Chapter Thirty-Eight
Visits and Visitations
"So you're going to your Grandfather's house this weekend?" Jeremy asked for confirmation. They were sitting in the Owl Room and doing their homework, while the rest were busy sorting out candy orders. Being in Dusthorn proved to be an advantage; having so few housemates, Quintin and Jeremy had easily gotten all of the orders turned in well before the deadline, while students from other houses had to deal with the abundance of orders trickling in at regular intervals.
"Yes, I'm going to ask Grandfather and Investigator Boltin about their experiences with Icarus at Azkaban," Quintin explained. "But since I'm going to be spending the whole weekend at the Craw Mansion, I need you to start pulling books out on Leon Thames, Master of Beasts, and Cuthbert Wuscfrea, Spell Creation."
"Spell Creation? That sounds like a fun class. How come that's not taught anymore?" Jeremy wondered.
"Professor Weasley says that you have to have a Spell Developer's license for that now, it's a highly regulated field. It requires very high NEWT scores in all major subjects to even apply for one, and even then there's a sort of internship process and you may or may not be picked to get one," Quintin explained.
"Our cousin has one of those licenses," Hector offered. "Helena Platt. She works at the Ministry Spell Research and Licensing office."
"All that work just to get a Ministry job!" Jeremy exclaimed. "I think if I had a license like that, I'd find a way to make it more fun."
"Back then, magic wasn't as developed, so a lot of people were still experimenting and inventing spells that we take for granted these days," Quintin explained. "Apparently, if a student accidentally blew themselves and their friends to kingdom come, they simply sent condolences, did a write up on what the student did and what went wrong, and that was the end of it."
"Ah, life before lawsuits," Jack smirked. "Both a good thing and a bad thing."
"Depending on what side you're on," Olivia agreed.
"I don't suppose anyone in here would like to help me find the books I need this weekend?" Jeremy asked. "I'm not as good as sniffing out obscure titles like Quintin is."
"Sure, I'll help. I have a library shift this weekend anyway," Jay volunteered. "Besides, it'll get me out of helping with those stupid candy orders again."
"But if we sell out of candy, we'll pass our minimum line for the carpet," Olivia said. "Even if you don't like the whole Valentine's Day thing, surely you don't mind helping us get over our galleon goal."
"I promise I will contribute to whatever TJ's next hair-brained fundraiser is, but this fundraiser is a hard pass for me," Jay said. "I'll be in here just after breakfast tomorrow to help you hunt down those books, Jeremy."
"Thanks!" Jeremy said, feeling a lot more confident. Quintin smiled at that, turning back to his homework.
Anthos, Autumn, and Abby were more than a little disappointed after learning that Quintin had not come to spend the weekend 'just to play with them.' Despite that wakeup call, it wasn't long before they followed Thomas and Quintin into the ballroom to try and mimic their difficult defense moves. Fortunately it wasn't long before Fleur tracked them down, shooing them towards the play room.
"This place has turned into an absolute madhouse over the last five years," Thomas complained as they worked through their warm-up set. Quintin grinned, knowing that his grandfather was actually quite content with that; family was one thing that Thomas had learned not to take for granted a long, long time ago. "Pay attention to your footing... even if it throws your timing off, Quintin. If you have to duck and you have poor footing, good timing won't save you from a fall," he said sternly.
"Yes, grandfather," Quintin replied, running through the forms. Thomas stopped partway through to watch Quintin so that he could get a better idea of his progress.
A little while later, Thatcher stepped inside and let out a sigh of exasperation.
"I knew you'd be in here... couldn't you have let him change first?" Thatcher chided Thomas.
"You can't control what you're wearing when someone decides to pick a fight," Thomas pointed out, and not for the first time. "Alright, Quintin, finish that last form. I cant tell that Andrew's been working on your posture since Christmas, but if you don't fix that footing of yours, you're going to have trouble winning the school tournament this year."
"Does it really matter if I win as long as I'm doing my best?" Quintin challenged him.
"Of course it matters!" Thomas snapped. "Quintin, come out to the living room with me. Thatcher, go fetch us some drinks."
"Okay," Thatcher said, knowing better than to argue.
They walked out of the bedroom and into the living room. Thomas pointed at the sofa near the fire. Quintin sat down with a sigh, glancing over as Thatcher went into the kitchen.
"Now, look, I know you have a thing about avoiding conflict, kind of like Andrew does in a way," Thomas began. "And I know that up until now you've been able to avoid it because you've been the king of the hill since you started school. But now that you're out of primary school, you're going to find that it's going to be much hard staying on that h– are you rolling your eyes at me?" Thomas said in stunned shock.
"I'm sorry, Grandfather, but you have no idea how many times I've heard this lecture-"
"Well, you haven't heard my version!" Thomas snapped at him, squinting when Quintin sighed again. "And it's pretty obvious from your attitude that you need to hear it again!" he added with such a dangerous glare that Quintin's expression turned more subdued.
"There is nothing wrong with your current strategy. Being king of the hill is what keeps me out of conflicts... most of the time, anyway. It's worked for your mother on occassion as well, even if she's nowhere near as consistent about it. Have you ever noticed how many people tend to leave when she walks into a public place?" he asked, and Quintin nodded at that. "It's not just because of her Truth-Seeking, you know. She's the Sentinel of Dark Magic, and too many stories have gotten around about what she's capable of when she loses her temper... and the fact that she gets typically gets away with it," he added for good measure. "And while we've both had our fair share of enemies, the vast majority of them don't even dare try to tangle with us because we come from a place of strength instead of weakness. So far, that position of strength has been handed to you, but now you must maintain it... and one sure way of doing that is winning your year in the tournament. If they see you're the best as sparring, other students are a lot less likely to want to tangle with you. If you want to reduce the chance of ever needing to turn and fight, I suggest you win the tournament so decisively that no one would even dare," Thomas said. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, Grandfather," Quintin said solemnly. Thomas glanced up to see Thatcher leaning against the kitchen doorway.
"Are you going to bring out those drinks, or what?" Thomas asked him.
"If you're ready," Thatcher said unconcernedly, reaching for the tray and bringing out a pot filled with cinnamon tea and some shortbread.
"Thank you," Thomas said, waving over a small table so that Thatcher could set it down. "I've been telling Thatcher about your research to find a house name, but I personally can't help but wonder why you're spending any time researching Icarus. It's not like you could use the name Ravenclaw, and even if you could have, Ick's actions at the end of his life should have eliminated him from contention from the start."
"Yes, I know, Grandfather, we weren't considering his name for a house name," Quintin confirmed. "But even so, it's really difficult to talk about that time period without including him, especially considering his close relationship to the other apprentices and founders. On top of that, we became more than a bit confused trying to piece together what happened to him after he died. What I mean is, we've been listening to stories about Icarus from Caprica and his friends, and it sounded like he still wasn't in his right mind even after he became a ghost. He was sobbing all the time, and completely incoherent until he was moved out of the castle," Quintin said. "So what we're trying to figure out is how a sobbing phantasm that seemed barely aware of his surroundings got to where he is now. What was he like when you first met him?" he asked, looking at Thatcher.
"I will confess that he wasn't altogether sane when I met him," Thatcher replied, taking the offered cup from Thomas. "But he wasn't sobbing and coherent, at least not the day I met him. Rather, he was a raging lunatic."
"That bad, eh?" Thomas prompted when Quintin didn't respond.
"It's important to remember the circumstances behind our first meeting, Thomas. It was only a few short months before I met you," Thatcher began. "After the Azkaban Revolt where Voldemort summoned the Dementors into his service, rescuing his loyal servants and killing all who remained, Icarus was more than a little enraged about what happened. He blamed the Ministry for setting up Dementors as guards in the first place, and for leaving him alone in his tower, helpless to stop what was going on around him. He had the power to slow them down... by locking the gates to give more time for the Ministry to arrive on the far shore with help. But since he was alone in his tower with no backup, there was nothing he could do but call for help and hope that the Ministry would arrive in such numbers that they could stop what was happening to the prisoners.
"They did finally arrive, of course, but by that point, there was little they could do to stop it. Attempting to intervene would have been nothing but a death trap for anyone going in at that point," Thatcher said somberly, staring in his tea before looking up again.
"I'm sure they must have realized even before they made it inside the walls just how foolish it had been to use such creatures as guards in the first place. They had feared the Death Eaters so much after the trials that they made this deal with those shrouded devils; giving them free reign to feed and grow while keeping the Death Eaters 'safe' on the island. How the Ministry allowed such a panicked solution for incarceration to continue for well over a decade without any consideration for the prisoners disgusted me from the start, even as I joined the mix of other enchanters and guards brought over from the Tower of London to begin our training. The revulsion of it made me sick to my stomach, and I wondered even as we boated over to the island to inspect the repairs and renovations if I could ever bring myself to trust a justice system who would do such a thing to a living soul, regardless of their past deeds," he admitted, then continued.
"It wasn't long after we began training that I was taken aside by members of the justice committee, and was told that I was chosen to be a secret liaison between the Warden and the prison guards, telling me that my 'positive attitude' would go a long way in helping me subdue the Warden's pessimistic temperament. Really, I had no idea whatsoever what I was in store for. I do vividly recall that first climb up those stairs and past those countless doors to the Warden's Tower. It was by far the longest climb in my life... and not because of how many doors and stairs that were in the way. Rather, it was because every time we paused so that someone could unlock another door, I was trying to get up the nerve to tell them, 'Sorry, I've changed my mind. This isn't going to work out, thanks anyway.' I even practiced it in my head over and over again as we climbed the stairs between the doors," he confessed, slightly amused at himself.
"Apparently, you never said it out loud," Thomas observed.
"Well, not until I got to the very last door, no, where I was told that it was too late and that all of those doors behind us only opened one way," Thatcher replied. "Taking my words as a 'last minute hesitation', they simply reassured me and opened the door. Much to my surprise, the room was in complete disarray. Law books seemed to be flying randomly across the room, and some of them even had the misfortune of going out the window. That was the first time I saw Icarus Ravenclaw, furious as all hell, ignoring Albus Dumbledore's requests to calm down, and facing off against Minister Fudge with a look of disgust on his ghostly face. He railed on about how long the Ministry had ignored his pleas for reform. He expressed how outraged he was that it had taken a full on collapse of the system and countless deaths before they even spared this island a passing thought, inconveniently out of the way so they didn't have to deal with its problems... yes, well... that's the non-colorful version of what he said. In actuality, it was filled with such language that even you would be impressed, Thomas," he said, smiling wryly at his friend. "In fact, it was after the ghost told Fudge to go eff himself that I changed my mind and decided that I did want the job after all."
Thomas broke out laughing, coming on so fast that he had to rub tears out of his eyes.
"That is so like you! Really, I shouldn't be in the least bit surprised, as many times you used to stand and watch me rant when I was in a mood, standing in front of me with your calm demeanor and listening without comment, only to learn after the fact that you agreed with my opinion the entire time," Thomas recalled.
"A prison guard needs to be aware of his own flaws, and my flaw has always been that I prefer to be polite and thoughtful in most circumstances. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, just as my parents always taught me," Thatcher said. "At the same time, I have found that I very much prefer to be surrounded by rude people; people who will voice concerns that are similar enough to my own that I never have to express them myself. Icarus did that and more in that moment," Thatcher continued. "I realized straight away just how serious he took his position and how much he cared about the prisoners... as far as he was concerned, he was just as much a prisoner as they had been, and many of the prisoners who had died he had long believed had been treated unfairly. The only prisoners he was ever cold to were the ones loyal to Voldemort, really. He didn't think they were worth his time, and 'deserved every hardship they brought on themselves, including condemnation in death'", he quoted. "Of course, at the time he said it, I assumed that opinion was directly tied to what had happened the night of the revolt," Thatcher added. "I wasn't aware that he had been a Hogwarts professor until much later."
"I see," Quintin said. "So when you met him, he was angry because of what happened, but relatively sane?"
"Sane? Far from it," Thatcher replied. "From one moment to the next, he went from an intelligent, pessimistic spirit to one so wrought with turmoil that he'd spend days bawling in the catacombs. I was given a list from day one on what to do if one of his moods interfered with his work, and methods to try to bring him out of it and a list of who had security clearance if I needed to Owl for help. Fortunately for me, Ick always seemed to snap out of it any time a new prisoner was sent to the island; mostly out of curiosity, but sometimes out of relief when it was someone that he thought was better off in prison."
"I think he came out of it just because he liked to harass new prisoners," Thomas grunted. "He sure as hell gave me a hard enough time when I first got there... not as hard of a time as he gave Jennifer when she visited, of course. Wouldn't shut up about her."
"Really? He was interested in Mum?" Quintin asked out of curiosity.
"More than anyone," Thomas agreed. "I always thought her finding the Cauldron had something to do with it, and being relation."
"There can be little doubt that he felt some sort of connection to her," Thatcher agreed. "In fact, it was after he became aware of her that Ick really started getting better... the breakdowns started to become less and less frequent over time. Zacchius told me that they have continued to be less frequent after leaving the prison as well. Now he only has spells when they're triggered by certain events, instead of being random occurrences."
"I'm pretty sure those have gotten less over time as well, or Severus wouldn't have been giving him so much more responsibility over the last few years," Thomas ventured. Thatcher smiled.
"I'm glad he's come so far since then. I've always had a deep respect for him, especially for his attempts to reform that prison after it had been so poorly handled by the Ministry before that point. He listened to my thoughts on the reforms as well, and we often worked together to find solutions to not only make the prison secure, but at the same time give the prisoners some basic humanity," Thatcher explained, but then his smile faded somewhat. "Perhaps a bit too much humanity."
"Let's not get into that Bagman thing again, it wasn't your fault," Thomas said, holding up a hand in protest. "We all made mistakes that led to that, and it could have turned out worse."
"Yes, I know," Thatcher said. "It was so hard to step away from that job, especially after Icarus and I did so much to turn that place around. As silly as it sounds, it was very much like a second home to me, but I'm sure that the current Warden will be able to take it to the next level."
"Don't bother looking, Quintin, Aurelius already has it nailed down," Thomas said to Quintin.
"I wasn't going to," Quintin reassured him. "I'm just interested in Icarus, really. So how did you meet him, Grandfather?"
"He wandered into my prison cell not long after I was placed in a permanent one... well, semi-permanent," Thomas said. "I remember standing by the door, trying to find a guard who'd be willing to put in my request to either provide me with notepaper or to get word back to my daughter to bring notepaper with her during her first visit... they weren't very cooperative at first. They said there wasn't any point of getting me any paper or parchment until I was approved for a pencil or quill and ink... it's standard procedure not to let anything foreign in the cells at first as a safety precaution, but back then, I didn't understand any of that. I was just bored and wanted to write some letters," he explained.
"Anyway, as I was standing there with my back to my cell, I suddenly heard someone's voice behind me, asking, 'how is your arm'? I flung around in surprise and took a defensive position, ready for a fight. I thought that one of my enemies must have taken some sort of minute Animagus form and managed to slip in my cell to finish me off," Thomas explained, getting grins from both Thatcher and Quintin at that. "That's when the ghost materialized. I still wasn't completely sure if I should be on my guard or not, keeping my stance as I told him it wasn't any of his damn business how my arm was."
"What was wrong with your arm?" Quintin asked.
"I had it amputated, to remove the cursed tattoo that was on it. Quite the trend, after it became widely known that Voldemort had cursed the Dark Mark so that if someone tried to curse or kill him, the other Death Eaters would feel it as well. My new arm was coming along nicely even before I left the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, really, but it was far from feeling completely natural yet," Thomas explained. "The ghost seemed unfazed by my curt reply, looking me over with intense scrutiny and that dull, somber expression that he typically had in those days.
"'I heard you're in here for going on a murdering spree, attempting to kill other Death Eaters,' Ick said. It burned me up just how he said that... 'other Death Eaters'... especially when I was already in a disagreeable mood at that point. 'Why?' he then added for good measure.
"'Because they effing deserved it,' I replied," Thomas said. "'And because the effing Ministry wasn't doing anything about it themselves.'"
"Giving him the clean version?" Thatcher teased his friend.
"Yes, well, every time I try to give someone the correct version of one of my stories, Fleur seems to come out from the kitchen or around the corner at an inopportune moment. She's gotten sensitive ever since Autumn began cussing like a sailor... Autumn has very impressive vocabulary for a three year old," Thomas added proudly before continuing.
"'And then you turned yourself in?' Ick asked.
"'What did you do, read my damned papers? I wasn't in a position to do anything else,' I snapped back.
"'I see,' he said in that aggravating tone that made me feel like he didn't quite believe me. 'And you have a daughter. Will she be coming to see you soon?'
"'How in the hell would I know? I can't even write her to find out,' I snapped angrily, deciding to ignore him until he went away. Not half an hour after he faded away, Thatcher walks up with a stationary set. I thought it was a complete coincidence, to be perfectly honest," Thomas admitted. "Especially after I began noticing that Thatcher had a different demeanor from the other guards. He was only as stern as he needed to be, and although I saw him become hard and firm with the more difficult prisoners on my block, most of the time he was quite personable. Damnedest thing I ever saw in my life... a 'people person' as a Head Guard, able to strike up conversations with other guards and prisoners equally well. So naturally, I concluded that Thatcher did it on his own. I was grateful for that, so grateful that I even befriended the man. You see, that's why I didn't make any friendships for so many years. I was always a poor judge in them. Our entire friendship started with my making a false assumption," Thomas said with a grunt.
"Not as false as you think, Thomas," Thatcher informed him. "I did play some part in that decision. When Icarus hunted me down and pulled me aside, he began asking all sorts of questions about you and the circumstances behind the arrest, wanting more information than the report that crossed his desk. He was most especially interested in your daughter and your relationship with her, and whether the two of you got along," he added with amusement. "So I truthfully told them that the LE department reported that the two of you did nothing but argy-bargy any time you were together, but despite that, it was quite evident that the two of you cared for each other a great deal, and I thought that your concern for your daughter and strong will to survive would carry you through despite your incarceration. He pondered it, saying something about how Craws were forever loyal to their families, and told me to give you a stationary kit. So, I'd like to think I contributed to the decision, which is why I've never corrected it when you've brought it up," he explained with a smile.
"As long as you contributed," Thomas decided gruffly, then turned back to Quintin. "Did you get what you needed out of that?"
"I do have another question," Quintin said, making one last note. "Do you feel that Icarus was good at his job as Warden of Azkaban?"
At the same time as Thatcher was saying "Yes," Thomas said an emphatic, "No!"
"Really, Thomas... you're not going to bring up that-"
"That blasted ghost possessed me against my will and tossed me in the catacombs!" Thomas snapped, his loud voice drowning up Thatcher's.
"Yes, he is going to bring it up," Thatcher said with exasperation.
"And then he possessed Ederick Thurspire and had him turn me into stone, and had everyone believing he did it, including me!" he ranted.
"Thomas? We can hear you upstairs," Fleur called down. "You're watching your language around Quintin, I trust?"
"He's been good so far, but I won't guarantee it'll hold over the long term," Thatcher reported to her.
"Well, keep it down, and Thatcher, you have my permission to cast Sonorous Shield in the house if necessary," Fleur said as they heard her climbing the stairs.
"Thank you, Fleur," Thatcher said with amusement. "On his behalf, I would like to say something about Icarus if Thomas is done," he continued. Thomas was still focusing on the stairs to make certain that his wife went the rest of the way up. "Despite his bouts in the catacombs which, considering his ghost angst, he had very little control over, he was a very good and fair administrator, especially after Dumbledore convinced the LE Department and the Magistrate that Icarus was more than capable of handling the position, providing he had a watchdog assigned to him in case his angst got out of hand... namely myself, with Dumbledore agreeing to take responsibility if anything went wrong," Thatcher explained, pausing a moment when he saw Quintin stop to write it down. "He ran the place with dignity and compassion, and treated the inmates like human beings instead of animals. Even if his bad days could get a bit trying, all I had to do was remind myself of the day we met, and I found that I could easily endure it," Thatcher said with amusement. "I developed a great respect for him over time."
"Even at the end, when he passed you up and recommended me as the next warden?" Thomas challenged his friend. But Thatcher blinked.
"Icarus didn't pass me up, Thomas. He recommended me, as did Albus and Jennifer for what it's worth. I'm the one who refused to take it," Thatcher said.
"You what?" Thomas said in shock.
"I enjoyed my position as Head Guard and second in command, and I really wasn't ready to let it go at that point," Thatcher explained calmly. "Especially when I knew someone who was the perfect successor; someone who was even ruder and more brilliant than Icarus, and who had a personal interest in taking Azkaban's prison form to the next level... namely you... with me filling my previous position as Head Guard and watch dog."
"Watch dog or nanny?" Thomas retorted, but it was obvious he had calm down tremendously.
"Whichever makes you feel better," Thatcher said with amusement.
"Neither at the moment, since it seems I owe Ick an apology," Thomas said with annoyance.
"So your anger wasn't really about the incident in the catacombs after all," Quintin concluded with a slight smile.
"Drink your tea," Thomas grunted, waiting until Quintin finished his last note before changing the subject to how they were going to spend the rest of their day.
When Jeremy and Jay came in with a stack of books that Saturday, they were surprised to see that the only other student there was Jack, who had several books laid open as he worked on his essay.
"Where is everyone? Peddling candy?" Jay asked critically.
"Yeah," Jack replied. "I'm off the hook at the moment on account of the fact that I got behind on my research paper. I'm not going to have any money next week if I don't get all of my homework in on time, and I'm not even done with the rough draft yet," Jack said.
"You need to work on your time management," Jeremy observed.
"I don't have a living clock to follow me around like you do," Jack retorted. "Besides, you're one to talk, considering it looks like your work is cut out for you."
"Actually, these are books pertaining to the new house's research project," Jay explained. "I was helping him pull out all of the possible books that might have what he needs, but now we have to sort through them to eliminate books that either don't pertain to their research or are redundant as far as what they cover."
"Do you need any help?" Jack asked, standing up.
"What about your own paper?" Jay asked.
"My brain has been fried for over half an hour. I haven't made any progress. Maybe working on something else for a few minutes will help give my mind a break from it," Jack reasoned, then curiously picked up one of the books in front of them. "A Catalog of Magical and Experimental Beasts. Experimental?" he questioned.
"You know... like magically constructed races like Imps, or hybrid races like Venowraiths, Grimlins, or the legendary Questing beast," Jay explained. "It's illegal to use magic to create a new race or hybridize things that don't reproduce naturally any more, of course, and it has been for nearly a century. But back then it was quite common. I wonder if Leon Thames did any sort of experimentation?" Jay pondered, pulling the book in front of him to look at it.
"Who was he?" Jack asked.
"The first Master of Beasts at Hogwarts. He helped Holda Hufflepuff, the owner of the Distaff, and Salazar Slytherin, to make the famous Cloak of Icarus," Jay explained. "I'm sure someone's told you about it."
"Sure, my grandfather's talked about it. That's when my grandmother got trapped in some sort of capture globe by someone who'd been stalking her, or something like that, he had it," Jack replied.
"Man, your family is so screwed up. It's like bad things happen all the time," Jeremy said.
"Tell me about it," Jack replied with a chuckle.
"It's not something to laugh about," Jay told him critically, attempting to concentrate on his reading. "Here we are... apparently he's not in favor of altering beasts without due diligence," he reported, and Jeremy got out his notebook to write down what Jay had found. "And he talks about responsibility and stewardship a lot. I'd say that's pretty radical sentiment for his time period, he must really have been passionate about his work."
"That's really interesting, he seems like a nice guy," Jeremy said as Jay offered him the book. "Although personally, I'm not sure how I'd feel about a guild being named after a Master of Beasts... I mean, that seems more appropriate for a house that's really passionate about nature and the environment or something."
"Hufflepuff was into that kind of thing too, but her house is about loyalty and hard work. Maybe he has some other interesting traits," Jack suggested. "Personally, it isn't his love of animals that'd put me off... I just don't think I'd want to be in a house named Thames."
"It's a good thing you're Sorted into a normal house, then," Jay told Jack.
"Our house is normal too," Jeremy said, and the other two boys stared at him. "True, we don't have a name yet, or a motto, or mascot or anything, and we're made up of only first years... but other than that, we're just like the rest of you!"
"Right," Jay said, flipping through another book. "Maybe you ought to choose Wuscfrea, since he seems to be no more normal than the rest of you."
"I also want something I can spell," Jeremy said. "So what's so special about Wuscfrea, other than teaching a class we're not allowed to have at Hogwarts anymore?"
"Well, he was one of Rowena Ravenclaw's apprentices, and he was an Aethermage," Jay explained.
"Just like my grandmother," Jack bragged unabashedly. "She has very strong instinctual magic and can do all sorts of weird stuff without casting regular spells, but she's not always good at controlling it, so most of the time she just doesn't use it. Unless there's an emergency, of course, then it always seems to work out."
"Of course, because her instincts take over," Jay replied. "Most of the time, she's forced to curb her instincts, because our civilization is too..."
"Civilized?" Jeremy suggested.
"In a way yes. It's filled with rules and restrictions that work against instinct instead of encouraging it," Jay said. "Perhaps writing spells was a way the Wuscfrea was attempting to find a compromise, by creating spells that he could cast, and regular wizards could cast," he conjectured, showing Jeremy a book of spells.
"'Alterations and Incantations for Wizard Elevations,'" Jeremy read off the cover.
"Hey, I know that book... Andrew has a copy of it in his reference section, because it's nearly all Transfiguration spells," Jack said. "But I thought Ravenclaw herself wrote it."
"It's because she helped him write it," Jay explained. "I don't know if he was an apprentice then, or if he simply didn't have enough reputation to write on his own, but her name was on the byline even on the original 'with spell contributions by Cuthbert Wuscfrea.'" he said, pointing it out. "In other words, he wrote the spells, and she wrote the book."
"Why didn't he just write it himself?" Jeremy asked.
"Perhaps I can answer that for you," said a familiar voice. The three of them looked over in the direction it came from, and Icarus Ravenclaw appeared. "Cuthbert was very smart, but he had a lot of trouble reading and writing, because no matter how many hours that my mother helped him with it, the words got jumbled in his head."
"So he was dyslexic?" Jay inquired.
"What's that?" Jack asked.
"It's a sort of reading disorder, where letters get jumbled around when a person tries to process them," Jay explained. "Still somewhat common in Muggles, but wizards now has a magic based therapy for primary school children that corrects it over several treatments."
"Such things didn't exist in our time. There wasn't even really a name for it," Icarus explained. "It was even more puzzling to everyone since he was so incredibly powerful with magic and adept at creating new spells. Some speculated that he was cursed at birth or it was because if his strange lineage. Slytherin didn't want anything to do with him, of course, seeing him as being nothing short of being a defective, despite being his cousin."
"Cousin?" Jeremy asked.
"Actually, he was everybody's cousin," Icarus said.
"Of course, that makes perfect sense," Jack said, Jeremy looking over at him. "Aethermages have a different sort of magic than wizards, they have instinctual magic just like any magical creature has, and have practiced instinctual magic long before formal training, which tends to strengthen its effects. But one thing they all have in common is that they have a weird bloodline, combining Merlin's blood with the blood of his four children who became the first Sentinels."
"It's a bit more complex than that, but yes, that's the easiest path," Icarus replied. "Because it insures that all of the key bloodlines that make up the anomaly exist. But what makes an Aethermage has more to do with where their magic ability comes from more than anything else. Their ancestry is made up of demon blood, Fomorian blood, Fae blood, and human blood, which are combined in a very delicate balance," Icarus explained. "In Cuthbert, as in Anna, the human and Fomorian strains are more dominant, but fractionally so; all of the bloodlines are close to equal in many ways. Cuthbert was the first child born with such anomalies to have survived childhood. You see, his older sister was killed after she was born with magic so strange it frightened both wizard and Muggle. So when Cuthbert's mother became pregnant again, she went into hiding to protect her child, raising him quietly near the coast until he was of an age ready for an apprenticeship. Then and only then did she contact Rowena and begged her assistance, wanting him to be trained and accepted into society."
Jeremy leaned his hand against his cheek.
"That's really interesting and all, but we're just starting to write down the historical facts that we can prove. I don't suppose any of that is written down anywhere?" Jeremy asked. Icarus pondered the question.
"Are crystalized memories admissible in formal papers?" he asked.
"No, of course not. Memories are subjective. Even memories honestly submitted and used in investigations to get clues aren't taken completely at face value, because memories can be unintentionally altered due to time or perspective," Jay said, quoting directly out of his law class.
"Ah, I see. Such a pity," Icarus said. "Oh well, then I suppose you can always try the lineage records. You should at least be able to prove who he's related to and solidify he was an Aethermage."
"Good point, thanks," Jeremy said.
"Of course," Icarus said with a thin smile, walking through the wall as he returned to the main library.
"Now, why do you suppose he even said that?" Jay asked with a suspicious frown. "Icarus was the Warden of Azkaban. I'm sure he'd have known it would be admissible in a formal paper any more than they'd be admissible in court."
"Yeah, that's true, he should have known that. That's why Quintin's not here this weekend... he went to talk to Boltin and his grandfather about it," Jeremy said thoughtfully. "But this is not the first time the idea of hidden memories has come up. Apparently, the four apprentices memory sealed some items to help defeat Voldemort. Caprica mentioned it, when we were discussing their plans to help Icarus by trying to stop what Icarus was seeing about the rise of Voldemort in his visions."
"Really?" Jay asked thoughtfully.
"Yeah, do you want to see my notes on it?" Jeremy said, flipping through them. "Apparently, they set up this trap room and sealed up items and a bunch of memories. They found the items and they did end up helping with his defeat, apparently, and are now owned by Weasley, Craw, and Snape."
"That's three out of four," Jack pointed out.
"The fourth was the potion that made Snape invulnerable to contagion and such," Jeremy said.
"So the items were found, but what about all of the memories?" Jay wondered.
"Well, Quintin told me once that the box the items were found it was memory sealed," Jeremy said, flipping through his journal on Quintin. "Yes, there it is. His mother unlocked those."
"That's one item, though. But in your notes, Caprica references memories, plural... and considering Icarus' hints just a moment ago, I wonder if that means that there's more memories hidden other than the one Grandmother found," Jay pondered. A grin crept over Jack's face.
"Shall we go do a bit of exploration?" Jack suggested.
"I don't know, that sounds risky," Jeremy said. "Maybe we should tell someone about it.. Snape or Craw or something."
"They're not in the castle this weekend. They went to Whitebridge," Jay explained. "I think Professor Ravenclaw is in charge today."
"That's alright then. He's not likely to bust us for having a quick look around when it was his idea," Jack concluded.
"True, but all the same, I'm not sure if I trust Ravenclaw or Dusthorn for mentioning this memory thing. They're both quite manipulative," Jay warned. "I think we should find Janus and get his take on things instead. He's always straight with me when it comes to things like this."
"Okay," Jeremy agreed. "So let's finish sorting these books and we'll go look for him."
"It shouldn't be hard. I know exactly where he hangs out on the weekend," Jack assured them.
A half an hour later, Jay, Jack, and Jeremy found themselves staring up at the giant open doorway that led into the Chamber of Secrets.
"This is not where I was expecting us to end up," Jay said flatly.
"Well, it's cutting to the chase, isn't it?" Jack said.
"Just where are we?" Jeremy asked.
"In a lot of hot water if this adventure of Jack's backfires," Jay said flatly.
Shrugging at that, Jeremy followed Jack and Jay inside. He stared at the snake gargoyles, wondering what he just got himself into.
"Do you see these? They were designed by Janus Craw," Jack said as if he were giving a tour.
"I know that! We talked a bit about it when we interviewed him about Icarus Ravenclaw," Jeremy informed Jack, cautiously bringing out his wand to check the area. "There are an awful lot of strong magic wards down here."
"Grandfather calls them 'baby-proofing' wards," Jay explained. "Quintin got in here once or twice when he was a toddler, so Grandfather was forced to ward everything down."
"What! No wonder you weren't worried about coming down here. With all the stories I heard, I thought we were coming to some dark, evil place, risking our lives and the wrath of the headmaster in the name of knowledge," Jeremy ranted.
"Who's to say you aren't?" A voice echoed through the creepy chamber.
"Janus," Jay informed the other two, and they looked around until the ghost materialized.
"See? I told you he comes down here on the weekends," Jack said smugly.
"I'm down here because the gargoyles told me that someone was trespassing," Janus informed him. "Couldn't you just have gotten someone to fetch me in the library?"
"You're right, we could have. I made the mistake of following Jack into a Doorlift," Jay said evenly.
"Yeah, me too," Jeremy added quickly. Janus looked at Jeremy.
"You're a first year, you're excused. Jay, you know better than to follow a Black anywhere... especially this one," Janus said, Jack grinning widely at that.
"Yes, sir," Jay replied.
"So why were you looking for me?" Janus asked. Jack and Jay looked over at Jeremy.
"It was about house research, actually," Jeremy said. "Jay was helping me gather up books about Leon Thames and Cuthbert Wuscfrea, and when we were working on it, Icarus came in to check on us and told us a bit about Wuscfrea's bloodline, and that's how he was an Aethermage, and we were wondering how we could prove he was one."
"Oh, that," Janus pondered. "Well, for the bloodlines, I'd go to Professor Weasley or Professor Craw, since you might be able to find them in old school records, or at least his connection to the Ravenclaw line. As for the whole 'Aethermage' thing, I think Icarus might have coined the phrase, referring to the elusive 'fifth element' in alchemy, or fifth type of magic, because Cuthbert's magic was so very different from anything anyone had seen before. It had been conjectured by Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and their apprentices that perhaps his magic was the long sought after fifth element... Caprica wrote a paper on it, I think," he mused, and Jeremy quickly wrote that down.
"Now, why didn't Ravenclaw tell us that?" Jay said with exasperation. "That would have been a lot more useful than some vague hints that there are memories hidden in items somewhere."
"Well, there are," Janus said with a shrug. "But I don't see why it matters. They were memories that we hid to give our descendants some insights into how to defeat Voldemort. He's long gone now, so it doesn't really matter that they weren't found, because they succeeded to defeat Voldemort without them."
"Maybe they didn't serve their original purpose at all, but perhaps they could clue us in to more facts about what was going on back then," Jeremy said. Janus frowned, pondering it only for a moment before shaking his head.
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. I think you're better off sticking to the books and asking Craw and Weasley about bloodlines," Janus decided, gesturing them towards the corridor they had come out of.
"Why?" Jeremy asked.
"Well, for one thing, they weren't left for students to find, and I think you're all much too young to be prodding around in an adult wizard's thoughts anyway. Now, why don't you run along? Here, give me that notebook of yours, and I'll write down the name of the book with Caprica's report on Wuscfrea," Janus offered, still walking them to the Doorlift as he did so. "And I ask that none of you come down here uninvited again, it's off limits to students, you know. It's not safe."
"But it's baby-proofed!" Jack protested.
"Baby-proofed and student-proofed are two different things," Janus said firmly. "However, if you need further clarification of the rules, feel free to make an appointment with the Headmaster to justify your trespassing to him. Good luck with your research!" he added.
The three boys found themselves stepping out into the corridor between the Library and the Great Hall.
"That sucked! We didn't get to have an adventure or anything!" Jack complained so loudly that Jay hushed him sternly.
"He sure didn't want us asking about those missing memories, did he?" Jeremy agreed.
"And yet Ravenclaw wanted us to do exactly that," Jay added. "It's not often those two don't see eye to eye about something, but it seems like they have very different opinions on this."
"So what next?" Jack asked.
"Get back to finding the books we needed, I suppose," Jeremy said, "and then wait until Quintin gets back and tell him what we find out, because if I know Quintin, he won't stop until he gets to the bottom of this."