Chapter Four: Discovery
"Now, for homework…"
Al looked up as he caught the word, and several students seemed to come to themselves. The word "homework" was generally one disliked by any and all children, but in this case it meant Professor Binns's class was finally drawing to a close.
It was odd how the last two months had seemed to slide away, a rush of classes and events and letters and gossip, when this particular class lasted an eternity; already it was October 26th, with Halloween just a few days away and the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match a week after that. A flurry of letters had been exchanged between Albus and his father, confirming that Helen was indeed a distant relative. Al's father had been positively delighted, and bombarded his letters with questions of, "So how's Dudley doing these days?", "Who on earth married him?" and, "What did her grandparents think when they found out she were going to Hogwarts?" It wasn't until Al threatened to break into Gringotts, steal his father's money, and buy an owl for the sole purpose of Dursley-related questions that the flood finally stopped.
Meanwhile, the five friends had been delighted to find that the Room of Requirement did indeed still work. Unfortunately, they couldn't seem to get into it if the library was open, but they now had a place to go all hours—and even better, they had discovered a new form of communication that beat Nikki's cat by a long shot.
It was on their first successful attempt into the room Al had inadvertently discovered. All of them wandered around the comfortable room, studying this and that—Nikki immediately found a book labeled "99 Plotting Tips" and settled herself down in a corner—but it was Helen who spotted the Galleons first. Nikki proclaimed with delight that they looked like the ones she'd heard of (conveniently forgetting where when Albus demanded what she was talking about) and that they must have a Protean Charm on them; she had immediately confiscated all six and spent the next week testing them out. Now the five students were using them to alert each other when they needed to get together. Around the edge of the coin were numbers they used to let each other know when they could manage it; first four for the time, next four for the date, and the last one was either a one or a two, indicating whether they should go to the Room of Requirement or the Owlery. With this bit of convenience, Prank plannings were going much faster.
Al had been dwelling on the Prank all through class. All of them had been getting nervous as the assigned date drew nearer, and even though everything but the finest bits had been worked out by this point it felt like absolutely everything was going to go wrong. Now, however, he forced himself to pay some measure of attention to the world around him, as Rose scribbled the assignment down in her homework planner.
"For homework, one foot on Grindelwald's defeat in 1945 and how he impacted the Wizarding world. Due Wednesday. Class dismissed."
Al shoved his book back into his bag and headed for the exit, Rose following. His cousin was frowning thoughtfully.
"What's up, Rosie?"
"What? Oh, nothing really." The Weasley girl had forgotten to put her quill away, and was turning it absently in her fingers as they walked. "I was just thinking…"
"Yes, what about?" her cousin prodded, curious.
"Well, they really ought to get us new textbooks now we're looking at the twentieth century, don't you think? I mean, this is the third time we've had to research like this for our—why are you looking at me like that?" Albus had given her a blank stare. "Don't you dare tell me you've forgotten already—"
"He's forgotten already," parroted a voice behind the two. Scorpius ducked between the two Gryffindors, bag swinging on one arm, and grinned. "Go on, Rosie. I'm listening."
"My name," the girl said with cold dignity, "is Rose. Not Rosie. I'll see you at Hagrid's, Al."
She swung her bag over her shoulder and flounced off, head held high. The boys gaped after her. After a moment Al managed, "She really hates you, mate."
Scorpius snorted. "You kidding me? I've seen the look she gives me. It's not hate, Al, it's secret love."
Al gave his friend a sideways look, not sure if Scorpius was joking, but Scorpius barreled on before he could ask. "So you're going to Hagrid's this afternoon? Why didn't you tell me? We need to talk to him if we want to pull off—"
"And that's why I didn't tell you," retorted Al, irritated, "I still don't agree about that part. I mean, don't you think acromantulas are a bit much? They eat—"
"But that's the fun of it, see! 'Sides, I'm not looking for acromantulas, just big spiders that look like them—"
"And I'm telling you, they don't exist—"
"He just needs to tell us more about them, Nikki knows how to do an Engorgement Charm so we can use normal spiders, but it won't be any good if it's obviously fake—"
"Scorp, most of this is all right but if they so much as get a sniff of us at this—"
The pair argued in low voices all the way down the corridor, then split up to drop off their bags. Scorpius managed to persuade Albus, doubtfully, to let him come along to Hagrid's hut. Five minutes later, they arrived slightly breathless at the door — from Hagrid's voice rumbling within and the returning words, either old Fang had learned to speak or Rose had preceded them.
"She's not going to be happy," Al whispered as he raised his hand to rap on the door. Scorpius just grinned.
Hagrid flung the door open at the first knock. "Al! Great ter see ya, yer cousin's already—"
It was then that he spotted Scorpius, did a double take, and opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. At length the gamekeeper managed, "Gallopin' gargoyles, Al, your father know who yer makin' friends with?"
Scorpius had been grinning still. He tilted his head and studied the half-giant, smile fading just a little, then cleared his throat. Al's ears were red and he knew it.
"'Course he does, I told him and he's fine with it," the Potter boy said, a little defensively. There was an awkward pause, in which Hagrid continued to stare in puzzlement. "Er—can we come in?"
"Oh—righ'," Hagrid said quickly, stepping aside so the two boys could get through the door. The hut was cheerful and oversized as ever; there were three mugs set out at the table, and between the hastily-pushed-aside chair and some knitting that vaguely resembled a tent Al gathered that Hagrid had been sitting across from Rose when they'd knocked.
Said girl was, unfortunately, still sitting there; she had fastened them with the most venomous glare known to humankind.
"What is he doing here?" she demanded rather tactlessly of Hagrid, indicating Scorpius. The gamekeeper shrugged, clearly bewildered by the turn of events — well, truth be told Al hadn't seen so much of him since school began. He wouldn't have known.
"Sitting," retorted Scorpius insolently, filling one of the empty seats and taking the only unfilled mug. Hagrid blinked and hurriedly fumbled for a fourth mug in the cupboard; Rose's narrowed eyes turned onto Albus as if this was all his fault.
Well, in a way it was.
With a quiet "thanks" Al took the tea Hagrid offered and sat down in an empty chair; Hagrid followed suit. There was an awkward pause.
"So, Hagrid," Al said with a brave attempt at cheerfulness, "how's it going?"
"A'right," the gamekeeper mumbled. "Somethin's been a' the bowtruckles, bu' I cleaned 'em up. An'…er…" He cast a glance at Scorpius. "Yeah."
"Fascinating," Scorpius interjected eagerly. "It sounds great, being gamekeeper…knowing so much about the different stuff in the Forest."
"Oh, er, well…" Hagrid was clearly thrown off by the flattering politeness, where the Malfoy's predecessor would have given a cruel barb. "Guess yeh could say that. Lots of stuff in the Forest, yeah. Centaurs an' unicorns an'…an' bowtruckles."
"Must be hard," Scorpius pressed. "A dangerous job. Not something you'd trust to just anyone." He was carefully avoiding Rose's eyes - she was giving him a narrow-eyed, suspicious look.
Despite himself, the gamekeeper puffed up a little in pride. "Yeah, got the job from Dumbledore way back when…bu' Minerva trusts me, Professor McGonagall tha' is. An' I'm still teaching, too."
"I heard there's all sorts of cool stuff in the forest," Scorpius went on. "Thestrals, like, and—oh, I dunno. Is it true there's acromantulas?"
Rose stifled a gasp, dropping her jaw as she caught on to the game. "You little—" she hissed, but Hagrid didn't seem to hear.
"Yeah," he said distractedly, "yeah, used ter be acromantulas. Brought 'em in there, 's no secret. But, er…'s been a while since I was in there."
Something about the way he said it caught Al's attention. He glanced at Scorpius, who didn't notice his gaze, then at Rose, who was frowning too. His words cut across Scorpius's.
"Just out of curiosity—"
"How come you haven't been in the forest?"
"Wha'?" Startled, rather as though he'd forgotten they was there, Hagrid looked back at the Gryffindors. "Oh, 's nothin' really…jus' havin' a bit o' trouble with the centaurs is all…dunno why really," he added honestly, "bin a long time since I did anythin' to make them mad. They've been real secretive lately."
He shrugged, but it looked to Albus that he was just trying to put them at ease when he said, "Sure it'll blow over soon. Jus' can't get at the Forest till it does, is all. Don' worry about it."
Well, Albus decided as Scorpius wheedled out his bit about acromantulas, the three of them thanked Hagrid, and they trudged back up toward the castle, whatever it was that was wrong, he was glad he didn't take Care of Magical Creatures. Angry centaurs, honestly…
—
It was early Tuesday evening when Al remembered his History of Magic essay.
He had just finished a rather painfully extensive paper on locomotion spells for Charms class, courtesy of a certain issue with the feathers he and Scorpius were supposed to be floating around; as with most of his classes, he'd been aided by Nikki's knowledge of exactly what book to find information in and Rose's grudging checks of the finished essays. Now, running through his subjects on the way back to the Gryffindor common room, Al choked, turned around, and raced back to the library, praying that Nikki would still be there.
She was. The Ravenclaw girl was wearing an odd, veiled smile as she thumbed to the copyright page of a book on her table, and didn't glance up as her friend raced back in.
"Nikki—" Al panted, "I forgot—my History of Magic essay—about Grindelwald. It's due tomorrow. Can you help?"
"Grindelwald?" There was a strange tone to the second-year's voice as she carefully closed her book—satisfied, almost—and she still didn't look Al's way. "Sure. This book should work, actually, better than the one I recommended Rose. It's more recent." She passed it in his direction, and Al took it feverishly, poring through the contents.
"Relax, will you?" she added. "It's only seven o'clock. I'm sure not everyone has left the Great Hall yet, even. Try page two forty-four; I'm going to go find something for my Herbology class…"
Al found the indicated page and began skimming as Nikki wandered through the shelves, picked out a book entitled Shrivelfigs: Grow a Plant to Shrink a Foe and returned to her seat.
As he jotted down some quick notes, Al felt eyes on him. He glanced to the side and saw that Nikki was watching him intently. "Yes?" he asked, irritated.
She shrugged and turned back to her book wordlessly. Muttering something under his breath about insane bookworms, Al looked back to the book, trying to find his place again—and an odd phrase caught his eye.
Grindelwald's reign has often been compared to that of "You-Know-Who's" in more recent years. His defeat was no less spectacular, and it has often been mentioned that Albus Dumbledore was, in fact, a mentor to Harry Potter in his youth. However, it might be noted that there is no record that Grindelwald and "You-Know-Who" ever met…
Albus Potter's heart did a funny little jump, and he reread the passage, mouth silently shaping the words. 'You-Know-Who.' 'Albus Dumbledore.' And, with a strange leap of his stomach, 'Harry Potter…'
"Nikki," he asked slowly, "who was You-Know-Who?"
A/N: haha, cliffhanger. Unfortunately, you might have to wait longer for the next chapter than a week...visiting family, and I don't think I'll be getting on the computer for a while. Maybe I'll be nice and try to finish the next chapter this afternoon.