Chapter 22 is out!
Scala ad Caelum
Chapter 22: Plans and Answers
Harry Potter POV
Friday 25th December, 1992 (Gryffindor common room, Hogwarts) - Early morning
The term had finally ended, and with it, almost all the students went back home. Usually, most of the people did not stay in the castle during holidays; especially for Christmas. But this year, due to the hysteria created by the Heir, even those who liked to spend a few weeks in the castle without the classes' stress had decided to get out of the place as soon as they could.
Thanks to that, the very few of them who remained in the castle could do as they pleased.
On the one hand, the waiting for the Polyjuice potion to be ready was killing them. But on the other hand, it had been a long time since Harry had so much fun. The Weasleys had decided to spend the holidays in the school rather than visiting their brother Bill in Egypt. That meant playing a lot of games of Exploding Snap; 'duelling' practice with the twins, which always ended in a very intense fight with snowballs; and of course, doing homework with Hermione.
"Please, grandma, let me sleep for five more minutes," Neville's pleas reached his ears.
Yeah, that is a nice idea, Harry thought, as he tugged from the warm eiderdown. Unfortunately, someone didn't agree with his actions. The boy tried to ignore the first three attempts to wake him up, but as the person became more persistent, he understood there was no way to escape from the cold reality. "Good morning," he yawned, closing his eyes with force as he stretched his whole body like a cat.
"Good morning to you too," Hermione said back, as she tossed something onto his bed. "Merry Christmas, by the way. Come on, Neville! I am not your grandma!"
Still more sleepy than awake, Harry eyed the wrapped gift from the girl. It had a rectangular shape, and it wasn't very thick; trying to guess something just with those just details could be very hard, but this was Hermione's present, he didn't need to open it to know it was a book.
Despite that, Harry was still curious about it, so he unwrapped the gift to find a leathered-cover book that said: 'The biography of Kim Sang-hyeok, the superstar seeker who redefined how the game was played.' At first glance, it seemed quite interesting. It was always good to have a good book to read during summer, when he needed to spend an entire month jailed with his muggle relatives.
As soon as Neville woke up, the three of them finished their gifts exchange and got dressed for breakfast. Even though the weather was giving them a few days of truce, this year had been colder than the past one, and only thanks to the many charms cast on the corridors and halls—or so Hermione said—they could walk without getting frozen to death. But even the cold temperatures had their good points; otherwise, a mug of hot chocolate wouldn't taste so heavenly.
"This year the castle feels so empty," Neville pointed out, as he eyed the Great Hall. Their table was the one with the most students, even though they only were seven. Aside from them, there also was an older girl from Ravenclaw, and five more students at the Slytherin table; with Ron and Tracey sitting on one end, while Malfoy and his two goons did the same at the other end.
"You two should be thinking about how are you going to get something from Crabbe and Goyle," Hermione told them, out of a sudden.
"I can't believe we need to drink a potion which contains 'essence' of those two," Neville muttered. At least the boy was taking everything with humour, rather than being the ever pessimist he was.
"We'll talk about it this afternoon," Harry proposed. "We have nothing to do until dinner, so we can meet with Ron and Tracey and plan something."
"By the way, is the potion ready?" Neville asked.
"I think it should be ready by tonight," Hermione said. "So we better-"
"What should be ready by this lovely night?" George interrupted her, coming out of nowhere to sit by Hermione's side. "Oh, don't tell me you are planning something nasty without us… I've never felt so hurt before…"
"That would be such an unrespectful thing to do," Fred also piped, placing his arm over Harry's shoulder. "I'd have never expected this from you, Harry… The first law of the Pranknster's Code is to never let your friends out of the plan… You give everything to a person you trust and they stab you in the back; how cruel is life…"
"Isn't it a bit early to start with your nonsense?" Ginny groaned from her spot, sending a very sour look to the twins. "I get that you can't bother Percy since he is at one of his very important 'prefect's patrols', but by Merlin's beard, you are giving me a headache."
"Look at that, Gred," George whistled. "Our little sister knows how to bark now!"
"I'm so proud of her," Fred feigned to be crying about it. "But you don't bark at the bigger dogs, Gin. We know you are also planning something. Care to enlighten us why were you staring for so much time at the Forbidden Forest from the window last night?"
"That is none of your business!" She exclaimed, getting pretty flustered.
"Eh, that works fine for us," George smiled at her. "But you can't also meddle in our business like that. We don't need another Percy, dear sister!"
"Guys, can I enjoy my orange juice in peace, please?" Neville almost pleaded.
"Of course you can! Only for the modest price of telling us what are you planning!" The twins practically sang at the same time. It didn't matter if Harry had known them for more than a year, he still was left speechless every time they pulled out something like that.
"We are not planning a single thing," Hermione lied.
"Tsk, you might be a very clever student, Hermione, but the day the art of lying was taught, you didn't attend class," George smirked. "Let me tell you a fun fact; denial is always the first step to conceive something. Hey, why don't we bet our darkest secret to a snowball fight? You four against us; the last one remaining wins."
"You can't be serious," Ginny snorted. "Yeah, you've gone totally mental, that must be it."
"This, ladies and gentlemen, is the second step to conceive something; acting as if you didn't care at all," Fred went on. "Come on, why are you so boring? Dear George had a fantastic idea! It is a rather nice way to solve this; if you win, we won't bother you anymore and you four get to know our secrets; if you lose, well, you let us know about your plans. Hell, if we consider it to be crazy enough, we might bless you with our help; truly a fantastic deal!"
"You are not going to stop until we agree, right?" Harry groaned.
"Jackpot, dear Harry."
Well, if there was no other way around, they would have to accept the deal. But Harry also knew how to play that kind of game. "We have a deal," the boy started. "In fact, let's raise the stakes. We'll add both Ron and Tracey to our team. If you win, you can try to convince them so they tell you their secrets; deal?"
"Don't you think six against two is a bit unfair," Fred scowled at him.
"Oh, sorry about that. I just didn't think you would coward like that..."
"Now, that sure is a cheap trap and provocation if I've ever seen one," George snorted. "But don't you ever say again that we are scared of little Ronnie and his friend. We'll meet near the Lake in one hour. Go get your reinforcements and wait for us there."
Once they were gone, Hermione sent him a furious look. "What was that about?" She questioned. It seemed she hadn't liked Harry's decision.
"He took the wisest decision he could take," Ginny jumped in his defence. "There was no way out from this. Once the twins set their minds onto something, they don't stop until they get it; trust me, you don't know them as I do."
"Is this really happening?" Hermione went on. "What is wrong with them? Can they just let others live as they please while they focus on their own business?"
"Welcome to my life," Ginny sighed. "They are just bored, that is the problem. Since there is almost no one during these holydays, the twins have no one to prank or people to test their creations on; that makes us the only source of action here. What a mess… On top of that, they've given us an hour to prepare because they needed time to think of a good plan to put us all through the dirt."
"You think it was a bad decision to taunt them as I did?" Harry asked her.
"N-No, of course not," Ginny answered. "I mean… there was no way for us to win a four versus two; it is the twins we are talking about. But now that we are six… well, we might stand a chance. If they don't come up with a crazy enough plan in this hour, that's it."
"Okay, let's do this," Ron announced. The redhead had not taken the news very well, in fact, he almost hexed Harry for dragging him into the mess. Despite that, he also understood winning the snowball fight was the only way for the twins to let them in peace, so there were they, in the middle of the school's terrains waiting for Fred and George to arrive.
"Do you have any last-minute plans?" Tracey asked him.
"Nothing at all," Ron answered. "This is the twins we are talking about; if you think something is impossible, then you better be ready for them to pull it out."
"I don't want to be tiresome, but we need to win," Hermione let them know.
"Don't worry about it," Harry reassured her. "I have a secret plan." There, hidden under his robes, was his invisibility cloak; his ace up the sleeve. The twins weren't going to play a fair game, but neither were them. It's been quite a while since I last use it. I can't wait to see their faces when a snowball hits them out of nowhere.
"Oh, I see," Ron smirked at him, after realizing what the hidden message was. "We'll trust you then, Harry."
"They are coming," Ginny announced. "Look that their smug faces… Yeah, I'm not losing against them today; they will remind me of it for the rest of my life…"
"Well, well, well, look what do we have here, Georgie," Fred smiled at them. "Aren't they the ones whom we have to put through the dirt?"
"Wait, allow me a moment to check it," George said, looking at his rivals through a monocle. "Oh, you are right! Look at that, Freddie! Eh, doesn't the red-haired boy have something written on his forehead?"
Fred grabbed the monocle his twin brother tossed at him midair, just to look at them through it. "Oh, you are right," he muttered. "It says: 'I am a loser'. Oh, come on, you need to have a bit more of self-esteem, Ronnie."
"Was it necessary?" Ron asked them with a bored voice.
"Of course it was!" George laughed. "However, now it's time to get serious. Rules are simple, my dear younglings: one, everything is allowed; two, the team with the last man—or woman—standing wins; three, there is no time limit; four and lastly, if anyone gets hit by a snowball he is out. Do you have any questions?"
"No, let's finish this as soon as possible, please," Ron grunted. "I'm bloody freezing here!"
"On that, I agree," Fred nodded. "Well, since we are very kind persons, we'll stay here and count to one hundred; that is the time you have for hiding and preparing your ambush. Come on, get out of here! One; two; three…"
The six of them started to run away from the place. "You know what to do!" Harry exclaimed at Ron, Tracey and Ginny.
"Yeah, try to end with one of them as soon as you can!" Ron exclaimed back, just as his group went towards the Lake.
Their plan was rather simple. Ron would lead the group with the members who didn't know about his invisibility cloak, while Harry led the other one. The main objective was to split up the twins so they had to face them in a one versus three; there, Harry needed to eliminate the one who came after them and ran to help the other group.
Their sprint led them towards the Forest's boundaries, where they planned to ambush the twins. "Okay, this is far enough," Harry raised a hand to stop his friends, who were trying to regain their breath. "You two get his attention and try to lure him deeper, I'll jump onto him as soon as I see the perfect chance."
"Wait a moment, please," Neville managed to say, still out of breath. "Unlike you… Wood doesn't destroy us each two days with Quidditch practice."
"Yeah, we can't run as much as you," Hermione supported him. "We have a bit of time before they find us. They still need to finish the count and to follow our footsteps."
If they played their cards good enough, that didn't have to be a problem. "Okay, you two stay here and wait for the twins," Harry told them, a new strategy forming in his head. "Fred and George also know you don't have as much endurance as I do. I need you to pretend you couldn't follow me and try to hold him for as much time as you can, okay?"
"Don't worry, it won't be hard to pretend that," Nevile muttered.
With a last nod of his head, Harry got under the cloak and left them alone. Even though the twins were practically identical, if the boy had to choose one to come after them, that would be Fred. It was barely noticeable, but after hundreds of Quidditch's practices, Harry learnt long ago that George was more prone to use his head in tough situations than his twin brother.
He wandered around the area where Hermione and Neville were supposed to be waiting for the twins. For some minutes, there was nothing. Until a familiar voice reached his ears. "Come one, my dear rookies," Fred sang. "Where are you? Get out and come to play with uncle Freddie…"
Harry grabbed a bit of snow and made a very compact snowball; he needed to wait for his friends' signal.
"Hermione, he is here!" Neville's shout came from the thicket.
Fred sprinted towards the voice with a crazed look in his eyes; his wand and a snowball ready at each one of his hands. "Hey, Neville!" He shouted. "I'm coming for you!" In the way, he had to jump over some logs and rocks, but it did nothing to lower his speed; cursed be Wood and his hellish training.
However, thanks to the speed of the sprint, a hex almost hit him right in the face. "Depulso!" Fred chanted, just in time to shatter both the spell and snowball that were coming at him.
Hermione jumped out of its way, but now she had to face another problem; she was in front of Fred without any snowballs on her hands. "Hello, Hermione!" Fred greeted her with a big smile. "It's been a while, eh?"
This is my chance, Harry thought as he got closer to them. But, for whatever reason, during one of his steps, an alarm started to ring near him. "Intruder! Intruder!" It exclaimed with the twin's voice. "Where do you think you are going, you piece of crap!"
What the hell is that? Harry didn't have time to think about it, because as soon as the alarm was activated, Fred turned around as fast as a golden snitch. "Depulso!" He chanted once again. Unlike the previous spell—even though they were the same one—this was different. If the first had been the classical spark aimed at a specific target, the second was some kind of sweep which sent a wave of snow towards Harry; the tip of Fred's wand illuminated with a yellow light during the entire motion.
"Ups, I might have lost a bit of control there," Fred grimaced. Actually, it had been such a nice stroke of luck; had he not hoisted such a great amount of snow over him, he would have been able to detect Harry. However, the boy was still left buried under a huge amount of snow.
"Windgardium Leviosa!" Hermione tried to hex the older boy.
"Expelliarmus!" Fred chanted, way faster than her.
Harry couldn't see what was happening from his spot, but not as if it mattered; a surprised cry from Hermione let him know she had lost. "I gotta admit it was a very cool strategy," Fred whistled. "But there is something I can't understand; who the hell was behind me? I didn't see any person when I turned back."
"What was that alarm?" Hermione asked him without answering his questions. The girl might be angry because of the defeat, but even in these situations her thirst for knowledge always won.
"It is pretty cool, eh?" Fred laughed. "It is a creation of mine and Forge; one of our future prank items! Actually, this one's objective might not be to prank others, more like protecting the owner from other's pranks, you what I mean?"
"Emh, yes I do," Hermione said, sounding quite impressed. "But… how did you… I mean, if it is some kind of object with magical wards—or so my suppositions say—you should have placed it at that exact spot before you started to pursuit me, right?"
"Jackpot!" Fred exclaimed. "Just as expected from the top student of her promotion! Come on, Hermione, did you really think we needed an entire hour to think of a plan to crush you? Please, don't make me laugh. We knew since the beginning you would try to lead us into the forest; we didn't expect you to split us up, though. Because of that, we set some 'presents' for you in the Forest's boundaries; aren't we pretty cool?"
For a moment, even Harry ceased his attempts of freeing himself from the snow to acknowledge that. Percy Weasley often said the twins were two of the most intelligent persons he had ever known and that they could archive incredible things if they wanted; it was such luck they didn't care about many things, otherwise, the world wasn't ready for that.
"Well, our conversation ends here," Fred commented. "It was a nice plan, but I still have two of your friends to hunt. See you!"
Thanks to the snow, the boy didn't hear the footsteps, but after a minute or so of waiting, he heard Hermione's voice. "Harry?" She whispered nearby. "Where are you? I think he is far enough for you to get out."
He was about to answer her, but a sudden thought came to his mind. Am I so pathetic that I can't get out of here by myself?The situation was reminding him of that time, back during the duelling club, when Nott toyed with him as if he was some toddler.
"I think you are pretty stupid," the lanky boy told him back then, surprising Harry with his brutal honesty. "I can tell this is the first time you've practised any kind of duelling, and yet, your movements are very natural and fluent. From what I've observed from the classes, you just limit yourself to doing as you are told. You have the talent to do great things, Potter, but you just lack the ambition to get the shit done; you are the kind of person I dislike the most…"
In most of the dangerous situations, he had always relayed in Hermione or Ron; hell, even Greengrass had to save his ass when facing that giant chessboard. The only time he had been alone facing some danger was against Quirrell, and even then, it had been his mother's sacrifice that saved him.
With a frustrated grunt, Harry managed to face up and point his wand upwards. What spell can I use here? We weren't taught in class how to cast that Depulso spell Fred used, so… An idea, in the form of a certain troll's cub levitating on the air, came to his mind. "Wingardium Leviosa," he muttered.
It was the first time he tried that spell with so much weight. For some seconds, the snow didn't move. Come on, Harry! Is this all you are going to do if you have to face the Heir? Are you gonna rely on Ron and Hermione for your whole life? No, he wasn't. With another and renewed push of magic, the mountain or snow was finally levitated from the ground; the spell also taking his cloak away.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, not expecting him to get out that way. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Harry grunted back. The spell had left him way more tired than we would have liked. "I wasn't expecting for Fred to pull that out; he literally buried me under snow! Where did he go?"
"That way," Hermione pointed with her finger to the south. "He is after Neville right now. You need to run after him! They can't win! We can't let so many people know about the Polyjuice potion!"
"I know," the boy told her, exhaling a long gulp of air for the sprint. "Wait for us back at the castle; we are gonna win this."
The boy grabbed his cloak and a snowball before spriting, following the redhead's footsteps. After a minute or so, he found Fred; wand in hand and looking everywhere for his prey. I can't activate more of those alarms… for that, I need to step where he does. It was a cheap trick, but it worked. Now, he just needed to be careful of other possible traps.
"Harry, Neville, where are you?" Fred asked aloud. "Come on, I know you are close. Get out so we can go back to the castle as soon as possible! My balls are starting to freeze here!"
From the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of black coming out from behind a very thick tree. Fred, as quick as before with his wand, send some spell to Neville; only that it wasn't the boy.
"What the…?" Fred gasped. It turned out that what he had hit with the spell was just a black robe.
Then, Neville came out from the other side of the tree, his arm already in the motion of throwing a snowball. The twin couldn't even react in time, he just looked with a surprised look at the second-year boy who had just outsmarted him. Unfortunately, the snowball didn't hit its target; it fell short.
Unlike his, Fred's one did hit its target and instant after it. "Has this really happened?" He asked the other boy, as if he couldn't still believe that Neville had just wasted such a nice chance.
"Emh… I guess so," Neville said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Have you found Harry of Hermione?"
This is my chance! Come on, imagine your a throwing a quaffle! Harry used the time Neville was winning him with the conversation, getting out of the cloak at the same as he threw the snowball. I hit Fred right on his cheek.
"What the heck?" He mumbled, his mouth full of snow.
"You should look at your back more often," Harry smirked at him, just after hiding the cloak in his robes.
"Wait, what? From where did you come from?"
"I've been following you for a while," Harry let him know. "I just needed to step where you did yo not activate the alarms you set."
"Oh, so it was you back then," Fred said. Actually, he seemed pretty happy for someone who had just lost. "They are a pretty nasty thing, eh? We are quite proud of it. There were other kinds of traps around, but you didn't set them up so… Whatever, I guess I'm out, but you still have to take George down."
"Come on, Harry!" Neville urged him. "Go help Ron's team!"
With a nod of his head, the boy started to run to get out of the forest, towards the Great Lake. After some minutes, he finally made it, but there was no one in the Lake. What? Where are they? Don't tell me they've already lost. Then, some far voices reached his ears. Aren't those Ron and George's voices? He made his way towards them, running through a little hill; each step the boy took covering his feet up to the ankles.
Up there, were the Weasleys and Tracey."You are completely mental," George huffed, shivering quite violently. "I still can't believe you lost your bloody head like that."
"What did you expect me to do?" Ron defended himself from the accusation. It was at that moment when Harry realised the two brothers' robes were completely soaked, both of them wearing another extra coat over their shoulders. "When I saw you pulling another of those things from your robes, I freaked out!"
"Well, then, next time you try to freak out without sending an Exploding Charm to a frozen lake!"
"I've already told you I'm sorry!"
"What the hell happened to you two?" Harry asked once he reached their group. "Why are you two completely soaked."
"Oh, H-Harry," Ginny spluttered. It had reached a point in which the boy didn't know if the red painting her cheeks was thanks to the cold or because of her nervousness. "Ehm… you remember that part of the plan when we needed to lure George into the Lake so he couldn't grab any snowballs? Well, let's say… thanks to that, he started to pull out some nasty things and Ron got a bit nervous."
"A bit nervous, she says," George grunted. "More like a bit mental…"
"Says the one who tossed a bloody screaming spider at me!"
The situation was a bit surreal, but thanks to the loud argument, the others could find them. "Yo, what is happening here?" Fred asked with open eyes.
"Dear Ronnie here had the fantastic idea of breaking the ice we were walking over," George answered, slapping his brother in the back with force.
"You two need to go inside right now!" Hermione gasped. "You could get hypothermia!"
"Wait a moment," Fred stopped them. "Ehm, if that is what happened, who won the game? I mean, technically, if neither of you was hit with a snowball the game isn't finished yet."
"Eh," both of the soaked brothers said, their eyes about to pop out of their sockets after realizing it.
Thankfully for them, Tracey literally slapped a snowball in George's face. "Problem solved, then," she smirked. Everyone looked at her saying nothing for a few seconds. "What? I just took my chance to win, that's it."
"Ehm, yeah, well done," Hermione congratulated. "I wasn't expecting you to react so fast."
"That was a nice one," George told her, spatting all the snow he had in his mouth. "I like you, girl."
"Well, it was a fun morning, wasn't it, Forge?" Fred commented.
"It was indeed."
"Wait, aren't you two… I don't know, a bit angry or something like that after losing?" Neville piped in, bewilderment evident in his voice.
"Nope," they said at the same time. "All that crap about a game to make you tell us what you were planning was just an excuse," George started to explain. "Truth is we just wanted to test our new inventions—like the alarm or the spider—and since you were the only people in the castle… well, we had to motivate you," Fred completed.
"For real?" Ron asked, sending them a dead look.
"For real, real," they laughed, as they high-fived rather loudly. "See ya, losers!"
The six of them were left standing in the middle of the snow, observing their retreating backs. "Someday, I swear I'm gonna kill them," Ginny muttered.
Ronald Weasley POV
That same afternoon...
Today, it had been the day he almost died.
Not by the hands of some dark wizard or fighting an epic enemy to save others; no, it was thanks to his stupidity. In his defence, all the actions needed to kill such a disgusting creature—like that screaming spider—were totally justified; even setting fire to the castle if needed. If others couldn't understand it, that was their problem.
His quick dip would surely be a funny thing to remember in the future, but that wasn't the case yet. After the 'snowball fight', the redhead had spent the whole day sleeping under the warmness of his blankets. Tonight would be the day to test the Polyjuice potion, so he needed to be rested.
However, there wasn't any mission in his mind right now, not after presencing the decoration of the Great Hall for the Christmas dinner. There were dozens of frost-covered trees everywhere, accompanied by many streamers of holly and mistletoe going from one corner of the Hall to another; like an incredibly beautiful and green cobweb. Despite that, it couldn't top the fact very warm snow was raining all over the area, with the exception of the tables, which were decorated with many red bows.
"What is this?" Tracey gasped by his side "It's amazing…"
"Oh, yeah, I forgot you weren't here last year," Ron smiled, as he watched how Gerd flew around the curtains of mistletoe. "Wait until you see the actual dinner. Trust me, that is the best."
There were very few students this year, but the happy ambient made up for it rather nicely. Malfoy was eating in silence and minding his own business; the Headmaster singing some of his favourite carols, just as McGonagall and Hagrid followed him after drinking a rather generous amount of wine. Yeah, nothing could go wrong that night; not even the Heir of Slytherin could be so buzz killer.
"Hey, look there," Tracey pointed out with her chin—which was rather greasy after a few bits of roasted pig—at the Professors' table. "Snape is the only absent Professor. I know he isn't the kind of man who likes happy parties and these sorts of things, but isn't it a bit weird?"
"Beats me," Ron shrugged it off. It was very strange indeed, but the whereabouts of the young Professor had nothing to with him and the fantastic pudding he was savouring at that moment.
"By the way," Tracey went on. "If the potion it's gonna be ready this same night… aren't we supposed to get something from Crabbe and Goyle so it can work?"
"Hermione already has a plan for it," Ron answered, as he rolled his eyes. "What a surprise, eh?"
"Do you know about it? Because I wasn't told, and neither was Harry when I asked him about it this morning."
"Well, I mean, if you wanna know something, all you need to do is asking, right?"
"Okay, that is good, but aren't you gonna tell me about it?"
"Don't tell Hermione I said this, but the plan has many flaws," Ron told her in a low voice, as if the bushy-haired girl could hear him from the Gryffindor table. "She wants to lure those two gorillas to an isolated corner and have them eat some pieces of chocolate cake with a bit of Sleeping Draught in them… can you believe it? I warned her against it, but she had that steely gaze on her eyes that reminds me so much to McGonagall's, so I let her be."
"It's going to work, trust me," Tracey smiled with confidence. "You think you eat a lot? Those two would shame you in a competition. You've never seen them in a pureblood feast. If it wasn't because their parents are the same as them, they would be ashamed. At least, that is how they behave in the not so important parties; that may change in the important ones, but since I'm not invited to them, I don't know."
In the end, the girls were right, just as Harry and Neville proved when they got into the bathroom with the gorillas' hair, around half an hour after the dinner. "I can't believe it," Ron muttered, pretty amazed at how stupid could humans be. "They really felt for that?"
"They didn't even hesitate," Neville told him, shocking his head as if he couldn't also believe it. "We locked them in some broom closet, but it will be better if hurry up."
"Give me those hairs," Hermione ordered, extending her hand towards her two housemates.
"That potion really smells awful," Harry commented as he handed the hair to her. "It hit me as soon as we got inside, but it is way worse when you get closer."
The boy was right. In fact. the redhead had instantly pulled up his robes to cover his nose as soon as he made it to the bathroom. "What is next?" Ron asked.
Hermione didn't answer him, she just kept stirring the cauldron with an excited gleam in her eyes. "Now, it is time to see if my potion works," she answered after a few seconds, her eyes not leaving the bubbling potion.
"What would happen if it doesn't work?" Neville asked the same doubt they all had.
"You don't want to know," Hermione told him. "But don't worry, I think it is perfect… Or so I think."
"We trust you," Tracey let her know. "Besides, it isn't me the one who has to drink it… Jeez, don't look at me like that, it was just a joke to lighten the mood…"
Completely ignoring her, Hermione got some very large robes out of her bag. "Here, I took these from the laundry this morning. You'll need them since Crabbe and Goyle are much bigger," she tossed the robes at them. Then, from the pocket of her robes, the girl took out three glass vials. "I'll separate the potion in three glasses and add the respective hair to them… This is gonna work…"
"Wait a moment," Tracey piped in. "Three glasses? Who is the third person?"
"I am," the bushy-haired girl replied. "Back during the duelling club, thanks to Lockhart pairing me with Bulstrode, I managed to get some hair from her. I'll just tell Malfoy I've decided to come back for the holidays since there were some problems at my house."
"Ehm… it doesn't work like that," Tracey sighed. "Millicent Bulstrode would not come back to school during Christmas ever, much less due to 'family problems'. Malfoy and everyone close to the pureblood circle knows it."
That statement made everyone look at the brunette, who just shrugged her shoulders in defence. 'It is not my fault you lot know shite about our prickly, pureblood customs,' she seemed to be saying.
"Ah… Ehm… well, that is a little detail we didn't plan," Hermione muttered, looking quite embarrassed.
"It means nothing," Harry took the lead. "We'll follow the original plan in which Nevill and I are the ones to infiltrate, while Ron and Tracey help us from the inside."
"Yeah… Okay, I'll clean the whole bathroom to get rid of any trace of us and store my dose of Polyjuice potion in the case we need it in the future," Hermione concluded. "Come on, you need to go as soon as possible! The Sleeping Draught should keep those two sleeping for an hour or so, but since they are so big… well, that is another thing I can't exactly plan."
"Wait, don't drink it here!" Tracey stopped the two boys mid-act. "Do you wanna explode the stall or what?"
"Nice one," Harry muttered. "I'm not used to thinking as if I weighed twice as I normally do. See you in a few seconds… If there isn't anything wrong with the potion, of course."
Each boy—with the gigantic robes on their hands—took a different stall, looking quite determined given the situation. After a few seconds, Ron and the two girls started to hear some loud noises and the disgusting sound of retchings. "Oh my God," Hermione whispered, looking as pale as marble. "They should be okay… I did as the book said…"
"Don't worry about it," Ron tried to calm her. "They are drinking a vial with Crabbe and Goyle's essence. It's a miracle they haven't thrown it up yet." At least, that was the most reassuring thought he could think of.
Finally, after an entire minute of ragged breaths from the inside, the two boys came out of the stall. Only that they weren't the same. In front of them were standing the two gorillas of Crabbe and Goyle; hell, the first one even had the same prominent pimple on the right cheek. "Woah," Tracey gasped with amazement. "Woah. I knew it was supposed to work like this but… woah. It's perfect!"
Harry-Crabbe went past them to look at his reflection on the big, dirty mirror of the bathroom; it looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in centuries, but it worked for the boy. "Incredible," he muttered, palping his face with both hands. "What about my voice and these kinds of things?"
"You sound too intelligent," Tracey pointed out. "It should be more of a grunt, like: 'Eh, I Crabbe, me like food,' or something like that."
"Are they really so stupid?" Neville asked. For a moment, it freaked Ron out; he wasn't used to hearing Goyle sounding so timid.
"Have you ever heard them talking more than one sentence?" Tracey asked. Her question got no answer. "That is because nobody has ever done it. Since they were toddlers, their parents taught them to follow orders from Malfoy and Nott so they didn't have to think about anything. Still, Crabbe has always been the one with more…, initiative, so it will be you the one to approach Malfoy. Also, he is the most violent and grumpiest of the two, that is why you need to act like a hateful bigot when asking him about the Heir."
"I will try," Harry promised. Then, he cleared his throat and furrowed his brow. "Eh, Draco, when are you goin' to call the monster to turn another of those impure bastards into stone?"
Even if he wanted to give his opinion, the redhead hadn't really listened to Crabbe talking, so he got no verdict. "That's better, but Crabbe doesn't use the word 'impure' to talk about muggle-borns," Tracey corrected him. "The term purebloods use is 'mudblood'."
From the corner of his eye, Ron saw how Hermione froze for a moment while cleaning the stall; it truly was a horrible word to describe muggle-borns. Still, it was enough to remind him how important it was to stop the Heir of Slytherin. For that, they needed to interrogate Malfoy. "Come on," the redhead told his friends. "We have a mission to carry out. We have a bastard to catch."
Harry Potter POV
It's no wonder the Slytherins are always so grumpy, Harry thought. It must be horrible to live in the dungeons. At least, their common room was very hard to find, that was a given. If it wasn't because Ron and Tracey were leading the way—walking an entire corridor ahead of them—they would be lost. A few weekly trips to the dungeons for Potions weren't enough to make him a bit familiar with that area of the castle.
"Harry, try not to swing your arms so much when walking," Neville told him in a whisper. "Crabbe carries them way more stiffly; except when he is about to hit someone, that's it."
"Okay, but you also need to sound way more…, crude," Harry nodded at his friend. It was a pain to impersonate another person, but they had hit jackpot with these two. It was really hard to be more of a simpleton than Crabbe and Goyle; very hateful ones, but simpletons in the end.
In front of them, the two Slytherin second-years finally stopped before a very polished, wooden door embedded in the middle of a wall. "Pureblood," Ron said aloud. With that, the door opened in a half, allowing them to get inside of the snake's common room.
"Come on, Neville," Harry softly elbowed him. "It is time to get things done."
The place screamed Slytherin in every sense of the word. It was a very large and elegant room, with many black-leathered couches and tables made of the most refined wood. There were dozens of greenish lamps, which along with a great fireplace at the end of the room. gave the place a very regal and sombre ambience.
It was a very colourless sight, one that had nothing to do with the floor's decoration. There, almost covering the entirety of the place, was a very vivid carpet that showed an old man with a long, white beard—who probably was Salathar Slytherin himself—surrounded by very large snakes. "Welcome to the pit of vipers," Neville muttered by his side. "Now, we just have to find the most disgusting one of them…"
With a quick look, Harry saw how Ron and Tracey made their way towards some couches which were near the fireplace, the redhead stopping for a moment at some table to grab a chessboard. It was a good spot to visualize the whole room, but for it to be of use, they had to find Malfoy.
Fortunately, the blond boy was the one to come at them. "Why are you standing in the middle of the room?" He asked, raising a brow at them.
"We… were waiting for you," Harry answered. It was a very stupid reply, but he was Crabbe, nothing but the excellence of the field was expected from him.
"I told you to not wait for me," Malfoy sighed. It looked as if it wasn't a very rare thing to happen. "Whatever, I'm going to bed right now, this place is so boring during holidays. We can't even take a stroll around the castle because the Professors think a monster is going to pop out from a corner and attack us. Please, we are purebloods…"
"What kind of monster do you reckon it is?" Neville asked, trying to sound as curious as he could. It wasn't a bad way to start the conversation, but it could have been a bit too direct.
"Beats me," Malfoy dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "I don't know how many times I have to answer your stupid questions."
"People still thinks Potter is the Heir," Harry pointed out. It was the perfect chance, and the boy took it.
"People knows nothing," Malfoy sneered. "In what world could Saint Potter, the mudbloods' saviour, be the Heir of Salazar. Please, don't make me laugh."
There it was, that damned word. Harry felt how his heart started to pump more and more blood. Despite that, he managed to control the impulse to hex the blond rat on the spot. "Hmm," he hummed in agreement.
The two gorillas were known to be very stupid, but maybe, his acting was a bit too much. "What is wrong with you, Vincent?" Malfoy sent him a guarded look. "You've been acting pretty weird today. Hell, you didn't even tell me how much you wanted for the Heir to finally attack the mudblood of Granger."
"The bastard ate too much," Neville came to his aid. "He stole my chocolate cakes." To reinforce his words, the boy slapped him on his back with force.
Following the acting, Harry feinted a punch, but he stopped as soon as he saw Malfoy's glare. "You two really are incredible," the blond muttered, quite disappointed with their behaviour. "Whatever, nothing new here."
He started to walk away from them. He's going to the bedrooms! I need to think about something! "We heard Potter and his gang talking about doing something to find the Heir," Harry commented, using his last resource. It was the first thought to appear in his mind, but it worked to stop the retreating boy.
"I wish them good luck, then," Malfoy laughed aloud. "What are they gonna do, use Granger as bait to lure the monster and then ask it very politely about the Heir. Don't make me laugh, Vincent."
"Aren't you curious, Draco?" Neville asked him. "I wouldn't mind seeing that creature."
For a moment, there was a strange glint in his eyes, but he quickly snapped out of it. "I don't have time to chase Heirs," Malfoy told them. "Whoever it is, I wish him the best of the lucks. However, I'm not stopping you from doing it. As soon as everyone comes back from holiday, you can start following any mudblood from Hufflepuff or Gryffindor; the Heir has shown a little preference towards them."
"Don't you have any kind of guess?" Harry went on. "To help us, I mean."
"Jeez, I know you two are rather slow, but how many times do I have to tell you?" Malfoy shook his head in amazement. "The only thing I know about the Heir is the fact he opened the Chamber fifty years ago; it ended with a dead mudblood, by the way. My father did warn me against meddling in the Heir's business, though." That last part came in a much weaker voice. It was the first time in Harry's life to see the blond looking so vulnerable; another point in favour of the infiltration.
Fifty years ago, eh? One of their first theories had been about Malfoy's father passing the knowledge down to his son, but the dates weren't compatible. He could be lying to his own friends, but it didn't look like that. That glint in his eyes was honest… He also wanted to know more about the Heir. The mission's purpose had been to uncover the Heir's identity, it might have been far from it, but at least, they knew Malfoy wasn't the one they were looking for.
Harry didn't know if that was even good for them.
Malfoy was vile and cruel, but he was predictable and beatable. There was a person who opened the Chamber fifty years ago, so it could either be a descendant of the said wizard, or the very same Heir who came back to finish the job. A part of his brain was telling Harry how impossible it was. No one could fool Dumbledore and get inside the castle so easily. Despite that, it was them who had to face Voldemort last year…
"What are you staring at, Vincent?" Malfoy grunted at him.
Harry had spaced out in the middle of their conversation. "Ehm, I was thinking about who was going to be the… mudblood I'll follow."
"Whatever," Malfoy huffed as he turned back, in the bedroom's direction. "Try to not get too close to the monster of the Chamber. It might confuse you with a mudblood."
"I think he just insulted you," Nevile pointed out after a few seconds, once the blond boy was out of sight.
"I guess so," Harry nodded in agreement. "Come on, we need to move." Thanks to the attacks of the Heir, there was a curfew in the castle. They needed to reach the Gryffindor tower before it was too late. "Shit, I could have brought the invisibility cloak," the boy cursed as they made their way out.
"Hey!" Ron practically jumped in front of them. "How did it go? Did the bastard tell you anything good?"
"Malfoy isn't the Heir," Harry answered, the words coming out of his mouth in a frenzy. "We need to go back, so we'll talk tomorrow. We also learn the Chamber was opened fifty years ago and some muggle-born students got killed; the petrifications will stop at some point in the future."
"Bloody bastard," Ron cursed with rage. "I promise you we will find you, Heir of Slytherin…"
Those last words barely reached Harry's ears as he got out of the viper's nest. Yeah, we will stop you before you get to kill another innocent student… Just as we stopped Quirrell and Voldemort last year… Watch us!
Albus Dumbledore POV
Friday 25th December 1992 (Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts) - Before midnight
Tonight, it was one of the very few times in his old life that Albus wanted to deal with the Board of Governors. Not with the whole pack, of course; just with those who did not want him to resign as Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Lucius Malfoy had been whispering venom in their ears since the man became the Chairman, and now, thanks to the Chamber of Secrets being opened once again, it was his perfect chance for a final push. In fact, Albus' only advantage was the support from Cornelius and the Ministry. But he was no fool. As soon as the Minister allowed the media to write about the school's situation, his days as Headmaster were over; if he did not catch the Heir of Slytherin before that, of course.
The fireplace roared, just at the same time as Fawkes perched atop of his chair; the phoenix had been reborn a few weeks ago, so he still was in that phase in which he loved to show off. Ah, you will never change, my loyal friend, Albus smiled at the regal creature, tossing a fried hazel to the magical creature.
Lord Marc Davies made his entrance into the office. "Albus," he greeted with a tired smile. "Pardon me for the late hours, but I needed to convince at least half of the Governors. It was not an easy task."
Lord Davies was a very peculiar man. Born with a decent wealth but without much prestige within the pureblood society, he was one of the many men who were recruited to fight for Tom in one way or another. In his case, it was financial help that was required. As far as Albus knew, the man had never raised a wand against the Order or the Ministry; he just was another poor soul dragged to the war.
"Don't worry," Albus kindly smiled at him. "Sit here, Marc, we have a lot to talk about."
The man dropped himself on the chair across the table. Years and stress had taken a toll on him. In the past, Marc was a handsome boy who didn't like to stand out. Now, some very prominent bags under the eyes and a rather generous, receding hairline made him look like a very ordinary wizard. Yet, he was one of the very few men who always tried to change things for the better.
"Lucius already has seven Governors by his side," Lord Davies told him. The matter was serious enough to not beat around the bush. "I've tried to ask them for patience and time, but they don't hear my pleas anymore."
"I wonder what could have been those things Lucius promised them," Albus commented, rather amused to see how that man would never change. "Money? Or maybe some dark relics from his personal collection? Let's not forget about his contacts within the Ministry..."
"Do not take this matter lightly, please," Lord Davies almost begged him. "There has never been so many Governors against you, Albus."
"It doesn't matter how many of them are. As of today, I have total support from Cornelius and his cabinet. The moment that changes, then I will truly worry about it."
"You need to hunt the Heir of Slytherin, there is no other way around. The Board of Governors does not care about muggle-borns being attacked, for them is the perfect excuse to sack you. Now, if the media were to make it public, the country would be shaken to the core; as it happened when Pettigrew escaped. You need to hunt him down before Fudge's favour expires, Albus. We are talking about Lucius Malfoy here; there is no man alive who can best him in the art of sweet-talking into the politicians' ears."
"You are omitting a very important detail, Lord Davies," Albus said. "This situation scares and overwhelms Cornelius Fudge. How other countries looked at us, British, changed greatly after the War, something which got even worse thanks to Pettigrew escaping and the fact he is yet to be caught. As of today, the only symbol of our country which is still respected and admired by the entire world is this castle; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. Our dear Minister knows it very well, and to keep it that way, he needs to trust me, even though he hates it."
"I see," Lord Davies muttered, tapping the table with his finger in a nervous act. "Then, we need to reinforce it. Most of the magical population knows something is going on in the castle, thanks to their sons and daughters being students here. Yet, they think it is not so grave for two reasons: firstly, because only two students got petrified, which is a reversible state; secondly, you are the Headmaster, so there is no way things escalate further. We need to raise the public trust even more."
"There is a third reason you've omitted," Albus let him know. "The petrified students both come from muggle families. The moment the Heir attacks a pureblood or half-blood, I will be sacked and the castle will be temporarily closed. I don't really care about my position, but I will never allow the students to get their education taken from them; especially, those muggle-born who can't go be home-schooled."
"I know, I know," Lord Davies sighed. "I am here to help you, Albus. Do not forget that, please."
"My apologies. Tell me, Marc, what is the idea lurking in your mind?"
"In behalf of the Board of Governors—at least in mine—I have talked with Amelia Bones about the option of her Department sending us a few Aurors to help the Professors in the castle's patrolling and these kinds of things."
"I don't like having Aurors around the children. This is a school, not a military base."
"A school which will be closed unless we take the steps needed to stop the Heir," Lord Davies stated. There it was, the fire and passion which used to ignite him when he was younger had appeared once again; those which were extinguished by the War. "The children will tell their parents about the Aurors, and even if that makes them realize the situation might be worse than they first thought, I think it has more upsides than downsides."
"I'm guessing you already have the names on the table, right?" Albus allowed himself to smile a bit. One of his favourite things was to see the passion behind his students' eyes, both current and former. Marc Davies was a man who lost his life's purpose thanks to the War as many others did. Unlike those, he never surrendered and tried to keep living and fighting for what he thought was right: his family and Hogwarts. Probably, the two things he loved the most.
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is still very busy with Pettigrew's hunt; at least, that is the impression they want to give other countries," Lord Davies explained. "Still, they've accepted my proposal with the condition of the school taking charge of their weekly salaries. They also requested a few bonus expenses, you know how they are."
"Money runs the world, after all," Albus sighed. "Hogwarts has enough funds to accept those conditions. But first, I need their names. Otherwise, there will not be any deal."
"Jessie Sweeney, Thomas Greene, Henry Fawley," Lord Davies listed. "Two of them just finished their trainee period and became official Aurors this summer. They had no problems coming here since most of their work was patrolling magical London. On the contrary, Fawley was a bit more… reticent, I would say. "
"I can imagine," Albus practically snickered. It had been a long time since Henry Fawley graduated, but the antics of the former prefect still made an old man like him remember the past with a smile on his face; those truly were better times. "Ah, to think both Jessie and Thomas became Aurors… It still feels as if it was yesterday when they finished their studies."
"So, can I take that as a yes?" Lord Davies asked, clearly ignoring his old man's nonsense. "This is the only way forward, Albus. Having three Aurors here will allow you and the Professors to focus on the Heir without neglecting the students' safety. You are the only one who can prevent these events to turn into a tragedy; both thanks to your power and wisdom. Please, accept the help I managed to get."
"I will welcome the three Aurors as soon as the second term starts," Albus declared, echoed by one of Fawkes' cries; he was a very dramatic phoenix, indeed. "You are taking many risks here, Marc. As soon as news of this reaches Lucius' ears, he will storm into the Ministry looking for answers. It will only take him a few questions and your name will be on the table."
"If we capture the Heir, my seat in the Board of Governors will be safe," the Lord answered. "If we don't, then I will be stripped from it, that is true. However, if this stunt of mine helps to protect the students and to stop the attacks, I will have honoured my duty towards Hogwarts. Cursed be Lucius and the other Governors, I do not care about my position if it does not allow me to fight for the school in times of need!"
Albus raised to his feet and extended his hand towards the man, offering him a handshake. "I'm really glad to see your real self once again. Not even the darkest of the times can extinguish the flame that allows the strongest of the men and women to keep moving forward, no matter how many obstacles life throws at them. I am sure your daughter will be very proud of what you are doing, Marc."
"That is the only thing that allows me to keep going, Albus," Lord Davies muttered, accepting his hand for the shake. "I want to build a better world for Tracey and Matt, for that, I need to stop that damned Heir of Slytherin. I won't allow the school to close; not when my daughter is as happy as she has ever been; not when my son's biggest dream is to study here."
Poor souls are those who try to go against a parent who is fighting for their offspring's future, Albus thought. That was your downfall once, Tom. Now, is time for your Heir, whoever it is, to learn about the power of love humans are blessed with; the only power you could never understand...
Lord Elend Shawn POV
Saturday 26th December 1992 (Area of Mysteries, Woolworth Building / New York) - Midday
In the present, many mysteries remain unsolved, but among those, there is only one to have shed as much blood as the other thousands.
What is a Horcrux? How does it work? Is it possible to trick Death itself? What happens to the soul?
Those are the main questions we have tried to search for answers for since the Department of Magical Investigation and Research was created, many years ago. So far, we have discovered nothing, and yet, the count of corpses keeps growing. Many researchers have given their life with the hopes of shedding a bit of light on the matter; in the end, they just were poor souls who died in vain.
What are we missing? That is the question I ask myself every single day. It could be an insignificant detail, or it can also be a hundred things… either way, it does not change the fact we still know nothing about them
It has been always said that Herpo the Foul created the path to immortality. As a scientist, it is my duty to distrust those statements without evidence, but they also are the first step towards the truth; a first hypothesis.
I have given the order to sentence many lives in the process of archiving the truth. Most of them were loyal and good friends of mine, who thought themselves to be ready to finally discover our most sought truth. However, there were also men whose sacrifice was meant to be the key to our success; they were criminals who did not deserve pity, but neither did they deserve the cruel end they met.
Who was I to take so many lives? That was the second question I asked myself the most. Once, I was a very shy and introverted girl who graduated from Ilvermorny with perfect qualifications. Then, I became the anti-social woman who was offered a position in the Unspeakables who worked for MACUSA. Even our name was a copy from the British. I can only hope for them to be different from us; to be better human beings...
After many years at the head of the Titan Project, I had yet to discover the path to immortality, but I was responsible for discovering another aberration… One which I will take to the tomb with me, but also one which I need to write in this parchment.
Why was I doing that? Because, even if we were not the ones to create them, I discovered one of the greatest sins the magical race ever committed; one which I could do nothing but condemn as an atrocious act.
I discovered how to create Dementors…
It was a day as normal as any other. The President of MACUSA had just given us the order to use criminals in our experiments; no matter what the consequences could be. Many heads of the Titan Project before me had ended their own lives after the many failures and sins committed, and truth to be told, I was not far from that point.
It did not matter how many researchers created a Horcrux, we still could not archive what Herpo did. The results of their deaths were just ephemeral Wraths with no trace of any cognitive or sensitive function; brief immortality of a few minutes at best… But that changed when we used the first group of criminals…
We made them perform the ritual needed to create a Horcrux. Unlike those who did it willingly, the criminals did not turn into Wraths, they turned into Dementors; soulless creatures of pure evil.
After many weeks of ponderings, I came up with a hypothesis.
When a willing human performed the ritual, he became a Wrath; a soulless creature that desired immortality over everything. It was a process of 'life-extension' in which a person wanted to live eternally. Now, when a non-willing human performed the ritual, he became a Dementor; a soulless creature that desired a soul over everything. That is the reason why the creatures attack other people; because they just want to restore their humanity one way or another. They are former humans who were condemned to live eternally against their will…
That discovery made me realize how evil we truly were.
It was true we had been killing hundreds of people for the ritual for many decades, but in the ned, they were terminal-ill humans or criminals with a death penalty; with us, researchers, as the executing hand. But there was someone before us—cursed be the name of Ekrizdis—who was evil enough to sacrifice innocent people for his experiments. That man was considered a dark wizard in the present. The truth was he had just been another researcher like us…
Here, written in this parchment, is my will and legacy. I will end my life just as many other of the former Heads of the Titan Project did, but before that, I wanted to tell you, whoever is reading this, the knowledge I needed to share. You can do as you desire with it; either keep it to yourself, or either announce to the whole world how vile we are as a race…
Please, for the sake of the last humanity I have left, be better than us in the future...
Lisa Graves, former head of the Titan Project.
Elend closed the old book with a tired sigh. It didn't matter how many times he read it, that testament always helped him to remind himself how important the cause he was fighting for was; they could not lose. He had read many of these kinds of parchments before, even when he was still working for the British Ministry, but that was the one which opened his eyes the most; the British Unspeakables were ready to go very far to discover those truths they sought, but the Americans were not left behind.
In particular, in terms of research about the Horcruxes—thanks to the Titan Project—the later ones seemed to be more advanced in their research; still, both of them had nothing. Lisa Graves had just been another brilliant mind whose humanity could not keep up with the actions needed to discover the truth, but after she came many others; some of them way more unscrupulous, and others way less intelligent.
In fact, the one Unspeakable at the head of the Titan Project in the present was none other than Raven; a man who associated himself with Master Isaac; an enemy. He was one of the most important members of the Department, just as Elend was, but unlike him, Raven liked to hide his identity under a mask; something that might change today.
It came out of nowhere, but the masked individual had asked Elend for a private meeting.
He tried to think of a reason to understand the move, but it was useless. Raven and his associates were winning the war; it was not even close. The only thing Elend had done was to go after them for many months, trying to get as much information as he could about Herpo's Horcrux from the little traces they left behind.
Yet, it was Raven the one to contact him.
A sudden knock on his door woke him up. "Come in," Elend said. It was time to find out what the mysterious man wanted from him. He readied himself for the possible confrontation, even if it was a very remote possibility.
Raven got into the room with a relaxed stride and his usual robes. Once a person stepped into the Department, there was a uniform that had to be respected; full white robes with the logo of MACUSA sewed on the chest. It made them feel part of the same organization, even if many members did not care about it.
Despite that, the workers were allowed—under the official Code of Rights and Obligations—to hide their identity as they pleased. At this moment, the man in front of him was hiding his face after a crow's mask, with the bird's black wings circling the top of his head as it was some kind of crown. If that wasn't enough, the Unspeakable was wearing a long cape that seemed to be made of thousands of crow's feathers.
"Lord Elend," Raven greeted him with a nod of his head. "Quite a nice office you have here. I see my position as Head of the Titan Project does not grant me such a privilege."
"Let's cut the bullshit early, Raven," Elend grunted. As soon as the man got into the room, he stood on his two feet; if needed, his sword—Legatum—and wand were ready to be drawn.
"Do not be so hostile towards me, please," Raven sighed, raising his arms in a sign of peace. "We both know I do not stand a chance against you; at least, in direct combat. For many years, I've earned the reputation of being a very intelligent and vile individual; don't you think a man like me would avoid any kind of confrontation with a more powerful wizard?"
"I learned long ago to not underestimate anyone."
"Touché."
"What are the reasons for your visit, Raven?" Elend asked.
"You are losing the war against the Order of Merlin," the masked man stated. That wasn't a provocation, it was a truth. "You know nothing about the Horcrux; you know nothing about our forces and resources… This is such an unfair competition; but isn't that the way of life?"
Elend said nothing, he just observed the man who was now eyeing his many bookshelves. "There is nothing you can do against us," Raven continued. "Yet, you keep going after us as if nothing was lost. My past self would have laughed at your efforts very hard, but isn't that very similar to what I do? I am also fighting an impossible battle; the Titan Project will not succeed unless I am ready to take those steps no one before I could or dared to take."
Raven had always been a very cryptic man, but there were very few things that could make a man of his like to endanger himself so much. Until today, Elend had some suppositions about what could his reasons be to join Master Isaac's project. Now, it was a confirmed theory; the Unspeakable was working with the Order because he thought it would be the best way to finish the Titan Project.
"Why are you here?" Elend asked.
"I have my reasons to be here," Raven answered. "I will not share them with you, but it is not as if you could ask. Here, I am the one with the upper hand in the negotiations."
"What do you want to negotiate? You just said it yourself; I am the one losing."
"It is of my best interest if you do not win this war, but also, I obtain nothing from you getting obliterated by the Order of Merlin; that would only benefit Isaac the First."
"Does that even make sense?" Elend said with a dead voice. He was starting to get tired of the masked man's nonsense.
"It does," Raven nodded. "Take a seat and relax, Lord Shawn; I am going to tell you some things about me no one else knows. Despite what I have just said, it seems you are about to know some of my reasons to come here… I truly am a very determined man..."
"I did not know you were such a talkative man…"
"I am part of the Graves family," Raved started, completely ignoring his remark. "I do not mind telling you this information because I can not care less about what will you do with it; you can torture them as much as you want that I will not move a finger. Well, back to the important topic. We are not a very important family, just one of the many whose blood had been magical for generations. It is true my ancestor Gondulphus—despite having such a horrible name—was one of the twelve Original Aurors."
"I do not really care about that fact, to be honest," the masked man went on. "However, there have been certain ancestors of mine, both distant and recent, who worked in very important matters. In fact, I am sure you are quite fond of one of them; at least, that is what the book on your table lets me know."
"Lisa Graves, eh?" Elend said.
"The very same; probably, the most brilliant mind in the history of our family," Raven admitted. "However, not even Lisa could complete the Titan Project. There have been many Heads before me; some of them shared blood with me, others did not. But we all share the failure and many evil deeds."
"You think the best chance to complete the Titan Project is to study Herpo's original Horcrux," Elend guessed.
"That is correct," Raven nodded at him. "I could not care less about whether it is you or Isaac the one to die. If it was up to me, I would have the both of you kill each other after retrieving the Horcrux for me; sadly, that might be a bit too impossible."
"If you are here, it is because there is a third option, right?"
"That is also correct."
"Then, speak up and let's end this meeting."
"Every single decision I take is for the sake of my ambition," Raven explained. "Joining Isaac; creating the lame cult that follows me everywhere; sacrificing certain colleagues of mine; dealing with certain individuals who could turn into a threat… This is my last insanity, Lord Shawn. I want you to fight and defeat Isaac."
For a moment, Elend said nothing. He couldn't trust the masked man, no matter what the situation was. If they were alive, they could live to fight another day; if they could fight, they would not lose the final battle. Not when everything was on the line. Isaac and his men did not have such an important reason to fight.
"I know what you are thinking," Raven continued. "You will not trust my word. That is a wise decision, Lord Shawn, but you are the one losing a war. I do not care if you die and fail; sure, that will be a setback, but I would find another chance in the future. It is up to you; do you want a chance to defeat Isaac and get the Horcrux?"
I hate when the bastards I loathe are right… It was a decision that would surely affect them in a bad way in the near future, but it was that or losing without even fighting for it. "I am hearing you," Elend sighed in defeat.
"Forget the stupid Horcrux hunt," Raven proposed. "It is just a matter of time for Isaac to find it. That man is getting very valuable and precise information from some unknown source; so far, every guess has been correct. I am giving you the chance to fight them as soon as they find it. For you, is the chance to win the war; for me, is the chance to see how the two of you destroy each other. This will be my final bet, one in which I put everything on the line; one in which I will come out victorious."
"First, I will destroy the Oder of Merlin, and then, I will destroy you," Elend stated. The decision was already taken; he would go along with Raven's plan; he would take all his enemies down in one go.
The masked man tossed some kind of golden coin at him, which Elend summoned to his hand. There, looking right back at him, was Atlas, the Titan whose myth talked about him carrying the world on his shoulders; the emblem of the Titan Project. "As soon as I receive information of us being close to the Horcrux, the coin will shine with a blue gleam," Raven told him. "Then, for the moment of the assault, it will shine with a green gleam. That is my part of the alliance, the rest is up to you, Lord Shawn."
"You are in the middle of two great storms, Raven," Elend warned him. "I will play at your tune for the near future, but do not get it wrong, you will never put your hands on the Horcrux; the Titan Project will never be completed."
"A man does what he got to do," Raven said. "Even if you do not want to admit it, we are the same; two very ambitious men risking everything for their objective. But please, do not make those statements so carelessly. You do not know me, and I do not want that to change. I work under the shadow of those bigger men like Isaac or you are, yet, I will be the one to prevail here. Only one of us three will get the Horcrux; I hope you are ready for the future, Lord Shawn."
With that, the masked man left the room with a calm stride. The bastard also wants to experiment with the Horcrux… The mystery behind the Unspeakable's association with the Order of Merlin was now solved, but many more came with it. Was Raven working by himself or did he have some other powerful allies? Could this be a plan Isaac himself thought of?
Elend sat on the table and massaged his temples. It surprised him, but he wasn't tired the slightest. Instead, the masked man had awakened a forgotten fire inside of him; one of pride and rage. Did Raven really believe he could play with him as if he was one of his many pawns? Did Raven really believe his stupid motives were powerful enough to stop him?
"I survived the war against Voldemort," Elend whispered, a dark smile forming on his face. "Do you really think any of you stand a chance against me when everything is on the line?"
With renewed strength and motivation, the blond man stood up. If there was something he was sure of, that was the fact his son and friends would not live another war. That was his noblest and fairest reason to fight, but it wasn't the most important one. Elend wasn't ready to live another war; if that turned him into a selfish and coward man, so be it. It was always better to be that way than dead…
The final battle was approaching. It was time to hone his skills and magic back to perfection.