particularly good with being patient.
As he stared at the two Pensieves sitting on his kitchen table, Elias considered throwing them out. Maybe this was all some elaborate joke by his grandmother. Maybe she was a ghost somewhere, laughing at his stupidity.
###
When Elias was younger, he used to love listening to his grandmother's stories. One of his favourites was that of the Two Wizards in Love.
"Once upon a time," his grandmother would always begin, "there were two wizards who were very much in love, but they didn't know it. From birth, they had been enemies and thought they would always remain enemies. Besides, this was set in the old days where it was unacceptable for wizards to love wizards and witches to love witches."
Elias always interrupted her at this point. "They were horrible in those days, weren't they?" he piped up.
His grandmother chuckled. "Certainly. Many same sex couples ended up in Azkaban. But back to our story. These wizards both went to the same school but they had very different circles of friends. When they left school, both wizards thought they would never see each other again. One wizard married a beautiful red-headed witch who was the sister of his best friend. The other wizard married a family friend. Both thought they would live happily ever after with their brides."
"But?" Elias had prompted.
"Patience, Eli dear," his grandmother said and patted his hand. "These two wizards ended up working together to defeat a terrible and great enemy. During the process, they realised that they loved each other. Now, since both wizards were married and very well known in the community back then, neither could take their newfound love to the next step.
"So with great sadness, the wizards parted after the war and went back to their separate lives, secure in the knowledge that their love was secret and that they had bettered the wizarding world."
Elias had always thought the story had ended quite abruptly. Still, it was one of his favourite tales and it was the story that he always thought of whenever he thought of his grandmother. She always had a misty smile on her face whenever she told him that story. At times, he had wondered whether the story had truly involved two witches rather than two wizards and whether she was one of the witches. But he had never worked up the courage to ask her.
It was only now that he was face to face with the Pensieves that Elias also remembered his grandmother's penchant for riddles and puzzles. Obviously, the entire box was a riddle but there was no rule to say that there wouldn't be a riddle inside of a riddle.
Rita Skeeter had always told him that a person who couldn't solve a puzzle, didn't deserve to know the whole story.
And she had sent him this box, so surely he knew the answer?
Elias hesitated before picking up his wand. He held it to the side of one of the Pensieves. "Two Wizards in Love," he said quietly, feeling ridiculous.
Immediately, Elias felt himself falling into the blue-grey swirl.
###
Elias's mouth dropped open. He couldn't help thinking that his mouth had been dropping open quite a lot recently. Ever since he got his grandmother's letter, in fact. Before that, Elias never thought of himself as the kind of man whose mouth dropped open. In fact, he thought that he was very difficult to surprise. Then again, he'd never had too many surprises in his life. Not even a surprise birthday party.
Elias blinked to clear his vision.
He blinked again.
The image still remained. In fact, as Elias squinted, the men seemed more amorous than when he had first tuned into the memory. He was feeling rather dirty just for watching it.
Elias rarely ever watched porn. In fact, the idea of porn made him rather uncomfortable. It made him feel as though he was intruding in on people's private moments. Even though he knew that the actors and actresses in Muggle movies and in wizarding photographs were, well, faking it, it still didn't stop the twinge in his stomach. Besides, Elias reflected, it made him feel alone. He didn't want to watch people make love. He wanted to be the one making love to a sinuous female body. He wanted to be the one thrusting into that quivering flesh.
Elias clamped down on that line of thought. He knew he wasn't a particularly eloquent man. In fact, his essays back at Hogwarts had tended to be blunt and factual without much finesse. The few times he had tried to write erotica, it had turned out badly. No wonder, he thought, with a grimace, if I keep on using words like 'quivering flesh'.
He looked back at the scene in front of him. He had successfully distracted himself for a few moments, it was true, but not well enough.
Because, no matter how much Elias tried to not look, there were still two naked men entangled in front of him.
And these two naked men were still Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy respectively.
Potter chose that moment to make a particularly loud moan. "Fuck, Draco," he gasped.
Elias couldn't help noticing that Potter's arse looked quite nice. Not that he was gay or anything. It's just, objectively speaking, Elias realised that Potter wasn't only the saviour of the wizarding world, one of the most powerful wizards that had ever lived. He also seemed to have a damn good body that Malfoy was making full use of.
Elias watched with fascination as Draco slowly thrust his cock in and out of Potter's arse. He had never watched gay porn before. He certainly wasn't gay and he could count the number of sexual encounters he'd had with women on the fingers of one hand.
Elias tilted his head to one side. He had never thought about it, but sex looked really quite odd from the perspective of an outsider. He'd never quite gotten voyeurism.
Still, with the little experience he had, Elias could tell that the men in front of him were enjoying themselves. Enjoying themselves immensely.
Involuntarily, Elias found his own cock start to lengthen. His hand began to wander down towards the general area. He felt a tingling sensation as he ran his fingers over the bulge.
Elias decided that was a good time to withdraw from the memory.
###
After that particular memory, Elias decided to go and take a cold shower. His cock was now its normal limp and flaccid self, but his memory of the events in the Pensieve were still strong. He felt dirty just by thinking about it. He certainly wasn't going to wank himself off to the memory. Definitely not.
At some point in the past, Harry Potter had a relationship with Draco Malfoy.
It was as though a light bulb had gone off over Elias's head. It was so obvious now. Malfoy's love letter had obviously come from Potter himself. No wonder the writer had taken such pains to disguise his handwriting. Potter was no doubt married to his wife at the time. All the history books mentioned how they had such a long and happy marriage.
Elias snorted. Long and happy except for the obviously fantastic sex Potter was having with Malfoy, who by all accounts was Potter's arch-nemesis.
This was obviously the story that his grandmother had wanted him to tell. It was the biggest scoop of his lifetime. It was going to rock the wizarding world to its core.
Elias pondered for a second and wondered whether he should release this story.
But only for a second.
###
"Are you sure?"
Elias glared at the editor of the Daily Prophet.
"I know you're Rita Skeeter's grandson," the editor added hurriedly. "She was one of our best reporters. Her stories, well, no matter how outlandish, generally turned out to be true. But you, you're an accountant."
"Retired accountant," Elias said grumpily.
The editor raised an eyebrow. "And you're looking to ruin the names of one of the most powerful, most respected wizards of all time. His last remaining son may be dead, but he still has family around who would take offence to this. With all this Muggle integration, we can't afford to be sued by those lawyers who've studied under the Muggle justice system."
Elias gave a wry smile. It was true enough though. The lawyers who had ended up studying at Oxford came back like runespoors. They seemed to be able to smell a case from a mile away. "Here," he said, and pushed the Pensieve towards the editor. "I've tuned it to the correct memory."
Looking doubtful, the editor looked into the Pensieve.
###
A few days later, Elias happily unfolded his Daily Prophet to see the huge headline:
Potter Scandal: Elias Skeeter reveals sex scandal involving Harry Potter
Elias smiled. Surely the great Rita Skeeter would be proud of him now. He'd revealed the greatest kept secret of the last hundred years. He skimmed down the article.
According to Elias Skeeter, his grandmother left him a box of cryptic notes, Pensieves and letters. Within one of these Pensieves, was the shocking memory of Harry Potter having sexual relations with Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was a classmate of the famous Harry Potter when they attended Hogwarts.
We at the Prophet have tried to contact members of both the Potter and Malfoy estates. They have both declined a comment at this stage.
Elias flipped to the opinion section of the Prophet where reporters had taken their opportunity to express their personal views of this surprise.
Lies concocted by an enemy, was one of the headlines.
Forged Pensieve, read another headline. Elias frowned. Only one of the opinion pieces seemed to support the leading story.
Kneazle's finally out of the bag
Elias shrugged. He knew there were always going to be dissenters. This was shocking news. He hadn't felt comfortable giving up his grandmother's box of things to the editor of the Prophet. Only the editor and his top writer had seen the actual evidence. Elias knew that there was likely going to be an enquiry into the matter. He would produce the evidence then.
Let those runespoors of lawyers go through the Pensive with a fine toothcomb then. Elias knew that the Pensieves were genuine and hadn't been tampered with.
###
Elias settled back to his normal comfortable, albeit jobless, life. He had gotten a pretty fat fee from the editor of the Daily Prophet for his information. "Although," the editor had warned, "you might want to save some of this for the lawyers. There's going to be an uproar over this."
And an uproar there was.
The Potter estate had finally deigned to comment on the article. They released a statement condemning the Prophet for publishing lies. It was said that the matriarch of the family, Margaret Potter, granddaughter of Harry Potter, had taken to bed with heart problems after hearing of the news.
Elias felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't meant to cause any problems for anybody. To be honest, he hadn't realised that anybody would mind so much. He had thought that people would be surprised or even horrified at the turn of events, but he hadn't realised anybody would take it so personally. After all, they were talking about events that happened about a hundred and fifty years ago. It was ancient history!
The Malfoy estate still refused to comment. The Prophet had snapped a particularly interesting shot of one of the Malfoy heirs walking into the Potter estate, looking serious. It was obvious both camps were aiming to consolidate their forces.
Elias looked over at his grandmother's box that was still sitting on his dining room table. He still hadn't looked through the second Pensive although he presumed that it contained much of the same the first had. He didn't really want to look at Potter and Malfoy making love any more. Why would anybody save those memories in a Pensieve? Elias didn't really want to think about the reasons.
###
The doorbell to his apartment rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Elias looked up from where he was reading Muggle Wars on his old, dilapidated couch. With a groan, he tried to get up but failed. He hoped the person would go away. Normally nobody came to his apartment. He doubted it was anybody important. It was most likely somebody trying to sell something. Most likely religion.
Either that or another old man or woman crying about how he had ruined the reputation of their hero. Harry Potter simply couldn't have cheated on his wife, they insisted.
The bell rang again and his doorknob rattled.
Elias frowned and, with effort, got up. He stumbled to the door and opened it, staring blearily at the tall man standing there. The man seemed to have a nervous tic on the side of his face. Elias was feeling rather sick just by looking at it. Twitch. Twitch.
"What'd you want?" he asked, rather abruptly.
To his surprise, the man pushed past him and walked into his apartment.
Elias closed the door and spun around. Slowly, because his bulk was getting rather enormous nowadays. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of my apartment!"
The man seemed to be looking behind Elias's curtains. After looking behind all of them, the man shut them. The apartment was now dark and shadowy.
Elias shivered. The man looked really creepy now, even with his tic. "Well," Elias demanded, groping about behind him for something. "Ah ha!" Elias brandished a rose from the vase on his shelf. "Get out of my apartment or…"
"You'll prick me with one of those nasty looking thorns?" The man raised an eyebrow.
Elias glared at him. "Who are you?"
"My name is inconsequential," the man said briskly. "But you may call me John."
Elias didn't think the man looked like a John but he shrugged. "Get out of my apartment, John," Elias hesitated and then added, "please." He could never help being polite. It was something his classmates had mocked him for back at Hogwarts.
"You're in danger," John said, sounding more in control. Elias noticed that his twitch had disappeared. "A lot of danger."
"Uh huh."
John nodded and then Elias noticed the wand in his hand.
Oh shit.
###
Elias felt like his head was made of cotton wool. No, he amended silently, more like iron. It hurt to sit up. As he blinked blearily, he could make out a fuzzy figure in front of him. The figure sharpened and Elias realised it was John, squatting beside him, looking concerned.
"Are you alright?" John asked.
Elias decided that this wasn't the right time to expound on his mental essay on how kidnappers ought to behave. "I'm a bit groggy," he admitted.
"Sorry," John apologised. He disappeared from view for a second. Elias closed his eyes. The world was spinning. Of course, it always spun, but usually he couldn't feel it. "Here you go," John said, reappearing.
Elias sat up and accepted the glass of water. He wrinkled his nose at the slightly discoloured glass and the sharp metal tang of the water. "Why am I here?" he asked, after taking a sip. The metallic taste didn't help his wooziness any. He noticed that John was still holding his wand, twirling it aimlessly in his fingers.
"It was for your own protection," John explained.
"Right." Elias clamped down on mental voice inside his head that was currently repeating St Mungo's to the tune of the Hogwarts song. "Do you think you could let me go? I'm pretty sure nobody is after me."
"Oh but they are," John said earnestly.
Now that Elias was closer to the other man, he could see a bit of a wild look about him. There were food stains on the man's collar (possibly curry, Elias thought) and a bright, not-quite-sane look in his eyes. He realised that he should be treading quite carefully. The man was obviously unbalanced. "Who is after me?" Elias tried to make his tone as gentle as possible.
"The government!"
Elias snorted softly. He might have guessed. Of course, it was the government. It was always the government. Who else would star in a crazy man's conspiracy theories? "Why are they after me, John?"
"Because of the Daily Prophet article," John said, leaning closer to Elias.
Elias surreptitiously leant back against the wall. John's breath had the distinct smell of Firewhiskey. And then his mind registered John's words. "The one about Harry Potter?"
John nodded eagerly. "They want to get you for it."
Elias gritted his teeth. This was like pulling fingernails. Very painful and completely useless. "Why?"
It was as though a dam had broken. A babble of words tumbled from John's mouth. "The court case. It's going to reveal the secret. They don't want you to reveal the secret." John leaned forward and grabbed Elias's shirt. "It's the biggest secret of the century! It's all so funny that nobody knows." John laughed.
Suddenly, Elias felt a shiver slide down his spine. This was beginning to sound far too similar to what his grandmother's letter said. In fact, he realised, it sounded rather close to what both Potter and Malfoy said in the Pensieves. It's just a coincidence, he argued internally. There was no way the crazy man in front of him managed to work out some huge secret that Elias managed to completely miss.
Elias had to admit though… it had been a bit too simple to access that memory of Potter and Malfoy making love. It was too easy.
"What is the secret?" he asked.
John laughed again and stood up. A few moments later, he came back and dumped a huge box onto Elias's lap. Elias blinked and suddenly realised that it was his grandmother's box.
"It's all in there," John said. "You'll be able to tell people, won't you? You won't let them get away with it, will you? I trust you, Elias."
Elias couldn't help but notice how John looked almost childlike. The man was incredibly tall, but he didn't look it. It was as though John carried himself like a much shorter man. A man who was used to spending his entire life hiding from the general population.
"I'll get us some food!" John said brightly. Obviously, his short attention span had been used up. "And don't worry," he said with a laugh, "I'll lock the door. You won't be able to leave."
Somehow, Elias didn't think he would be exactly worrying about not being able to leave.
###
The door wouldn't open. Check.
The windows were sealed shut and boarded over from the outside. Check.
He didn't have his wand with him. Check.
The door still wouldn't open. Check.
It took Elias exactly twenty minutes (by the hands of his trusty watch, which he carried around with him at all times) to figure out that there was no exit to the room. By then, he had needed to sit back down again. Elias wondered if he had a slight concussion. His mind wasn't feeling normal. In fact, given that he was on the verge of accepting the story of the madman, well, that certainly proved that point.
Elias looked down at the box. He picked out the old yellowing newspaper clippings. He had already skimmed these before. They were almost self-congratulatory articles talking about how Kingsley Shacklebolt had brought peace to the wizarding world and how crime was at an all time low. One of the articles talked about how all the remaining Death Eaters had been rounded up and how the trials were held in closed court. One of the other articles mentioned how some of the released Death Eater names were a bit of a surprise.
In other words, Elias thought, there was nothing important at all.
He had discovered his grandmother's big secret and had told the Prophet all about it. Elias sighed and looked up at the ceiling. That was supposed to be all. He wasn't supposed to have been kidnapped by a madman.
###
Before this entire experience, if somebody had told Elias to name his least favourite food, he probably would have said that he enjoyed eating most things. And that would have been the truth. Elias had surprised his classmates at Hogwarts when he would eat spinach with as much relish as chocolate cake. Elias sometimes wondered if this was the true reason why he was fat. He really didn't dislike any kind of food. It was all delicious to him. Of course, he had favourites, but every food was different and still nice to him.
Of course, Elias hadn't counted on being locked in a house with a madman who persisted on feeding him beans on toast every day.
Elias had lost count of the number of days he had been here, but he was positive he'd had at least twenty meals worth of baked beans on toast. Cold baked beans on toast.
His digestive system was suffering and so was his palate. Not to mention the fact he had nothing to distract himself except the Pensieves.
Not for the first time in the past few days, Elias wished that he was gay and into voyeurism. It would have made things more fun. Potter and Malfoy seemed to have dumped a lot of their lovemaking memories into the Pensieve. Not surprising though, Elias admitted. Obviously neither of them wanted to think about the other one once they went back to their wives and white picket fence lives.
He was completely and utterly sick of reading Muggle Wars by now. He had also realised that despite being a thick book that had been the definitive text on the Muggle Wars for over a century, it was really a badly written book. It had almost no analysis on how both wars had ended.
"Dinner," John said cheerfully, bringing another plate of cold beans on toast.
Elias gritted his teeth and wondered if he could simply stop eating and starve.
###
Elias thought this one was probably an earlier memory. Neither Potter nor Malfoy seemed to have the jumpiness they had in later memories. They were still bickering though. Bickering relentlessly.
"It seems everywhere I go, I see more Muggle things," Malfoy complained.
Potter glared at him. "Stop being so ethnocentric."
Malfoy sneered. "Learned a new word today at the Ministry, did we?"
"They're making our lives easier," Potter countered. "Wouldn't you prefer to be in the comfort of a car rather than having the risk of splinching yourself? Wouldn't you rather talk into a phone rather than singing your eyebrows over the fireplace?"
Malfoy just rolled his eyes.
###
"Don't you see it?" John's tone was almost pleading.
Elias threw his hands up in frustration. "I haven't a clue what you want me to see."
John just stared at him. "I put it together from that book," he indicated at Muggle Wars, "and your article."
Elias sighed and stopped himself from correcting the other man yet again that he didn't actually write the article.
"Read between the lines," John urged.
"Why don't you just tell me?"
"I tried," John burst out. "You don't get it and I … don't explain myself too well."
Elias resisted the urge to bang his head against a wall. He really was a bit too old to be getting into masochistic practices like that.
###
Elias had read somewhere that epiphanies tended to happen slowly and then suddenly. Least he was almost positive that the author was talking about epiphanies. The author could have been talking about craziness.
And this theory certainly rated as being crazy. Possibly one of the craziest theories of all time. Yet, it made sense. Elias wondered if he was just going insane. Perhaps John's insanity was catching.
Still, Elias decided that he might as well follow his new theory wherever it led him. It wasn't as though he had anything else to do.
###
"Have you noticed," Malfoy said slowly, "that there are more Muggle things around nowadays? People seem to be accepting it. They seem happy."
Potter had a disturbed expression on his face. "Ginny bought herself a mobile a few weeks back. She's made friends with a couple of Muggle women and now they're ringing each other almost every day."
"Really makes you think, doesn't it?" Malfoy's tone was bland. "We've all been assimilated so neatly."
###
Now that Elias had pieced it all together, he was horrified. Potter was right. It was impossible that people could have missed it. It was outright ridiculous that in a hundred and fifty years, only Draco Malfoy and a crazy man whose name may or may not have been John, managed to see what should have been really obvious. Yet it was true. Nobody had seen it.
John watched him carefully.
"This can't be true," Elias croaked.
John shrugged. "Truth is relative," he said, sounding sane for once. "It's true that we've had years and years and years of peace. It's true that magi-Muggle relations have been at an all time high. It's true that crime is at an all time low. It's true that people feel safe and happy. It's also true that Kingsley Shacklebolt made a deal in the first Muggle war. The second war was just for show. It was just a cold war. And it's true that the Muggles have been in control of our worldfor the past hundred and fifty years." He tilted his head to one side. "They're doing a pretty good job, aren't they?"
Elias swallowed. John sounded like he hadn't considered that before. It was true though. The Muggles were doing a good job. A far better job than they did on their own affairs. From what Elias had seen on Muggle TV, the Muggle world was always having wars and conflicts. Perhaps, there was something for secret interference in governance that worked.
That thought tasted like ashes.
He now understood what his grandmother had been on about when she wrote about responsibility. Obviously, Rita Skeeter hadn't felt able to reveal this truth to the wizarding world.
Elias picked up the bowl of floo powder and hesitated.
Can I do it? he asked himself. Destroy 150 years of peace?
Slowly, Elias put the bowl down.
"You're not going to tell people?" John asked, his brow furrowed. "Why not? I've convinced you, haven't I?"
Elias looked at John. "I can't," he said quietly. "I know you don't understand, but I really can't. I've already done enough. If they do come after me, I'll explain that." He waved his arms around. "I can't destroy this world."
There was a blank look on John's face, before the other man smiled cheerfully. "Would you like a popsicle?"
"Sure," Elias said. "I'd love one." As he watched John retreat to the other room, he couldn't help realising that this room no longer felt like a prison. John still carried his wand around. Elias didn't have his wand. But Elias knew he could escape at any point. John trusted him.
His mind turned to the fairy tale his grandmother always told him. He could have never guessed that it was the story of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.
Elias sighed. He wished that they had gotten their happy ending.
John came back. As they both sat there, eating their popsicles, Elias reached over and pulled the second Pensieve over. He wanted to watch his favourite memory again.
###
Draco Malfoy was sitting at a mahogany desk, biting his lip as he was writing intently. From what Elias could see, Malfoy was trying to write a letter to his wife, telling her that they could no longer be together.
Potter came up from behind and laid a gentle hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "You can't," he said quietly.
Malfoy looked up. Elias always shivered at the look of utter sadness in his eyes. "I know," he said as he pushed the letter aside.
Potter brushed a stray hair away from his lover's face. "Did we make the right decision?"
"We'll know soon enough. I hope the peace lasts." Malfoy stood up.
Elias normally didn't like watching people kiss. It felt too much like an intrusion on what should be a private moment. However, he couldn't stop watching this one. It was tenderness, regret and hope for the future all rolled into one. It wasn't a particularly passionate kiss, but it was full of love and that was why Elias enjoyed watching it.
Potter pulled away. "I have to go."
Malfoy nodded and watched as the other man left the room. "I love you, Harry," Malfoy whispered.
-fin