Chapter 11 – The Squib of Fate


When they Apparated back, Lily immediately noticed they were not back at the Ministry, but a desolate empty field. Off to the side, Aunt Hermione was whispering to her uncle. Their whispers became increasingly agitated. A sudden flare of emotion filled her – she suspected what they were talking about… and what they would ask of her.

She tried to keep the anger out of her face, smiling awkwardly. Aunt Hermione walked over to her, a grim look on her face. "Now Lily, I need to ask you—"

"—not to tell anyone about what we uncovered," Lily said, her voice more resigned than upset.

Her aunt bit her lip, and nodded. "We don't want to start a panic among the wizarding population."

Lily decided she would try to appeal to her aunt with reasoned arguments. "Do you think the desire to prevent panic outweighs the value of telling the people what they're up against?"

"They already know this 'Nihilo' character has learned how to rob a witch of her magical powers. They don't know that there is no magical defense to this." Her aunt's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, how do you think witches and wizards will react to that information?"

Not well. "And I suppose we don't want Nihilo to know we're on his tail," Lily said with a sudden burst of insight.

Aunt Hermione smiled. "Indeed. As I'm sure your father told you, Dumbledore's ability to keep his actions against Voldemort hidden for as long as he did was a major reason we were able to defeat him—though Harry deserves most of the credit, of course."

Lily knew just enough of the story to know she was telling the truth. Alright, I'll let her win this time. "So what are you going to do? Do you trust me enough to tell me that?"

Lily's retort didn't faze her. Instead, she said calmly: "We will investigate, try to understand what we're up against."

"We don't have much time, less than a week," Lily said nervously.

"I know. Lily, but I promise you the top minds at the Ministry will be on it immediately. In the mean time, will you do me a favor?"

"Of course. What?"

"You've done all you can to help us unravel part of the mystery." She suddenly smiled. "I know you don't want to stop, and I will not ask you to do so. You may continue to follow up on the investigation into what we found at Slytherin's Tomb." Her aunt paused. "But I think it would be prudent of you, that you refrain from investigating any other part of the mystery."

Lily tried to process her aunt's unusual request. Another part of the mystery? What could that be? Then it hit her clean. "You want me to stay out of investigating Nihilo himself."

Now her aunt nodded. "That is too dangerous a task; please, leave that to the Ministry."

"Are you sure? I think—"

"Lily, I've already put you in greater jeopardy than I had any right to ask of you." Her voice was suddenly strong with emotion, and her eyes seemed moist. "You're like another daughter to me, and if something were to happen to you, I could never forgive myself, for what that would do to your grandparents, to Harry, to Ginny…" She reached out and touched her cheek.

Something caught in the back of Lily's throat. "Alright, alright, I agree!" she said quickly, desperately trying to prevent any more emotional burdens from piling up.

"Thank you, Lily. I'll let you know about ongoing events. In the meantime, your word?"

"My word."

"Excellent. Ronald, let us go." Without another word they Disapparated, leaving Lily alone… and suddenly feeling very foolish!

She played me! Her very clever aunt had tricked her into promising to continue following up the investigation of the artisan's blood, instead of the more-pressing issue of who was behind the attacks. But that blood is anti-magical, it resists magic. So what more could Ministry witches and wizards learn? Nothing! It was a dead end!

Sighing angrily, Lily kicked at the ground in frustration. The reporter side of her was tempted to ignore the bargain immediately, but she had given her word as a Potter. Next time, do not refuse to leave any stone unturned.


In the six days that followed, Lily was busy doing what every other reporter was: finding an investigatory angle into what some voices were calling 'the greatest crisis ever to face the wizarding world.' For her part, she blanched at the Quibbler's sensationalism. Wasn't there a certain Lord Voldemort not so long ago? Trouble was, You-Know-Who was what her editor called 'yesterday's news'.

Lily had discretely inquired into the Ministry's efforts, but to her growing surprise no one seemed to have any idea that there was evidence to investigate regarding the nature of the anti-magic weapon used by Nihilo. Aunt Hermione said that the top minds in the wizarding world would investigate, but it seems nothing is happening. She had even asked Professor Longbottom, and got a candid answer that he had heard nothing. I wonder if she would be upset if I really investigated the Ministry's investigation, Lily mused. In the end, though, she decided to give her aunt and the Ministry the benefit of the doubt.

Instead, the main story she decided to pursue for now was people's reactions to the new crisis, a topic Albertsworth heartily approved of. Her real interest was wizard attitudes to the purebloods who apparently were the target of Nihilo's wrath. It had proven very difficult to get their reactions to their tormenter; even though it was thirty years since the time of the Dark One, the taint of their class's wholesale support for his goals existed to this day. When she asked the Malfoys about their reaction to the crisis, Draco Malfoy had nearly cursed her, but at the last second merely asked her to leave and never return.

The reaction of other wizards and non-wizards was also very interesting. The attitudes of the goblins she managed to talk to were quite mixed; many had very little sympathy for purebloods, and others had pointedly told her that because Nihilo appeared to be a nonwizard himself, that eventually a backlash would develop against creatures like themselves or the house elves. To her dismay, some wizards expressed just that opinion to her: 'the purebloods were the ones who supported the Dark Lord, and now they're taking it out on all wizards!' Lily decided not to write about these opinions in detail. At this time, we have to be united, and not let the past divide us. A breach of her journalistic ethos, probably, but she was no longer naïve enough to believe that her perspective in the matter was limited only to the reporting aspect.

Who is Nihilo? Lily was fascinated by the question, and despite her aunt's request and her own promise, she discretely researched the issue. The sum total of modern day literature on Great Elves would hardly fill a bookshelf, and much of that was merely retellings of the oldest of oral stories, even folk tales. 'Long ago, when the Great Elves walked the world with man, they taught wizards the secrets of Magic…' Most of them began in that way, but what was intriguing was how different the endings were. Some of the tales said Great Elves and wizards fought a terrible war, and were utterly slaughtered in defeat; others say they were magically enslaved, and that their defeated, humiliated descendants were none other than the House Elves themselves. Merlin's beard, I hope that's not true! Others simply said that they left, either weary of their squabbles with wizards, or perhaps seeking new realms to explore, entrusting that wizards could now exercise dominion over the world. That one's probably wrong, Lily thought sourly.

A troubling recollection preoccupied Lily: Damath's tale mentioned that the artisan met some 'nonhuman' figure, who gave him his powers to destroy magic. Did the Great Elves have that ability? Could they have destroyed themselves with it? Every account stated that Great Elves had not been seen for many thousands of years, not since the very beginnings of wizarding society. So if Nihilo is a Great Elf, where did he come from? Was his presence a sign that the Great Elves were returning? Or perhaps, was Nihilo once a House Elf, who learned of his (possible) heritage, and somehow transformed himself back into his original form—and vowed to seek vengeance on the wizards who enslaved his race? That possibility made Lily shiver. Wizards have mistreated House Elves, as my dad and aunt have reminded me. Are we now being forced to drink a noxious potion of our own brewing? After considering the argument, Lily totally rejected the idea that Nihilo was somehow justified in his actions, but the idea continued to trouble her. My dad told me about the sacrifice of Dobby the House Elf he had freed. Could other House Elves still be angry at the death of him at the hands of wizards? Maybe the other House Elf he knew, Creature I think his name was. And she vaguely remembered another House Elf, a female one, where something very bad happened with her, and her dad was involved somehow. Maybe she wanted revenge?

It was useless speculation in the end, but unavoidable nonetheless. And as Nihilo's deadline approached, she felt increasingly nervous about what would happen next.


At the end of the week, a nervous anticipation had descended on the entire wizarding world. Lily could see it build every day: fewer and fewer people about, and those who were seemed to be in an awful hurry. For her part, she tended to travel fully cloaked, so that no one would recognize her. It seemed such a trivial precaution, but she resolutely refused to hide in the shadows under the face of this unseen threat.

Huffing now, she hurried to get to the plaza outside the Ministry of Magic, where Minister Shacklebolt would soon make a public comment on the threat. As she approached the great open space, she noticed the extent of security precautions: giant trolls stood watch at every corner, unsmiling, towering over nervous wizards who quickly deigned to move out of their presence as fast as possible. In the air, Aurors patrolled in great numbers. A vast shimmering curtain surrounded the square, preventing Apparation and detecting any concealed magical items. People trying to enter were carefully searched as they approached. She was no different, being told to raise her arms and let the Probity Probes do their thing. Actually, it's a bit reassuring!

She was now inside the protected area of the plaza, amidst a crowd that was not quite as numerous as a week ago, but still considerable. Many were reporters like herself; others clearly showed worry on their faces. More than a few, she noted with dismay, had looks of anger, fury, and hatred; clearly they were hoping for news that would satiate their desires for punishment, for revenge.

Shacklebolt strode grimly to the podium, flanked by two Aurors. He wasted no time in pleasantries: in an amplified voice, he said: "Witches and wizards, a week ago the criminal Nihilo engaged in a heinous unprovoked attack against our fellow citizens. I assure you that they are now receiving the best care possible at St. Mungo's. No effort will be spared to find a cure for their affliction.

"As you know, Nihilo demanded that we slaughter or turn over to him innocent individuals merely on the basis of their blood background. I need not remind anyone here that such talk is but the mirror image of the Dark Lord's own twisted and evil visions, and we reject out of hand any notion that those who were the Dark Lord's followers have not received the full measure of wizard justice.

"I will only say this once: to Nihilo, you have until the end of the day to surrender yourself and submit to the judgment of the Ministry. If you do not, the Aurors will use whatever force is necessary to stop you. There will be no negotiations, no conditions. The terms are unalterable: surrender or be destroyed."

Lily could imagine these stern words echoing in every corner, every village of the wizarding world. There was no doubt Nihilo could hear his words, the only question was what the response would be. Shacklebolt paused for breath, then prepare to speak again—

—a shout came from across the plaza. Heads turned: Lily could see a figure, wearing a dark purple robe, inhuman: great slitted-pupil yellow eyes stared back, with batlike ears and sharp teeth. It was inside the field, but Lily had never seen it enter. Smiling, a magically-amplified voice it responded: "Experience the full measure of our response."

Several Aurors flying over ahead fired Stunning spells at Nihilo. They had no effect. Lily was terrified: there was no way to stop him! If she stayed, she would be robbed of her magical ability or worse. As the other Aurors on the ground rushed to confront Nihilo she began to run; then there was another scream.

Lily jerked her head around; something Apparated onto the podium next to Shacklebolt. It was another Great Elf! Shacklebolt immediately sent a Killing Curse at the new threat. It vanished before even touching him. The Great Elf approached; before Shacklebolt could draw his wand, it seized him. There was a puff of red smoke, and suddenly he staggered. The Great Elf grinned like a shark, then faced the terrified crowd, holding Shacklebolt's arm in his grip.

"Minister Shacklebolt's term of office officially ends now," the Elf hissed; his voice sounded different, almost feminine. "On account that he is no longer a wizard!"

There were screams of terror. "So be it Wizards. The crimes of the pureblood become the crimes of all. You shall be punished accordingly. This is the word of Nihila." Suddenly she vanished, as did Nihilo.

Other witches and wizards began crowding around Shackelbolt, who was struggling feebly. Lily stood in place, still trying to process the terrible events that had just happened.

"Lily!" She jerked her head; someone from above called out her name. Looking up, she saw her father, perched on a broom – he had been one of the Aurors patrolling overhead.

"Dad!" Having gotten her attention, he flew slowly off towards a clearing. She followed as best as she could, against the tide of wizards who rushed forward to see Shacklebolt.

They embraced fiercely, but his look was furious: "What are you doing here?"

"My job," she said just as fiercely. "Dad, I know how Nihilo's anti-magic power works—"

"Leave that to us," he said crossly.

"I'm too deeply involved, now, you can't shut me out, you need me!"

Suddenly he grinned. "I do need you, but not in that way."

Lily was simultaneously furious and terrified. It made her response that much more vigorous: "I have a connection to this, not just through you. I've been a help! Use me, or we will all end up like poor Kingsley over there!" She pointed brutally in his direction.

Her father stared at her, his face hard yet concerned. "Whatever you do, be careful. I have to go." He ran towards Shackelbolt. I think Dad has given me an invitation to be involved, but prudently. Lily raced to leave the plaza; she needed time to think of a plan.


For the first time in a long time, Lily intentionally avoided looking or listening to at any other news media. Even with her own paper, she studiously ignored the increasingly-sensationalist headlines, which were tame compared to others she had the misfortune to hear of: "'Wizards Meet Their Match!' 'Revenge of the Muggles?' 'Panic in Wizarding World Grows: Is There No Escape?'"

That this was an unprecedented crisis was brought home to her by her boss's reaction. When she asked him what assignment she should take on, he listlessly said, "Whatever. It may not matter now." He was nervous yet resigned, a curious reaction from such a confident wizard. He came in to work less and less often, and with no guidance from the top, the different departments began to do their own thing. Perhaps this was not a unique occurrence: even once-reputable papers like the Daily Prophet were printing more and more outlandish stuff.

What had been a trickle became a torrent: wizards and witches were fleeing the cities and towns, heading to the woods and hills, hoping to find some shelter from whatever this threat was. Lily had no illusions on that score: wherever a wizard could go, another could follow, especially one who could undo magic. But it was strange to see Diagon Alley virtually deserted; only a handful of witches and wizards were about, and they were positively running to get where they wanted.

Her mother and father had gotten into an ill-disguised shouting match about whether the children should be allowed to go out and about. 'Children'? Hello! We're of age, or did you forget? Lily sighed; no doubt, parents would always see their children as little ones to be protected, no matter what. In the end, nothing happened. For once, though, their concern became touching rather than exasperating. Too bad it took a crisis like this to bring it on!

Lily was reading a scroll just delivered by owl from Rose. It was not encouraging reading:

we've been doing everything we can to treat Shacklebolt, but none of our treatments seem to work, not even the most simplest of magical cures. Aside from his new condition (Lily started at her cousin's euphemism of what had happened to Kingsley) he seems to be okay, although more afflicted with elderly infirmities. One of the Healers has hypothesized that since whatever happened to him robbed him of his magicality, magical remedies would no longer work on him, so we are bringing in some Muggle 'doctors', I believe they're called, to assist. I'm skeptical, but it's all we've got for now.

Be careful Ferret!

Love,
Rose

Okay, that's that. Now for new business—or actually, old business. Lily got up and headed for the door. She Apparated to the Ministry, then made a beeline for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.


"I'm very busy, Lily, so please be brief—"

"What happened to the blood we found?"

"It's being investigated, of course."

"But it's not!" Her aunt looked at her blandly. "I've asked around the Ministry, no one seems to be working on it. What's going on?" She tried hard to keep the concern from her voice.

Her aunt smiled. "You're right, no one at the Ministry is working on it." Before Lily could give her outraged reply, she held up her hand. "Our experience at the tomb convinced me that whatever we were up against, magical inquiry might not be sufficient. After a short inquiry, my other colleagues agreed. So the blood is now being investigated by… another school of experts."

"Who?"

"Muggles."

Of all the answers to her question that was the last thing she expected. "Muggles? How could they possibly be of any help to us in this situation?"

Her aunt raised an eyebrow; Lily knew that to be an implicit gesture of reproach. "You may be surprised by what Muggles can do. I should know, once being one myself," she said bemusedly.

Heatedly, Lily objected: "Aunt Hermione, you may be Muggle-born, but you were never one of them!"

"Not anymore," she said, the sadness in her voice unmistakable. "But that's neither here nor there. I sent the blood to a Muggle investigator—a 'scientist' as they're called. He may be of some use yet."

"But Muggles can't do—er, don't believe in magic," Lily said, repeating the standard wizard view. "How can they be any help?"

"I don't know yet, but we have to try. And it should be noted their investigator has… a unique view of things. One might say he has a foot in both worlds."

Lily was utterly confused by her words. Perhaps sensing that, her aunt continued: "His name is Martin Andrews, and he's currently at a Muggle school called Oxford. I think it would be a good idea for you to meet him. What do you think?"

An uncomfortable thrill filled her: to her knowledge, Lily had never interacted with a Muggle before. "Okay," she said hesitantly.

Her aunt laughed. "Don't worry, Lily, they don't bite!" Looking at her reaction, she said more seriously. "They are, after all, human just like we are. They have a stake in this, and hopefully they can help. Here is his address." A small card flew into her hands. "You might want to wear Muggle attire when you meet him. Good luck, Lily!"

Taking her words as a dismissal, she said "Thank you, aunt Hermione. Good bye."


Still itching in the unfamiliar blue jeans, making her way on clumsy footware her mother called 'trainers', Lily walked across the campus of Oxford School—or, 'University' as they called it. She found the architecture surprisingly familiar, a far cry from the harsh geometric shapes of modern Muggle buildings. Entering the building whose name was on the card, there was a woman at a desk. "Can I help you, madam?" she asked.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Yes, I'm looking for a Martin Andrews. He's been expecting me."

"What's your name?"

"Lily Potter."

"Lily Potter," the woman repeated. Looking at a pad of paper, she said: "Ah, yes, his 2 o'clock appointment. I'll let him know you're here." She took up a strange but familiar device, one which her grandfather had showed her once—a fellytone. After a while she put it down and said, "Professor Andrews doesn't appear to be in his office, perhaps he's in the lab. Would you like to see if he's there?"

"Yes, please."

"His laboratory is in the basement, three floors down. Go down the hall and make a left, the elevators are there."

"Thank you." Lily went deeper inside the Muggle complex. She came to the elevators, then hesitated: her distrust of Muggles extended to their substitute for magic, or 'technology' as her aunt called it. To her relief, there was a set of stairs.

She went down to the basement, then looked for signs for this 'laboratory', whatever that meant. It was to her left. After walking some time, she came to a door:

Physical and Theoretical Chemistry Laboratory – Addison Wing
All Personnel Must Wear Goggles!

She tried to open the door, and found it was unlocked. Tentatively, she stepped inside. There was a bewildering array of unfamiliar things, but in a vague sense she was reminded of the Potions classroom at Hogwarts. Indeed, at one of the tables, sitting in front of a clear glass cauldron filled with smoking liquids, was a man who could only be Martin Andrews.

"Professor Anderson?" she called out.

"Yes, that's me. Are you Lily Potter? Pleased to meet you!" He got off his stool and came over to her. He was a short man, shorter than her, with sandy-brown hair and eyes. Assuming Muggles aged like wizards, he was perhaps a little older than her brother James, late twenties or so. There was a pleasant smile on his face.

"Thank you, Professor," she replied, unable to keep from staring in fascination. A Muggle, live and in person!

"I guess you're wondering what a Muggle like me has to do with the wizarding world," he began. She merely nodded, not speaking out of surprise to his accurate assessment. "Well, first, I should say, I'm not quite a Muggle; I'm a Squib."

"Oh! I—see," she said, catching herself before she said what she originally intended, which was 'Sorry'.

The smile faded, but only a bit. "My parents were witches and wizards, so I'm told… I guess it's better this way, having Squibs be part of a world that accepts them, rather than one that never would. I was adopted into a Muggle family not long after I was born." His voice was somewhat distant; not angry, but perhaps regretful?

Lily was saddened by the words; although she reluctantly agreed with the ideas behind the policy, when confronted with it in person, it didn't feel so right; it almost felt like an injustice. Put that aside; to business. But there was still one personal question she wanted to know: "So how did you reconnect to the magical world?"

Now he smiled. "Good question! A while ago, not long after I graduated from university, a wizard contacted me; it was quite a shock to finally learn the truth! He asked if I wanted to be part of a Muggle-Wizard cooperation team. I agreed. My job has been to try to understand the magical world from a scientific perspective. It hasn't been easy, let me tell you!" He laughed again, the genuineness of his humor and good-nature fast-becoming appealing to her.

"I… I don't quite understand," she confessed.

"I don't entirely understand either—magic, that is—but more of that later. Right now we have an urgent matter to deal with, yes?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I am actually just a reporter for the… wizarding news services. I've been… allowed to investigate what the Ministry is doing regarding this problem."

"Indeed, very interesting! Our worlds aren't so different after all. Except for that magic thing, of course."

Of course, magic isn't just a little thingor is it? As she pondered the real significance of their differences, he gestured to her. "Come over here, you'll find this interesting."

She did, and now she was standing next to him by his worktable. There was a clear dish filled with slightly reddish water in front of him.

"This is an extract of that blood sample the Ministry sent me, diluted in some water." Abruptly he placed his finger in it.

"No!" Lily cried. He grinned.

"Don't worry; remember, I'm a Squib," he said easily. "I've tested this blood solution on numerous creatures in our world, and it has no effect on the non-magical."

"But magical individuals…"

"See, that's the thing, it doesn't affect them either!"

"What? But I saw it happen, whenever that blood came in contact with something magical, it destroyed it!"

"Yes, but curious what happens now." He scooped up some of the water in a clear flask, then said: "Follow me." She did so, and they went into a locked room, which was filled with boxes and covered containers.

"Come here, you're probably more familiar with what's in this room than I." They went to a large covered tank. When he removed the tarp, she gasped at the small creature swimming around inside.

"That's a kappa!" she said, instantly remembering from her third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"Indeed. As a magical creature, if this blood was still active, pouring it into the tank will kill it or worse. Watch what happens." Before Lily could object, he poured a few drops inside. There was no effect; the kappa merely continued to swim, angry, bearing its teeth at them when they approached the side of the glass.

"I don't understand, why is it not working?"

"I have a theory. The wizards from the Ministry told me what this blood's effects were, and gave me these magical creatures to experiment on. Yet as soon as I tested it on a magical subject, it had no effect. I couldn't understand, but not long before you arrived, I finally had an idea." He paused. "Would you object if we killed this creature in the name of researching this blood?"

Lily flinched at the brutal honesty of the words. "It's for a good cause, to save the wizarding world," he began.

Lily hesitated. "Well… kappas are considered dangerous pests… I suppose it won't hurt."

"Good. This is where I need your help especially." Lily was startled. Grinning, he said: "I need you to make this solution magical."

"What? How do I do that?"

"I don't know, you're the witch." Smiling, he was silent for a while. "You have your wand with you, yes?" She nodded. "Do you know any spell which can make something, I don't know, stronger, more potent? Anything that will magically transform this blood in some way, although not alter it completely. If you know of a such a spell, cast it on this solution, and we'll see what happens."

Lily was amazed at what she had to do, but quickly cast all doubt from her mind. Make something stronger… "Maybe this one." Martin quickly put the flask on the table and stepped back. Lily took out her wand, pointed it at the solution and said, "Rennervate". The solution bubbled a bit, but otherwise nothing else happened.

Martin's eyes widened, but he said nothing. Carefully, he picked up the flask, then poured a few drops in. For a moment nothing happened, then suddenly the kappa screeched. Flailing wildly, it seemed to disintegrate. Vanishing behind a dark cloud, all motion ceased, and when it cleared, only unknown chunks of grey powder drifted down to the floor of the tank.

Martin was overjoyed, clapping his hands; Lily meanwhile stared in shock. "Just as I suspected! When in the presence of magic, this blood reacts and removes the magical-nature of anything it comes into contact with. But when it's beyond any magical influence, it reverts back to what it normally is—mere blood."

"But… but… isn't that a contradiction? How can something be magical and anti-magical at the same time?"

"Another good question." They left the room; he locked it behind himself, then they sat at the table. "Let's think this through logically. I know that in general, magical acts work on and in the non-magical world. Right?"

Greatly daring, she pointed her wand at a stack of papers, which made them turn into paper airplanes. They flew about the room, then with another flick of her wand she made them go back into the pile, as if they were never touched.

"Isn't there a Wizard law against that?" he said wolfishly.

Lily pouted in innocent protestation, like she often did with her parents. "I won't tell if you don't."

Martin's eyes sparkled. "Agreed! Now, in certain circumstances, I would also hypothesize the non-magical can affect the magical. But I—and I'm sure, you—have never heard of something from the non-magical world completely negating the powers of magic. Therefore, whatever this is," he held up the flask, "it was probably created by magic."

"But there's no known magic that can do this; none that I know of, at least," she said, shuddering at the memory of the plaza and what happened to Shacklebolt.

"Really, I thought magic could do anything," he said softly. Martin shook his head. "I mean, there's so much you can do in the magical world that you can't do in the real world—er, my world," he added apologetically.

Lily nodded, deep in thought. "So how did Voldemort make it into a weapon?" she asked herself.

"Excuse me?"

Lily took a deep breath. I hope I'm not violating any secrecy laws now. But if I am, the circumstances justify it; perhaps Martin here can come up with a solution. "We think originally… another magical being turned a…non-magical person's blood into this. It allowed him to withstand any magical spells cast on him, and when he came into physical contact with someone, rob them of their magical powers." Martin nodded, his eyes rapt in attention. Lily continued: "We found this blood buried in a magical grave, more than a thousand years later. It was still potent, resistant to any magical spell cast on it. But we were not the first; someone else discovered it, years earlier. If what you're saying is correct, this person—his name was Voldemort, he was a very dangerous wizard—could not have used magic to work with it, because any use of magic on it would not only not be effective, but make it dangerous for any witch or wizard to even touch." She paused. "This was also a long time ago, more than thirty years, maybe more than fifty. Maybe he never used it at all; history does not have any records of Voldemort having or using this stuff. Unfortunately, it appears another person has come across this grave, took the blood, and is using it to attack the wizarding world. What we need is something to counter it."

Martin nodded again in understanding. "Nothing magical will resist this, but I think I may have the answer: if you use non-magical methods, this substance will have no effect."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's try another experiment: can you conjure a flask for me?"

"Sure." Lily pointed her wand at the table, and a flask appeared out of nowhere.

Martin stared again. "How do you do that… anyway, watch what happens." He poured some of the blood solution into the conjured flask; just like back at Slytherin's Tomb, the flask disintegrated on contact, and the water spilled out on the table. Martin smiled. "Now, let's use my old coffee mug." He poured the solution into the mug; nothing happened to it.

Lily said: "I think I understand now: this blood won't work on anything non-magical." Thinking back, that was how her uncle's cloak could safely contain the blood through Apparation: it had been hand-knitted by her grandmother.

"Exactly. You can protect something from this blood using non-magical barriers. A wall, a pile of stone, things like that. But it has to be done without magic."

"What about wizards and witches? How would you be able to protect them?"

"That's a tougher issue. Let me work on it some more." He got up. "I need to get back to affairs in my world. It's been a pleasure, Lily. I hope we can see each other again."

"I agree; thank you, Martin! You've been a big help!"

"You're very welcome. Here, I'll show you the door." When they were outside, he came up to her and whispered. "One more time, can I see you do magic? I may be a scientist, and officially I don't believe in that stuff, but it's just so amazing what you can do…"

Lily nodded, suddenly wishing that there was a cure for Squibness. "If you're a Squib, technically you're not a Muggle. But we should be careful. Let's go over there…"

They went to a deserted part of campus, behind some trees. "I'm about to Apparate away - instantly transport myself from here to another location. Maybe someday later, I can show you my world just like you showed me yours."

Again he shook his head in wonderment. "Teleportation. It just might be scientifically possible, but for you witches it's just a matter of course." He seemed down, but brightened, perhaps out of deliberate effort. "Okay, off you go!"

"Good-bye Martin!" She raised her wand and with a flash he was gone; now she was back on Diagon Alley.


What a productive afternoon! Lily's spirits were suddenly brightened; suddenly, Nihilo and Nihilia didn't seem so invincible anymore. I've got to send an owl to the Ministry, let them know.

Lily went to a café and began writing furiously. As soon as she finished, she summoned an owl and sent it on her way. Right after she did so, a thunderbolt of a realization hit her: The Squib of Fate!

Damath had warned in a prophecy he heard from Slytherin himself, to beware someone called The Squib of Fate. They had failed to recover the prophecy, and as her aunt admonished her when she brought up the subject, 'Prophecies are never to be trusted or relied upon – our fate is in our hands, and if they aren't, act as if they are.' But everything Damath had said appeared to be true, and if he was worried about a future Squib who might be related to the power of the artisan to destroy magic…

Squib of Fate could mean anything. So Martin's a Squib, if he was working with Nihilo, he wouldn't have told me how to neutralize the artisan's blood. He's on our side, he has to be!

Lily tried to reassure herself with those words. But comfort was not soon coming. Instead, her mind came up with new and greater worries: Martin has the blood. He knows now how to make it work. Could he make more of it? Not magically, but were there Muggle ways to do it? Could he use it to wreak vengeance on wizards, since they abandoned him as a child—like the Dark One?

Suddenly Lily was ill with worry. Have I created The Squib of Fate-and doomed wizardry to extinction? An Owl would not be enough; she had to warn her Aunt immediately!