Mum and Dad,
I feel positively awful for not writing earlier. My time at Hogwarts has been swamped with coursework, and I haven't had an opportunity to write home since our arrival. As you've likely heard by now, both Rose and I were sorted to Gryffindor. I enjoy my housemates a lot, and Gryffindor tower is definitely cozy enough. I have made friends with a muggleborn named Dan, and we get along famously. Also, I've been introduced to the theory professor's niece, Valerie. She's very strange, even by muggle standards, but seems to be friendly and helpful.
Has dad tracked down any of the attackers from last week? I hope he hasn't been working in the field again. He should listen to the healers more often, and both James and I worry for his health. I'd love to tell you about my classes, but breakfast is nearly over. I figured that you would prefer to get a half-letter today rather than a full one tomorrow.
I love you,
Albus
Albus tied the parchment around his owl's leg and set the bird off into the air. He was worried about his dad, who had developed an impressive collection of scars over the course of his auror career. He had recently taken a reductor curse to the shoulder and had been strongly urged to rest before attempting any physical activity.
Of course, Albus knew his father would resign before staying in his office all day. He was committed to keeping his aurors safe, at any cost. His parents frequently rowed about his hero complex, and Albus sometimes wished he would transfer elsewhere in the ministry. Every auror, if he stayed long enough, would eventually meet wands with a luckier wizard. Things weren't nearly as dangerous as they used to be, though. His father hadn't lost anybody for several years, but tensions were building again in the wizarding world. Albus knew his dad wouldn't leave the position until the entire country was safe, and such a state was impossible. Every time a rouge wizard was captured, another madman would start slaughtering elsewhere.
Albus had enjoyed a relaxed morning so far. He wasn't scheduled for an eight o'clock class, and he didn't have to spend time getting up from bed – because he hadn't gone to bed. His theory homework kept him busy well into the early morning, and he decided that he'd probably miss class altogether if he tried to sleep.
Not having Dan or Rose around was uncomfortable. Not necessarily because he needed them around, although he did enjoy their company, but because he knew where they were. Both students were currently enjoying their first Charms class.
"Oi, Potter!" said a voice from behind him. He turned and, with a good deal of surprise, met the face of Scorpius Malfoy.
"What do you need, Malfoy?" replied Albus flatly.
"You should be more friendly, Albus. I have information that would, if you were privy to it, make your life immeasurably better."
Albus had been warned about the Malfoys. They were notorious for exchanging secrets and favors for influence. His aunt Hermione unconditionally detested the lot of them, especially since the defeat of her house-elf reformation bill. Of course, on the other hand, his father had also told him to never judge a man by his family.
"What are you talking about, Scorpius?" asked Albus. He intentionally used the boy's first name as an olive branch. He hoped the young Malfoy was better-mannered than his relatives.
"The Slytherins didn't take too kindly toward your eagerness in class yesterday. I would advise you to speak less freely around the rest of my house."
"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" hissed Albus.
"Yes, it's a threat. Although it doesn't come directly from me... There is a game being played at Hogwarts this year."
"Who would hurt me? I doubt you could do much more magic than me, Malfoy."
Scorpius shut his eyes and took a quick breath. "Shut up, and listen to me Potter. There are dangerous people inside this school. If you make yourself bigger of a target – and I assure you that you're already one – then bad things will happen."
"Why do you care?"
"Because Harry Potter saved my father's life. This is me paying the debt."
"I hardly think the two favors equate… I don't have Lord Voldemort on my heels."
"What's coming for you is worse than the Dark Lord."
"Bullocks."
"I have warned you Potter. The debt is paid."
The trim of his cloak brushed against Al's shoulder as the boy turned and marched from the Gryffindor table. He stepped with a type of precision, Albus noticed, as if Scorpius Malfoy was closely watching his own actions.
O
"Miss Weasley, what have you chosen for your project?" asked the professor. The class had marinated overnight, and Albus could feel the conflict in the air. Scorpius was eyeing Al warily, and he subtly shook his head when they locked gazes. Albus ignored him.
"I decided to test the second causation principle, sir."
Albus wasn't sure which chapter her topic had originated from, and apparently nobody else knew either. None of the other students reacted in any extreme manner. Most of them shot confused looks at neighbors, trying to ascertain what the hell Rose Weasley had just said.
The only other person who seemed to know anything about her principle was the professor. He reared his head back and laughed a good deal.
"I did not expect that at all, especially from a first year. I should reprimand you for being cocky, although I suppose I did say 'no rules'. You are living up to your status of Gryffindor, since your endeavor will certainly require more courage than wit, should you properly test it. Please see me later in the semester, the moment you figure out how you'll approach it."
A Ravenclaw from a corner of the room raised his hand and coughed, to get Odette's attention. "That's not very fair" he said, rolling his eyes. "We were told to choose from the textbook, not from ministry reports."
"No matter, Mr. Jones. I will accept her submission, if only to break away from the monotony of everyone else. You are free to do so also, if you can think of a similar project by the end of class. Do I have any volunteers to share their topic of choice?"
He looked directly at Scorpius.
"I have chosen," Malfoy began with a smirk, "to defend the first tenet of magical theory, that any natural action can be duplicated, more easily, by using magic."
The professor tilted an eyebrow. "But you would be working examples for centuries, demonstrating every possible spell individually. How do you plan to test it?"
Malfoy sat back in his seat, relaxed, and said, "you can assign me one action you believe magic can't do. If I create the spell, I win. If not, I lose."
"That's a gross simplification of science, Mr. Malfoy. It would prove nothing if you were successful. Although I will play along, to prove a point. I will task you to do something that I've been meaning to tackle myself. Please join me later for instructions."
He took a breath before continuing, "and what has Mr. Potter decided?"
"To test the nature of apparition, specifically it's speed and route. The book instructs us that apparition is both instantaneous AND a direct path from one point to another."
"And why does that seem odd to you, Albus? Do you mean to say that you are more likely to trust Albert Einstein than Great Merlin himself?"
Albus didn't respond. Every student in the room was looking at him, eager to see the boy tie his own noose. He was about to commit political suicide, and everybody knew it.
"I think we should consider every possibility, if we want to understand magic better."
He expected an uproar from the Slytherins, scoffing from the Ravenclaws, even harsh looks from his own house. What he didn't expect was the utter silence that followed. Every person fell back to whatever they were doing before, with the exception of Scorpius Malfoy, who tightened his grip on the edge of his desk and dug his fingernails into the wood.
The class continued with a few more discussions about project submissions – some were ingenious, enough to delight the professor, but many were downright pathetic. Every Slytherin in the class had, naturally, defended the textbook.
"Now, students…" Professor Odette began, "it's time to begin our journey of magical theory. It will prove uncomfortable for most, pleasurable for some, and likely fatal for a few."
The students shared a moment of nervous laughter. Albus could faintly hear someone behind him. "What the fu – "
"Never fear, though!" exclaimed their instructor. "As dangerous as our experiments may be, even our discussions at times, you'll find yourselves to be better wizards for it. It will be our goal – for the next seven years – to accomplish something which has eluded all men for millennia. Yours will be the first generation to do what used to be impossible – to reconcile magic and man, to close the divide between truth and folly. It will be you - a group of children - to prove the might of wizardry, and I suspect some of your names will be revered for centuries."
The room was filled with a pregnant silence. Even the Slytherins were hanging off the edges of their seats, faces marked with concentration.
"I ask each of you now, individually, what are you willing to sacrifice? Which notions are you willing to set aside for greatness? Are you prepared to anger your friends – to lose your prejudices in the wake of a better world? Do you have the ability to change your very soul… because if you do – if you are capable of it – then you would take the world by storm. You could be the Merlin of a new era.
The professor raised his head, sweeping the room with a stern gaze.
"Each of you, by the time we're finished here, will have the ability to save our planet from the conflicts of tomorrow. You will make time, space, and energy bend to your will. The most important question you'll have to answer, after all is said and finished, is whether you'll be a force of goodwill, acting for the interest of all, or whether you will be a destroyer of worlds, a harbinger of destruction aiding only yourself. It will be my job to teach you, and I will certainly do so, but I am also responsible for what you do after you leave this classroom. Because of the seriousness of our studies, I warn you not to give me any reason to doubt your intentions. No Voldemort will be spawned from my lecturing. That, I promise you, is a certainty."
Albus exhaled a breath, one that he'd been holding for a while, and looked down into his hands. He wasn't sure what would come of Odette's meddling with magic, but a quick peek toward the Slytherin corner confirmed that it wasn't going to be good. Most of the green-clad students were glassy-eyed, carefully considering their own positions within the classroom.
Dan leaned toward Albus, eyes still transfixed on the professor, and whispered, "Wouldn't be Hogwarts without a barmy teacher, eh?"
