Albus Potter and the War Within

by Vekin87

Sequel to Albus Potter and the Fortress of the Dead. The seventh and final entry in my Albus Potter series. Notice: this installment contains scenes of graphic violence. I advise parents to read first before reading to their children. Enjoy, everyone!

6. The Truce

Chapter 6: The Truce

All around him, he could see only black.

Albus walked through the abyss gingerly, his footsteps leaving tiny, baleful echoes behind him, his sense of direction as distorted as possible. He didn't know which way he was going-or if there was somewhere to go to, for that matter-but he knew after looking down that he blended in with the colorless void around him. He was in his Hogwarts robes.

He felt himself trembling as he took each step, an odd sensation forcing him back with every thrust of his body. It was like walking through water, only he was not wet in anyway. Each of his marches grew more arduous the further into the darkness he went, until, finally, he was forced to turn around.

A face was looking back at him.

Albus tensed up, his fists clenching. There it was, again, somehow still alive. That perpetual nightmare-that demonic apparition that frightened him beyond all else. Eyes golden and lips curled, it mirrored his body language perfectly, until it tilted its head to the side, almost as though curious as to what he was doing in its realm.

"I got rid of you," Albus told it, standing his ground. Engaging it seemed to drain him, though; already he felt his knees buckling.

"Rid of I?" the second Albus answered back, head still tilted.

"You should be gone!" Albus argued with himself.

"Should you be?"

"I- I defeated you. Before..."

Yes, he remembered that. His dreams had stopped, hadn't they? He'd wrestled his doppelganger to the ground before, and he'd won!

But the nightmarish iteration of himself was shaking its head, almost condescendingly. "Before...I defeated you," it told him, pointing at its chest.

Albus made to argue with it, to deny this claim, but he stopped before he could even begin. Something was different this time...

"Are you...just repeating what I'm saying?"

"What are you saying?"

Albus stepped backed from it, his palms sweaty. He wiped his hands on his robes to occupy them, and suddenly, he had the desire to run-to run as far into the void as he could go.

"Fairhart said that you should have left," Albus told himself, thinking of the letter.

But his double only sneered. "Fairhart left you."

Albus roared and flew at it, mustering what little strength he had in him into a single lunge. He knew that this time was different, knew that he wasn't stronger this time, but he didn't care; he wanted only to show that he still meant to fight it. He grabbed at the collar of his nemesis and threw him to the ground, then climbed atop of him and began punching his face as hard as he could-

He felt his strength grow every time his fist made contact. At first there was a struggle, but once he'd developed a motion there was no defending against it. Instead he continued to pound away, feeling his knuckles turn raw as they slammed into bone and tore at flesh, and he only stopped when he could no longer see the face that he was attacking, for a dark yellow light had started shielding his eyes...

Laughing at his immense success, he looked down at his victim, who had stopped squirming a long time ago. His face was a bloody pulp, thick ooze leaking from his nose and mouth, and spread into his hair, but his eyes were still open, only they'd changed. They were emerald green...

Albus opened his green eyes, the darkness evaporating in one smooth motion and being replaced immediately by white. He was lying down still, but he was in the real world, and though the terror that had enveloped him in his dream had made him want to sit upright, he found himself incapable. Only his head could be moved.

And yet, things felt serene. Memories were sifting about in his head now that he was awake, and though he could move his head only slightly to the sides, he recognized that he was still within the headquarters of the Lions; he was in the medical area that he'd seen before. Despite his stiffness he was able to make out the red hangings that separated him from the others, but when he'd fully adjusted to his surroundings he managed to distinguish another presence in the room. Someone was sitting on a chair by the uncomfortable cot in which he was lying, and moreover, it was somebody that he knew.

"No way," he bemoaned, turning his head away from Charles Eckley.

"Someone's cranky," Eckley replied, now rising; apparently he'd just noticed that Albus was conscious.

But Albus was looking away defiantly now, as far as his limited mobility could take him, anyway, refusing to look at his caretaker. He simply refused to believe that Eckley was here, watching over him, possibly even responsible for the magic that bound him to this bed. Whatever his beliefs, though, reality sank in quickly, as Eckley walked around him to look him in the face.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, and Albus didn't respond at first.

Instead, he compared Eckley to the last time he'd seen him. It had been in the snow, when the Hogwarts express had been attacked. They'd dueled, albeit briefly, but nothing had come of it due to the events that had transpired next. This Eckley looked somewhat different though; not necessarily in overall looks, but rather, in the way that he carried himself. He still had that straw colored hair, that handsome, symmetrical face, even that confident look about him, but the boyishness of it was gone now, replaced by that intangible, yet somehow discernible appearance of experience. He looked somewhat hardened, his bulkiness toned down slightly, as easily revealed through a red t-shirt, and there was an aura about him that suggested a strong mental composure of sorts.

"Bad," Albus finally admitted, though this time he didn't try working his head away. In truth, things had softened between him and Eckley recently, aside from their skirmish that day in the snow. They'd both matured somewhat, Eckley in particular due to the added responsibilities of being a Prefect, and for the better part of last year they'd managed to reach a mutual state of indifference with one another.

As Eckley surveyed him here, though, like a hunter undecided as to whether he was going to pity his caught prey, Albus felt that ambiguity shift more towards dislike.

"What are you doing here?" Albus finally asked him, finding the situation unbearable.

"Me?" Eckley said, looking confused. "You're the one that busted in here!"

"Right, right, I get that you're part of this lot," Albus said. "But can you at least find me someone in charge that I can talk to?"

"Well that won't take long," Eckley said, sitting back in his seat. "As that would be me."

"You?"

"Me and my brothers," he revealed, and he held out his arms simply. "We started this group, and settled into this place too. It's temporary, but I think it fits okay..."

"You and your brothers, huh?" Albus said, staring at him boldly. "You guys founded the Lions?"

"That's right," Eckley told him. "Chris you already met; he's the one that put you in here."

Albus heaved as much of a sigh as his restrained body would let him. Annoyed though he was that he'd somehow managed to come across Charles Eckley while on his way to finding Fango Wilde, he was at least pleased to know that things were making sense now. The Eckley brothers-though Albus had never even see the others, apart from just being stunned by one-he knew to all be devout Gryffindors. This explained more than the childish name though; their main place of activity had resembled Hogwarts so much to him because it had probably been crafted in that way.

He supposed that the ordeal that he'd gotten himself into now wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been; he didn't think that Eckley was going to let anyone torture or kill him, anyway, but all the same, he found it difficult to derive any sort of pleasure from his current situation. Eckley seemed to be reveling in it though, or perhaps he was simply taking his leadership seriously, for when he spoke now it was in a tone that suggested a certain degree of authority.

"Look," he started, "however surprised you are to see me, it's nothing to what it is for me to see you. So if you don't mind, I'd like to get a few answers from you before this goes any further."

"What, are you going to interrogate me?" Albus asked, half-sarcastically, but Eckley did not deny the accusation.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Just got lost,'s all..."

"Do you think that this some kind of a joke?"

"Honestly?" Albus lashed out, "it's occurred to me, yeah. I'm having a hard time believing that you and your brothers are-"

"Believe it," Eckley interjected. "We started up right when Larson split off and formed the Protectors. It'd been mulling in my head for a while, but after Waddlesworth's Ministry fell, it just made the most sense. Now, I'm only going to ask this one more time. What brings you to the Lion's Den?"

Albus managed a derisive snort. "You are, by far, the corniest-"

"You can say whatever you want about me, but I'm not the one that needs permission to get up and use the bathroom now, am I?"

"Oh that's real cute mate, big tough guy when I've already been stunned-"

"Just tell me why you're here!"

"I got lost, okay!" Albus lied, now very angry at the way that he was being ordered about.

"Lost, eh?" Eckley repeated. "And somehow, in your wandering, you managed to pick up a bewitched Hogwarts tie and stumble into a magically hidden location?"

Albus had no response for this, but Eckley did not seem content with him being quiet, as he then proceeded even further in his questions. "And we also found one of our members passed out in an alley. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that now, would you?"

Albus looked away from him. "Times are getting tough," he said, "easy to get lost in the bottle-"

He heard a chair screech, and when he turned again he saw that Eckley had stood and turned to leave. "If you don't feel like answering now, I guess I can let you lie here another night-"

"Another night!?" Albus blurted out. "How long have- how long was I out-"

"About a full day," Eckley revealed, turning back for a moment. "We could have revitalized you earlier, but there were things to be done and all."

Albus could only lie in horror at this news. A full day wasted-more precious time down the drain. The Protectors had had Wilde for at least two days now...

"Okay, I'll tell you!" Albus conceded, stopping Eckley in his tracks. "I- I'm looking for someone, okay?"

Eckley slowly turned, narrowing his deep brown eyes at him. Then, he sat back down by the bedside. "Who?"

Albus swallowed, trying to find an acceptable answer. It would have to be something plausible, though not correct-

"Is it Fango Wilde?"

Albus stared at him. "What- what are you talking about? I don't even know-"

But then Eckley had leaned over, and Albus could hear the sound of a bag being unzipped. At the next moment, his rival had produced a still photograph; the picture of Wilde and Fairhart that he'd taken before.

"Bit of a curious thing to be carrying around," Eckley said, looking back and forth between Albus and the image. "Now why would someone need a picture of Fango Wilde on hand..."

"So what, you went through my stuff?" Albus said though gritted teeth, and despite whatever enchantments were on him, he felt as though his body was shaking.

"Just a little bit," Eckley admitted. "Don't worry, I stayed out of your clothes; I'm beyond certain things. What's with the flowery boxers?"

"A gift from my girlfriend," Albus lied; in truth, he didn't want Eckley knowing that his mother still did his underwear shopping. That he'd managed to connotate it to Eckley's former girlfriend was something of a bonus as well.

Surprisingly though, Eckley laughed. "Well played," he said, "but that doesn't change the fact you're carrying some pretty interesting stuff on you. So again, mind telling me why you've got a picture of Fango Wilde on you? Or is it the other bloke you're looking for?"

He doesn't recognize Fairhart without his scar, Albus realized, though he still gave no response.

"Not talking?" Eckley goaded. "Fair enough, next item of business then-this is a neat little bottle, isn't it?"

He'd produced one of the vials of Mortem Necavero. At this Albus felt his face harden, though now he was working vigorously in his head to defend this particular possession.

"Seems like you've got a few of them in here, actually," Eckley continued, still apparently digging through his bag.

"It's just water," Albus lied.

"Water, huh?"

"That's right."

Eckley grinned, then uncorked the vial. "So if I just take a swig then...?"

"No!" Albus yelled. Whatever his thoughts were of Eckley, he had no way of knowing just how negatively the potion might affect him. What was more, though, he also couldn't allow his work to go to waste. "Okay, you got me; it's an Anti-Anxiety Potion."

"Anxiety, huh?"

Albus gave a minute nod. "Look it- it's embarrassing. Sometimes I just need them though. I started brewing it a bit when my dad was arrested and then...well...you heard that I was on the Island..."

Eckley ogled him for a moment, a coy expression playing on his face. Albus trailed off there, hoping to sell it...

"You know we've made these before in Potions," he said. "I recall them being blue."

"Well that's not always the case," Albus defended. "I mean, we used Knarl quills, but you could substitute- I mean, have you ever used Potio Nimbus before?"

Eckley gawked at it. "I don't think so, no-"

"Well if you had then you would know," Albus said, in disbelief that this was actually working. "You know how I am with Potions-look, you can take it if you want! But it's going to mess you up..."

Eckley continued to stare for a moment, but then finally corked the vial again. Albus tried not to let the relief show on his face as the tiny bottle was deposited back into his bag, and when he heard the zipper go again, he realized that Eckley had apparently not found Fairhart's letter. Albus recalled having stuffed it in the pocket of another pair of pants, which had mercifully been overlooked, it seemed. This was perhaps the luckiest that he'd felt since coming to; the details of that letter were much too private for him to want anyone else to read it, and he made a mental note to magically wipe it next chance that he had.

"Fair enough," Eckley eventually said, "though we've still got a bit of talking to do."

"Well can you let me move, at least?"

Eckley stared down at him, bobbling slightly, as though rather indecisive. "I suppose I can show you around," he said. "But are you going to behave?"

"You're really getting a kick out of this, aren't you-"

"It's an honest question," Eckley retorted swiftly. "After what happened yesterday? Carter is somewhere in this wing too. Now I'm going to ask you again; are you going to cause any trouble?"

"No," Albus insisted, though he couldn't quite hide the acidity in his voice.

Eckley gave a mild sigh, then produced a wand from the pocket of his jeans. He gave it a wave, and then at once Albus could feel movement again. He was just about to pick himself up from the bed when he realized something.

"Did you undress me!?"

"Wasn't me, but yeah, we have to do that; just protocol," Eckley told him. "I didn't look."

"Mhm," Albus replied smoothly, wrapping the blanket around him as he rose, and Eckley turned to give him some privacy.

He went into his bag and changed hastily, feeling rather awkward as he did so; nonetheless, though, he made it a point to ensure that Fairhart's letter was tucked away in his pants by the time that Eckley had turned back around.

"And where's my wand?" Albus asked him.

"You'll get that back later. Again, just protocol."

Albus gave a groan; he didn't know if he could think of a peer that would be as bothersome to have this kind of power over him, aside from perhaps Rose.

"Okay, let's give you the tour," Eckley said, and side by side, they passed through the maroon hangings.

Albus was much further in to this aisle than he expected; it seemed as though he may even have been treated at the very end, given all that he could see ahead of him were more medical compartments. Eckley confirmed this for him as they began their walk.

"We've got a bit of a ways to go," he admitted. "This is definitely the biggest room in the Den..."

"How did you put this all together?" Albus asked him, unable to completely hide the awe in his voice.

"With magic, of course."

"No I- I mean this. This group you have. How did this...?"

"Ah," Eckley said, and then he actually slowed down a bit, as though trying to figure it all out himself. "Well I suppose it began right when the U.M fell. Hogwarts closed right after, and Larson made it known that that he was going to branch off from WAR."

"I know that, but what exactly-"

"Well, I didn't want that to happen. Larson was trying to take a lot of students with him from that...club," he said, struggling a bit on the word. "And really, it didn't happen. Larson took a few with him, but his little Protectors group is made mostly of those who splintered off from WAR. Waddlesworth is done for, by the way, if you hadn't heard..."

Albus nodded, saying nothing. He allowed Eckley to continue unimpeded.

"Anyway, we-me and my brothers that is-we knew what was going on at once. With the Hand at large-"

"Darvy!" Albus spat at him. "His name is Darvy, and you know it-"

"I know what his name is!" Eckley spat. "But it just feels weird...he did used to be our professor, if you remember."

"I remember," Albus admitted sullenly; indeed, that he had once admired the tyrant for his eccentricities still stung.

"Well anyway, even with everyone focused on Darvy, we knew that there was going to be different approaches. Larson's lot, for instance, isn't getting anything done. He's not protecting anyone or being proactive in trying to find him. Mostly he's got his gang just torturing Dark Defectors."

"Dark what?"

"Blimey, you really haven't been keeping up with much, have you?" Eckley asked, a little too smugly for his liking.

"I've been busy."

"Well Dark Defectors are basically just members of the Dark Alliance that splintered off; sort of like what Larson did with WAR, now that I think on it..."

"But why would they have done that?"

"Because of bad blood between them and Darvy's new friends. With Azkaban in ruin, practically all of those prisoners joined up with him; they have nowhere else to go, anyway."

"And I suppose that makes the new Dark Alliance even worse then, huh?" Albus confirmed aloud for himself. "The old members were the people that had weaseled out of Azkaban...the new members are the ones who hadn't even been given that opportunity..."

"That's right. So the Dark Defectors really have nowhere to go. There's no Ministry to protect them, the Dark Alliance doesn't value them, and there's Renegades all over the place eager to extract information from them. That's really what Larson's been up to anyway, and it's made them a desperate group."

"I can imagine," Albus said, "but that still doesn't explain how-"

"I'm getting to it," Eckley said, just as they'd started to near the door. "Come on, I'll show you some of the facilities...always good to know where the lavatories are..."

He led them out of the Hospital Wing and into the hall, where he began opening doors at random. As Albus had expected, the layout was rather derivative of the school that they'd attended, though he paid it little mind as Eckley continued to elaborate.

"Anyway, I saw that this was going and talked with my older brothers and well...I suppose we all just decided that there were better ways of going about it. With Hogwarts closed down, we wanted to put something together that felt both safe and active. To really make a difference. We're not about that torture stuff, like Larson is. We actually want to find Darvy, and put an end to him."

"And how many do you guys have?'

"A couple hundred," Eckley revealed nonchalantly, and Albus' jaw dropped, just as he was being shown a utility a closet.

"A couple hundred!?" he repeated, unable to hide how impressed he was. "It's only been a few weeks..."

"We have a generational advantage," Eckley told him. "My oldest brother, Christopher, left Hogwarts just when I was real young. Then Clyde not too long after him. And Carl left the year before I even started. We have a pretty spread out age group, and that means that we have a lot of pull and a lot of contacts. Everyone that you see here in this building-be it someone our age or a full adult-at one point went to school with an Eckley."

"I gotta admit mate, that's pretty special."

"Don't kiss up to me, Potter; you'll get your wand back when I'm good and ready to give it to you," he smirked, an expression that Albus returned.

"Anyone here that I know?" he asked.

"A couple, though not a lot from your house," Eckley admitted. "Though to be fair, I didn't know many..."

"I get it," Albus responded with a shrug.

"But definitely some in our year. Remember Winona Soreeno?"

"From Ravenclaw?"

"That's her. She was joined up until just a few days ago."

"Why'd she leave?"

Eckley gave a large frown. "She lost her mother...bit of a confrontation with the Protectors."

Albus gave a frown of his own. "That's awful."

"No one's saying it's easy," Eckley said. "Or that it's completely safe. But everyone's joining up with something, and I really do feel like the Lions are the way to go."

"And what about your parents?" Albus asked. "How do they feel about their sons putting all of this together?"

"My mum's really proud, even though she worries. And my dad- well my dad's an older guy, getting on in years. He erm- he doesn't really understand much, to be honest."

"Oh," was all that Albus could muster. "I- I didn't know," he said, which was the truth; he really never had bothered to find much out about the Eckley family.

But Eckley gave a shrug. "It's fine," he said. "I know that he'd be real proud. And sometimes I feel like he is. Anyway, up for something to eat?"

They'd arrived at the dining hall that Albus had burst into the previous day. It was again bustling, though thankfully he was given no attention this time. Either they'd all been briefed as to what was going on, or had decided that things were fine with Charles Eckley on the scene. The latter made him roll his eyes.

Nevertheless, they took seats across from one another at the edge of one of the more vacant tables, Eckley disappearing for a moment to bring back platters of food.

"Not quite as good as at Hogwarts," he admitted, serving them both a plate of shepard's pie. "But we do our best to manage. Can't magick food, but we all help out."

Albus drooled as the odors of the plate were processed. Forgoing all semblances of good manners, he began digging in at once.

"Been a bit starved, have we?" Eckley said, taking his own time with his plate.

"I've managed," Albus managed to choke out, thinking back to the lukewarm kippers. He'd appreciated them, certainly, but not quite to the magnitude that he appreciated this meal here.

"So I've given you what you wanted to know," Eckley said, between his own, smaller bites. "Mind telling me a story of your own? Last I'd heard, you'd ran away from home."

"Apparated," Albus corrected him.

"Same core concept," Eckley said with a shrug. "But there's more to that; I'd also heard that you've got a search party out for you. Again."

At this, Albus actually paced himself, biding time for the answer that he wanted to give. "Me and my dad both want the same thing," he admitted. "We just- we want it differently, that's all. And he doesn't like me being off on my own."

He chose not to go further on this; the truth was, he knew that Eckley wasn't going to understand any better than his father, or anyone else for that matter. There was simply no escaping this was one of those few times where he really did know better. No one else had seen the army that Darvy had created on that island, there was no one who had felt the things that he'd felt. The mere fact that Eckley was content with sitting here and explaining the origins of his faction was sufficient in delineating just how little the rest of the world knew; aside from himself, no one else had any expedience or urgency on the matter. If the Lions-or the Protectors, for that matter-had an understanding of just how easily Darvy could rebuild his army, they wouldn't be trifling away in their personal conflict. And if his father knew just what Darvy was capable of, then he wouldn't be wasting time looking for his son.

But that's because they don't feel that power, he knew. Only he and Darvy had had a taste of it-and perhaps Ares too, though he was long gone. And moreover, this power was very much the reason why Albus was content with simply allying himself with any of these groups. Whatever Fairhart's letter dictated, he simply could not risk losing control in front of his loved ones the same way that he had on the island. If he got too close to Darvy's army-or even just the Dragonfang Wand-how would he be able to guarantee that someone like his father wouldn't get hurt? He couldn't even remember what had happened before...

"I'm not going to lie, Albus," Eckley started up, jogging him from his thoughts, "you're putting me in a really touchy position."

Albus gave him a wry smile. "You're thinking of handing me over to my dad, aren't you?"

"Well not necessarily your dad, but giving you up, yeah. Other people want you found too, you know."

Albus bit at his lip. "So you've uh...you've been in contact with Morrison and Scor-"

"Don't get stupid with me," Eckley shot out. "I don't know anything about what your shadows are up to. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

Albus said nothing at first, though of course, he had in fact caught the implication. He'd just offhandedly mentioned her earlier, hadn't he?

"So how has she been, then?" he managed to muster.

Eckley leaned back, apparently now dissatisfied with his meal. His expression went to a much more complicated one, and Albus, unwilling to read it, tried to instead ogle the people a few seats down, who were having some sort of soup. He didn't recognize either of them.

"She's been about as you'd expect, given that her boyfriend got up and left again, after just getting back-"

"I didn't leave the first time, I got taken-"

"No!" Eckley responded hotly, and then a few people did actually spare them a glance. He lowered his voice accordingly. "No, no, don't give me that-you can tell others that, but not me. I know. I remember. I'm waiting for someone, you'd said. You've been involved in this much longer than that-"

"It's different," Albus protested. "Just- look. Just tell me how she is? What's been going on?"

"Me and Mirra don't talk much," Eckley told him, his tone still sour. "But she's frustrated. Very frustrated. You keep this up, and-"

"I know," Albus admitted. "But believe me it- it has to be this way."

But Eckley then leaned forward across the table. "And which way do think that is? Her going out on her own and risking her neck for yours?"

"What are you talking about?" Albus demanded. "What's happened? She hasn't went looking for me, has she-"

"Oh no, worse than that," Eckley said. "She's given up on finding you, because she reckons you'd just leave again anyway. No, she thinks that to get you safe, this war needs to end, and she's not afraid to take part in it. When she found out about the Lions, she asked to join."

"No!" Albus barked, now attracting even more attention, and he actually looked around frantically, as though expecting to see her. "It's too dangerous-"

But Eckley had already held up a hand. "I'm way ahead of you. Denied it, flat out, a few times. Rose tried talking her out of it, but she insisted; didn't give up until I'd straight told her that it was never going to happen."

Albus heaved a tremendous sigh of relief, the irony not lost on him. Here he was doing this, all on his own, to keep others-others like Mirra in particular-out of it. His danger in exchange for her safety. And yet she was trying to do the same thing...

"You can't let her," Albus said, shaking his head. "She's a capable witch, don't get me wrong, but- you can't- no matter what-"

"I told you already, it's not going to happen," Eckley assured him. "But I can't control her. I can stop her from joining with my lot, but I can't stop her from doing anything on her own."

"She wouldn't do that," Albus insisted, more to himself than to Eckley. "She's bold, but she's smart."

"Not when it comes to you," Eckley argued. "You mean something to her-you mean a lot. We've talked, she's told me. She feels connected with you. She even feels safe with you...somehow," he added bitterly.

Albus mulled over this momentarily, his appetite somehow lost. Of course Mirra felt that way...he'd been her first friend at Hogwarts, he'd saved her in that first year, and how many times had she been there for him, with all of the perils of his life?

Feeling queasy, he met Eckley's gaze and started saying things that he'd never even considered before. "You need to look after her," he said. "Especially- I mean, if something happens to me-"

"Mirra can look after herself," Eckley interjected, but Albus was quick to do the same.

"No, I don't mean like that. It's just...she doesn't have a lot. She lives with her grandparents. She had it rough growing up. I can't bear the thought of her having nobody to put that on," he admitted. "If something happens to me, if she doesn't have me to go to, to talk to, about anything, to be with even-"

"I get it," Eckley said, and suddenly, his face was red. "But we don't need to talk about that, because like I've said, you might be seeing her real soon anyway."

"So you've made up your mind on handing me over then?" Albus asked, pleased that his moment of weakness was done with.

"Just about," Eckley told him. "Gotta see it from my point of view-"

"Maybe you should take a look at mine," Albus interrupted. "We can help each other."

"And how's that?" Eckley asked, though he didn't seem very curious at all.

Albus hesitated, but then went for it. "Because we both want the same thing, don't we? Right now anyway-Fango Wilde."

Eckley raised his blonde eyebrows. "Keep going."

"Well why do you want Wilde?" Albus asked, trying to steer it into something that he could manipulate. With any luck, this excursion into the "Lion's Den" could prove quite advantageous to him.

"Same reason you do," Eckley said, holding up his hands. "Same reason you're here in Mottley. He's a source of information. Guy was at Azkaban with Darvy, may know something about where he headed after."

"But there are tons of people you could go to for that-"

"Not like Wilde there isn't," Eckley said, giving a slight grin. "Wilde's been everywhere. We have some resources at our disposal, we know just where he's been. He was a leak in the Ministry for Ares years ago, one of his first supporters even. Then he jumped ship to Darvy. We even have reason to believe that he was negotiating with Warren Waddlesworth for bit. Wilde may very well know more about what's going on than anyone else in this war right now."

'Well stated," Albus said, though he was pleased to know that the Foulest Book had been omitted. For these Renegade groups, Wilde was simply a link to Darvy, and Albus too could see the benefits of this. But he had an additional pit stop that others didn't. If Fairhart's letter was even remotely accurate, then the Book was the key to understanding how to dispose of the Wand and the Veil-the true sources of Darvy's power.

"And I suppose you're after him for the same reasons, then?" Eckley asked.

"Basically."

"Then why not join up with your dad? If he didn't have you to worry about, he could be doing the same thing we are."

He's more clever than I remember, Albus realized. "It is a little different," he admitted. "I have a few...other things I need to discuss with Wilde."

"And what would those things be?"

"They're about what happened on that island," Albus said darkly, hoping that this truth, however ambiguous, would be sufficient in curtailing this curiosity.

"Okay," Eckley said, making a gentle gesture with his hand. "But if you wanting him is so important to just you on your own, why should I care? If you're not willing to share-"

"You need an extra body," Albus said. "I'm offering myself up to help you; you turn me down now, and you're turning down someone who could potentially save a life out there, when you're waging your little war with Larson's nutcases. Or would you rather hand me over and have that weighing on you?"

"True, but of course, you could end up dead too, and then I've got that weighing on me-"

"I'm sure you'd manage," Albus insisted sarcastically, but Eckley didn't seem to catch on to it.

"I think you're an idiot," he said, "but I definitely don't want to see you dead."

This effectively shut Albus up, and when he started again, he was careful to make his voice more moderate. "Look, I just want to help. That's what this is all about, right? Let me help you get Wilde. If I can just do that-if I can know that I helped make a difference, you won't need to hand me over," he lied. "I'll go back on my own."

Eckley sat still for a moment, and then together, they both returned to their meals. For a few moments they sat in silence, until eventually the Gryffindor started up again, "You know, it's not as simple as you might think. Getting Wilde."

"I know it isn't," Albus said. "The Protectors have him."

"And how do you know that?"

"Honestly? A stranger told me."

Eckley rolled his eyes, but continued nonetheless. "Well that's right, they do. Sadly, whatever resources we have, Larson somehow has more. They've been a step ahead of us from the beginning."

"How did they find him?"

"How else? Torturing Dark Defectors. They gave up his name real quick, given his seniority in their group, and they must have shown up here knowing he'd head to somewhere where he had a home. I don't know if they caught him in the act of fleeing or what, but all the same, they got a hold of him only a few days after he got here."

"Well he couldn't have left with both of you putting the place on lockdown-"

"Hey," Eckley cut him off, pointing, "we're trying to keep these people safe. I already told you, we're not like Larson's group, and we're not like WAR. There are muggles here, and wizards and witches who really aren't sure what's going on, and giving them curfews and the like keeps them safe."

"I'm not arguing," Albus said innocently. "But still, if the Protectors already have a hold of him, why not just try and get information from them?"

"Because we don't think he's given them anything," Eckley told him. "If Wilde's track record is legitimate, then he's the biggest weasel there is. He's not going to give up information to people torturing him, because he'll know that they're the type to kill him once he's expendable anyway. No, he's going to want someone he can bargain with. That's more our area of expertise."

"Still though, there's a time limit-"

"Of course there is, but we're working on it. My brother Carl went out today, we think we have a lead on where the Protectors are held up. When he and his group come back, we're going to put something together. Should be able to go and retrieve Wilde in three days or so."

"Three days!?" Albus moaned. "That's way too long!"

He really meant it. This was just further evidence of how little they understood of what Darvy was capable of...

Eckley scoffed. "That's the way it works. Carl won't get back until tomorrow at the earliest, and then we have a day of planning, and then a day of organization. If I'm going to let you in on this," he continued, "then you have to be on board with how we work."

Albus gave a frown, but then a reluctant nod. "I understand," he said. "So you're not going to turn me over, then?"

They stared at one another again, the background noise of the dining area seemingly evaporating from the intensity. Albus needed this...

"Finish up," Eckley said, nudging his plate. "I'll show you around."

Albus did so with glee, as though the quicker he ate, the quicker the opportunity to seize Wilde would come. He was pleased that he had managed to work something out, even if it was with Eckley; he was now somehow even closer to Wilde, though of course, he could do without the supervision...

Once they'd finished eating, Eckley made it a point to direct him around the remaining interior of the building, which despite its visual similarities, simply had less going on it than when inside Hogwarts. It was still fairly comfortable though, and in truth, Albus enjoyed the tour, as it provided him with the time needed to evaluate his situation.

It was an unlikely partnership, he reflected, as Eckley had been showing him the designated area where they could tend to their laundry, but it could prove to be very beneficial-for him at least. He derived some sort of pride in knowing that yet again his morning had started with him knowing nothing, and yet ended up with steps, albeit small ones, in the right direction. The shock that it had been Charles Eckley whom he had stumbled across and needed to depend on had worn off now, replaced instead with thoughts of how he was going to manage his next endeavors.

He of course had no intention of leaving after Wilde-leaving with Wilde, perhaps-but certainly not abandoning his quest there. Though of course, it all depended on where the Foulest Book was as well...

With the day drawing to a close, however, Albus found his thoughts returning to the more sensitive discussions that had been had over lunch. He knew that his disappearance was weighing on his loved ones-and whatever Eckley might think of him, it truly hurt to know what kind of turmoil they were going through. His father and a few others were actively searching for him, but what of his mother? Albus knew if not for James, and especially Lily, she would be among them, but how long had it been since he'd seen her? Two weeks, perhaps, since the day that he'd left home? And before that stretch of being home, there had been weeks with Fairhart too...

As Eckley led him to where he'd be sleeping, he wondered just what his friends were up to. Morrison and Sorpius had assured him that they'd be following after him, though thankfully, they hadn't been present with his father at the cabin, and thus it was reasonable to suppose that they'd been assuaged. And Mirra...surely Eckley had been exaggerating? Whatever she felt for him, she must know that it was pointless to do anything on her own...

You don't, he argued with himself, and for a moment he grew frightened, before realizing that this was the usual voice of contemplation in his head, rather than the more menacing one of his dreams. Though in truth, it was becoming rather difficult to tell them apart lately. And indeed, he now found himself reflecting on the puzzling nightmare that he'd woken from this morning...

"Here we are," Eckley said, pushing a door open. It was a room nearly identical to what Albus had seen yesterday, with the beds bunked one atop another and only a writing desk to indicate it was for anything other than sleeping.

"Not too shabby," Albus said, simply pleased that he wasn't going to be back in that hospital cot.

"I don't think so either," Eckley agreed. "Anyway-I call top bunk."

Albus turned to him. "What?"

"Didn't think I'd leave you out of my sight, did you?"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm the one that has to explain to my brothers why the crazy kid that knocked out two of our members the other day is going to be eating with us for a while. Least I can do is make sure you don't get up to any trouble."

"You don't trust me?"

Eckley laughed. "No, I don't. Now to be fair I'm not going to chaperone you tonight because I have to go check up on things first, but after tonight, you'll be doing that with me."

"I'll go do that right now, actually, if it means I won't have to-"

"Do I need to tuck you in?" Eckley cut him off. "Because I will, if I have to."

Albus sneered. "Only thing you have to do is give me my own room-"

"Not going to happen," Eckley said, shaking his head. "If you don't like the sleeping arrangements, maybe I can send word along and have them changed? Which would be easier to get into contact with your dad? By mail, or just Apparating somewhere, or-"

"Okay, fine," Albus conceded with a grimace. "Fine, I get it."

"Only for three days or so," Eckley reiterated. "Now get some sleep," he added icily, and he actually started to leave.

Albus had already climbed up to the top bunk, annoyed, when the door was closed. Then, a sudden thought of such great importance came to him that he actually hollered it through the door.

"Hey, when am I getting my wand back?"

"Didn't you hear me?" came a muffled voice from outside of the room, and one moving away, at that. "Three days."