Never a good sign, he thought, when the crows showed up.

- Justin Cronin

Chapter 29

In Which Albus Fawns Over Sea Urchins

~ Albus ~

Spinalonga, Greece. A tiny island, on the northeast of Crete, which was a much larger island. The Island of the Lepers, that was how the Muggles called it. It hadn't housed any lepers for more than fifty years. Albus wondered how his parents had gotten the idea to travel there for vacation. It had left all three Potter children baffled.

Still, they were thrilled about it. The journey to the island was quite the adventure. First they drove to King's Cross Station. They parked the car in an alley and Harry cast a protective anti-theft spell over it, so it would be left undisturbed for the next two weeks. Then they found platform 5 ⅗. It turned out there were all kinds of platforms, whose existence Muggles were oblivious to, and plenty of them hosted trains to international destinations. On Platform 5 ⅗ a blue and black locomotive was waiting. Not particularly many wizards and witches were boarding and they were the only family in the train of 8:30. The train was named the Balkan Wanderer and it traveled through more countries of the Balkan Peninsula before winding up in Greece. It took them two days to get to Piraeus, which was the biggest port in the country. There they had to figure out the Muggle transport system and find the right bus to board on their ship from there. Albus realized how disorganized it was and wondered if Muggle busses in London were the same way. He hadn't had to use one yet.

The ship was a big, old cruise ship. They got comfortable in an overcrowded space filled with sofas and Lily Luna bought a packet overpriced popcorn to share with the boys. Every employee spoke English in an overexaggerated accent and all the announcements were also made in English so that was one problem gone.

"And where is this ship taking us?" James asked his parents.

"This will take us to Heraklion. It's one of the biggest cities of Crete according to this guide," Ginny explained, her nose buried in an English guide she had bought off the souvenir shop. She was dressed in a floral summer dress and flip flops. It was a rare sight to see their mother out of her witches' cloaks.

As it turned out, the Greeks had a very different perception of what a city was. London was about ten times bigger. Perhaps even twenty. That place was more like a town. A town with stoney fortress walls and impressive statues, but a town nonetheless. There was a dreamy look on James's eyes as he looked at the walls, tall and abandoned, with modern buildings built on top of some sections of them. Albus knew that his brother was craving to run across the most dangerous parts or climb to the tallest point to enjoy the view.

There were Muggle tourists everywhere. Especially Germans and Russians. The Potters didn't stay at the city long. They had a quick lunch at a tavern by the port, right at the base of the fortress's walls, where James couldn't climb, to his great disappointment. Then they asked for instructions and found the Muggle bus station that took them to the next city, where they found a boat to Spinalonga.

Spinalonga was even smaller than Albus had imagined.

"Dad? Is that island like the one where the Dursleys had taken you? The one with the lighthouse?" Albus asked.

Something flashed on Harry's eyes as he recalled his unpleasant trip with his uncle and aunt. He chuckled. "Nothing like it on so many levels." The five of them stood at the railing of the roaring, gasoline-powered boat, watching the small island become bigger, it's walls coming closer and looking taller and taller. What possible way would there be for walls to surround such a tiny place? Was it made to keep something out? Or someone in?

Harry and Ginny had explained to their children they they had chosen that place because it had both great weather and a secret Wizarding community for them to visit there. Albus kept wondering where the wizards fit on this tiny island and how their buildings were separated from the locals and the hordes of tourists pouring on the island every hour, taken there by little boats just like the one the Potters were on.

Ginny chuckled when he asked her all those things. "Albus, it's not much different than the way Diagon Alley or our additional train platforms are hidden in plain sight. Muggles are clueless and it works well for both sides." A gust of wind blew harshly, struggling to tear away Ginny's huge, straw hat. She held on to it tightly until the boat stopped moving and they could disembark.

The sun was sweltering hot over their heads, licking their pale arms and legs with its flaming rays. The definition of a warm day was also different for the Greeks. All of their summer consisted of no rain and bright sunlight from the crack of dawn until three hours before midnight. It was less humid than London too, although they were right by the sea. Albus took a sip of water from his bottle. Much to his dismay, it was already almost empty.

"I expect Africa to me much like Greece," James announced, rooting one sandal-doned foot on a yellow rock. He placed a hand over his eyes, scanning the horizon, looking much like an explorer of the old times. He had dug out an old safari hat from the attic in 12 Grimmauld Place and insisted on wearing it despite the endless fits of laughter it caused Albus and Lily Luna.

"Africa is different than Greece. My parents took us to Cairo back when we were still going to school. Egypt had sand, sand, sand everywhere and the heat hardly let you stand. I can't tell about Uagadou though," Ginny explained.

"Oh, that's a bit disappointing." James's cheeks were as flushed as they could get, but Albus knew that he wouldn't admit the heat was bothering him even if he dropped dead because of it.

"How about we discuss all that under the shade of our room's balcony once we get there?" Harry asked, placing a sweaty hand on the shoulders of each of his sons. "We're nearly there."

As the Potters began to trail down the path to the ticket booth with their suitcases rolling behind them, they received strange looks by guides and tourists alike. They weren't wearing odd clothes - except for James's safari hat - and they hadn't spoken aloud by anything profoundly magical that would discombobulate the muggles. The answer lay to their baggage. None of the other visitors of the island were carrying anything larger than backpacks. Albus followed closely after his parents, clutching the handle of his suitcase until they reached the cashier. They paid for tickets to enter the abandoned settlement inside walls, which were considered an 'archaeological site' and they moved to a different line to enter the site, surrounded by endless groups of tourists.

Inside the walls it was starting to look like a small city. The old kind of a city, like those one could see in a historical movie with traditional buildings all over. They walked down a narrow path with shops on both sides with Greek labels they couldn't understand and with each shop's doors and windows painted in a different colour. James cursed under his breath about not having his 'student exchange translating ring' that would probably allow him to understand the meaning of all this Greek. He couldn't resist saying, "It's all Greek to me," as they walked by.

Guides stopped left and right wherever there was the slightest space to gather their group and explain historical details in all languages imaginable. There were dozens of English-speaking guides, yet Albus could make out none of the words as they mingled with a cacophony of German, French, Italian, Russian and Spanish. His head was starting to buzz. He clutched the wand he was not allowed to use in his pocket and moved forward. Rose would have probably cast a muffling spell to herself already.

They all came to a halt at an uninteresting spot, where the town nearly ended and there was only a neglected path with overgrown barbary fig spreading in all directions. Harry pulled out a map. He and Ginny were poring over it, pointing on different locations. After a few minutes of contemplation and quiet dispute, the couple agreed on where they should be heading. They led the children up a hill covered in cacti until they reached a small stone frame that was placed in the middle of nowhere. It was as if it grew out of the depths of the hill and it was sealed with a narrow, wooden door with an iron handle.

Ginny stepped forward and knocked thrice in a quick rhythm, then mumbled a spell and blew twice on the rustling handle. With a click the door gave in and the family hurried inside, before any prying Muggle eyes saw them entering a small wooden door past an area cut off with ropes and a sign saying "Please stay outside the roped perimeter".

They walked in a beeline for a couple of minutes, the wheels of their suitcases echoing as they met the narrow walls around them. Albus felt that gut-wrenching feeling he had when he had thought he and Rose would miss the sorting ceremony, lost in an unknown tunnel behind the Great Hall. Unlike then, the bright, hot day awaited for them at the exit, where it was as if they had stepped onto the island in a whole different time. The buildings were in excellent shape, made of the same stone as they were in the archaeological site, with all doors and windows painted in bright colours and pergolas with honeysuckle creating little havens of shade on the bustling alleys. The alleys were paved with stone, smoothened by the salt and the wind and enchanted crates with various contents flew off to their business without crashing against any of the wizards strolling about.

The people on that side of the door were quite a sight to behold. They were curiosities for both Muggle and wizard standards in the Potters' eyes, for the Greek wizards were nothing like the British ones they knew. They were donned in thin clothing of all shades of colours, short sleeved shirts and khaki shorts or skirts and the straps of bikini tops were visibly tied behind many womens' necks. Flip flops were the most common footgear and there were even some people walking barefoot.

Not all of them were easy on the eyes. Some people looked so horrendous they took Albus by surprise and he flinched, but tried to conceal it by looking down. Harry and Ginny had chosen Spinalonga because it was a special place. Besides being a great destination because of its fine weather and the community of wizards and witches residing there, there was something unique taking place on that island. For the European Wizarding world, Spinalonga was the center of medical breakthroughs regarding the rarest diseases a wizard could ail from. The Island might not be a community for lepers anymore, but for the wizards it was still a place where all kinds of oddities were welcome.

There were people with animal limbs where human skin should be and people whose hair grew endlessly and stirred ceaselessly as they walked. There were cursed people too, followed by constant rain clouds or an aura that perished everything in their way. That wasn't all. There were people whose torsos were hardening into tree trunks and children whose tears turned into diamonds. There were many more, people the Potters never met during their stay there.

Harry asked a boy with a hawk-like nose and misshapen fingers about directions and he pointed them to the right directions to find their hotel. The woman at the front desk handed them the key and sent their luggage up the stairs with a wave of her wand. The kids hadn't realized how tired they had gotten from carrying them, until they were rid of the additional weight. The room wasn't too large, but it would do nicely for the five of them. James claimed the bed next to the window and Lily Luna chose the one in the middle. At least the one left for Albus had an end table to set his glasses on.

The balcony was made of wood and was quite narrow, but five iron chairs were set out for them and five glasses of orange juice awaited for them on the table. James stripped off his shirt and nearly hung over the balcony's railing to look down below. Albus blushed in embarrassment at his brother's behaviour and sat on the chair farthest from the railing. His sister could be heard making sounds of amazement of everything around the room, from the sofas to the kitchenware.

Ginny hung her straw hat from a hook and came to sit between her boys. "What do you think?" she asked, taking a sip of juice.

"When can we go to the beach?" James asked.

"Let's eat now and we'll go in the afternoon," she said.

"What?! But we'll have to wait for three hours after eating!" he exclaimed. His eyes followed an old man who's balding pate was speckled with sprouting clover flowers.

"James. Food now. Swimming later." The kids knew that when Ginny spoke like this, her wish was their command. It was non-negotiable.

The sea was amazing. The sun warmed it up all day and it still shone when they went to the beach at six in the afternoon. The shore was covered in grey and white pebbles washed out by the centuries of exposure to the sun and sea, but farther in it turned into powdery thin sand, shaped by the currents like an underwater desert.

The boys couldn't get enough of exploring the sea floor. James had been begging for a few clumps of gillyweed since before they left England, but Harry and Ginny had brushed him off, saying that encasing their heads in a bubble of air should be enough. Lily preferred swimming near the surface, flopping her feet about while keeping them tightly together. She was a merwoman, that's what she kept telling the boys.

James emerged out of the water looking like a sea monster covered in pink and brown curly seaweed. He swam around Albus, pinching him on either side at the same time.

"You can't scare me if I see you coming, James," Albus said, sounding eerily like Harry at that moment. When he actually saw what his brother looked like through his muddled vision, he knew that James would have startled him if he had emerged from the water slowly from the front. He could hardly recognize his brother's face under the wig of sea flora.

"Blimey!" James exclaimed, punching his hand against the calm waters. He grumbled something incoherent and then said, more clearly, "I saw a merchant selling gillyweed on our way here. It was so cheap too! Let's tell Mum and Dad we'll go exploring later and buy some in secret."

"You're still going on about the gillyweed?"

"Of course I am."

Of course you are. "And what are you going to do when they see the gills on the sides of your neck?"

"Let's ponder on the matters of the future in the future."

"Will you have a better idea in the future?" Albus asked with a scowl.

"We'll grab our towels as soon as we get to the shore. See? Problem solved."

Albus sighed. Mum would instantly suspect there was something fishy going on when both of them went straight for their towels. "Why do you want to use it anyway? The air bubbles work fine." Albus pinched his bubble to prove his point. It wavered, the sunlight gleaming against it, but it didn't burst.

"They're lame. Did you see those French kids over there? They're using gillyweed. Besides, Dad rescued not one, but two people in the Triwizard Tournament using gillyweed."

"And your point is? Is there someone to rescue?"

"We could try drowning Lils and save her after that." Albus looked at his brother incredulously. "That was supposed to be a joke."

"Unicorns gracious, James, one can never know with you."

Ignoring his brother's comment, James raised his pointer finger in the air. Oh, great, another brilliant idea, Albus thought. "I forgot the strongest argument of them all."

"What's that?"

"When parents say don't, that's when you have to do it."

Albus rolled his eyes and dove underwater again. By habit he held his breath although he didn't need to and closed his eyes as he went under the line that split the sea from the sky. The water was clear, a shade of aquamarine printed on postcards. It was more brilliant than the Black Lake on its brighter day. Schools of fish swam by, coloured blue and green and orange, creating a ring around the boy.

He headed for the sandy bottom, searching for sea urchins. He had never had any urchin shells and he wanted to bring home as many as his bag could fit. There were yellow and orange, green and grey, pink and purple. There were also some that were a dull grey but had the trace of a while starfish on top. He stuffed his swimsuit's pockets with as many as they could fit and swam like a frog towards the shore to deposit his plunder.

He could hear James's yowling even when he set his foot on the beach. He had gone to introduce himself to the French kids who had sprouted gills on their necks. He'll ask for some for sure, Albus mused and piled carefully his loot in a plastic bowl.

"Al, come here," Ginny called, who had sought refuge under a striped umbrella. She took out of her sea bag a bottle of sunscreen and started spreading it over her son's shoulders and arms.

"Mom, I'm good," Albus said in a mortified voice, trying to escape her clutch.

"Oh, hush! You might have Potter hair, but you have the Weasley complexion. Sit still now unless you'd rather spend the rest of your days in the hotel, all of your body aching and peeling."

Albus groaned and sat on the edge of Ginny's towel, allowing his mother to turn him into the silly Brit tourist, who would be smudged with white. He had been thrilled for this trip, and he could not allow his Weasley complexion get in the way of it.

At the end of the first week Albus had exchanged more than ten letters with Rose and another seven with Scorpius. Rose was always like that; the way she wrote her letters was a little like Muggle texting. She wrote short letters and owled as many as Pigwidgeon could manage to carry. Rose's first letters came late, all three of them bound by a single string at the island's dispersal centre. No one had known where this Albus Potter stayed and whether he was a tourist or a new arrival of a cursed wizard. By Thursday though, the lady at the hotel's front got Albus's mail and brought it to him with his breakfast.

"I bet she's reading your letters in secret, before bringing them over," James said on Saturday morning as he wolfed down his scrambled eggs. Albus waned at the thought.

"James!" Ginny set her cup of tea noisily on the table. "Don't talk like that."

"Your mother is right," Harry said, flipping through the Quibbler's front pages. "Mrs. Ismene has been very hospitable with us."

"I'm just sayin-" James paused, when Mrs. Ismene came over to refill the boys' glasses with orange juice. "People aren't that nice, not without a reason. It is suspicious, isn't it?"

Lily giggled. "It's suspicious to you, because you're nice only when you're up to something."

"What makes you say that?" James asked, as if offended. "I have been a perfect example of proper behaviour befitting a Hogwarts student. Ask any of my professors." He flourished his fork for emphasis.

"What if I ask Roxanne?" Lily sing-sung, smiling impishly.

James burst forward, slapping his palms against his sister's mouth to muzzle her. Albus took this opportunity to open his letter from Rose.

Hi, Al,

Hope you're having fun on the island. Don't forget what we have to do tonight. Hopefully Pigwidgeon won't lose the way again. I sent you another letter yesterday at noon and an Egyptian witch answered back. Her letter was pretty amusing and she said she wants to be my penpal.

Anyway, Scorpius and I are ready and will take out our leaves once the moon shows in the sky. You're two hours ahead of us so perhaps you'll do that even sooner. Send us a letter to know you haven't run into any trouble. Scorpius said he tried keeping a laurel leaf in his mouth for practice and it's really tricky to hide it under his tongue. Be careful not to lose yours in the sea.

I started writing Cemola's paper on harpies. I think I'm a couple of meters past what she asked. Do you think she will mind? I think I will do Transfigurations next. This summer is so boring! And I'd ask Dad to take me to the Burrow to practice Quidditch with Freddy and Roxanne, but after what Scorpius said about the leaves, I'm worried I might swallow mine accidentally while flying.

Scorpius seems a little down. I think his Mum isn't getting any better. Did he tell you she was sick? I'm not sure what is going on with his family. I'm thinking our parents might know, but I don't want to ask. I'm not sure if I should ask Scorpius either. Do you think he'll get offended?

Oh, Hugo says hi to Lily, again. Don't forget to tell her. I'll be waiting for your letter!

Rose

When Albus folded the letter and shoved it in the pocket of his shorts, James was tugging at Lily's braids and Lily was crying. "Alright, that's it. Let's take a break," Harry said and magically pulled the children apart. Lily whined to Ginny, pressing her face to her mother's neck, and James went back to eating his breakfast.

"I'm going up in the room." Albus stood up. "I forgot to take something."

On his way to the stairs he walked past two strange looking men; one had the face of a bird, with feathers growing at the base of his nose and the other one had a skin with an ashen tinge, like a vampire. He was no vampire though, as his eyes were a warm hazel and he walked in the sunlight perfectly fine. Albus did his best not to stare as he rummaged through his pocket for the key. The door opened with a soft click and he marched straight for his suitcase.

The mandrake leaf had been preserved perfectly in the stinky potion. Albus prayed silently that the potion wasn't even stinky anymore. If it was, he knew not what power could convince him to put the disgusting thing in his mouth. He had been checking his watch at night time,to know the hour when the sky was truly gone dark; the moon would be fully visible at ten according to his calculations and his astronomic knowledge. He positioned the bottle between two pairs of folded shorts to retrieve it faster when the time came.

He looked around the room, searching for the thing he would use as his excuse for going up. Plastic buckets for the sea? No. They weren't going there yet. Beach towel? Nope. Wand? Nah… His eyes came to rest on his glasses by the end table. Without Rose to enchant them, Albus had chosen not to use them rather than walk out wearing them in public. He gulped uneasily. He didn't want to take them, but he was out of ideas.

"Rose and Scorpius are going to pay for this when I see them again…" he grumbled and picked up the green frames. He hesitated for a second and the insides of his palms began to sweat. "Oh, the things I do for them." He put the glasses on. Secretly he knew he wanted to become an animagus as much as his friends did, if not more. This was as much for them as it was for him too.

The glass vial was radiating cold through the thin fabric of Albus's pocket. He checked if the coast was clear. Harry and Ginny were having Pan's Honeyed Wine on the balcony and James and Lily were spending time with those French kids they had met on the beach. They were the same kids James had gone to talk to to borrow some gillyweed. Apparently they hadn't been using any; they had come to the island to see if there was a cure for their condition. The father and all of the children of the family had gills on the sides of their necks, which occasionally gave them trouble when they had to breathe outside the water.

For James's standards they had been categorized as way too cool and he met with them every evening. Moses and Abraham were nice boys and their younger sister, Sarah, got along nicely with Lily Luna. It had been very difficult for Albus to come up with a good excuse to slip past his parents and siblings to roam the settlement's alleys on his own. He told his parents he'd go with James and Lily, and then he told James and Lily he was feeling ill so he'd go back to his parents. He could only wish they wouldn't compare notes anytime soon.

Lanterns burned orange flames along the settlement, bathing the alleys in a warm light. Albus moved quickly, trying to stay alert. He didn't want to look suspicious; he struggled not to glance over his shoulder. A few taverns were serving food and drinks and the patrons sung along to the live music. A waitress, who knew Albus before, invited him in for a piece of mousaka on the house. He blushed and kindly refused her offer.

He kept going until the hubbub had faded behind him in a low hum. He was close to the crossing to the Muggle side of the island. He planted his feet for a second, having second thoughts. The moon was still rising and the sky was a few shades lighter than pitch black.

No. This has to be done.

With a decisive stride he started heading for the trapdoor sprouting out of the side of the hill. Someone cackled ahead. Albus looked up, his eyes raking through the darkness. He spotted the shadowy figure of a man up on the hill, perched on a protruding rock like a vulture. The man turned and for a second, it was as if he bore a beak.

Nah. It must be a very crooked nose, Albus reasoned. What he forgot was, that he was in quite the right place for men to have beaks instead of crooked noses.

"Heh, heh," the man said from his elevated position. "It's a fine full moon rising tonight, isn't it?"

Albus glanced at the moon restlessly. The heavenly body looked like a superfluous disk of cheese, near enough you'd think cutting a piece of it might be possible. He could see why men thought the moon was made of cheese. It made perfect sense.

"Shy, are you? Don't be. You and me, we understand each other. We've met."

The boy shifted from one foot to another. Maybe this was all a bad idea. Perhaps he should go find James and Lily. "With all due respect, sir, I don't think we have."

"Oh, we have. It was only this morning that we did."

The man turned to the moon and his eyes reflected the golden shade of it. He saw the tips of the feathers framing his nose, beautifully iridescent in the moonlight. Albus recognized him then, from the stairs that morning. He had been going down along with that other man, who looked like a vampire. "I… I think I should get going, sir."

The hairs in Albus's arms rose, but the soft sea breeze wasn't enough to make him chilly. Warning bells rung inside his head. Nobody knows where I am. They won't find me if I go missing. Not easily at least.

"I've spooked you."

That's an understatement, Albus thought. He managed to shake his head. Admitting it to the spooky guy wouldn't do him much good.

"I'm sorry, that was not my intention. I tend to... Act a little like an old crow from time to time. The night creates a nasty combination with my looks. I thought you realised how I came to look that way when you crossed me at the hallway. I mean, I saw that strange claw growing on your foot. Apparently I was wrong."

Albus curled his toes self-consciously. It had been a miracle his parents hadn't grilled him with questions when he revealed it on the beach. Mr. Know-It-All, also known as James, decided it had been a misfired curse cast by Goyle, and Albus had played along, despite the fact that Quincy Goyle had never managed to fire a proper curse in his time at Hogwarts. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Then you wouldn't know what that mandrake leaf you're keeping in your pocket can do tonight, can you?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Takes an animagus to know one."

Albus let out a hissing breath. His face started turning red at the accusation. "You are no animagus."

The crow-man widened his golden eyes. "Oh, look at that! Neither are you! Heh, heh. But we both aspire to be that. Or used to aspire would be more proper in my case." He raised his right arm, which was speckled with sprouting feathers, and turned it towards his face, as if planning to pick on his nose. He plucked out a couple of feathers instead. "A friend thought it might be fun to hand me over the wrong instructions. He had a good laugh until he realised the damage was irreversible." The man let the plucked feathers be carried by the breeze. They swirled in the air, floating towards the other side of the island.

"I don't regret trying it, kid, but I wanted to give you a fair warning. Do you trust those instructions you've got?"

Did he? Should he? After all, Sirius's journals had fooled them once. What if reading the pages in the sunlight was yet another trick? What if there was a third set of instructions, revealed in another way? Or perhaps just a note saying they'd all been punked all along? But no. He had to show good faith. "I do. They're from a reliable source."

"Good then. Heh. Have fun. And brace yourself. I hope you enjoyed your last meal, because that leaf will ruin your sense of taste until you spit it out again. Fair warning."

Albus's eyes darted from the man to the trapdoor. "Uh… thank you. I really need to go now."

The crow-man nodded. "Alright." He raised one arm in a half-wave.

Albus went to the door, but then hesitated with the handle between his fingers. "Your… condition… isn't it curable? Even here?"

He let out a cackling laughter again. "Ah, you're funny, boy. You ain't even seen what my other hand looks like." He rose his left hand, which had no discernible fingers. It was more of a wing than an arm. "Did you know many of a bird's bones are hollow? They have air in them instead, to assist them in flight. This thing…" He waved his wing-arm a little. "Keeps throwing me off balance.

"I implore you. Get it right the first time. For your sake. But don't worry too much about it. Those folks over here, they're constantly discovering new cures. They'll get to it eventually. I'll be in the right place when they do." There was a cracking sound as the crow-man apparated out of sight.

Albus took that as his cue to hurry. He blindly walked through the tunnel to the Muggle side and opened the door. This part of the island was deserted. No Muggle inhabited it any longer, and the employees of the archaeological site had taken the last boat to the main island. Albus started climbing the hill, towards the stone crown of the old fort. It was a circular construction of stone, where the moonlight cast strange shadows.

He moved higher, going up carefully a few more stairs, which were old and slippery and in serious need of a banister. From up there he could see the tourist paths that had been cleared through the site, circling around the small island. He could spot the marina where their boat had been anchored and the ticket booths. The deserted settlement was dark, the whistling wind reminding of the abandonment of it and haunting ghosts that might linger. There was something ceremonial about it.

Despite the trouble he had to go through to get their plan into motion, he didn't mind his first step to turning into an animal would happen here.

He retrieved the small vial from his pocket. It had gained his body's temperature by then. He uncorked it, wrinkling his nose at the scent. It had grown considerably fainter, but it wasn't completely gone. He stared at the cheese-like moon and spilled the remnants of the conserving potion on the ground, until only the leaf remained inside. He touched it with two fingers and noticed how slimmier it felt compared to the day they had cut it.

"I hope I get it right from the first time too, Mr. Crow-Man," Albus whispered uncertainly. He closed his eyes and put the leaf in his mouth.

He nearly gagged at the taste. It was sharp and made his tongue go numb, but he willed himself not to spit it out. He pushed it with his tongue left, then right, then left again. He swirled it there until the taste wasn't as horrid and getting rid of it wasn't his first instinct. Looking at the weak, little waves helped too. They were a great distraction. He tried speaking, testing out the words in his mouth. He realised he could speak almost normally if he tucked the leaf under his tongue. He tried things over and over, rehearsed simple conversations and how to avoid accidentally swallowing the leaf for a good hour or so.

Then he whistled - or at least tried to whistle - and Octavia came, her black eyes looking at him inquisitively. He gave her a treat as he scribbled down an answer to Rose's letter in the same parchment. He didn't want the letter to stay in his possession anyway, in case if fell to the wrong hands and ruined Albus's plan and his remaining days of vacation.

Rose.

All is well here. Phase one has started. I'll send you a proper letter tomorrow.

Albus

PS: Those leaves taste something nasty! A wise man told me: "Say goodbye to your sense of taste for the next month," or something along these lines anyway. He mustn't have been exaggerating after all.

Now all that Albus had to do was keep that foul-tasting thing in place for the next month. Without being discovered. Easy peasy. A month would be nothing.