Chapter Thirty-One

Arnold's Adventure

Arnold Jeffers had many difficult clients over the years; dark wizards, affluent wizards, and even an insane wizard or two. But none of them... not even the worst of them, was more difficult than his own father. His father had been a counselor as well, of course, and had gotten his start by joining a well-known practice after doing a favor for Lucius Malfoy. It had been a double-edged sword, since it raised both his social standing and his notoriety at the same time, but the cases that followed had brought him a lot of wealth that he wouldn't have gotten had he started in any other practice. But when Malfoy sacked him, the clients quickly dried up. His reputation and association with dark wizards made it impossible to get the cases that he had beforehand, and he found himself making most of his living on retainers with businesses who trusted him to write up legal documents and mediate contracts. A fair living to be sure, and it only increased the family's wealth, but it was obvious after growing up in that house that his father was less than satisfied with the direction of his career. As a member of Equinox, he was also still called upon to help with the paperwork needed to obtain and legally store artifacts.

So it came as no surprise, really, that once Arnold Jeffers got into practice, one of his very first jobs was to do the same sort of paperwork for the Collector's Society. Abraxas Coventry had given him his start and had been his first wealthy client, taking him under his wing in an attempt to steer him away from his father's reputation and questionable dark wizard clients. Helping Abraxas with all the bylaws of heirlooms and artifacts was tedious work that involved plenty of research and too many hours in both the Artifacts Department and the Law Enforcement Ministry. But the work paid well, and it was not long before Arnold had enough saved that he could break free from his father's practice and open an office of his own. Unfortunately, after his father retired, it wasn't long before his old clients began calling. He turned down the worst of them; and the ones he agreed to take on, he often regretted.

And now he felt himself getting pulled into his father's business again, he thought with a sigh. He studied the note in his hand and then stepped into the Painted Lands Resort, taking a moment to stare out at the lake to reorient himself to his new surroundings. Even in November, it was as warm as summer, and light gleamed off the water as the sun beat off the desert landscape. The sun was persistent... almost obnoxiously so, and it seemed to him a very strange place for his father to be. He had never liked travel. He had never liked going anywhere where the chance of bumping into a Muggle was so high.

Arnold had successfully argued to his father that he required an in person signature to finally get the old man to tell him his whereabouts. He had just been using the excuse to try and find out what was going on, and found out that his fathers had teamed up with some of his own partners. That included Rummert, who had been in hiding as long as Arnold could remember, and yet appeared little different since Arnold last saw him. Perhaps the dry air had been good for him, Arnold mused. Arnold glanced at the bar but decided against it, going to the restaurant instead. He stared at the menu, then unable to make up his mind ordered several different things to try. He was just getting started when a familiar, tall, gangly figure approached wearing what appeared to be Muggle holiday clothes, complete with sunglasses.

"Hello, Adler. I should have guessed you were here as well," Arnold greeted.

"I have come to fetch you," Adler Bosworth told him.

"What, already? I thought I had an hour," Arnold complained, looking at all the food.

"Yes, well, it's rather complicated, really, but Arizona is an hour ahead of Las Vegas this time of year," Adler explained.

"Oh, well, I'm not going anywhere until I eat, so I'm going to keep being confused," Arnold decided. "Care to join me? There's plenty."

"Oh! All right," Adler said, ordering a drink when the waitress came back and a plate so they could sort out who was getting what. "Just so you know, I've never seen anyone in America eat like this, outside of Asian restaurants."

"I figured since I have to be here, I might as well sample everything. I've always been a bit of a food buff. The only reason I'm not more stout than I am is because I typically only eat lunch, but I've had lots of chances going to all sorts of places thanks to my different clients' tastes," Arnold explained. "And I burn most of it off trying to keep up with them. Speaking of which, where's my father? I have documents for him to sign."

"Waiting for us," Adler said vaguely, continuing to eat. Reluctantly skipping desert, Arnold paid for the check. Adler immediately put money on the table for a tip before the two of them left.

"I take it you've been down here since you came up 'missing,'" Arnold conjectured, seeing how comfortable Adler had become with the situation.

"I was in danger there," Adler explained when they got outside.

"Because of Don Coventry?" Arnold asked.

"Besides others, yes. But we shouldn't be talking about this here. I've had an odd feeling that someone has been watching lately," Adler said, lowering his voice.

"Are you sure you don't just feel that way because you don't want to be watched?" Arnold asked skeptically.

"No, not completely sure," Adler admitted, walking him over to an elevator at the end of the bridge and going down a level and then leading him under the reconstructed bridge and over to a gift shop. The shop itself reminded him of the flag shop he had often visited in London that was part of the Portkey system. In fact, it could have even been the same owner, Arnold mused, glancing at the cashier, who nodded to him.

Adler didn't bother even looking at the cashier. He simply worked his way through the cluttered narrow shop to the back room and to another elevator which only had one button.

"Isn't it freezing cold today?" Adler said. Arnold stared at him for a moment, but Adler was looking at the elevator button, watching as a second button appeared underneath it. Arnold glanced over as Adler pushed it, smirking slightly when he realized that Adler's question was actually the password. Down they went, the elevator creaking and the sound of water, finally opening to a short stone corridor.

Much to Arnold's surprise, it opened up into a large lobby with several adjacent offices. Each of them had windows facing the open space in the center of the room where there were several dusty metal tables surrounded by metal chairs.

"This looks like a school of some sort," Arnold commented out loud in surprise.

"I'm told it used to be a private two-year Wizardry college," Adler replied. "There are a lot of them over here. They're not full-sized schools like we're used to, but more like a cram school for students who want to pass their NEWTS or prep for magical specialties. This one was focused mostly on learning practical arts," he explained. "The company that ran this particular school went bankrupt some years ago, and Rummert bought it. It's large enough to accommodate a fair number of our members and run experiments."

"Is my father living here? Wait, what sort of experiments?" Arnold asked suspiciously, but Adler simply led him further in to what might have been a cafeteria. It had been renovated into a space that looked more like an upscale wizard's pub. Arnold noted several familiar faces sitting among the tables, but his eyes quickly found his father, who jumped up from a booth where he had been sitting by himself.

"Ah, Arnold! At last!" he called out, beckoning them over.

"Sorry about the delay, Earl. He was eating at the hotel when I got there," Adler explained. "I'll go get us some drinks."

"Fine, fine," Earl said, eager to see his son. "Come sit down, we need to talk."

"You keep saying that, but every time I've tried to talk to you in Las Vegas, you never say anything. I have your visa and estate paperwork that you wanted me to bring."

"Yes, yes, there's time enough for that," Earl said, waving the envelope away.

"Maybe there is for you, but I have to get back. I have other clients, you know," Arnold reminded him.

"After you hear what I say, you may not want to go back," Earl said enigmatically.

"You know, Father, I may not know what's going yet, but all in all, this place gives me the creeps. If you're all staying here like it's some sort of commune, it's making me think that this has become less of an order and more like a cult," Arnold whispered.

"Arnold, you're a counselor. You of all people know not to make those sorts of snap judgments," Earl chided him. "You must get the facts first!"

"At least you said facts, and not truth," Arnold said dryly. "If you had, I'd know you were in a cult. Either way, I'd rather you come home now. I think selling the house is premature, but if you still want to, I have plenty of room..."

"Don't be ridiculous! You treat me almost like I'm an invalid, but nothing could be farther from the truth," Earl said in agitation.

Adler came over with some drinks, glancing between them.

"Too soon? Am I interrupting?" Adler asked,

"How could you interrupt when my son isn't listening?" Earl snapped. Adler put down the drink tray and sat down, pulling over one of the teacups.

"So you told him then?" Adler inquired.

"No, he's simply attempting to get me to come home again," Earl explained.

"Ah."

"Can't we have this conversation without an audience? Every time I see you you're with someone else these days," Arnold complained, glaring at Adler as if willing him to go away. Adler simply ignored him and prepared his tea.

"I have nothing to hide," Earl said.

"Oh? Then why are we here?" Arnold demanded.

"I meant from the rest of my order," Earl explained.

"Arnold, do have some tea, you seem to be quite worked up at the moment," Adler advised.

"Yes, and I have every reason."

"Arnold, you are not my keeper, as much as you try to be," Earl said calmly. "I know what I'm doing."

"Oh? How can I be sure of that? As you say, I am missing some facts here," Arnold pointed out.

"Very well. The fact of the matter is that I really can't leave, even if you want me to. Even if I wanted to," Earl said bluntly. Arnold stared at him, wondering what he meant by that.

"Perhaps we should show him rather than tell him," Adler suggested.

"What? I'm not sure Walter would like that. He doesn't trust him yet," Earl said.

"I have a solution to that. I can bind him to an Agreement," Adler said. Arnold squinted.

"What kind of Agreement?" Arnold said.

"You will agree to keeping what you witness silent and not speak of it without my express permission," Adler said. "Really, you wouldn't have been able to leave the school without agreeing to it anyway, assuming they allow you to leave at all." Arnold's face drained of all color. "So you may as well make the Agreement with me rather than wait for someone else to do it. It's for your father's safety, after all."

"I don't see what his safety has to do with it," Arnold snapped. "I don't like this."

"I understand, but if you want to know what's going on, it's your only choice," Adler insisted.

"He's right. I don't know what will happen to you if you don't. Please do it, for me if nothing else," Earl begged.

"I'll do it, but I don't like this," Arnold said.

He felt uncomfortably alone, and he knew he was likely walking into a den of lions. He had skirted darkness so many times before, in spite of his upbringing, and in spite of his father. But now, it felt like his father was winning at last... he was finally being dragged in, and in a way that made him feel that it was going to take an incredible effort on his part to get himself and his father out of this alive. He voiced his part of the Agreement, only to hear it insisted that he repeated it again when his response was hesitant. The Agreement hit his head like a wave of pure resignation, and he had to fight the feeling off, knowing he would have to keep a level head no matter what happened next. Adler smiled thinly at him as the pressure eased.

"Very well, it is done. He can neither speak of what he sees or leave the area without my permission," Adler reported.

"I'm sorry about this Arnold, but you will soon see why all that was necessary," his father told him gently, getting up. "Come on! I'll race you to the Alchemy Lecture Hall," he said mischievously and took off running. Adler jumped up and ran after him to catch up, leaving the very surprised Arnold to race after them, quickly losing track of how many turns and corridors they took as they went. Perhaps if he had thought about it, he would have realized that was probably the point; to keep him from finding the lab again on his own. But Arnold wasn't thinking about it at all. He wasn't thinking about anything but seeing his father standing triumphantly at the door without even the slightest shortness of breath. Arnold, on the other hand, was huffing and puffing.

"I won!" Earl declared. "Really, Adler, I thought you had me for a moment."

"I might have, if you had given me some warning at the table that you were going to take off like that," Adler pointed out.

"Since when have you ever been able to run like that?" Arnold asked between pants. "You've not been off your cane in five years."

"Straight to the point! You really are more alike me than you know," Earl said cheerfully, earning a grimace in response.

Adler opened the door of the lecture hall and the three of them stepped in to see a small amphitheater. It had a three-tiered floor that could have fit at least five student lab tables when fully furnished, and a large platform at the front. The lecture platform had a potion lab, a podium, and a regular desk. Next to the far wall were several bubbling cauldrons and a small ingredient shelf that was packed with random ingredients. On top of the desk was a small padlocked box which was attached to a giant magic chain that was fastened to the floor.

Next to the box was a tray with several different mineral samples, and as they approached, Arnold saw that they looked strangely transformed with bits of gold and green in each dark rock. Arnold stopped dead in his tracks, staring at them. Was this what he thought it was about? He glanced at the box with a frown, but became distracted when a wizard standing next to one of the cauldrons turned around and stared at them.

"What is he doing here?" Walter Rummert demanded, scowling at Arnold.

"Don't worry, Walter, I bound him," Adler replied unconcernedly.

"I thought we agreed he'd be an outside contact only!" Rummert snapped.

"He kept insisting," Earl explained. "Surely you can see why the boy was worried about me, even with all the reassurances we gave him. He just wouldn't take no for an answer."

"And you helped him?" Walter asked, frowning at Adler.

"He's safer in here considering what's going on, Walter. He was travelling back and forth too many times. What if Snape or the Ministry started getting suspicious and decided to find out where he's been going?" Adler pointed out.

"You are giving them way too much credit," Walter said. "They would never have gotten past Las Vegas, and they certainly wouldn't be looking for us here. But now that he's going to turn up missing, they will start to ask questions."

"I'm sure they've started to ask questions no matter which of us disappeared," Adler said. "Especially me, of course." Walter rolled his eyes at that.

"I'm understanding now why Draco didn't want you as LE Minister. You're far too opinionated of yourself."

"True, but then so are you," Adler observed.

"Please! Please! I didn't bring him here to argue. I brought him to you because he's here and he needs to know the facts. He thinks I'm in danger, Walter," Earl explained. Walter sighed, eyeing his cauldron and lowering the flames before turning his gaze at Arnold.

"Your father isn't in any danger as long as he stays here,"Walter said. "In fact, he would have been better off here even if I hadn't run into problems."

"Does this something have to do with why you look twenty years younger than my father when you're the same age? And why your cheeks are so hollow?" Arnold asked critically. Walter's face darkened, then walked over to the chest.

"He's quick," Walter told Earl. "In fact, with his observation skills, he's probably a better counselor than you were."

"He is," Adler agreed, earning a dirty look from Earl. "No offense meant," he added. "But I have worked with him. He's nearly as observant as an LE officer, though not as observant as I am, of course. Still, it's obvious that he's figured out what's going on, isn't it?"

"It's just a guess, but I would say you're attempting to recreate the Philosopher's Stone," Arnold said.

Walter put his hand on the box and the heavy lock fell off. He took out a heavy crystal about the size of his fist and set it on the desk. Even though it was a similar size and shape to the real Stone, Arnold couldn't help but note that the stone was dark green, growing even darker in the very center.

"It's the wrong color," Arnold said with surprise, picking it up. "The weight is right, the size, and feel. But the real Stone was a smoky red color."

"Just how do you know that?" Walter demanded.

"Easy. I'm Sirius Black's lawyer," Arnold said with a shrug. "I've seen the original, and even had an opportunity to hold it in my hand," he explained, putting the green one back down. "Before it was destroyed, of course."

"So you were the counselor who had the Stone destroyed," Walter said flatly. He stared at Arnold, who met his gaze evenly. Earl glanced over at Walter worriedly. "I don't know how I feel about that," he murmured.

"It wasn't my decision, it was Black's. I was simply doing my job," Arnold said with a shrug. "The Stone was dangerous, and it caused my client a personal injury. He's the one who decided to destroy it. Look at it this way, at least it's not in Snape's hands any longer."

"Yes, I agree, although it's too bad Black hadn't kept it. We might have had a chance to figure out what is wrong with this one," Walter muttered, staring at it.

"Other than the wrong color, you mean," Arnold said. "Do you mind if I ask just how it is that you've even got this far? I know you've been gone from Britain a few years, but you were a counselor, not an alchemist. Creating something of this complexity needs decades of dedicated experimentation by a trained alchemist to even get as far as you've gotten."

"Ah! Well, I had a bit of a head start, you see," Walter said with an enigmatic smile. "We are, after all, a branch of Equinox, tasked with protecting heirlooms and relics of the past, including magical scripts and tomes."

"That much I know already, being in the Collector's Society," Arnold reminded him.

"Yes, well, as it so happens, one of the things we have been protecting is what I've been using to create this. You see, we have the entire collection of Nicholas Flammel's original notes and scrolls. It includes all of his alchemist notations dedicated to the creation of the Stone," Walter explained with a proud grin. "I was entrusted these notes by one of my clients, so that they would stay out of greedy hands while its ownership was in litigation. You see, Counselor Vallid was involved in the property dispute after Flammel's death, and my client wanted to make certain it was tucked away out of her reach. But a year later, Lucius Malfoy was dead, and that case never got resolved entirely," Walter explained. "I knew that Lucius would have wanted Eclipse to keep them, of course. That's when I started going through them to archive them while we were searching for an appropriate hiding place. But the more that I looked at them, the more interested I became. I researched notations I didn't know, and even rescribed parts of it in English. That's when I realized that I had enough information between all the transcribed notes to make a stone myself! So, after telling your father and Bowyer that I was leaving to safeguard the notes, I took them out of the country. I had no connections here, nor did I believe anyone would look for me here. In fact, it wasn't long after I left that I learned that no one even bothered looking at all."

Arnold didn't miss the coldness in his voice; despite the triumphant look on Rummert's face, Arnold could tell that it angered Rummert that he had been written off so quickly.

"So then you bought this place," Arnold prompted.

"No, not at first. I moved to Las Vegas, where I had enough connections that I could establish myself as a Muggle," Walter explained.

"I knew that much from what Father told me before, although I didn't know your pseudonym until we had dinner a few months ago. It was a bit of a risk putting your name on the reservation like that, though," Arnold said.

"Oh, nonsense. Everyone has forgotten about me back home. It isn't as if anyone is looking," Rummert reminded him.

"No one is looking for you, no, but they were looking for my father and the rest of the members who have joined you recently. It would have been better if the others hadn't started leaving so abruptly. Any excuse would have worked to explain why they left town. When wizards start to go missing, the Ministry is going to start asking questions," Arnold said sternly.

"There wasn't time for that... I explained that to you already. We had to protect ourselves from Coventry," Earl said. "With Abraxas dead, any one of us could have been next..."

"That murder was obviously someone with a personal vendetta, Father. It wasn't a personal threat to your own safety were worried about. You were more worried about what he knew. Being a member of Eclipse, I bet Don found out about Rummert being alive and what he was experimenting on. When Don murdered his father, with one of Bagman's assassins still in the house, no less, the rest of the order got worried that Bagman would find out. That is the real threat," Arnold concluded. "My father and Bowyer must have panicked and come straight to you since they knew how to contact you, and other high members of the Eclipse followed behind, especially those of you who suspected your servants might be one of Bagman's plants. As members found out what was going on, they also started "disappearing," especially after Sludgebat was murdered. He was murdered, wasn't he?" Arnold said, looking straight at Walter.

"No one will miss him," Walter shrugged. "I had to get some highly rare and questionable ingredients to make the stone. Unfortunately, he began to get suspicious to what I was up to and tried to blackmail me. By then, things had already gotten risky, and I had no choice to kill him. I nearly died from the attempt," he added, taking a phial. "Fortunately, I had this. You see? An Elixir of Life!"

"You made a working elixir? From this stone?" Arnold asked skeptically.

"I wouldn't be standing here right now if I hadn't," Walter said calmly. "I had no choice but to take a chance and down the experimental potion I had done that morning, and lo and behold, it cured me! There's only one problem with it, really... it doesn't last very long. You have to keep downing them, or the effects wear off. But while it's working," he said, pausing to drink one down. Soon the hollowness was gone in Walter's face, and within seconds, he looked five years younger. "The effects are quite dramatic."

"How long does it last, exactly?" Arnold frowned, glancing at his father and then back to Walter.

"It seems to depend on the person," Walter explained. "I need one every six hours. Your father only needs one every twenty-four hours or so."

"My father doesn't need that potion," Arnold snapped. "He simply wants to feel younger. Really, Father, I'd rather you not take it."

"But I feel so run down after I stop taking it. In fact, I feel much worse than before I started them," Earl explained.

"Unfortunately, that's been true for everyone who has been taking it so far, especially me," Walter admitted. "When the formula wears off, our health seems to decline. I've been working on a solution..." he said, nodding towards his cauldrons. "In fact, I really ought to get back to them."

"What happens to someone who stops taking them altogether?" Arnold demanded.

"I don't really know. Once they start truly showing adverse effects, I give them another one to keep from finding out," Rummert said.

"What a ridiculous mess you've gotten yourselves into! You can tell you're not alchemists!" Arnold declared.

"So? Neither are you," Earl chided him.

"No, I'm not, but I know enough not to take experimental potions or to get addicted to them, and I'm not entirely convinced that's not all it is. In fact, I think this is gone way too far, especially for something that was dangerous even when it was working properly. You need an expert to look at your work and to see if there's a safe way you can break out of this cycle you're in. If you don't, it's obviously not going to end well," Arnold warned. "Enough of this. One way or another, Father, you're coming home."

"You haven't heard a word we said," Earl said with exasperation. "I can't go home, Arnold. I'll need another dose as soon as this one wears off."

"Well, we'll see what Snape has to say about that. He may have some idea of how to get you out of this mess," Arnold said.

"What! We can't tell Snape about this, or anyone else! Bagman would surely hear about it," Earl flailed.

"Assuming that Don hasn't found a way to tip Bagman off to what you've working on already, you mean," Arnold said. "I don't think you're as safe here as you seem to think you are. Moving here only bought you some time."

"Time I need to fix this formula," Rummert replied. "Once it's perfected, we will be able to negotiate with Bagman for a peaceful resolution."

"If you really think that's how it'll play out, you're just fooling yourselves," Arnold told him. "I think you should turn yourself in now."

"Earl, just where did your son get that curious streak of self righteousness? He didn't get it from you," Rummert observed, stirring his cauldrons.

"School, I think. Even Slytherin house has gone downhill since we left it," Earl conjectured.

"Slytherin just hasn't been the same since Snape took over," Adler agreed.

"That has nothing to do with it. This about common sense, and none of you are showing any at the moment. This isn't something you play around with!" Arnold said loudly, frustrated when Rummert ignored him. In fact, Rummert didn't even look at Arnold when he stepped back over to the desk. But then he frowned at the missing mineral samples, and looked in the empty box, and then sighed.

"Now, exactly what do you think you're going to accomplish with that? Hand over the stone," Rummert told Arnold, holding his hand out.

"What?" Arnold said with genuine surprise. "I didn't take it."

"It was right on the desk just a minute ago," Adler said, inspecting the box himself.

"Oh, Arnold, honestly! Turn out your pockets," his father clucked at him.

"I didn't take it! Maybe it fell under the desk," Arnold protested and began to search the floor.

"Arnold, really, stop this foolishness at once and hand it back over. You're embarrassing me," Earl snapped.

"I don't have it," Arnold said, looking him straight in the eye. "And I don't have any large enough pockets in these silly Muggle clothes!" He pulled out what little pockets he did have so that they could see. He also rolled up as his sleeves, which only held his wand.

"Perhaps it fell off the platform or something," Adler suggested, hopping down.

"Or you set it on the shelf," Earl ventured, going over to look. "Something that large can't just disappear." Rummert growled.

"I don't know how you managed to hide it, but it was pointless anyway! I'll simply create a new one!" Rummert declared.

"As easy as all of that?" Arnold asked dubiously. "Even if you can get the supplies with Sludgebat gone, there's no guarantee the next will be any better. If you know your history at all, you'll know that many alchemists obsessed over attempting to make the Stone and wasted their entire lives trying. The only thing more dangerous than too much knowledge is too little... somehow, you've managed to have both! Look, I don't really care what you do personally. To be honest, I'd rather just stay out of this whole thing since I think you're going to doom yourselves anyway. But I'm taking my father with me."

"I am happy where I am!" Earl snapped. "You can't force me to come, and if you try, I'll sue you!"

"Suing your own counselor, that's a novel idea. I'll remind you that none of you old mages have your licenses anymore," Arnold pointed out. "If you don't come home with me, I'm going to expose this whole scheme to everyone."

"You can't do that. You've been bound, remember? You cannot tell anyone or even leave without Adler's permission, on pain of death," Earl reminded him. Arnold frowned. He did make an Agreement, but there was no mention of death in it. In fact, Arnold couldn't remember agreeing to any specific consequences at all.

"I've a thought, Earl. We can simply give him a dose of the potion," Walter said. "Then he'll either have to stay here and keep getting his doses, or risk finding out what happens when you stop taking them."

"There's no need to go that far, Walter. My boy is still in his prime," Earl protested. "He is simply making threats to try and protect his old man..."

"Very old," Arnold agreed.

"But I do not need protecting!"

"WHAT?" Walter cried out so loudly that everyone in the room jumped. "All of the prepared bottles of Elixir are gone! The chest is empty!"

"Well, those certainly didn't roll off the platform," Adler said, still standing below them. "I would have noticed if they had fallen."

"I wasn't watching the table. I was too busy arguing with my son, and he with me, for that matter." Earl said.

"It must have been someone with an invisibility potion," Adler said, pulling out his wand. "We have a thief in our midst."

"A thief! We must check my office safe at once!" Rummert cried out, dashing out of the room.

Earl ran to catch and Arnold followed his father, while Adler jumped onto the platform to take care of the simmering cauldrons before finally catching up. By the time he arrived, it was obvious that something was amiss, for the other three wizards were standing just inside the doorway, staring at the large safe, which was open and empty. "The formulas! All of the notes and formulas! They're all gone! How could anyone have possibly gotten in there with as many curses and charms I had on the thing?" Walter moaned when he finally found his voice.

"Not an amateur, surely," Adler agreed. "Now we have no choice but to turn ourselves in."

"Wait, we still have time to think things through and come up with a plan," Earl protested. "After all, Walter was just finishing a new batch of Elixir when we ran up here."

"Yes, about that... I decided to stop and check on the cauldrons when the three of you took off so that they didn't over boil. But the contents all had a strange color to them, as if they had been sabotaged," Adler reported. Walter put his hands on his head, slumping down in a chair.

"I'm doomed. I'll be dead within six hours," he choked.

"We should go look for who is responsible," Adler suggested. "And pray that it's not Bagman whose behind this." At the reminder, Walter stared at him, the color draining out of his face.

"All right, Arnold, you win," Earl said in a somber voice. "We have no choice but to go home now."

"Wait... I can't go back..." Walter protested.

"If you stay, you'll die," Adler pointed out, offering him a hand. "Come on, Walter. We may as well get this over with. Perhaps if we tell the Ministry the whole story, they'll offer some sort of protection... at least for those Eclipse members who were simply staying here to protect themselves and this secret of yours. As for you, Earl, perhaps Arnold is right. Perhaps Snape does have a trick or two up his sleeve that can help you and the others with your elixir problem."

It was about a half an hour later that the cashier at the gift shop noticed an unusual amount of people coming out of the back elevator with somber expressions on their faces. Most of them didn't pay any attention to him on their way out the door; only Adler glanced back at him, giving him a quick nod. The cashier gave him a familiar Irish grin, then made a play at cleaning the counter, knowing he'd have to stay until everyone left the complex before he would have an opportunity to head home.


Arnold dutifully walked them to the LE office and waited for them to be processed. He even stayed with them when they were transferred to the Tower.

"Trust me, you'll be safer here than you are at Azkaban, at least until the trial. There are a lot more eyes on the place, and I can get an Auror to watch this wing," Thomas Craw told them as he accompanied the jailer to their cells. "I'll speak to the Warden of Azkaban about security before you're officially put away, Rummert."

"Rummert? Not me?" Earl asked nervously.

"Aiding and abetting is less cut and dry than murder. Nobody is going to dispute he killed Sludgebat," Thomas snorted.

"I won't be alive in a couple of hours anyway, once that potion wears out," Rummert said somberly.

"Thus says the alchemy expert," Thomas said sarcastically, apparently unconcerned.

It was just then that Arnold happened to notice who was in the adjacent cell. It was Adler Bosworth, looking quite glum and ruffled as if he had been there for some time. It was only a moment later that Rummert realized something was wrong as well. Rummert stopped in his tracks, the jailer nudging him when he stopped.

"Why, Adler!" Walter exclaimed in surprise.

"Adler?" Earl repeated in confusion. He looked behind them, but no one was there. "How did you get in there?"

"I've been in here since last night, actually," Adler grumbled. Walter and Earl glanced at each other. Arnold simply let out a long sigh.


An hour later, Arnold stepped out of the Doorlift to find the doors of the Headmaster's Study open and Severus Snape behind the desk. Arnold walked in with his hands in his pockets. He was still wearing Muggle's clothes but didn't get a comment about them from Snape. He wasn't expecting one.

"Oh, hello, Arnold," Severus said, sorting through some post distractedly. "I got your note and sent something that should help your father's symptoms temporarily, but you're going to have to give me more time to work out a permanent solution."

"It's a good thing you have plenty of potion samples to work off of, then," Arnold said evenly.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus replied, raising an eyebrow. It was obvious that Arnold wasn't buying it.

"Not to mention the fake stone. You pinched that as well, didn't you? You know that should be turned over for evidence, don't you? Adler?" Arnold added flatly.

"Do you want me to cure your father or not?" Severus challenged him bluntly. Arnold met his intense gaze. Finally he gave up, shaking his head with a chuckle of resignation.

"Yes, of course I do," Arnold said. "I suppose I should be thanking you. I am quite sure that things would have gotten ugly for me had you not been there just then. In fact, I'm not so sure Rummert would have let me out of his compound alive."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I was there," Severus acknowledged, nodding to him. "Well done, Arnold. I'll let you know when I've sent off the potion your father needs, and then I'll formally turn in the evidence. Even so, I suggest you not mention to anyone that I was there. In fact, I am quite sure that Minister Clemmons will insist that you won't," he warned.

"I won't," Arnold agreed with a nod.

But as Arnold stood there, he found himself thinking about just how deftly the headmaster had worked his way into the situation, and right under every one's nose. Then Arnold wondered if that was the only time that Snape had pulled the wool over his eyes. As he turned to face the door, he jumped in surprise, for Aurelius Snape was leaning against the door. Arnold was so startled, in fact, that Aurelius was not only able to meet his gaze, but Arnold felt as if Aurelius was peeling away layers of his mind. Suddenly, Arnold realized that what he has been wondering was not a very safe thing to wonder about.

"Don't worry, Father. I'll walk him down," Aurelius said calmly.

"Thank you, please take good care of him. He's had a very full day, after all," Severus said casually, going back to his paperwork.

"I really have had quite the day," Arnold admitted, sounding resigned again. "What day is it now, anyway?"

"Tomorrow," Aurelius shrugged, escorting him through the Doorlift.

Severus glanced at the post in his hand, moving it to the trash bin.

"One down," he said to himself, and then returned to his work.