Chapter 10: Secret Potions and Passages
Albus awkwardly patted Will's back as his friend heaved into the empty goblet. The smell of acid and eggs hit Albus like a bludger. Biting his lip, he watched as the Lightstorm twins slid between him and Will and mixed a variety of drinks together, promising to combat the vomiting. Unlike the Lightstorms, the majority of the Gryffindor table had hardly noticed his friend's abrupt illness. The Great Hall's attention remained engrossed in watching Sköll Grayback take her seat amongst the quaking table of first-year Hufflepuffs, teeth barred in what could be a smile but looked more like a threat. The girl's eyes blazed in triumph. Albus shivered.
Turning his attention back to the Lightstorms, he found steam wafting from a glass of turquoise goo. Bubbling chunks of orange assaulted his olfactory system. sickly sweet and overbearingly minty.
Will had finally stopped heaving, breath steadying. His eyes drained and blank. Albus couldn't imagine the shock his friend must be experiencing, having witnessed a friend die from a werewolf attack, and now having a werewolf attend his school. A part of him couldn't help but wonder if Grayback had been loose in the school this morning, if she'd been the reason behind the attack on his cousin.
Werewolves, in general, were usually looked on with a degree of fear and mistrust within the wizarding community. Aunt Hermione had made it her cause to change that sentiment. He'd always admired her, championing the rights of magical beings and her determination to better the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Albus felt his heart sink, recalling some of the horrific stories Aunt Hermione had told him about the lives and struggles of magical beings and creatures. Tales from Teddy's deceased werewolf father, who'd struggled repeatedly to land a job and find decent housing, despite excelling in his studies at Hogwarts.
Fenrir Grayback was an entirely different matter altogether. Albus had overheard enough conversations between his parents about the werewolf his father had devoted his career to tracking down, on top of trying to convince the ministry that the notorious criminal remained alive.
A daughter of Fenrir Grayback at Hogwarts; that changed the entire game. Albus couldn't imagine what his dad wouldn't give to speak to Sköll Grayback.
"Go on, drink up now." Harvey's edged the gurgling brew closer to Will. "Our dear old Auntie Hippolyta is a Potioneer. We've watched her brew many a summer."
"We're practically Potioneers ourselves now!" Malcolm exclaimed, nudging the glass over another fraction of an inch.
Will met his eyes for a millisecond and shrugged, face still a light mix of gray and green.
Oh no, you can't possibly.
Albus held his breath in disgust as Will drank long and deep, slamming the empty goblet down on the table in triumph after finishing the last drop. A few of the boys around him cheered while the girls made gagging noises. Albus was inclined to gag himself.
"How do you feel?" the twins leaned in, curiosity dancing in their eyes.
Will's eyes burned green and his skin glowed ghostly white. Whatever thoughts he had regarding werewolves and Grayback vanished while watching his friend gulp down the brew.
Is this a Gryffindor bravery test or something?
His friend waited a full minute before speaking, voice cracking, "honestly, not bad."
Albus bit his lip as the Lightstorms smiled and exchanged a congratulatory handshake.
Will's lips tinged bluer by the second as cyanosis set in, belying his words. "Actually, I feel great. Do you have any more? It's excellent!" Will gave the table a toothy grin.
Burt dipped his pinky finger in the remnants of the drink, sniffing and bringing the turquoise substance to his lips. He erupted into violent coughing. "What in the name of Merlin did you put in there?" Burt glared at the Lightstorms as they squirmed uncomfortably on the bench.
"Mostly just hot mint tea, a little pinch of the pumpkin soup, and… well…" Harvey sputtered.
On Godric's grave. No. The thought slammed into his mind before the guilt in the twins' eyes confirmed it. Idiots, please let it be something else. Anything else.
"You see, Harvey and I did some research this afternoon and we're pretty confident we already know what potion Slughorn gave us. It's most certainly Draught of Peace. We only added a drop or two," Malcolm muttered.
Albus groaned, running his fingers across his face.
"Um… your skin is turning blue," a first-year girl with sunburnt cheeks called to Will.
Ghost-pale, Will's veins prominently glowed flame-blue beneath his skin.
"Malcolm, go get Professor Slughorn. Harvey, help me take Will to the hospital wing," Albus threaded his arm under Will's shoulder, eyes boring into the Lightstorms. He jerked in surprise as bitter coldness bit into his arm.
"No need. Honestly, I've never felt better," Will croaked while swatting at his arm, lips pulled back in a thin, toothy smile. His voice sounded as hoarse as winter wind.
"Right, we're going anyway," Albus commanded.
He tucked the Lightstorms' glass into his satchel as Harvey helped Will to his feet. Please let Burt have the good sense to warn the prefects.
Barely anyone noticed their commotion as they tumbled their way out of the Great Hall. All eyes and whispers still concentrated on the Hufflepuff table.
By the time Madame Pomfrey ushered Will into a bed, despite his many protestations, his friend had been cold as snow. The cold hurt. His skin had turned red from where he'd made contact with Will. The head matron bombarded Harvey with intricate questions regarding the potion as he watched Will shiver, sweat glistened around his temples.
"My fine lady, we seem to be becoming well acquainted today, do we not?" Professor Slughorn strolled into the hospital room with a wink towards Madame Pomfrey, completely unharried.
"Professor, this is what Will drank," Albus cried out, nearly flinging the glass at Slughorn. "You gave the Lightstorms a potion earlier today for our class project. They thought it was Draught of Peace and slipped it into this glass of hot mint tea mixed with pumpkin soup."
"Pumpkin soup and hot mint tea? Why in Avalon?" Slughorn squeaked, rolling the glass between his fingers and squinting at the residue. "What a repulsive combination."
"Professor, the potion," Albus nearly shouted, hands clutched at his side. He winced as one of his knuckled popped. "What potion did you give Harvey and Malcolm Lightstorm?"
Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes as she bustled about Will, casting a series of diagnostic charms above his body. Harvey stood stock still in the corner of the room, eyes focused on his shoes.
"Well, I'll have to go back to my office… You can't expect me to remember what I assigned to everybody off the top of my head."
Albus felt ready to rattle the Slytherin headmaster and run down to the potion's office himself.
"I can certainly tell you this though..." Professor Slughorn's voice finally reflected the gravity of the situation as he took a step closer to Albus, a sent of moth balls and smoke clinging to his garish robes. "I didn't provide Draught of Peace to any of my students. Either way, combining the potion with other ingredients and altering the temperature may have created something else entirely. Smart thinking, lad, bringing me the cup. I may be able to analyze the residue."
Madame Pomfrey ushered Harvey and Albus out of the hospital wing to let her and Slughorn work without interruption. He'd seen enough of hospital wings in one day to last him a lifetime.
"Albus, wait!" Harvey called after him, voice echoing around the empty corridor. He didn't stop. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he stopped. He felt like walking. Maybe running. Possibly hitting something until his hands were numb. Anything to keep the sense of loss and helplessness at bay. " Albus, please! I'm so sorry."
Albus didn't stop walking, but he slowed, waiting for Lightstorm to catch up with him. "We honestly just thought it'd be a little bit of fun, you know? Drinking something icky. I don't know, that maybe it'd lighten the mood. Really, we thought that potion was Draught of Peace. Truly! And that it'd help. I've never seen a panic attack before. Malcolm and I, we just wanted to help. Joke around a little. It really was just to lighten the mood, you know?" Harvey sobbed, breath hitching every few syllables.
Albus' head spun. Well, look what good your help did! Your stupidity poisoned him. He's now a living icicle! Who knows what the side effects will be, if he'll even survive? You should be apologizing to him, not to me!
He bit his tongue sharply before his thoughts could escape his lips. Turning to face Harvey, he watched, oddly pacified to find tears streaming down the boy's long, ruddy nose, dripping down onto quivering lips.
Albus sighed, straightened his robes, and met Harvey's eyes. "Harvey, Madame Pomfrey saved my cousin earlier today. I'm sure she'll put Will to right too. I think Will was looking for a distraction anyways. He drank your brew knowing full well it'd be repuslive and likely make the lot of us laugh. Your heart was in the right place."
He spent a millisecond debating if more needed to be said. Just don't go pouring unknown potions into anyone's drinks again.
As soon as he decided any more words would be overkill, Albus felt Harvey's arms enveloped him in a quick, tight hug. A wave of surprise rushed over him.
"Oi! Albus?" The chipper voice of what could only be his brother echoed across the hall. "Interrupting something, am I?
Interrupting?
James was two years older and frequently enjoyed insinuating Godric-knows-what.
"Will's in the hospital wing, took a mystery brew," Albus clipped, monotone. James skipped over to him, sliding his arm through his own.
How his brother was able to change and process emotions as often as the wind blew had always confounded Albus. Today, particularly, gave him whiplash. How could his brother skip when they'd been at St. Mungo's just over an hour ago?
"Ah, Albus! Madame Pomfrey is an absolute legend. Will will be right as rain soon enough, just you wait!" James leaned closer to him, lightly pinching his cheek. "No time for that now though, come along with me."
James ushered him quickly down the hall, away from Harvey.
"Where are we going?" Albus barked, attempting to shake off his brother's arm, an entirely unsuccessful endeavor.
"Shh, hush now," Jame's whispered, brown eyes twinkling. "Hood up, Albus. Don't want the portraits to recognize us now do we."
James led him to a narrow, simple tapestry. A Celtic knot-work phoenix flapped its intertwined wings in greeting.
"Bow before the phoenix, and let only honest thoughts fill your mind," James whispered, hood obscuring his face as he bent low at the waist and remained down.
"Next change I get, I'm going to tell mum and dad you're up to something," Albus seethed through his teeth, bowing low nevertheless. His back ached from the position.
James let out a light, full-hearted laugh. "Indeed, you shall! For I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Albus sucked in cool breath of air as James tapped his wand on a blank piece of parchment, took hold of his hand, and led him directly through the tapestry and into a corridor devoid of light.
"Lumos." A faint blue light gleamed from James's holly wand. A series of swirls delicately bled across the parchment, transforming into a map. A variety of footprints and names appeared, trailing on and off the page. Albus squinted, finding his own name standing besides his brother's.
"No way," Albus gasped. "That can't be! James, tell me that's not Hogwarts. And that's not us, and everyone in Hogwarts?"
His heart raced. Was this map made of dark magic?
Certainly, an object that could track the whereabouts of anyone in a location as heavily warded as Hogwarts took powerful spellcasting. His parents were always worried about their home being found by enemies of the Aurors. If all it took to locate someone was a simple spell for a dark wizard to cast upon each city in England, when would they be found?
"This map is, indeed, of Hogwarts. Dad gave it to me for Christmas my first year here. It belonged to our grandfather and his friends. They called it the Maurader's Map," James smiled, only the corner of one cheek lifting up.
A pang of jealousy pierced Albus. Not only did his brother have a secret map, but he also knew all about his mother and father's life at Hogwarts? Swallowing twice, he pushed the hurt back into a corner of his heart.
"Alright, what is it?" James huffed, giving Albus one of his famous I'm-your-big-brother-I-know-you stares. "Thing is we can't actually go any further down this corridor if your words or thoughts are dishonest. Weird magic in the secret passage, huh? Now, spill your heart out."
Albus tried to lift his foot to walk further but found James was correct, his knees were currently locked. His heart skipped a beat with fright. Magic could be so unexpected sometimes.
Where were they even going? And what was this place?
"We do actually have someplace to be down this corridor. Only way though, this way. I haven't figured everything out about this passage yet, don't think anyone knows about it though. It's enchanted so you can only tell and think the truth. Otherwise, you can't walk down it," James prattled, wand held aloft only to alight a few yards ahead of the empty stone hallway.
What was his brother dragging him into?
"Alright, the truth then?" Albus seethed, grabbing his brother's arm and commanding his full gaze. "I'm jealous. Dead jealous that you have something of dad's and envious as Balthazar's right eye that our parents didn't lie or hide anything from you about who they actually are. You know what I found on the Hogwarts Express? A chocolate frog card with dad's face on it!"
"Yeah, that's partially my fault." James's smile faded and he rean a hand through his dark auburn hair several times, making it stick straight out like a knarl.
Albus didn't say anything and continued to watch his brother, knowing full well that silence always made James uncomfortable and lead to nervous chatter.
"I'd known they were famous for years," his brother whispered, suddenly very interested in looking at his feet, the floor, and anywhere but Albus' face. "When I was seven, I overheard Ms. Lovegood and mum talking in the garden. Just briefly. I didn't stay around for their whole conversation. What I heard was enough to give me nightmares for years though. For a long time, I refused to believe what I heard. Just pretended like I didn't know anything. Life was good on the lake, you know? Guess I was happy to be in denial. I didn't want things to change. I didn't know how to process what I'd heard either. I even began to wonder if I'd dreamt up that conversation."
James took a rattling breath, speech quickening, "Before I left for Hogwarts, mum and dad sat me down and explained that my classmates might treat me a little different. Or at least stare at me a little longer than normal. And not because I'm incredibly handsome and charming."
Ha! Keep talking. Albus didn't smile.
"So... they told me their story." James sighed, finally bringing his familiar brown eyes to meet his own.
"Honestly wish I hadn't known though, going into Hogwarts. I went from being just James to James the son of the great Harry Potter. From the moment I boarded the Hogwarts Express, everyone either wanted me to become their friend or make me their target, and I knew it was all because of who my dad was. I changed, felt like I had to act a part I'd never played. I become a different 'James.' It was exhausting. There were so many endless questions from everyone too. It seemed like everyone already knew more about mum and dad than I ever would anyway. Obviously gotten used to it now, but I truly wish I had continued to discover more of their secrets just naturally. Like you did even... with a chocolate frog card. No preparation, no planning, no expectation. Just surprise. I begged mum and dad to not tell you or Lily after they told me everything. Asked them to have you come to me once you were at Hogwarts and started hearing things. That way…" James choked, voice shaking.
Albus' mind reeled like a hurricane. His brother had taken away his right to a choice. His parents would've told him why they were famous. Why his dad had survived two killing curses. His heart broke at the thought of his dad dead. It was a constant fear, his dad simply not coming home from an Auror mission one day. To know his dad had already been killed twice and lived - that would haunt him.
"I didn't want their secret to seem like a big deal. I didn't want it to have to be something earth-shattering, the way it was for me," James whispered quickly, hands running through his locks every few seconds. "It changed me entirely. For a long time, I really didn't feel like myself."
Albus arched an eyebrow. Continue carefully, brother.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so livid. Maybe the time when Lily threw all the projects and inventions he'd been working on into the fire when he'd refused to take her to the secret fortress Rose and he had been building. Not even then.
"Enough," Albus snapped, taking a step closer to his brother. "Mum and dad are famous. War heroes or something. And dad died twice, and was brought back to life somehow."
He fisted his hands, nails digging into his palms. James flinched, stepping back a fraction of an inch. Albus had never hit his brother before, and he wasn't going to start now. It hurt to see his brother thought otherwise.
"Look, am I angry that you took my choice away and had to learn about all of this from you? Yeah, you better count on it! But what I really want to know is why they even decided to hide their supposed fame from us in the first place?"
James's pupil's dilated, warm brown irises barely visible.
A pang of guilt etched itself into Albus' heart. He'd always been one to keep a tight lid on his feelings. When angry, he'd often become silent to the point that he wondered if anyone could tell whether or not he was still breathing.
Time ticked by as he watched his brother eventually blink several times and take multiple steadying breaths.
"It's this corridor, I think. Secret passage really," James rasped. "I don't think anyone knows it's here. At the end is a portrait that looks into the headmistress' office. The passage has been enchanted to only allow those with honesty in their minds to walk down it. At least that's what the phoenix on the banner wrote once when I asked him."
Albus watched, a hallow tone echoing throughout his body, as tears welled up around the corner of his brother's eyes. James was just stalling.
"Guess it keeps out the average person trying to spy. Can't enter with the intent of not being found. The trick's to enter with the intent to just listen in, got to be willing to be found or share what you know with whoever you're listening in on. I just never realized it'd also compel honesty to this degree if you went down the corridor with someone else. I guess I was asking for it," James rambled, looking bashfully down at his knees, his feet being barely visible in the dim light provided from his wand.
"I promise I will tell you all. Anything you want to know. But we do really have more pressing matters first." James took his hand and gave it a squeeze, not letting go.
Albus felt some of the anger flow out of him. "Why are we here, James?" he asked quietly.
"I'd never seen Teddy so enraged when Sköll declared her acceptance in the Great Hall. He actually left without a word when she was sorted into Hufflepuff. I can't find him on the map of Hogwarts anymore either. Wherever he is, he's walked outside the wards. And now Sköll Grayback is with Professor McGonigal in her office." James threaded his fingers through his own and lead him down the corridor.
"Obviously Grayback is the wizard dad's been hunting down for years. The one he'd been trying to get the Ministry to even acknowledge wasn't dead," James stated, quickening their pace.
"You don't have to tell me, we all know that already," Albus hissed.
It was disorienting walking into the dark without an apparent end.
"Well, it was Fenrir Grayback who bit Teddy's father, Remus, when he was only four years old. And you know Teddy, he's right behind Aunt Hermione in the werewolf right s parade. If Auntie Mione has the baton, Teddy will be right behind her beating the drum. He's been petitioning McGonigal to build a werewolf-friendly transformation zone at Hogwarts for years, despite there not having been a werewolf student at Hogwarts since his father. So being that the first werewolf back on Hogwarts grounds is now a Grayback, who knows what Teddy's going to do," James panted.
Albus felt slightly nauseous.
"Think his mother was a Hufflepuff too, so that probably also didn't sit well with him," James remarked, stopping in front of a life-sized, blank, backside of a canvas.
"I will let the portrait know we are here to listen and help Headmistress McGonigal and Teddy however we can," James added, finally letting go of his hand and pressing his face against the canvas.
He attempted to follow his brother's lead but his legs locked in place.
"This is spying, James. The magic is locking my legs." Albus wiggled his hips left and right with minimal success.
"Oh don't worry Albus, I'm positive McGonigal knows we're in here at this very moment. That witch knows absolutely everything. You can't think of it as spying. We're just going to have a listen in so we can help out, whether she wants us to or not," James reaffirmed, beckoning him closer.
Reluctantly, Albus carefully emptied his mind and let his brother's warped reasoning take effect. He'd let Teddy know what they would overhear. Maybe he'd even go to Professor McGonigal after and confess that he'd listened to her conversation.
James and he stood behind the shadows of a portrait; splotches of rusty color visible through the light.
"Greet the portrait and tell her what you're doing," James commanded, bringing him closer.
Albus stared at the shadows and light on the unpainted, underside of a canvas. "Good evening. I'm Albus Potter. You may let Headmistress McGonigal know I'm here to listen in if you see fit. I'm here to help out Teddy and my dad," he whispered, lips an inch from the portrait. "Thank you."
James directed him to lean his ear against the stretched canvas. Sound waves prickled his ear with perfect clarity. He closed his eyes and imagined Headmistress McGonigal behind a great wooden desk, books tidy and quills in order, and Sköll, clothes covered in all matter of earth, seated across the other side of McGonigal's desk.
"Your tea, Miss Grayback," a crisp and dignified voice tickled his ear.
The sound of slurping ensued. Who would ever slurp their tea?
"I'm sorry I must ask you at all…" Professor McGonigal's voice rang with weariness. "I will not let the Ministry apprehend or speak with you while you are under my protection at Hogwarts. It is outside their right. That being said, is there anything you wish to tell me?"
The silence continued as the slurping lasted for several minutes. Albus could hear his heart patter and his brother's sharp breaths.
"So this is tea?" a hoarse voice finally spoke.
"Would you like more?" McGonigal clipped.
"It's a rather disappointing drink, isn't it? Always assumed it'd be something rich and fancy. That my lips would turn to pure gold just drinking it, aye?" Sköll scoffed with a breathy laugh.
He could almost envision the stern Headmistress raising an inquiring brow and fixing the angle on her slightly askew, pointed hat.
"It be like drinking hot piss," Sköll cackled for a minute straight.
Albus winced, the crude speech jarring him. Grayback's laughter was nothing like the sort of high-pitched giggles the girls in his year had made when Will guzzled down the potion, nor like the soft and free chuckling of Rose. No. Sköll's laugh was something between gasping for breath and thunder.
Professor McGonigal remained silent. Good. Don't buy her bait.
"You got questions for me?" Sköll's voice finally slid down his ears again like a dragon's claw on stone.
"If I do, will you answer any?" the headmistress inquired after a pause.
"Really it's not so much a question of 'will I' than 'can I?'" Sköll said slowly, letting extra emphasis linger on each word.
"Those aren't just scars on your arms, are they?" the stern voice took on a hint of repulsion.
"So you are observant! Here, here... Take a closer look," Sköll laughed, fast and excited.
"This is abuse," McGonigal clipped after a moment, voice holding an air of horror.
The girl let out another one of her strange laughs.
"Those of us with magic, we take unbreakable vows every five years while we're growing up. The runes are just extra precautions. They tend to get less powerful as they heal. And we werewolves heal rather quick," Sköll grunted.
"Tell me more, if you will," McGonigal proceeded cautiously.
"Well, it turns out for unbreakable vows to be effective and take hold, one has to have some control over their magic to accept the deal. Pa tried when we were all babies. Didn't work. Actually, found out the hard way that too many vows at once can also corrode magic. Puts organs into failure too." Sköll's explanation remained casual. Unperturbed.
McGonigal remained silent.
"At the age of five, most of us were only able to take a general vow: 'I vow to serve my family.' It's just enough to hold together a ragtag group of us werewolves, new and old. At age ten, we vow 'never to betray our family'," the girl explained.
"Have you not betrayed your father, coming here? To Hogwarts?" McGonigal asked, concern bleeding into her voice.
"Well, I never asked my father, or even showed him my letter of acceptance. Never gave him the chance to say yes or no. I just made a decision as soon as I got it and left," Sköll revealed. "Bloody hard to find this place too, it was."
"I see," McGonigal chimed. "And pray, may I ask for your thoughts on your father? Shall we be expecting him here to take you away? Our students typically require parental consent to attend."
"Oh tosh! You know well as I that you won't be sending me back to me dear old pa anytime soon. Besides, I really can't betray and must always serve my father. After that, it gets complicated. Honestly, I think he'll actually come around to my attending Hogwarts. He wants all the young wizards and witches in his pack to learn magic anyways, so I'm not technically going against his will. He's always said magic makes us more powerful and all that hogwash. The only problem is he's a rubbish teacher and knows it," Sköll confessed with a breathy laugh.
"And should we be expecting your father to show up at Hogwarts?" McGonigal inquired, voice tight.
"Nah, I don't expect so. He's got quite a bit of plans on his plate at the moment, I'll be the least of his worries. Though I suppose it's possible he'll try to send someone for me. But I wouldn't count on it. Not yet at least," Sköll speculated.
"Indeed," McGonigal clipped, not sounding at all convinced.
"Actually, I've been thinking about this. I'd like to send an owl to my pa. He'll do more damage looking for me than if he knows where I actually am. I'll let you read any letters he sends in response. Don't give them to me if there's a command in them. Can't be breaking that unbreakable vow to serve and not betray and all that," Sköll stipulated, hoarse voice finally sounding tired.
"Of course. Hogwarts will be your home for as long as you wish it to be," McGonigal assured her softly. "Is there anything about your previous home that you'd like to inform me of?"
"Well, where do I even start?" the girl laughed. "Pa is kind of the alpha of a large group of packs. He's got his own inner circle with our own family obviously, but he's head alpha of a lot of packs. He's appointed betas of sorts across the country who have started their own little packs and have some autonomy, but they all follow pa. Most of us are vagrants. We have general territories but travel all over. Never sit still in one place for too long. And my family? We'll some of us don't make it. My ma disappeared pretty soon after we were born. Think pa probably killed her. She apparently wasn't for his unbreakable vow craze... or the experimenting on newly made werepups. He had a lot of attempts to make werewolves out of muggles. It worked sometimes, but mostly they just died. Honestly, I like to think my ma just ran away," Sköll announced, as though all she'd just revealed were common knowledge.
"And, does your pack often receive visitors. Other magical creatures and such?" McGonigal asked calmly.
"Ah, now. I can't betray pa's plans, he's specifically told me to never tell anyone about our visitors," Sköll huffed.
Albus felt sweat rolling down from his brows. How much danger would all of Hogwarts be in because of this girl?
"There are other ways, magic, that could glimpse inside your memories. However, I'd rather someone skilled do so with you. My talents don't lie in Legilimency," McGonigal almost whispered. "Either way, I won't allow legilimency on you without your consent."
Silence ensued for several heartbeats.
"What will you have me do when it's my time to transform?" Sköll inquired, drastically changing the subject. "I've never taken wolfsbane before..."
Albus felt James pull him away from the backside of the portrait and reluctantly lead him down the enchanted corridor. The walk through the dark felt entirely faster. As soon as he pushed the banner of the phoenix aside, Albus felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The curse of honesty lifted.
James pressed his head forward against the wall, long shadows reaching down the corridor.
"Why did you bring me?" Albus finally asked.
James balked. "You don't just think that I wanted to get up to no good with my beloved brother and lead him down a path of nefariousness mischief as a newly minted Gryffindor?" James chided, a suave grin plastered on his face.
"No." Albus scrunched his brows, searching his brother's face for the answer. "You wanted to use me for something, right?"
James looked sheepish, grin changing into a tight, pleased smile. "I've always suspected but was never positive. If anything, I think you'd have a talent for it."
"Suspected what? A talent for what?" Albus demanded, taking a step closer to his brother.
"I believe you're a natural legilimens," James said, toothy smile sharp.
Albus felt himself stumble a step backward, air rushing out of his lungs. "How can you be sure?" he breathed, not certain he wanted to know the answer.
"I can't be. If anything, I think it's a talent that's undeveloped in you. Something that pulls out when you want it to without even realizing it. But only when you want to, or if you're searching for something," James explained, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Now obviously, if you were a natural, undeveloped legilimens, I wouldn't expect you to peer into Sköll Graybacks head from behind a portrait. I think I read gazing into eyes makes it much easier or something. Either way, I'd hoped you'd be able to sense if she were lying or telling the truth. Legilimens or not, you've always had a sixth sense for that." James gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze.
"No, I don't think she was lying," Albus answered carefully after considering. Nothing about Grayback's responses or interactions felt off. Certainly, there was information she was withholding, but none of it felt warped. He just somehow knew. Shivers prickled across his spine at the thought of being a Legilimens.
After all this time, I wonder if I could have simply looked further into mum and dad's minds. Seen what they were hiding from me. The truth of if stabbed him like a knife.
"I think you may be right, James," Albus barely breathed. "Could you keep this just between us for now? I don't know if I want anyone to know. Especially if it turns out I'm not."
James nodded in agreement, exclaiming he'd plan on finding Teddy and tell him what they'd heard and send an owl to dad.
Albus headed back to the hospital wing to check on Will before curfew.
"Albus, you dear boy!" Madame Pomfrey squawked, nearing knocking over a chair as she bustled across the ward, giving him a quick hug before she knelt down, placing her hands on each of his shoulders.
His heart sank.
"I just received word... St. Mungo's has been attacked," Madame Pomfrey uttered, grip tight on his shoulders.
If the Head Matron hadn't been holding his shoulders, Albus would have sunk to his knees. Instead, he wobbled in place as his heart shattered.