Epilogue
Albus groaned as he staggered up the stairs to the attic. His joints creaked along with the aging stairs as he slowly neared the door. At the age of 85, this wasn't exactly the best job for him to be doing, but James was unable to walk on his own anymore and Lily was off at her granddaughter's Hogwarts graduation. Albus was heaving by the time he reached the door and jostled the knob, it was stuck in place. Nobody must've gone up here in years, which was understandable.
His father had passed away several years ago at the ripe old age of 108, and his mother had followed in the same direction just last week. He was surprised at how long Ginny was able to hold on to her life after Harry died; she had spiraled into an understandable depression for several months after his funeral but woke up one day and decided to move out of the empty house and into a Magical Senior Community, not a home, but a community.
The house had been left to her children for whatever purpose they found necessary. But now that their mother was in gone, they saw no reason to hold on to their childhood home. A real estate agent was coming over in the next few days, but until then the house had to be cleaned out of anything "Potter".
Albus silently waved his wand and the door flew back open, a cloud of dust pouring out onto Albus. He brushed off his sweater and walked through the doorway. The placed was covered with dust and piles of old possessions. Luckily a few quick cleaning charms and Albus was able to start sorting through the mountains of old relics. He banished useless junk to garbage pile outside, and anything that looked important into a pile downstairs for later sorting. Despite his age, he was able to reduce the amount of crap in the attic at a fast rate.
Within about a half hour, he had the entire attic cleared out; the floor and walls lay bare except for a few spider webs here and there. Albus, was about to head back downstairs when something in the far corner of the room caught his eye. It looked like imprint of something in the wall, rectangular in shape and just barely rising out of the surface of the wall.
"Al!" James voice croaked from downstairs.
"What?" Albus called back.
"Are you done up there yet? Jeremy and Harrison just arrived to help us get everything sorted out." Jeremy and Harrison were just two of James 's many grandchildren. "Harrison has to get back to St. Mungos in two hours."
"Keep your shirt on James, I'll be down soon!" He called back. Useless old coot, he thought to himself grudgingly. His relationship with brother was fine, but he couldn't but feel annoyed at his brother's immobility, although it wasn't exactly his fault. James had a stellar career as a beater for the Appleby Arrows, but had suffered many bludger hits throughout his career which in turn seemed to speed up the aging in his joints. Poor James had been confined to a wheelchair last year when it became apparent that was no way potions or charms could restore his ability to walk.
Albus himself didn't have any grandchildren, not from lack of trying of course. He had been married twice, but both unions ended in horrific divorce proceedings. Albus hated being stuck in one place for too long, his constant need to travel and refusal to settle down to raise a family had been the reason for both separations. He just couldn't find anyone willing to help him raise a family with his need to travel and dwell in foreign lands.
He turned his attention back to the imprint in the wall and stepped closer to inspect it more fully. He raised his wand to the aged wood and tapped it lightly; much to his astonishment, the imprint expanded out of the wall, revealing an old dusty trunk. It remained suspended in the air as Albus looked upon it with confusion.
Who did it belong to? And more importantly, why did they find the need to hide it in the wall? Seeing as how his parents had this house built right before James was born, it had to belong to one of his family members. Rather than calling down to James to see if it was his, Albus decided to uncover the mystery himself. After all, whatever the trunk held couldn't be too terrible- embarrassing photos and old mementos from past relationships at worse.
Albus raised his wand again and recited a hex detection charm. The trunk became enclosed in thinning vapor, indicating that were hexes in place-but they were very old. Perhaps cast years ago. Albus easily undid the hexes, something that he had done many times before throughout his career as a DADA professor. He never taught at his alma mater of Hogwarts (although he had been given several offers over the decades), but instead traveled the globe to work in a variety of wizarding schools. He had taught classes on every continent, even to a clandestine tribe of magical folk who presided in Antarctica. That had been a cold, but very rewarding, six months.
But something felt different about disarming this trunk, something felt familiar. Not familiar in a sense that he had done this a million times before, but rather in more a déjà vu sense. As if he had disarmed this trunk before; but he couldn't remember ever seeing it in the attic, or anywhere else in his life.
Without further stalling, Albus opened the lid of the trunk to be met with the sight of even more vapor. But this vapor was thick, having withheld the test of time. It was also a very familiar silvery color, much like the one in his personal pensieve he kept for research purposes.
Well that solves part of the mystery Albus thought to himself. The trunk was an oversized pensieve, simply put. But who did it belong to and why did they find the need to hide it the wall and cast dozens of protective hexes? There was only one way to find out.
Albus stepped forward and bent his body over the trunk, lowering his head into the pool of vapor. He felt a familiar tugging sensation as his body was pulled into the trunk of mysteries. ..
He found himself in a very familiar looking room, it wasn't in anyplace that he could remember from a family function. But he had definitely been there before. The walls were a made of a dark oak, furnished with dark drapes, leather armchairs and an assortment of artwork depicting images of Salazar Slytherin. And yet, it was definitely unlike any room he could remember from Hogwarts.
He suddenly became aware that he was not the only person in the room; a middle aged man with light blonde hair was hunched over something at his desk. Albus easily recognized him as Draco Malfoy. The door to the room opened and much to his astonishment, his twenty year old self walked in after an equally young Scorpius. It became all too obvious that he was standing in Draco's office at Malfoy Manor. Draco looked up from his work.
"Oh, hello son." He greeted Scorpius. "Albus," he added with a curt nod. "What are you two up to?" The elder Malfoy had always been courteous with Albus, although it was obvious that he'd rather his son find a different best mate. Preferably someone who was not the son of his own childhood enemy.
"Hey Dad, Albus is shipping off to Japan tomorrow and I wanted to take him out to some muggle bars. Seeing as how he won't be back for a while." Scorpuis explained. "So, can I borrow the car?" Draco reluctantly agreed to purchase a muggle car for certain occasions. He still wasn't willing to take a driving test.
"Japan?" Draco questioned.
"Yes sir, I was recently initiated into the International Association of Magical Education and my first assignment is at the Shinto Academy of Sorcery in Hrioshima." Albus explained. Draco was a bit taken back.
"That's very impressive, Albus. Congratulations." He turned to his son. "You can take the car, just don't wreck it. I don't quite feel like shoveling out more money for another one of those…contraptions." Draco explained, tossing the keys to Scorpius
"Thanks dad." Scorpius smiled.
"Have a good evening Mr. Malfoy." Albus said.
"Enjoy your time in Japan." Draco added with a slight smile. Albus watched his younger self and younger Scorpius exit the room. Draco went back to his work. Albus couldn't help but feel confused. Who's memory was this? He was in it, but it certainly wasn't his. He didn't remember much of that night and for good reason; he and Scorpius got smashed and had to take an international portkey to Japan the next morning with the worst hangover of his life. Just as he was about to wave his wand and switch to another memory- a voice called out-
"Petrifus Totalis!" Draco went stiff in his seat and tipped over onto the floor with a crash. Albus tried to see where the hex came from, but no one else was in the room. And then he saw his father's head hanging in mid air.
"What the fuck?" Albus murmured to himself.
"Good evening Malfoy…long time no see." Harry smirked. Albus noticed that his father had a thick rope swung over his shoulder, suddenly all the clues added up to event that Albus had nearly forgotten about. He had only been in Japan for two days when received owl from Scorpius explaining that his mother had come home from a weekend trip to find Draco hanging from a support beam in his office. No suicide note had been left. But there was no evidence, or bruises on his skin that suggested foul play.
"There's no way…" Albus said to himself.
"Well Draco, I'd love to remove that hex and have a few nice words with you, but I need to back at the ministry in a half hour." Harry went to action and levitated Draco's stiff body into the air. He quickly tied a noose in the rope and secured around the elder Malfoy's neck. He pointed his wand at the other end of the rope, which rose on its own accord and fastened itself around a horizontal beam on the ceiling.
With Malfoy's body still levitating in the air, Harry undid the stunning spell to allow him to talk.
"What the hell is this about Potter!"
"You know what this is about- all those years of false accusations, trying to kill me, and being an overall fucking prat. That's what this is about Malfoy!"
"Never expected you to hold such a grudge." Draco sneered. "So this is how you're going to kill me, the muggle way?" he further mocked.
"Don't be so quick to speak negatively about muggles. Sure, I could hit you with a quick Avada Kedarva, and you would fall dead to the ground, with no pain." He paused. "But this way, I'll be able to watch your last breaths go by in a suspenseful agony, and the best part is- the next person who walks into this room is going to look at your body, and assume that you've taken the cowards way out."
"You won't get away this Potter! People are going to ask questions about this, I am very well connected."
"I don't doubt your connections, Malfoy. However, seeing as how I've done this type of thing before, albeit with more gruesome effects, I have yet to be caught." Harry said smugly. "Remember your old mistress, Dolores Umbridge."
"Yes, she disappeared years ago. Nobody's been able to find her."
"And they never will, I assume her body has long since been washed out to sea via the Tiber river in Italy. Probably devoured by sharks and shit out years ago by now." Harry smirked.
"Proud of yourself, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. Harry grinned and flicked his wand. The noose around Draco's neck tightened, rendering him unable to speak.
"Don't try to condescend me you weasel. I'm not proud of what do; it's just what I have to do to avoid taking out my dark urges on the ones who care about me." Harry explained. "Now Draco, just to give you some information on how this will happen; most people think that death by hanging is induced by strangling, and blocking oxygen to your main air way. However, hanging victims more commonly die as a result of the neck breaking from the sudden drop, causing trauma to the spinal cord."
Draco peered at him with a mixture of anger and confusion.
"Give me whatever disproving looks you want Malfoy. I just wanted to let you know how it would happen, most of my victims never get this type of scientific explanation, you should be grateful." He looked down at his watch, "Damn I'm gonna be late," he turned back to Malfoy and raise his wand. "Sweet dreams, you fucking tosspot!" he brought his wand down and Malfoy dropped, until the slack of the rope ran out. A loud snapping noise sounded throughout the room. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his mouth let out a strain of unintelligible grunts and heaves.
With much panic, Albus brought out his own wand and gave it a wave. His heart was thumping hard, he had to get out of there. He felt his body being pulled backwards, colors meshed into a confusing swirl of blurry images and incomprehensible noise. Just as he felt the bile beginning to rise out of his throat, the swirling stopped, and he found himself in yet another familiar room.
This time it was much more evident that he was in his own home, specifically in his father's office. His father's normally tidy office was in a disarray of scattered papers and clothing, for some reason. He looked up to see the very same trunk he was sticking his head into right now, suspended in the air between his fifteen year old self and a very pissed off looking Harry Potter.
His younger self was dressed in Hogwarts robes and looked sweaty, anxious, and terrified. His father's jaw was set in stone as he looked over his son, wand at the ready. Albus lifted up his head to meet his father's stare
"Why?" Albus asked. Harry remained silent, face stuck in a passive expression.
"Dad, why did you kill him?" Albus repeated. "Why didn't you just report him to the muggle authorities?"
"Because I'm in law enforcement, and I know that it wouldn't get him what he deserved." Harry answered. Albus looked at his younger self taking a deep breath to sooth his nerves. He felt himself doing the same thing; this was not something that he remembered from his childhood. Not at all. Was it a false memory, perhaps? Then again, the last memory he saw seemed to fill in some blanks over the mysterious suicide of Draco Malfoy. Albus wasn't in the country at the time of course, but the topic was still something of great public interest when he returned to Britain eight months later.
"How many others are there, dad? How many muggles have you killed?" his younger self pleaded.
"I don't kill muggles son, only criminals, only dangerous people." Harry answered placidly.
"But, why?" Albus pleaded. Harry looked over his son, as if contemplating how to answer. After several moments of silence he said, "Because Albus, this is the best way to hide my darkness. So I won't lash out at the people around me." Harry said softly.
Elder Albus felt his heart drop. There was no way this was real. Harry started looking at his younger self in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable. As if he was sizing him up. His mouth opened and closed several times, as if reciting his game plan in his mind. Younger Albus just at his father blankly. And then, all of a sudden, Harry's wand was raised right to his face, his voice bellowed out the word-
"Obliviate!"
Younger Albus's face shifted from blank to scared to blank again. He looked around the room, head wobbling in a daze. Albus could only stare in shock, fear, anger as watched the effects of the memory charm kick in. At least he knew why he couldn't remember this night.
Harry snapped his fingers to get the boy's attention. Young Albus's head snapped towards his father and grinned. Harry picked his old invisibility cloak off the floor as well as Albus's wand and tossed them into his son's arms.
"Albus, you will forget about anything you saw or heard in this house tonight. You will also forget about any reasoning you had, whatever it is, to sneak home with your brother's cloak. Understand?"
Like a zombie, fifteen year old Albus nodded his head blankly. His heart started pacing at an alarming rate. Watching his father kill Malfoy and admit his sins was hard enough. But watching his father erase his memory of that night, was enough to send him over the edge. He couldn't stand to be trapped within the memory any longer. He wordlessly, but frantically waved his wand and felt his trembling body being pulled upwards.
The next moment, Albus was stumbling backwards, catching himself against the wall. His knees nearly buckled underneath his shaking limbs, his face coated with sweat and his heart still pumping away.
What do I do now? Albus thought to himself. He could either close up the trunk and destroy it- erasing any evidence of his father's darkness. Or he could share what he saw to the world- exposing the hidden nature of Harry Potter- a magical icon, one of the greatest wizards to ever tread the earth. No, he couldn't forget what he saw and he couldn't let his father's horrible deeds lay quiet. Maybe if they kept it in the family, guarding it from outsiders like a hidden treasure- only it was a terrifying secret, not a box of gold. A box of shit, a box of lies, but a box of answers nonetheless.
"Albus! Albus what's taking so long, did you fall or something?" James voice traveled from downstairs.
"No, I'm fine, but I need some help with something. Can you send up Harrison or Jeremy? I need someone to help me carry something."
"What are you on about you old coot? You have a wand, just levitate it downstairs." Fucking prat Albus thought to himself.
"Just send one of them up here, I need help!" he barked back. "Ow!!" he stammered. The frantic beating in his chest had turned into a sharp stabbing pain. He felt his left arm go numb, knowing full well what his body might be trying to tell him. Albus feared the worse. He swore under his breath and collapsed to the floor. His breathing heightened into harsh pants and then subsided into one last exhale.
Next to Albus's motionless body, the trunk remained suspended in the air, its lid fully open.
"Albus? Albus what's wrong, did you fall down again?" James croaked from his wheelchair. He was answered with silence, which was odd because Albus had been screaming his head off not thirty seconds ago. He turned to his grandson, Harrison.
"Can you up and check on him? I fear you old uncle might've had a fit." He asked . Harrison wordlessly nodded his head. He had completed his healer training four months ago, and knew how to handle a situation like this.
Harrison started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He rounded the corner and peered up at the narrow steps that led to the attic. The door was ajar.
"Uncle Albus! Are you alright?" he shouted as he moved swiftly up the stairs. He heard nothing in response, but when he got the doorway, he understood why.
Albus was lying on his back, his hand still clutching at his chest. His eyes were open, but lifeless.
"Shit." Harrison mumbled to himself. He knelt down to feel his pulse, but there was no use. The man was dead, and there were no potions or charms that existed which could bring him back to life. He was thankful that it had been him and not his grandfather or his brother to discover Albus like this. He saw dead bodies all the time at Mungo's. The sight of his dead great Uncle was not particularly moving or horrifying. He was only annoyed at the thought of attending yet another funeral. He would have to take more time off from work and deal with yet another mountain of paperwork when the mourning was over.
He noticed a trunk levitating next to Albus's body and peered into it. He was met by the sight of swirling clouds of silvery vapor. Obviously a pensieve he thought to himself. Rather than immediately inform his grandfather about Albus, or bring his body to Mungo's- Harrison leaned over the trunk and dipped his head into the vapor.
He felt his body being pulled into the depths of the trunk and into moments from his great grandfather's life that he never learned about at Hogwarts. Moments and memories that would change the conception of Harry Potter forever.
THE END
A/N: That's that. What do you think? Reviews appreciated.
