Rose Weasley felt light-headed. She was getting engaged. He had gotten down on his knees, pulled out a ring and asked her to be his other half in life. Fresh from her most recent Quidditch victory as a Holyhead Harpy Chaser, with him rushing down the pitch towards her, the euphoria flushed through her.
"I love you, I love you so much."
"I love you too."
It had been a long journey. They weren't exactly close buddies in school. She had an army of admirers and he was always rather reticent to ask her out, whether due to fear of rejection, entanglements with her females or her - admittedly - short-sighted pettiness. Still, they were partly drawn together because her cousin Albus was a mutual acquaintance and they slowly bonded after Scorpius persisted languished at the Potter household during holidays. Slowly, but surely, the universe - or more like Albus and James and Lily and Hugo - conspired to bring them together.
And now all that was left was tying the knot.
"I'm getting engaged," Scorpius murmured to his flatmate Albus, who was musing over the coffee machine.
It had been ages since they last spoke properly. In truth, the longer it lasted, the more disheartened and disinterested Scorpius began to feel. His friend was drifting away, from him, from their mutual friends, from his old life. Albus had grown far more secretive, fare more reticient to speak about his feelings. Then there was the whole matter with Delphini Diggory, whom Scorpius still harboured mistrust for.
Days became weeks and weeks became months - until Scorpius suddenly realised he no longer knew the guy who used to be his best friend. At least not in his mind. Albus had been perpetually out and up late, pouring over work documents or being with that girl.
"Congratulation," Albus replied with a small and terse smile. "When's the wedding?"
"About half a year later."
"I see."
Scorpius no longer knew what to say anymore. Maybe this is the course of life: old friends grow apart and there was no use mourning over it. Still...
"Honestly, how have you been, Scorpius?" Albus inquired further, feet shifting slightly.
"I've been good."
"Only good, Merlin's pants, you just got engaged and good is the only description you could muster?"
A wry grin.
"Well, now that you put things that way, I'm over the moon."
"No really, what have you been up to recently?"
"Asides from my engagement, not much. Job is going on nicely, dined with my future in-laws a couple of times, started watching some muggle tv shows... Pretty bland really. How's your Auror life going?" Words were slowly coming out, with every breath being easier than the next.
"Um, it's been interesting. Working on a highly classified case. Potentially dangerous. Someone has been murdered and the implications are not small."
"Merlin's beard! And how far are you along the case?"
"It's progressing decently. We have the suspects. We just need to capture them. Delphi's actually been great help-"
"You told her classified details of your case?" Scorpius interrupted sceptically. That woman again.
"Now that you've put things that way, yes."
"Why, of course." A snort.
"What matters is that the information she's provided has been critical -"
"It was classified. Heck, look at how mum you are about it now."
"You know, Scorpius. I've been debating about whether to tell you this or not -"
"Stop trying to-"
"It's important. For you, for Rose, for your current family, future family. Right? Just listen to me on this for once. A Dark movement inspired by the Death Eaters is rising again. They're recruiting criminals and possibly disaffected members of old pureblood families. They may not look too kindly upon you. Be careful." Albus snapped. "Now excuse me, I have a date to go to."
Then he left the room.
The Ministry are a cravenly bunch, really. Uninterested in protecting wizarding interests when wizards and witches already constitute a minority in this world. Muggles have been outbreeding them since time immemorial and that itself was no problem - every elite class, after all, needs sustenance from an underclass. No, it was the fact that any pride, unapologetic pride, at being a wizard is seemingly quashed by the current government, deemed as being uncomfortably similar to the days of the Death Eaters. There were ministers openly talking about lifting the veil of secrecy and integrating with the muggles, allowing muggle shops to open in Diagon Alley - a vocal minority, but nevertheless, something that would never have been allowed back in the good old days Euphemia Rowle used to speak about. As if allowing muggleborns to enter wizarding society - and serve as Minister of Magic! - whilst ignoring the pureblood wizarding aristocracy, those whose existence and roots are entwined with magic and magic alone, was bad enough.
Seething in anger, frustration, her followers nodded as they listened to her speech. Their views are but a minority at this moment, but soon, Britain would come into agreement. The ordinary wizarding folk would come to their senses - regardless of blood origin, regardless of who they are, so long as their loyalties lie with magic - and see what the Sons of Walpurgis were seeing. Even him.
He would come around. And if he didn't she'd have other plans. But he would, oh he would.
"Well really, there's a saying that you never talk politics or religion amongst recent acquaintances, so I'll spare you guys my opinion on the Brazilian Magical Government's Muggleborn Integration Legislation, but yes, I have heard about it from the papers, Mr and Mrs. Diggory."
He was meeting her family for the first time. Her foster parents and adopted brother Koralius.
"Oh don't hold back on your opinions, Albus. Delphi has said you harbour a very articulate mind and strong opinions. We're basically family now, right?" Mrs. Diggory gave a warm, encouraging smile. "In our family, we thrive off debates."
"Well, I suppose I'm not in favour of it. You see, I think taking away muggleborn children away from their parents and putting them in foster homes by the age of 5 is a terrible idea. One, I see this legislation as missing the key issue, which is that muggleborns in Brazil remained marginalised in Wizarding Society. Two, separating children from their parents at 5 is bound to cause some level of trauma. Three, I'm sceptical about large-scale co-operations between Wizarding and Muggleborn governments, given that the vast majority of Wizarding governments in the recent past, Brazil's included, have largely operated separately, with either Prime Minister and President being the sole line of communication. If gone wrong, especially considering the massive scale of this, it could leave the whole Wizarding World exposed - then again, that's only the worst case scenario. I'm not Brazilian, there's a limit to my perspective." Albus finally finished his long-winded, incogent, half-botched political analysis.
"You're right, it is an absolutely terrible idea," Mr. Diggory nodded.
"It's well-intentioned though," Albus said as he took a sip of the water, "But well-intentioned things don't always go well."
"That's true, what was the saying again?"
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Delphi remarked.
- good intentions? damned muggles and blood trait -
"Sorry, didn't catch that..." Albus thought he heard a flicker of disdain, but suppressed a small frown.
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Delphi repeated with a chuckle.
"My apologies, I was day-dreaming..."
"Like he always does." Delphi playfully ribbed him.
"So, how did you and my sister meet?" Koralius inquired.
"Well..."
It was all in all, a decent night. The Diggorys seemed like an amiable bunch, friendly, conversational, polite. Delphi was, from time to time, a little annoyed, no doubt the standard reaction upon seeing your parents interact with your boyfriend the first time. He learned some things about them. They were unable to produce children in their younger years and not soon after accepting this harsh reality, they found Delphi at their doorstep. They made sure to raise her properly, not indulge her and were strict on her magical schooling in spite of her early sickness. When she was six, they adopted Koralius into the family.
And yet, even as they seemed like an ordinary family, with its ups and downs, that earlier voice, perhaps a not too well suppressed thought, nagged at the back of his head.
Something felt wrong.
It wasn't the setting, which was a comfortable home. Not quite Malfoy Manor, but far more established than the Burrow. It wasn't the fact that Koralius kept coughing - really, Albus didn't mind. It wasn't the fact that her parents seemed to love talking about politics, even as Albus constantly strove to get away from the topic because, really, he was used to it and they seemed to appreciate his opinions at least superficially.
It was Delphi's reaction throughout the whole scene. Albus was never the most perceptive person in the world, though he was close to it. He noticed that she continued to frown ever so slightly. There were times when he thought she would utter a few lines in contradiction, times when she looked into his eyes and a flicker of imagination told him that she wanted to get away, times when cracks appeared on the facade.
There was no rational explanation, really, no well-proven thesis. Just a sixth sense.
"Sorry, I know my parents can be a bit much," Delphi told him after he entered her chambers in her family house. "Hope that, uh, didn't bother you too much."
"Not one bit," Albus said with a smirk as his fingers wandered to her shirt's buttons.
"Oh, Albus! Stop thinking so dirty all the time!"
"If you so wish," Albus remarked with a faux-disappointed shrug and wandered to the far side of the room.
"I'm serious, Albus. I... we don't have to keep doing this, you know. We can..."
"I'm listening?"
"Never mind. You're doing great. They - I've been hesitant to tell you this Albus, but my adopted parents, I was surprised at their demeanor tonight, really. They're normally far less polite and welcoming. Back when I was little, they used to..." Her voice choked and faded. She stepped a little closer to him. "They used to beat me. Yell at me. Call me names. They weren't very nurturing, I think I've told you before. It wasn't just strictness. Then there's the fact they hold less than savory views on certain current affairs..."
Lips quivering, she looked as if she was about to say more, but instead, simply buried herself in his shirt. For some reason, he liked it when she did that - he wished she did that more often actually, letting her guard down and showing him that people can be both vulnerable and strong. Holding her close was also a plus. But her words, this time, produced more than that.
Unease.
Something in the picture was missing.
"Less than savory views... you don't mean that they were pu-"
"Very old-fashioned," Delphi said before he could finish his sentence. "My brother and I don't agree with their views at all, needless to say. They're not - I hope this doesn't change anything between us..."
"Of course it won't. Nothing will."
He could feel her heart palpitating as she stood close to him. Nothing had ever mattered, nothing would stop them from being together. If her parents disapproved, if they're not pleasant company, then they'll just have to get around with it. All that mattered was her and him.
Oh little Alby, what to make of him? They were standing so close to each other, inside her old room, where Euphemia Rowle would lock her in with nothing but spellbooks until she mastered the next task. Screams, coupled with manipulative sweet words about her being the savior to carry the torch to the next generation, the twisted nature of it all. A place of pain, of resentment, of a time when she was deprived of love - almost respected by virtue of her blood, but unloved, yet it was almost bearable with him around.
But he should have been no more than a tool. A means to an end. Yet all of a sudden he wasn't. Not in her head.
As he spoke with the Rowles, her fictitious adopted parents, Delphi felt herself shaking on the inside. How she wished the facade were real, that it really was a normal meeting between a normal woman and her boyfriend and her parents. So picturesque, so forbidden, so far away.
They could rule the world together. They would.
The Rowles are nothing compared to what's between them.
They-
"Delphi, is something wrong?"
- he has to be the one, the only one. No one else was compatible, but more importantly, desirable. There was still much he did not know about her, but it did not matter, for he read her better than most-
"Is something bothering you? You look worried."
To divulge or to withhold. Two paths stand before her.
She turned around and eyed him. "I've been thinking about us... in the long term. We've been together for three years now and we're both clearly serious about all of this, so I was wondering, just what is stopping us from..."
Standing before the veil with Delphi, observing the flecks of dust float through the portal, for the first time in his life, Albus experienced an irrational impulse to cross to the other side - that must have been in its design. It was meant to tempt the curious, those who dared to venture afar. It would ensnare them on an irreversible journey, the daring and fortuitous. Fortunately, Harry's tales of Sirius Black's death was a healthy dose of immunisation against such thoughts. His overall disinterest in the subject of death another.
Death was one of the few mysteries that Albus had little interest for. What once enraptured the minds of austere philosophers, nihilistic wanderers and narcissistic egomaniacs alike came more as an afterthought to him. After all he was young and the young tend to bask in the spell of their own immortality, acting as if their lives had little limits. The fragility of existence itself was a fragile concept, understandable on the abstract but obscure in the concrete. There was no fear of the oblivion either, for Harry had already imparted him with the knowledge of afterlife when he was a very young boy - the image of Albus Dumbledore at an empty King's Cross flaring across his mind - so what was there to worry about? Such is simply the inevitable, logical conclusion to life: one was born, one lives and, finally, one departs the mortal realm. The dead were on the other side, so what made death unnerving anyway?
No such luck for Delphi, who looked like she was about to take another step towards it. Albus gently pulled her back.
It was late at night and they were alone, at the heart of the Department of Mysteries. At Delphi's insistence, Albus had pulled a few strings, utilised a few perks and connections, to get them there. She simply wanted to see it, to ponder on the state of her unknown parents, to look at the closest thing to death and afterlife in the eye. He could not refuse such a request. So there they are.
The eerie light of the veil gleamed on her new silver ring, embedded with sapphires. Lily had helped him pick it.
"Have you ever thought about what's on the other side?" Delphi asked.
"Not really, I mean, I kind of know what's over there - well not really, but does it really matter?"
"Of course, most of your loved ones are still here."
"I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine, I understand."
"It's not just that Delphi. When my father sort-of died back at the Battle of Hogwarts, he went there - well at least he was in limbo. All I know was that there was another side, so those who died are not really gone after all. I just figured that pondering about afterlife is kind of pointless. Better to focus your efforts on this world and hope for the best in the next."
"I see," Delphi said, nodding.
"Don't move too close to it," Albus remarked as he saw her feet shift again.
"Sorry, I don't even know why, it's a stupid idea for me to come here, to bring us here -"
"No, I understand."
"I just, I wonder whether it's possible to cross to the other side, to even glimpse at my parents. I suppose it's folly."
"Well, from what I've heard, you die when you try to cross that."
"I know... Do you want to grab chicken?" Almost on cue, her stomach growled.
Albus chuckled - way to switch topics. "Fried chicken nuggets from McDonald's?"
Delphi nodded with a wry grin.
"Not again," Albus moaned. "When will you see the light and understand that McDonald's utter trash - American trash!"
Delphi guffawed and for a moment, they forgot where they were. In each other's arms, nothing else seemed to exist. Reality constituted of each other, melding into one. Inseparable.
Her forces are amassing, slowly but surely. She had sent Bjarn to negotiate with wild werewolf packs, gauging their interest, their resentments at being restrained by the increasingly cumbersome magical laws. She had sent recruits to all the nooks and crannies, the wretched crevices, of wizarding society. People were interested. Years of subjection and stagnation had made people restless. Peace bred weakness. And people were tired of it.
"Let our sons and daughters rise up to fight, for the very existence of magic will be at sake. When muggles dominate us and our traitorous government caves in, there will only be us. Let the magical blood that flows through our veins, the thousands of years of history, be a reminder that we will not perish in vain! Our society no longer values strength. These soft administers that dictate our laws have made our children soft too! Well, Mrs. Granger, how do you explain the ridiculous influx of muggleborns - your kind - into our society, who have no respect for wizarding traditions? These muggleborns - they want wizarding society to disappear... and it will, my friends, if we don't do anything about it. This is our last fighting chance! But tonight, I see all of you in front of me - and I know the world is saved. Because you, the brave and valiant few, will rise up! Rise up and defend your homeland!"
A polite smile was all he gave to his former best-friend as he swerved towards his cousin and planted a polite kiss on her cheeks. "Can't believe Rosie is getting married! Can't wait to see with you many little ones you're going to be popping out- hey!" A small smack was enough to elicit a laugh from both of them. Scorpius stood by mildly awkwardly as Albus continued to offer his congratulations. It was a strange sensation. A few years ago, they would have been fist-bumping and patting each other on their backs. Albus would have been the one to give Scorpius his best man's speech - now he would be giving Rose's instead. How times have changed, changed people.
"I hear you're getting married soon," Rose said with a wink. "Send Delphi my love! I'm sorry she can't be hear today. Fevers are indeed terrible." Unlike Scorpius, there was no problem at all.
"The word sure gets around fast," Albus chuckled.
Scorpius appeared to shift uncomfortably, which made Albus frown. Was the guy somehow unhappy? He couldn't resist it, not anymore. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, nothing. Congratulations, mate. Hope she makes you happy."
Their old housemates had finally re-congregated. There was Douglas Bulstrode, the Appleby Arrow's renowned chaser with a new witch on his arm every single day; there was Lucas Lowe, now married to a muggle billionaire heiress and with two children, living a double life as a muggle philanthropist and a contributor for the Wizarding Weekly; there was Lawrence Nott, now an increasingly respected professor of Charms in Ilvermorny, independent of his past family name; there was Darius Greengrass who had traversed the vast expanses of the Amazon rainforest and progressing with his botany research; there was Duke Greengrass, the other twin, who was now a celebrity chef that owned one of the hottest new restaurants in Diagon Alley; there was Cornelius Mulciber, slave to his sordid name no longer, washing them away with catchy (godawful) pop tunes that swooned the hearts of young witches; there was Hector Morrison, a political journalist for the Daily Prophet.
And, finally, him and Scorpius, the groom of the wedding who was without a best man.
Was it really normal?
Of course it was.
It was as if no one had to know.
They could definitely try to keep up their pretenses. For a while at least. Hopefully long enough.
Lawrence enveloped Albus in a bone-crushing hug as they saw each other. They then proceeded to update each other about their lives, peppered with warm platitudes - and a small underlying sense of unease. In spite of this merry occasion, something was amiss. Heck they were Slytherin and experts at discerning hidden signals, Albus should have expected nothing less.
"Albus, how's being an Auror going for you?" Lawrence ventured. More unease. The man was shifting. Old habits die hard.
"Working on a case, as always," Albus replied with a tired grin. "Sleep is a luxury these days. What about 'Professor Nott'? I hear you've acquired quite the reputation in America. It's nice to hear."
"Thanks I'm working on it Albus. Though I must admit, I'm not really used to being in a position of authority where I'm chiding all the rambunctious kids instead of, you know, being one of them," Lawrence chuckled. His feet shifted again. They were dancing around something.
"Spill it Lawrence, what's wrong."
"Perceptive as always. Seriously Albus," Lawrence said as his voice quieted, "You must have heard about my cousin Vacillius? Look, I know my family - ancestors or whatever - haven't been the most receptive of muggleborns - heck, Cantankerous practically coined the Sacred 28 - but... you know most of us aren't like that anymore, right? There are some old purebloods, a select few in my family, at least from what I've garnered during family renunions, that are... nostalgic for the old ways... There's this thing, this organisation-"
"The Son's of Walpurgis?"
"Yeah - yeah - them-"
"Yeah I've heard about them. What an unoriginal name am I right?"
A stifled chuckle, barely able to mask frustration. "Yeah they're one of the reasons why I'm going to reduce my travel to England as much as possible. Visit me in Ilvermorny all you want, Albus, but I'm not coming back until it's all over."
"You think there's going to be something big?"
"I don't know. It's just, when you're unpleasant relatives with unsavoury and reactionary opinions suddenly find a concrete channel to advocate for their views, well, I don't want to deal with them. You know?"
"I understand."
"Now, onto something more cheerful: how is Scorpius doing? More importantly, how on earth did he manage to get into Rose Weasley's pants?"
Albus guffawed at how abruptly Lawrence changed his tone from grave to cheerful. As they chatted and patted each other on their backs while walking towards bride and groom, it was as if the old days never changed.
The couple were chatting with Lucas, who was, at present, offering unsolicited advice on parenthood (all the 'no we want to take our time' or ' please, Lucas, slow down' fell onto deaf ears) as well as Hector and Duke.
"SCORPIUS! How's my man doing?!"
Hugs, fistbumps, secret bro greetings, sign of the old times - pretending like nothing was wrong at all. Albus joined in too and, as if a veneer had been placed over their faces and pliable bodies, him and Scorpius were carting as if they were still best mates. Sort of. They smiled and grinned at each other, cracked a few superficial jokes while Hector casually evoked jokes regarding the homoerotic nature of their relationship, a not uncommon recurrence back in the good old days.
More talking, more reminiscing, more drinks and even more drinks, as the conversations continued at the guest table. The rest of their mates joined them too, some with their other halves.
Delphi was not there though.
"When are we going to see mini Albuses popping out soon?" Rose joked as the rest joined in with the laughter.
"Well that would be quite the challenge for the rest of the world," Hector chimed in.
Albus was never enamoured with inebriation. Since becoming an Auror, when the blurring of your senses by alcohol can induce you to make unwise decisions, his drinking habits have been drastically curtailed.
And yet that night, he drank his heart out.
"You're getting married? With her? Albus, I-"
"Oh please, Scorpius, not now-"
"You never told anyone! Not Rose, not your parents, not your family, not me-"
"And pray, tell, why would I? It was only a few weeks ago, the wedding won't be till a while later. There's still time."
"Albus, I - it's just, it's Delphi-"
"And your problem being..."
"I'm concerned Albus! I'm concerned about the influence she has over you, you're - you're not acting like yourself anymore and it's been like this for so, so long-"
"Then why are you only approaching me about this now? We've been friends for years and then all of a sudden, you treat me like crap. Well, not necessarily in a malicious way, but when was the last time we hung out like mates? When was the last time we talked properly and not because we were socially compelled to? You complain about Delphi all the time and yet she's been a better friend and companion that you. I was stressed and sick and, just, not okay. You have no idea, you-"
"Albus!"
It was all too much for Scorpius, who was panting in front of Albus' doorstep. It used to be his apartment too. But that now seemed a world away.
"Scorp, I just don't know how we drifted apart... I... I know people move on and you're getting married, but, man, it feels like crap not having you as a best friend. Every time I see us acting all distant, I remember the days when we always had each other's back at Hogwarts." Tired lines and dark circles were etched on his illuminated face. He looked a bit like a ghost.
Guilt swelled through Scorpius all of a sudden. All this time he saw Albus as a changed person, an alien character consumed by his job of chasing criminals and engaging in a toxic relationship with a strange woman, dabbing in illegal spells - if the drained and haggard face and secrecy charms he had cast around his room were any indication - all while becoming more and more cold and distant. All this time, it was still the same guy, a best friend clandestinely crying out for help. The same young boy desparately trying to find his place in the world, consumed by burning ambition, brilliant and driven in his own way, but also incredibly vulnerable.
"I'm sorry, Albus. I really am."
"Take care Scorpius, I meant what I said about the Sons of Walpurgis. Lawrence has offered me a few clues on their activities. Just, stay safe okay?"
"My dad claims he's received a few threatening letters, but nothings too serious..."
"Does he still have them? If he does, tell him to send these to the Auror department. It could be another lead. More than that-"
"Albus, let's grab coffee sometime. Now, even, if that's your thing. You need some time to chill. Just, take a break and stop thinking about your job-"
"I can't, Scorpius. This, this is bigger than me. The Wizarding World could be at risk of falling into War again and I can't -"
"Albus! Is everything alright out there?"
Delphi.
"Is that...?"
"Yeah, we live together now. Anyways, come in. We're about to watch a movie together. You should join us."
"I... Let's meet up at my place tomorrow. Just you and me. The old mates. How does that sound?"
"Hmmm... alright."
A small start, perhaps. But better late than never.
"Teach me how to fly," he asked her a few months after they had started dating. She had initially deferred, claiming her own lack of expertise and confidence to teach anyone. But she eventually agreed. She always did when he asked her, the kind and understanding woman.
So here they were, soaring the skies tentatively. Admittedly, he was rather clumsy with his technique, but she was a patient teacher. They started slow, working through low heights, beginning with the low farmlands (under a disillusionment charm, of course) and gradually gravitating up the clouds. The cold winds blew past his face. Though he had never been the most adept person on a broom, he still enjoyed this liberating sensation, unbounded and unburdened, not at the mercy of some mercurial broomstick, overlooking a dense, dark foliage.
He could get used to this.
"There's something wrong about Albus. I'm worried - I'm really worried."
"What is wrong, Scorpius?"
"Mr. Potter, are you aware of the fact that he is getting married?"
"Yes, my son has just sent me a message not too long ago-"
"To Delphi. Delphi."
"Yes, Ginny and I just met up with her-"
"She can't be trusted. I know, I just know- There's something about her. She's changing him: don't tell me you didn't notice. He's still the same Albus and - I mean I hope we - never mind - point is he's the same guy, but don't you think that she's influencing him?" Scorpius was getting increasingly exasperated at Harry Potter's inability to comprehend the gravity of his explications - or perhaps his own inability to express his sentiments of foreboding.
"That's what couples tend to do to each other, Scorpius. I'm sure you have plenty of experience with that. I-"
"They were casting silencing charms, anti-spell detection charms all around their rooms back when we still shared an apartment-"
"Well, Ginny and I used to do that when we-"
"It's different! I know! It's just different!" - and Harry Potter was taken aback by his vigor, his vehemence - "I know I sound like a crazy, paranoid guy right now, but please Mr. Potter. It's partly my fault too: should have paid attention and been a better friend. Nonetheless, I... I just hope it turns out okay. You know? I'm worried."
"I understand."
"Times are different now. I'm sure you're aware that my father has been receiving threatening messages from this group that calls itself the Sons of Walpurgis. I'm now a married man, I have a family that I care about, I..."
"Scorpius, I know what you're feeling. My son... being an Auror and I guess growing up as my kid, it's a tough state to be in and sometimes he gets too wrapped in his own thing he needs some outlet of relief... You're a good friend. You've always been one since you two met at Hogwarts" - Scorpius felt a wince in his heart at the mention of that - "and no matter how little time both of you spend together now, you're still a good one. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on his well-being too. He is my son after all."
"Really Vacillius, I am not interested for now," Lawrence exclaimed in frustration over the phone. It was late at night in Ilvermorny and he was still grading his students' papers. And for the record, I hope you realise the irony of leading an anti-muggle movement whilst utilising a telephone. That went unsaid, of course, given that even upon rejection, he did not want to provoke too much antagonism. He still needed to maintain some semblance of goodwill towards the 'movement,' even as he wanted nothing to do with it. "But know that I will support your cause from deep within my heart. Who knows, maybe I'll start a chapter here in North America. I am a professor at Ilvermorny after all, which places me in a very good position of influence if I should choose to do so... okay, that's it. It's late here. Good bye."
Somehow, the scattered seeds of the Nott family always managed to worm its way back into his life, especially the bad seeds, coming to think of it. Vacillius had always been a bit of a reckless bully, a delinquent, boorish and not entirely intelligent. Perhaps his mildly prejudiced views were always lurking beneath the surface, but certainly, Lawrence was not aware of them until recently. Until that guy started to consistently contact him and urge him to join his new 'movement' the Sons of Walpurgis.
These days, it is no longer uncommon for certain pureblood families - especially the stock from where Death Eaters emerged: the Notts, the Goyles, the Mulcibers, the Averys - to be approached by recruiters from the nascent movement. They were coming out of the shadows, slowly, bit by bit. All the past pretenses they carved over themselves were vanishing. Perhaps he was only starting to see those he once knew for whom they actually are.
Maybe Lawrence had been naive on his part, assuming that such bigoted views were a sure thing of the past, deliberately ignoring the festering underbelly of reactionaries. They started off with legitimate grievances, of people nevertheless managing to not judge them by their forefathers - and then proceeded to steep into the very views their forefathers were despised for. It was frustrating that people were so thick, so willing to go along with grand projects of delusional Dark Lords.
His phone rang again. This time it was Albus Potter. Ah, an old friend.
"Lawrence, we're your cousin's place now. What's the password?"
Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he dodged a green beam of spell. In the heat of the moment, the melee of danger, Albus had never felt more alive. All the hours of dueling with Delphi, his colleagues and himself (it was possible, in spite of snarky accusations from MacLaggen) converged.
"Reducto!"
"Protego!"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Confrigo!"
"Reducto!"
"Expulso!"
"Stupify!"
Isadora, Cynthia and Don had taken down one wizard who bore resemblance to Bjarn Lovsen, stunning and binding him, but at least six other neo-Death Eaters were still on the loose.
Thomas was nowhere to be found.
A shadow flickered.
[Left.]
A Killing Curse came hurling towards him as he summoned the table to intercept it.
It was Vacillius Nott.
"So you're Albus Potter, son of the Chosen One. I must admit, I'm not impresse-"
A silent reducto was hurled towards him, forcing him to scramble aside. Albus did not allow him a moment's respite, simultaneously hurling another disarming and explosive spell, hoping to render the man incapacitated.
"Really, you would not even allow-"
The man's limbs started twisting, he would feel his joints ache, his skin numbing, as blood would be temporarily cut off from various crucial areas of his body. Albus knew because this was one of the spells he tried with Delphi. It would hurt, but more importantly, it was effective.
"Fuck! What is this!"
The man's hands twisted, convulsed violently as he dropped his wand. Albus did not waste a single second to summon it.
"You know what - you're a son of a bitch - no wonder you -"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
That shut him up.
The Sons of Walpurgis appeared to operate in cells of 7, supposedly because it was a magic number. How dreary.
Two down, five more to go.
Three more fell by simple stunning spells, their wand works so shoddy that Albus suspected they were never properly trained at a young age. It would make sense. They all men had a waifish quality about them, a life of petty crime on the streets that continued from childhood to today. Radicalised in Azkaban, they must have been recruited upon release.
Cynthia and Isadora were taking down another wizard with ease, disarming him and then casting a subsequent binding charm. That part should have no trouble.
Don and Loris were assigned to monitor any potential escapees.
Thomas's locations was still unknown.
And then Albus' alert buzzed.
This indicated trouble.
"Fiendfyre! He's started fiendfyre! Quick, we need to evacuate or do something about it!" Don panicked as he rushed to the scene with Albus. "We-"
"No worries, I'm on it," Albus replied. He had learned about the counter-curse to fiendfyre while perusing through troves of old spell books with Delphi. "Meanwhile, go and assist Thomas. Make sure the last one doesn't escape."
"I'm on it!"
Muttering incantations, a silvery whisk shot out of his wand, swirling around him as it progressively increased in size and then it was unleashed, inundating the room. When it made contact with Fiendfyre, the raging inferno dissipated as if it were never there. It was a draining effort and all of a sudden, Albus was hit by a small wave of exhaustion - that he immediately dispelled. This was serious business. Everything else can wait.
Once the smoke's vision cleared, he could still see his teammates clash with another figure. Sparks flaring, there seemed to be no end to the duel.
It was Koralius.
"Koralius?!"
There was no masking his incredulity.
"Oh what's up 'bro'?"
A snide snicker.
"What the hell?!"
"You know this crazy person?" MacLaggen bellowed over the mayhem.
"Barely."
Koralius began cackling like a maniac as he hurled a Cruciatus Curse in Albus' direction.
"Levicorpus!"
"STUPEFY!"
Thomas' spell finally hit Koralius, who collapsed onto the ground.
"Brachiabindo," Albus uttered as coils grew around the guy.
MacLaggen took a deep breath of relief. "Now all that's left is to send them all the way to prison."
"Well that was a hassle."
"You will tell Lily that I saved this raid with my dashing heroism right?" Don joked as he gave Albus a light punch.
"Totally and how you so dashingly dedicated your defeats to her." He was dripping with sarcasm. "For real, good job. We're off to a good start. This night has been... interesting."
"You knew the guy that cast the Fiendfyre," Thomas noted as they waited to file their mission report. It was late into the night and their four junior Aurors had already departed. In truth, he was feeling tired as well, looking forward to the comforts of his bed and blanket.
"A friend of a friend. I had no idea that he was ... that he was... you know..." Albus was stuttering, unable to spit out words, confused, confounded. Lost. Baffled.
"Well, that kind of makes sense, I guess. You were in Slytherin," Thomas pointed out. He knew, for some reason, perhaps owing to the fact that the two had reached an elevated stage of familiarity whereby they were familiar with each other's preferences and reactions to unwarranted prodding, that any further inquiries would have generated substantial discomfort. And tonight, Thomas knew none of them had time for it.
"What's that mean?" Albus was mildly irritated. A little defensive.
"Well, what that means is that even if you're friends there are likely very nice people, their friends and relatives might not be. You know most of You-Know-Who's followers were from your old House..."
"I get it, I get it. No, but Koralius... he was my ... never mind." Albus stopped speaking when the Head Auror, Harry Potter, called the two into his office.
The day after the raid, he was successfully evaded all her attempts at questioning, deflecting things to his concerns about his junior Aurors, his guilt about missing out on dinner with her and his doubts about the investigation. He had vehemently avoided all discussion about her family with her. The news of her brother's capture - as well as his involvement in the Sons of Walpurgis - would be too much for her to bear.
The case was technically resolved, but they may have uncovered something more.
He needed to pay a private trip to Delphi's childhood home. He knew she did not share her parent's views, but now knowing the extent that her brother did, he would have had good reason to suspect her parents too. They appeared to be relatively wealthy. There was a strong possibility they were housing cells and meetings for the Sons of Walpurgis, or at least bankrolling them.
But to do that, he needed more than invisibility. He needed total, complete undetectability.
He needed Merlin's Locket.
Which was why he was now in his father's office, without anyone's knowledge.
It was technically a break-in, but he also technically had legal access to most parts of the Auror department due to working there, such is his process of rationalisation. Anyhow, it was a necessary object, necessary for his mission to succeed.
Accio Merlin's Locket, he uttered the words in his head.
No reaction. As expected, his father would have protections more than rudimentary.
Think, think, think. Scour the depths of your mind, something, anything.
Wait.
Harry Potter charmed his drawers.
It was a figment of his childhood memory.
Six year old Albus Severus Potter went to work with his dad - more like without permission due to crying about some unknown, trivial matter - as the man casted a complicated array of incantations on his drawers. When Albus pouted and asked the man why he did not buy a big muggle safety box like Grandpa Weasley, the man chuckled and said that keeping things simple had their own advantages.
A few spells, some sophisticated guesses and wandworks and Albus slid one open to find the Locket of Merlin, gleaming in the pale moonlight, residing on top of a few coffee papers. He snorted in exasperation. Of course his dad would do something like that. Hide something so important in bland, plain sight. Most would be fooled.
But not him, not Albus.