Chapter 8 - In which Al attempts to explain the situation
Escaping to Godric's Hallow in the middle of the night would have been next to impossible at Hogwarts twenty years ago. Al felt lucky that so many of the teachers were either old and tired or young and clueless. Besides, the world was safe, who cared what the students did?
"We're going to get caught," Scorpius said, though he showed very little worry about it.
"Nobody care's," Al said. "We can do anything."
"Okay, but if you end up being a dementor's bitch because of this, don't say I didn't warn you." Scorpius pulled out an apple from his pocket and bit into it.
"Do you mind?" Al asked.
"I'm hungry."
"This is a terrible time to eat, Scorpius."
"Hey, don't think I'm going to help you dig."
Al sighed. "Fine. I just need you to help me transport her."
Because he was under age, Al couldn't use his wand to dig up Lily Evens-Potter's grave. The whole age limitation on magic had always seemed a bit stupid to him. It wasn't as if somebody would be careless one day, and then wake up the next day and say, "Why, it's my seventeenth birthday! I suppose it's time to start acting mature!" Everyone knew that most magic related accidents and deaths were caused by wizards at the age of seventeen, who were so overjoyed by their newfound freedom that they carelessly used all sorts of magic at all times for all sorts of stupid reasons. Al couldn't help but feel that getting rid of the age limit would, if nothing else, teach people to start being more careful with magic at a younger age. But, whatever. Al picked up a shovel and began to dig.
"So, are you sure you know how to bring back the dead?" Scorpius asked, apple bits flying from his mouth.
"I'm positive," Al replied, digging.
"How do you know?" Scorpius continued.
"I just do," Al said.
"Do explain."
Al sighed. "It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I think there are bits of other people's souls living inside of me."
"Yeah, that doesn't make a lot of sense."
"Shut up. Anyway," Al went on, "I first really started thinking about this idea because of the paintings at Hogwarts. They are imprinted with the soul of the person pictured, giving the illusion that the person is still alive. However, unlike with a Horecrux, it does not actually contain the person's soul."
"A whore what?"
"Don't worry about it." Al kept on digging. "Anyway, as I was saying, I came upon the conclusion that it's entirely possible that people could be similar, containing the imprint of a soul. But, if the person displayed characteristics of the person who's soul was imprinted onto them, the imprint would grow until it closely resembled a soul, thinking and acting for itself."
"Yeah, that's reasonable," Scorpius scoffed, still nibbling at his apple.
"It is, though. I mean, it's hard to understand, but trust me, I've thought about it, and it's entirely reasonable." Al had cleared away little over a foot of earth at this point. "So, as I was trying to tell you, an imprinted soul wouldn't grow if the person it was imprinting on wasn't like them to some extent. But if the person it's imprinting on displays similar moods and patterns, the soul will thrive, almost to the point of overtaking the host body."
"You sound like some sort of creepy scientist," Scorpius said. "Not that I know anything about science, but…"
"And then," Al began, louder, "The soul would attempt to carry out its own deeds, ignoring the host body's true soul. This would cause a person to act strangely, with sharp mood swings and out of character actions. Now, normally this would be the end of the story, a person forever trapped carrying out a dead person's will. But, fortunately for us, there were the Peverell brothers."
"Are they supposed to be like the Brothers Grimm or something?"
"Seriously, shut up," Al ordered. "So, the Peverell brothers are known for attempting to cheat death. They created three objects: the elder wand, an invisibility cloak, and a stone that could bring back the dead."
"Hey, it's like rock, paper, scissors! Let's see, stone beats cloak, which beats wand, which beats…"
"As I was saying, most people believed that their flight from death was a metaphor. What I believe is that there could literally be a way to cheat death if the three were combined."
"So, let's say the Grimm brothers or whoever did stumble upon the secret to kicking death's ass. Then why has nobody ever heard of people bringing others back from the dead?" Scorpius asked, moderately interested.
"Because the Peverell brothers never truly figured out how to use their creations," Al answered. "First off, bringing back the dead would require putting their three inventions together, and most likely none of the brothers were fond of this communistic way of thinking. Second, they probably never figured out the secret ingredient: the soul imprint."
"Okay, so how do you do it?" Scorpius asked.
"Well, for one, it has to be performed by the one who contains the imprint of the soul of the person being brought back," Al explained. "They have to have the persons body or a piece of their body in order so that the body can rebuild once its soul is in tact. The person performing the spell must use the elder want and they must cover the dead body with the cloak to shield it from dying again immediately." Scorpius began to open his mouth, but Al continued, "I know, you're wondering how the cloak can shield the body from death. My guess is the cloak has some of the same traits at a philosopher's stone, keeping the body alive long enough to rebuild. Anyway, in order to perform the spell, the person casting it must have the stone that can bring back the person's soul. They then say a spell that will shoot both the soul and the imprint of the soul into the person's body, and when the two soul pieces mix, the body is reanimated."
"Okay, so how do you know if you have a chunk of some dead guys soul in you?" Scorpius asked.
"You just do," Al said.
"And who decides who gets whose soul."
Al smirked. "You parents." In response to the confused look on Scorpius' face, Al decided to explain. "It's almost perfect, really: it's all in the name. When your parents name you after a person, they're imprinting the persons soul onto yours. And, because they probably decided to name you after the person because you reminded them of the person in some way, you're most likely going to display similar traits to the person who has been imprinted onto you, allowing the imprint to grow into a soul bit."
"Um… Why?"
Al shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly, I think all of this was just so that somebody could only be brought back if they were loved. I mean, who would give their child the name of someone they hated? It's just sort of a precaution to make sure nobody tries to resurrect a bunch of dicks."
"Okay, next question: Isn't this, like, evil? Not that I'm against it either way, it's just…" Scorpius took a bite of his ravished apple.
Al shrugged in reply. "Jesus brought back the dead."
"I guess," Scorpius said. "I don't know a lot about religion."
"Fuck this," Al said. He threw his shovel to the side and pulled out his wand. With a swish and a flick, the grave was completely clear of dirt. "The ministry doesn't really care, anyway." Al levitated the coffin next to him and sat it down in the grass. He got down on his hands and knees and began to pry open the box.
"One more question," Scorpius said.
"What?"
Scorpius took the last possible bite from the apple core. "Why her?"
Al swung open the lid of the coffin. He reached inside, tracing his fingers over his grandmother's scull. "Because she never should have died in the first place."
~*~*~
James was sure Al was up to something. All morning, Al had been muttering to himself, and Rose told James that Al had excused himself from his classes earlier, claiming to be sick. "Good thing he's up to something," James thought to himself. He'd been considering just doing something bad himself and making it look like Al had done it, but he'd decided against it on account that it was one of the most un-Gryffindory things he'd ever heard of. So, now he just needed to wait for Al to do something bad, and in the mean time he had to because even stronger at defensive spells and try as hard as possible to stay out of trouble.
"You seem tired," Mickey said to James after this week's dueling club meeting was over.
James grunted in reply.
"What are you going to do to him?" Mickey asked.
James' head shot up. "To who?"
"Your brother," Mickey said. "You were staring at him all during dinner and you kept muttering to yourself about him during dueling practice."
"It's just… What do you do if you know somebody's going to do something bad?" James asked.
"Do you know he's going to do something bad?" Mickey asked in response.
"Well, not entirely, but I'm sure he's up to something," James said. "He's always been a bit off, but lately he's just been acting completely loony, and I think he's going to do something bad. Call it a gut feeling."
"Well, what do you want to do?" Mickey asked. "Help him or defeat him?"
"I just want to stop him," James replied.
"Stop him by getting him help or by killing him?" Mickey asked.
James shrugged. "Whichever works."
"Well, I believe in rehabilitation over punishment myself, but you do what you need to, James." Mickey cocked her head and stared at James. "You know, you're as brave as a Gryffindor, as smart as a Ravenclaw, and as cunning as a Slytherin, but you're not nearly as nice as a Hufflepuff."
"What's that supposed to mean?" James questioned.
"I just think you should give your brother a chance is all," Mickey said. With that, she turned and walked away.
Giving his brother a chance did seem like the right thing to do. But something inside of James wanted Al dead, and he felt very ready to listen to the angry voices in his head.
~*~*~
Al found Lily in the library. "I have to talk to you," he said.
She closed the book she'd been reading. "Alright. What is it?"
Al opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before any words came out. Finally, he said, "Do you trust me?"
Lily looked into his green eyes. "No, I don't. I'm sorry."
"Do you trust even a small part of me?" Al asked.
Lily thought for a moment. "Yes. There are parts of you I trust."
"I love you, you know that?" Al said.
"In what way?" Lily asked him.
"As a sister, as a daughter, as a lover," Al replied. "Isn't that odd?"
"Immensely so," little Lily Potter replied.
Al sighed. "Lily, there's something I have to do. Do you trust me to always do what's right?"
"Sometimes," Lily replied.
"Do you trust me to never harm you?"
"Sometimes."
"If you trust me, me as a whole, even a little, close your eyes."
Lily closed her eyes. She felt Al's warm lips on hers. Even after he'd drawn away, she kept her eyes closed. She heard Al speak. "Impirio." And then she didn't hear anything for a long time.