Albus Potter and the Cunning Plan

Chapter seven

Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius (will become, but later when they're older), other minor ones (past, present, and future); this means there is going to be both slash and het in my story, but mostly in the background.

Rating: PG-13 (will go up in some later chapters)

Warnings: slight language, some minor canon is ignored; minor angst and some violence, about what you might find in the average HP book.

Minor mention of drug use.

Notes: I don't have as easy access to the internet as I used to. Just letting you all know that in case you're wondering if I am still alive. :)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. But the original characters in here are mine. Don't use them without my permission.

Also, Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty are the property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. No infringement is intended. You can thank a certain friend of mine for buying me both volume one and two of the complete Sherlock Holmes. I am only going by the characters in the books because I hadn't seen very many episodes of BBC's Sherlock (I have enjoyed them, though).

.-.

What Does It Mean To Be A Slytherin?

.-.

Albus was a little nervous for his friend, but somewhat glad that it wasn't him playing this year. A part of him did wish he were, but thanks to the anxious looks on most of their faces—Gryffindor as well as Slytherin players—he was actually relieved. His time would come, though, if he joined next year.

Even though both teams were nervous, the Gryffindor team was showing it more than the Slytherin team. Hardly anyone had eaten at the Gryffindor table, and no one spoke. At the Slytherin table, however, some had eaten, but only small bites. There had even been some whispering and small talk, and a bit more smiles were shared. The latter was no doubt thanks to the racing brooms they now owned.

"Nervous at all?" he asked Scorpius as he finished his breakfast.

"I'm fine," Scorpius said, but Al saw his hand shaking slightly as he lifted his fork to his mouth, and chewed his bit of egg slowly and meticulously. Albus recognized it as more being worried that he'd let his team down than having to play against Gryffindor.

"Our team will win," Spica Baddock, the Slytherin captain, said. "And we'll get that trophy back that the Gryffindors took from us last year."

Albus remembered his brother helping the Gryffindor team win the Quidditch Cup last year. He'd bragged about it so much that it drove Al completely round the bend. Even if Gryffindor did win the first match, there would still be a chance that Slytherin would win the Cup.

"With our new brooms there can be no doubt that we'll win," Pucey, their Keeper, said.

"Unless James Potter does a lucky catch," Pritchard said.

The rest of the team grumbled in agreement. Albus had to admit that his brother was rather good when it came to flying stunts and being in the right place at the right time. There had even been an occasion when James had caught the Snitch while flying upside down as he'd dodged a Bludger. Some say it had been dumb luck, but Al knew that his brother was just that talented (well, when it came to the stunts he'd do on purpose).

Finally, as eleven o'clock approached, it was time to make their way to the Quidditch stadium. The weather seemed to be fair, although a few dark clouds were hanging in the east part of the sky, promising rain later. Albus had said a few encouraging words to Scorpius before parting. Scorpius entered the locker room to change with the rest of his team while Albus went up to the top row of the raised stands, holding a pair of binoculars.

Rose, Orion, Corvus, Delia, Emmett, Nott and a few others were seated around Albus to watch the game. Some people in the stands were sporting signs or banners proclaiming their choice of team they wanted to win. The side that Albus and his friends chose to sit at was mainly for the Slytherin supporters. The other side of the stands were bathed mostly in red and gold, and had signs declaring their love for either James, Arwin Wood (the Keeper), or Kevin Mars. Kevin was a favorite of the Chasers.

"Normally I'd be cheering for Gryffindor," said Emmett. "But seeing how Malfoy is friends with you and Rose I'll make an exception."

"It doesn't matter to me who you root for," Al said. "I won't think ill of you."

"You're actually quite nice," Emmett stated. "For a Slytherin."

"Um, thanks," Al said. "I guess."

"It's the Potter in him," Orion said. "It's kind of nauseating."

"Shut up," Al said, but mostly half-heartedly. Orion grinned to show that he hadn't been real serious in his barb.

The coach blew his whistle, and then both teams rose quickly into the air. The Slytherin team seemed to be no match for the Gryffindors. Their brooms outstripped the Gryffindor's brooms by a mile. It took hardly any time at all before Slytherin scored their first goal. Not only could Albus follow most of the plays with his binoculars, but there was someone commentating on what was going on. He didn't know who it was until Professor Hookum, Head of Hufflepuff House and Transfiguration teacher, said the person's name.

"Slytherin scores the first point of the match, which was no doubt thanks to the unfair advantage they have over the Gryffindor team…"

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Coote, and just do your job," Professor Hookum said.

"Right," said Gage Coote, who was obviously new to the job since he was in Al's year. The last person to commentate for the Quidditch matches must have left Hogwarts or something. "Sorry, Professor," Coote continued. "But I only speak the truth—"

"Just announce the plays and who scores, and don't worry about anything else."

"Yes, Professor. Anyway, it looks like Slytherin had scored again while I was being suppressed—"

"Coote!"

"Sorry, Professor," Coote said quickly, and then went right back into doing the commentary. "So now it's twenty-nil. Pritchard has the Quaffle again, and he's speeding toward the goal posts. Wood, one of the greatest Keepers to come out of the woodwork—heh heh—gets ready to block, and—YES! Wood saves, and now Gryffindor is in possession. Ulla Hunt, a great Chaser with an even better scoring record, is now pelting down the pitch, dodging those fast flying Slytherins—wow, she's good. Now she's nearly there… Cepheus Pucey, the Slytherin Keeper, moves forward to block… but then Hunt does a brilliant aerial move and gets around Pucey and… yes, she scores!"

The Gryffindor side of the stands went wild. Most of the Slytherins and their supporters hissed and booed. Albus stayed silent as he tried to keep up with the plays with his binoculars. He, Rose, and Emmett were probably the only ones that didn't react in either way to the scoring.

"Buggering hell, that was a bit of rotten luck," Nott said.

"Gryffindor has good players," Rose said. "Ulla Hunt is an ace on a broom, no matter what make it is, it seems."

"Bah, it was just blind luck," said Orion.

"I doubt it," Al said softly as he continued to stare through his binoculars.

Funnily enough, those that heard him didn't comment. He only wondered why for a second because his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden shout of Coote's commentary on how Gryffindor got fouled. Apparently Lepus Flint had done something to Hunt in retaliation. Gryffindor was given a plenty shot, but didn't score a goal thanks to Pucey's quicker broom.

"Slytherin in possession now," Coote said. "They're really racing past all the Gryffindor Chasers up there, on the brooms that was bought for them, the little cheats—"

"That's enough, Coote!" Hookum warned.

"Sorry, Professor. Anyway, Slytherin scores again, yippee," Coote deadpanned. "Now it's fifty to ten. Potter, who is soaring high above everyone else, had just dodged a Bludger that was aimed at him. Scorpius Malfoy is hot on his heels, most likely hoping to steal the Snitch right out from under Potter's nose, the little stuckup—"

"Last warning, Coote," Hookum said.

Coote cleared his throat and continued commentating. "Anyway, one of the Proudfoots hits another Bludger toward Edward Trapper, another excellent Chaser for Gryffindor, and Trapper dodges it but ends up dropping the Quaffle. Now Slytherin is in possession again…"

It was a half hour into the game when something finally happened, other than a lot of scoring on the Slytherin side. James suddenly dived toward one end of the Slytherin goal posts, having no doubt spotted the Snitch. Scorpius zoomed right after him, and soon they were neck and neck as they sped toward the little golden ball.

"And Potter spotted the Snitch!" Coote yelled. "Malfoy is close beside him, possibly hoping to get it before Potter does. It's very close… Malfoy's broom seems a bit faster, but Potter's taller and more experienced…"

Albus doubted his brother was more experienced on a broom than Scorpius. His friend had told him that his father had trained him on how to ride, so he was sure that Scorpius's talent on a broom wasn't really in question. But he had to admit that his brother was really quite good.

A Bludger went whizzing in front of both Seekers. Albus gasped in shock and worry as Scorpius narrowly avoided getting hit. He'd leaned his head back and spun his broom around so that he wasn't smacked in the face, but James had dived underneath the Bludger and at the same time his hand closed around the Snitch.

"170 to 160," Coote roared. "Gryffindor wins!"

"No!" Nott yelled.

"Oh, great," Al sighed. "Now he'll be completely unbearable."

"It was a close match," Rose said. "But who hit that Bludger toward them? Did you see?"

"No, I didn't. I was paying more attention to Scorpius and my brother."

Later on Al, Rose, Orion, Delia, Nott, and Emmett went to meet Scorpius as he exited the locker room.

"Hey, tough break," Al said. "It was a close one."

"Yeah," Scorpius said, shoulders sagging. "Would have won if Hunt hadn't scored those two goals. Still, we're not out of the running for the Quidditch Cup."

"Nor the House Cup," said Nott. "I think we're ahead of Gryffindor in house points by fifty. Now thanks to the points we earned during this match, we're way ahead."

Not by too much since Gryffindor got points too, Albus thought, but opted not to comment and let Nott continue sounding moronic.

"So if we don't win the Quidditch Cup this year we may still win the House Cup," Al said, patting Scorpius on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. I'm sure that whoever you play against next time won't be as difficult."

"Unless it's Ravenclaw," said Spica as she emerged from the locker room. The rest of the Slytherin team lumbered past them, some looking glum and some angry. "They can be a pain at times, thanks to their so-called strategies."

"We'll win," Scorpius said, sounding less aggravated and more like his cocksure self.

"We will if we train more," Spica said. "So tomorrow afternoon will be our next practice session, don't forget."

.-.

During most of the rest of the week, Scorpius was busy with Quidditch practice and homework. He and Albus would meet Rose in the library to study together. Nott sometimes joined them, but he didn't like to always be there when the Ravenclaws were. He said he felt like he was doing a misconduct by not hanging around only Slytherins. Albus, Scorpius, and Orion rolled their eyes and let Nott be his usual bigoted self as they continued to study with Rose, Delia, Emmett, and Corvus. Albus wondered if maybe the others didn't mind so much because of Rose and Corvus being related to him and Orion. Delia was always a hoot to be around, as was Emmett. Although it seemed like Emmett and Rose didn't like Nott very much.

"What's his problem?" Emmett asked one evening as they were studying in the library. Nott had only stayed for a few minutes, but when Rose, Emmett, Delia, and Corvus sat at the table with them he stood and left.

"He's just sulking," Scorpius said. "I keep telling him that it's no big deal if we hang out with Ravenclaws. He won't listen, though. And I told him," Scorpius added, "I said that at least we're not hanging around Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs. But he still sulks."

"It's his loss," Al said. "If he wants to fail his classes then that's his problem not ours."

"I doubt he'd fail," Orion said. "He seems to be doing okay, from what I've seen. I think he just wants our study sessions to have nothing but Slytherins. I don't know if he even understands the benefits of being friends with Ravenclaws."

"Oh, so that's why you hang out with us," Emmett said. "I see. It's all coming out now."

"Oh shut it, Annesley, you know what I meant."

"I'm hanging out with Ravenclaws because my favorite cousin is one," Al said, grinning at Rose. "Oh, and because Moon is a friend of Rose's and Corvus is Orion's twin."

"What about me?" Emmett said.

"You're my friend," said Corvus.

"And mine," said Rose, grinning.

"And you're eye candy," said Moon.

Everyone's heads swiveled around to stare at Delia. She tucked her quill behind her ear and lifted her parchment up to blow on it to help the ink dry. She didn't seem to realize that she had everyone's eyes on her.

"Excuse me?" Emmett squeaked.

Moon looked up. "Oh, didn't you know? I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just thought that you understood that when someone is good-looking that it is a pleasant morale boost for those around them, and increases the stimuli in the brain and circulation of the heart. In other words, your well-being and performance gets a significant increase, therefore schoolwork becomes easier and less stressful."

Everyone continued to stare dumbfounded at her.

"Uh, Delia? Is there something you'd like to tell us?" Rose asked.

"No, why?" Delia said.

"Oh, no reason." Rose sighed.

They studied for almost an hour, and were nearly done with everything, when James and his friends walked in. They were carrying their own bags and books, looking intent on studying and getting some homework done. When they spotted Al with his friends, James grinned and sauntered over. His friends reluctantly followed, even though they were protesting in whispers.

"James, come on, let's not…" Albus heard Jupitus say as they approached. Jupitus then shut up when they got to Al's table.

"Asp," James greeted his brother with. "I mean"—he laughed—"Albus. Sorry. I see you're surrounding yourself with more than just snakes. That's good."

Albus narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with being friends with Ravenclaws? I thought you'd be pleased."

"Oh, I am. What else did you think I meant when I said that it's good?"

"What do you want?" Albus said, not wanting to continue their brotherly banter in front of everyone.

"Oh, nothing. Can't a person say hi to his little brother?"

"I know what he's doing," said Orion. "He's come to brag about winning the Quidditch match."

"No, honestly, I'm not here to brag," James said, making a 'scout's honor' gesture. "Just came to say hi and to let you know, Al, that I still hadn't told anyone about your Sorting, no matter how much they pester me."

"Oh, well, good," said Al. "Is that all?"

"Er, well, also wondering if you're doing all right. You know—" he bent closer to Al and whispered, "with being in Slytherin and all. And you being a Potter. They're not, er, mistreating you, are they?"

"No," said Al. "Why would they?"

"Uh, because they're Slytherins?" The 'well, duh' was only implied, but Al heard it plain as day.

Albus snorted. "Uh, news flash, big bro, so am I."

"Yes, but… you're a Potter, and come from a Gryffindor family."

"What does it matter where I came from? Don't worry about me. Really, I'm fine."

"You sure?" James said, still whispering. "You could always ask Professor McGonagall to see if you could get re-sorted."

"No, thanks," Al said, feeling a bit offended. "Seriously, I'm still the same Albus that you've grown up with. I haven't suddenly turned evil after being Sorted into Slytherin."

"Well, no, of course you're not evil," James laughed, no longer quiet or stooping. "Who said you were? Anyway, as I've said before, I've had my suspicions about you from an early age. I mean, about behaving like a Slytherin."

"Which is why you kept teasing me about it," Al pointed out.

"Uh, well… maybe."

"Is this gonna take long?" Kevin Mars asked. "We really should get to studying."

"Oh yeah. Right. Okay." James looked at his brother and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something else, but then closed it and only said, "Well, see you, little bro."

Rose rolled her eyes at James as he and his friends walked by to find their own table. "Yeah, don't say hi to me," she grumbled sarcastically after he left. "I'm not someone important or anything, just your cousin."

"Ignore his idiocy, Rose," Al said. "You know he has a hard time walking and chewing gum at the same time."

"I have to admit," she said, "he is one flavor short of a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean box."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to effect his Quidditch skills," Orion said. "If only someone would Confund him during the next Quidditch match."

"Zabini," Scorpius gasped mockingly, "that's cheating." But he was on the verge of laughing.

"Well, it's not like anyone hadn't done it before," Orion said.

"But if you were to get caught," said Al.

"Who said I was actually going to do it myself? I was only suggesting that someone else should."

"Coward," Scorpius snorted.

"I may be a coward… sometimes… but I'm not stupid."

"That's debatable," Emmett said.

Before some kind of fight could get started, Albus chimed in with his opinion on the matter: which was that no one should do any Confunding to anyone during their next Quidditch match.

"What if someone finds out or sees you?" Albus pointed out. "Then we'd be in even bigger trouble, and you know how the rest of the school sees Slytherin; think of how badly that would go over. We'd lose a lot of points, which we've rightly earned, and then we wouldn't be in the running for either Cup. Having really good racing brooms is one thing, but cursing someone during the game is another. We—I mean the Quidditch team—just needs to get a little more organized with their plays, and practice more."

"What do you expect, Potter?" Orion said. "We're Slytherins. We'd do anything to be on top."

"But if we don't do things in a more cunning way, we'll have the exact opposite happen to us. Isn't being cunning and resourceful our traits as well? We've got enough brains to pull things off, so we really shouldn't resort to something that would hurt our chances. If we play our cards right, we could get both House and Quidditch Cup."

Orion and Scorpius were staring at Al as if he'd just said something completely un-Slytherin-like, which wasn't fair because Al thought he sounded very Slytherin-esque.

"Wow," said Corvus. "I think Potter's right. Not that I'm going to take sides or anything." He glanced at his twin.

"I have to admit, you might be right, Al," Scorpius said. "We need to go about it more subtly. We could even get disqualified if we tried cursing someone during a game."

"So what do you suggest, Potter?" Orion asked. "Jinxing their brooms? Getting a house-elf to curse a Bludger?"

"Well, I'm not really part of the team, nor the captain, am I?" Albus said. "So I really can't dictate what the team should do."

"I'll talk with the captain then," Scorpius said. "Then we'll figure something out together. Now, let's get back to our studying. There's no way I'm going to give any of the professors a reason to fail me."

"You won't fail, Scorp," Al said with a smile. "You're brilliant."

"And you're sucking up for some reason," Scorpius shot back. He narrowed his eyes in a curious fashion. "What's on that sneaky mind of yours?"

"Nothing," Al said in false innocence. "Nothing at all."

"You don't fool me, Potter. Come on, tell me."

"It's nothing, honest." Al then glanced back over at the Restricted Section. He had been continuing to ponder on how to get inside. He'd thought about asking Professor Longbottom to sign a permission form, but then he'd need to know just which book he needed to start with, and he didn't.

But Scorpius understood. Orion and the Ravenclaws didn't notice the secret look Al did, so when Scorpius and Al stopped talking all of a sudden (not arguing, definitely not), they looked up just when Scorpius and Al glanced at each other after looking toward the door to the Restricted Section. Without words, they seemed to know what the other was thinking. The others had no clue.

"Are they having a staring contest?" Moon asked. "Is it something Slytherins do when they're competing with each other about something? Should we all have a staring contest, then?" she then proceeded to try staring down Emmett who grinned back at her.

Albus broke eye contact with his friend and laughed. Scorpius turned away with red cheeks, the corner of his lip nearly lifting.

.-.

When evening rolled around, and everyone was snug in their beds, Albus and Scorpius snuck out of the dormitory and silently made their way out of the common room.

"We could get into some serious trouble if we're caught," Scorpius whispered close to Al's ear. "We could lose a lot of house points too. Isn't that the reason why you didn't want someone to hex the rival Quidditch team? Or am I missing the bigger picture here?"

"Something like that," Albus whispered back. "Don't worry; I have the perfect excuse for if we're caught."

"And what excuse is that?" Scorpius asked.

"For your safety, I shouldn't tell you right now. Just be patient, and stick real close. I think I know of a short-cut around here somewhere."

"Wouldn't it be better for all involved if you told me? We'd need to get our story straight, after all."

"Don't worry. I've got everything planned."

They ducked behind a large Hogwarts banner to avoid a prefect that was patrolling the corridors. Unfortunately, it wasn't a Slytherin prefect but a Gryffindor. They stayed very still and quiet, barely breathing, as the prefect walked by.

"Everything planned, huh?" Scorpius whispered with a hiss. "So where's this great short-cut you talked about?"

"Wait," Al said, voice barely above a whisper. He listened cautiously for any other footsteps. When none was heard, Al grabbed Scorpius's hand and slowly they emerged from behind the curtain. "Okay, follow me—"

"Do I have a choice?" Scorpius said, looking down at their joined hands.

"It's this way," Al continued as if he hadn't heard him. "I remember overhearing some older Slytherins in the common room talking about it… ah, here it is."

According to what Al had heard, there was a secret passageway behind a large portrait on one side of the hall, before reaching Professor d'Eath's office. The portrait wasn't of anyone Al knew; it was possible that it was some famous Slytherin from centuries ago, because he looked to be wearing clothing from the late 1890's. When Al and Scorpius approached the portrait, the man looked down at them with a raised eyebrow and a shrewd gaze.

"Something you boys need?" the man in the painting asked. His tone was deep and brusque.

"We'd like to use the short-cut please," Al said softly.

"Indeed?" the portrait said. "Why, may I inquire, do you need it this late in the night?"

"Well, uh, we need to check something in the library," Al said. "I didn't dare try with the librarian there during the day."

"Up to no good, eh?" the man said. His features were just as striking as his glare. He seemed like he could be tall in person, and looked rather thin. His forehead was large, and his eyes were somewhat sunken into his skull. He was pale and ascetic-looking, like some strict professor. His shoulders were round and his face protruded in a curious, snake-like fashion. It struck Al that this wasn't someone whom he should tangle with if he wanted to achieve his main objective.

"Well, sir," he said, for it felt like he had to address him as such, because the last thing he'd wanted to do was insult him. "It's for… educational purposes."

"Homework, then?" the man said. He was scrutinizing Al as if he were an amusing little pawn.

"In a sense."

"If you are caught, it might grief me to be forced to tell an authority figure that I had spoken to you, and had allowed you entrance. I warn you now, the chance you are undertaking could very well cost Slytherin in points and you could receive a few detentions. Lacking in intelligence and ingenuity could hinder all your chances, and those are the sort of fools we don't need in Slytherin House, I assure you."

Scorpius gave a little gasp in Al's ear, as if he just realized something. Albus, however, shushed him with the wave of his hand.

"You'll still let us through, though?" Al asked.

"I may, if it is worth my while."

Albus and Scorpius stood still, waiting for the man in the portrait to continue, but he only raised an eyebrow.

"Um, it is?" Al slowly reassured.

"I will remember you said that," said the portrait. "Mark my words, young one; you shall repay me in kind one day. For now all I ask is that you tell the man in the portrait opposite me, on the other side of this passageway, that it is fruitless in his objective right now, and that he should concede before things get out of hand, for both our sakes."

Scorpius' jaw dropped, but Albus only stared dumbfounded at the portrait before nodding. "All right, I'll tell him. Uh, he is the portrait that we have to go through at the end of the short-cut?"

"That is what I just said, idiot child," the man growled. "Now do as I say or I'll raise the alarm and send a prefect running!"

"Yes, sir," Al said at once. Then the portrait clicked open and away from the wall. Al and Scorpius grabbed hold of the edge and pulled it open wider so they could slip through. Scorpius then grabbed a part of the back of the portrait to swing it shut behind them.

The corridor they entered was lit by only a few sconces. A few feet in front of them there were a set of stairs. Slowly and carefully they ascended, keeping one hand on the wall one either side of them to help them along their way.

"Do you realize who that was?" Scorpius said in awe. "I can hardly believe I haven't noticed before now."

"No, I don't know," Al said. "But whoever he is, he sends shivers up my spine and a feeling of dread in my stomach."

"I can't believe you don't really know who that was," Scorpius said. "Your parents never spoke of him—no, wait, of course they wouldn't; you come from a Gryffindor family."

"Is the man in the portrait on a Chocolate Frog card or in a book of well-known wizards?"

"You might say that," Scorpius said in a low tone. "I doubt he'd be on a Chocolate Frog card, though, the way he is. Although, you said that you only had one left to collect, so surely you would have recognized him when you saw him if he was on a card."

"Then who is he? Come on, Scorp, don't leave me hanging here."

Scorpius turned his head and smiled at Al as Al stared back. He waited a beat before answering:

"That, mate, was the Professor James Moriarty!"

"Who?"

Scorpius's eyes widened in shock. "You never heard of him? Seriously? He's only the brightest and most cunning Slytherin that had ever lived! He was a true genius in his day; a philosopher and abstract thinker, according to World's Greatest Witches and Wizards of the Nineteenth Century. His intelligence was rather high for a Slytherin. Most thought he should have been in Ravenclaw, but it was his adversary that had ended up there. Professor Moriarty was the conductor of many agents who did a lot of special work for him…"

"He has—er, had—an adversary?"

A few feet from the end of the passage, they stopped as Scorpius turned to face Al. The exit was no doubt the portrait of the one Moriarty had talked of. Scorpius pointed to it and said, "Him. This here is the one that had dogged Professor Moriarty for years, and had nearly died for it. Although he had passed on at an old age, his portrait was kept young, so as to preserve his likeness better; and probably because the man was almost as vain as his rival."

Al was still not sure who Scorpius was talking about, so he followed him out of the portrait when he'd opened it.

The moment it swung shut, Albus and Scorpius turned around to face the painting. What they didn't expect to see was a little old lady in the frame. She had a powder blue wig on, bright red spectacles, a green handbag, and a lavender dressing gown. She had a stoop and leaned heavily on the edge of the portrait as if she needed a cane.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the lady croaked.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, un-amused, but Albus stared in confusion. "Er," he said, "what are—I mean I heard that there was a man in this portrait. Where did he go?"

"Oh, him?" the lady tittered. "He's not here right now, deary. He's off doing something of importance, I'm sure."

"Well, according to that Moriarty character, he said that whatever he was doing was fruitless and… er, what else did Professor Moriarty say, Scorpius?"

"Pretty much that he should give it up, for both their sakes. Before it got too out of hand, he'd said."

The lady laughed heartily, her head thrown back, surprising Al. Now that he looked closer, she didn't seem very ladylike. There was something off…

"He doesn't know what he speaks," the lady said, and then suddenly the lady was no longer standing before them. It was a man, tall and lanky, who now wore a deerstalker cap and a traveling cape. His eyes were sharp, his nose was hawk-like, and his chin was square. It was the latter that had made Al realize that something wasn't quite right.

"Who are—" Al began, but then Scorpius interrupted him with:

"Sherlock Holmes, I presume?"

"That I am," he said with a grin. He took out a pipe from somewhere and lit it with a match. He puffed on it a few times, staring at them with a piercing gaze. "Or what is passed as me these days, anyway. If you're to use this passage on your way back, you tell Moriarty that he does not fool me for a second. I'm on to him."

"Um, all right," Al said. "Er, what was with the disguise?"

"Just a precaution. I've had a clue of vital importance that Professor Moriarty isn't as retired as he wants others to think he is. He claims to have given up his criminal ways, but I know better." Holmes suddenly took out a jack knife and stabbed a piece of parchment into the edge of the frame. Scorpius and Albus both jumped at the sudden gesture. "This!" Holmes proclaimed. "This is the clue to his ruin. He will soon be relocated in a more secure area when I'm through with him. Having his portrait in Slytherin only escalates the problem."

"But he was in Slytherin when he was a student here," Scorpius said. "Surely that entitles him to have his portrait where it is."

"Perhaps," said Holmes. "But it only makes it easier for him to gather agents and followers. He's already had one of his lackeys create a disturbance near the Hufflepuff common room. I will not have him terrorizing the young, learning minds of the school!" He then lowered his voice and drew as near as he could, for a painting. "I had just finished a visit with the Fat Lady in Gryffindor tower. Charming lass; good taste in music. She had heard of a disturbance near the entrance to the kitchens as well. She thought maybe it was just some house-elves or some students trying to get in, but it fits nicely with what I had heard from Sir Cadogan."

"Sir Cadogan?" Scorpius gasped. "But he's an idiot!"

"I do not look a gift horse in the mouth, young one. He may not have much upstairs, as they say, but he is an honest man. He's one of my informants, which had been of great value. He also knows where to find first-rate tobacco and cocaine, and in which portrait." He straightened up then and removed the knife and parchment from the frame. "By the by, lads, how would you like to be a part of my Irregulars? You would do me and the school a great service if you kept your eyes and ears open for anything suspicious and report it back to me."

"But we told Mor—mmph!" Scorpius quickly shut Albus up with his hand.

"It would be our pleasure to help you, Mr Holmes, if we can. So, what happened near the Hufflepuff common room and kitchens, and what did Sir Cadogan tell you?" Scorpius asked, hoping it would distract Holmes, but the keen gaze that Holmes gave them told him it hadn't. Holmes let it go for now, though. Albus jerked his head away from Scorpius' hand, cheeks blazing.

"I best not say much more; for security, you understand," Holmes said. "Just watch yourselves if you're going to visit the kitchens. Although I do not recommend it—not until I've solved the case. Wherever it is that you are going, lads, try not to get caught. You might be implicated and I'd hate to see anything happen to an innocent student."

That was when Albus finally realized where they had ended up: near the Ravenclaw tower. It made sense, though, seeing how Sherlock had been in that house when going to school here.

"The library is just down these stairs," Scorpius said. They had to get a move on if they were to accomplish their mission. They'd already wasted enough time.

"Well, we'll be seeing you, Mr Holmes," Albus said.

"Yes, good bye, sir," Scorpius said, understanding his friend's eagerness to leave.

"Cheerio, boys," Holmes replied. "And good hunting!" As they left the portrait of Sherlock Holmes, the sweet sounds of a violin followed in their wake.

"What a strange person," Al said.

"What did you expect?" Scorpius said. "He's a Ravenclaw."

.-.

They finally reached the entrance to the library. When Al tried the door, he found it locked.

"Allow me," Scorpius said, whipping out his wand. He aimed the tip of it at the door handle and said, "Alohomora!" There was a clicking sound and then the door slowly swung open. Scorpius then twirled his wand like a drumstick before stowing it away, a smug expression on his face. "There we are. No problem."

"I could have done that," Al said, rolling his eyes.

"Sure you could have."

"Shh!" Al warned, and then quietly they went inside. He shut the door behind them as softly as he could once they were in.

The library was a lot darker, and spookier, at night. There were barely any fires going inside, and the quietness of it—no students whispering, no shuffling of feet, no turning of many pages—made it even more eerie. There was one ghost sitting in the far corner of the room, reading a book, but didn't react at all when they entered. Scorpius edged nearer to Al's right.

"Okay," he whispered. "I changed my mind. Let's get back to the dungeons where it's safe—"

"No," Al whispered back. "We've come this far. We can't stop now."

"We really shouldn't—" Scorpius said between chattering teeth, but he followed Al anyway when Al began walking. "I'll get into so much trouble from Father if we're caught. He's going to think something's wrong with me, sneaking about the school at night. He'll flip!"

"Shh! We're almost there. Just stick close and don't bump into anything."

Shivering, Scorpius stuck close to Al's side as they carefully made their way through the poorly lit library. After nearly bumping into a few tables and chairs, they found themselves standing before the entrance to the Restricted Section.

"What are you hoping to find once we're in?" Scorpius asked into Al's ear.

"Certain books on some… stuff. I'll know when I see it. Alohomora!"

They quickly and quietly slipped into the forbidden area. They kept the door open a crack, just in case it locked itself from the outside and made unlocking spells irreconcilable.

"We should have brought a lamp," Scorpius said. "I can't even see my hand in front of my face."

"Oh wait, I almost forgot that little handy spell my aunt taught me—lumos!" The tip of Al's wand lit up. Scorpius decided to light his wand too, and together they had plenty of light to see where they were going and to read the spines of the books.

"This is so Gryffindor-ish," Scorpius complained under his breath. "Seriously, you are a lion in snake's skin, aren't you? I really can't believe I let you talk me into this. I should have heeded my father's warning about Potters. They really are nothing but—"

"Shh!" Al hissed harshly, with a finger to his lips. "Do you want to wake the librarian?"

"It might be better than staying in here."

Albus ignored him as he read the spines of books from the first shelf he walked next to. They seemed promising, but nothing sounded like what he was looking for. After a minute, Scorpius started to relax and was looking at the books along with Al, but with a bit more fascination.

"Hmm," Al said. "Moste Potente Potions… that might come in handy later. Modern Dark Arts for the Busy Witch or Warlock…"

"I think Father's got a copy of that," Scorpius said conversationally. "You could borrow it if you like, whenever you have a chance to visit the manor."

"I'll think about it," Al said with a snort. "Let's see… Men Who Wish to Understand the Workings of the Dark Arts and Other Forbidden Things. That sounds interesting, actually. I wonder why it's in the Restricted Section."

"What do you expect?" Scorpius scoffed. "This is Hogwarts." He took out a book that looked well-used and worn, the cover slightly ripped in places and the outer cover peeling. It even looked to be stained in places. He was about to open it when Albus startled him.

"Ah, this sounds promising!" Al pulled out a slightly heavy book. He held it in one hand and fingered the edge of the cover's corner as if trying to decide if he should open it right away or not. "I may have found the book I need."

Scorpius slipped the book he'd pulled out—Moste Extreme Positions and Pleasures for All Witches and Wizards—back into its spot on the shelf, and it gave a soft, exotic moan (in a woman's voice) when he did, startling him for just a moment, before he came over to see what Al had found.

"Magick Most Evile?" Scorpius whispered in awe. "I've heard of that book. I'm not sure if Father has it, though…"

"This has to be it," Al said. "The one I'm looking for. Come on, let's find a spot to sit and look inside—"

They found a nice, secluded area in the Restricted Section, and scanned the book as fast as they could, both lit wands held aloft and book open in their laps. Unfortunately, they hadn't much luck. Al found the entry on something called Horcruxes, but it didn't go into any detail. Other than that, there was no mention of the Deathly Hallows.

"It's not here!" Albus groaned. He slammed the book shut in annoyance, and the book gave a ghostly wail. "Now we'll have to keep searching…"

"Well, is what you're looking for actually dark?" Scorpius said. "I mean… maybe it's not in this section of the library. It might be located somewhere in the regular area."

Together they went back to the place where the book had been. Al put it back into its original place, face falling. He felt sure that he'd found the right book, but it was obvious that he was looking for something that was like trying to find a needle in the Gringotts' Vaults. If only he'd had a clue of some sort… something to help start him off…

It was right when they were searching through the L's when the door to the Restricted Section opened abruptly and in stepped the librarian, Madame Readington.

"Just as I thought," she huffed. "Students out after curfew and digging around in the Restricted Section!"

Al and Scorpius knew the game was up. Albus, unfortunately, had completely forgot the excuse he'd come up with on the way there. He'd been so busy looking at book spines and scanning pages that it had slipped his mind.

"How'd you know we were here?" Al asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I heard noises, like moans and wails, for a start. These books in here, lads, are not exactly quiet. I also noticed the light shining from the crack beneath the door, and the door was ajar." The way she spoke, Al wondered if she'd been in Ravenclaw.

"We didn't want to accidentally get locked in," Scorpius explained.

"Well, you don't need to worry about that with this door, but that was your mistake, wasn't it? Come now, I'm taking you to your Head of House."

"Can't we just go back to our dormitory?" Al pleaded. He fake yawned. "I'm really tired."

"Sorry, I can't do that. I wouldn't be doing my job otherwise. Now, march."

.-.

Professor d'Eath was very displeased to be disturbed that evening. He was even more so when he saw the reason for the nightly disturbance.

"I should have known," he sighed. "Mr Potter, are you hoping to break your father's record of detentions he'd received?"

"No, sir," Al said, hanging his head and shuffling his feet nervously. "I'm really sorry, sir."

The librarian left to let the Head of Slytherin deal with his students. Professor d'Eath turned his attention to Scorpius then with some surprise.

"I expected Potter to do something like this, but you, Mr Malfoy?" he said.

Albus braced himself for Scorpius to try saving his own skin, but instead Scorpius just lowered his head and mumbled an apology. That was when Al remembered what Scorpius had told him: Slytherins stick together. He might have tried to wiggle out of it if it had been a Gryffindor he was caught with, but luckily for Al he was no Gryffindor.

"I take it you made Mr Malfoy follow you, Mr Potter? Don't you care what his father will say to him? I swear you want us to lose our chance at the House Cup."

"No, sir, I don't!" Al exclaimed.

"Well, let this be your final warning then," said Professor d'Eath. "I'm just going to give the two of you detention, and hopefully you'll learn your lesson. Next time I catch you—or hear of you—snooping in the Restricted Section, or any place forbidden, I'm taking points. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," they both intoned.

"Good. Your detentions start immediately. You'll both do some re-labeling of these dusty bottles in my glass cupboard, as well as cleaning them. There are pre-cut labels here in this drawer and some sticky tape, as well as some dust rags. No magic is allowed. I'll be at my desk grading some papers if you need me."

With that, Professor d'Eath turned and left them to it.

They polished the dusty bottles and re-labeled them in alphabetical order. They recognized most of the ingredients they encountered along the way. There were ashwinder eggs, billywig parts, dead cockroaches, daisy roots, fluxweed, hellebore, knotgrass, lacewing flies, moonstones, nettles, pomegranates, runespoor eggs, shrivelfigs, sneezewort, tubeworms, wormwood, and many others. Albus and Scorpius found themselves quizzing each other about them before they removed the labels and re-wrote them.

"…And shrivelfigs are used in…?"

"Shrinking Solutions," said Al.

"Correct. Now you quiz me with this one."

Albus took the bottle Scorpius held out for him. "Asphodel? Okay. What's it usually used in?"

"Draught of the Living Dead," Scorpius answered immediately.

"And where did the Greeks plant them?"

"Graveyards."

"Excellent." Albus then proceeded to peel the old label off and then cleaned the bottle before sticking on a new label. With a steady hand, Albus scrawled the name carefully on it.

Professor d'Eath wasn't too far from them, and although he was grading papers with quick, continuous movements they weren't sure if he could hear them testing each other. If he could, he gave no outward sign that he minded. It made Al wonder if it was because they were his students.

Nearly an hour went by and they were a little more than half done. It was nearing midnight and both boys were exhausted. They had an early class in the morning, so they were both hoping they'd be done soon. It didn't seem like the professor was even aware of the time, though, and he kept scribbling away on his students' parchments as if it were still the afternoon. It was like he had a never-ending supply of energy.

Finally, Scorpius decided to speak up, because the words on the labels were getting blurry to him and there was no way he could work in his sleepy condition.

"Sir, are we done for the night? My eyes are so sore I can't tell a 'p' from a 'q'…"

Professor d'Eath's head snapped up as if in surprise and then he looked at the clock on the wall. "It's already that late? My apologies, boys, I had no idea."

"It's all right, Professor," Al said politely. "I understand that you were busy with grading and all…"

Their head of house stood and examined their work. He nodded in satisfaction. "You both did a fine job. I'll go get your hall passes so you don't get into trouble on the way back to your dorms."

Professor d'Eath then turned and disappeared in his private quarters. That must be where he kept all the important papers and documents, which was clever because anyone could take them from his office if they knew where to look.

It was only a couple seconds later after the professor left when Al realized that there was still a cauldron full of the Felix Felicis sitting in the corner behind the professor's desk. A quick glance up on the shelf next to them showed that the empty bottles were still there too. After checking to make sure the professor wasn't back yet, Al reacted on instinct. With a sudden burst of energy, Al took an empty bottle from the shelf and dipped it into the potion. It was either madness or cleverness that made him do it, but the instinct was too strong to ignore.

"What are you—" Scorpius hissed, shocked.

"Shh!" Al reproached tersely. He then quickly corked and sealed the bottle with wax as he had learned from one of their Potions lessons. On that day, Professor d'Eath had instructed them on the finer points of making sure a bottle was properly sealed. If one wanted the potion to last it had to be done correctly.

Just as Albus put the final touches on it and stuck it into his robes, their professor returned.

"They're both signed, by me, with your excuses… here you go. Now, normally I'd have a student return the next day to finish their detention, but I think you two have learned your lesson."

"We certainly have, sir," Albus said. He hoped he sounded normal and not at all suspicious.

"Yes, sir," Scorpius said. "We had."

"Good. Then I bid you both a good night. I must finish grading these before the sun is up." He then dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Albus opened his mouth as if to ask about the rumor of whether the professor actually slept or not, but decided not to press his luck at the moment. He had a feeling that if he said anything more, Professor d'Eath would get on their case about why they were in the Restricted Section and he didn't want to have to deal with it right now. He was sure that their head of house already knew anyway.

With quick, sure steps they left the office. Al's bottle of Felix Felicis felt almost hot through his clothing, as if it were branding the word 'BAD' into his skin.

TBC