Chapter 2: The Nightmare

Parchment was strewn about the floor. One could hardly consider the assortment of paper organized, but there was certainly something to be said about the different varieties in the writings, and their location as well. On one side of Albus Potter's bed, newspapers covered the carpet. Some of them crumbled up, others stacked neatly; all of them withgreat moving pictures on them directly underneath tall black letters that radiated importance. On the other side was a pile of smaller pieces of paper; letters. Albus wasn't sure which one he wanted to comb through first.

Returning from the bathroom, he stepped over a flattened newspaper bearing the headlineKingsley Denies Allegations of Silver Wizard Cooperation, nearly sliding into a split as his foot connected with the mostuncaredfor version of the Prophet in his collection, the one that read Waddlesworth Declares Candidacy for Prime Minister. He picked up the most recent issue, flattened it, and sunk his teeth into the front page.

Fischer Funeral Held; More Than A Hundred Pay Respects

After more than two months of controversy surrounding the nature of former Head Auror Janine Fischer's death, the body was given a proper burial today. Fischer, who was killed in the line of duty by Harry "The Man Who Murdered" Potter (under the guise of the Silver Wizard) in the month of May, was placed in a coffin adorned in lavender robes, the Ministry of Magic emblem emblazoned at the top. The coffin was then ignited by magical fire and subsequently lowered into a plot next to the graves of grandfather Boris and uncle Stuart (killed during the first and second war with Voldemort, respectfully). More than one hundred attended to witness the burial.

"My daughter dedicated her life to the Ministry of Magic" said Fischer's tearful mother, Joanna, 65. "It sounds awful, but this is how she would have wanted to go-or something like it. Doing everything that she could to help the Wizarding World, and doing it in service to the Ministry that she loved."

Fischer's death came during an investigation of Dark Alliance activity, which ultimately led her to a scene of battle between Dark Alliance members, unaffiliated Renegades, and Potter. Her outstanding courage and intense desire to do everything that she could tointervene in the battle was commemorated at the burial with a posthumous awarding of the Order of Merlin, first class. The award was given to her mother.

"She deserves more" says Wizengamot member Grady Roots, 55. "Ms. Fischer exemplified all of the characteristics that the Ministry of Magic values in its Defence Force. Skilled, tenacious, and eager for justice, I believe that Ms. Fischer has sent a powerful message to those who believed that the Ministry of Magic was not fully willing to offer their very lives for the safety of the public!"

Roots was one of several Ministry members in attendance, along side both friends and family of Fischer. Conspicuously absent from the service was Kinglsey Shacklebolt, who, since announcing his official resignation in mid-June, has made few public appearances, and was not expected at this one.

In his stead however, current Minister of Magic candidate Warren Waddlesworth was present at the service. Waddlesworth had this to say:

"Ms. Fischer was a brilliant witch and an extraordinary human being. Her surprising and highly untimely death-as well as the bizarre circumstances surrounding it- serve as a harsh reminder of the dangerous times in which we live in. My greatest sympathies go out to Ms. Fischer's family, as well as my assurances that her death-a product of her vehement opposition of terrorism-will not go unavenged."

When inquired about his stance on Fischer's highly vocal anti-Renegade views, Waddlesworth clarified the confusion.

"Ms. Fischer was quite right to be against the vigilante justice portrayed by those who were present at the scene of her death. Debacles like this 'Silver Wizard' fiasco are created by individuals who are unsure of their allegiances and who act upon their confusion with blatant disregard for others. We here at Wands and Redemption aim to eliminate this potential problem by ensuring that the only enemy we face is Sebastian Darvy and those associated with him. Wands and Redemption is for the public, and by extension, we support the Ministry as well. It is my belief that anyone who opposes injustice and terrorism-as Janine Fischer clearly did-is a Renegade at heart; someone who will take a stand against those who would seek to disrupt the safety of the people. Ms. Fishcer's unfortunate death is an indication that now more than ever we all need to band together. No one wizard or group can end this threat alone."

Waddlesworth announced his candidacy for Minister of Magic almost immediately after Shacklebolt stepped down. The circumstances for his resignation have led to the approval of the first popular vote election for Minister of Magic since 1827, when Timothy Wallace was elected Minister of Magic with seventy-three percent of the vote-

Albus tossed the paper down, disgusted. Every single article, whether it was on the front page, somewhere in the middle, or even in the very back of the edition, had Waddlesworth's name somewhere. It was not surprising however, considering the amountthat had occurred in just the last few weeks.

Since Albus had left the castle, Warren Waddlesworth had easily become the most popular name in all of the Wizarding World. Even in the midst of a soon-to-be fully fledged war, and with his father-once arguably the most famous wizard in the world-imprisoned, it was the announcement of Waddlesworth's run at Minister of Magic that had graced the front page of every Daily Prophet that his eyes caught sight of.

Albus glanced down at the discarded paper, giving a disdainful glare. No mention of any other burials. No comments about any other victims-any other murders that had occurred that day. For a single, wild moment, he wondered if Blackwood's funeral had gotten any attention. Then he remembered that Fairhart had scooped up her body before he'd left. As far as the world knew, Ida Blackwood was still alive. Not that they even knew that she had existed...

He heaved a sigh and removed himself from his bed, now turning the other way to face the side of the room that had letters all over the floor. It was the evening, but as it was a hot August night, it was still bright enough outside for him to read things by the window. Albus took one look at his floor in an attempt to find what he was looking for, his eyes getting caught for a fraction of a second on the only official looking piece of parchment that was there: his O.W.L results. Moving it to a neater location on his bed side table, he allowed himself one more read through of his marks.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass grades

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Albus Severus Potter has achieved:

Astronomy: A

Care For Magical Creatures: E

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: A

History of Magic: P

Muggle Studies: A

Potions: O

Transfiguration: A

Albus had been quite pleased with his scores when they'd first arrived, and indeed, he remained surprised by his good Charms result in particular. At this point in time, however, he was far more interested in a more important letter. He picked up the topmost envelope from the stack near his bed; it was unsealed. He recognized the neat handwriting on the front, as he'd become accustomed to it, and he gave it a shifty grin as he realized what the letter would probably entail. Last time she had sounded worried. This time, it'd have to be angry.

He tore into Mirra's letter at once, knowing full well that it wouldn't have much, as it was light. Unfolding the letter, his eyes scanned over the few words written down.

You know what, fine. I don't even care anymore. Go!

The dot that was part of the exclamation point was a spiky small "x", a sharp contrast to the miniscule heart used for her second, seventh, and twelfth sent letters. Albus sighed and placed the piece of paper down on top of the stack, his eyes catching sight of the previous letter.

Albus, please don't go. It's not worth it, and you know it. Please.

All of the letters that he'd received thus far from his girlfriend this summer has followed along these lines, bar of course the Happy Birthday card that had ostensibly mentioned all of the reasons why she was with him, including his "ability to make the right decisions" and his "determination in keeping every promise".

Albus sighed as he remembered his birthday from just a few days ago. Just a few days before his mother's (which had been something of a gloomy affair on its own), Albus had had one of his most awkward birthdays to date. The absence of his father had been most notable, as had been the distinct lack of company-even Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione had been too busy to make it to the unwanted and ultimately lackluster celebration. He recollected on four years ago, when he'd been angry with his father for showing up late to his party. Oh how that would have been preferable to this most recent occasion...

Crack!

Albus spun around, sharply inhaling as he did so. From the light of the window he could see that a person had just materialized onto his bed. James flashed him a smile.

"Is that really necessary?" Albus asked irritably, stashing his letters back into the pile on the floor, where a recent one from Scorpius slid into view.

"Once you can apparate mate, you realize how extremely over-rated walking is."

"You got your license a month ago and you've already decided that using your feet is obsolete?" Albus asked incredulously.

James thought about it for a second. "Yes" he finally said. "Now come downstairs, mum wants all three of us."

"Why?"

"I dunno..."

And with another loud crack! he was gone. Albus sighed as he dug through the letters next to his bed, sorting them again so that Mirra's most recent was on top. Again, he caught eye of Scorpius'. His friend had mentioned a nice surprise once they returned to Hogwarts, and had been in good cheer recently, despite everything else that was going on. Albus wondered vaguely what it was, but before he could ponder it he decided it was in his best interest to hurry downstairs.

He met his sister on the stairs, who was wearing a bewildered expression just like his own.

"When did James get home?" he asked her off-handedly.

"About an hour ago" she said. "You didn't hear him apparate in?"

"I've learned to tune it out" Albus replied darkly.

Fresh out of Hogwarts, James had gotten his apparation license. What's more, however, he'd begun working at Uncle George's shop, one of the few business' still booming despite the grim outlook of the world. According to his mother, it was very hard for anyone to find work outside of the Ministry these days, and it was better for James to not get tied into a job that he wouldn't end up wanting later-thus, it was best that he worked with his uncle for a bit. Albus thought that he saw right through this however. If he didn't know any better, he'd of thought that the Potter name had officially become irreparably frowned upon by all things government.

As his brother was now frequently gone, Albus was prone to long periods of time by either himself or with only his sister for company in the large home. Relatives occasionally stopped by-mostly Uncle Ron and his kids-but it wasn't anywhere near as much as it used to be, and Albus found himself secretly glad for this. Hugo barely spoke to him, and Rose spoke far too much. She had went from annoying to downright unbearable over the course of the summer. She was constantly raving about her boyfriend Lance, who, unlike James, had entered the Ministry immediately after he'd graduated; apparently he was now very high up in the Improper Use of Magic office, especially impressive considering his young age. The only other topic she seemed capable of bringing up was that of Albus' own girlfriend-nonchalant comments about how she was doing, as they were out of touch, and indeed, a couple of seemingly non-confrontational questions about her O.W.L results, which Albus knew was only because Rose wanted to compare them to her own.

Albus lollygaged down the stairs with his sister at his side, curious as to why his mother wanted him, but more than anything wanting to return to his room and continue sifting through the stacks of literature. His brother was already in the kitchen when they arrived, looking relaxed with a cup of tea in his hand. His mother was looking as she usually did these days-tense.

His father's imprisonment had taken its toll on everyone in the family, but Albus was sure that no one was more affected than his mother. For all of the effort that she put into concealing it, Albus knew that it was a truly harrowing experience for her, now forced to watch over the house, deal with all of the family issues, and, perhaps on a more personal note, sleep alone. She was constantly busy these days, though Albus knew that it had little to do with her work as a Quidditch correspondent. Though people rarely visited the house, Albus knew that his mother was now acting very similar to how his father had two years ago, when secretive meetings had been going on under this very roof. It had not taken Albus very long to understand the meaning behind these disappearances. She was keeping in contact with everyone in their circle; assuring everyone that her husband's incarceration was in no way to be a hindrance to whatever it was they had already been doing.

"Good, you're both awake" his mother said upon their entrance, and she placed down a cup of tea for each of them. Lily picked hers up immediately, but Albus simply pulled out a chair.

"I was never asleep" he said, ignoring the steaming cup in front of him.

"Well all three of you need to get to bed soon" his mother said quickly, her eyes looking somewhat sunken from lack of sleep herself.

"That's why you called us down here?" Lily asked, obviously just as bewildered as her siblings.

"Well that and to tell you why" she was answered. "We all need to wake up early tomorrow. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Albus groaned. He had known for a while now that a visit to Diagon Alley was imminent, but he was not keen on walking through the lugubrious streets of the shopping area. James gave a wide smile as he wiped at his mouth.

"Ahh...shopping for school supplies. Memories are flooding my head of the good old days, before I-"

"We're not going to Diagon Alley tomorrow" his mother cut him off, and all three of them raised their eyebrows. "Though we do need to get on that soon...but anyway, we're paying a visit to family tomorrow. Your Uncle Dudley and Aunt Norma, to be exact."

"No!" all three of them shouted indignantly, Albus suddenly hoping that this was all a ruse, meant to put some much needed humor in their lives-that they were indeed going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, which suddenly seemed like the greatest place in the world...

James' growl had been the most noticeable, as it had been accompanied by a sharp fling of the wrist that had knocked his cup to the ground, shattering it.

"James!" his mother yelled.

"Sorry!" he said, whipping out his wand at once. "Reparo" he cried, and the cup pieced itself back together quickly. Another flick and it was back on the table. "It's just- mum- really- we didn't do anything-"

"Honest!" Lily said, her expression horrified. "We really didn't!"

"That's enough" their mother said sternly, eyeing them all. "This isn't a punishment! It's good to see family every once in a while! And besides, it's just a pit-stop anyway. Tomorrow- tomorrow we're going to the Ministry as well."

There was silence in the kitchen while the three of them waited for an explanation.

"As there's no current Minister...Kingsley was able to pull a few strings from behind the scenes" their mother told them all. "Your father is being released from Azkaban for a day. It's highly supervised, and it will be in the Ministry but...we're allowed to visit."

All thoughts of Uncle Dudley fled from Albus' mind. He was numb from shock now; in complete disbelief. He was going to see his father tomorrow...after months.

He felt his inside squirm however. Delight had quickly replaced itself with anxiety. His mother had resumed speaking, but her words were lost because of his own thoughts. How would his father look at him? Would he be pleased with his son? Or would he look at him with shame? With a feeling of blame that he would never outwardly say, but surely, that he was dwelling on? And what would his father even look like? What would several long weeks in Azkaban have done to him?

"-I don't know how long we'll be able to see him, but hopefully long enough for you to all hear that he's okay from his own mouth."

Albus looked up, catching the last bit of this sentence. James was trying desperately to conceal his excitement, but it was showing clearly in the lines on his face. Lily was making no effort however, she was beaming and looking close to tears. Albus wondered inwardly what the expression on his face looked like. Fortunately, it appeared as though no one was paying attention.

"I'm not finished yet" their mother continued, sounding somewhat strained. Their smiles all collectively fell slightly. "There's something that we need to go over."

They all exchanged a glance of interest before their mother spoke. When she did so, it sounded as though she'd recited this particular part.

"The Ministry of Magic is not a bad place" she started. "Nor should you feel any animosity towards it. But we still must be careful about what we sayand how we act. This meeting with your father is a very private affair. It is best that we not tell anyone why we are there-just because we want to avoid questions. Likewise, and I can't stress this enough, we must be careful about what we say.There's nothing to suggest that this visit won't be monitored closely, and that means no asking your father sensitive questions, and also-" her eyes flickered directly on Albus for a moment-" no recounting any stories. Understood?"

They all nodded in unison, Lily and James' expressions reverting back to how they'd been. Albus, however, grasped more from the conversation than they had. His father's imprisonment was dependant entirely on the story that he'd given the Ministry; the falsified tale of Fischer's murder. More importantly, this was done so only to protect Albus from expulsion and other dangers that could befall him without the safety of the castle throughout the year. If Albus even let one thing slip to indicate that things had went differently than how his father said that they had...

It would probably end up resulting in the eventual release and clearing of his father's name. But this was not what his father wanted at all-for some inexplicable reason, he wanted things exactly how they were now. Albus was not going to betray his trust on that part.

With a pang in his gut, he realized that betraying his father's trust was exactly what he'd been contemplating all summer. Indeed, it was the subject of the constant letters from Mirra. Albus had still not decided what to do with that dilemma however.

"Now you three get to bed" his mother said suddenly, snapping him from his thoughts. "And don't forget to lay out your clothes tonight, I want you all to look your best tomorrow. Uncle Dudley loves healthy looking children!"

"Makes us look more edible" James commented lowly on his way out, something that thankfully wasn't heard by his mother.

Albus trudged up the stairs with his head down, his brother and sister chatting enthusiastically ahead of him. His mind was wondering away when he actually reached his room, where he collapsed on his bed in a single motion.

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day, that was for sure. He turned on his side, thinking that he'd write back to Mirra tomorrow night-it was probably best that he got some sleep now, like his mother had suggested. He blinked his eyes shut as he pulled the covers over himself, going over again in his head all of the possible scenarios of tomorrow. The meeting with Uncle Dudley and his family would be arduous at best, made even more interminable by the fact that it would be postponing the visit to his father. Or perhaps, it would go by faster because of the impending meeting. After all, time always went by faster when you were in no hurry, and considering what his father's reaction might be to his appearance, maybe he wasn't all that eager to meet him.

Your father loves you! said a voice in his head. That's why he's in Azkaban!

That's right, the same voice said, only it was darker. I'm the reason he's in Azkaban...

He kept his eyes shut and tried to clear his mind, knowing that it was impossible, but still giving it all of the effort that he could muster. He was nodding off now...his mind was becoming less crammed. Now he was drifting...drifting...further now...and now he was running...

But where he was running, he didn't know. Everything in front of him was pitch black. It was only the sound of his own panting and footsteps that made him realize he was even moving at such a fast pace. He wanted desperately to slow down and catch this breath, but he couldn't be sure that he wasn't already so close...to wherever it was he was going.

Suddenly, a light appeared. A brilliant gold was hovering in mid-air, but it appeared to only be facing one way-the direction in which he was running. But that was strange. How could light be facing a certain way?

The next thing he knew, the footsteps sounded doubled. He was still running through pitch darkness, the light ahead of him moving at almost the same pace, but not really taking him anywhere. He was getting closer to it now, though. Close enough to make out its source...

It was a person. There was a person running, right in front of him, leading him. That explained the light. The golden beam was coming from this person, and the direction that they were facing; it was coming from their face. Their eyes.

Albus sped up to reach the person, intent on asking them how close they were to their destination. He finally managed to reach out a hand, grabbing the shoulder of the person sprinting ahead and spinning them around-

He screamed. It was himself, exactly as he always looked, only his face was harsher, more maleficent. There was a sadistic smirk to it, and those eyes...they were glowing golden. Albus knew this appearance well. His exact relationship with it he couldn't quite figure out, not now, he was too tired. But it was very important, he knew that much-

The golden eyed Albus grabbed him by the throat; he was absurdly strong. Albus felt the air squeeze from his lungs as his doppelganger wrapped both hands around his neck, pressing down viciously, its teeth bared. Albus instinctively clutched the hands of his would-be-killer, trying to pry the fingers away,but he was slipping from consciousness. He sunk down to his knees, too weak to properly combat this foe that, for some reason, he couldn't spot any weakness in. It was superior to him in every visible way.

He collapsed onto the floor, his fingers loosening, unable to do much in his efforts to save himself. The golden eyed Albus was now looking down at him, its hands still wrapped around his neck. It was laughing now, laughing uproariously-

Albus shot up in his bed, breathing heavy. He could feel sweat trickling down his neck as he immediately reached for his own throat, which was cool and unharmed. It had all just been a dream. He felt pain flicker behind his eyes however; an unsettling pain that made his stomach churn.

"No" he said into the darkness of his room. "Not again..."