The Crossroads of Fate

Chapter 36: The Final Destination

Albus found himself in a very strange place. He somehow knew what the place was without asking anyone. Not that there was anybody to ask. He stood alone. The environment was very peaceful and white. Very white. It looked like nothingness. Albus might have thought himself dead if he did not feel himself as a being to begin with. So… why did he feel dead then? The place was nothingness, it was just… white. Nothing but white. Apollo had insisted that something would happen, that death was his friend, that it would embrace him so why? Why? What was this? Was he missing something? He looked around curiously and as curiosity took over, the whiteness started taking form.

He stood at a crossroads. The Crossroads of Fate. But these were different. They were actually formed. It was no longer metaphorical but very real. Or was it real? This was a very unfamiliar place. Something told Albus this was happening only in his own head. Perhaps he was trapped in his own head. Was this what happened when people died? Did they become entrapped in their own heads? The crossroads took more form. Albus stood on a single road that diverged into three different paths. On either side of any road was grass. The grass off the road to the left had lilies and the grass on the road to the right had roses. Why flowers were growing inside his head, Albus did not know.

The road in front led to a host of pictures, moving pictures with babies and children that looked familiar, and pictures of his mother and father. The other two roads led to a different point. A giant serpent rested at the end of the road of lilies. The other road of roses had a giant lion sitting on the end of it. Both gazed at Albus expectantly but none made a noise. Albus felt a rush of longing towards the lion, something in it was drawing him in but he stayed put. He fixed his eyes on the lilies, thinking they looked beautiful when they were left alone. The roads of the lion and the serpent presented themselves before Albus and he blew out a small sigh, not sure why, if he was dead, he was still breathing. Perhaps he was not dead yet. Perhaps something else was afoot. Admittedly, he was not sure what it could be.

"Adventure," a small, familiar voice said. Walking up to stand beside Albus was Apollo L. Kimble. "The best adventures are unknown, when you do not know what can happen. They're nice to take. Unfortunately, my life is not an adventure. Your life, maybe. Not mine."

"Are- are you…"

"Dead? No. I don't think so," Apollo said, sitting in the middle. "I am injured grievously. An Acromantula bit me and I fell in Aries' arms. They were seeking some sort of retribution for their commitment. I would've died but Lancet could suck the venom out and the vampires on our side got rid of the rest. I was quite prepared too. Lancet saved me."

"Sorry," Albus sighed, feeling weird expressing empathy for Apollo's life.

"I wouldn't have minded either way," Apollo said neutrally. "But I'll have to leave this place soon. The living do not belong on the Crossroads of Fate. They can only take unseen roads with unknown destinations. The dead take the roads where the destination is clear. You go back… or you move on." He stopped and looked at Albus. It seemed strange, surreal and yet quite pure talking to a child in this place. Apollo smiled, "I envy you if you die."

"I'm trapped in my own head, aren't I?" Albus asked.

"Yes and no," Apollo said calmly. "I'm trapped in my own head all the time, at least you and everyone else has a way out."

"So, what were my crossroads?" Albus asked. "For real now. No riddles."

"Everyone has crossroads," Apollo began. "Yours were difficult. One path is poison and leads to death, one path is benign and leads to life. You had to choose whether to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, or keep yourself alive. You were offered many ways to get rid of your soul and you chose the less destructive way. It led you to death, but the road to death diverged into another fork. Had you chosen to sacrifice yourself before the battle, the Minister would've used the Orb and increased his own power like Dubium did. Now, at least, you have weakened him in a way he cannot recover. At least, not just yet. You value life too much to be among the dead just yet and so, your end was clear."

"So… I'm not dead?" Albus asked.

"That's up to you," Apollo told him. "You have the free will to choose whatever you want. You can even go back." Apollo looked around. Albus was not sure if he was seeing the same setting as Apollo was, but in the end, Apollo turned his silvery eyes back to Albus. "You made the right choice. Had you chosen to give your life sooner, very, very bad things would've happened."

"What sort of"-

"I can't tell you," Apollo said. "But it would've been horrible. And… you should be very grateful it did not happen that way."

"Wou-would we have lost?"

"No… but… it's still a bad future," Apollo said, eyes shaking a little bit. "It's gone now. Don't worry about it. But… your Crossroads, you've picked the destructive path."

"How?"

"Had you chosen to go all-out in the soul battle," Apollo said quietly. "And had you fought as my ancestor instructed you to, Incommodo would've been defeated much quicker and the Reservation would've been destroyed sooner with minimal loss of life. Why did you choose that?"

Apollo seemed genuinely curious. Albus sighed, "I couldn't leave. I couldn't leave Alexis, or Lily, or my friends. I stayed for them."

Apollo did not reprimand or question, he just nodded, "The same reason I stayed. Aries. We're selfish people, you and I."

"If I knew the battle could've gone better, I might've chosen death," Albus muttered. Apollo did not answer. He was walking back the way they came when Albus turned, "Apollo," he called back. The boy was fading slightly. "Thank you."

Apollo's expression was neutral as he said, "I would not have lived if you did not speak to me. Thank you." And with those words he walked away. Albus was not sure where he went, he was still in limbo, he just went down a road, perhaps only Apollo could see. So, that was where Albus was. He knew now where he ended up. He remembered a note Harry had written to him a long time ago, in fourth year. It was the last note he sent.

"Death: 'Death is but the next great adventure.' Albus Dumbledore. Your namesake. No one knows precisely what happens when you die but I believe, you are faced with a choice, standing at a gateway. You can either decide to go back, and you will reenter the world as a spirit form, a ghost, or you go on and die. I found myself at Kings Cross, and I went back. For me, I came back physical and solid, because the love I possessed from my mother allowed it to happen. You won't have that luck. If I had decided to die for real, I would've been 'boarding a train.'

Most people decide to move on, and take the next adventure. I will move on. Your choice is entirely up to you, but if I know you, you'll move on too, like me, and I'll be waiting for you with open arms."

Albus might soon discover for real. What would happen when he moved on? Was Apollo right? Or was what Apollo saw in his vision of death simply this place? Would Albus go back as a physical, solid being due to Seth and Alchemy? Well, unlike Apollo, Albus did not find himself able to go back. He felt like there was an impenetrable barrier separating him from whatever was behind him. For that time at least, there were three choices. His memories, Slytherin and the life he knew, or Gryffindor and the life he knew little of? Would he move on or go back as a ghost? Or would he simply live in the past? From here on, it was a choice between the lion and the serpent.

The choice was easy. Albus placed his hand in his pockets, thinking sadly of the lilies on the side of the serpent. Lily will have lost her brother. But it was ok. She was alive enough to feel upset. Albus would join the roses now. He walked for the path of the lion. Just before he stepped foot on the road leading to it, the lion opened his mouth and let out a roar. The roar spat out two people. Albus stepped back, stepped back further. He could not believe who had appeared to him but there they were. His namesakes, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

The two did not speak much. Dumbledore gave him a twinkling smile and Snape just acknowledged his surname. "Your road will be known soon," Dumbledore said with a benign smile.

"Where did you come from?" Albus asked, and then thinking he might have sounded disrespectful, he added, "Sirs?"

"That's hardly any of the living's concern, isn't it, Potter?" Snape said through curtains of black greasy hair. "You will wait while your elders wish to speak to you. If that is so hard, you should never have chosen your path."

Before Albus could respond, the lion spat out more people. So many people were spat out, Albus felt rather strange. Albus found it hard to believe that many could fit in that one lion. He stepped back further as Dumbledore and Snape disappeared. A horde of people came up to greet him. Some of those people hugged him, some just pat his back, some of them smiled, and others just folded their arms or leaned against a staff and watched on. Their ages were ranging too, as in life he had friends ranging from different ages, so the same appeared in death. He knew who they all were, even without knowing how he knew.

The first to appear were Harriet and Barbara Wallader, one with blonde hair just like Mark's and another with red hair reminding Albus of the Wallaby twins. The little girl named Emily Hill who had died before his fourth year actually hugged him, Hagrid embraced him tightly, but Walter and Molly just smiled and pat his back nothing more needing to be said between the friends. Even Lucius Malfoy was there watching wordlessly, Samantha stood beside Walter, looking as happy and as homey as she once looked in life, smiling all over, no hint of madness or insanity in her eyes and Lycah, looking happier than ever folded her arms with a strange smile on her face. The recent deaths were there too. Albus got to meeting Rose, Morpheus, Fora, and Riley, the latter grinning as widely as the next entrant. Albus hugged his brother tightly, tearing slightly as he embraced him. After James appeared, those who taught him appeared last of all. Professors Phoenix, Redgrow, Ackerly, Vulneroman and Era, and Otto Blackberry appeared, Rolf, Professor Ernie Macmillan, Theodore Nott, Draco and Astoria Malfoy and Marius Kimble. Albus met them all.

How? He was not dead. Apollo made that clear. So why were they meeting him? What was the worth? "Trust me, I'm wondering the same thing," Draco said sardonically. He turned to Astoria, "Why is it always the Potters?"

"Because they're more suicidal," Astoria suggested.

"They don't listen to school rules prohibiting them from seeking harm unto themselves," Era added.

"Try heroic and mad all at once," Phoenix said. "It's a mixture of factors really. One Potter fights a losing fight to protect his wife and son, another accepts death to protect the school and his son dies to save the world."

"In a manner of speaking," Ackerly shrugged. "Something always manages to save them. I was there when Harry Potter whipped his cloak and fought the Dark Lord."

"We all were," Theodore Nott recalled. "Some of us were more active than others."

"Many of us fighting for our own causes, however," Redgrow acknowledged.

"And in the end, we all died," Vulneroman said in his booming voice.

"Of course," Marius agreed. "It is the next generation that takes charge. My son, my daughter… our time had ended."

"Our fight against Incommodo sealed that in stone," Ernie said. "I am only sorry my son has to grow up without parents or a brother or a sister. His life is likely to be very difficult."

"My fight against Incommodo proved it," Fora sighed.

"As did mine," Otto said with wide eyes. "He was very powerful."

"Both were powerful," Rolf added.

"And unfortunately, it took some of our generation off too," Rose said sadly. "Now my brother grows without a sister."

"And only half a mind," Lycah quipped. "Hey," she added as Rose shot her a look. "It can be dealt with."

"Look on the bright side, it could've been worse for him, at least he has his mind," Samantha said sadly.

"It's just something that has to be lived with," Riley said lazily.

"So, you've been quiet so far, Potter," Barbara Wallaby said. "Anything to say?"

Albus did not know what to say. Could an apology cut it? It was his fault for some of them. They died because of him. Had he given his life sooner, Riley, Morpheus, and Fora might have been saved. This was not normal. This was not supposed to have happened. Rose had died, Fora, even Morpheus had died, James had given his life, Hagrid was the first to go, and Albus still felt regret looking at Walter and Molly. And Harriet's death had set Mark off on a tragic path as well. Albus wished so much he could do something for them, not for those who lived. But there was nothing. It was useless now. So, were they ok? Was it truly happening in his head? These were the products of the deaths that had an impact on Albus' life.

"I'm sorry," he sighed lamely. "I'm not at fault for all of this but I'm still sorry. It- it could've gone better. I know you'll say it's not my fault but for some of you, it is. I could've finished it sooner, I could've saved some, I could've… I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Ah, well, no one r'ly means for this stuff teh happen," Hagrid growled. "They just do and it's our job teh fight it. Is what Dumbledore always said. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Now, I just have one request, Al," Samantha said calmly, speaking calmly and clearly, concisely. "I am not asking for forgiveness but… don't give the Mold Manor to Seth or Simon."

"I won't," Albus promised. "If I live…"

"Which you will," Morpheus interrupted.

"If I live, I won't give it to him," Albus agreed.

"Give it to Neil," James suggested.

"Correction, if Neil gets with Sierra like they both know they want to, it'll end up going to her too," Albus warned her.

"I don't care about Sierra, just not Seth," Samantha insisted. "People should not kill each other for their houses and homes. That is evil."

"May I suggest something better?" Walter asked quietly. "It's a big place. Refurbish it. Make it into a magical orphanage or something. Many people were orphaned in the war, it's better for all of them if they at least know they have a place to go. And let that be my last act of kindness, a bit of my effort from beyond the grave."

"And this way, Pierre, Neil, Simon, Sophie, Alpha, Proxima, Seth, Sierra, and the plenty of other Muggle-borns the Reservation might've caught will have a place to go to," Molly added. "I agree," she said, throwing a smile at Walter."

"And make sure everything stays the way it's supposed to be," the little girl said quietly, in a voice as small as her body. "Don't let something like this happen again. I only knew the Wizarding world so little, for two weeks of my short life. I don't want anyone else to meet the same fate I did."

"Now, before I go, just take one message from me," Morpheus said in a short voice. "Tell Melvin that I love him, and that I am fine. I'm happy where I am now. I have found my true calling."

"What'll that be?" Albus asked.

"Death. And I guess I deserve it too," Morpheus sighed. "Melvin has a better life than I would've had."

"You didn't really have a choice," Harriet said sadly. "Few of us did. Enjoy yourself. Everyone is bound to our plane eventually. Your brother is no different."

Albus bade them all goodbye as they disappeared back into the lion, which proceeded to eat them all at once. There was something in there they were not saying, something Albus was not yet meant to know. And their silence meant that Albus was not about to find about. He was still alive. Not all of them left though. Most of them did but in the end, only James, Harriet and Dumbledore were left. Those three, Albus would talk to one on one. Perhaps that was the main reason he was still trapped in his head. He had internal issues to deal with before he could go on living.

"Mr. Wallader," Albus said suddenly, catching the man's attention. "I have a question."

"Fire away, my boy," Harriet said genially. "Come."

The two took a walk on the third road, the landscape forming itself as they walked. Cherry blossoms formed, meadows with children playing, one of whom was Albus' child form. Memories. They were his memories. He was distracted for a bit looking at them. Albus was kissing a young girl by the river in Godric's Hollow, he was prancing around with Lysander in the Lovegood garden, his form grew up and he was speaking to an older Lysander at the top of Lovegood tower. He saw Mark. Mark yelling at Albus, Mark ranting, degrading him, destroying whatever was left of his self esteem. He was so hateful, so easily angered, and so stubborn. Mark was perhaps the most hateful person Albus had met. And he loved him dearly.

He saw Alexis. Twelve year-old Alexis talking to him, thirteen year-old Alexis leading his mind into asking her out, fourteen year-old Alexis distancing herself from him, fifteen year-old Alexis keeping him sane as he tried rescuing his father, sixteen year-old Alexis breaking it off with him over her brother, and adult Alexis… adult Alexis dead, Alexis hugging her brother, Alexis dueling Incommodo, Alexis sobbing. He watched his own memories of Alexis mature. Pigtails. She used to wear her hair in pigtails when she was twelve and thirteen. When she was fourteen, she tied her hair to the side. Just one ponytail to her right. Albus never really realized fully. He was too busy thinking how much he relied on her but she really was beautiful. Sometimes, Albus would wish that Alexis was another sister of his but now- now he was happy just the way it was. If she was his sister, he could not marry her. And if he reentered the world of the living, he was going to bend down and propose.

And James. He saw James. Little James, six years old, standing at his doorway, glaring as the cloth strangled Albus. Seven year-old James refusing to even talk to Albus and Albus crying in a corner while Lily and Harry tried to comfort him. Albus recovering with the Scamander twins in Lovegood tower once the healer said it was his brother's presence that scared Albus from sleeping comfortably. And Albus ultimately getting his own room. And losing half that room to a boy he hated and loved all at once. He saw James mature, pull pranks, wide grin on his face… and then he disappeared. That James fell dead to the floor as a new James took his place. A more serious James, a James who refused to prank anyone, a James with his arm around Neil Nott, a boy sobbing into his chest as James tried calming him down.

And Albus did see Neil. A Neil who stole quietly into a room with nobody looking, nicked a stack of parchments, and left, rolling them up carefully to give to James. A Neil who looked quiet. Then, there was a Neil who sat alone on a bed, gazing at himself, his own hands, a picture of James, sobbing over it. Finally, there came a Neil whose issues came to the forefront when James died, and when he opened up to Albus. That Neil took a stone curiously, turned it over, he looked confused. The confusion slowly morphed into something he had never experienced before. Hope. He was sitting alone in a corner with Sierra. And slowly, his form morphed into a wolf. A small wolf, like a cub, but a wolf nonetheless.

Albus felt terrible. All those memories. Some of them what he saw and remembered and some of them he was simply told and imagined them in his mind's eye. Mark crying over his parents, Soto abducting Adam to provoke the Ministry to send the exchange students away, Dubium meeting them and cursing them for the first time, Soto holding Lily and Alexis hostage at a dinner table, Incommodo killing Walter and the remains of Fiendfyre burning Molly's life away, Alexis laying with eyes half open beside her lifeless brother, Albus' change of Patronus, and the horrors he suffered later. Rose dead, Fora dead, Riley dead, and Morpheus dead.

"Are you done looking through your memories?" Harriet asked calmly.

"Yeah," Albus whispered. "Is this normal, when you die?"

"Yes and no," Harriet said. "It is normal for those who lived based off their past. They lived for others. Is there something troubling you?"

Albus' memories showed him Mark yelling at him again, and Albus said, "Your son is in a really bad place right now."

"Mark…" Harriet said. "My son has a very fragile mentality. It is very easy to snap it and very difficult to reform, if not borderline impossible. Mark, as I am sure you realized, takes death very hard. He is not used to the concept and understands it very little. When Barbara and I died, his mind had snapped. He kept himself together by the support of his cousins and a new friend he made. Yourself. And he used you as support for when Hagrid died. But people grow up, Albus, and you went down a different path than he did. He could no longer lean on you and in time, he lost his best friend. That is why he collapsed. And before he was allowed time enough to recover, he lost his foster brother, he may have lost a childhood friend, he finds love for himself and then he could lose his closest friend, you. Given time, he may go back to the way he was. Of course, this recovery may prove to be impossible and very few people in the world know how to really talk to him. Unfortunately, Albus Potter, you are not one of them."

"I apologize for failing," Albus muttered.

"It is hardly your fault," Harriet insisted. "Had I lived, I may have failed too. Barbara might have failed. Precious few can manage and of those few, even fewer are still alive. Ironically, Mark may find to his shock one day that his true calling is no longer in life, but in death. Given time, he will learn to make peace with his fate and when he does, he will meet it."

"Does that mean an early death?" Albus asked. "Even for him?"

"Not necessarily," Harriet shook his head. "Everyone must make peace with their fate before it is their time to go. Whenever he does die, whether it is old or young, I will be waiting for him."

"I hope he lives a long life," Albus said sadly as they reached the crossroads again. "He deserves a life as long as possible."

"Who doesn't?" Harriet asked with a small smile before turning and heading back into Gryffindor's lion.

Albus was left there, at the crossroads with James now. There were so many words unsaid between them. He did not know what to say first. He was sorry? He did what he asked? Did he even? Did he succeed? James folded his arms and regarded him with a small smirk, "Al."

"I miss you," Albus said lamely.

"I apologize for being a bully," James said, also lamely.

"I apologize for doubting you," Albus said quietly. "And letting my history get in the way…"

"Hey, it doesn't matter," James laughed. "Social enemies, remember? We would've grown up eventually. Somehow. I grew up sooner than I expected. Neil sort of does that to you."

"I tried doing what you asked," Albus said, unsure of where to go from there. "Neil is a very difficult person to help."

"You and I did our best," James told him. "It's up to him. It always was. He may yet grow into a fine person."

"Werewolf though," Albus said pointedly.

"Ah, don't be too worried," James waved off. "Werewolf actually suits him. Seclusion is justified now, and he has an outlet for his inner anger, but he'll also be stronger, more in tune with himself, and I guess, ironically, it may benefit him. Only time will tell though. I was never a seer."

"Me neither, Apollo is though," Albus recalled. "And Neil is in danger."

"Well, give him a few years, make sure he has a place to call home," James told him.

"There're a lot of things I have to make sure of, aren't there?" Albus asked. Seriously, magical orphanage, look after Neil, and save Seth from imprisonment if he was even still alive. Some of these things were beyond Albus' power. "I'm not Minister, you know. And I never will be."

"You'd make a good one," James told him. "If you got over your irrational fright of talking to loads of people. But I dunno… maybe you need people around you. Do whatever you think is right. I can't dictate your life, I'm dead, remember?"

"I remember," Albus said. "Why'd you do it?"

"They needed a Potter dead," James said. "At least one. And I wanted to give you and Lily a chance to get away. And I did, didn't I? My death was not in vain. You and Lily are alive, heck, even Neil is better off than he was before. I reckon he was too attached to me. You did better than you give yourself credit for. Shouldn't have given that stone to Seth, though."

"Now, Seth is better than you give him credit for," Albus reminded him. "Dad would still be imprisoned if it wasn't for him"-

"And his extreme measures," James added. "Which leads me to remind you before we part. Dad is better than you gave him credit for. Turns out his plan pulled through and if they did not turn on Incommodo and force him into a new body with one soul, things may've gone worse."

Albus shut himself up. He looked at James sadly, knowing this was the end. After this, he would never see James again. He gave his older brother one last hug, allowing himself to cry over his shoulder, preparing himself for real. This would not be the last time he loses someone dear to him. As Albus would grow older, so would his friends and family and- as Apollo said- death knew no age. He may well lose some, and ultimately, some will lose him. Albus may lose Mark one day and Alexis may yet lose Albus. So many futures were possible, so many. Only Apollo knew them all and even he did not know which roads they would take. After all, he thought Albus would die. It seemed even that boy had an adventure ahead too. And his adventure would be discovering it for himself.

James pat Albus on the shoulder one last time before walking down the road he came. This sad existence Albus was in was beginning to lose form. Less and less people were there. Now, only two remained. Dumbledore was still standing quietly. "I guess it's over, isn't it?" Albus sighed. "So… am I dead? Do I also choose to go back as a ghost or move on into whatever comes next? Am I truly dead? Or do I continue living?"

"It is our choices that make us who we truly are," Dumbledore told him in a low voice. "And what we are. I believe you yourself already know the answer. You've seen your own memories? What do they tell you?"

Albus looked back off the roads at his own memories. Ghosts from the past and with them, ghosts of the future, things that had not yet come to pass. Chief among them was his younger brother running around him, and beside him… Alexis Ackerly. They were standing together, arm in arm, hands clasped around each other and kids. Children. His children. Albus knew now where he belonged. Sorry, James. Our reunion will have to wait. Albus turned back to Dumbledore. "So… I was right then. This is definitely all in my head. I'm really just talking to me, myself and I."

"Albus Severus Potter, my dear boy, of course it's in your head," Dumbledore said, giving one final smile before turning away. "But that by no account means that it is not real. Your father heard those same lines from me and always remember them for yourself. That which is in your head is not always just your head. I believe, once again, it is your choice."

"So… how am I alive, then?" Albus asked, not getting it at all.

It was as if he was waiting for the question to be asked. Apollo arrived from the memory field, waking casually but his eyes a little more relaxed than he had ever seen them. "When you had the Rune drawn, I knew you would live. Had you stayed as is and gone without the Rune, you would have died very quickly. I guess, since the Dark Lord was always unable to move on into the next world, when he was affected by the Rune you drew, you would be unable to move on as well. Plus, his soul was rejected and pushed out by the Orb Maria turned. That is what ultimately saved you. Runes are only ever for one-time use though. Your sacrifice weakened Incommodo and allowed you to live, but neither of you are capable of moving just now. The next you meet him, he will be Herpo. Ink is gone. You allowed for that to happen. So… you may yet get to live. There is one more thing you must undertake."

"What's that?"

"Another soul battle," Apollo stated as he began fading, presumably back into the world of the living. "You two are bound. Either you both move on, or you both stay put. The Rune's connection must break."

Hogwarts grounds…

"Beautiful," Albus would say, staring lovingly at the smiling child being held in his arms. She would have his eyes. Albus would then lower the child to the level of a small boy of around six or seven. "Meet your nephew, Lucas."

"I'm an Uncle?" the boy will say, aghast at the news. "Al, our family is very weird."

"Ah, well, it can happen."

The vision changed.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Apollo will say quietly to which Lysander would repeat with a genuine, yet somewhat soft, quirky voice. Beside him, his wolf would prowl around the castle, sniffing students and scamper up to his master with forbidden items nicked from pockets. "This castle is home to everyone who loves it, help is given to those who simply ask, and advice is given to those who crave. Before we immerse ourselves in the feast, it is important we go through our start of term notices for the first years to take note of. The forest off the hut is absolutely and expressly forbidden to all students and teachers. The village of Hogsmeade is also forbidden to all those below third year. Our caretaker, Florence Kettle, would also like to warn everyone against using magic in the corridors, and to refrain of using any type of fireworks unless it is outside. All items from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are forbidden, all items from Zonko's Joke Shop are forbidden, and all items from Dr. Fillibuster are forbidden under punishment of detention and possibly suspension should the limits be tested. I would also like to welcome Professor Lancet Goal as Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher who had consented to remain for a few years until a more suitable one can be found. Quidditch tryouts will be held Saturday, first weekend of term, and those interested should consult their Head of House. And remember: Pay attention to flying lessons for those truly exceptional are granted their own broomstick, pay attention to Dueling class for those exceptional are granted special permission to duel the American champion one on one this summer, and pay attention to the ghosts. Each and every one of them have their own stories to those interested in learning about life beyond your own. Let the feast commence."

Apollo woke up, eyes fluttering open quickly. Ah… he was still alive. He felt his own heartbeat but that was not what made him feel at home. Just as he foresaw, he was nestled against Aries' chest. It was heaving up and down, her arms embracing him tightly, lovingly. Slowly, Apollo wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into her chest.

However, regardless of their sentimental moments, more events were happening. Dubium was gaining the upper hand now Incommodo was going through a drastic, painful, physical change. Alex barely managed to shield Mark from a jet of green light. Mark had fallen over as Albus had. He was alive but he was not capable of fighting. Laura had arrived too, to try and help. Meanwhile, Dementors were all over the place. Now many Patronuses were gone, they were not repelled as easily. Seth was stopped as a dozen came for him. He did not expect this. No. The Dementors descended on him. He turned to run back in to Hogwarts but they caught up to him. No. No. NO!

He collapsed down. What was this? These were not his memories. Not at all. "No, no, not Walter. Please not Walter." Whose was that voice? Was that Malcolm? Then, he heard something like Samantha's voice, screaming in indefinable scream. Screaming for her family and her lost possession. "How is that freak still alive? How did they let him walk free? How did Neil let him walk free? Why didn't he tell? Why didn't Seth get locked up? HOW DARE HE?"

Seth crouched down, covering his mouth. Was this emotion? Was this what Albus and Simon called emotion? What was he seeing? This was not a traumatic memory of his. He had no traumatic memories.

"I was drunk. I was drunk. I'm not responsible. It was a bad night, I swear. It was a bad night. I didn't mean to. I didn't… NOOOOO!"

"He did not care, Albus' voice said to himself. "He did not care about anything. He was twelve years old, still a preteen child but he was… there was no other word for it, a sociopath."

"I was wrong," Albus' voice said again. "This is unusual. He's screaming, he's emotional, he's crying and all for Simon. He-he actually cares. He truly cares. Is this the same boy who murdered Malcolm in cold blood?"

No. No. Albus did not understand. He could not. Seth did not murder him in cold blood. The curse on Simon would weaken if Malcolm died. Seth saved Simon's life and as far as he was concerned, Simon was a better person than Malcolm. Whoever thought Malcolm deserved to live truly had no heart. So, did Seth even care about hearts?

"My son, my ungrateful swine of a son dares to command me. Dead I might be, he will not command me. Not me, not I who gave birth and raised that insignificant speck of a child!"

What was most painful was hearing those he knew and loved the most. Love? Love? Was this the love Albus talked about? He could have it. It was painful. It was evil. Why was it causing so much pain. He felt scabbed hands take him forcefully up, try to expose his clamped mouth but he could not resist. Seth could never cast a Patronus. He was brilliant but a Patronus was hard. He did not have the emotion of happiness to cast anything like it. What was this?

"I love him! Why doesn't he see it?" Sierra's voice cried, sobbed to herself, probably inside in a place Seth could never see. "I am devoted to him, he's my brother, and he- I would walk through the depths of hell by his side. Why am I just an object to him?"

"I always wanted to make people happy. I never failed but now… he's hard. I can never get a smile from him. I love him so much," Sophie's pitiful voice muttered to herself. "He means the world to me. Why is he so cruel? Why so pointlessly cruel? Why doesn't he care? Why do I have to fall in love with the one person who doesn't notice my existence?"

"He's my friend. My best friend. Why- why did he murder on my behalf?" Simon asked himself. "How could I have been so stupid? He never cared. People love him and he doesn't care. Al begs him and he turns away. He watched Hogsmeade burn and he didn't care. How could anyone think I'd want a house founded on blood? So… why don't I hate him?"

"I need my sister," Albus' voice muttered. "My brother. Seth screamed into my shoulders over Simon but he just doesn't care. He loves his sister but he won't admit it to himself. He's sick. Nobody else gets this about him but he truly is sick…

Was he really sick? Did he really, truly, lack all sense of emotion? Was this an ignorance of the concept of love or did he seriously not feel it? No, he did feel it. He saw it. Seth would go insane if anything happened to Simon or Sierra, he begged for her safety. He begged Samantha. He was just ignorant. He did not recognize love.

He did not recognize love…

"I wonder if he will ever realize how I feel about him," Maria's voice wondered. "I could grant him so much more than any other girl on this planet. Sad, he only thinks of his friend. I guess… I'm not worthy."

Not worthy…

"I do not hate Seth," Albus' voice said again, clearer than ever. "I pity him. A boy raised without feeling, emotion, ethics or morals, not even a conscience. He just has a redemption, two people in the world who bring his humanity out. One loves him regardless of what he does and the other is now beginning to realize what sort of person he made friends with. The truth is, Seth is a monster. And he is sick.

Sick…

Seth burst into tears as the Dementor clamped its mouth around his. What was this he was feeling? Was this their emotions? Was this remorse on his part? How could he feel remorse? He was not supposed to feel remorse! How fitting, the one boy without a soul would lose his forever. "NO!" he screamed into its mouth. He tried pushing it away but he could not. There was no one to help him. He would die alone. Just as he saw himself dying. No Simon. No Sierra. No Sophie. No Albus. He'd just be empty and in a few years, dead. He felt something in him move, something being forced out. He felt his vision blur. He felt his mind wrecking itself, for a second he could not even remember who he was thinking about the minute before. Then…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Seth was let go, something in him let free but still hurt, still damaged somehow. It was reforming itself. Seth saw his friend attacking with a spider monkey, saw him running around, having it guard Seth with its life. Simon stood in front of him and that was the last thing Seth saw. He could barely keep himself awake, he tried, he really did, wanted to reach out, to say something to him, but he couldn't. Not this time. He rolled over and stared up at the sky, his mind running through everything he had seen. He had no emotion, no trauma, nothing to use against him, so he was given the emotions of his victims instead. There was no escaping a Dementor's power. He shut his eyes, falling into darkness.