Chapter 25: Breeding Grounds
Albus felt his body go numb, his knees nearly buckling beneath him at what he was seeing. Fairhart too was eyeing the Chimaera intently, its giant, furry body heaving up and down in tune with its deep, heavy breaths. They both turned to face one another immediately, but it was Fairhart who spoke first, his voice so low that it was difficult for Albus to hear even with the Supersensory Charm placed on him.
"Don't move" he said out of the already thin corner of his mouth.
This was hardly advice, as Albus was fairly certain he couldn't move anyway. The sight of the beast in front of him was enough to paralyze him with fear, and the awful smell emanating from it was close to making him pass out. Slowly, he watched as Fairhart raised his wand and aimed it at the Chimaera.
"What are you doing!" Albus hissed stupidly, suddenly aware of what was going on.
"I'm going to kill it" Fairhart whispered back.
Albus felt a combination of emotions flood through him, confusion and intrigue among them.
"What with- with the Killing Curse?" he asked, his attention now back on the sleeping creature, one eye on the scaly green tale, the other on the feline head. When Fairhart nodded, he asked another question. "Will that even work?"
"In theory, the Killing Curse should kill anything" Fairhart mumbled, his wand still outstretched. "Creatures with powerful magical skin-like dragons- may be somewhat immune...but I can't imagine them surviving more than a few in rapid succession. Stand back now-"
"No!" Albus hissed again, and the Chimaera snorted in its sleep, causing him to cover his hands with his mouth in terror for a moment.
"What do you mean 'no'-"
"I mean- just- just go around it" Albus whined, unwilling to provoke the creature even in the slightest, and, strangely enough, also unwilling to kill something that wasn't currently posing a threat. "It- it's not hurting anyone" he added lamely.
Fairhart stared at him in disbelief, his wand extended. He looked as though he was waiting for a better answer.
"My- my- my girlfriend wants to be a Magizoologist?" Albus voiced in a whimper, and Fairhart actually rolled his eyes.
"Fine!" he spat, and the Chimaera gave another snort. "But if this thing ends up tearing us to shreds, I'm blaming her!"
Albus nodded in relief, then watched as Fairhart backed up slightly. Slowly, he began to walk in a circle around the slumbering beast, Albus following suit in mimicked movements. He kept his gaze on the Chimaera the entire time though, not speaking again until the sight of it was obscured by thick trees.
"Close one back there, eh?" he said, walking side by side with Fairhart now.
Fairhart said nothing, his legs apparently acting independently from his head. As he walked forward, ducking under branches and moving silently through undergrowth, he seemed to be extremely preoccupied by something.
Albus heaved a sigh. "What, are you mad at-"
"Greece" Fairhart cut him off swiftly.
"What?"
"Greece" he repeated. "I was thinking of where Chimaeras are native to. I believe it's Greece."
Albus stared up at him as they walked, and though his magically improved senses registered small noises, he made nothing of them; he was too curious as to what Fairhart was trying to get across.
"Okay" Albus said stiffly. "Erm- that's important because...?"
"Because we are not in Greece, Albus" Fairhart said, his pace slowing somewhat as he turned to face him. "And yet, a powerful, dangerous creature native to that land is here on this island. What does that tell you?"
Albus thought about it for a moment. "It tells me that...that the Chimaera we just saw wasn't always here?"
"Precisely" Fairhart answered him. "That creature is not part of this island naturally. It was placed here by the Ministry, probably as a security measure. I had always heard that Azkaban had more than enchantments around it, but it seems as though they've also found creatures adequately capable of replacing Dementors as well."
"But there can't be anything here worse than Chimaeras!" Albus practically yelled, panicked. He instinctively thought of what Fairhart had mentioned earlier: dragons.
"Well I have yet to have a confrontation with a Silhouette," Fairhart told him icily, "so I can hardly confirm whether or not they are more dangerous. As for the creatures you'd find in textbooks, however, I wouldn't be surprised if there are other, equally deadly ones on this island. Do not forget that the absence of Dementors here means that the Ministry has to consider the possibilities of a prisoner escaping out into the open. Typically, once they slipped by the Dementors, a prisoner would probably have a relatively easy departure ahead of them. Now, however, prisoners must think twice about even leaving Azkaban; the area surrounding it is just as foreboding, and not nearly as monitored."
"How did Darvy even get here?" Albus asked. "And take over Azkaban? I mean there's that storm, to start, whirlpool and all, and all these creatures and spells-"
"I don't imagine 'Death's Right Hand' having had to endure the same difficulties that we are now. Do not forget that he has Fango Wilde with him. Wilde's department at the Ministry would have given him considerable knowledge about the proper transportation on and off this island, including Apparition points, and, presumably, the Ministry trail itself. Darvy most likely only had to brave a fraction of what we are going through, and if he had even a few of those monsters prepared, it would not have been a very large struggle to storm the prison itself."
Albus looked up at Fairhart in confusion as he spoke, for his words were entering his ears in a muffled fashion, a faint buzzing accompanying them as well. The Supersensory Charm placed on him seemed to be aiding him somewhat here, but strangely, he couldn't pinpoint the nature or direction of the noise. He watched Fairhart's face to see if he had detected anything, but before he could even get a good look, the disfigured man next to him had already forced him down with a yell.
"What the-" Albus started, his face colliding with dirt and soil. He felt Fairhart drop to the ground next to him, and then, quite suddenly-
"Stay low Albus!" Fairhart growled from the ground.
Albus felt an intense heat overtake him. Though his eyes were smushed into the dirt, his peripheral vision allowed him to see dazzling shades of orange and red, his advanced hearing also serving to heighten his awareness of the roaring flames that appeared to be streaming just inches over his scalp.
He kept his body pressed as flat to the ground as possible, his eyes eventually jamming themselves shut tightly, all the thoughts in his head erased and replaced with a single idea. He could not raise himself up, not even an inch. If he did, he was sure the inferno would take him.
From behind his eyelids the glowing light of the flames danced, the heat now so powerful he felt as though his back was going to melt. He tried counting the seconds in his head, waiting for the flames to stop, and then a horrific thought entered his mind. What if they weren't going to?
No sooner had he thought this did the jets of fire cease, an eerie stillness entering the area. The warmth lingered, as did the smell of burnt vegetation, but embers were no longer visible from his eyelids, and this alone was enough for Albus to raise his head and stare at Fairhart, who was already standing.
Albus too rose to his feet, surveying his surroundings and swallowing dramatically. The air felt thicker, a residual effect of what had just occurred, he was sure, and the towering trees around them had been charred greatly, all of them now issuing smoke as though they'd been magically doused following the onslaught of flames.
"What- what the-" Albus started.
"Immolation Charm" Fairhart told him darkly. "And one used in a most crude fashion as well..."
Albus wiped at the soil covering the front of his shirt, shaking his head as he did so.
"This place is crazy" he spat out. "Chimaeras, whirlpools, fire randomly shooting at us-"
"There was nothing random about it" Fairhart said, holding out his hand and swiping it through the air as if he was trying to detect something. "We definitely set off an enchantment designed specifically to destroy whatever crossed over it. We'll both have to pay more attention next time."
Albus nodded, looking at one of the giant trees. Its charcoal color sent shivers down his spine; he wasn't eager to look similar.
"We should press on now" Fairhart said, snapping him from his thoughts. He looked up at the cloudy sky as he spoke. "It should start raining again soon" he said. "Like I said before, let's focus on finding shelter as we move. This way, now."
Albus followed after him dutifully, still somewhat shaken by what had just happened. Did Fairhart not realize that they'd both nearly just been burnt to a crisp? But his former professor didn't seem disturbed by this fact. Even as Albus looked at him, he detected a hint of exuberance in the half of his face that could create such expressions.
"What's up with you?" Albus asked him, jogging somewhat to keep up with his pace.
"Just pleased to know that I guessed right" he said.
"What?" Albus asked, and Fairhart came to a halt to explain.
"Do you know where we're going, Albus?" he asked.
"To- to Azkaban-"
"Yes, but have you noticed that we're not heading straight toward the prison? There's too many enchantments. We've been walking in more of a circular pattern."
"I've just kind of been following you" Albus said, somewhat ashamed. He'd never really bothered to guess how Fairhart's knew which way was correct. But they were both still alive, weren't they?
"Well I've been forced to make a few haphazard decisions since we've been here" Fairhart told him. "The second that I saw that Chimaera, for instance, I knew that we were close to the Ministry trail. Chimaeras are highly territorial. From wherever it started on the island, it won't have went far. When we arrived on this island, we weren't far from the safe trail at all. I simply had to guess in which direction it was. I guessed east."
"But we're heading-"
"West" Fairhart finished for him. "The opposite way. We are heading into powerful enchantments, like the ones that we just so narrowly survived."
"But we should be heading towards the Ministry trail!" Albus blurted out, horrified. "Why would we-"
"You are forgetting the nature of our occupancy here" Fairhart told him, a steely gaze on his face. "That 'safe' trail has already been compromised by the Dark Alliance. Whatever dangers we face out here, it is unlikely that we risk being discovered. The last thing that we want is Darvy knowing that we are here. We must decide which is a better route. Going through the Ministry's defences, or going through Darvy's. Considering the latter should have an impressive army built up by now, I'd say that the former is our best bet, don't you agree?"
Albus mouthed wordlessly at the logic, but as he had no proper rebuttal, he was forced to simply wait for Fairhart to resume leading the way. Only five minutes into their trek through the entanglements of the jungle did Fairhart's weather prediction of water were starting to slowly fall on Albus' head, the feeling actually rather refreshing after the the way that the flames had scorched him.
"We'll have to split up momentarily" Fairhart said out of nowhere, and Albus felt his skin crawl.
"W- what?"
"We'll find shelter faster if we divide our efforts" Fairhart said, turning to him. The rain began to speed up as he spoke, the thick drops of water now serving as more of an annoyance than anything.
"Can't we just- can't we just move through the rain?" Albus asked hopefully; he was not very keen on separating himself from Fairhart.
"We could" Fairhart told him blandly. "But I figured that we could see the precipitation as a schedule of sorts. A designated point of rest. You don't fancy a nice break every now and then?"
"I do, but-"
"You can go off on your own" Fairhart told him soothingly. "You are more than capable, I am sure of it. And I doubt you'll be encountering any powerful enchantments like what we just went through; remember, this island needs to be habitable for the creatures here, there won't be jinxes in such close proximity. Just be on the lookout for sleeping monsters, and don't go too far."
Albus inhaled sharply, but the downpour was now so strong that he could hardly argue against the necessity of a resting place. He considered asking if there was any combination of spells that could serve to provide them with shelter exactly where they stood, but he figured that Fairhart would probably have some outlandish reason for making them do things the hard way anyhow. And so, they split up, a giant, charred tree serving as an indication of where they were to meet if they found a reasonable place to set up camp.
Albus didn't even bother glancing over his shoulder to see where Fairhart was going, instead too preoccupied with trying to navigate his way through the shrubbery without his vision impaired by the rain. For about five minutes straight he proceeded through the dank foliage, at one point even hurrying along fearfully; a menacing, lilac colored plant had hissed at him as though it were going to attack. The Supersensory Charm placed on him seemed to be wearing off as well, as the pounding rain was starting to sound more and more normal in his ears, and this worried him somewhat. It would just be his luck to stumble into an enchantment with no way of having had prior warning.
There didn't appear to be any defensive measures in the path that he'd selected though, leaving him to wonder if Fairhart had encountered any on his selected route. He was just starting consider the fact that Fairhart could already be dead, with no way of Albus knowing, when something distracted him.
About ten feet away was a cluster of bushes, rustling fiercely as though they contained something living. Albus narrowed his eyes to peer through the rain, raising his wand up instinctively as he did so. His eyes widened when something terrifying caught his eye. For a fraction of a second, a human hand had been visible, poking out of the damp shrub.
"Homenum Revelio!" Albus cried through the rain, whipping his wand downward.
Nothing happened. He felt his body clam up with anxiety. Either his mind had been playing tricks on him, or a person was indeed nearby, and his spell hadn't even worked. Sadly, he realized, the second possibility actually seemed more likely, considering he'd only just recently learned this spell while under Fairhart's tutelage, and had by no means perfected it.
His mind began racing with what else it could have been; definitely not a Chimaera, but hadn't Fairhart mentioned other creatures being on the island? If it wasn't a person, which of them could it have been?
The bush rustled again, and this time, the hand actually extended from it sharply, making Albus jump back, his wand once again raised. He was just preparing to fire a hex when the entire figure emerged, making him gasp and clasp his other hand to his mouth.
It had been a human. In fact, it was himself.
A double of Albus Potter had exited the bush, its appearance so similar it was sickening. It wore the same loose fitting shirt, and the same worn pants, and even the same muddy trainers. What was different about it, Albus realized at once, was its golden, glowing eyes. Staring maliciously through the rain, the Albus Potter from his nightmares was standing only a few feet away.
Albus felt his body go numb as his hand began shaking up and down. He cowered slightly, watching as the nightmare Albus began walking towards him with a cocky, malevolent smirk-
It stopped dead in its tracks. There was an odd, completely unpredictable moment in which the golden eyed fiend began contorting itself eerily, and then, at the next moment, it had started to transform, its shape becoming more rectangular, beginning to bear a passing resemblance to some sort of long box, or maybe even a crib-
"Riddikulus!"
There was a loud cracking noise, and the object had vanished completely in a puff of smoke. Albus turned around and saw Fairhart standing just a few feet behind him, his wand outstretched and his expression grim.
"Come on" he hollered through the rain. "I found another grotto for us to use..."
Albus followed along after him silently, still somewhat shaken. They retraced his steps all the way past the charred tree and then some, until eventually Albus was being led to an area that he hadn't previously been to. Sure enough, though, there was a small cave positioned right by a stream of rushing water, and it was this small cavity that he entered, the sight of a blazing fire welcoming him at once.
"Try and get a bit of sleep" Fairhart told him as they sat down by the flames, the sound of the rain outside now accompanied by claps of thunder.
Albus didn't even comment on this. He instead looked up at the Renegade with what he knew was a gaunt face. As if to show that he was aware of what was going through his head, Fairhart started his explanation of what had just happened.
"It would appear as though, despite the absence of the Dementors, the Ministry is still using a psychological-"
"That was just a Boggart, right?" Albus cut him off testily, remembering the name from years ago, when he'd done a homework assignment on them.
"Yes" answered Fairhart firmly. "Just a Boggart" he added warmly.
Albus said nothing, instead simply nodding his head. When Fairhart spoke to him again, the curiosity in his voice was almost unnerving.
"What was it you were looking at?" he asked. "Was that you, during your transformations? Like before I found you?"
Albus nodded, his throat scratchy. Still, he spoke.
"I see that in my dreams" he said, rubbing at the sides of his arms. Fairhart noticed this and waved his wand lazily; Albus felt warmth spread through him at once.
"Still?" Fairhart asked, and Albus shook his head.
"No" he said quickly. "Not- not for a while. I fought it once. Told it that I wasn't afraid of it. It never showed up again after that."
"Interesting" Fairhart said, staring at him intently. Albus avoided his gaze, however. "A Boggart transforms itself into what you fear most; there must be some aspect of what you saw that intimidates you. Why are you so fright-"
"I don't know!" Albus lashed out angrily. "But you do, right?" he added acidly.
Fairhart tilted his head to the side slightly.
"What do you mean-"
"You know everything, don't you?" Albus spat. "You know why I have these dreams, and why I talk to myself like a nutter, right?"
He had not forgotten Fairhart revelation from before; the series of events that had brought him here had simply forced Albus to postpone further inquiries about it. He was not about to allow Fairhart to pry him for more information though, not now. Not until he at least had some answers.
"Albus...calm down..." Fairhart said, a note of concern in his voice.
"Tell me what you know!"
"Think about what you're asking!" Fairhart barked, sounding, for the first time in a while, truly agitated.
The flames shot upwards along with the tone of his voice, but this was not enough to make Albus recoil. He instead stared at Fairhart with a look that combined both ire and inquisition.
"Ask yourself something, Albus" Fairhart said shortly. "Do you honestly think that I'd keep something from you if I thought that it could benefit you? Do you think that my secrecy is an act of spite? Or loathing? Is that what you think?"
Albus bared his teeth, not entirely sure how to answer this. Not that he even got the chance, of course. Fairhart had already continued seamlessly.
"What I know-or more accurately, what I think I know-I am not telling you because I believe that it will come with severe consequences. I will tell you, this I promise. But not now. You will have to trust that I know what the best time is to give you answers that you seek."
Albus said nothing, still seething somewhat. Slowly, he nodded.
"You will tell me?" he shot out darkly. "We're friends, and we have to trust-"
"That is correct" Fairhart said, his voice calmer. "We have to trust one another. And I need you to trust me now."
Albus crossed his arms over, still frustrated, but now unwilling to escalate things further. Fairhart turned his attention back to the fire, staring at it with intensity as though a mild row had not just broken out. Albus kept his eyes on him, curious as to just what it was going on in his head.
"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked lowly, intent on perhaps changing the atmosphere.
Fairhart turned to him slowly. He hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Ida" he said plainly, and Albus felt the cold return to his body.
Stupidly, he lowered his head, unsure of how to progress from here. It had been truly idiotic to ask such a question; he'd long since learned that Fairhart's mind was a complicated one, and its contents typically only served to exude negativity when brought to light. To his surprise, however, Fairhart asked a question of his own.
"Who is your best friend, Albus?"
"What? Erm- Morrison and Scorpius" he answered automatically, knowing that it would be futile to pick between them. He excluded Mirra from the equation as well; that was a different thought process entirely.
Fairhart nodded, but said nothing. Unsure of how to decipher this cryptic question, Albus asked of its importance outright.
"Why?"
Fairhart gave a wry smile, half of his face contorting to accompany his words.
"Don't ever forget the love and support of your friends and family, Albus. When all else seems lost, you will find no greater strength than the knowledge that others care for, and depend on you."
This did little to answer Albus' question, but Fairhart's comment had been made in such a way that it seemed as though all conversation was to cease. As if to exemplify this, Fairhart positioned his body in a more reclined manner, staring outwardly and away from the flames as he did so.
"Try and get some sleep" he said once more. "I will wake you when we can begin moving again."
Albus nodded and went to his lay his head back against a smooth piece of rock behind him. Only when he tried closing his eyes did he realize something.
"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked.
"It is never wise to have no one on lookout" Fairhart replied, almost robotically. "I will keep watch."
Albus frowned. Fairhart had kept watch after they'd washed up on shore as well. Come to think of it, when was the last time he'd even slept? It must've been before the debacle in Lambshire...
"I'll keep watch" Albus said, picking his head up, but Fairhart shook his head aggressively.
"You need your sleep" he said. "I will keep watch."
Albus exhaled deeply, knowing that arguing the point would get him nowhere. He instead placed his back against the smooth stone, trying to drift off as instructed.
He was having an extremely hard time of it though. The moment of tranquility was also providing him with pieces of frightening, inarguable truths. He had nearly died today. More than once, actually. They may not have been his first ever ventures, but these most recent close-calls had one thing that his previous ones didn't. He had asked for these. Had even prepared himself for them beforehand.
The excitement from the boat-the enthusiasm at being so close to his father-had worn off almost completely now. His burning desire to be his father's savior was now marred by terrible images of his brief time here on the island, and the knowledge that there was plenty more to come was not making things any better. They were still on the outer rim of the island. His father was in the center, encased in a powerful fortress, an army like no other separating them. And even beyond all that, Fairhart also wanted to leave the island with at least one rare, most likely heavily guarded artifact in hand...
Without even realizing just how melancholy he was, he felt a warm tear slide down his cheek. Fairhart's comments about his friends and loved ones were poisoning his thoughts now, sending bittersweet memories wafting through them. He had come to this island to do something productive; to make a difference. But what was he leaving behind? He thought of Morrison and Scorpius, and Mirra, and his brother and sister, and his mother and his cousins. His heart sunk at the thought of their faces right now, at this very moment. What would those faces look like if he never returned? Fear shot through him almost painfully; a fear that made what the Boggart had induced feel almost euphoric.
For how long he sat there in silence he wasn't sure. He was fairly certain that the faces plaguing his mind prevented him from ever truly falling however, and after an indeterminate amount of time, he registered movement. He opened his eyes to find Fairhart close to him, both of his eyes looking sunken. The disfigured side of his face had never looked more lifeless.
"Ready?" he croaked.
Albus nodded. Five minutes later, the fire had been extinguished, and they had exited their natural place of would-be slumber. The rain had ceased, but the ground beneath their feet was wet and slippery, thick drops of water still sliding down the thick tree trunks around them. The muggy chill sent a shiver through his body, and, desperate to simply get moving, he voiced his thoughts aloud.
"You still know where we're going, right?"
Fairhart nodded from next to him. "I have an idea" he said lamely. "Stay focused though. It is very unlikely that we've seen the last of the enchantments around this island. Which reminds me-"
He brandished his wand, and once more, a Supersensory Charm had been placed on them both. When the previous charms had fully worn off Albus wasn't sure, but the sudden influx of previously undetectable sounds and scents proved that they most definitely had. Albus was now back to being as alert as possible.
Together the two of them trekked through mud and severed branches; the storm had done some damage to a few of the weaker trees, leaving Albus to wonder just how they'd survived this long anyway. Ferocious storms seemed commonplace here, after all. On more than one occasion an odd sound caught them off guard, but it always ended up being some form of nearly harmless creature, typically some sort of unrecognizable bird. Only once did they reach a point where Fairhart needed to stop and walk around as well; entering a dense patch of plant life, some sort of invisible barrier had forced them to tiptoe diagonally, Fairhart keeping his wand raised the entire time as if to prevent some form of actual defence from arising.
Every now and then Albus stared up at the sky to catch sight of the looming structure of Azkaban, and he had to admit, it did seem to be getting closer, if only slightly. As they walked in almost complete silence, he spent a great deal of time trying to calculate just how far away they were, every answer that he came up with ultimately leaving him dissatisfied. It was not until something highly unusual entered his ears that he abandoned his thoughts completely.
It was a muffled voice. Albus froze on the spot, as did Fairhart, who needlessly held out a hand protectively to stop him from going any further.
"What was-"
"Shhh!" Fairhart whispered darkly, and again the voices could be heard, though they were still unintelligible.
Albus felt himself start to sweat. He immediately thought of the Boggart from before, but he was also fairly certain that Boggarts didn't speak, and beyond that, the odds that both he and Fairhart would be hearing a voice were extremely low. Before he could give anymore thought on the matter, Fairhart had already raised his wand at him again.
A surprising, though familiar feeling overtook him; it was as though an egg was cracking over his head. Albus held up a hand to his face for confirmation, and though he expected what he saw, he couldn't help but be perplexed.
"A Disillusionment Charm?" he asked, staring right through his camouflaged hand. "What are-"
Fairhart casted the spell on himself quickly, then guided Albus with a low voice, just the muffling sounds were becoming louder.
"Up a tree now. Hurry!"
Albus did as he was told, turning around and spotting the nearest climbable tree at once. He felt movement from next to him as Fairhart began bounding up his own personal mountain in complete silence. To his immense surprise, Albus was able to match the professionalism. He reached a branch towards the acme of a tree in only a few seconds, and though he heard a few slight sounds, he knew that he could hardly be angry with himself; they had been low, and he did have a Supersensory Charm placed on him...
He sat perched like a bird, trying to make sure that his apprehension didn't interfere with his stillness. From this point of view the island had never looked more like a forest, the tops of trees serving as a backdrop that extended all the way to Azkaban, all of them uniquely shaped but serving to create an overall uneventful stretch of green. He turned his head from side to side in an attempt to find Fairhart, but he gave up almost once. Knowing his former professor, it would be difficult to find him if he were wearing red in a field of white; trying to find him when camouflaged into a random tree was impossible to say the least. For whatever it was they were dealing with, he was on his own.
And all too soon it became apparent just what it was they were hiding from. The voices were now clear, and Albus could hear an active conversation below.
"Who do you reckon he throws in their next?" said a crunchy, menacing voice.
"That fool who attacked Markson, probably" answered an icier, slow voice. "He'll probably make a few others in that row spectate too; I know I would. Sets an example."
Albus had no idea what the two people below him were talking about, but one thing was obvious: they had no idea they were being watched. He peered through leaves and caught on to their position with ease. It was just two of them, dressed in dark cloaks and void of the red masks that Albus usually saw them wear. They were walking at a slow pace as well. It wouldn't be too difficult to get a well aimed spell in there...
Being unable to communicate with Fairhart was awful, as he wasn't entirely sure what the Renegade's own plans were. But Albus was not about to let these two Dark Alliance members dawdle in their vicinity, preventing them from doing anything until they left. He had the advantage here; the element of surprise. He'd been training for events like this almost exactly.
He took aim at the Dark Alliance member on the right, who had just started a sentence-
He concentrated as hard as he could on the Stunning Spell, and sure enough, a well sized stream of red light soared through the trees. Bizarrely, a second, slightly larger stream of red light soared by it in a parallel fashion; the two wizards crumbled to the ground silently, unable to even give a yell of surprise.
Before Albus could even begin to make his way down, he'd heard a thump, telling him that Fairhart had leapt to ground level. By the time he'd managed to drop down himself, Fairhart was already hovering over the two incapacitated foes, his Disillusionment Charm removed. Albus approached him, watched as Fairhart waved his wand, and then realized that the charm had been removed from himself as well.
"Good call, Albus" Fairhart said, sounding impressed. "You didn't even need to see my stunner; you took the lead."
"Well I figured that we're better off without them conscious" Albus said lamely, looking down at the two men, neither of whom were wearing masks. One had a twisted, wiry look to him; the other was thicker, with tangled brown hair and chubby cheeks.
"You know what we do next, right?" Fairhart asked, raising his wand up.
"No-"
"We interrogate them" Fairhart said, and Albus, whose heart had begun to beat rather quickly, lowered his hand.
Fairhart didn't revitalize either of them right away however. He first made slashing movements through the air with his wand, and Albus understood that he was placing jinxes on their prey now. If Albus had to guess, he'd say that Silencing spells and Full Body-Bind jinxes were among them.
"Rennervate" Fairhart muttered after a moment.
There was immediate struggling, though it amounted to nothing. Incapable of speaking or moving more than their necks, the two men simply shook their heads back and forth like turtles turned on their backs. With surprising strength, Fairhart lifted them both by their collars in each hand, then placed them both slumped up against two thicktrees that were next to one another.
"You can stop trying to move" Fairhart said crisply. "It's not going to amount to anything."
Both of them stopped at once, the thin one looked fearful, the thicker one more aggressive.
Fairhart positioned himself so that he was in between both of them, leaving Albus a few feet behind. Albus watched him tensely, both curious and anxious to see exactly what a Renegade did once they'd successfully neutralized their target.
"Now here's what's going to happen" Fairhart said to them both, his wand outstretched threateningly. "I'm going to take the Silencing spells off of you so that you can answer me. If either of you attempts to shout or scream or make any other pathetic noise meant to lure more people my way, you will be silenced again, tortured briefly on principle, and then killed. Understand?"
Both of them stared at Fairhart with hatred, but Albus couldn't help but marvel at him. He'd sounded almost like he was reciting his demands. How many people had heard that same thing before? And how many of them had foolishly not complied?
After a moment, both of them nodded. Fairhart waved his wand lazily, and Albus saw, to his immense relief, that both of them valued their lives. Neither of them made a sound.
Fairhart crouched down onto his knees, examining them both with interest. Albus couldn't see his face from where he was standing, but he had the strange suspicion that something like a smile was playing on his face. This unnerved him slightly.
"Now if I didn't know any better," Fairhart started, "I'd say that you two were patrolling. Now what would two relatively poor wizards be doing patrolling such a dangerous area? Looking for someone?"
Neither of them spoke at first, but after a moment, the thicker one spoke up. His voice was a deep snarl that made Albus cringe.
"Death's Right Hand knows you're here!" he spat. "He told us to distract you, there's more people-"
Fairhart slashed his wand through the air menacingly. There was a flash of white light, a squeal reminiscent of a dog whimpering, and the next thing that Albus knew the man was bleeding profusely from his nose, thick drops of red sliding down over his lips and onto his neck.
"I know when you're lying" Fairhart said icily, and the thin man made a noise of terror. His partner was now staring at Fairhart with glinting eyes, his chin soaked with blood, some fight still left in him.
Slowly, Fairhart inched his way towards the man's face, his wand pointed at his chest.
"And if you lie to me again," he said softly, "I'm going to slowly eviscerate you, do you understand me? Do you know what that means?"
The man nodded his head callously, but it was his intimidated comrade who spoke up.
"We'll tell you whatever you want!" he squealed, petrified, and the bleeding man next to him shot him a dirty look.
"Good" Fairhart said, turning his attention to him. "Now, I'm guessing that this was just a regular patrol, correct?"
The man nodded quickly. This affirmation seemed to be legitimate, as Fairhart continued without making any more threats.
"But your close proximity must indicate that the safe trail that you were using is close by, correct?"
The man nodded again, and Fairhart scratched at his chin.
"How exactly do you enter and exit the prison?" he asked. "Aside from the obvious entrance, has Darvy created alternative routes in and out?"
Albus watched as the man swallowed intensely. He hesitated for a moment-
The moment's hesitation proved to be too much for Fairhart, who turned his wand on the already bleeding enemy next to him.
"Every question you fail to answer results in torture for your pal-"
"Stop!" Albus barked, rushing towards Fairhart. The two men, both of whom were now giving cowardly looks at the wand, turned their attention to him in surprise; it seemed as though neither of them had even noticed him before.
Fairhart glared at him as he jogged up to him, but before he could say anything, Albus had already spoken.
"Can I talk to you real quick?" he asked nervously. "Over- over there?"
Fairhart gave him a piercing look for a single second, then turned to the two men, his wand raised.
"A single noise!" he said, and they both nodded in understanding at the meanings behind his sentence fragment.
Slowly, Albus led him a few feet away and behind a thick tree, trying to keep the two Dark Alliance members in sight without allowing them to hear what was going on. It was very tricky though; the Supersensory Charm placed on him was making it hard for him to get a good grasp of what was supposed to be loud and what wasn't.
"Can't we just use Legilimancy?" Albus asked at once, and Fairhart frowned.
"Albus, you know first hand how difficult that would be. Legilimancy is for extracting more general information; it provides vivid images and extracts basic thoughts, nothing more. I need more details-"
"We'll both do it" Albus interjected. "I'll take one, you take the other, I need the practice anyway-"
"Albus," Fairhart started with a sigh, "I'm not going to kill these men-"
"Really?" Albus asked sharply.
"Of course not" Fairhart told him. "I still need to separate them, cross-examine them-"
Albus tossed his arms up. "We do this my way first" he said. "And if it doesn't work, then you can- you can- you can do whatever" he said, a small jolt going through his body.
Fairhart gave him a dark look before answering.
"Fine" he said coldly.
"You really enjoy this, don't you?" Albus accused him.
"Honestly?" Fairhart said lowly, and he looked over his shoulder at the slumped figures of the two terrified Dark Alliance members. "No, I don't. Not anymore. But to be most effective, they need to think that I do."
Albus nodded, but as he made to walk away, Fairhart grasped him by the shoulder.
"Keep one other thing in mind Albus" he said. "To be most effective, I also need to make good on my threats. Understand?"
Albus said nothing, merely giving another nod in recognition, this one more grim. Slowly, they marched back to the two men, both of their wands raised.
"What's going on-" the thin one started, sounding as though his teeth were chattering.
Albus aimed his wand at the more assertive of the two, just as Fairhart had aimed his at the stammering man. Simultaneously, they both cried aloud, "Legilimens!"
With no reservations about what he'd see, Albus delved into the mind of the bleeding Dark Alliance member. Images began flashing in his head at once, though the sight of the bleeding man in front of him was equally clear. It was as though one of Albus' eyes was physical, the other mental. He saw a flash of red first, and then witnessed, with a twinge of terror, a man being torn to shreds by skeletal beasts. The image evaporated and became replaced by an older memory, involving a young, hard-faced girl-his younger sister perhaps-teasing him over something. But that memory was of a personal nature, and didn't matter much, so he shifted through it quickly, the next memory presenting him with-
Azkaban. Up close, the facade of the giant stone prison bearing down on him, a hole blown in the side of it. But next to the entrance was a tremendous graveyard, dreary and bleak, random, poorly constructed headstones poking out of the ground. But the graveyard was not empty. No, it was far from it. It was packed with the skeletal monsters from the first memory, and they were all walking around in the same lopsided manner, looking as though they were grazing, with humongous, charcoal colored steeds sometimes accompanying them. And as he slowly walked away, the full picture came into view, revealing hundreds and hundreds of them, an army like no other-
Albus lowered his wand, then wiped at his face at once. He glanced over at Fairhart, who'd finished his own excursion as well. He too was looking surly, and Albus had the feeling that he'd seen something similar.
In a single, unpredictable striking motion, Fairhart struck his wand through the air. Streaks of red light hit both of the men, and their heads lulled to the side peacefully, ending their slight movements.
"What- what did you see?" Albus asked, a quiver in his voice.
Fairhart turned to him slowly. "A lot" he said. "But most importantly...I saw breeding grounds."
Albus nodded. "Darvy's using the graveyard" he said. "That's where he's keeping all of the Silhouettes that he's making. He's amassing his army there-"
"- And keeping them close to the only part of the prison that can be successfully infiltrated" Fairhart added swiftly. "He's more clever than we give him credit for."
Albus felt his entire body go rigid as Fairhart said it. He'd just been thinking the same thing.
"So- so what do we do?"
"We head back" Fairhart said boldly. "And get on the safe trail."
"What?" Albus asked, stymied. "But you said- something- Darvy would be watching-"
"There's a very good chance that the trail laid out by the Ministry-the same one that Darvy took-leads directly to the graveyard that I, and presumably you as well saw. The idea, I'm sure, is that anyone who takes the safe trail will be met face to face with Darvy's army before they can proceed much further. This means that all of his actual manpower can patrol the island freely. This actually slightly helps our ultimate goal. We can use the safe trail without the risk of exposing our presence here. The only difficult thing will beactually getting in-"
"Yeah" Albus said airily, a small, inexplicable laugh in his voice. "Did you- did you happen to see just how many...?"
"I did" Fairhart said. "But I also saw that they were all condensed to the graveyard itself. The graveyard outside the walls of Azkaban is notoriously large Albus, many prisoners have died here over the years. But even still, my guess is that there are Ministry enchantments around it. Darvy is most likely using these enchantments to his advantage, and keeping his creatures contained while he creates more. So long as we are careful about not disturbing them we should be okay."
Albus said nothing, unable to do anything other than shake his head slowly in disbelief. This task was getting more ridiculous by the moment. Their main goal had at first been to avoid as much as possible. Now they were heading right to where Darvy's budding army was?
"So...so first things first, we head back, right?" Albus asked.
"In a manner of speaking" Fairhart said with a shrug. "We'll take a slightly altered route, but yes, we're mostly going to go back the way we came. This too favors us. Any enchantments we've already encountered will be unlikely to activate again, and those that we avoided we'll still know to avoid-"
A shriek penetrated the stillness around them, amplified by the charms placed on them and by the reverberation of the thick trees. The high pitched noise was crude and barbaric; ear-splitting in every sense of the term. Fairhart looked around wildly, but Albus stayed frozen on the spot, a horrible wave of nostalgia overtaking him.
"Silhouettes" he mumbled, his face blank.
"What?" Fairhart asked him sharply.
"Silhouettes!" Albus said loudly. "That's the noise that they make, I've heard that before-"
The sound came again, this time even louder. Albus had to plug his ears to stop them from bleeding, but even as he did so he caught sight of just where the screech was coming from. It was above them.
There, up in a tree just a few over from the one that Albus had climbed, was an enormous black bird. It looked almost prehistoric, its feathers the color of ink and its beak long, sharp, and as white as bone marrow. The Supersensory Charm allowed Albus to take in the foul stench of it, but this couldn't compare to its screech, which it made again-
Fairhart struck his wand through the air, and a jet of green soared upwards into the tree. The Killing Curse hit the bird square in the face, and though this silenced it, it continued to flap its black, leathery wings as though it hadn't been affected at all. Whatever this creature was, it was already dead.
"Run" Fairhart said, and he took off speedily, Albus following along after him without saying a word, still trying to comprehend just what was going on.
"What's going on!" he shouted, though somewhere, in the back of his head, he thought that he knew.
The jet black bird screeched again, and Fairhart was forced to shout over it.
"We must hurry back the way we came. Don't stray away from me now, I am retracing our steps-"
"That bird came from the Veil didn't it?" Albus asked, clutching at his side while he ran and ducking underneath a pair of lethal looking vines that were hanging from a tree.
"I am almost certain of it!" Fairhart called from ahead of him, and Albus watched as he slashed his wand through the air like a blade, cutting a large, messy hedge in half so as to let them go through it. "And I believe that it is alerting other creatures to our presence-"
Albus stopped dead in his tracks, panting and grabbing at his knees, his chest burning. "W- what?" he asked, trembling.
"There's no time to focus on it now!" Fairhart exclaimed, slowing down somewhat and looking over his shoulder as he spoke. "Now hurry!"
Albus gulped at the musty air, then fought his way through a shrub and began to speed up a bit.
Clip-clop.
"Do you think we'll be safe on the trail?" Albus called ahead, one hand still clutching his side, panic flooding him.
Fairhart slashed his way through another natural made obstacle before answering. "We'll at least have a direct route!" he hollered. "Keep up now, don't slow down-"
Albus leapt over a fallen branch as he hurried along, a clap of thunder telling him that yet another storm was coming. He kept his eyes on the agile image of Fairhart as he chased after him, but he veered off slightly to avoid a towering tree that was obstructing his path-
There was a noiselike a cannon, and the next thing that Albus knew, the ground beneath him had raised itself up, catapulting him forward into the air-
He grabbed on to a branch protruding from a tree, then dropped back down to ground level, bewildered at what was going on. He made to keep running, but the ground moved beneath him again-
This time his right foot shot upwards, causing his left to twist itself painfully. He let out a growl and made a grab for his sore ankle. He heard Fairhart shouting ahead of him, but his voice was masked by something else, something loud and clear due to the Supersensory Charm.
Clip-clop.
Albus massaged his foot, the ground still rumbling underneath him. Whatever hidden enchantment he'd triggered, it was designed more to disorient than to cause major harm, and in that aspect it was succeeding.
He looked up and saw Fairhart emerging from behind a tall tree, breathless and wearing an expression of exasperation.
"What happened-"
He was cut off by another small tremor however, one that threw Albus to the floor completely and made Fairhart stumble as well.
"Microseism Jinx" he answered himself lowly.
"Sorry!" Albus gasped, still massaging at his foot. "Just keep going, I'll catch up-"
But Fairhart had already swooped down on him.
Clip-clop.
"Hold still now" he said, and he tapped his wand to Albus's foot. "Episkey!" he cried.
Albus felt the pain vanish at once, but when he made to stand up, he noticed that he was still a little lopsided. His foot was still injured, just no longer in pain.
"How does it feel?" Fairhart asked him tensely, another tremor moving below them. They grabbed at one another's shoulders to keep steady.
"Better" Albus said truthfully. "Just a bit stiff-"
"Healing was never my strong suit" Fairhart admitted. "But we must keep moving, grab on to me if you must-"
Albus nodded, but decided not to hinder Fairhart's movement. He instead fought through the discomfort, hobbling along after the scarred Renegade as fast as he could. His brief rest on the ground had rejuvenated him slightly, enough at least to make him speed up and outrun the tremors, which seemed to have only affected a certain area. Rain started to fall lightly, but Albus mostly used his ears to follow after Fairhart, listening to the sound of his feet slipping on mud and snapping twigs-
Fairhart spun around and grabbed him by the collar.
"What are you-"
"Down!" Fairhart hissed, and he threw him to the floor violently.
Albus felt his body land in a muddy puddle, a thick, massive log serving as a barrier of sorts. The dirty water splashed into his face, entering his mouth and making him choke for a second. He made to yell angrily, but the look on Fairhart's scarred face abated him at once. He too had crouched down behind the log, his entire face-both the normal side and the disfigured one-a ghostly white.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
Slowly and cautiously, Albus raised his head one centimeter at a time, his eyes taking in the scene in an instant. Even through the now furious rain he could see the streaks of red that served as fiery manes, the crimson hooves and massive blobs of black being registered next. There were two of them there, two charcoal black horses identical to the ones that Albus had seen in the thoughts of the interrogated Dark Alliance member, larger than just about anything that Albus had seen in his Care for Magical Creatures class, including both Hippogriffs and Thestrals. They were both standing still, their long, ferocious faces staring blankly ahead as though waiting for instructions from what was riding atop them.
They were each manned by a tall, menacing Silhouette, thin black reigns in each skeletal hand, the long, slimy legs stretched out loosely over each side of the beasts. It was two Silhouettes riding two flaming horses, and the foul odor added up fast. Albus nearly gagged from it, but Fairhart tactfully pulled him down by his sleeve, concealing them both.
Albus felt his entire body go numb with shock at the situation that they were in. Rain splattered off of the top of his head as he gazed restlessly at Fairhart, hoping that he had some sort of plan for getting out of this alive. But as he'd said earlier, he'd never fought a Silhouette before; of the two of them, only Albus had. And as he'd only barely survived that encounter as well, he couldn't help but think that two equine monsters added to the fold were not going to help his odds this time.
He tried to focus; to think with confidence rather than terror. Fairhart had prepared him for this. He was to use Blasting Curses, right? If his training pulled through, that should at least damage the Silhouettes bearing down on him. About the massive horses though-Necrosteeds, he was pretty sure they were called-he had no idea. Would the Blasting Curse be able to harm them as well?
He continued to stare at Fairhart, who was looking alert, his wand drawn but kept low. He was preparing to lash out and attack, Albus was sure of it.
Clip-clop.
One of the fiery horses was trotting towards them. Albus acted on impulse, not sure what Fairhart was waiting for, but unwilling to prolong things for another second. He removed himself from cover and held out his wand with both hands, preparing to attack.
Fairhart shouted something, but Albus was unable to hear it. The second that he'd stood up to attack, a most peculiar sensation had went through him. A Necrosteed had indeed trotted its way over to the log, but for a single moment Albus had made eye contact with the Silhouette on top of it, his green eyes meeting the hollow, gouged out portions of its skull. Through the rain he stared almost absently at it, the slimy skin hanging off of its skeletal body, its sharp, claw like fingers wrapped around the reigns of the beast it sat atop. For a wild moment, he felt soothed; relaxed. The Silhouette wasn't going to hurt him...
"Get down!" Fairhart roared in his ear, and he felt powerful arms force him down behind the log again. It was just in the nick of time too; the Necrosteed that he'd been ogling had opened its mouth, a stream of powerful fire issuing from it-
The intense heat soaring over his head brought Albus back to reality. What had just happened? There was no time to think about it. He could hear screeching again-the battle cries of the deadly Silhouettes, and when the fire had subsided above him, both he and Fairhart rose up to see that the two Necrosteeds were bucking and neighing aggressively, their crimson hooves sliding around in the mud.
"Confringo!" Fairhart shouted, and there was a loud banging noise. The spell collided with the bucking Necrosteed's underbelly, sending it backward and toppling over, its rider being thrown from it. Albus did the same thing, but his spell missed, hitting a tree instead, which broke to bits, sending splinters in the powerful wind and rain.
The other Necrosteed opened its mouth, and another stream of flames was shot out. Albus threw himself to the ground just in time to watch Fairhart swipe his wand through the air again. What looked like mist shot from it, the vapor colliding with the flames and extinguishing them immediately. This proved to be an ultimately poor choice of strategy however; the resulting fog made it nearly impossible to follow the battle anymore, and Albus caught a fleeting glance of the Silhouette atop the Necrosteed slashing a claw-like hand through the air at Fairhart-
Fairhart spun around to dodge it, but wasn't fast enough. Albus heard him yell out in pain as he sank down on one knee, his hand clutching his shoulder, which was bleeding freely. Albus jumped up from his position on the ground and leapt at the Renegade, intent on forcing him to the ground before any further harm could happen to him, but he collided with the powerful body of the Necrosteed and fell backwards instead. He looked up, peering at the Silhouette through the haze, and saw that it was getting ready to depart from its mount, to execute Fairhart, who was still nursing his shoulder-
A resounding growl entered Albus' ears, and to his surprise, it sounded nothing like the screech that he now loathed. It was instead more feline than anything else, and it was so loud and intimidating that even the Silhouette halted its advancement.
Albus saw a massive shape move through the rain and mist. Swiftly and powerfully, the gigantic mass of black collided with the Silhouette, knocking it off of the Necrosteed with ease and sending it plummeting into the mud. Only when Albus caught sight of a thick, scaly tail did he realize what was going on.
They'd retraced their steps back to the Chimaera. And what's more, they'd woken it up.
Albus crouched down to grab hold of Fairhart, but couldn't take his eyes off of the battle occurring in front of him. The Chimaera had begun attacking the Necrosteed as well, its ferocious claws stabbing into the black horse's body with ease. The Necrosteed raised itself onto his hind legs as it was forced back, and was then thrown to the ground like its rider. The Silhouette had screeched and was trying to stand back up, but was knocked to the ground by the powerful, dragon-like tail of the ferocious hybrid beast.
For a moment, it seemed like the Chimaera had won. But then Albus saw the Necrosteed from before; the one that Fairhart had knocked over. It was back on its feet, and a single flash of fire later and the Chimaera had been blasted back into a tree, which snapped in half and toppled over just inches from where Albus and Fairhart were.
"We need to move!" Fairhart sputtered out, trying to stand and regain his balance.
Albus helped him to his feet, then turned his attention back to the Chimaera, which was already back on its feet. One of the two Silhouettes had leapt on top of it, and was now digging its claws into the belly of the weakened creature. The Chimaera gave another roar and seized the Silhouette by its lanky, skeletal arms. There was a ferocious tug, and both of the arms had been broken right off.
Albus cringed in surprise as the Silhouette fell backwards, armless, some sort of black ooze pouring from its empty sockets. It writhed around in the mud wildly, screeching loudly, until the Chimaera hopped on top if it, its goat body leaking blood. It started to batter the head of the Silhouette around, but the other one had already leapt on it, creating a pile up of the three creatures.
"This way, hurry!" Fairhart said, taking the lead again. Albus followed him through the rain, keeping hold of him to help keep him steady, but they were both forced to a halt when something dropped in front of them.
It was a skeletal torso, and it was missing two arms, a head, and half of a leg. The Silhouette from the bottom of the pile had officially been defeated.
Albus looked behind him again, brilliant flashes of orange scorching his retinas. The two Necrosteeds were both neighing and shooting flames rapidly, though the Chimaera's tough skin seemed to be fireproof. It was fighting its way through the clouds of flames on all fours, clawing at the horsesand digging its flesh into them. Albus watched as the remaining Silhouette moved on it from behind while it was preoccupied with the Necrosteeds. It grabbed the scaly green tail in both of its massive hands, and then, with outrageous strength that Albus knew was only possible through magic, it swung the beast through the air. The Chimaera gave a soft whimper of pain as it hurtled through air, in, of course, Albus' direction-
He ducked down, pulling Fairhart down with him. It wasn't quite enough though. One of the Chimaera's feet connected with Fairhart, sending him staggering back and into a dense patch of sinister looking, scarlet flowers, which hissed as soon as his face made contact with them. Albus watched as a bright red, acid-like substance squirted from them, hitting Fairhart right in the face. He gave a yell of anguish and he hoisted himself up, flailing around blindly and clutching at his face with the only arm that could be raised, the same one that was, surprisingly enough, still clutching his wand.
"Are you okay!" Albus yelled through the rain, the sound of the thrashing Chimaera a few feet only making it harder to hear his own voice.
"I- can't- see-"
Albus grabbed on to Fairhart again, trying to steer him through a cluster of trees. He caught sight of the Chimaera out of the corner of his eye; it had leapt to all fours once more, and with another roar from its lion head, it tore back into the fray, where it tackled a Necrosteed and began slashing away at it again-
"Come one, I've got you-" Albus tried crooning to Fairhart, whose bleeding arm was hanging loosely at his side, the other one wrapped around his neck as he steered him through the pockets of plant life. The rain had started to lighten, and with the downpour no longer a hindrance on his vision, Albus was able to lead Fairhart around smoothly. The only problem was, he didn't know where he was going.
"Erm- San-"
"You're going the right way" Fairhart breathed with a rattling breath, and Albus caught sight of his face. Not much had changed for the most part, but both of his eyes were jammed shut, the skin around them-both the disfigured side and the regular one, a deep pink. It appeared as though those flowers, like everything else on this island it seemed, were exceptionally dangerous.
Albus continued to lead Fairhart away from the battle, the noises of the struggle thinning out more and more with every step. He realized that he was having trouble supporting Fairhart's weight, and only after a few moments of thinking did he realize that his ankle was still stiff. He could hardly complain though; not with what had just happened to Fairhart.
None of what Albus saw was familiar, but Fairhart seemed to be aware of exactly where they were; perhaps he recognized his own wandwork, because he was waving his hand through the air forcefully as if to detect enchantments.
"Just a little further now..." Fairhart said hoarsely, his eyes still closed. "Keep going this way...stop!"
Albus stopped at once, and then felt relief on the the left side of his body. Fairhart had removed himself from his crutch and was now holding his wand up, pointing it randomly ahead of him. Slowly, he traced it through the air.
"What are-"
"We are at the trail" Fairhart said, and Albus stared at him in awe, not knowing how he could possibly be aware of this.
"Erm- can- can you see...?"
"No" Fairhart said, exhaling deeply. "But I can feel. Stand back now...if this backfires I want you out of the way..."
There was no point to objecting. Albus did as he was told, stepping back a few feet and allowing Fairhart to continue to make his wand movements. Often times he would jab it through the air and then pull it back, as though some sort of invisible wall was stopping any penetration. Albus watched with baited breath to see if Fairhart could break through-
"Okay" he said after a few more moments. "Come now..."
Albus glanced over his shoulder, the sounds of the battle from before now completely gone, the rain having halted as well. He followed Fairhart passed yet another thick tree, then through some more underbrush-
Finally, they hit a clear pathway. A straight road that looked like it had been mowed down of everything green. It was just a narrow passage of dirt and soil up ahead, the looming structure of Azkaban as clear as Albus had seen it so far, with no trees to conceal it.
From next to him, he felt Fairhart collapse.
"San!" Albus yelled out, sinking to his knees. He watched as Fairhart tried moving through his exhaustion. He was passing his wand over the gash on his left shoulder weakly, trying to heal the wound. It appeared to only be half-working. The flesh was healing, but it still appeared to be raw and sensitive.
"Here, let me-"
"It's okay, Albus" Fairhart said, sitting up and continuing to pass his wand over the skin. "Take a break. We'll get moving soon."
Albus stared at him with his mouth wide open.
"Can you- can you even see?"
"My sight will return soon" Fairhart said confidently.
"How do you-"
"Those flowers acted in self-defence. Had they been carnivorous, or anything of the sort, I'd have been paralyzed instead. My guess is that this is only temporary. Just give me a moment. Get some rest."
Albus didn't even bother nodding. He instead plopped down next to him, his shallow breathing the only sound that he could hear.
"That Chimaera saved our lives" Fairhart spoke up from next to him.
"Yeah, what was that all about?" Albus asked.
"I told you that they're territorial" Fairhart said lightly. "It saw the Silhouettes as a threat to its area, and it attacked. Good call on sparing it earlier. If you ever get to see your girlfriend again, thank her for me."
"If I ever get to see my girlfriend again, I'm going to do more than that" Albus said blandly. "After this place? Damn..."
Fairhart turned to him and smiled; the pink had still not left his eyes.
Albus didn't return the grin, instead turning to look at the prison again. They were free from the dangers of the island, for now at least, but what would this route bring them? He soaked in the ominous appearance of the towering structure, realizing, with a jolt, that everything was there. Darvy. His father. The Wand, the Veil, and the Book. All of it was closer than ever.
But as Albus looked down at the disheveled, battered image of Fairhart, he realized something else. Since they'd been here, they'd never been closer to failing either.