The neon lights of the carnival danced and shone rhythmically on the night sky.
People shuffled about in all directions—muggles and wizards alike—and the main attraction, as usual, was the stage of Samuel O'Heiden.
As the music played and the lights danced about—Samuel, slender and flashy with a whimsical flair, whipped out his hands and extended his fingers, blasting fire from both palms and making the flames erupt in a beautiful swirl of spiraling fires, spinning into the sky before quickly flickering out of sight.
Samuel wore his usual outfit—a black and alternative sort of overcoat, with a dark undershirt and pants to match, the shirt and pants both pinstriped and a single spike-shaped earring in one ear, his hair a deep sandy color, spiky and messy with a sharp widow's peak hairline. He had a narrow face and a charming little crook to his smile, a pair of shiny hazel eyes that seemed alit with life as he finished off his performance once more.
The music softened as the crowd gave him applause, echoing amid their shouts of approval.
"Guns, and drums, and drums, and guns, haroo, haroo… with your guns, and drums, and drums, and guns, the enemy nearly slew yah… oh darlin' dear, ya' looked so queer… Johnny, I hardly knew yah…!"
Samuel straightened out and gave one final flourish of the wrist, a last burst of fire twirling up his fingers and dissipating into the air.
Then, as the show ended and the crowd just began to disperse—Samuel's eyes landed on a familiar face among the bunch, standing down below and gazing up at him with a serious visage.
A large, stocky man stood directly before the stage, one whom he greatly recognized. It was Roman—his longtime friend from Scotland—wearing a vest, a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a dark hat cocked slightly sideways, his dark hair shaven to the scalp and his big brown eyes looking oddly serious on his otherwise jovial face.
Samuel read his face, instantly knowing something was amiss. He leaped briskly off the stage, landing swiftly before him and approaching him with ease, sliding his hands into his overcoat pockets as he did.
"We've got a slight problem at Hogwarts," Roman informed, lowering his voice and glancing warily around, ensuring nobody was close enough to overhear.
Samuel frowned. "Is it to do with the escapee, or…?"
"No, no—not that," Roman assured, swatting the air. "It's about Trocar."
Samuel narrowed his eyes. "Crowley? What about him?"
Roman glimpsed around again, then sighed. "The Seal of Shadows has been attacking places strategically. At first, it all appeared random… but now, the end goal is becoming clear. Certain places supply other certain places with certain needed goods, y'know. And, when those places all burn to the ground… well… the chain of command starts falling apart, and then people like Crowley can't get what they need under the table anymore."
Samuel looked down, biting his lip and pondering on this intently. His eyes then flicked back up to Roman's, looking considerably more serious than before.
"I'll see what I can do," he said.
Roman nodded. "Aye… I'd appreciate it. I wouldn't ask, but… you know more people than anyone else I can think of, and some muggle connections might actually prove fairly beneficial here."
Samuel scoffed out a laugh, revealing a hint of his crooked little smirk again. "Heheh. Y'know how hard it'll be to convince a muggle working in a hospital to smuggle me something like that on a regular basis? Can't imagine what kind of cover story I'd have to give."
"Well… it's either that, or you'd have to gather a bunch of wizards and just tell them the truth, then convince them all to donate a certain amount every month or so," Roman chuckled. "That might be more likely to work… but if you wanna try the muggle way, be my guest. If anyone can convince 'em, it's you. You could convince an apple it's an orange."
Samuel winked and clicked his tongue. "I'll letcha know."
"Good," Roman concluded with a nod, turning and waving him off. "Seeya later."
"Ta-ta," Samuel replied with a two-fingered salute.
He watched until his old friend was out of sight.
In the weeks leading up to Halloween—Zander, Alice, and Tobias began to notice something.
The three of them hung out fairly frequently—which Zander seemed to have no problems with anymore—and they attended many classes together, including Hagrid's and Crowley's. But, during each Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the three of them began to notice something different about their teacher.
Professor Crowley was still teaching everyone in the class just fine—but now, as the start of November drew near, he seemed to have less energy, less power behind his lectures. In fact, he seemed paler than usual—and by the time Halloween was over, he was almost as ghostly white as Nearly Headless Nick. Often times during dinnertime in the great hall—Arius would spare Crowley considerably more surveying glances than he ever used to, and this didn't slip by their notice, either.
The first Quidditch match of the year was close—Hufflepuff verses Ravenclaw—and Alice was spending a lot of her time at practice now. So, Zander and Tobias were the only two to notice the change in Crowley's disposition during the dueling club meetings. Crowley was giving basic instructions like always, but he was no longer participating, no longer sparring with students, and no longer demonstrating for them. This was most noticeable to Zander—because he'd been in the dueling club for years, and this was a stark contrast to all the years before.
"He seems sick," Alice remarked as the three of them walked down the corridor together, just after the latest dueling club.
"He is sick," Zander stated. "I'm just not sure with what."
"It looks like malnourishment," Tobias commented. "I did ask him if he vas okay, but he said 'yes, I am just coming down with something.' It does not look like ze kind of sickness he says, though."
The three of them fell silent for a moment, dwelling on the issue and thinking of no real solution. Then, Alice thought of something else, turning and giving the boys an interested squint.
"Hey… Zander," she said, nodding past him at Tobias. "We still haven't shown him."
Zander turned to her, and Tobias eyed them both.
"Shown me vhat?"
Zander and Alice faced him, each flashing a smirk.
"Our getaway," Zander said vaguely.
"It's our own private little common room," Alice grinned. "I think you're gonna love…"
She suddenly trailed off, slowing to a stop just as something caught her eye.
Zander and Tobias halted on either side of her—all three of them staring directly ahead.
They were alone in the corridor moments ago—but now, the headmaster stood a ways ahead of them, dressed in his usual flashy attire, down to the hat and the dark purple robe. He walked forward—not with a swagger or a twirl of the cane, like usual—but with a simple trudging meander, as if he was as drained as Crowley all the sudden.
"Blimey," Zander mumbled, glimpsing between Alice and Tobias. "Is there a plague going around, or what…?"
"Ohh," Arius breathed, stopping and reaching up to his head, seeming to grow dizzy all the sudden. He blinked a few times, sighing and trying to stiffen in his stance.
Alice felt a spark of concern, frowning and breaking into a brisk stride toward him. "Professor—are you all right?"
"What? Oh… hello," Arius murmured tiredly, managing a brief smile. "The misfit three… always a pleasure."
Zander and Tobias stopped on each of Alice's sides, all of them examining the headmaster with rapt attentiveness.
"I was just… looking for Trocar," Arius said, motioning down the hall and revealing the thick black flask in his hand, clutched alongside the handle of his cane. "You three haven't seen Professor Crowley, have you?"
"Yes. He just dismissed the dueling club about ten minutes ago," Zander informed. "And he looked worse than you do."
"Zander," Alice whisper-yelled, smacking him on the arm.
"Ah—no offense, Headmaster," Zander quickly added.
"No… that's… quite all right," Arius sighed, reaching to his head again. "Oh… mercy. I may not be able to get to his office…"
"Professor… do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Alice asked him. "We can go with you."
Arius flashed a kind little smile. "No, dear… that's quite all right. I just need… would you mind taking this to him? He needs this."
The headmaster extended his arm, offering the thick flask to them.
Alice took the flask, giving it an odd stare before looking to Arius again.
"What is it, medicine?" Zander guessed.
"Ve have noticed that he's been rather ill lately," Tobias added.
"It… well…" Arius made a sideways nod. "Yes… actually… it's just the medicine he needs."
"We'll get it to him," Alice assured. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes… yes, I'll be fine," Arius affirmed. "I'm already feeling better… knowing I don't have to walk all the way up to his classroom. And I know it's getting late, so… if the prefects give you any grief, just tell them the headmaster sent you off to do a job. It's probably better if you three hand it off, anyway. Trocar likely wouldn't take it straight from me… stubborn as he is…"
"We'll make sure he gets it," Zander promised. "Take care, Headmaster."
"Yes, yes, you too…"
Arius spun crookedly on his heel, sauntering away and waving them off.
The three of them traded glances, then turned around and began marching off in the opposite direction, heading toward the staircases.
As they made the long walk up the moving stairs and headed toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts room—Zander glimpsed over, his eyes narrowing curiously at the flask in Alice's hands.
"Let me see that," he said, sliding the flask from her grasp and unscrewing the lid.
"Vhat are you doing?" Tobias exhaled. "That's for Professor Crowley."
"I know—I just wanna know what it is," Zander replied, removing the lid. "It might give us a hint to what he's sick with. Then we'll know if it's serious or not."
"Aye… Crowley and Arius have always been our favorite teachers," Alice told Tobias.
"Exactly," Zander agreed, holding the flask closer to his face. "I'd rather not ignore them having a deadly illness of some kind."
He took in a long, heavy whiff—inhaling the scent of the flask's contents and instantly reeling back, his face twisting up with disgust.
"Iron," Zander groaned, hurriedly screwing the lid back on. "Bloody hell—it smells like iron."
"Oy!" a girl yelled at them—making all three of them stop on a dime.
Just down the hallway, and right outside of Crowley's classroom—a familiar redheaded girl stood there, now storming toward them, a girl with a Gryffindor robe and a prefect's badge fixed firmly onto her chest.
"You're not supposed to be out here after hours," Rose Weasley told them as-a-matter-of-factly, stopping a few feet away. "What's your business here?"
"Headmaster Arius sent us here to bring something to Professor Crowley," Alice informed, holding up the flask. "Have you seen him?"
"Oh… well," Rose uttered, glancing at the classroom, then back. "I did just a moment ago… but he left."
"He left?" Zander asked, stepping forward. "Where'd he go?"
"I'm not sure… but he seemed like he was in a hurry," Rose remarked.
"I knoooow!" another voice joined in.
Everyone wheeled around—seeing the shaggy-haired James meandering out from the stairways, emerging from where the trio had moments ago.
"I know where he we-ent!" James bragged, pocketing his hands and venturing toward them with a swagger to his stride.
"James," Rose growled threateningly, her tone changing. "You're not supposed to be here—and you know that."
"Oooh—please," James laughed, shaking his head and flinging his bangs from his eyes. "I can do whatever I like. 'Specially with you here."
"I won't keep covering for you just because you're my cousin," Rose rumbled.
"Hey," Alice breathed, facing James fully. "Where did Crowley go?"
"I saw him run off outside when I passed by the window," James informed, waving his thumb behind him. "Looked like he was headed toward the forest."
Alice, Zander, and Tobias all took back, swapping grave looks with each other.
"Looked like he was halfway keeling over, too," James shrugged. "I dunno why he'd run into the forbidden forest when he's in a state, but…"
Zander broke into a speed-walk, Alice and Tobias close behind him.
The three of them hurried out of the corridor and vanished into the staircase, rushing to reach the bottom floors.
When they finally did—they headed out the nearest exit and emerged outside, marching across the courtyard under the darkening sky and hoping to catch up with their teacher before he distanced himself too far.
"Why—why would he go there right now?!" Alice panted as she strode onto the grass.
"He's an ex-auror, Alice," Zander said between breaths, keeping a steady pace as well. "If there's any security threat to the school—then he's the one who'll respond to it, whether he's in good health or not."
At once—Alice skidded to a hard stop, a daunting realization striking her as a memory suddenly returned to her.
Zander and Tobias whipped around and gave her a look.
"Vhy did you stop?" Tobias said.
"Alice—come on," Zander urged.
Alice gaped at them, feeling a rapidly-growing worry festering inside.
"I—I saw something," she exhaled. "That night, at Hagrid's—I forgot—I saw something in the forest. I thought it was a person, but I—I wasn't sure—"
"What?" Zander barked, instantly rounding on her. "Why didn't you tell anyone?!"
"Because—it was dark and pouring rain that night! I couldn't tell if I actually even saw anything!" Alice exclaimed.
"God—blimey, Alice," Zander hissed, cocking his head at her. "Crowley could be in serious danger right now!"
Alice stared, her expression hardening, a spark of determination igniting in her eyes.
"Not for long," she growled—pulling out her wand and racing past him.
"What—wait a second—!" Zander yelled, swearing under his breath and breaking into a run after her.
"Vunderbar," Tobias groaned sarcastically, rolling his eyes before making chase after them.
Now, all the sudden—all three of them were sprinting across the grassy clearings at top speed, dashing toward the darkened forest and whizzing into the trees with absolute haste.