Disclaimer: If you don't know by now that this is based on the work of JK Rowling and molded to my own purposes, you haven't been paying attention. Who am I kidding, you always pay attention!

Chapter 21 – Return to the Warehouse

"But aurors crawled all over that murder scene," Nicholas said as he, Albus, and Perenelle sat at the kitchen table discussing the ancient spells that Albus had found reference to in the Hogwarts Library. "Do you actually believe that altar is somewhere in the building?"

"While I agree that it wouldn't have to be for Grindelwald to perform his ceremonies, I believe it must have been what George wanted to show us. Anything smaller and he would simply have brought it to us, not the other way around," Albus replied. He studied his oldest friend. Nicholas still looked pale and weak. Though he was well enough to be home, it occurred to Albus that Nicholas was probably not up to a search."

"I cannot fault your logic," Nicholas replied as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly. "It's just that – well I don't want to believe it, I suppose."

Albus reiterated the secret divulged to him by Lolly and added, "Nearly all the pieces fit. The only thing I cannot imagine is what Grindelwald might have thought was in our possession. Still, there has to have been something, and whatever it is, he's been missing it since George died."

Perenelle, who had remained silent until now, spoke lightly. "George might have hidden something necessary to the spell in the warehouse, if he realized he'd been compromised."

"If he realized he'd been compromised, why not simply apparate away though?" Nicholas argued skeptically. "Let's say he's in the warehouse waiting for Albus and myself, and another wizard or wizards track him down. First of all, there would have been a fight; George was a very capable wizard. But we never really found signs of much of a struggle. I believe the ministry determined that he must have been surprised. Also, this scenario really doesn't allow time for him to take anything and hide it."

Albus pressed his fingertips together, trying to imagine George's last moments before he was killed. "I have never been able to understand why he entered that building. He was supposed to meet us out front. He had to have known it was possible that Grindelwald or some of his supporters would return."

"Perhaps he was not in control when he entered the building," Perenelle suggested. She also had a mug of coffee, but Albus was not sure if she'd actually taken a single sip. She stared at it as if the dark liquid held the answer.

"That seems doubtful," Albus replied. "George had already successfully thrown off control and it does become easier with practice. It seems more likely that something drew him inside."

"Have you looked in the mirror at all?" Nicholas asked suddenly. "Did you watch his dealings or use it to track him?"

"No," Albus replied. "I want Elijah present when I do. After all he's been through, he should have the chance to be part of Grindelwald's capture."

"That's a kind sentiment, Albus," Perenelle said. She promptly yawned broadly, reminding Albus of the fact that he'd stirred both from their slumber and should probably let them return to their bed for whatever remained of the night hours, assuming the coffee didn't leave them tossing and turning.

Albus stood and slid his arms back into his cloak. "I should be going. I've deprived you of enough sleep," he told them, forcing a smile. "I just – I simply couldn't delay warning you that Grindelwald will probably continue to hunt for Arabella. Somewhere in her mind, the truth is waiting to be revealed, though if I have anything to say about it, that truth will never be released. I believe there are some secrets worth burying, and this is one."

"I agree completely," Perenelle added, also rising to her feet. She picked up the cups and carried them to the sink.

"He won't find us, Albus. We are too well protected. Still, if she must be hidden again, I can think of a few places that are better guarded then your brother's home," Nicholas remarked. Then a look crossed his countenance, one which Albus had come to think of as a precursor to interrogation. "Why ever did you think she was safe at Aberforth's? He's hardly the wizard that you are, Albus."

Albus smiled at his oldest friend. "Aberforth does not hide things in the way that you or I would, and he's not well known in the magical community either. One of his greatest gifts is an understanding of how to hide in plain sight – a fact which, I felt, made him in many ways safer than either of us. He would have made an amazing spy, had he determined to pursue a ministry approved vocation. It's a fact that George always found intriguing about my brother. He would have appreciated the simplicity of it..." Albus stopped, suddenly having realized something he'd not considered before. "Oh my," was all he said before making hasty goodbyes and rushing off into the predawn chill.

He spun in place, apparating in an instant to the warehouse and spelling himself invisible. The old structure had not changed much from his visit to it before. All outward appearances remained exactly as he had remembered, though no part of it was covered in snow. The month had been mild, but frequently rainy -- weather that was typical of April. The magical law enforcement team that had investigated George Ellison's death had made efforts to leave the building looking untouched in general, though it was now spelled to give muggles a sense of foreboding as they neared it. Anti-apparition charms had been placed upon it as well, and the building had magical safeguards to notify the ministry if any wizards should return to the scene of the crime. But there were ways around such safeguards, and one of them was Albus' best trick.

He assumed his animagus form and flew over the circumference of the building, eyeing everything with the sharp vision his phoenix eyes provided. The ability to shift to a magical creature gave Albus an immense advantage that most ministry wizards didn't have at their disposal, including a separate method of materializing into a new location that would not set off the notification enchantments and could not be hindered by a simple anti-apparition hex. As long as he did not set down in wizard form, the ministry need never know he had entered.

Once inside the building, he flew room by room, inspecting the space cautiously. It was not a simple matter of trying to sense magic; he had done so to no effect. His lack of success left him no choice but to search in a more traditional way. More than a few rooms had nothing of interest whatsoever, and it made the space slightly confusing. He began to wonder if he was searching the same rooms over and over. There were not even rodents or insects in most of the rooms – nothing to make one dusty room stand out from another. Finally, in a room, on the topmost floor of the warehouse, that actually did have a spider hiding in the corner of the ceiling, he sensed a masking spell, though he had to be practically on top of the magic.

As soon as he had released the masking spell, Albus could finally see what he'd been searching for. Centered on a concrete dais, the altar was a large, hollow, wooden square, covered in brass plates. The corners had carved wooden symbols on ornate oak posts. The brass surface was covered in dried blood in runic shapes. So much power crackled within the room that it sent a shiver down Albus' spine. He wondered how he could ever have missed the magic from outside the room, when the masking spell had been so simple. He also wondered how the ministry personnel had failed to notice it.

Curiosity overtook him, and Albus flew back outside the room, closing his eyes as he reached with his mind to find the magic. Strangely, he could not sense it, even though he knew very well that it was there and the masking spell had been disabled. Perhaps the "twice-blessed" description of the room covered that aspect. Albus was not sure what that meant, because the book had not gone into detail about the religious portion of the spell; that was common within very ancient enchantments. Albus was sometimes amazed that some of the feats of magic had been accomplished in centuries past, because wizards, especially during the dark ages, were so superstitious that some of the ancient religious rituals had found their way into the workings. Sometimes the religious activities did absolutely nothing for the spells, but occasionally the effects could be so altering to the scientific aspects of the magic as to make it impossible to see how anyone ever learned the difference. While Albus was not one to dispute the role of a higher power in human existence, he did not tend to be particularly religious. Of what he did believe, he could see nothing but paradox in the idea of magic so dark taking place in a room blessed by a loving god. He took a long time in processing this, for only rarely did magic stump him this completely.

Albus ultimately decided that "blessed" might be equal to "protected" and tried a few obscure test spells that were designed to reveal elaborate protection enchantments. Ultimately his suspicions were confirmed, and Albus began to understand why the altar room hadn't stood out to his senses earlier. He also wondered how magical law enforcement was going to feel when they discovered something so important left undetected at the scene of a murder. He was just about to go when an idea struck him. Returning to the room, he released one protection enchantment and magically lifted the altar and turned it over. There was nothing inside. He magically turned the whole thing over again – struggling against spells that were difficult while still in phoenix form.

Albus flew around the room, thinking. He had expected to find something hidden there. It would be like George to secret something in plain sight using Grindelwald's own protection spells to block its detection. It was not until he looked up at the ceiling, and again saw the spider, that he realized the arachnid had not moved at all.

Hoping that the remaining protection spell would keep his presence from being detected, Albus shifted to himself. The level of transfiguration he needed to return the spider to its true form was something he simply couldn't accomplish in phoenix state. Albus had known that George was a very gifted wizard and more than capable of some ingenious spells; whatever had brought about his death was more likely a fluke than an attack by a more talented wizard.

When at last he found the particular combination of magic and wand motion, Albus watched as the spider grew in size and changed from furry animal image to an inanimate object. It was angular and blocky, created of finely polished mahogany and gleaming metal – a shape reminiscent of a model locomotive, though clearly anything but. Albus stared at his find and cautiously removed the sticking charm that had attached it to the ceiling. It had been years since Albus had seen a magic lantern – a name that amused him greatly considering that the original objects had not been magic at all. But the moment he touched this one, he knew that was not the case this time. The charms that had been placed on this antique projector were strong and its purpose was probably important. Why else would Grindelwald have risked everything to find it? Why else would George have risked everything to hide it, and how had it happened?

Albus heard a sound below him. Someone else had entered the warehouse and was ascending the stairs at a rapid pace.

-.-.-

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