Chapter 9: The Protector's Club
September slid into October with fierce winds and an unexpected increase in workload. They were being re-introduced to nonverbal magic in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and were thus expected to use it in almost all of their classes as well. Apart from some steely looks, there were no more incidents in Herbology, and Albus continued to excel at Potions, with he and Scorpius-one due to natural talent and the other due to vigorous studying-proving themselves to be the top students in their year.
Albus was somewhat fond of always being busy, as it kept his mind off of the issues relating to the intense dislike that the school as a whole had for him. With his mind off of his lack of popularity and focused on other things, he began noticing something strange.
"Where were you last night?" Albus asked Scorpius as they both sat down at the breakfast table together.
Scorpius looked up, grey circles visible underneath his eyes. He poured syrup on his waffles lazily as he spoke. "Patrolling. Same as every night mate."
"Well for how long?" Albus asked. "Me and Morrison were up until about two and didn't see you-"
"I got in at about a quarter passed" Scorpius said, frowning. "I'm covering more ground, I reckon that the new fifth year Prefects are slacking off a bit. You can even ask Mel" he said, indicating her.
Melonie nodded slightly; she couldn't be more demonstrative, as Morrison was napping on her shoulder, his cleared plate sitting in front of him. "I went to bed around one...but yeah, Scorpius kind of needed to stay behind. No one's ever in the Astronomy tower!" she said irritably.
Albus nodded in acknowledgement, but still gave his friend a shifty look. Nearly every night now he was out patrolling until the sun was almost up, and Albus was beginning to think that there was more to it; in fact, if he didn'tknow any better, he'd think that Scorpius was over-studying to keep his grades up, now that his father was around.
He instinctively looked up at Professor Malfoy, who was having a polite conversation with Hagrid. By the time that Albus had turned back, however, there was a rustling of wings above, and soon enough, envelopes were dropping all around them.
The Daily Prophet almost never dropped anymore. Instead it was the WAR Weekly that showered the students, and this particular Tuesday was no different. Predictably, one landed directly in front of Scorpius, and he tore into it at once despite his apparent fatigue.
"Blimey!" he exclaimed after a single glance, waking Morrison up and causing him to give Melonie a slight head butt.
"Ouch!" she shot out.
"Sorry princess" Morrison said, rubbing at his eyes and looking around. "Whassagoinon?"
Scorpius was not the only one who had exclaimed. People at all four tables were speaking in strong whispers, and Albus was sure that the reason was in Scorpius' hands.
"What happened?" Albus asked at once.
"Assassination attempt on Waddlesworth" Scorpius said plainly.
He held up the front page, were there was indeed a headline suggesting it.
Assassin Fails in Attempt at Waddlesworth's Life; Now on the Run
The moving picture underneath showed Waddlesworth standing proudly, a group of four or five imposing Renegades surrounding him; one of which Albus recognized as the Hammer-Waddlesworth's main muscle.
"Who are those blokes?" Albus asked, curious as to why they were standing in such an official manner; they appeared to be in what looked like a pre-meditated pose.
"Waddlesworth's personal guards" Scorpius said simply. "They follow him everywhere now, basically. Not sure if they have an actual name or anything-"
"What a wimp" Morrison said, finally registering what was going on and shaking his head.
This piece of information didn't surprise Albus in the slightest however; Waddlesworth had never shown himself to be more than a mediocre wizard, hence why he was almost always seen in the company of the Hammer. What intrigued Albus much more was the bulk of the article.
"So wait, what happened?" Albus asked. "Read it."
"Not really much here" Scorpius said, scanning the paper. "Which is weird...there's usually so much detail. But anyway, it basically just says that a masked attacker reached him somewhere near his home and went in for the kill, was successfully defended by these guys here, and then the guy fled. Waddlesworth was moved somewhere safe, and they're looking for the guy now."
"Or girl" Morrison added, but both Albus and Scorpius gave him a dark look.
"What? Just saying..."
"Did they get any looks at the assassin at all?" Albus asked.
"Doesn't seem like it, I mean, he was wearing a mask..."
"Probably a Dark Alliance member" Melonie said thoughtfully.
"That's what it says here" Scorpius said, holding the article up and pointing to an official quote from Waddlesworth.
This didn't sit right with Albus, though. He took the paper and read the quote quickly.
"This assassination attempt has done nothing to deter me from making due on my promises to the Wizarding World" says Waddlesworth, who spoke to us briefly hours after the incident occurred. "If anything, it has only served to remind those who needed it how vile what we oppose is. There is no doubt in mind my that this attack was ordered by Sebastian Darvy, who understands how imminent his defeat is. 'Deaths Right Hand' has realized that he cannot get a grasp on me, and in the ultimate act of cowardice,attempted to have me killed from a distance. I will not be returning the favor in this regard however; if I am elected as Minister of Magic, I hope to defeat Sebastian Darvy head on, to remind him of the powers of both justice and unity!"
Albus stared down at the quote, deep in thought.
"What's baking mate?" Morrison asked him.
"Darvy definitely didn't do this" Albus announced, and a first year a few seats away flinched slightly at the name, which he ignored.
"How'd you come to that conclusion?" Melonie asked.
"Because it's not like him. Darvy wants a war; that's why he's building an army, isn't it? No, he wouldn't want Waddlesworth gone, not like this. He'll wait until the Minister position is filled."
"Well if it wasn't Darvy's men, then who was it?" Scorpius asked. "Maybe he was sent by someone else running for Minister?"
"Is there someone else running for Minister?" Morrison piped up. "I haven't even head any other names."
"That's only because Waddlesworth's face is everywhere" Scorpius said sharply. "There are other candidates-"
"I don't think it was someone Ministry related either" Albus said, halting their conversation. As far as the world knew, Waddlesworth was the best thing for it. It had to be someone outside of both the Dark Alliance or the Ministry...and yet, it was highly unlikely that someone from inside WAR had rebelled as well. A face was swimming in his head though; a disgusting face, one that was horribly scarred all on one side...
"Are you thinking the same thing as me?" Scorpius asked, and Albus knew that he was.
"No" Albus said lowly, discarding the thought from his head. "It wasn't him. If it was, it wouldn't have been an 'attempt' now, would it?"
They dropped the conversation here, however, as the bell rang to signal the start of the day. Albus and Scorpius headed for Charms, while Morrison headed back upstairs for one of his many breaks (most likely to be used for a solid nap.) As they walked to the second floor, however, Albus noticed that they were among the few who had actually dropped the topic from breakfast.
"How close d'you reckon it was-"
"Blimey, I wonder what'll happen when they catch him? Maybe he can lead them back to Death's Hand-"
Albus rolled his eyes as they lined up outside of Flitwick's classroom, but found himself distracted by something in the distance of the corridor. Two of the Renegades assigned for their protection were standing facing one another, deep in a hushed conversation. As the class began to file in, Albus could have sworn that he saw them both chuckle at a private joke. How strange...shouldn't they be wearing grim expressions at what had nearly happened?
Albus received a break from the Waddlesworth talk during the lesson, as Professor Flitwick had their utmost attention with what he was teaching; it was a completely new charm today. Their tiny teacher was teaching them the Heavyweight charm, the opposite of the Featherweight charm that they'd learned years prior. Rather than decreasing the weight of an object, this charm was designed to increase the weight of things-with varied effects. Professor Flitwick warned them to be cautious though. Any lapse in concentration and a designated item could end up much heavier than intended.
"Now remember," Professor Fliwick was telling them from the front of the room, "you'll want to make the object lighter than intended at first, in your head, before increasing the weight. It's best to gradually build up to it, for both safety and practical reasons. Get a feel for your feathers now!"
The class as a whole picked up the feathers from off of their desks, trying to get a good sense at how much muscle was needed to lift them. This proved to be much more difficult than Albus had expected. Weighing next to nothing, it was hard to get a good measure of what he wanted it to feel like.
"Now place your feathers down, concentrate on how much you want it to weigh-let's say about as much as a textbook- and say the incantation. Peis Progressius! Remember to keep you wand steady as you aim it now!"
Albus did as he was told, concentrating fiercely on what a textbook felt like in his hands. To be exact, he imagined his Advanced Potion Making copy, as it was what he was most used to.
"Peis Progressius!"
The class chorused it along with him, and almost immediately, a sound like clapping thunder reverberated throughout the room. A girl from Ravenclaw had evidently over-done it-her feather had fallen right through the now collapsed desk, leaving a crack on the ground.
"I'm sorry!" she cried.
"Quite alright dear" Professor Fliwick said, flicking his wand lazily. In an impressive display of spell work, the desk repaired itself, the feather vanished for a moment and appeared on top of it once more, apparently at its usual weight, and the floor mended itself as well.
"But remember to think light at first!" he added. "See here how Mr. Parish has done it?"
Milton Parish was tossing his feather back and forth in his hands as though it were the weight of a Quaffle. Albus went to pick up his own feather and saw that he'd went just a tad bit too far-it was closer to the weight of a brick than anything else. To his left, Scorpius was holding his feather as comfortably as Milton was.
The entire class period was dedicated to this one particular spell, which proved to be much more frustrating then it had seemed at first. Most people seemed to be along the same lines; they could alter the feather's weight easily, but pin-pointing it was rather difficult. Albus found himself unenthusiastic about learning the spell anyway; he couldn't imagine a time when it would be used outside of playing a practical joke on a muggle.
Class ended quickly, and soon enough he and Scorpius were going their separate ways so that he and Morrison could meet up with Mirra for Care for Magical Creatures. They'd moved passed studying the Demiguise last week, and yesterday had started working with Kneazles. Like the Demiguise, they ended up being among the tamer creatures in the history of the class, though Kneazles were admittedly clever and difficult to get close to if they were moody at the time.
Due to Morrison's slacking, they ended up being a bit tardy, meaning the class had already been instructed to try and feed the Kneazles. Albus noticed that there was a lot of low conversing going on, unusual for Hagrid's class. As their professor walked among them back and forth and giving instruction, those not close to the giant were having private discussions. Albus caught words like "assassin" and knew what was going on at once.
"You guys are late" Mirra said as they approached. Her Kneazle was not eating. Instead, the orange cat-like creature was on its back, moving around as she rubbed its belly.
"Yeah, just woke up" Morrison said groggily.
"What's the talk at your table?" Albus asked, crouching down next to her and reaching for the Kneazle. It hissed, but calmed down when Mirra scratched it behind the ears.
"What do you mean?" Mirra asked curiously.
"I mean at breakfast. I'm guessing you've got some WAR Weekly subscribers over there..."
"Oh right" she said casually. "Meh, there's a big fuss about it now, but it'll all blow over by tomorrow-nothing actually happened, anyway. Isn't that right, Mr. Sneezes!" she added, turning back to the Kneazle and rubbing faster.
Unusually, however, Mirra proved to be ultimately wrong here. For the remainder of the day and even into the weekend, the assassination attempt ended up being the main point of conversation around the castle. Albus and his friends seemed to be the only few who weren't very interested in it, mostly because they were among those who didn't love Waddlesworth,Only Scorpius was really following what was going on with Wands and Redemption, and so for informative purposes only.
What's more, however, Albus privately thought that he himself was alone in his actual thoughts on the matter. Having mulled over it somewhat for the last few days, Albus had come to the conclusion that he was nearly ambivalent on the matter. Waddlesworth's life was not very important to him, and knowing what he knew about the intentions of the WAR leader...a part of him had been someone let down by Waddlesworth's survival. He cringed at the thought of this; that he preferred the death of one individual to the potential deaths of many. Hadn't WAR once applied this same logic to killing him, back when Ares had, for some reason, wanted him? What did that mean about Albus' own thought process?
Thankfully, the assassination topic finally did die down on Monday, when a new announcement was made that completely caught the students off guard.
"Those who have been forced to make the difficult decision have agreed" Headmistress McGonagall announced to them all at breakfast. "Hogsmeade visits will indeed take place this year. In addition to the protection granted throughout the village last year, we will now also have the very great benefit of having our protectors here to aid us as escorts" she added, waving her hand towards the portion of the hall where the WAR members were all standing.
She continued explaining the details, but Albus, stunned, turned to his friends at once.
"She can't be serious" he said. "With what's going? How many people do you think will actually go?"
"Probably a lot more than you think" Morrison said, scooping up scrambled eggs into his mouth. "People really feel protected with these blokes around, and besides, what are the odds of Hogsmeade being attacked twice?"
Albus sat back and pondered the same thing. His father had said over the summer that Darvy was unlikely to attack, both because it would show his reluctance to attack Hogwarts, as well as because he was too busy trying to create an army anyway. But those in charge of the school most likely didn't know these details, leading Albus to believe that there was some very poor management going on.
"It's also to stimulate the economy" Melonie added from next to Morrison. "Just like last year. Waddlesworth put out a lot of gold to fix these shops up, didn't he? Business probably still isn't back to usual yet..."
"She's right" Scorpius spoke up. "Doesn't matter if the world is in the midst of being destroyed; people still need gold. We've got bigger things to worry about than Hogsmeade visits though, mate" he added, turning to Albus.
"What's that?"
"We've got a Quidditch team to train."
Albus had all but postponed the first Quidditch practice of the season, mostly because he was busy with his classes, and partially because he was somewhat frightened of the results. He kept putting it off to his teammates, who seemed unusually eager to get back on the Pitch for official practices. With the announcement of the Hogsmeade visit, however-the first of which almost always took place around the same time as the annual opener between Gryffindor and Slytherin-he was forced to spread along the message that practice was to take place on that Sunday.
"It might not be so bad" Scorpius told him as they walked to the Pitch together on Sunday morning, eyes winced together due to the intense light. "I mean, they all got steadily better last year, and maybe once we kind of get them back into a routine..."
Albus gave his friend a blank expression, sympathizing with his reasons for optimism, but not entirely convinced himself. On some level, he also acknowledged that Scorpius' desire to do well this year may have been stronger than his own, even though he was the captain and it was thus technically "his" team. The reason for this, he was sure, was the added pressure on his friend now. This would be the first time that his father had ever witnessed him play; Albus was positive that Scorpius would beat himself up much more than usual if his father ended up witnessing anything less than greatness this season.
Barnabus Curder and Lucas Strossen were the first to arrive, both of them looking haughty, but at least ready to get down to business. Albus silently addressed them both by indicating the chest next to him that contained all of the equipment. Barnabus Curder scooped up the Quaffle at once and proceeded to mount his broom, Scorpius doing the same with his and streaking upwards to the goal posts. A few minutes later and the rest of the team had arrived, all of them taking off in an unorganized fashion to warm-up on their own. After a few minutes of surveying them, Albus joined them in the air to issue directions.
"We're going to start light" he said, once he was hovering high in the air and had their undivided attention. "Simple teamwork-the foundation for how Quidditch is played. I want to see some passing drills from the Chasers; remember, you're not trying to score on Scorpius, your just trying to confuse him. Beaters, I want you taking the defensive here. Protect your Chasers from harm, and when I give the say-so, start aiming at them. Start now."
They all immediately went into their proper positions, though Lucas Strossen did so almost half-heartily; it seemed as though he still wanted to practice on his own for a bit. Albus played viewer for this portion of the practice, watching and preparing to criticize once it was all said and done. As Scorpius was getting little work due to the instructions to mostly pass, Albus hovered near him.
"How do they look?" he asked.
"A little rusty" his friend responded. "But Tiffani looks like she got better over the summer. And man, that Strossen kid is really destroying those things" he added, jerking his head towards Lucas, who had indeed taken a monster swing at the nearest Bludger and knocked it half way across the field. "Too bad he's a prat..."
Albus gave a light smile, then looked over to where the Bludger had gone. Something caught his interest however. He was used to a few dedicated Quidditch enthusiasts showing up to watch their practices, but what was very odd was the house colors of one. From a distance, he could see a girl sitting in the yellow and black of Hufflepuff.
"What's going on?" Albus asked his friend seriously, pointing over at her.
Scorpius took a long and hard look before finally giving an answer. "I know her" he said simply. "That's Anastasia Anifur; she's a Prefect. We have some classes together too."
Albus kept his bemused expression. "Well...what's she doing here?" he asked quickly. "If she's spying then I have to-"
"She's not spying mate!" Scorpius snapped, and Albus was taken aback by how abrasive he sounded. "I invited her here...she's not big on Quidditch and doesn't really know it like that, so I told her she could watch me practice just to get a feel for what it's about. Calm down..."
Albus had no immediate answer for this, but the momentary distraction caused a problem for Scorpius. With his attention diverted from the practice, the Quaffle had soared right on by him.
"Take that!" Barnabus Curder announced loudly, swirling around in a victory lap as Lucas Strossen came to meet him in the air, Beater's bat still in hand.
"Nice one!" he complemented his friend, and they did an obnoxious handshake that made Albus stifle a laugh.
"Congratulations" Scorpius hollered to Barnabus dryly. "You successfully scored on someone who wasn't looking at the time. You sir, are a prodigy."
"Well maybe that'll teach you to keep your eyes focused on the game!" Strossen belted in defence of his friend, and then they both flew off.
"Can't stand that kid..." Scorpius said lowly, shaking his head.
Albus nodded in agreement, but practice was not halted simply because Scorpius was irritated. Albus instead switched things up, joining the fray himself and directing the Beaters to simultaneously protect he and the Chasers. To make this an effective practice, however, he had to play the very dangerous game of pretending to be inept. He was purposefully flying near the Bludgers, getting in their line of fire simply for the sake of giving his Beaters a realistic situation to guard him in.
As he did so, he took notes on the other players' performances as well. Tiffani Garret had improved over the summer, but her fellow Chaser Garth Moone had made a very poor change in his play style. Albus noticed that he tended to hold the Quaffle out as he flew for a quicker release, but at the same time, this made it an easy target to be stolen by an opposing Chaser. Calling a halt to the practice momentarily, Albus took him aside and attempted to show him what was proper.
"You want to cradle it" he said. "Protect it with your body-make the other team need to reach in if they want a shot at swiping it off of you."
It felt a little weird to be directing someone in a position that he was not particularly adept at, but his mother had played Chaser professionally, and he knew enough about it to know what was correct. They resumed practice immediately after this, with Albus now instructing them to work on turning quickly.
"This isn't going so bad" Albus said, flying towards Scorpius, who was not participating in this particular exercise, as he faced the same direction all game.
"Huh? Oh yeah" he said, and his eyes flickered away from the stands. Albus gave him a thoughtful look, but his attention returned to the rest of the pitch when he noticed that Garthe, most likely subconsciously, was again carrying the Quaffle incorrectly as he practiced stopping abruptly and turning the other way.
"Hold on" Albus groaned, and he slowly started on his way over to him. While still a ways off, however, he noticed that Garthe was approached by another teammate-and it wasn't even a Chaser.
"Here, like this" Lucas Strossen was saying, grabbing at the Quaffle.
"Get off me!" Garthe said, pulling it back with a brave expression on his face; Strossen was bigger than him, after all.
"Just let me show you, you let Potter-"
He gave a tremendous tug at the red ball, which was now firmly wrapped around by Garthe's arms. In his resistance he was pulled forward-
"Stop!" Albus bellowed, but he was too late. Lucas Strossen did indeed seize the Quaffle, but only because Garthe had fallen off of his broom. Strossen was left hanging in the air, mouth open wide in surprise at what happened, completely immobile as others in both the air and the stands shrieked.
Albus zoomed forward and downwards, watching as Garthe flailed in the air. He instinctively spiraled to gain more speed, knowing full well what little chance there was that he'd get there in time-
He did. Sort of. In a display of skill that he couldn't ever remember showing before, nor cared about now, he managed to wrap his arms around Garthe as they were only feet from the ground. Catching a person was nothing like catching a Snitch though. Garthe weighed him down immediately, his body still half hanging, and upside down at that, due to the position he'd been in when he was caught. Albus felt them both tumble off of his broom, a cracking noise and a yell from Garthe signaling that he was at least alive.
Albus could only lay there on the grass next to him, panting heavily and clutching at a hurt rib. Scorpius zoomed down quickly, standing over them both with concern on his face.
"Okay!" he yelled back up to the others fiercely. "Practice is over!"
"So what do we do?" Albus asked both of his friends in the Common Room later.
"By the sound of it,you should have Doofus Strossen thrown in Azkaban for attempted murder" Morrison said acidly.
The three of them all looked over towards the fire, where Strossen and Barnabus Curder were having a serious conversation in whispers. For the first time that Albus could recall, there was no signs of arrogance on Strossen's face. On the contrary, he looked both shaken and worried.
"We've got to kick him off the team" Scorpius spoke up. "He's hazardous!"
"It was an accident" Albus said briskly, and then, at the look on both of their faces, he added to it. "I don't like him either okay!"
Scorpius snorted and crossed his arms.
"Look, be practical" Albus told him. "We get rid of Strossen, and that's two spots that we have fill."
All three of them grimaced. After having taken Garthe to the Hospital Wing, he'd learned about the extent of the damage. He'd broken his arm, and because he'd balled up his fist as well, three of his fingers. Madam Clearwater and Lester both assured them all that he would be alright, but also suggested that he at least sit out the first game of the year. Mending bones magically, Madam Clearwater said, would take away from his pain and discomfort, but would still leave his arm tender for a while.
This was the main topic of the night, and one that they exhausted, what with Melonie studying with Denise and the three of them having alone time to talk sports uninterrupted. In the end, the three of them (Morrison had a say on principle alone, despite not actually being a part of the team) ended up deciding that Strossen would stay on the team, if only because scratching him would set them back even further. They also agreed, however, that one more incident would result in Morrison picking up the Beater's bat.
They still needed a new Chaser though, and it was thus with a heavy heart that Albus retreated to the Common Room on Tuesday, instructed by Scorpius to pin the notice that he'd made to the bulletin board, offering tryouts to anyone who was interested in playing reserve Chaser. As he was quick to return from his classes, he found the Common Room nearly empty, a pleasant sight considering that he couldn't deal with nasty expressions along with everything else bothering him. What he saw on the bulletin board, however, distracted him from this thought entirely.
Pinning the notice in the corner, he saw a much larger, fancier sheet of paper pinned. Right away he identified its nature. At the top of it was the famed wand-sword emblem of WAR.
The Protector's Club
Do you have loved ones to worry about in these dangerous times? Are you concerned with the apparent lack of excess instruction in defending yourself-and others-against the Dark Arts? Are YOU prepared for an attack at any moment?
The Protector's Club is a club designed to help students take additional measures in defending themselves from the very real threats outside of the castle walls. The members of Wands and Redemption are here to provide you with instruction on what it takes to be a protector; someone who stands in the way of tyranny for the sake of others, and does it to spectacular results!
Students of fourth year and up are permitted to join us in the Great Hall on Wednesday night, at approximately eight o'clock, if interested in joining the club and learning the magical skills necessary to be able to defend oneself and others expertly!
Albus stared at the sheet of paper, transfixed. A club for students...ran by Renegades? Students were shuffling themselves into the Common Room now, and as soon as they'd done so, Albus made a grab for Morrison and Scorpius.
"Look at this!" he hissed.
They both read it without asking any questions, wearing different expressions entirely as they did so. Morrison looked lax and uncaring, while Scorpius appeared to have caught on more.
"That's pretty suspicious" he said. "Aren't they supposed to be here playing guardian to us? So why have us do it ourselves?"
"It's just a club" Morrison said simply. "Nothing ever happens in clubs, within two sessions they'll be discussing their favorite romance novels."
And with that, he merged back into the crowd to find Melonie. Standing near the bulletin board was attracting a considerable amount of attention, and Albus and Scorpius were forced to move out of the way and into a corner to continue their discussion. Already he could hear people talking about the Protector's Club, many of them in voices of powerful enthusiasm.
"Do you reckon this is in every house?" Albus asked.
"Probably" Scorpius said. "Wouldn't make sense to have them just call out Slytherins, especially with our alleged reputations, right?"
"If it's this big here I wonder what's going on in the other Common Rooms" Albus said, more to himself than Scorpius.
He would not see Mirra until later in the week, unless of course he found a way to tell her to meet him in the library tomorrow, before dinner and the first session of the Club.
"Do you think that you could pass along a message to Mirra for me when you see her during patrols?" Albus asked Scorpius tensely.
Scorpius agreed to do so, and though he came back rather late, he told Albus that his library meeting with Mirra was set. The Great Hall was a buzz early the next morning, providing Albus with enough evidence to suggest that the entire school did indeed see the same bulletin post. He breezed his way through his morning Defence Against the Dark Arts class, and then again in the afternoon's Herbology, where his lack of attention caused him to suffer a slight laceration from a Crunching Cabbage.
Concealing the injury to not divert Mirra's attention this time, he met her in the library after classes looking winded.
"Fun day?" she said, her sheet of black hair all but covering her face as she stared straight down at her Potions book.
"Something like that" he said, tossing his bag aside and sitting down quickly.
She raised her eyes to him again, a more suspicious expression on her face.
"What's gotten into you?" she asked, something like a sardonic smile playing on her face.
Albus immediately cut to it. "Have you heard of this 'Protector's Club' thing?" he asked.
Mirra sighed and reclined back, looking somewhat disheartened. "I thought we were going to do some actual work" she said. "I still have no clue what I'm doing on that Potions essay-"
Albus pulled his bag over from the floor, rummaging through it at once.
"The one on Galpalott's third law?" he asked, sliding it over to her. "Here, just copy real quick-"
"Al!" she hissed, reclining back even further as if the sheet of parchment was toxic. "I'm not going to copy."
"Then skim" he said, somewhat agitated. He never got what issue people had with copying work. They were still learning as they copied, weren't they?
Mirra gave him a glare and didn't touch the paper. Still, she spoke up on the topic at hand.
"Yeah, I've heard of it" she said. "Kind of hard not to, the bulletins are up everywhere and everyone was on about it at breakfast..."
"Seems dodgy, right?" he asked.
Mirra gave an expression of bewilderment. "Not really. A little much, maybe, but that's it-"
"It's a club created by Renegades!" Albus practically shouted. "You know that they're going to be up to no good in there! I have half a mind to go to McGonagall!"
Mirra gave a warming look, as though he was making a bigger deal out of it than necessary. "Al, they're hosting this club in the Great Hall. And almost right after dinner, at that? Don't you think that the Headmistress knows about it? And she'll probably be there too...I know what it is you have against WAR, I don't like them either, but they can't just take over the school in a few weeks, Al."
Albus strongly doubted this last part, though admittedly, the idea of the Headmistress being alerted to the matter did soothe him somewhat. Either way, he still had more pressing questions.
"Are you going?" he asked nervously.
"No" she said at once, and Albus felt his heart lift. "I've got too much work to do and it seems a little unnecessary anyway. I think it's really just designed for those younger students who are worried and want to be sped up a bit in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I personally think that it's a little offensive to Professor Handit, but that's a different matter entirely."
"Do you know anyone who is going?" Albus asked.
"Rose definitely isn't" she said matter-of-factly. "Charlie isn't either...Donny, maybe, he didn't give an answer. Those were the only people I was with when we spoke about it like that..."
"I see" Albus said, a scenario playing through his head. Mirra could alleviate his feelings on the matter, but she could not eradicate them. He wanted someone to be there to give him the scoop; to fill him in on exactly what was happening at this little get together...
"Why don't you just go?" Mirra said from across the table, as though she'd read his mind.
"Me?" Albus asked incredulously. "I don't want to go to that thing, I have no intention-"
"You want to find out what's going on, right?" Mirra asked. "That's why you want me to find a way to get information back to you? Just go yourself."
Albus gave a small smile, unaware that she'd be able to see through him so easily. He supposed that's what being in a relationship for so long did though; it essentially made you an open book to your partner.
"I don't want to be seen at that though" Albus admitted dismissively. "With the reputation my family's got now? I'm better off staying far away. First thing that they'll do is probably talk about 'what to do when a Potter attacks'."
"Then don't be seen" Mirra said coyly, and Albus, who raised his eyebrows for a fraction of a second, quickly reclined back in his own chair.
His Invisibility Cloak. He could use it, and probably very effectively too...
"Wait a minute" Albus said, folding his hands over as though he were giving an interview. "Are you-little miss Prefect-giving me permission to break the rules?"
"No" Mirra said bluntly. "I'm acknowledging that if you did, I couldn't possibly stop you. I couldn't even see you."
Albus smiled. "You really are perfect, you know that, right?" he said, standing up and going over to her to kiss her on the cheek before he left. He went to snatch the essayback up, but his hand was slapped away.
"Leave it" she said darkly.
Albus divulged his plan to Morrison and Scorpius at dinner, but by the time that they'd retreated to the Common Room, both of them had voiced their opposition to it. Scorpius, like Mirra, was much more interested in getting caught up on homework, and Morrison easily declared that the two of them wouldn't fit under the Invisibility Cloak anyway.
"But you wouldn't have to!" Albus pointed out. "It's just me that gets the negative attention!"
"I'm guilty through association, mate" Morrison told him pointedly. "Everyone knows me as Albus Potter's attractive, charming, and funny friend" he added, shaking his head as though he were cursed. Scorpius gave him a patronizing look.
"Don't fret!" Morrison said quickly. "You're the smart one!"
Albus was eventually forced to make amends with the fact that it would be a solo mission, and so, with the minutes tinkering down to eight o' clock, he retreated to his dormitory to rifle through his trunk. He located the Cloak at once, letting the sleek, silver cloth flow through his hands majestically. This Cloak had once been his father's. This made him squirm a little bit. For a wild moment, he wondered if it would still work, given his father's location, before realizing that from a magical standpoint, it didn't really matter where his father was.
He felt even stranger looking into his trunk before closing it, where a faint blue glow could be seen. Without even reaching in he identified it as Fairhart's silver ring-not that it had been intended for himself, of course. No, the history of this ring he still hadn't quite put together, though he was at least aware that the name engraved on it-Sam-belonged to a woman, not a man, as he'd originally thought.
A thought blew up in his head. He had made a promise to himself that he would return this ring to his former professor, should he ever be identified as alive. Now, even with that confirmation, he was not sure what he'd do. No, if he ever came across Sancticus Fairhart again...this ring would be the last thing on his mind.
He headed downstairs under the Cloak, pleasantly surprised to see that not too many people had left the Common Room. He supposed that this was rooted in the house itself, however. Slytherins would be the least likely to attend a club meeting held by members of WAR. A powerful sense of irony resonated with him here. Many of his housemates probably had some sort of connection to someone who had been on the losing side of the last war. This same connection was keeping them away from WAR-and ultimately, in Albus' opinion at least, keeping them safer.
He waitedfor someone to enter before sliding himself through the blank stretch of wall, and in no time he was just outside the doors of the Great Hall, which were slightly opened to allow entrance. He stepped through and made a reluctant noise of interest.
The four tables now lined the walls, leaving a tremendous amount of space that Albus had never noticed before. There was about as many students in there as he expected, all of them standing in groups and chatting idly. As he'd expected, Gryffindor was by far the most represented house, though Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff weren't far behind at all. There were scattered Slytherins, but they were mostly younger,as were, Albus noticed, the majority of the hall as a whole. Perhaps Mirra and Scorpius were not alone in considering the club a waste of proper studying time. This cheered him up a bit.
Still, he did see a few familiar faces from his own year. Charles Eckley did not appear to be in attendance, as Mirra had said, but Donovan Hornsbrook was. There was something of a hardened look to his face that took Albus aback momentarily. Then, he noticed that Hornsbrook was accompanied by two other Gryffindors-the same two that had been harassing Roxanne that day in the library.
He looked around for signs of adults; either the Headmistress, or at least a professor or two, but was stunned to find all of them absent from the gathering. The only adults there were the black robed WAR members.
Albus stayed still, though he knew that there was no reason for this, as it was unlikely he'd be bumped into anyway. He simply waited for things to get organized, eventually jumping slightly when the massive doors to the Great Hall were slammed behind him, creating a powerful silence throughout the group.
There were six Renegades there, fewer than Albus had expected, but still a foreboding bunch. He recognized one of them as the elderly looking one who had been waiting outside of Scorpius' father's office that one day. The one who was standing straight and leading the pack had oily black, short hair tied back into the tiniest of ponytails, and a smudge shaped mustache of an identical color. His beady eyes sifted over the hall, and Albus felt a chill go up his spine. Something was definitely not right about this club.
"Line up, all of you" the man with the oily hair said briskly; his voice was smooth and curt.
They all did so, looks of intrigue and excitement on some faces, confusion and intimidation on others. Albus remained where he was, rooted on the spot, completely invisible. The man began walking back and forth as though a general addressing his troops. Albus gave a silent sneer; he'd seen Waddlesworth do this before.
"This is the Protector's Club" he said. "But you all know that, that's why you're here. My name is Larson, and I will be instructing you all."
Many of those in the line stood up a little straighter from the way that he was addressing them. For a moment they exchanged glances with one another, but their attention was returned to Larson immediately once he started speaking again.
"We've been assigned here to protect you" Larson said. "And we will, because that's what Wands and Redemption does; we protect the people. But more importantly, we help the people protect themselves. You're all at the age where you understand full well what goes on outside these walls. And whether it's this year, or next year, or the year after that, you may very well be entering a world that isn't going to be barricaded by magical walls, and surrounded by peers" he said, holding up his hands to indicate the castle itself. "No, when you leave here," he continued, "you're on your own."
Complete silence. Albus could see Hornsbrook smiling widely at what he was hearing. He'd undoubtedly heard this stuff before...his father was a member of WAR after all. He felt right at home here.
"Let's get one thing straight" Larson went on. "Your headmistress has allowed us this space to proceed with this club of ours, but she is not here. You are on your own here, and with our instruction, you can ultimately succeed in becoming a better wizard or witch, and thus, you can become more of an asset to those around you."
There was determination on the faces of those in the line now, and the rapid rate inwhich it had happenedwas somewhat unnerving. Everyone was suddenly very keen on becoming this super-powered wizard capable of defending their families that Larson was boasting about.
"Hornsbrook" Larson said sharply, and Donovan Hornsbrook steppedforward, looking confident and, to some degree, nervous.
Larson surveyed the rest of the line, walking back and forth slowly. "You there" he said after a moment.
A fourth year Hufflepuff girl emerged from the line, her large eyes looking perplexed underneath her large, circular spectacles. Larson positioned her so that she was directly across from Hornsbrook, who was about a foot or so taller than her. Albus tensed up slightly. Surely they weren't going to...?
"What's your name?" Larson asked her fiercely, and she winced as though his question had pierced her.
"Tilda" she said.
Larson turned away from her and back to the straight line. "The best defence is a good offense" he said aloud. "Once you've been attacked successfully, you've already lost. You must be prepared at all times, and you must be able to lash out an attack; you must apply pressure. Whether someone targets you first or not, you must be on the attack. At my say-so, I want you both to fire the most lethal spells that you can think of at one another. Do not even think of defending until your attack is through; your first priority is to eliminate quickly and efficiently."
Albus stared, appalled. Most lethal spell that they could think of? Hornsbrook was a sixth year...he would know some pretty dangerous spells. Spells designed for defence, of course, but this wasn't the case here. If Hornsbrook followed orders, he'd be assaulting someone.
"One" Larson started calling out harshly, and Tilda jumped, reaching into her robes for her wand; Hornsbrook had already withdrawn his.
"Two-"
Albus braced himself, in disbelief at what he was witnessing. Some of those in the straight line had their heads turned.
"Attack!"
There was only one blast of light, a stream of cerulean that issued from, predictably, Hornsbrook's wand. His opponent, not quick enough and told not to defend, had given a yelp and been knocked to the floor.
Larson patted Hornsbrook on the back. Tilda stood up, glasses broken, lip bleeding slightlyand cowering as well. Many of those in the rest of the congregation were wearing looks of discomfort. Others looked forcibly stoic. When Tilda was not addressed, she stepped back in line.
"First spell, immediate victory" Larson said, giving Hornsbrook a slight push to return him to the line as well, where he smirked proudly as his two friends gave him approving high fives.
"In real life, there are no volunteers" Larson said, scratching at his neck. "You're either targeted or you're not, and the protection of you and your loved ones must be a combination of preparation and improvisation. If anyone would like to volunteer now, however, step forward."
Albus watched as a seventh year Ravenclaw stepped forward.
"Name?" Larson asked.
"Leonard" the student replied, holding up his head to reveal a prominent chin.
"Be on your guard Leonard" Larson said, and he moved himself directly across from him, removing his wand.
"Count us down Rick" Larson said, and another of the WAR members stepped forward. Leonard gave an alarmed look.
"Wait, I'm facing you-"
"One" the WAR member known as Rick announced loudly.
Leonard plunged his own hands into his robes, scrambling frantically for his wand as well. Albus couldn't help but feel torn between who to root for; the student who had counted on bullying a younger one, or the WAR member making him pay for his volunteerism. He was sort of hoping that they'd knock each other out.
"Two-"
Larson moved forward before the count could be completed. Shouting something indiscernible, a fiery orange spell collided with the Ravenclaw, sending him to the floor at once, where he slid a few feet, groaning. There were a few gasps from those watching.
"If you noticed that I attacked prematurely," Larson stated, "then surely you noticed my victory. There is no countdown in an actual fight. Proper wizard's duels are relics of the past, you need to be prepared to initiate attack at the fastest available moment."
Albus cringed as these words, not understanding the psychology behind it. These weren't real attacks. They were designed for practice, weren't they? Then what good was attacking before practice could even commence? This entire first meeting was a travesty, and it made his blood boil.
"Take him away" Larson said coldly, and two of the WAR members, one of whom was the elderly one that Albus identified, scooped Leonard up and made to carry him out of the Hall. "Have Lester take care of him" Larson added as an afterthought.
Albus watched as the boy was removed from the Hall, the doors again closing with a thunderous sound.
"Any other volunteers?" Larson sneered aloud, and no one moved.
Take this Cloak off of us. Let's see where his cheap tactics get him against true power...
Albus scratched at the back of his neck as though he was trying to rid himself of the dark voice that had just sounded in his head. A strong wave of nostalgia overtook him, but before he could analyze what had just occurred, Larson had begun speaking again.
"For those of you curious" he said, pacing once more, "that was the Blasting Charm that you saw. Not as widely destructive as its neighbor, the Blasting Curse, this spell is more concentrated; designed for single targets. In most cases...it will cause powerful physical damage. We'll be learning that right now..."
The rest of the "club" meeting seemed to be dedicated to Larson showing powerful defensive spells in an extremely offensive light. These demonstrations were meant to be followed closely, as the students were all guaranteed that they were effective spells, and were thus told to use them in later practice sessions. Albus didn't move for quite some time, instead watching from a distance as the group of students listened with rapt attention, some of them-for some reason-playing with their hands as though eager to get started on attacking their housemates.
"We have time for one more contest" Larson announced suddenly. "Let's have two volunteers up here now..."
The first to step forward was a Slytherin fourth year that Albus vaguely recognized. They'd never spoken, but Albus knew him to be among the more tamer in the house. He had bushy eyebrows and pale, blotchy skin. The person who removed himself from the line to face him Albus recognized very well, however. In fact, it made him gasp.
It was Hugo. Tuft of red hair and a look of mingled confidence and insecurity on his face, he stepped forward across from the Slytheirn in the same year, wand already at his side.
Albus mouthed wordlessly, dangerously close to removing his Cloak and running forward, snatching Hugo up and yelling at the entire group. But then he realized that Hugo had come here of his own accord. And even now...he was volunteering.
But still, it was Hugo. Hugo wouldn't hurt a fly. Albus calmed himself momentarily, sure that his younger cousin would back out. He then started to panic; what if the other student didn't?
"One-"
The word had barely been uttered before Hugo lunged forward with a growl, uncharacteristically roaring the word "Reducto!"
The boy in Albus' house flew backwards from the jinx, completely unprepared, while a group near the end of the line applauded. Larson looked down at Hugo with an approving grin.
"What's your name?"
"Hugo Weasley" Hugo replied with dignity, a smile stretched across his face. His opponent was laying gasping on the floor, unattended to.
"Weasley eh?" Larson repeated, but he merely continued to smile. "Well done" he said, and Hugo walked back into the line.
Albus felt sweat pouring down his face. In some ways, watching Hugo act so coldly had been worse than if he'd seen him get hurt. When had this drastic transformation started? Since when was Hugo so obsessed with protection, that he needed this kind of tutelage?
"Dismissed, all of you" Larson announced. "For those of you persistent enough to want to hone your skills...same time, next Monday."
They all shuffled out, Albus turning to the side to avoid collision, his legs feeling like jelly at what he'd just seen. Hugo walked directly by his older cousin, unaware of his presence, and Albus saw him high-fiving fourth year companions as he did so, wearing, just as Hornsbrook had when receiving congratulations from his mates, a proud expression on his face.
