A/N: Second part!
"Come in," offered a raspy voice.
"Mr. Wilkins," Albus spoke with a calm amicability, still hooded and concealing his identity for the moment, "May I speak to you?"
"That depends..."
A hint of wariness. Fear perhaps.
- death, gruesome corpses, running, heartbeats raised, poisonous green light-
"My apologies, I was merely looking for a few... objects of interest." A digression first, in order to engage him in conversation. Start small.
"Well, we happen to specialize in rare antiques here, young man. Take a look around the shop."
Albus nodded as he began walking amongst the shelves, feeling the various trinkets they housed. As an aside from the mission, he pondered on their value. Most objects in such places tended to be frauds, scamming the gullible.
"That's fake," Albus said flatly as he pointed to Ravenclaw's Diadem. "It was destroyed during the Second Wizarding War."
"Well aren't you a perceptive one..." A chuckle. The shopkeeper had to keep up a pretense of friendliness. He was trying to sell something after all.
"That's also fake," Albus sighed as he held Hufflepuff's Cup and examined it in his hand. It was painful just how badly it was forged. The symbol of the badger was crudely made, as were the engraved initials of Helga Hufflepuff. "Don't you guys have anything real? Something worth buying? Something belonging to someone important-
"Do not! I don't have it!" In the split of a second, the man sounded positively terrified - and Albus knew he had found a clue.
"You know, usually people who say that tend not to be entirely truthful."
"I don't have it! I just don't-"
-flashes of green light, a whisper, Merlin's Locket, precious precious precious, invaluable, protect Merlin's Locket, don't let them get it-
"Merlin's Locket," Albus remarked with a gasp. "They were after Merlin's Locket. Sir, correct me if I'm wrong, but those who attacked your colleague, they were looking for Merlin's Locket?"
Silence.
"You can trust me," Albus said as he took off his hood, "I work for the Aurors. We're investigating his murder."
"Harry Potter?!"
"I'm his son," Albus said wryly, "But close."
"I didn't know the Aurors still gave a toss about what goes on in places like this. Five robberies, seven duels and not a single word or action from them."
"I didn't either." Albus shrugged as he made his way back to the counter. "But perhaps murder was one step too far."
A snort.
"So... just what is Merlin's Locket?" Albus asked after a pause, fixing his eyes on the other man's. Don't lie to me or else I would find out (in a polite kind of way) was the message that he was trying to convey.
The old man appeared resigned at his current state, briefly contemplating on deceiving his not-so-welcome guest before finally relenting, "It conceals magical traces, the most powerful of its kind. Legend says you put it on and no one would be able to sense you, no matter who you are. You will be able to pass off as a muggle."
"And people are after it, why do you think it is that?"
"I wouldn't know I wouldn't-"
-figures in dark cloaks, forbidden rituals, cackling laughter, the dawn of a new era, new era, change, murder-
"Dark forces are rising, Sir. That should no longer be a surprise to you," Albus speculated. "And just let me say that I don't think they will leave you alone-"
-running, panting, basement, safety-
-"It's in the basement isn't it?" Albus said with barely a whisper.
Slowly, the man nodded.
"It will be safer with us - and so will you. Come with us to our headquarters. We will provide all the necessary security. We will have you answer a few questions and then a space will be provided for your safety, where you can reside until this is all resolved."
"How was your childhood like?"
It was strange that the question didn't come up earlier. They had been dating for almost a year now - well, officially, it was a bit less than that but they had known each other for a year. He had seen glimpses of her past, he could patch together a few hypotheses, but it would have been much better to hear from Delphi herself. Somehow, it only occurred to Albus to ask her now.
"Dull. You know that I'm an orphan. Unfortunately, my foster parents were never the nurturing type," Delphi said, looking rather wistful. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful for them taking me in but-"
"No, I get it," Albus reassured her that he did as his hands wandered towards hers and clutched her tightly. She seemed to enjoy it whenever he did this ad seeing her content made him feel good too. "We all have things we didn't like about growing up. It doesn't mean we don't love those who raised us."
"What didn't you like?"
"The press, the paparazzi, the attention, the stupid expectations, people trying to get close to you for the wrong reasons..."
Delphi pressed her lips against his again. "But it's all good now," she said as she eventually pulled back, cupping his face with her hands.
Albus wondered whether if his entry in her life - like hers into his - had changed anything for her at all. Did he make her happier? Would he be the one for her, or was he ultimately just a fleeting passenger in her journey of life? He hoped it was the former. It was difficult to explain but at some point, he really started picturing a future with her. Big plans. Traveling the world, settling down, buying a house, starting a family. He wondered if she saw him the way he saw her. "Delphi... what am I to you?"
"Everything."
He could tell her voice was shaking.
Was it the torrent of emotion? Was it a flicker of doubt? What was it?
He didn't dare peer into her mind, not that he was sure if he could anyway - but he wished what she said was true.
And for that moment, he told himself that it was all real.
He held her close.
Whatever he was to her, he was sure of one thing.
He was hers. All hers.
The Locket of Merlin, it was mystifying, Albus mused as he twirled it in his hands. How does one utterly eliminate the magical trace of an object? How do the intricate mechanisms function in agreement with the Common Magical Laws? It was certainly a curious case.
What's even more curious is that a shop famed for selling fake antiques of historically valuable objects was attacked and it's shopkeeper murdered, with the Killing Curse no less. It contained forged versions of relics of Hogwarts Founders, rings of aristocrats of old and dusty parchments that bespoke of ancient correspondences.
Someone was looking for rare, valuable objects.
In a twisted way, a smuggler or thief seemed like the most preferable option, the easiest to deal with. (Then again, why would a mere smuggler go through such lengths - resorting to murder - to obtain an object like this?) A mass criminal enterprise would be slightly more dangerous to deal with. The other alternatives Albus could think of, the knowledge of the images in the man's head fully implanted in his mind, sounded much, much worse.
Could it be?
Could it be some cult?
Could a new Dark Lord be rising?
Albus' first thought was to dismiss it as unlikely, but history had taught many unsuspecting wizards that the Dark is always lurking in the corner, waiting for its chance to return. As to why now, there could only be one answer: complacency. The Wizarding World was forgetting the horrors of the Second Wizarding War and safely cushioned in a new era of peace and prosperity. Many had grown soft and naive. They had assumed that the troubles had ended, been relegated to the pages of their dreary textbooks. War was for their parents, grandparents; they had and will only know peace.
Being an Auror - being in touch with the more seedy elements of society, dealing with dark forces and even putting his life on the line at times - certainly helped dispel some sense of complacency, but Albus knew that he was not completely immune either.
He needed to pay another visit to the witness.
This time under the disguise of the Invisibility Cloak... and the Locket of Merlin.
He didn't get it. They were supposed to be fine now. He and his best mate Scorpius.
After making up for their quarrel, after meeting Delphi subsequently, Scorpius had grown distant. It was like they were drifting apart irreversibly, all the years used to forge their friendship seemingly made naught. Their daily meetings and exchanges - in spite of inhabiting the same apartment, though Albus suspected they would soon part ways - amount to a few polite nods and greetings before each went about his own business.
How did it come to this?
The worst thing was Scorpius acted as if nothing was wrong. As if it was perfectly normal, what they were both doing.
It was jarring.
There were flickers of moments when Albus doubted his own judgment. He told himself that he was most definitely overthinking everything, that they were both busy with their own lives, jobs and girlfriends and this really was nothing to worry about.
He was after all, far too engrossed in his career at the moment, which was accelerating exponentially. Out of his class of graduates, he had the best record. He had just been promoted. His life pretty much revolved around his cases - and Delphi. There was simply no time for reprieve.
If only.
There were short, brief interludes to this state. For instance, one, when Rose came over, the three chatted amicably over hot chocolate and, in that brief state of being, Albus managed to convince himself that everything was okay. And then the next day they would stop speaking again.
Albus had no idea whether Scorpius was intentional or not. He had never looked into his friend's mind - they never made any formal vows about it, but Albus made it a point of principle to never infringe on Scorpius' privacy. Besides, the guy would probably detect and intrusion anyway and, being a decent Occlumens, stood the chance of repelling any mild acts of legilimency.
If-
"Albus, are you okay?"
"Del- oh, it's you." Albus spun around to greet his sister.
"Yeah, sorry to disappoint, I'm not your girlfriend," Lily snorted. "But for real, are you okay? You seem... disorientated."
"I'm never disorientated," Albus retorted defensively.
"Something is bothering you," Lily declared.
His sister knew him too damned well. They were siblings after all.
"You're quite obvious when you brood, much more than you think," Lily quipped.
"How you wound Lilypot," Albus said, eyes rolling.
"Still that name?"
"It suits you." Albus shrugged nonchalantly as they walked down the streets of Diagon Alley.
"How's being promoted to a team-leader going for you? Any pesky little Aurors bothering you? How's Don?" Lily's stream of questions never seemed to stop.
"Oh Don... are you still dating that insufferable twerp?"
"Albus be nice!"
"He's alright - in terms of ability. I just can't stand him when he opens his mouth-"
'Albus!"
"- and living with him is practically like being exposed to toxic gas all the ti-"
"That I will have to concur."
"See? I'm right? And imagine how it would be like in bed - in the heat of the moment - when both of you are having-"
"ALBUS!"
He grinned and ruffled her hair, much to her dismay. "Just kidding Lilypot, you do you."
"Don't overwork yourself, Albus. Also, James wants to meet your girlfriend!"
The observer is lodged safely inside, surveying the exterior through a minuscule pigeonhole.
"Give it to us!" A gruff voice declared, threatening a frail, shivering old wizard who was lying prostrate on the ground.
"I... I..." The man tried to get up.
"Stand down you lowly half-blood!"
A kick.
"Please, if you may let me explain - we really don't have what you people are looking for-"
A smack in the face.
The movement had caused such force that the sleeves briefly revealed the assaulter's bare skin.
A tattoo.
The skull and the serpent.
"Lie to me again and I will end you!"
"I don't know what you are talking about-"
"LIES!"
"-please, you have to-"
"LIES!"
"-just who are you guys? Neo-Death Eaters?"
"The Sons of Walpurgis sends its regards."
A flash of sickly, poisonous green.
"I never liked overcast days," Delphi had murmured sleepily the day after one of their late night trysts.
Indeed, it was never pleasant for one to emerge out of bed and be greeted by a leaden sky. It was like day had not fully arrived.
"Tell me about it," Albus grinned as he quickly donned his clothes. A casual T-shirt and some jeans. It was the weekend so he did not have to go to work just yet. The investigation so far was going on smoothly, they had obtained all the information they needed from the witness, which only confirmed his theory, which he would have to inform his father, which would like to a host of -
He still had plenty of time to kill with his girlfriend.
"I hated the crow of the Augurey too... such an awful sound," Delphi whispered, this time more clearly.
"And yet you have an Augurey tattooed on your back," Albus mused, brushing his hands over her bare back and then wrapping them around her waist. He planted a kiss on her neck.
"It's sort of a reminder," Delphi said. "I... never mind."
"It's okay, you can tell me anything..."
"No, I mean, as much as I hated its sound, the tattoo looked pretty damned nice," Delphi chuckled.
"Whatever you say," Albus sighed before kissing her again.
"Dad, from all your years of experience, do you have an inkling as to why would someone go through all the lengths to obtain a mere object? Sure, it was a rare object with a lot of history behind it, but still an object. So, why? Why would anyone attempt murder to get their hands on it?"
Albus was in his father's office, reporting on the most recent findings of their mission. There were cracks in the evidence. Things almost added up but the crucial strings of connection fell short, became entangled with themselves and ceased to lead him to that final piece of clue.
He could see his father's brows furrowing, scouring the deepest depths of his memory and - out of pure intuition, for Albus would never dare to disrespect his father and venture into the man's mind - Albus sensed something was holding the man back. There was territory the man wasn't willing to venture. Hesitancy.
"The Sons of Walpurgis."
Harry frowned even further and looked up from his desk, eyeing his son directly.
"Dad, the attacker - he said 'The Sons of Walpurgis send their regards.' There is reason to believe - there is a case to be argued for at least, that some criminal organisation connected a Dark Lord is rising-"
"Albus," Harry interrupted him mid-sentence, "That was a very serious allegation you just made. We don't want to spread this kind of information without substantial evidence. However, I will grant that-"
"The man had a Death Eater tattoo. I saw it when I... paid a visit to the witness."
Harry sighed. "Even still, he could have simply been a Death Eater turned common criminal-"
"That is a possibility, but there's just a - call it sixth sense if you will that there's more to this. The Locket of Merlin- " Albus took it out of his pocket and showed his father, who frowned.
"Did you take-"
"They were after this very locket. According to the witness, an assistant to the shopkeeper, it could conceal all signs of magic on its wearer, passing them off as muggles or making them untraceable. At least that's what I've gathered so far and my colleagues, through their own research, have discovered that it was lost in history-"
"Albus, did you take this locket from the witness, without informing any of your colleagues?" Harry finally managed a successful interjection. The man was serious, his tone visibly unamused, unhappy even.
"It's safer with me-"
"Albus-"
"You're diverting-"
"Albus-"
"Alright, you can have it." A slam. His father was missing the point and frustration gripped him, worming its way into his bones. "There you go."
"Albus, in any other circumstance, this would have been grounds for a category one rebuke from me but seeing as you possess good intentions and considering the severity of the situation, count yourself lucky."
"Why would anyone go after this? Rare objects in general?" Albus asked bluntly, ignoring his father's words. It seemed urgent; there was no time to waste. "Why would potential Dark Lords - to disguise themselves! It must be, right?"
There was no response from his father, who still appeared to be deep in thought. Albus had long learned that there was no point in luring an answer, for Harry was far too experienced in these matters to grant that.
If his father wanted to say something, then all the better.
If his father was holding information back, Albus would find out himself.
Having a girlfriend who was a private contractor for an intelligence service had its perks, Albus was only beginning to realise that. Delphi seemed to know everything. Secrets mundane and bizarre, illicit and banal. After all, she had imparted plentiful knowledge onto him, taught him useful spells that saved his life, slipped a few clues that sealed crucial cases and, most importantly, made him believe himself.
There were times when Albus momentarily wavered, a small quivered that barely raised any hairs. But in these moments, doubt occurred.
Was it right?
Was it right for him to forcefully wrench the information out of the resistant old man's mind - even if, at that time, he was dealing with a missing child? Was all the tortuous actions worth it? Should it have been done?
Was it right for him to hide the details of a case from his colleagues and venture into Knockturn Alley on his own?
Was it right for him to fraternize with the bar owner at that dingy place at the corner street?
Was it right for him to maim the attacker, beyond the usual Stunning Spells, that one time when the woman had tried to get away? All her bones were broken by a brutal spell and Albus did not glance at his teammates' faces. There was no need at the time. The consequences of her stealing that crucial parchment from the Department of Mysteries would simply be too unthinkable.
Would it ever be right for him to kill another man or woman? For the greater good?
Would it?
That was a question he could never bring himself to answer.
He simply did not know.
The philosophical ponderings on the value of life, of good and evil, of justice and injustice, were all too abstract for him to relate to.
"Something's bothering you."
There she was again, kissing him and wrapping her arms around his back and making him feel okay again, dispelling all his sources of irritation.
"A case," Albus muttered. "It's important - and I think my father is hiding something from me."
She gently turned him around to face her. "I might be able to help. My boss has a lot of useful documents I can poach."
"The Death Eaters," Albus said, "I need to know what was behind them."
Marveling at her ability to find out just about anything, Albus grinned as he sat down beside her on his own bed. This time around, she was over at his flat.
"I know what you want to know," Delphi explained, and did he or did he not notice a mysterious smile on her, a sweet, illicit confession, forbidden knowledge shuddering through her veins as her small body quivered ever so slightly against his, "But first things first, cast a charm around this room. We don't want anyone outside hearing about it."
It wasn't as if Scorpius would care. These days, they barely acknowledge each other with a nod. After work, he would go back to their shared apartment, avoiding any human contact and lodge himself in bed, being exhausted and drained and sapped of the will to interact. Albus had no idea precisely when things went so bad, but it seemed difficult for him to conjure a scenario where things are salvaged. Perhaps such is the course of life, people drifting in and people drifting out - only some people are out of mind, but not out of sight.
"Done." A smirk. Don't let her see what's inside of you.
"Have you ever heard about Horcruxes?" Delphi whispered as her blues eyes locked onto his green eyes. There was a tranquility between the two media of exchange, but Albus could sense a ripple in the surface. He knew this feeling, this premonition that Delphi would introduce something ... ominous to him again - no, not ominous, illicit, forbidden, maybe. Delphi could never be ominous to him.
"As a matter of fact, no."
"Your father never mentioned anything about it?"
"No, should he have?"
"Well, I supposed it made sense. Horcruxes, Albus, from what I've read, are the darkest, foulest magic one can possibly conceive," Delphi explained after taking a deep breath, as if the very pronunciations shook her to the core. "They essentially help one achieve... immortality. They do that because a portion of the soul is encased within it. If the body was destroyed, part of the soul remains in the mortal realm and thus one cannot die."
"What are you on about? How-"
"Shh..." She placed a finger against his lips, ushering him to be quiet. "Murder, Albus, murder is what tears the soul, for it is a violation of nature, to so willingly wish for someone's death and remain without remorse. Then, a spell is cast and a foul ritual initiated to permanently lodge one's soul in the object of one's choosing. And the reason I'm telling you this?" - she seemed to catch the puzzlement in his features - "These Horcruxes - they were exactly what kept the Dark Lord alive. Your father had to destroy them one by one by one..."
"Are you suggesting someone was trying to make the Locket of Merlin into a Horcrux? But why - why couldn't they just use any random thing if they wanted to make one - their grandma's underpants, a nameless pebble in the ocean, their wedding ring - why this?"
"My guess is, perhaps, a desire for grandeur? After all, no self-respecting Dark Lord or Lady would turn their grandmother's underpants into a sacred relic."
Albus chuckled. "You have a point. There's also the fact that the Locket masks all magical traces, including malicious influences Hocruxes must emit. Still, this is just dumb, picking such a monumental object, so obvious, so predictable. Self-delusion appears to be a common trait amongst the many Dark Lords of the past. And self-righteousness. And bouts of confirmation bias."
Delphi cracked up too.
"No matter," Albus continued, "The Locket is in safe hands and we're close to rounding in on the suspects. All will be fine."
And they made more love.
Another night out with his beloved girlfriend. Butterbeers on the table, faces lit up and engrossed in each other's sight and scent.
Truly, by now, Scorpius could ascertain that Rose Weasley was the single most important individual in his life and no one would ever measure up to that. Back in the day, back when they were still in Hogwarts or when they were still fresh out of Hogwarts, perhaps Albus Potter rivaled her - heck, even surpassed her in terms of people he cared about - but these days were long gone. Now it was only Rose.
"By the way, how's Albus doing? Lily says he's stressed about work and still as smitten with Delphi as ever," Rose, out of the blue, just had to ask him.
They had not interacted much, though Scorpius would like to think that it was mostly the result of both of them being too absorbed in their own careers and love lives. Delphi. He sensed something earlier in the week, a rather sinister presence in their flat - though he never found the opportunity to bring it up to Albus - that bordered on speculation and intuition. It was this feeling that foul magic was at work, that beneath the sweet whispers he could seemingly sense from the other side - okay, mostly imagine - that beneath them, lurked an ulterior motive.
Something was wrong with Delphi. Something had to be. Amidst the alabaster moonlight, foreboding dawned on Scorpius again.
"Delphi," Scorpius uttered, "Albus is all heads over her. I wouldn't be surprised if he killed a man for her." He tried to switch to a humorous tone, but quickly attempted to withdraw after realising just how clunky and inappropriate it was. Still, the damage was done -
"Oh Scorpius don't say that!" Rose complained. "My cousin's a bit like that! He gets all obsessed with each romantic partner or target and goal. He just needs some breathing space and support from us."
"I don't like her," Scorpius admitted, "She gives me a bad feeling."
"Well, she's going to be around a lot now that she's dating Albus so you better get used to her. Besides, she was fine when we met up together, wasn't she?"
There were not point in disputing Rose, for he did not have any concrete evidence to substantiate his refutations. Anyhow, he did not want to ruin the atmosphere of their date either by dwelling on things they could not change. It was a night between them and them only. Besides, Albus seemed happy, albeit stressed, and as long as Albus was happy, everything would be alright.
Ambition has often been described as the downfall of many humans. Yet where would we be without it? We are irrevocably drawn to it because it offers purpose, meaning and excitement in life; it then compels us to cast away complacency – and the secure things we care about. Sometimes we climb so high along the ladder and the epiphany hits us: what was the point of it all? All of a sudden, doubt creeps over you. Why at all? Mankind's progress is but a string of ambitions, mankind's failures and tragedies – war, greed, envy – all the result of ambitions too. Like an ouroboros, we circle around ambition, devouring ourselves while making our way to the future. It's never enough to doom us, never enough to save us.
And where does love - Eros, the libido, passion, gentleness, company - fit into all of this?
Albus knew he was driven by ambition; after all, that was what ultimately landed him in the house of green and silver. Yet there was a certain nebulous quality to it as - motivated as he was - he was perpetually engulfed in a directionless quest for meaning. He knew where he wanted to next, but never the final destination. He knew what success tasted like, what failure tasted like, namely something that made success even more delectable, yet the overall purpose was lacking, a nameless blob on the menu. All his life he was driven by the desire to live up to his name, to become a person in his own right and yet here he was, rising through the ranks of the Auror department and feeling as lost as ever.
When Delphi entered his life, Albus started caring more about other things. Sure, he had friends - ex-friends perhaps - that he had cared deeply about, siblings he loved and a couple of ex-girlfriends that he pleasured his days with, but Delphi felt different. It was like she cured part of his malaise of meaninglessness. That whenever he was with her, his life goals suddenly didn't matter anymore. That he can confidently shout and scream on the top of his voice - not that he ever would - to hell with this life! He was free, free and contented.
In the midst of his contemplations, which elicit a feeling of light euphoria in his head, the door to the living room creaked open and Scorpius entered it alone. Their eyes met and he gave a polite nod, which Scorpius returned tepidly. No luck of conversation tonight it is. Momentarily, Albus wondered whether it was worth it to at least give things a try. Start with a: how are you? How have you been? Feel like grabbing some hot cocoa or firewhisky - if you're feeling it tonight - and belt out our sorrows? At least tell me how things are with you? We've known each other for more than ten years and this is all you can muster after we've been like this for months? Where did it all go where did all-
The door to Scorpius' room shut.
Perhaps a night of whiskey alone would suit him just fine. He was not really close with his colleagues, who were always friendly at work, but not people he would sporadically invite over. He always had an inkling that they respected him as a colleague - some as a superior - but that there was always a sense of distance between them. Some were cordial enough to grab coffee with him from time to time or invite him over for dinner. But it just wasn't the same as it was with Scorpius.
His old friends in Hogwarts all parted their own ways. Lawrence was now in America working as a research assistant in Ilvermorny, Darius was traveling across the Amazon rainforest as a botanist, Lucas was married with two children and engrossed in family life, Cornelius was touring the world with his band...
At the ripe age of 25, the prime of his youth, Albus Severus Potter realised just how friendless he was.
He was lost. But with Delphi he was found. He was found.
His phone buzzed.
It read:
Want to come over? ;)
A smile on his part.
Another buzz:
I made us cookies.
Something was bothering his colleague, Thomas MacLaggen noted. Albus was normally a very responsive, effective, assured and, at times, intimidating character. (Not that he found Albus intimidating, but some of their Junior Aurors definitely did.) Today, the guy seemed absent-minded, mildly irritable. His eye bags were showing as he perused through the most recent case files. He did not appear interested in conversation.
A shame. Thomas always enjoyed Albus' company, even though the guy can be a bit much at times. They weren't the closest of friends back in Hogwarts, where they were in different years, placed in different houses and where Albus did not appear interested at all in interacting with him. Still, the guy was decent enough once they were put in the same team. Albus was also - without question - one of the rapid risers. Being a year younger than him, Thomas was sure the guy was up for promotion again. And like most of his colleagues, he would whole-heartedly vouch that it would not be an act of nepotism.
There was something off about Albus today.
Still, he needed to start a conversation and inform the guy about a possible breakthrough.
"Albus, we have the identities of the killers. Their names are Bjarn Lovsen and Vacilius Nott," Thomas finally spoke out and handed the guy two photographs, "Here are their postulated identifications."
"Vacilius Nott... might he be related to Lawrence Nott?" Albus' eyebrows were raised as he browsed through the handouts. "Then again, most large and old pureblood families are a confusing, incestuous entanglement. Is he one of those who landed in Azkaban?"
"According to our investigations, he was previously arrested for minor offenses such as theft, possibly became radicalized through prison and then was released a couple of years ago," Thomas explained.
"I do remember... a... friend of mine - Lawrence - once told me that a wayward relative of his was sentenced into prison. Yes, that made sense. The appeal of a pureblood supremacist ideology must be considerable on a young man with little talent, future or worth other than the entirely imaginary elevations bestowed by an old bloodline."
"Well, if you choose to put things that way," Thomas said.
"There should be more of his kind. I know, I went to school with some of them."
It was weird how it all seemed so unsurprising for Albus. Like he had expected all of this.
"Also, was thinking," Thomas asked, "How does coffee this afternoon sound for you?"
Albus blinked, looking almost incredulous. "Sure, fine by me."
"We don't talk anymore," Albus - with his childishly endearing attempt to portray himself as a serious man - complained to her one afternoon. "Scorpius and I, we used to be best friends. It used to be us against the world - well, sort of, that's a bit of an exaggeration. But now we can barely manage a nod when we see each other and we still live in the same fucking house."
"Don't worry," Delphi coaxed him, "If he's meant to say in your life, he will-"
"Oh, he'll stay in my life definitely. He's off to marry my cousin Rose. Their wedding shouldn't be too far away and I must admit, him moving out would be a source of relief... I can't believe I just said that. What the hell is wrong with me-"
"It's fine Albus, it's all fine. Your reaction is perfectly normal," Delphi assured him with a sweet smile. "He doesn't understand what an amazing person you are."
"Oh, he's known me for more than 10 years, known me inside and out. If there's a shred of splendor in me, he would have long detected it-"
"Stop putting yourself down Albus!" Delphi raised her voice. "If there's anything - and I mean it - you're possibly the first person I came to love. In your life people will come and go, but - you - the person in the mirror will always remain the same. Be good to yourself. Remember to value yourself just as much as I do, alright?"
And for a brief moment, she tucked all her machinations to turn him against the people he cared about to the back of her mind and for the fragment of a second, he was the only man who truly loved her.
She scratched the thought from her mind. Love was a folly, wasn't it? Hadn't it always been what Euphemia Rowle etched into her mind ever since she had known how to walk? Certainly, Euphemia Rowle never really loved her, preferring to view her as a tool, as a weapon to resurrect a cause dear to her heart. Certainly, her henchmen did not love her, viewing her instead with fear and awe. No, the close level of intimacy, the idea that she was valued for the person she is and nothing more, only Albus could give her that.
Stop.
"I love you Albus. Please remember to love yourself too."
"I love you too, Delphi. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you."
"... Me too."
She mentally recoiled when she realised that she completely meant it. She would be no tool to the Rowles; he was no tool of hers either, but a companion. Slowly, but surely, she could start to picture them living side by side, her waking up next to him every morning, him confiding all the issues in the world to her, him joining her with her cause, standing by her side as they took over Britain and then the world, her belling swelling with their children, who they would dedicate the world to, them growing old and marveling at what they created together... It seemed so far yet so near. Could he really join her? Could he really - given the strong shadow of his family's legacy and his personal convictions? She dared to hope.
Was it really love?
"A Horcrux. This, unknown Dark Lord was trying to make a Horcrux!"
Albus burst into his father's office in the afternoon after he, along with his colleagues, whom he spared the details of the Horcrux, connected the dots to the murder case. Unfortunately, it was, at present, also inhabited by Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, who were appearing very stunned.
"They're recruiting disaffected youth, a hodgepodge of former criminals and possibly some backers among a few select members of old pureblood families - my team are still working to identify them. There is still a chance we can nip this in the bud and prevent the whole furor surrounding Voldemort and the Death Eaters. In fact, there's a very good chance of us doing that-"
"Albus, slow down," Aunt Hermione instructed. "Harry has informed me of your findings, don't worry. And I won't be another Cornelius Fudge with his head in sand management, but we need to have a better understanding. Tell us all you know."
"The killers are Bjarn Lovsen, a wizard with Nordic ancestry and drop-out of Durmstrang, as well as Vacillius Nott. The findings have also traced their operation source to a nominally unplottable area. More than that, it appears they have received help from - according to sources in the Griffin's Bane pub - at least four other figures, whose identities are yet to be known. They all appear to be bankrolled by the Rowles. Now, the Rowles, I'm sure you all must know, were strong Death Eater sympathisers that could not be fully trialed due to insufficient evidence as well as insufficient proof of action during Voldemort's rule. We have enough evidence to conduct a raid now, I believe, if only you would authorise it. I believe may even provide evidence to prosecute the Rowles, which would be critical."
Silence swirled around the room.
"Do it," Hermione commanded.
Harry looked as if he was about to protest.
"Your son is dead serious about this."
"Your team alone may not be enough," Harry finally said, sighing with weariness. "We will have to send a larger unit and an auxiliary unit of curse-breakers. And you will need even more findings on this organisation. Our operations need to be laser-sharp."
A/N: Reviews are love :D