There she was, salivating in his essence and there he was, inside her, consumed by her. It was almost too real, the way she buried herself in his arms and him holding her tightly, fearing that she would slip away once again. His heart pulsated as she nibbled at his neck. It had been too long, he thought while simultaneously aggressively thrusting his cock inside her.
Heavens be damned, he was a doomed man.
"Lie down, relax a little," he suggested sheepishly. "Let me do the work."
She grinned. She always enjoyed things this way. His lips swept through her body, not leaving behind any nook or cranny.
"Oh Albus, how I enjoyed being adored by you."
This isn't real.
This isn't real.
This isn't real.
He shot up from his sleep. His bed was, to his embarrassment, wet yet again. His hands clutched. He was an idiot for retrieving the —
Something felt wrong.
"Revelio!"
His cabinet exploded, emanating beams of energy - and then proceeded to shrink and wither. Its wooden surface paling and its form shifting, shifting and shifting until it resembled more of a man. Albus bit the interior of his mouth with annoyance. With a wandless, wordless Petrificus Totalus, he quickly incapacitated the figure before him.
"Oh, not you…"
With another flick of the wrist, he reversed the charm.
"Albus Severus Potter, I don't care how much you have helped me in the past, you will get the hell away from my brother! If I find out you had touched a single hair, a single speck of dust on him, I will - I will - "
"Oh calm down Lawrence, you look like a haggard old criminal who's spent his last hour in an interrogation cell!" Albus interrupted. "What's happened to you since this afternoon? I thought I promised you I will from now on leave you and your family alone. Although, I must admit, your little brother joining the Aurors does mean there will be some difficulty in that."
"Look, you told me you were only looking to break into the Hogwart's library. Not once, once did you ever mention anything about the Ministry of Magic! Just what are you hiding from all of us?" Lawrence was fuming, his cheeks bright red.
"What in Merlin's diaper are you fumbling about?!"
"Well, to address your first question, I was being interrogated by Director Thunberg from the Auror department after my brother said something that was both dumb and unntrue! And you know, not once did I say anything! Nothing! I kept my word. I wont' say a single thing about you and you will leave me and my brother alone. Secondly, that was my brother you tried to kill at the Department of Mysteries! You-"
"One, thank you. Two, I was never at the Ministry of Magic. I met up with you at Hogsmeade this afternoon before you gallivanted off with our other ex Housemates, then I paid a small visit to my nephew at Hogwarts and that was it," Albus defended as his voice quieted. His brows furrowed as he realized just what this meant.
"You mean it?"
A cold nod.
"And this means…"
"This means someone else is in big trouble."
He saw Lawrence gulping. Was he really that scary?
~X~
Lily Luna Potter hasn't eaten for a day.
Listless, soulless, mechanically getting out of bed, calling sick to work and then slumping back into her bed covers. It was all too painful for her to bear, the thought that she had lost her brother forever, that she just wanted to sleep and wake up from this nightmare.
He had treated her like she was nothing, barely even mentioned that he missed her, barely even concerned about her own safety. After all these years, he treated her like a mere opponent, a target to be disposed of. Who is Albus Potter anymore? Had he really changed that much, had he really... Did she mean nothing to him? Was there anything that could have gone differently?
She felt like a failure. In truth, what was she even doing as an Auror, switching away from her successful stint at St Mungo's, all for what? She couldn't even bring her own brother back home.
Don wasn't answering her calls anymore - probably still sleeping or hungover. It had become instinctual, reaching out to him whenever she felt something was wrong with her life. She didn't even know why. They had stopped dating ages ago because everything had gotten so toxic and yet inextricably, they were drawn to each other time and time again when they were feeling down. Support buddies, perhaps?
This was madness, all of this. Her own thoughts were driving her mad, driving her into an abyss of despair. What was the point of it all? Everyone else had moved on, why couldn't she?
Lils, are you ok? Came a text from Cynthia. Neil said you called in sick.
She ignored it. What was the point of it all?
~X~
There are times when violent urges and impulses sweep through him. Albus knows not about their origins, nor how to dispel them. But then they fade into nothingness like the inexplicable void they came from. As if nothing had happened.
Too many times, panic coursed through his veins as he struggled to process these feelings. To dig a knife into someone's neck, to stab a cute little squirrel, to bite someone's ear off, to scream into someone's face, to snap someone's necks and wrists. There were moments when he dreamed about casting the Killing Curse on nameless figures. It was containable, yes, easily quarantined away from the rest of his mind and soul, but he feared these urges were getting more and more common the longer he remained in his current state. It gets easier and easier.
Perhaps killing only increases the urge to kill, or at least to maim. Humans were such savages.
"I would kill you, but what good would that do?" Albus found himself pondering out loud as his captive shivered before him.
A shaking voice trembling, the sound of shallow breathing. A man, gasping for air, clamoring, begging for his life, yet so resigned, so hopeless and so helpless. The ropes around him, searing with heat, tore into his flesh. His face shiny from sweat, coalescing into streams, cascading down his burnt and scorched flesh.
"Please... I... I was paid to do this..." Such terror. The absurdity of it all. It was like bad art. He had seen many poor imitators in his years working as a contractor in the black market.
They were all like this. They slipped into illegality one way or another - for family, for belief, for money, for stupidity... And they expected no repercussions. Perhaps he was not so different. His time for repercussions had not yet come.
"So let me get this clear. You pretended to be me, broke into the Department of Mysteries to steal secrets the Ministry of Magic has elected to conceal, threatened my sister and expect me to be okay with it?" He felt his voice rising. The thought of Lily being cornered and attacked made him awfully indignant.
"I had to do this for my family... They needed the money-"
"Well, what about mine?! How do you think I felt about you hurting and threatening my own sister?"
"... Well, for one, I actually see my wife and kids everyday- ouch, ouch... I get it... Sore point isn't it? That's why you had all the data burnt and destroyed... heh... Don't worry, I never saw anything... or did I? Didn't matter, the money was already on its way…"
"Who asked for this?"
He was met with silence.
"I don't want to ask again," Albus snarled. He was getting impatient.
"I'm sorry for impersonating you! You were the most valuable contractor on the market! I'd be able to make triple, quadruple of what I could have made if I went as myself!" The man had switched topic but one look into his mind and Albus concluded that this was not worth pursuing. Just some opportunist looking to make an extra buck.
Albus snorted and cast an Obliviator's Curse. He would leave the captive's body somewhere the Auror's could find and depart England by dawn.
~X~
Tapping his fingers on the desk, Neil shut his eyes as he contemplated the slate of events yesterday. Getting hungover, accidentally screwing over his brother with a dumb rumour, rushing to the scene, almost dying, dealing with Albus Potter, comforting his teammates, discovering more goons and criminals in a hotel... It was a lot.
Lily's desk was still empty. She had called in sick today but he wasn't surprised at all. He knew she probably wasn't really sick but it did not matter. He understood things from her perspective, the need for a breather, for a break from everything else in the world.
In truth, he was concerned, much like the rest of his team. She had refused to reply to any other messages and calls beyond contacting him about her sick leave.
"Neil... I'm worried about Lily. As in, I'm seriously concerned about her," Cynthia said, "What if this is the beginning of a spiral of depression for her? What if - what if she keeps calling sick in the future because of this-"
"Then we will have to manage without her, which will be difficult... Look, I'm with you on this... But I think we should give her at least a day without being bothered by the rest of her team. Sometimes it's important."
"Or having a negligent team could deprive an Auror of her best source of support," Cynthia rebutted flatly. "I... would know how it feels better than you."
Sighing, Neil was in no mood to counter her, not that he really disagreed with her on it either. Somehow, all the snarky quips that swarmed around his head had evaporated. "I know. I must have been hard."
Silence.
"It must have been hard to - to - re-adjust after…"
"Yeah. Had to see a therapist. Saw all my other colleagues get promoted, progressing, flourishing and I... I felt like shit."
"I'm sorry to hear, I hope it's all better now for you."
"Sort of. I no longer feel suicidal... I considered quitting the Aurors during my suspension, you know. Thought a different job would get everything off my mind. Applied for all sorts of things: retail, coffee shops, magical research, journalism, security contracting... all of them rejected me. Maybe my record or reputation or inability to get over myself impacted my chances. I couldn't exactly travel much either - restrictions from the ministry and all that. I was too embarrassed to see other people so I mostly kept to myself in my house. None of the rest of the team kept on contact with me either and my colleague, Thomas MacLaggen, who was promoted, kind of shut me out of his life. So when I could begin working again, you couldn't imagine how relieved I was... cautiously hopeful, perhaps. It's not bad these days."
"Cynthia," Neil felt compelled to say, "I know we haven't gotten along all the time... but if you ever feel the need to chat about this, just let me know. I might not be that helpful, but I can at least listen."
"Thanks."
"Really, I mean it."
~X~
It felt great to torch the man alive with Fiendfyre, he wasn't going to lie.
Today had been a particularly vile day. Being assaulted by criminal thugs in Paris hadn't been ideal so he ended up pursuing then, getting entangled in a wider gang shoot-out and taking the life of an especially disagreeable ringleader. Except it brought forth more problems... and opportunities that he didn't necessarily appreciate.
Hence why he was sitting before a French mobster wearing the most garish purple suit he had ever witnessed, hands clapping and elated at the scene of death and torture. Somehow the guy spoke in a British accent - must have been a British wizard in France then - and he kept rambling, rambling and rambling about how much he had heard about Albus. "Brilliant! Just as I expected! Sensational!"
"Are you okay?" Albus corked an eyebrow - it was really quite hard to suppress. "After all, I just killed one of your men. His burnt, crispy corpse is literally right there."
"Oh Jacques and I were having a feud, he was very possibly trying to organize a coup against me and you bumped into him at the perfect time and place..." The man waived off the questions with a whiff of nonchalance.
"Too perfect," Albus remarked. "Sounds almost... orchestrated."
"Oh don't say that! You make me sound like a bad person!" He flung his arms up high
.
"Right, of course not. It was great meeting you, I'm glad my unfortunate scuffle leaves no bad blood between us," Albus said curtly as he stood up and headed towards the door.
"Hang on! Don't leave just yet!" With a flick of his wand, the door was bolted. "Apologies, I don't want to antagonize you, Albus, only a fool would do that, but rather, I would like to leave you with ... an offer."
"I'm not interested," Albus said as he took out his wand and was about to unlock the door in front of him. It was always the same, they would ask him to do them a favour, capture a person or two, run an errand for some nice cash - not this time though. Gangs were more difficult than individuals, they came with other entanglements too and he was feeling rather...uninterested, to say the least.
"I can give you what you want, Albus," the man insisted. "And it's only a small thing you'll need to do in return."
"You don't know what I want." Alohamora, he whispered.
"A chance, Albus, I can give you a second chance-"
"That's not what I want," Albus interjected bluntly. But there was a tingling sensation throughout his back. Could the man really mean - no. No one knew. Classical act of bluffing.
"All this contracting, this mercenary-like state of existence... It must be very tiring for you, Albus. Don't you ever long for the days when you were just an ordinary and upstart Auror? You could have been in your father's place now, had you stayed…"
"You don't know that."
"Oh but I do. Everyone's heard of it. Everyone thought you would eventually replace him, such-"
"There's nothing you can offer me and before you're going to elaborate, I'm not interested in whatever cause or creed you guys are into either."
"I'm not asking you to believe in my cause, Albus Potter. I'm just asking you to make a deal with me."
"Have a nice day Monsieur Tabot," he replied brusquely before turning away. He had heard of the rumors of the man standing before him. Perhaps he could have said yes, perhaps he could have bargained for something — but he was in a particularly foul mood today.
"I have a powerful time turner... the last of them! If you ever want to contact me again... the offer is still on the table!" The man called behind him frantically as Albus quickly rushed away from the lair, like a sailor resisting the tempting sound of a siren.
~X~
The aftermath of the Ministry break-in was an unprecedented public fallout for Hermione Granger's government, exceeding the worst of Albus' initial banishment. It did not matter that subsequent reports indicated that the intruder was not even Albus Potter, but an imposter. It did not matter that the intended object of retrieval was ultimately returned, under mysterious circumstances undisclosed by the Auror department. It did not matter that the captured intruders ultimately led the Aurors to a crime cell in Wales, which was swiftly dismantled.
All that mattered was that in the eyes of the public, the most dangerous man in the 21st century had escaped the clutches of the Aurors and the Ministry yet again.
Rumours flared up once. Some believed that there was a deliberate cover-up intended to save face and mask the general incompetence pervading the Aurors. Some believed that the authorities were deliberately downplaying the level of threat facing the public. Some believed that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had deliberately colluded to ensure Albus' escape - and this segment of the population, though a small vocal minority, was increasing. No one believed in the government's justifications.
There were protests in Diagon Alley, enraged witches and wizards demanding to know the truth. Opposition parties were openly calling for a general inquiry into the matter. There were calls to declassify secrets. Hermione's government was down in the polls and barely survived a no-confidence vote from her own disgruntled backbenchers.
Neil eyed all of this with frustration. It all seemed wrong - not simply by virtue of actually being wrong, but also because it seemed so planned, orchestrated by higher powers. There was something distinctly off about the way events unfolded, but he could not quite put a finger on it. Nothing made sense at all.
In fact, nothing made sense since the day he found an obliviated individual dumped right before the Auror Department, holding the very scroll that the intruders tried to steal the day before. No note, no notice, no nothing. On a personal level, all the blame on him (for being irresponsible and inebriated) was undone. Director MacLaggen was no longer scolding him and he no longer felt like shit for being responsible for the leak of state secrets. Cynthia sincerely appreciated his actions and helpful comments - they were in a much more amicable state.
At the same time, the world around him was in turmoil. Lily was still depressed and reportedly not eating well. Tobias was hospitalized - and temporarily replaced by Thomas MacLaggen at the orders of Harry Potter, which did not please Cynthia. Morrison was ... still Morrison, but also Morrison the conspiracy theorist who constantly sprouted rumours he overheard about the break-in being an inside job. ("I'm not suggesting that someone in the Ministry did it, but …")
And his relationship with his brother, Lawrence, had descended into tatters.
Firstly, Lawrence did not appreciate being referred to an intense interrogation session by Director Thunberg.
Secondly, Neil did not appreciate his brother concealing crucial information about Albus Potter from him. Lawrence was evading questions about Albus and about what he was doing the after at Hogsmede - he was not even meant to be at Hogsmede, for Lawrence had drawn the short end of the stick and was designated with looking after their great-great-grandmother for the day. But that small slip of a tongue... He knew something was off. His brother was decent at Occlumency and at resisting interrogation. That much he was aware of. But these small signs, and simple intuition by Neil's part, suggested that not everything was as it seems.
Something had to be done. The path to truth lies through his brother - or his brother's fellow classmates. Every guy in Slytherin in Albus' graduating class - or at least most of them - were partially suspect. Neil used to remember the days Lawrence would bring all his friends home for holidays from Hogwarts. They were all die-hard, raucous party-goers back in the day and would drink themselves shitless until all the portraits in their house complained about the noise and great-great-great grandma threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on them, after which they would sheepishly scuttle away to some bar outside (Lawrence had insisted they were merely "pre-gaming") and return home 5 in the morning. Albus was among them, Neil recalled. Once upon a time, that guy had barfed on the carpet.
There were people in other year groups among them, now that Neil thought about it, which meant he had to expand the list of names to other potential sources and suspects.
Digressions aside, Neil was now standing in front of a giant whiteboard, with the names of various individuals and lines connecting them mapped out, a convoluted web of illegality, dancing around Albus Potter. He had to have accomplices, witting or unwitting.
"But we don't know if the individual breaking in is Albus Potter at all," Cynthia said as she strolled in, gazing at Neil's notes. "Look all the evidence we have so far, the DNA testing of the intruders' blood, all of that... the person was pretending to be Albus! Neil, you've got to stop... I mean, not that I don't want to capture Albus, but it genuinely appears that he had nothing to do with the break-in."
"See that's what the government wants you to believe," Morrison conjecture as he strolled in. "I'm not saying that this has to be true but it's conceivable that they faked-"
"Morrison, I did NOT fake the unconscious body OR the scroll he was holding. For the last time, stop making shit up. Merlin's pants! This is serious-" Neil wanted to explode.
"Alright, alright... So... we're going to tell Lily, right? And try to comfort her and get her out of her current state. I mean, she's not been at work for the last couple of days, even if she knows by the news that it probably even wasn't Albus that attacked her-"
"Because of people like you spreading shitty conspiracy theories!" Neil retorted.
"I was only playing devil's advocate."
"Whilst unintentionally being the Devil himself," Cynthia snorted with rebuke. "Neil and I are planning to visit her. We're bringing chocolate and flowers. If you don't stop with all that nonsense then count yourself out."
"Alright, alright…"
Neil sighed, sagging his shoulders.
"What's the matter boss - woah that's a nice detailed map you got there... quite incriminating too, against your fellow housemates!"
"Will you shut up-"
"Not that I don't find him annoying, Neil, but what's your reasoning behind all of this?" Cynthia inquired, her brows furrowing.
"I... I have a feeling that Albus Potter was in England that day - and no, Morrison, he wasn't the one who orchestrated the break-in, but perhaps he was the one who finally caught the intruder. And before any of you say anything, I have with me a list of cases of attacks on our own Aurors," Albus explained as he pulled out a large folder. Waving his wand, sheets of paper floated around the room. "In every case where an Auror has failed to track down Albus Potter, he or she has had their recent memories wiped and, well, dumped at convenient places easy for authorities to locate. (It used to be much more common— until they, I mean, we, basically stopped trying.) This was exactly the same thing that happened to that guy."
He paused to gauge the reactions of his two team members, who were frowning a little. "This sounds like a bit of stretch," Cynthia mused.
"Yes, but what's more is that my brother," Neil said as he pointed his wand to his brother's name," was at Hogsmede for Alumni Day. Now, he was supposed to be looking after our great-great-great-grandmother, but she was conspicuously asleep the entire day - and the day after, a likely reaction to a Sleeping Potion-"
"A) Are you suggesting your own brother was responsible for Albus' activities? and B) couldn't Lawrence have just wanted to chill with his friends? I mean, no one wants to spend Alumni Day with their ancient relative who is probably a grade A bigot."
"Yes, Morrison, that is the other possibility," Neil conceded. "And I know I'm making speculations based on spurious evidence and partly intuition, really. This is why I don't want any of you sharing anything with our superiors just yet. I don't want Director MacLaggen or, Merlin forbid, Director Thunberg, to get involved because that would really complicate things."
"So what's your plan?" Cynthia asked.
"I'm going to ask them myself."
~X~
Fear and guilt twirled around him like nefarious twin spirits, threatening to engulf him and cause him to plunge into panic. It took a few days for Nigel to digest just how serious his rendezvous with Uncle Albus was. He was stupid, he read the papers and he was not numb to all the surrounding chatter.
First, there was talk that Albus Potter broke into the Ministry of Magic and stole important documents. Then, the announcements were changed to reveal that the said intruder was actually an imposter. Then the furor, fear and backlash.
"I hope the incompetent Hermione Granger is voted out of office! Mum says she was decent when she first became Minister but she's growing increasingly out of touch!"
"Seriously, why are we skirting around the issue that Albus Potter is probably the most dangerous criminal the Wizarding World has witnessed since You-Know-Who? People these days are blind to the problem!"
"The Ministry needs to stop covering up for its mistakes — the people are not idiots!'
"Do they take us for fools? That's a really convenient location for a body to be dumped! Right in front of the ministry! Really! This is beyond insulting to our intelligence!"
"Harry Potter is really letting his love for his own son blind him! Let me tell you what should be done: immediate capture of Albus Potter and a life sentence to Azkaban!"
Being mindful that his family's reputation was at stake, Nigel somehow developed the ability to avoid critical questions.
He knew what people were saying about Uncle Albus. That other day, when Sophie had gathered a bunch Ravenclaws together in the Common Room to narrate her perspective of what occurred. "My father was hospitalized for weeks after a failed mission to retrieve Albus Potter and let me tell you, he does not mince his words when describing that man. According to him, Albus Potter had no problem with using all sorts of dark spells and murdered over one hundred people in the course of his life. Apparently, on the night of his escape — yes that night when we were all alerted about the Sons of Walpurgis — Albus Potter murdered his best friend and fiancé. There are some Aurors that even believe he was working for the Sons of Walpurgis the whole time. And I'm not even surprised!"
It was frustrating because he knew it was all false and yet he was too afraid to speak up, to challenge her. One because Sophie was an upperclassman with considerable clout, two because she was also friends with many of his friends and three because he did not want to be ostracized or arouse suspicion amongst his housemates. So he played along. But it did hurt. Nigel remembered that night when Uncle Albus came into his house all haggard and exhausted.
"It's just… I never thought this would happen to him. Dad said he never saw it coming," Nigel mumbled to his friends after an intense night-long conversation about current affairs.
"Not many did," Karen remarked with a hint of sympathy and understanding, "I know it must have been hard for your family."
"It was," Nigel conceded, frantically concealing his own conflicted views. Uncle Albus had always been nice to him and when they met again, he had given him tons of candy and seemed like a genuinely nice person. Part of him still wanted to tag along and travel the world.
"I hope there's no repeat of well, the Second Wizarding War," said Conrad, "Not that I think it's likely—"
"It absolutely is," Marius, another Ravenclaw First-Year, challenged him. "There are still many that covertly support You-Know-Who's ideals, that's why the Sons of Walpurgis gained so many supporters in the first place. Many old pureblood families — obviously not yours or yours"— he felt the need to assure Conrad and Nigel—"feel disgruntled by their loss of status in society. With the right kind of leader and figurehead, who knows what could happen. Which is why I instantly harbor a sense of distrust towards Slytherins, no offense Dorothea, not you of course."
"How's the talk like in your dormitory, Dorothea?" Conrad prodded, curious, though mildly insensitive towards how it might have come across.
Dorothea still enjoyed lingering in the Ravenclaw common from time to time, although those occurrences had become more scarce. These days, Nigel would often spot her hanging out with his cousin Maggie and a bunch of Third-Years. Dorothea ditched her glasses for contact lenses and started wearing shampoo that made her red hair smell like lavender. Nigel even caught her wearing eye-liner a couple of days ago.
"Not much," Dorothea said and after being met with silence, reassured, "I'm serious! Though Maggie says Analenna told her that Albus Potter probably did break into Hogwarts and was spotted in the Forbidden Forest. No idea how she knows though."
"Well," Sophia chimed in, "We can all probably guess why."
"Mum says Analenna's parents were pretty good friends with uncle," Nigel remarked. His mother liked to gossip a lot, however, so he wasn't sure how true this had to be but he also did know that his mother and father used to be pretty close with Uncle Albus too.
"I am not saying — well, I mean, Ana said her father said that Albus Potter actually protected his family from the Sons of Walpurgis when they refused to join it. But Albus Potter was too rough with his methods and the Aurors didn't like what he was doing so they banished him. Said they should be more grateful about what he had done." Dorothea immediately regretted speaking those words as Sophia and Marius glared at her suspiciously. "I'm — I'm only reporting on what she said."
"Ana's the girl you and Maggie hang out with, right? The one with blond pigtails?" Nigel asked, trying to divert the course of conversation. Dorothea was looking very uncomfortable and he was afraid that too much of an unpleasant experience would result in his friend no longer wanting to visit the Ravenclaw living quarters.
"Yeah, she lets me use her perfumes too — I like her — I expected her to be a lot meaner. You know, she had, like, a resting bitch face when we first met and all, but she's pretty fun to be with—" Oh Merlin, Nigel thought, she was already beginning to sound like Maggie.
"Hang on a minute, folks, lets stay on topic," Conrad interjected. "This good friend of yours, are you saying that she heard Albus Potter had indeed sneaked into Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest — and sympathized with him?"
"I—" Dorothea tried to explain herself again.
"I don't think there was actually a break-in," Yiannis said, much to Nigel's relief. "I was… er… looking at your Maurander's Map earlier that night — sorry for not asking, Conrad's frequent examination of it and curiosity finally rubbed off me — and no such name cropped up. You know, it was supposed to show literally everyone on Hogwarts grounds. Heck, didn't it even spot Animagi back in your grandpa's day? It was probably just a false alarm."
"Whatever, I'm leaving. I have lots of homework to do," Sophia announced as she got up. Her friends followed her. Marius did too, for he was getting tuition tips on History of Magic from the upperclassmen. The suspicions were still not dispelled, Nigel could tell from the tone of her voice.
When it was just the five friends again — Nigel, Yiannis, Conrad, Karen and Dorothea — Nigel panted a sigh of relief. He debated over whether to say something. Anything. The secret rendezvous with his uncle weighing heavily in his heart.
"Phew," Dorothea sighed. "They were so aggressive and intent," she continued commenting. "Made me feel like I was guilty by some sort of vicarious association."
"Don't worry about that," Nigel reassured her. "None of us think you are. This is a stupid topic anyway."
"Stupid topic? Not to be rude or anything but when historians look back, this whole furore surrounding him is probably going to be an important chapter of events pertaining to this generation and era," Conrad remarked, mildly incredulous.
"In what way? Uncle Albus may have made mistakes but he's not some Dark-Lord wannabe or Dark Wizard. All these rumors in the papers are a bit ridiculous and you guys know it!" Nigel inadvertently blurted out. He was thankful the other Ravenclaws had left their corner.
"Well, we get he's your family but—"
"No, Conrad, of course he is, but it's not just that. There have been people in the past who were accused of things they didn't do and were mistaken as being associated with the Dark and—"
"You're not seriously comparing your uncle to, say, Sirius Black, right? Nigel, you're normally of sound mind—"
"I don't know," Nigel rebutted. "I… I just think we don't know and we should be a little more open-minded."
"That's kind of what I was getting at earlier," Dorothea chimed in. "The story about him killing those thirteen Muggles in Amsterdam turned out to be false— there's a lot of exaggeration. Ana says the papers should focus on things that are actually relevant instead of their usual Potter obsession. "
"Okay, hang on a second, you are not suggesting that Albus Potter was innocent and the papers, the Aurors and, you know, every respectable pillar in the Wizarding World was wrong and this random girl in your house — known for its association and sympathy to Dark Wizards and Witches — was right?" Karen exclaimed. "You too Nigel, I—"
"No of course not! All I'm saying is that some people hold different perspectives!" Dorothea had jumped into the defensive before Nigel could come up with something reasonable to say. "Also what the heck was that dig about sympathy to Dark Wizards and Witches?! Karen, you're smarter than this!"
"I'm—" Karen looked a bit angry and was almost about to pull out her wand.
"Guys," Yiannis stood up and offered everyone a chocolate frog to calm the tensions, "Please, let's keep our discussion civil." He shot an understanding glance at Nigel, who nodded back. Conrad and Karen were feeling very agitated, Nigel was feeling defensive, while Dorothea sensed she was being unfairly attacked. The task of diffusing the mess fell to Yiannis.
"Nigel," Karen grumbled, "I look you but you're probably wrong on this one."
"Yeah," Conrad nodded, "But it's useless to keep debating about this. We'll have to agree to disagree."
Nigel proposed a game of Exploding Snap, which they all agreed to and hours within that, all the negativity had dissipated. But something unpleasant lingered over Dorothea, Nigel noticed.
When everyone was headed to bed, Yiannis pulled Nigel aside. "I saw the postcards," the guy admitted. "They were lying on your bedsheets earlier when I went back to get my books for Charms."
"How - what—"
"Someone must have gone through your drawers," Yiannis said.
"Yiannis, I— yes. Those were my postcards."
"Don't worry, Nigel, I believe you. Your secret's safe with me."
"Yiannis… thank you."
"No worries. I understand why you feel the way you feel. I'm close to my uncle too. Conrad and Karen will eventually come around too. They're feeling bit agitated, probably as an after-shock. But they're open-minded people. They'll understand too. "
Nigel nodding, feeling grateful. He almost wanted to tell his friend that there was indeed a break-in and that he had actually met up with his uncle, yet decided against that for now, though perhaps not forever. He hugged Yiannis. "Thanks Yiannis."
Nonetheless, before they could speak further, both froze in realization. "But… You said you found them lying on my bed? I usually put my postcards inside my trunk."
"Sweet Merlin, who else knows?"
~X~
She had locked herself up for over a week now and had no intention of listening to the news or stepping into the outside world. Work was taken care of by the fact that she was entitled to a month's paid leave per year anyway, courtesy to welfare legislation passed by her aunt.
A knock on her door.
"Lily? Is this Lily? This is Cynthia, Neil and Morrison! You haven't been to work for over a week and we're worried for you! You haven't been picking up calls or replying to texts either. We got you flowers and chocolate!"
Great.
She wished she could somehow convey it to them that all the lack of contact was deliberate. She did not wish to speak to them. In fact, she was in no mood to speak to anyone, James and his concerns be damned.
"Lily we know you're in there!" Morrison bellowed. "Take your time! We're in no rush!"
"For the last time, stop making her seem like a bad person if she's not answering," Lily could hear Neil's didactic voice lecturing the two of them, "She's going through a rough period and is entitled to take some rest."
"Lily you don't have to open the door or meet us today, but if you ever need to talk, we'll be here for you!" Cynthia shouted.
"That and your brother Albus probably even wasn't the person who attacked us in the Ministry," Morrison continued bellowing on the topic of his voice, "Ouch! Cynthia stop ribbing me! Ouch! Neil — boss, don't try to smack me — ouch—"
Lily's felt something drop inside of her. She rushed towards the door. "I'm listening," she said, huffing and puffing, facing three concerned teammates.
"See? That did the work!" Morrison bragged, puffing his chest.
"Morrison is right," Neil explained. "The attacker likely transfigured into Albus Potter. His unconscious body, along with the scroll capsule he was trying to steal, were found outside the Ministry by me. So that means the person who tried to attack you and kill all of us wasn't your brother."
Lily sighed and shut her eyes. This was supposed to relieve her, but the very fact that she found Albus behaving so violently a plausible scenario unnerved her. "I'm sorry I need some time to process this." She paused. "Then, what exactly happened? Is he innocent then?"
"Well, of the Ministry break-in, probably. Anyways, that's not what I came here for, but I hope you're doing okay…" Neil felt his voice trail off. She obviously wasn't. Her red hair was unkempt, her eyes were bloodshot, possibly from crying, her T-shirt had tea, coffee, hot chocolate, soup leftovers spilled all over it.
"I'm fine. You guys can come in," Lily offered. "It appears there's more that we can talk about than anticipated."
~X~
"I've been… trying to work out all the connections, all the loose strings… it's all coming together, somehow," Neil explained, trying to search for the right words.
"It's all speculation, of course," Morrison noted.
"Yes, yes, but it's better than nothing and … ah shit! My parents are calling! Fuck! I feel like I forgot something…." Neil's voice trailed off warily as he frantically checked all his past unread text messages. "Fuck, I'm supposed to look after great-great-great gran…"
"The racist one?" Morrison said with a chuckle.
"Yes, that one."
~X~
Thomas MacLaggen was not happy about his temporary placement, though he sensed something similar would happen for a long time coming. Tobias would be hospitalized for more than a month due to the Cruciatus Cruse worsening his Maladictus-like symptoms. And Harry Potter was keen for him to firstly, keep track of Cynthia's progress, and secondly, he suspected, to keep a watch over Lily Potter.
He had not been fully introduced to the team yet because he was off in Europe for a security conference, but as he stepped through the immigration check-in, he wondered if not offering a stronger pushback against Head Auror Potter's insistence was a mistake.
~X~
Neil always hated spending time with his great-great-great (it was hard to keep track) grandmother Primrose Nott. Firstly because she was a bigot of the highest order who continuously complained about Muggles and Muggleborns, which made him feel like a bad person by association. Secondly, because it seemed that she never had anything nice to say about anyone whatsoever.
The Potters and Weasleys were, naturally, blood traitors and a deathblow to Wizardkind. Hogwarts was filled with left-wing nonsense and educating a new generation of blood traitors. Durmstrang, however, produced too many unstable and unintelligent idiots who were simply not up to the task of restoring the Wizarding World to its former grandeur. Mother and father are soft-brained airheads whose decadence was representative of the general decline of the Wizarding World. Lawrence was a mediocre pothead masquerading as a teacher who, again, was doing his part to consign the Wizarding race to the dustbin of history. The Malfoys were blood-sucking bankers and sellouts and blood-traitors now, apparently. The Lestranges, however, were too crazy and stupid for their own good. Her long-deceased husband Cantankerous Nott was a hypocrite who fulminated about blood-purity in public but privately entertained "little Muggle whores." Not even the former Dark Lord was spared for her incriminations, or as she would say, "That fraudulent little weasel of a half-blood… "
Hence why he groaned as he stepped into his old family home, ascending the stairs into her dusty little room. He used to always drew lots with Lawrence, as none of them wanted to look after her and their parents' patience can only last so long. Then they came up with more creative ways of determining who spends time with her, including broom racing, ice-cream eating, Wizard chess and creating 'viral' cat videos on this muggle thing called YouTube. Except now Lawrence was gone, off to America perhaps forever and also not on speaking terms with him anymore after a gratuitous session of both of them hurling vulgar verbal abuses at each other. Life was hard. His brother had complained that his connections and relationship with Albus Potter essentially saved their entire family from both being attacked by the Sons of Walpurgis and being suspected collaborators of the Sons of Walpurgis and that he had barely spoken with Albus Potter after the fiasco at the Ministry and certainly not during the day of recent break-in. ("But you guys communicated…." — "Once! Okay maybe twice! I had to at least thank him!") It was pointless.
"Hi gran, sorry I'm late, I was at my friend's house and forgot about the time. Mom called me and I rushed here right away—"
"With that vile muggle device?"
"I mean, yeah with the mobile phone—"
"Wizardkind is doomed."
"Whatever you say, gran."
"Did you know, your cousin — that idiot Vacillius — tried to escape from prison again? I told him a long time ago there's no point in saving us purebloods anymore. Soon there will be none left."
"Alright then. I mean, purebloods were never a majority even in the Middle Ages—"
"Nonsense! Is that what they teach you at Hogwarts?"
"No, I, ugh, read and research—"
"You need to read better!"
"Okay gran."
"Tell me, are you seeing anyone?"
"I see people every day."
"No, I meant a girl! A wonderful pureblood girl who would bear me wonderful great-great-great pureblood grandchildren! Even if it's a mere drop in the ocean of this… this filthy cauldron of barbarity."
"No."
"Pity."
"She'll come when she comes. I have other focuses."
"What with that dastardly organization known as the Aurors?"
"Yes."
"Ah, I've seen the furor. It's a load of nonsense! There's no way that Potter-son is a Dark Lord or terrorist or criminal. Anyone with brains could tell! He's far too full of himself to be dangerous."
"Have you met him?"
"Not really. Your brother brought him home once and he threw up on my precious carpet."
"Okay gran. Anyways, then how would you know—"
"I was just speculating. And I'm always right."
"No, you were not right about Voldemort—"
"Oh but I was! I knew he would fail and I never supported the Death Eaters!" She exclaimed matter-of-factly. Neil found it bizarre. "What, a half-blood leading an organization promoting the existence of purebloods, it was never going to work!"
"Sure, sure…" He mumbled, not wanting to start another aimless argument. Morrison would have found this all very amusing.
"Besides, he dabbled in some very Dark Magic. And by Dark Magic, I don't mean the ridiculous restrictions and standards set by the dastardly imbecilic governments in recent times — no. This… He crossed the line for many who would otherwise whole-heartedly support the cause. Although I must confess, I never knew about this until after he died."
"Oh? What kind of magic is off-limits even for you?" Neil lifted his eyebrow. " I've seen you use the Killing Curse on spiders and flies without batting an eye just because they annoyed you—"
"They were spiders and flies! Besides… that was once! Once! And your mother and father thought I was insane afterwards. Nonsense! No— no, I am, of course, speaking about a Horcrux."
"A Horcrux? What is that?"
"Oh, the dim mind of the young generation. Never mind that, it's the one thing that I'm happy about you lot not knowing. They're terrible, foul things borne from murder but also profoundly unnatural… You kill someone and encase your torn soul in an object. And he's made seven of those apparently!"
"Horcruxes, you say?"
"Yes, do you need me to repeat that word ten-thousand times. Anyways, best if you forget it. It's not worth knowing. You know, I reckon that the new aspiring Dark Lord, the one your idiotic cousin was following, was trying to make one too— Kept asking your cousin to look for important rare objects. Such a stupid idea—"
"YES!" Neil felt as if he had stumbled upon something important. "The new one— you mean the head of the Sons of Walpurgis?"
"Well, yes—"
"The one whose identity was still unknown."
"Unknown and likely unimportant. This Dark Lord was even more useless than the last—"
"Eureka!"
"— couldn't even take over the Ministry."
"Alright, alright, I see. Anyways, I think I'll get some biscuits from downstairs for both of us. Love you gran!"
"Well that's a first." She looked piqued and amused at the same time.