Chapter 13 : The Dragonfang Wand
When Albus was younger, he remembered his father once coming home from work and using the term "swamped". He remembered wondering, if only vaguely, what the difference was between being "swamped" and simply working a lot. As January inched closer to February, Albus thought that he had found his answer.
Free time was once a very precious gift at Hogwarts-especially during the latter half of the year. But now Albus found it to be completely non-existent. When he wasn't working his way through countless homework assignments in preparation for his exams, he was doing one of two things-flying, or sleeping.
Atticus had booked the Quidditch Pitch every other day in anticipation for the match against Hufflepuff, which would occur on the third of February. Their training had intensified since Gryffindor had demolished Ravenclaw the week before. They had won by a margin of three hundred points.
"Three hundred points!" Atticus called out to him during a particularly windy training session. "Remember that Al, three hundred points. You've got to catch that Snitch at precisely the right moment!"
"I know how much they won by!" Albus snapped back as he zoomed across the field, the harsh wind smacking him against the face as he barely dodged a Bludger.
Truth be told, Albus was twice as nervous for the upcoming match than he was against his brother and Gryffindor. He now had a reputation to keep. Unlike James, who had burst through the doors of Hogwarts proudly exclaiming that he was the son of a famous hero, Albus had slipped through the cracks of popularity, even amongst most in his own house. Whereas James was known for playing pranks and dueling in corridors, Albus had the uncomfortable feeling that he had been written off as the "bad apple" of the Potter family since the day he was sorted. Winning two Quidditch games in a row would give him a boost; a name for himself. He was determined to prove that beating his brother before had been no fluke.
While Quidditch was taking top priority, second year students were met with a new form of stress. It was time for them to choose which classes they would be taking the next year, in addition to the ones that they already had.
"What the hell is Arithmancy?" Bartleby Bing, a fellow Slytherin in Albus' year was saying the morning that they got the sign up sheet. "Is that like cooking? They teach cooking here?"
"It's the study of mathematics and its magical properties" Scorpius said from next to Albus; his paper was propped up against his glass of orange juice. "Heard it's pretty tough."
"I'm thinking of taking Divination" Morrison said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I mean really? Seeing the future? What could possibly be more useful than that?"
"Ahh don't take it" Albus said as he scanned his own paper. "My dad told me it's a waste of a subject."
"Do you already know what you're taking?" Morrison asked him.
"One of them" Albus responded. He had decided on Care For Magical Creatures the second that he had seen the paper, as he knew Hagrid taught it. With a pang of guilt, he realized that he hadn't talked to Hagrid in weeks, and made a mental note to visit him.
Though Albus had his thoughts on his classes for the next year, it was nothing compared to the stress that his current classes had been bringing him recently. Maybe it was his inability to juggle Quidditch with classwork, but Scorpius was now "helping" him with nearly all of his homework, and he frequently found himself skipping entire questions on tests. In fact, the only class he even felt comfortable with was Potions.
The Friday before the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff had Albus doing one of his most challenging lessons yet in Darvy's class. The students were asked to make an antidote for ashwinder poison-blindfolded.
"It is important that you learn the texture and other characteristics of your ingredients!" Darvy called out from somewhere in the room. "Many items that you use are much too similar in appearance; you must learn to correctly identify everything that you use by even the most subtle of hints!"
"Is this frog spleen?" Mirra asked him; they were partnered again. Albus could hear Morrison and Scorpius bickering just a few feet away, though the blindfolds that had been placed around them made it quite impossible to see.
Albus felt around and took what she was holding. He juggled it in his hands. "Way too rubbery to be frog spleen" he told her. "And it isn't slimy enough either." He weighed it in his hands. "I have no idea what this is" he told her in all honesty. "Where did you get this?"
"Off the floor" he heard her giggle.
He grinned. "Well that explains it. Do you even know what I'm holding?"
She laughed. "Nope. By the way, what classes are you signed up for, for next year?"
He dropped the rubbery item on what he thought was the table-only to hear a large splash in his cauldron. "Care for Magical Creatures, definitely" he said. "Haven't decided on the other one yet. You?"
Though he couldn't see her, he knew that she had given a shrug. "Still no idea, looking over the classes later today. Probably going to take whatever Rose is taking."
Albus cringed. He had had little contact with his cousin since he and and his friends had explained to her that Darvy had assured them that there was nothing to worry about. True, this was mostly because of his hectic schedule, but Albus also had the strange suspicion that Rose had felt weak in letting him know that she was worried; she was probably not very keen on spending as much time with him.
"Excellent, well done you two" Darvy's voice came from what sounded like centimeters away. Albus could hear him sniffing the potion.
"Thank you Professor" Albus said, unsure of which direction to say it in.
The bell rang soon after, and Albus removed his blindfold and packed up his things as the class bustled by him.
"No homework tonight!" Professor Darvy called out. "Enjoy the game tomorrow! Good luck Albus!" he called as Albus walked by his desk.
Morrison and Scorpius caught up with him in the hall leading back to the Slytherin common room.
"Darvy seem a bit nicer to you?" Scorpius asked him as they approached the stone wall.
Albus shrugged. "Not really, but he's certainly acting like we never talked to him though. Which is probably for the better really. We're supposed to be good little kids about it, aren't we?"
"Baron" Morrison said to the blank wall, and within seconds they were in their dormitory, Scorpius spread out on his bed bouncing a ball off of the ceiling.
"I do want to know what's going on with Ares and that wand though" Albus said as he sat on his bed, face supported by his hands. "Darvy never told us to let that one go..."
Morrison rolled his eyes, and Albus understood why-he had not let the subject go since they had left Darvy's office that day. Even with his full schedule, Albus had spent many an hour in the Room of Requirement, attempting to unravel the mystery of Ares and the wand that he possessed.
The Room of Requirement was a room that he and Scorpius had discovered (or more accurately, heard about from their parents) the year before. Though normally a room of great use, Albus' inability to be specific had made it near useless. As he could not remember the name of the wand, the most that he could do was ask the room to give him books full of powerful wands from across the centuries. Albus had skimmed through maybe five of the millions of books that the room had given him before realizing that he would have to know more about it before getting any information on it.
"Well, chances are the wand is more dangerous than it is famous" Scorpius said as the ball bounced off of his head.
"How so?" Albus asked him.
"Well my grandad got real serious when it was mentioned. But if I can't remember what it was called, it probably isn't well known. I've read a lot of books on wandlore. I'm almost positive it began with a 'D' though."
"Yeah but Ares is supposed to be a pretty powerful guy anyway, isn't he? Ex-Auror and all. What's he doing with an extra dangerous wand? Why bother?" Albus asked him.
Morrison sighed, while Scorpius merely gave a shrug. "Maybe it makes Unforgivable curses easier?" he said thoughtfully.
"Unforgivable what?" both Albus and Morrison asked at the same time.
"The Unforgiva- wait, you guys are kidding right?"
They both shook their heads, and Scorpius sat up from his bed, grinning. "I can see why you wouldn't know" he said, indicating Morrison. "But Al- really? You're serious?"
Albus narrowed his eyes. Though Scorpius was one of his best friends, he hated it when Scorpius knew something about the magical world that he didn't. History of Magic dates and the names of certain spells were fine, but he could tell from the smirk on Scorpius' face that he was missing out on something big.
"Yes I'm serious!" he snapped. "So what are they then?"
Scorpius held up three fingers. "Well there's three of them, but wow- I figured you'd know. Didn't you wonder where your dad got his scar?" He looked genuinely shocked.
"From a curse" Albus responded, searching his memory for if his father had ever used the term 'Unforgivable'.
"Spit it out already!" Morrison said. "I'm interested too!".
"Right, anyway" Scorpius continued, "there's three Unforgivable Curses. The first one is the Imperius Curse. It lets you like- take over someone's mind. Like make them do stuff. You can fight it though. Kind of hard to explain. Second one is the Cruciatus Curse. Hit someone with that, and it's pure pain. Will keep you up for weeks afterwards. Like getting stabbed with a thousand knives."
Albus saw Morrison shuffle slightly from next to him. "And the third?" Albus asked, his curiosity now at its peak.
Scorpius gave him an uncomfortable look. "Avada Kedavra" he said quietly.
"Avada Kawhat?" Morrison asked.
"Avada Kedavra" Scorpius repeated. "Instant death. Just a flash of green light, and you're a goner. That's what gave your dad that scar Al."
"How? If it kills you?" Albus asked.
"No one knows" Scorpius said. "You think your dad got famous for beating Voldemort? He was famous years before that-got that scar when he was one, somehow made it rebound and hit Voldemort instead. That's why he was so famous. You really didn't know that?"
Albus didn't answer. He remembered asking about the scar when he was younger. His father had said he was hit with a terrible curse. He remembered asking why he only had one set of grandparents. He had received the same answer. Albus had been encouraged to ask questions when he was younger, but he always had the strange idea that his father had omitted something, as though his father was trying to block the really bad stuff out. So was that how his grandparents had died? Is that why his father was so famous? A terrible flash of green light?"
"I don't believe that" he said after a moment. "A spell that kills you one hit? Impossible. Why would anyone ever use anything else in a duel? Kind of makes other spells a bit pointless, doesn't it?"
"Doesn't mean it's not real" Scorpius argued. "And besides, I hear you have to be like a really accomplished wizard to use it. Takes a lot of raw power; a lot of real skill. I'm sure most wizards couldn't use it if they tried."
"You know an awful lot about this" Morrison said, and Scorpius went pink.
"Just some stuff I picked up from around my house" he mumbled. "But now that I think on it, if Ares is an ex-Auror, and used to be a teacher, he probably doesn't need an extra special wand for that. It must be unique. Do something other wands can't do. Right Al?"
Albus was still staring blankly at the wall. He did not know why, but he suddenly felt scared. Was it that easy to die?
"Look, let's just forget about this" Morrison said, seeing the look on Albus' face. "You've got bigger stuff to worry about than some wand that Ares may or may not have."
Albus turned to him. "Like what?" he said, distracted.
"You've got a Quidditch game to win tomorrow" he said.
Albus awoke the next day sweating. His nerves about the upcoming game were in some ways worse, and in some ways better than those of his first. The feelings of discomfort were gone; he knew that he was talented enough to play. But he was now a minor celebrity in his house, and losing would make him the one true "Potter fluke."
Still early in the morning, he made his way down to breakfast without his friends. The sun was only just coming up, and as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast he found himself at peace with the dim light. He was the only Slytherin up. The Hufflepuff Quidditch team was already there in its entirety. None of them were eating, though they all gave him a disdainful look. Albus was used to this; he knew it had nothing to do with being on a rival team. Every Slytherin got those looks from time to time.
He helped himself to pancakes and orange juice and waited for the rest of his team to arrive. After fifteen minutes, only Atticus had showed up.
"You're up early" Atticus said with a grin as he took his seat next to him.
"Just a bit nervous" Albus replied. "You look tired" he added, indicating the bags under Atticus' eyes.
He shrugged. "Prefect duty last night. Up until one, maybe two in the morning. Had the Headmaster not let me off I'd probably still be patrolling" he said. He stifled a yawn. "I don't expect the rest of the team to be here for a bit. Want to go over some strategies?"
"Yeah- wait, what? Ares was up? You saw him?"
Atticus nodded. "Down on the first floor. I guess he was patrolling. I bumped into him and he told me I could go to bed, that he had it from there. Lucky me too, I needed my rest."
"Yeah...yeah lucky you" Albus said under his breath, not sure of what he was saying. Ares had been out again last night. Did Darvy tail him? Was he joined in the Forest once more?
"You okay mate?" Atticus said from what seemed like very far away. "You're out of it."
Albus' eyes snapped up from the ground. He shook it off. "Yeah" he said. "Just nervous about the game."
"Well not eating won't help!" Atticus said, apparently ignoring the pile of pancakes on Albus' plate. He quickly tossed bacon onto a separate plate and pushed it towards him. "I can't have my star going hungry before a game!"
An hour and several strips of bacon later, Albus sat in the locker room with his team, half listening as Atticus rambled about playing strategies.
"Hufflepuff's Beaters are small, but speedy. They can get to a Bludger twice as fast as we can, and that D'Von Deneve has some of the best aim I've seen on a third year. Don't stay on one side of the field, move around..."
Albus tuned it out. He had missed it! He knew that Darvy had told him to stay out of it, knew that he shouldn't be involved at all, but he knew-somehow-that finding out what Ares did in the Forest would lead him to the mysterious wand that he had acquired, the wand that even Scorpius' grandfather feared. If only he knew when Ares was going out to the Forest. If only he could get the map from James...
"Now Gryffindor blew Ravenclaw out, so if we want to be far enough ahead in the standings that we get an automatic final match, we have to win by about two hundred points here. So Al, stay on the outskirts until we're fifty points up, then catch the snitch, okay?"
"Got it, get the map from James" he said, lost in his thoughts. His team stared at him. "I- I mean, catch the Snitch when we're fifty points up" he said quickly. He could see Osmund Hall, one of the Beaters, surveying him with interest from across the room.
"What map? What are you talking about Potter?" Atticus demanded, sounding much more captain like than he had at breakfast.
"Nothing- never mind it" Albus stammered.
Atticus continued to stare at him for another moment before continuing his rant. "Anyway, Hufflepuff's Keeper sprained his wrist not too long ago. He's probably all patched up, but Beaters, you know where to aim..."
Within minutes, they were down on the Quidditch Pitch, taking their positions amidst hundreds of cheering fans. As Albus took his place on the Pitch, he shook all thoughts of Ares and any wand he might have from his head. He couldn't be distracted. He had a reputation.
The whistle sounded, and he kicked off. He flew through the air, wind nearly knocking him off course as he did so. He had shot up so quickly that he couldn't hear anything else, but he knew that the sounds of the commentators slander would soon reach his ears.
Dimitrius Parks was a seventh year Hufflepuff Prefect who made it a point to accuse every single Slytherin move as a cheat. Albus was normally forced to sit on the side lines as his team was verbally bashed, but now he would have the opportunity to experience it first hand. In fact, as he was playing Hufflepuff, he had the strange feeling it would only intensify.
"And Hufflepuff takes the Quaffle!" Parks voice rang out through the wind. "That's Fischer who's got it now, drops it to Loderin, aiming for the Keeper- but he's blocked- nice Bludger from Hall, possibly tampered with-"
Albus heaved a sigh as three fourths of the crowd murmured with agreement at Parks' words. Slytherin was always "cheating."
He flew around in circles for the first several minutes of the game, pleased to note that Atticus' constant blabbering about poor weather conditions had been for nothing; the skies were the clearest that they had been in weeks.
"Thirty to nil Slytherin" Parks said after a few minutes. The majority of the crowd groaned. Albus grinned at his team's lead, then saw it- the Snitch, hovering right near the Hufflepuff Seeker.
Albus slowly flew near him. The Hufflepuff Seeker had not noticed the Snitch hovering inches above his head. He knew that he could not catch it though, Albus had been told not to do that until they were fifty points up. Instead, he aimed to separate the oppisition from his goal.
Albus shot forward like a bullet, his broom taking him across the sky so fast he knew that he was little more than an emerald blur. The Hufflepuff Seeker saw him and gave a yell before diving at least twenty feet. Albus came to a stop and watched as the Snitch disappeared from view.
"The Slytherin Seeker rushes into the Hufflepuff Seeker" Parks was commenting. "Not entirely sure that's legal, he could have really injured him, but either way an effective tactic in separating him from the Snitch..."
Albus rolled his eyes. "Just ignore him" Damian Peesley said as he passed, before grabbing the Quaffle from Connie Orik and speeding towards the goal post.
But twenty minutes later, Albus was still ignoring him. Slytherin was still only up by thirty, it was now one hundred and twenty to ninety. He was growing restless and sick of Parks' jabs. Twice he had been forced to try and knock the Hufflepuff Seeker off of his broom to prevent him from catching the Snitch.
"Time out" Albus called. The whistle sounded, and Albus was on the ground within seconds, surrounded by his team.
"There's been way too many close calls" he said. It was weird speaking as though he were the captain; he was still the shortest and youngest on the team.
"Their Keeper is too good" Atticus admitted. "He's blocked half of what we've thrown at him."
"Look, next time I see the snitch, I'm catching it" Albus said, and the team began talking amongst themselves. "I don't care if we're up by more than fifty or not, I'd rather we win a close game than fumble near the end and lose."
Atticus nodded. "Give us five minutes to get up by fifty. Beaters, aim right for their Chasers, get us possession of the Quaffle. Al, after five minutes, do what you have to do, regardless."
Albus nodded. The whistle sounded and he flew back into the air. He circled the Pitch as the game continued around him.
"We're ready to resume the game after a Slytherin time out" Parks' voice echoed around the stadium. The crowd was still cheering fiercely. "Sanders takes the Quaffle..."
Moments later Atticus had scored, and they were now up by forty. Albus continued to tail the Hufflepuff Seeker, who was growing increasingly agitated at how quickly Albus was able to cut him off.
Booing came from around the stadium a few seconds later, and Albus knew that this meant Slytherin had scored again. They were fifty points up. It was time to act.
Ignoring the shouts of the crowd and Parks' accusations of Slytherin cheating, Albus rose high above the rest of the players to scan the field. He let his eyes wander around, searching for the glimmer of gold that he was now allowed to catch. He glanced past the Gryffindor stands, then the Ravenclaw, and saw the stands in which some members of the staff sat. He saw Ares sitting in the back row, talking very fast to someone who looked familiar...
He froze in mid air. Rookwood, the man whom Albus had now met twice, was back at Hogwarts. He was much too far away to even imagine what they were saying, but he could tell from how closely they were leaning into each other that their conversation was hushed. As if on cue, they both stood up and began walking down the stairs back to the grounds. He watched, hovering in silence, and realized that they were going into the Forest.
"ALBUS GET MOVING!"
He spun around, snapped from his concentration. Atticus was hovering a few feet under him, frantically pointing at the other side of the field, where the Hufflepuff Seeker had gone into a spectacular dive. He saw the Snitch so low that it may have been touching the ground.
He accelerated, pushing his broom forward and silently cursing himself for having stopped paying attention to the game. The Hufflepuff Seeker was closer, but he was faster. He zoomed across the field, slowly descending as he did so, weaving his way through players so quickly that a Hufflepuff nearly fell off of his broom.
"Come on, come on" he muttered as he pushed further on his broom. He ducked his head low to avoid a Bludger that may have decapitated him at the speed he was going. He closed in, he was now the same distance from the Snitch as his rival. He stretched out his hand-
They collided. Albus felt his head bang against what could have been an elbow or a knee. He had been going so fast that when they made contact they both spun around. He flailed his arms wildly and heard the Hufflepuff Seeker yell, though it was barely audible over the noise of the crowd. He slid across the ground and felt his broomstick roll beside him. He could see stars. He kept his fist closed, the beating of the Snitch's wings irritating his lifeless fingers.
"Slytherin wins!" he heard Parks say, and unlike last time, he did not sound disappointed, but rather infuriated.
Albus grinned at the bitterness in his voice just as his team swarmed around him. Atticus and Osmund Hall hoisted him up. He could see the Hufflepuff players marching off the field, heads hung low. The applause of his own house was doing little to drown out the booing of the other three houses, but it was there, he could hear it.
He released the Snitch and looked into the Gryffindor stands. Most of them had left, but he could see someone standing quite still in the front row. His brother, complete with a cocky smirk and ruffled hair, was giving him the thumbs up.
Albus was the hero of Slytherin house for the next few days. The Quidditch final was set. Gryffindor against Slytherin in a rematch from the previous the year, in which there had been no victor. It was hard to see who was getting more attention, Albus or his brother. James was still more popular overall, but Albus was no longer a one trick pony. He was two and zero in Quidditch, something that James couldn't claim this year.
As if the party afterwards wasn't enough, Slytherins were patting him on the back everywhere he went.
"Way to go, Potter" a large seventh year said to him one day in the hall, shaking his hand.
"You'll win us the cup for sure" a pretty fourth year girl exclaimed as he was leaving the bathroom a few days later.
Albus couldn't shake the feeling that his house weren't the only ones giving him special treatment however. Gryffindors were particularly nasty to his teammates, and as far away as the final match was, there had been some scuffles in the hallway. None with Albus though, and he knew that he had his brother to thank for that.
Strangely enough, Albus was the only one who wasn't particularly happy. Though satisfied with his victory, and certainly pleased at his new popularity as well, he had much more pressing issues on his mind.
"This close!" he exclaimed, pounding his fist on his bed a few days after the match.
Scorpius, whose head was buried in a book titled Advanced Charms: Spells to Hurt and Heal looked up and rolled his eyes. Morrison did the same. "Not this again" he muttered.
"I was there. I saw them leaving" Albus said furiously. The thought of Ares entering the Forest while the rest of the school was at the game was all that he could think about in his spare time. "I can't believe I saw them leaving and didn't go after them."
"Oh come on Al" Scorpius said, marking his page and putting the book down. "What were you supposed to do, fly off the Pitch and let Hufflepuff win?"
"No, but I could've- I don't- I could have done something else. Other than stand there gawking. I want to know what he's up to! Whatever Darvy says, he's not just meeting with wizards. Whatever that wand is, he shouldn't have it."
"Well that's it, we don't know what that wand can do, let alone what it's even called. So drop it" Morrison said irritably.
Albus called it quits soon after. His friends didn't understand. They hadn't heard the way Neville had argued with Ares in the hall, nor the way that Ares had acted when his father had brought up his stay in Azkaban the previous year.
"Want to go to Hagrid's?" he said suddenly after a few moments, remembering that he had been meaning to visit him for quite some time.
Morrison checked his watch. "Yeah, we still have time before dinner."
They bundled themselves up in their cloaks and made their way down to Hagrid's hut, Slytherins patting Albus on the back as they went.
"I could get used to that" Morrison said, as he received a smile from an attractive seventh year girl simply for walking next to Albus.
"It gets boring after a while" Albus said with a shrug as they arrived at Hagrid's hut. Smoke was billowing from the top of it, signaling that Hagrid was home. Albus gave a large knock. They heard bustling around, and after a few seconds, Hagrid came to the door.
"Well, look who it is" he said gruffly, beaming at the sight of them. "Had I not seen you playin' Qui'ich I'd of thought you were dead" he added with a wink to Albus.
Albus grinned. "Sorry Hagrid" he said, and he truly did mean it. "I've been meaning to stop by for ages. Mind letting us in?" he asked, and Hagrid stepped aside to let them enter.
The cabin was nice and warm, and just as comfortable as usual. Albus and his friends sat down at the round table while Hagrid busied himself with making tea.
"Any fudge Hagrid?" Morrison asked hopefully, and Hagrid placed a large silver tin on the table. He chuckled as Morrison started to devour it.
"There mus' be summat' in that fudge" Hagrid said in between chuckles. "You'll be my size soon Morrison."
Albus thought that that statement had been a bit of a stretch, but there was no denying that Morrison was exceptionally tall for a twelve year old. He had several inches on both Albus and Scorpius, and was frequently mistaken for a fourth, or sometimes even fifth year student.
"So what have you been up to Hagrid?"
Hagrid took a large gulp of tea before speaking. "Absolutely nothin" he said with a grin. "Just taking care of a new batch of bowtruckles. There was a nasty injury the other day, some fifth year idiot was messin' 'roun' with a thestral I was showin em'."
"Thestral?" Morrison asked.
"Big winged thing. Kinna' looks like a lizar' and a horse. Which reminds me, wha' classes you kids takin' next year?"
"All three of us are taking Care For Magical Creatures" Albus said with a grin, and Hagrid beamed. They had decided and submitted their class selection papers the previous day.
"Oh you jus' wait, you three are gonna' have a blast. It'll probably be yer favorite class next year. I can still remember yer dad's first lesson, Al. Rode a Hippogriff all the way 'round the grounds."
"What about my dad?" Scorpius asked. "Did he ride one too?"
Hagrid went red and scratched his head. "Don' remember" he said. He changed the topic quickly. "So what other classes are ya' takin'? Gotta' have three right?"
"Minimum of two" Albus said. "I'm taking your class and Muggle Studies."
"Same with me" Scorpius said.
"Muggle Studies?" Hagrid asked, bewildered. "Your pick, but I'd take summin' a bit more useful."
Albus shrugged. In truth, he had only picked it because it sounded easy, and he knew that Scorpius had only picked it so that he would have someone to copy off of if it turned out hard.
"What abou' you?" Hagrid asked Morrison.
"I'm taking Divination. Seems easy and useful" he replied through a thick mouthful of treacle fudge. He stared down at the empty tin with a sad expression on his face.
"Ahh. Well that's not much better..."
The conversation jumped around and they spent more than twenty minutes there discussing things like Quidditch and Morrison's sisters' upcoming wedding. It eventually jumped back to one of Hagrid's favorite subjects however-stories of Albus' dad and his time at Hogwarts.
"So anyway, I ended up gettin' him an owl. A snowy one, beau'iful, you shoulda' seen it. Owls make great pets, and I wanted to give him summin' good for his eleventh birthday."
"Did you ever have any pets Hagrid?" Morrison asked him.
"Oh yeah, loads" Hagrid said. "Some of 'em not really pets, I mean, I tend to a lot of creatures an' such. But I've had a fair share."
"How many?" Scorpius asked him as he stirred around his cup of tea.
Hagrid leaned back and began ticking them off of his fingers. "Let's see, I had a kneazle named Knobby, a giant acromantula named Aragog, an' I guess all of his kids too-these are in no particula' order mind you-an' a fire crab named Clawz. Had Norbert fer abou' a week, rare he was. Or she, Norberta they call her now. And she was a bea'iful dragon. Fang, me old boar hound, he died not too long ago, I miss him. But he was ol'..."
Scorpius spit out his tea all over the table.
"OY!" the rest of them shouted as Scorpius spluttered, accidently knocking his entire cup over as he frantically apologized.
"What's the matter with you?" Hagrid bellowed as he wiped his face off, tea dripping from his enormous beard.
"Sorry Hagrid" Scorpius stammered out. He pulled out his wand. "Scourgify!"
The mess of tea all over the table was wiped up instantly by Scorpius' spell. Albus turned to compliment him on it but saw Scorpius giving him an icy glare. "We have to go" he mouthed.
Bewildered, Albus turned to Hagrid. "Right, we should be going, dinner's in a few minutes and we have some homework we want to finish first."
Hagrid gave him an inquisitive look. "You kids do homework?" he asked.
"Sometimes" Scorpius said quickly. "Sorry Hagrid, see ya' later..."
They left seconds later, Hagrid scratching his head and muttering to himself.
"What's with you?" Albus asked as they marched up the grassy slope to the castle. "That was kind of rude. And right after you knocked tea all over his table..."
"Dragonfang" Scorpius said. "The wand Ares has, it was called the Dragonfang Wand. I remember now."
Albus stopped walking. "How, what made you remember? Are you sure?" he asked, though even as he asked it, he recalled hearing the name.
"Hagrid said it!"
"Hagrid said it?" Morrison asked. They had all stopped walking now.
"Well I mean- he didn't- not exac- he just did! He was talking about Norbert-Norberta, whatever that dragon's name was. Then he mentioned his dog's name, it just clicked- trust me, it was called the Dragonfang Wand!"
Albus felt excitement flood through him. "If we've got its name, we can find it!"
He ran into the castle, Scorpius and Morrison right behind him. Charging up the stairs and ignoring the calls of students telling him to slow down, he found himself on the seventh floor, a blank stretch of wall right beside him. He quickly closed his eyes and began walking back and forth in front of it, concentrating fiercely on a single thought. I need to know about the Dragonfang Wand.
Scorpius and Morrison caught up with him just as a giant door magically appeared where the blank stretch of wall had just been.
"Did that door just randomly appear on that wall?" Morrison asked, dumbstruck.
"Long story" Scorpius said. "Secret room, gives you anything."
Morrison's jaw dropped, but Scorpius merely shrugged and continued. "It's Hogwarts, I'm sure there's weirder rooms."
Albus burst through the door, expecting to see little less than a library filled with the information that he craved. He was more than disappointed. There where no shelves of books, not even a stack. Just a single book laying in the middle of the floor.
Albus stared. One book? He went to go pick it up. It wasn't very big, and it had no cover. He checked the side of it. It was a biography of a man named Vesnovitch VI.
"What the heck is this!" he exclaimed loudly. "Who's Vesnovitch Vy?"
Scorpius and Morrison entered the room. He handed the book to Scorpius to see what he could make of it. "His name isn't 'vy', that's a roman numeral. This guys name was Vesnovitch the Sixth."
"Well open it up" Albus urged him.
Morrison spoke up, his tone mingled with both curiosity and betrayal. "What is this place? And how come you guys never told me about it?"
"Long story" Scorpius repeated. "Well you asked for a book about the wand, so it should be in here somewhere." He flipped to the index.
"In there?" Albus asked.
"Yup."
Albus grinned, his excitement returning. It was time to find out what Ares was up to. He watched as Scorpius flipped to one of the last pages of the book.
"It's in the section 'Accolades and Accomplishments.' Wow this is one of the last pages."
"Well read it!" Albus said excitedly.
"Calm down!" Scorpius snapped. "Let me find it! Okay, here we go. Last paragraph on the page. 'Despite his untimely death, the success of Vesnovitch lasted long after the famous researcher's passing. His studying of dragons in his homeland of Russia has become the basis of what is studied by dragon researchers today, and in 1754 he was posthumously awarded with the Order of Merlin, second class for his breakthroughs in female dragon behavior and the discovery that their diet was the source of their flame-creating abilities. His daughter later went on to become a researcher of moderate success, becoming the first researcher to successfully breed Ukrainian Ironbelly in captivity.
"His many contributions were also met with rumors of many famous inventions and discoveries, including, but not limited to, the discovery of the properties of dragon blood (not to be confused with the twelve uses discovered by Albus Dumbledore), powdered dragon's claw (said to stimulate brain activity), and the Dragonfang wand, a wand personally forged from the fang of a rare Antipodean Opaleye that had been cursed with numerous magical maladies. The wand was said to have numerous abilities, the most known of which is its ability to unlock the hidden potential within the wizard who uses it."
Scorpius stopped reading there. He turned the page. "And that's it" he said dryly. "Fascinating."
"What do you mean that's it? It was only mentioned once?" Albus asked, getting angrier by the second.
"Yup. That's it. Index only shows this page and there's a picture on the next one."
Albus mouthed wordlessly. "How can they only mention it once, it's an biography. A wand that does potential and stuff, there has to be more!"
Scorpius skimmed over the page once more. "Wait, there's a footnote next to it! Let's see...let's see. Ahh here we go. 'Wand's existence has been disproven'."
Albus jaw dropped. Morrison burst out laughing. "Here that Al? You're scared of something that doesn't exist!"
Albus ignored him and almost collapsed. He felt wobbly, and he had a headache. He needed to sit down. He turned around and saw a chair that had not been there a moment earlier. He sat in it and heaved a sigh.
"Doesn't exist?" he asked to no one in particular. "But Ares has it. How is that possible?"
Scorpius closed the book and sat down in a much less comfortable looking chair that had appeared. "Maybe...Ares is lying. Telling people he has it? I mean, it intimidates them doesn't it? My grandad was intimidated anyway..."
"Or maybe nothing's going on, and you're both mental" Morrison said.
Albus was still deep in thought. "No, the wand is real" he said defiantly. "Look, somehow, that bloke Chekov got a hold of it. He was hidden right? So was the wand! Erased from the history books. Or maybe never even written in it. Ares found out about it somehow, had someone kill the guy and get him the wand, and now he's using it for something, something bad, and people are joining him in the Forest because he has it. So my dad was right about there being a leak in the Ministry, and Darvy's right about following him, and I'm right about the wand!".
"So tell Darvy" Scorpius said.
"I can't, I already told him I knew nothing about that wandmaker, he'd know that I was lying before."
"Tell your dad" Morrison suggested.
"Can't, if I go off accusing people at his job of being double crossers and I'm wrong, I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do. And he's working enough as it is." Even as he said it, the image of his father's gray tinged face and tired, droopy eyes swam in his thoughts. He would not make things worse for his father, that much he was sure of.
"So...do nothing?" both of his friends asked him.
"No, I have a plan. I'm going to find out who ratted that wandmaker out, get proof, link it to Ares, and then have the Ministry interfere. This way my dad doesn't have to do anything but throw him back in Azkaban."
His two friends exchanged a look. Morrison heaved a sigh. "Don't ask me how I know, but I don't think this is going to end well."