Chapter Two

The Golden Statue

Albus sat looking out at the lake. It was just as black as its name suggested, but every so often the moonlight would reflect off of ripples sent through the water. Albus had been trying to catch a glimpse of the giant squid, but he'd either missed it or it wasn't feeling particularly active. The Invisibility Cloak, the parting gift that Harry had given his son the day before, sat on Albus's head and pooled around him. Albus had been elated to receive it; he couldn't possibly imagine the kinds of adventures his father had had while roaming the halls of Hogwarts invisible.

The boys' dormitories were set up along a long corridor, and the entire left wall was made of magical, fingerprint-removing glass. When two or three older students started going about their business, Albus figured he should at least pretend he slept the night. He hurried back down the corridor and into his dorm, ensured that the Cloak was tightly wrapped around his person, and climbed into bed as quietly as possible upon realizing that everyone else was sleeping. There, wrapped under the Invisibility Cloak and the sheets, Albus stared at the ceiling, unable to doze off.

Albus checked the clock on his bedside table after what felt like three days. It was only five-thirty in the morning. Albus felt comfortable enough, something he didn't expect after pulling an all-nighter, and he figured now would be a reasonable time to wake up. He let out a short puff of breath and sat up. Albus resisted the urge to fall back onto the bed and forced himself to stand.

The Slytherin dormitories were spacious compared to his father's description of the Gryffindor equivalent. The six four-poster beds were arranged in a circle around a velvet green carpet bearing the characteristic silver snake. The ceiling came to a point, almost like an elongated dome. It was accented by thin cords of stone that created a symmetrical, ornate design. Enchanted windows were placed a couple meters off the ground in between beds, and unlike the windowed corridor just outside, they illuminated the room with soft morning light.

Albus hadn't used any of his sleepless night to unpack, and his full trunk laid at the foot of his bed. He proceeded to stuff the Cloak deep, deep down into his trunk past all his unpacked belongings before fishing out a pair of socks and shorts, pulling them on, and heading downstairs.

Hogwarts had adapted to modern times, a feat that took a massive overhaul. Professor Helios was an advocate of progress in the name of progress. The headmaster had managed to tap into the font of magic that characterized Hogwarts, meaning that some Muggle technologies could now be permitted within the castle walls—given that they had a certain enchantment placed on them. It allowed for the presence of catered air conditioning in classes (but not in dormitories, for some reason), digital clocks, and even a PA system.

Albus had done some research at his Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron's house, poring through multiple editions of Hogwarts, a History to read up on the enchantments placed on the castle during its inception. Its early history was mysterious, yet Albus was determined to uncover its origins, even more so than Rose, who had joined his search. He had a theory, one whose required research would most definitely be unsanctioned, and one that he and Rose had vowed to investigate the day after the Sorting. The two had planned to meet in the common room by six, though their plan had been made rather hastily in the busy Great Hall as prefects guided students like farmers herding cattle.

Albus was met by a moderately full common room, even for an early Saturday morning. The Slytherin commons were cozier than one would expect a dungeon to be, as they were charmed to be warm and comfortable, unlike the drafty corridors that led there. The cobbled walls were a polished obsidian, and the large fireplaces, indeed bigger than the one he had at home, casted warm light that bounced off of the stones and paintings, the latter of which were often empty. There were chairs of all assortments: plush and velvet; large and leather; soft and fluffy.

Some older students were sitting near the fireplace on the cozier couches and seats, either reading books or doing homework. An ornate, enchanted clock hung above the mantle. Its arms were a shiny green on a white face, save for the seconds marker, which was a lustrous purple color. A small rectangular portion on an empty area of the watch face displayed the time in digital characters.

A large notice board was positioned near the back of the chamber, away from the front entrance to disperse traffic. Albus made his way towards it; there were only a few announcements.

The schedules were to be distributed the following morning during breakfast from six to ten, after which they would be available in the deputy headmaster's office. Club formation and reformation forms would be distributed during the first week of school, after which students could sign up. A flyer about Quidditch tryouts was plastered over an official-looking message—something about a dueling exhibition?—and displayed a looping image of a Gryffindor player smacking into a tree. There were more posts involving personal messages between students and notices posted by prefects, but none of them appeared to be of much concern to Albus or any of his dormmates.

Albus looked to the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitory and sighed. He figured that Rose would be up early, but it seemed he was wrong. He ran back upstairs, returning with a book and claiming an empty seat near the fire. His legs dangled over the armrest and he opened to the last page he had bookmarked.

Ten minutes later, he heard someone sit in the chair next to him. He looked over the book to find the same prefect that had helped him to the table the previous day, Ethan.

"What are you reading?" Ethan asked.

"It's the second book in a Muggle series," Albus said, dog-earing the page and closing it. He handed it to Ethan. "It's called Percy Jackson."

Ethan flipped the book over and skimmed the summary on the back. "This is a fantasy book?"

"Yeah. About Greek mythology."

"Wow." He was visibly surprised. "You don't see many of these in the Wizarding world."

"Really?" asked Albus, curious.

"It kind of makes sense. A lot of wizards don't read as a pastime, and when they do, it's typically an autobiography of some sort. Fantasy novels are especially uncommon, given that we live in a world where magic and dragons and all that actually exists."

"Why? That seems rather unproductive, no?"

Ethan chuckled. "Maybe so. Perhaps more people will start reading now that the Minister is Muggle-born."

"Are there any Wizarding magical fiction writers?" Albus asked.

"I'm sure there are," answered Ethan, handing the book back. "They just aren't popular, I guess." He continued staring at the cover. "Say, could I borrow the first book if you've brought it with you?"

"Yeah, of course. I can fetch it now, if you'd like?"

"Oh, it's fine," Ethan said. "You can hand it to me tonight. I'm intrigued now." He glanced over at the notice board. "Anything take your fancy?"

"Quidditch, though I can't exactly try out."

Ethan chuckled. "I assumed Quidditch might be your thing. Are you as good as your brother?"

"Better," said Albus immediately. "He's all show, no skill."

"I'll hope to see you on the team next year, then."

"Do you play?"

"No, no, I leave that to the professionals. Though this year isn't looking too good… How do you feel about the Dueling Exhibition? It's open to all students, you know."

Albus said nothing about the grim look that had overtaken Ethan's face for a split second. "Er, I saw a little thing about it, but it was covered by the Quidditch flyer."

"Drat, was it? I'll have to fix that later, then. I'm sure Professors M and McCaffrey will tell you more, they're very engaged in the D.E. Professor M was a former duelist, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah, well he wasn't the famous one. That would be his partner, Darius Glover. He teaches at Ilvermorny, you know."

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries before Ethan headed out of the room, mentioning something about needing to speak to a professor.

Albus stretched, catlike in his movements, and resumed reading. He looked up at the enchanted clock on the wall a while later to find that almost an hour had passed. About half of the students had left come six o'clock to have an early breakfast.

He frowned. It wasn't like Rose to miss an appointment. Albus was certain that she'd agreed to meet him in the common room at six the previous night; it was now six-thirty. Ten minutes later, he was beginning to get worried. He was tempted to try and check on her, but he knew that the consequences for trying to enter the girls' dormitory were severe.

His savior arrived in the form of a nervous-looking girl who descended down the steps. Albus recognized her from the Sorting the previous night. She had a Mediterranean complexion, chocolate brown hair, and strikingly grey eyes. Albus placed his book on the chair and walked over towards where she stood, analyzing the notice board like him.

"Excuse me?" he asked, startling her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly. "Hi."

"Hi," Albus said. "Talia, right?"

"Yeah. Albus?"

"Yep," he answered. There was a beat of awkward silence. "I know it's sort of odd for me to ask, but can you do me a favor?"

"I suppose so," she said slowly, "depending on what it is."

He glanced at the clock. "My cousin Rose was supposed to meet me down here forty minutes ago. D'you think you could check on her for me?"

"Oh, sure," she said, brightening a little. "Give me a moment."

A couple minutes later, she approached Albus's chair, where he had resumed reading.

"Rose said she'd be down in a few," said Talia. "She was sleeping."

"Thanks, really," said Albus, marking his book once more.

"Sure. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Talia made her way to the door, looking around the common room in what seemed to be a sense of wonderment as she left.

Rose, true to Talia's word, came down the stairs a few minutes later. Her normally well-kept mane of red hair was in disarray. It was obvious that she had brushed it down hastily to prevent stands from sticking out obnoxiously. Her eyes were a little puffy.

"Hey," she said softly. "Sorry about that."

"No, it's fine," said Albus. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just a rough night." She yawned softly and rubbed her eyes. "Let me just check the notice board and we can go. Why is it so damn bright?" she muttered.

"I've already read it. We can talk on the way there."

Rose nodded, looking as though she were beginning to adjust to the light.

They made it to the Great Hall after navigating the maze of dungeon corridors. "At least we don't have to deal with the staircases," sighed Albus as they walked through the large doors.

"True." Rose had evidently become accustomed to the sights and sounds of morning, as her eyes were fully open and expressive. "Oh, wow," she gasped, staring straight ahead.

Albus copied her gaze. The Great Hall was indeed astounding as ever. The windows towered fifteen or twenty meters into the air, flanked by carved gothic artwork and house crests. They let in enormous amounts of sunlight that flooded the room in orange and yellow. It hardly felt like Britain. There was something inherently magical about the place, splendid and bright and welcoming.

They had arrived rather early to breakfast, but the Hall still felt warm even when half empty. The staff table sat on a raised platform, and the few professors there chatted amicably, casting looks to the students every now and then when someone made a loud noise. But then, as the scents of breakfast drifted towards him, Albus turned his focus to the food.

Oh, the food. The feast last night was the most impressive sight Albus had seen food-wise, but breakfast was right up there on the list. Each of the house tables was piled high with rashers of bacon, stacks of kippers and sausages, piles of toast, croissants, pastries, rolls, pancakes, waffles, platters and bowls of eggs, potatoes, roasted vegetables, fruits, cereals, beans, boats of butter, jam, syrup, and pitchers of water, milk, and pumpkin juice—

"Holy shit," Albus whispered.

Rose slapped him on the shoulder. "Language!"

"Sorry," he said. He wasn't really that sorry.

There were only a few people at the Slytherin table, given that it was still only seven o'clock. Talia was sitting near the edge of the table near the doorway. Albus made his way over to her, not wanting to sit with the other Slytherins since Ethan was nowhere to be seen. "Hey," he said, pulling a plate over.

"Hello again." She was dabbing her face with a napkin. "You should try the waffles. They're fantastic."

"Really?" asked Rose, copying Albus's movements. "I don't usually like waffles."

"Trust her," said Albus, who already had a piece in his mouth. "They're good."

"Chew with your mouth closed," Rose chastised, pulling over a plate of bacon.

Albus chewed and swallowed heavily. "Sure," he said, grabbing the plate of bacon from Rose as she began putting it back in its original place.

"Is he always like this?" asked Talia, watching Albus tear through his food in mild disgust.

"Unfortunately," answered Rose. "His parents complain that he eats like my father. Thank goodness I don't," she added, muttering.

"Somfshimes shu do," Albus remarked through a mouthful of food.

"What did you say?" Talia asked, wrinkling her nose while ladling more eggs onto her plate.

Albus spoke louder, but food started spraying out of the corners of his mouth. "I fhaid tha—"

"Never mind! I don't want to know."

"Oi, Malfoy!" Albus called, waving his new friend over as he entered.

Scorpius flushed beet red at Albus's exclamation and walked over, sitting down next to Albus and looking profusely uncomfortable. Scorpius was pale and skinny, with hair so blond it was almost white, but he looked ever paler in sunlight, almost like a ghost had gained a physical body.

Rose inched away from him slightly, but Scorpius didn't seem to notice. Albus frowned but said nothing. The Malfoys had a reputation in the magical community, one associated with the Dark Arts and the wizards and witches who practiced them, but from what Albus could tell, Scorpius was nothing like how the press described his family in the tabloids.

Albus spread his arms. "Scorpius, this is Talia and Rose."

"Nice to meet you," said Scorpius quietly.

Rose did a kind of stiff bow, as if she'd forgotten how to nod her head. Talia nodded apologetically, her hand covering her mouth full of food.

"What d'you all plan on doing today?" asked Albus, mainly directing the question at Scorpius.

"I dunno," Scorpius responded, looking down as he took as single piece of toast. "Probably visit the library."

Rose relaxed. "Oh, Albus and I are headed there, too, to do some research." Her reservations appeared to have vanished after discovering he was a fellow bookworm.

"Yeah," said Albus, glad his friends were warming up to each other. "But first I want to check out the statue of the Architect, right near the entrance. There isn't much info about him in the books, it's kind of weird."

"We can go check it out first, then," Rose said.

"Wait, what's all this about?" Talia asked. "Surely you aren't studying for classes already?"

"No." Albus answered before Rose could respond affirmatively. "I have a sort of theory."

"A theory?" questioned Scorpius. "What d'you mean?"

"We've been trying to figure out why Muggle technologies can function in Hogwarts now, so we can get Albus's phone to work," explained Rose.

"Phone?"

"I'll show you later," said Albus.

"We know that Headmaster Helios used some kind of enchantment, but its nature must be ancient," continued Rose, as though Albus hadn't just spoken. "Hogwarts is a magical enigma, for it generates its own signature."

"Think of it like a giant wand," Albus enumerated. "It sustains itself by routing the magical energy of its occupants. Rowena Ravenclaw detailed it in some of her journals."

"Exactly," said Rose. "The castle repairs itself whenever it's damaged, just like after the Battle of Hogwarts during the war. Yet for some reason, it used to reject any non-magical signatures it detected within its walls. That's why Muggle devices short-circuited all the time; it was as though the castle's immune system was fighting off a virus."

"Sorry, explain the last bit?" asked Scorpius.

"It's science," said Talia. "The immune system is the part of our body that fights off diseases and maladies. There are things called white blood cells that recognize pathogens or unfamiliar particles in the body and relay to the brain, which in turn produces symptoms to let you know that something is out of the ordinary."

Scorpius paused for a moment and looked at Albus. "I'm just wondering… why?"

"Why, what?" Albus responded.

"Why do all this for a—what is it?—a phone?"

Albus shrugged hesitantly and tried to wipe his suddenly sweaty palms on his robes. "Because I'm bored?"

"That's a bloody stupid reason—aah!" Scorpius ducked and as an owl narrowly missed his head. "Mail, already?" He watched the windows as a couple more owls streamed through, as if waiting for one himself.

The brown screech owl that tried to take Scorpius's head off crashed into the table in front of Albus, sending a pile of scones tumbling to the floor. It shook itself off indignantly and pranced over to Albus.

"Sorry, mate," said Albus, untying a roll of parchment from its leg. "I expected more, to be honest," he said, looking around at the few owls that had settled along the other tables.

"Well, this can't possibly be all of them," said Rose. "Not everyone is awake yet."

"Seems rather inefficient," Talia muttered, pushing feathers off the edge of her plate. "Is your owl okay?"

"She's fine," said Albus, watching the Potter family owl pluck bent feathers from her coat.

"What's her name?"

"Beethoven," said Albus. He patted the owl on the head. "She's normally quite docile. Don't doubt her, though, she's a damn good flier."

Scorpius tilted his head. "She?"

"Yeah."

"But… her name is Beethoven."

"And? Lily named her." Albus fished a roll from a basket, tore off a piece, and handed it to Beethoven. "Here you go."

The owl chirped happily and practically swallowed the bread whole. She took flight, coasting out one of the windows and dipping in the air before gliding out of sight.

"Magic is weird," Talia muttered.

Scorpius pursed his lips. "I know it's rather uncouth to ask like this, but are you Muggle-born?"

"My parents don't know magic, yeah."

"And you were Sorted into Slytherin?" Scorpius questioned.

Talia tilted her head quizzically. "Obviously. Why?"

Scorpius shook his head. "It's just… Slytherin house doesn't get very many Muggle-born students given its… history."

Talia shrugged. "That Hat said Slytherin, didn't it?"

"I suppose so." Scorpius continued to stare at her oddly.

"How did your parents react?" Rose asked, trying to pull the conversation back on track.

"They were quite skeptical when they received the letter," said Talia. "They did some internet research and saw that Hogwarts didn't apparently exist. They only believed it when Professor Longbottom showed up at our door a few days later and displayed some magic."

"That must be some experience," commented Scorpius, having emerged from his thoughts to spread jam on toast. "What did you think?"

Talia laughed. "Honestly, I felt like I always knew. When I was in primary school, I used to be able to run unbelievably fast whenever I played tag with my friends. People just thought I was extremely athletic, but I always thought it was something else. It felt as though the wind was pushing me forwards, if that makes any sense."

"My mum told me that most children's first act of magic is elemental," said Rose. "The first time I used magic I was four. I made all of the taps in the house turn on when Albus's brother James stole one of my toys."

"Rose and I are cousins, by the way," Albus added.

"Don't remind me," Rose muttered. "I prefer to pretend James and I aren't related."

Scorpius smiled wistfully. "Mine was when I was three. It was snowing outside, and my parents didn't let me out, so I made it snow in the living room. My mum and I made snow angels together." His expression fell and turned gloomy. "It was fun." Scorpius sat in pensive silence for a moment before looking at his dormmate. "What about you, Albus?"

Albus snorted. "I set my brother on fire."

Scorpius spat a sip of pumpkin juice back into his cup. "You what?"

"I was seven—"

"Seven? That's quite old!"

"Yeah, I know," muttered Albus. The tips of his ears went red. "James used to call me a squib. It got to the point where he changed the lettering on my birthday cake to spell 'Albus Squibberus Potter.'"

"What's a Squib?" Talia asked.

"It's someone who can't use magic whose parents both can. James always tried to use magic around me when I was little, he said that maybe I'd learn how to do it by watching him. He made my cake explode, too, after I saw it. I just… I dunno, something snapped. And I set his hair on fire." Albus had never had to explain it before, and it felt odd to do so.

"Is his hair fine?" Talia asked, concerned.

"Well, you see," said Rose, "even after his parents put James out, they couldn't regrow his eyebrows. They stayed that way for over a year."

"We had to get Aunt Hermione to concoct a potion," Albus said, grinning. "She actually had to do new research to brew a fitting remedy."

"Wait a second," said Talia, looking at Rose wide-eyed. "Your mum is the Minister for Magic?!"

"That's her," Rose said. "It's neat, I guess. D'you know Harry Potter?" she asked, feeling uncomfortable about the fact that Albus wasn't uncomfortable.

"No, why?" Talia turned to Albus. "Is he your dad?"

Albus broke out into a fit of laughter, and Rose just smiled awkwardly. "Don't worry about it," she said.

Scorpius's face broke out into a grin as a massive snowy owl beat its wings heavily. "There you are!" he said as it landed on the table with a noticeable thump.

"Your owl's beautiful!" said Talia, reaching forward to pat its head as Scorpius untied a bundle of parchment from its leg.

"Thank you," said Scorpius, beaming. "His name's Thunder."

"Fitting."

"Is that the Prophet?" asked Albus.

"Well, yeah—hey!" Scorpius exclaimed as Albus snatched the paper from his hands. "You're welcome!"

"Here," said Albus, tossing Scorpius a note that had fallen out of the newspaper. He spread the Prophet out on the table. His aunt was on the front page, grasping either side of a podium as camera flashes illuminated her pale face. Granger-Weasley: Brilliant or Mad? the headline read. "Darn."

"Not again," Rose mumbled.

Albus scanned the column.

On Thursday, August 31st, Minister Granger-Weasley held a press conference announcing her intent to promote the general welfare of non-Wizarding populations utilizing magical technologies. Such implementation is unprecedented considering the limitations brought on by the International Statute of Secrecy, and the Minister's new plan for 'innocuous integration' is being questioned by many vocally derisive Aegeans, including the head of the conservative party, Ronan Farris. Turn to page six for our exclusive interview with the shield of the Aegean party, discussing this and other controversial executive decisions by Minister Granger-Weasley, along with the possibility of a new Aegean candidate in the upcoming 2019 election.

Albus handed the paper back to Scorpius. "It's just the usual rubbish."

"Are you sure?" asked Rose. She snatched the paper away from an increasingly annoyed Scorpius. "This doesn't look too good."

"Rose, it's not a smear piece. It's fine."

"But still—"

Albus belched loudly. "Well, I'm stuffed."

"And I've lost my appetite," said Rose drily, handing the paper back to Scorpius. "Let's go, then," she said. Rose stood and pushed her plate away with an air of urgency, as if she craved sudden escape from the Great Hall. "I think the statue is near the doors to the front courtyard."

"This Muggle technology thing sounds interesting," said Scorpius, tucking both papers into his robes. "Mind if I join you two?"

"Ooh, count me in," said Talia. "It'll give me a chance to look around the castle, too."

"Yeah, sure," said Albus. "The more hands we have, the better."

The four of them made their way out of the Great Hall. The stone double doors to the front courtyard were wide open. The orange-yellow sunlight washed over the mountains and the lake that wrapped around the castle. The place looked picturesque.

"Here," said Rose, pointing before the door on the right-hand side. "This is it."

There was a small indent in the wall, in front of which stood a statue. It was gold and grand, about three or four meters tall. In one hand the wizard presented a model of Hogwarts, and in the other held a large roll of parchment. He stood atop a pedestal whose four corners were adorned with the animals of each house. A plaque centered on the base proudly read, The Architect of Hogwarts.

"What's that meant to be?" asked Rose, pointing at the roll of parchment.

"Those are the blueprints for Hogwarts," Albus explained. "The Architect supposedly designed them along with Rowena Ravenclaw, who devised the ever-changing floor plan."

"Why couldn't they just design a castle without moving staircases?" muttered Scorpius. "I tried to get to the Great Hall and ended up in a ladies' toilet."

The four of them stared at the statue for a moment. Talia looked around. "Well? What now?"

Albus frowned. "Maybe there's some writing somewhere?"

They scoured all sides of the statue, but couldn't find anything. Scorpius was scrawny enough to skirt around between the back of the statue and the wall, but he came up with nothing, too.

"I could try using a Revealing Charm," he suggested after emerging from the other side.

"Go for it," said Albus.

Scorpius drew his wand and placed its tip on the base of the statue. He took a deep breath. "Aparecium!"

Nothing happened. Scorpius begrudgingly went behind the statue once more and cast the spell again.

"Still nothing," he said.

"Maybe it's too advanced for us to tap into," suggested Talia.

"Possibly," said Rose. "Sorry, Al. It was a good try."

"I'm sure we can get something out of this," Albus said. "But we can come back later, I guess." He was disappointed, nonetheless. He had finally gotten a proper lead, but it was all for naught. It was… demoralizing.

Scorpius noticed the look on his friend's face as the two girls walked away. "Hey, it's fine. I'm sure we can figure something out," he said, patting Albus on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Scorpius."

The two of them walked around the castle for an hour or two until they got lost on the second floor and struggled to make their way back to the common room. There, a desperate-looking third year girl supporting a heavy armful of books was trying to gently budge a house of Exploding Snap cards to the side.

Albus turned back to Scorpius, but his eyes landed on empty air. Frowning, Albus looked back at the girl to find that Scorpius was helping carry her things to a different table near the fireplace.

Albus shook his head as Scorpius returned. "How chivalrous."

"Oh, shut it."

Albus introduced Scorpius to the wonders of the Muggle smartphone, a device whose functions had still not found themselves integrated into the Wizarding world. His father had never abandoned common Muggle technology like television and automobiles, and had even encouraged Albus after he expressed interest.

It seemed like Albus, besides his father and his uncle George, was one of the very few people in all of Wizarding Britain who cared about Muggle technology, a circumstance that Albus found alarming. Uncle George often complained that wizards still hadn't developed a way to communicate as quickly and conveniently as Muggle phones, and Albus assumed that the assignment his uncle had tasked him with had something to do with it.

George had approached Albus over the summer, just a few days before his departure for Hogwarts. Albus was afraid he was in trouble—George could practically hear everything going on in the Burrow, what with his magical prosthetic ear and all—but his uncle had offered a proposition.

"I want to install something on your phone," George had said.

"Install what?" Albus asked.

George looked about the sitting room nervously, as if afraid someone would overhear them. "It's top secret, Al."

"Top secret?" Albus grinned. "Cool!" His grin faltered. "Well, what is it?"

"It's an app. I want to test it at Hogwarts, but I don't think Professor Helios is keen on inviting alumni into the castle without need."

"What does it do?"

George winked. "That's the top secret part. You'll find out when you use it, I suppose. So, what d'you say?"

Albus was planning on saying yes, regardless of whether or not George had decided to tell him more, and he nodded emphatically.

"Good. Can I see your phone, then?" Albus handed it over. George laid it flat on the coffee table and pointed his wand at it. "You might want to stand back, I have no idea if this will explode."

"What?!"

Luckily, Albus's phone didn't explode. It was completely normal afterwards, save for a little application icon of a tattered roll of parchment. George grinned and urged Albus to tap on it.

Albus opened the application eagerly, and was met with a white circle on a background image of a starry sky. "What is this?"

George peered over his shoulder. "Keep your finger on the circle and say, I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

"What?"

"Just try it."

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," said Albus. The circle faded and was replaced by white text. "Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are sadly unavailable to assist you at this time."

George roared in delight. "Bloody hell! It actually worked! I've been trying this with older phones, but I don't think they can handle it—"

Albus blanched. "You didn't even know if this would work?! What spell did you use?"

"I didn't."

"What does it even—" Albus paused. "Wait, what?"

"Try again at Hogwarts," George insisted. "You'll see. Hopefully."

Albus had planned on keeping George's project a secret from everyone—well, everyone but Rose, of course. Albus always told Rose everything, and he knew that she'd keep a secret if he begged her to.

Yet somehow, even though Albus or Rose hadn't told a single soul, the Sorting Hat knew. It hadn't said it out loud, but Albus could tell. It was this knowledge that caused Albus to debate his current predicament—whether or not to tell his new friends.

Unfortunately, Albus's problems were exacerbated by a miserable development. For some reason, only half of the phone's functions performed. Albus could turn off cellular data and play almost all downloaded games and content, yet he was unable to connect to anything else. There was certainly some kind of cell signal there, since his phone registered bars in the top corner, but none of its functionality was accessible. All of his texts and emails to his father came back with error messages, and the normal ringing sound whenever he called someone instead registered as harsh and grainy, like a siren. George's app displayed a black screen instead of the message Albus had seen before, and Albus highly doubted that that was its intended function.

Much to Albus's chagrin, his music didn't work either, something he figured out during the previous sleepless night while wearing earbuds. His phone produced no sound at all save for that same siren, meaning Albus had to turn the volume and ringer down at all times to avoid its wails.

Albus figured that his problems had something to do with the castle's magic, but the whole situation was still odd. How had Professor Helios managed it?

"I hope all Muggle technology isn't like this," said Scorpius, frowning as Albus shook his phone in dismay.

"It's not, I swear. Haven't you used the fan?"

"What, the one you brought along with you?"

Albus had asked his mum to shrink a box fan into his trunk with an expanding timer. She had been deathly afraid that Albus would forget and blow up his trunk, but Albus had managed to assure her that he would be responsible. His mother had set the timer to eleven at night, giving Albus two hours after the feast to unpack the fan and place it in a safe space for expansion. "I'll teach you the spell over the Christmas break," she had said, smirking.

"I like to sleep in very cold temperatures," Albus told Scorpius. "I literally have three fans set up in optimal positioning in my room back at home."

"Sounds posh."

"Don't be mad when you ask to use it and I say, 'I told you so.'"

Scorpius smirked. "I have no need for petty ornaments like a fan."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Hey!" he said, pretending to look offended. "I eat my cucumber sandwiches with the crusts on, thank you very much."

Both of them laughed. Albus rubbed his eyes. "I severely regret not having slept right about now."

"I would suggest that you take a nap but it's already almost lunchtime."

Albus looked up at the clock. It was in fact almost noon; they had spent an hour in conversation. "Have we really been talking for that long?"

"Doesn't feel like it, hmm?"

Albus shook his head. He traced his tongue around the roof of his mouth. "Damn. I forgot to brush."

"And shower," said Scorpius, wrinkling his nose.

"I'm going to go shower, then."

"Cool," said Scorpius. "I'm going to stop by the library. I'll meet you at lunch?"

"Yeah," Albus said, waving goodbye and heading up the stairs to the first year dormitory.

Albus noticed that all of the beds were empty, save for one. Finn, a boy with chocolate skin and curly black hair, was still sound asleep, curled up into fetal position underneath his sheets.

Albus tiptoed around Finn's bed to his own, grabbing his soaps, a change of clothes, and, inspired by a guilty conscience, his toothbrush and toothpaste. The two full bathrooms were located to the right side of the dormitory, for the sake of privacy if someone came in through the front door.

But as Albus pulled his wand from his pocket, the roll of parchment from breakfast dropped to the tile floor. He picked it up and unfurled it, and smiled as his father's handwriting came into view.

Dear Albus,

I hope you're well. Your mother and I are so incredibly proud of you. Slytherin is lucky to have such a brilliant young man in their ranks, and I have no doubt that you will accomplish all that you dream of.

A word of advice: good friends are hard to come by. When you find them, keep them close. You'll never regret it. We're both here for anything you need, Al. Don't hesitate to reach out for any reason.

Sending our love,

Your mum and dad.

Smiling, Albus carefully rolled up the parchment and placed the tie back on, stepping out of the bathroom momentarily to place it carefully on his desk.

Albus showered and brushed his teeth simultaneously, all the while wishing that his phone's music worked. Fifteen minutes later, he felt and smelled considerably cleaner. But after noticing that his dormmate was still asleep, Albus resolved to wake him up.

Albus tapped Finn's shoulder. The boy didn't wake. Albus frowned and tried multiple tactics for the next few minutes, including shaking his shoulder, shaking both of his shoulders, tapping his face, and even yelling his name. None worked.

Albus was getting extremely frustrated and ready to leave before an idea struck him. He unlocked his phone, turned up the volume to full blast and, bracing himself, played a music file. The grating siren blared its hell-song, startling Albus and waking Finn, who shrieked and jumped out of bed, nearly falling onto the heater in the middle of the room.

"What the hell is that?" Finn yelled, covering his ears.

Albus turned it off and released a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "You weren't waking up; I didn't know what to—" He spun around quickly. "Why are you naked?"

Finn yelped. "Sorry." Albus heard some rustling behind him. "You're good now."

Albus turned to find Finn wearing a hideous pair of neon green pyjamas. Albus wrinkled his nose and wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. "It took me ten minutes to wake you up!"

"Yeah, I'm a very heavy sleeper," Finn said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I also sometimes have a tendency to fall asleep with my pyjamas on and wake up completely naked. It's a condition."

"I figured as much," said Albus, grimacing at the fresh memory. "D'you know a memory charm, by chance?"

"Sorry. You're stuck with that forever."

Albus placed his dirty clothes into his unfolded collapsible hamper. "I'm heading down to lunch now. It's already past noon; you should probably eat something."

"Sure, let me freshen up first," Finn said, opening his trunk with a loud crash. "Ah, crud."

"You okay?" asked Albus, scrambling around his own bed to see what had happened.

"Damn!" Finn was standing over a mound of light brown powder.

"What is that?" Albus asked, grabbing a cleaning broom from the space between two bathroom doors. He handed the broom to Finn and fetched the dustpan.

"Instant coffee," he muttered. "My dad told me that the castle doesn't stock coffee, so I brought some of my own."

"I'm sure that there's some form of coffee somewhere in the castle," said Albus, holding the dustpan steady against the floor as Finn swept the powder into a small pile. "Surely the professors have some."

"Maybe, but I doubt they're willing to share. I certainly wouldn't."

Albus frowned. "Possibly. I'll ask Neville—Professor Longbottom if he could lend me any."

"Eh, don't worry about it. Maybe it's a sign." Finn shrugged.

"Sure," said Albus, moving to grab the broom off the floor.

"Wait, I'll get it," Finn said, reaching it before Albus. "Go on down to lunch, I'll clean this up."

"You sure?" asked Albus, dusting off his knees. "I can stay and help."

"It's fine. I need to shower after this, anyways."

"Alright," Albus said, relenting. "Have fun."

"I will!" Finn shouted as Albus walked out the door.

Albus glanced around the common room and left. It seemed that Scorpius had in fact gone to the library. He exited and, on his way out of the door, nearly walked directly into Rose.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, jumping back. "Careful, Rosie."

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't expect anyone to be coming out."

"It's fine," said Albus. "Have you eaten already?"

"No," she said as the two stepped to the side, allowing an older student to pass by. "I'm grabbing a copy of a second year Defense book to show Talia. She's waiting in the Great Hall."

"Oh, I'm heading down there now," Albus said. "I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," nodded Rose before tucking through the doors.

Albus watched as they closed behind his cousin. The archway recessed into the wall and the handles disappeared, the beveling melting into the cold stone and fading until it seemed like a dead end. He shook his head in mild amazement.

Concealing magic always mesmerized him. The practice of illusion was one both mysterious and heavily relied upon in the magical world for the protection of their society. It was employed in a plethora of ways, from hiding small valuables in a house to disguising an entire government headquarters.

Perhaps that was why Albus was so intrigued by the statue of the Architect. There was something vexing him, something that seemed odd. The statue had only ever been mentioned in that one edition of Hogwarts, a History, the only edition available to Hogwarts students. Why hadn't he seen mention of it elsewhere?

Figuring that he could case the statue once more before lunch, Albus headed out of the dungeons and back up towards the front entrance. He stood in front of the statue, staring up at the Architect's face. Whoever had sculpted the statue had done a fantastic job. Albus almost felt as though the golden man would lean down and speak.

"What are you doing?"

Albus shrieked and whirled around to find his brother looking skeptical. "Bloody hell, James."

"New boyfriend?" he suggested, gesturing to the statue.

"Don't worry about it," Albus muttered, placing his hand over his chest. "I'm just trying to figure something out."

"What, exactly?" asked James. "There's not much to figure out when classes haven't even started."

"I said, don't worry about it."

James held his hands up. "Someone's touchy."

Albus sighed. "Just shut up. Why are you even here?"

"Er…" James shifted uncomfortably. "To check on you?"

Albus looked at him is disbelief and laughed. "You… checking on… me?"

James glowered. "Here I thought you'd be all moody."

Albus just kept laughing, doing his best to keep his breaths steady.

"Fine, then." James gave him a look and turned, heading back through the Entrance Hall.

Albus recovered quickly after James left. He didn't want to look at an insane person, staring at a statue and laughing. He turned his keen eye to the recess that the statue occupied. The outline of the stone arch was parabolically shaped and either side came to a soft peak at the top. He frowned; something was odd about its construction.

Albus continued studying the statue for another five minutes, even trying to slip behind to see if Scorpius had missed anything. Suffice to say his efforts were futile. He grunted in frustration and stomped to the Great Hall, taking a moment outside to compose his unruly hair before heading in.

Talia and Scorpius were talking amicably on opposite sides of the table. Albus sat down to Scorpius's right, and Scorpius immediately noticed that something was off. "You alright?"

"I dunno," Albus said, grabbing a leg of roast chicken. "I'm still thinking about that statue."

"Hey, don't worry about it," said Talia. "I'm sure we'll find something."

Oh, we will, thought Albus, his mind still determined. He munched on his piece of chicken solemnly. "How was your library visit, Scorpius?"

"Oh, it was incredible." Scorpius smiled. "The library at home is big, sure, but nothing like the Hogwarts one."

"It's massive," Talia agreed. "Rose and I almost got lost in the Potions section."

"Rose doesn't get lost easily," Albus pointed out.

Talia's smile wavered. "Okay, maybe I almost got lost in the Potions section."

Albus tuned out as Talia and Scorpius began talking about the staircases. He was on the far side of the room, meaning he had a good view of the Gryffindor table. James was shoveling potatoes into his mouth as his three best friends, Ben, Toby, and Mark, looked around like guards.

Albus frowned. James and his posse were normally odd, sure, but they seemed more… suspicious than normal.

Albus glanced up at the Head Table. Only a few professors were present, none of whom he knew. He looked back the at Gryffindor table to find that James had finished and was slinking out of the hall, his friends staying behind and whispering.

James sprinted away from the Entrance Hall as soon as he was out of sight of the Head Table. Albus could have sworn he saw his brother pull a stained piece of folded parchment from his pocket before completely vanishing from Albus's point of view.