Chapter 41
"Is it here?" Amelia asked nervously.
Even if it wasn't, there was something distinctly eerie about the cavern they found themselves in, and there was undeniably traces of magic in the air.
Harry nodded grimly as he drew his wand.
"It's here," he murmured as he began inspecting the rocky wall, pausing as he came to a section near the far end. "Same old tricks, Tom."
Without warning, he pulled the tip of his wand across the palm of his hand and rubbed the dripping wound onto the rock.
Amelia looked on curiously as a large, illuminated archway formed, and Harry took a moment to heal the cut before proceeding through it.
"Keep your wits about you," he urged. "I'm not expecting anything different from the last time I was here, but you never know with him."
Amelia nodded her understanding, her own grip tightening around her wand.
She'd only witnessed flashes of this place whilst viewing Harry's memories.
For the most part, she remembered only gouts of fire, and the oddly unmoving lake laid out before them.
"How are your fire spells?" Harry asked.
"Better than most."
"Good, because you're probably going to need them," he replied with a humourless chuckle as he seemingly snatched something out of the air.
It was a chain, and when he tapped it with his wand, it began coiling into a large pile in front of them.
A moment later, a small boat bumped into the bank, and Harry held up a hand to prevent Amelia from climbing in.
"What is it?" she asked.
He said nothing for a moment as he closed his eyes and nodded knowingly.
"The magic here will only allow one of us to cross," he explained. "Fortunately, I have something that will negate it."
Amelia watched as Harry removed a ream of silvery fabric from within his robes and looked upon it fondly.
"An invisibility cloak?" she asked.
He nodded, a grin tugging at his lips.
"This is a very special invisibility cloak," he said cryptically. "I'll tell you about it when we are not in mortal peril."
"Mortal peril?"
"Whenever Tom Riddle is involved, there is always an element of mortal peril," Harry said amusedly. "I thought you would understand that by now."
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him as he smirked and shook her head.
"What now?" she sighed.
"You take the boat," Harry instructed, "but whatever you do, do not touch the water. We don't want to disturb what is in there until we have to."
"What is in there?" Amelia asked.
"I'm sure you will see them."
With that, he vanished within the folds of the cloak, and Amelia carefully climbed into the rickety boat, which began silently moving through the still water.
It was when she was around halfway across that she chanced a glance over the side and recoiled in horror.
Just below the surface, she'd seen a deathly pale figure gliding only a few inches below her, and she was certain there had been more than one.
"That wasn't funny!" she huffed as she climbed out of the boat when it came to a stop.
"I know, but I wanted you to experience the same thing I did when I first came here."
Amelia scowled at the man.
"Any other surprises?"
Whatever amusement Harry had felt at her expense all but vanished from his expression as he nodded.
"There are hundreds of those things, and they will attack us sooner or later, but not until the water is disturbed."
"Then we won't disturb it."
Harry offered her a sad smile.
"That is inevitable," he murmured as he shifted his attention towards a roughly hewn plinth of sorts.
"What is that?" Amelia asked, peering at the greenish liquid contained within the bowl sitting atop.
"An unpleasant potion," Harry sighed. "This stuff makes the cheap beer in Knockturn Alley look as though it is the finest champagne."
"What does it do?"
"It makes someone relive their worst memories," Harry explained. "It torments you until you can no longer bear it and beg for death."
The sounded deeply harrowing, but as Amelia raised her wand to attempt to vanish it, Harry placed a hand on her wrist and shook his head.
"It can't be vanished, changed, or neutralised in any way," he explained. "The Horcrux is at the bottom of the bowl, and the potion must be drunk. It cannot be cheated."
"Are you sure?"
Harry nodded.
"Riddle designed it this way so that it won't kill someone, but it will incapacitate them. He would want to know how his secret was discovered. Fortunately, I have you with me to make sure that doesn't happen," he added with a smile, conjuring a large goblet. "Whatever happens, I have to drink all of it," he said firmly. "No matter how much I beg and plead, it all has to go."
He was serious, and Amelia wasn't certain she could go along with it.
Before she could voice her reluctance, however, Harry took her hand in his own and offered her a reassuring smile.
"It will be fine," he promised. "Together, remember? This is my turn."
Although she was not happy about it, Amelia swallowed deeply and nodded her agreement.
Without further preamble, Harry dipped the goblet into the potion and raised it to his lips.
"Bottoms up," he chuckled before draining it.
He repeated the feat another two times before his eyes suddenly widened, and the cup clattered to the floor as he fell to his knees.
"No," he groaned pitifully, reaching for someone who wasn't there.
Amelia could only look on in horror as Harry began to convulse, whimpering and murmuring incoherently.
She heard him mention his mother, his father, and Sirius, and as he looked towards her imploringly, a tear escaped from the corner of his eye.
Seeing him cry spurred Amelia into action, and she refilled the goblet, hating herself for doing so as she all but forced him to continue drinking the hellish brew.
"It's alright, Harry," she whispered, encouraging him to finish the cup.
"Please, make it stop," he begged hoarsely.
Going against her instincts to get them both out of there, Amelia fetched another cup of potion.
"Here, this will help," she assured him.
Harry shook his head but opened his mouth for her to pour it in, and Amelia's own tears stung her eyes as she did so.
She'd endured some truly horrific things over the past several years, but nothing came close to comparing to this. She would happily endure the Cruciatus Curse to see Harry's misery end, and yet, she pressed on, feeding him cup after cup of the potion.
"Just one more," she choked.
The last of the concoction only filled the goblet halfway, and when she forced Harry to swallow it, he collapsed silently and unmoving.
For a moment, Amelia thought he was dead, but he yet breathed, albeit shallowly.
"Water," he croaked weakly.
She snatched up the discarded goblet and pointed her wand towards it.
The water she filled it with faded, and Amelia frowned.
"Water," Harry gasped again.
Once more, she tried to fill the goblet, and then the realisation hit her.
As she looked towards the water surrounding them, it became clear why Harry said that disturbing it would be inevitable.
He continued to beg, and Amelia could not listen to him so distraught any longer.
Bracing herself for what was to come, she bent over the edge, and scooped up a goblet of the cold water, quickly feeding it to Harry as a loud splashing echoed around the cave.
Turning back to where she'd been only a few seconds prior, Amelia's eyes widened at the sight of the corpses bearing down on her.
With Harry now silent and unmoving, she raised her wand and unleashed a gout of fire, encircling herself and Harry to protect them from the inferi.
Amelia had only ever read about such things, and not in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would be faced with them. Then again, she never thought she would find herself in such strange circumstances as she was now.
The smell of seared flesh was nauseating, to say the least, but she continued with her efforts, looking on in morbid fascination as the reanimated bodies faltered in their attack and breathed a sigh of relief as another wave of fire joined her own.
Harry looked pale and haunted by what he'd endured to get them this far, but his wand remained steady in his hand, and with a reassuring nod, he doubled his efforts, eliciting screams of agony and anger as they incinerated the remaining inferi.
When she was certain there were no more stragglers, she ended the spell, and the heavily breathing Harry gestured towards the plinth.
Within it, at the very bottom, sat an ornate gold locket.
"Levitate it," Harry wheezed. "You don't want to touch it if you can help it."
Amelia did so, idly wondering how something so seemingly innocuous could be so dangerous, but she was no expert on such things.
"I've got it," she informed Harry, having placed it in her bag.
He nodded and offered her a weak smile before taking her by the hand.
Only a moment later, they were back in the entrance hall of his house, and Amelia allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.
It had been a deeply unpleasant experience and not one she was keen to repeat, though she knew they would likely be doing so in the near future.
"What do you need?" she asked.
Harry shook his head.
"You can always strip me down and bathe me if you're offering to help," Harry chuckled, grinning at her from his spot on the floor.
Amelia rolled her eyes at him.
"You're clearly not feeling so bad," she sighed amusedly, pleased to see the colour returning to him.
"I've had worse," he replied tiredly. "Should I take that as a no?"
Amelia shook her head, unable to fight the urge to smile at his cheek.
"Shut up, Harry," she huffed, slapping his grasping hand away good-naturedly.
(Break)
Gellert was not accustomed to receiving so many visitors.
Over the years, until Harry Jameson had come, only two others had graced him with their presence, and given that he was certain Albus had not taken to wearing high heels, there was only one person who could be approaching his cell now.
What was baffling, however, was the second pair of footsteps he could hear.
Shaking his head, he frowned at the sight of Cassiopeia and a man who looked somewhat familiar to him.
"We have a problem, Gellert," Cassiopeia spoke.
"We have a problem?" Gellert chuckled. "I am locked in a cell, never to taste freedom again. I am no longer plagued by the problems of the world."
"The Serpent is back."
"Is he?" Gellert asked. "I still do not see how that is my problem."
Cassiopeia scowled at him.
"He almost…"
Gellert held up a hand.
"He did nothing," he whispered harshly. "The Serpent was neutralised so that he couldn't interfere in my affairs."
"Now he is interfering with others," the man broke in.
Gellert's gaze shifted towards him.
"British," he murmured. "I'm assuming you are referring to the half-blood Riddle, who seems to think he can bring a great revolution to your country. If you want my advice, you should steer clear. His days are numbered."
"Half-blood?" Cassiopeia asked.
"Son of an inbred witch and a muggle," Gellert explained with a grin, revelling in the expression of anger of the man. "I know all about him."
"Dumbledore has been here," Cassiopeia said sourly.
"Yes, but it wasn't Albus who told me about him," Gellert explained. "Besides, the Serpent is only a threat if you make him one. It is not him your lot need to be concerned about. What was his name again? Ah, yes, Harry Jameson. He is the one you should be wary of. Your foolish Dark Lord is already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."
"Jameson!" the man growled.
"You know him?" Cassiopeia asked.
The man nodded.
"Our paths have crossed…"
"And he has already made a fool of the man you kneel to," Gellert interjected. "If you cannot see that Riddle is outmatched, then you are a bigger fool than your father, Yaxley," he added, finally recognising the man.
He looked very similar to his father, and Gellert did not have fond memories of him.
"Jameson will be dealt with!" the man returned. "I just need to know what you can tell me of the Serpent!"
The man was proving to be as impertinent as his father, but Gellert decided to humour him.
"Very well," he agreed, "but you should heed my words. That means you too, Cassie. I expect you've forgotten what the man is capable of."
The woman glared at Gellert defiantly, and he lamented that he'd never been able to rid her of her stubbornness.
"I will keep it simple," he continued. "If you make an enemy of the Serpent, you are not long for this world. The man almost killed me more than once, and I held the advantage in those exchanges. If he wants you dead, he will see it so, but you seem to have ignored what I have told you. It is not the Serpent you should be concerned with. Harry Jameson is the threat that will put an end to your master's ambitions. Mark my words, boy, his grip already tightens around Riddle's neck."
By the time he'd finished speaking, only the bars to the cell separated them, and Gellert could feel the warm breath of the other, suddenly nervous man.
Laughing, he stepped back.
"Return to your retirement, Cassie," he urged. "Forget about the Serpent and forget about involving yourself in this mess. It will only bring about your death sooner than you wish. As for you, if you've already made yourself an enemy of either man, I expect I will hear news of your own untimely death and that of your master's."
For good measure, Gellert spat at Yaxley's feet and chuckled to himself.
"The Dark Lord will hear of this!" the man hissed. "You mark my words, Grindelwald, he is ten times the wizard than you ever were."
"And your father was ten times the man you are," Gellert returned, "and he was a pathetic, snivelling, spineless cur. What does that make you?"
Yaxley's face turned red in a fury, and he reached for his wand.
As ever, the devoted Cassiopeia intervened.
"Crucio!" she hissed.
Yaxley collapsed to the ground in a heap, and his screams echoed off the walls of the prison.
"That's enough, Cassie," Gellert chided lightly when she refused to relent. "He will suffer soon enough."
Reluctantly, she stopped cursing the man and glared at Gellert.
"I want the Serpent dead!"
Gellert shook his head.
"Let it go," he urged. "I am too old and tired for all of this. I will look forward to hearing about what happens in Britain in the coming months. I do not wish for your death to be one of those things."
Her nostrils flared as she stalked away from the cell, and Gellert released a deep sigh.
The woman was out of her depth with both the Serpent and Jameson.
He just hoped she realised it before it was too late.
"Get up, Yaxley," Gellert huffed irritably. "You're making the place look untidy. Now, go and die with your master and have some damned dignity about it. Merlin, have you wet yourself? You really are just like your father."
Yaxley stumbled away, attempting to retain whatever little dignity that remained, and Gellert turned towards the window.
"Blood moon," he said thoughtfully. "Death is on the horizon."
It was inevitable.
With this Voldemort ignorant of what it was he was facing, Gellert suspected he wasn't long for the world, and if the Serpent had indeed found a way to involve himself in what Jameson was doing, the foolish Dark Lord was only one of a very long list of people who should be living in fear.
It brought something of a smile to the older man's lips.
It was quite satisfying to know that those who'd gotten away with their transgressions thus far had likely met their match.
Still, only time would tell how it would all pan out.
Regardless, it didn't matter to Gellert because no matter who emerged victorious, he would still be here, locked away until death one day claimed him too.
(Break)
"How are you?" Amelia asked worriedly.
Harry had been eyeing the locket on the table for several moments, and he offered the woman a reassuring smile.
"I'm fine," he assured her. "You?"
He still felt a little weak from the potion's effects, but they had mostly faded now.
The redhead nodded.
"Traumatised."
Harry chuckled humourlessly.
"Anything to do with Tom will do that to you," he sighed. "Even now, I occasionally have nightmares about the things that have happened. They don't scare me now like they used to. I was just a boy when I experienced those things and had no idea what I was doing most of the time."
"What next?" Amelia asked.
"The sooner we are rid of him, the better," Harry answered. "I can't be certain what Horcruxes he has created, but Tom never told anyone about them. He gave two to be safeguarded, but only he knew what they were. Even if I kill him before we find them, it doesn't matter. It's not likely they can be used."
"What if they are?"
"Then I will kill him again," Harry said firmly. "I do not fear Riddle, Amelia. He's a dangerous wizard, but I know him better than he knows himself. I know what makes him tick and how to put an end to him."
Amelia nodded and climbed into his lap.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed a kiss on his lips and melted into it.
"I've missed you," she whispered when they broke apart.
"Me too," Harry replied with a smile.
Amelia kissed him again, only to groan when a gentle tapping sounded at the window.
"Is there ever going to be a time when we aren't interrupted?" she muttered irritably.
"At least it isn't your Auror card this time," Harry pointed out as he stood, placing Amelia on the chair before he opened the kitchen window to admit the owl.
Relieving it of its burden, he frowned at the unfamiliar scrawl written across the envelope.
"Who's it from?" Amelia asked curiously.
"It's from Charlus Potter. He's invited us to dinner."
"Both of us?"
Harry nodded as he re-read the missive.
He'd gotten on well enough with both Charlus and Dorea, but he'd not made any particular effort with them. He'd not wished to draw any unwanted attention, and yet, they had extended an invitation.
"You don't think they suspect something?"
Harry shook his head.
"How could they?" he questioned. "I'm just a stranger to them. I mean, we got on well but not so well that they'd invite me to dinner."
"Then you should assume that they have their suspicions," Amelia advised.
Harry hummed thoughtfully, thinking back on the dinner he'd attended at Grimmauld Place.
"You're probably right,' he murmured. "Well, at least you will be there this time."
"You want me to come?"
"They did invite you," Harry pointed out. "See, your name is right here. Has your family had any dealings with them?"
"I think my father may have had business with William Potter, but he died during the war, and my father not so long after. Regardless, you should have a convincing story to tell them. If they suspect anything and you're evasive, it will only make it worse. Or, you could tell them the truth."
Harry shook his head.
"No, that just seems like a bad idea," he replied with a frown. "I'll think of something."
(Break)
"This is quite serious, Harry," Nicholas murmured. "Having two of you here, it's not something that I've heard of."
"I know," Harry replied, "but he is determined to kill Tom and fulfil the prophecy. I can't do that with the vow in effect."
Nicholas nodded.
"What do you make of him?"
"He's a very capable wizard," Harry answered. He has suffered more than I did before I arrived, so he is resilient. He's not some darker, evil alternative if that is what you think."
"And what does Eleanor have to say about all of this?"
Harry released a deep breath.
"She would prefer I didn't involve myself."
"But you're going to anyway."
"Shouldn't I?"
"You should do what you believe is right," Nicholas urged. "I trust you to make the right decision."
Harry nodded.
"I am drawn to him," he said thoughtfully. "It's almost as though he was sent here to do what I can't. He can be the Serpent."
"And what of you?"
Harry smiled.
"I was the Serpent once upon a time, but my path was changed. Now, I'm just Harry Evans."
Nicholas snorted amusedly.
"Let us not pretend you truly believe that," he sighed. "I know you better than any. There will be those who do not like it, but you are the Serpent, Harry. Are you telling me that for all these years, you haven't been considering ways to get back at them? You didn't just stop being the Serpent."
"No, I didn't," Harry conceded. "I've thought about it, and if the vow is somehow broken, I will unleash hell upon all of them, but if it isn't, well, Jameson will find a way."
"You put a lot of faith in him."
Harry nodded.
"From what I have seen, it is warranted. He's capable, he just needs to unlock that side to him. He's ruthless when he needs to be, but he must be more to beat them."
"And you are the one to teach him?"
Harry shook his head.
"I cannot help him with that. It has to come from him, but it is in there. I've seen glimpses of it already. Given the right circumstances, there's nothing he won't do."
"I think I'd quite like to meet him," Nicholas mused aloud.
"It might be good for you both if you do," Harry replied. "You'll see it, Nicholas, just as I do. This Harry may not be me, but he can succeed where I failed."
"And what if can't?"
"He has to," Harry replied simply. "If he doesn't, the world will continue to burn with no one the wiser."
(Break)
Several days had gone by since he'd requested more information pertaining to the Serpent, and with the arrival of his most loyal followers, he expected a breakthrough, though judging by the expression of each, none had good news to share.
"You disappoint me," Voldemort grumbled irritably. "There is nothing?"
"If anyone does know, they are not willing to speak," Selwyn replied. "They fear him, and from what little we already know, it is understandable."
"They fear a shadow!" Voldemort snapped.
It was he who was to be feared, not a man who had not been seen or heard of in more than two decades.
"Yaxley?"
The man swallowed deeply.
"I managed to track someone down," he said uneasily. "Cassiopeia Black was one of Grindelwald's staunchest allies. She and her brother, the current Lord Black, fought on opposite sides of the conflict. She took me to him."
"Took you to her brother?"
Yaxley shook his head.
"To Grindelwald," he clarified, shuddering in discomfort. "He…was not so complimentary of you, my lord. He would not help. He found it to be quite amusing that you may have made an enemy of the Serpent."
"He did, did he?"
Knowing that Grindelwald was alive was quite a surprise, but he would give the man no credit for his efforts. Gellert Grindelwald was quickly becoming a faded memory and one whose legacy would soon be outshone.
Nonetheless, the Dark lord did not take kindly to being mocked so openly.
Yaxley nodded.
"He said little but that the Serpent wanted you dead; he found a way to make it happen. Even Black seemed skittish about him, and those of us who remember her know she is not fearful of anyone. Even with you, my lord, she would be as belligerent as she is with everyone else.
The Dark Lord snorted amusedly.
"At first, perhaps," he murmured. "Not even Cassiopeia Black is immune to my powers of persuasion," he added, his hand twitching towards his wand. "I will kill the Serpent and Jameson. Neither is a match for me. Now, leave, I must ponder how best to proceed.
They did so without another word, and Lord Voldemort clasped his hands together as he stared towards the fire.
"What say you, Lucius?"
The young blonde stepped out of the shadows.
"I will see what I can find, my lord," he replied. "My father has connections on the continent, useful ones. If there is information to find, I will do so."
The Dark Lord nodded approvingly.
"I am relying on you," he returned. "Do not let me down."
"Of course not, my lord."
(Break)
She had the unmitigated audacity to sit at his table, sipping a cup of tea as though eight years hadn't passed since they'd last spoken. Arcturus didn't know what his sister was doing here, but it wasn't to stage a simple reunion with the family.
"What do you want, Cassie?" he asked tiredly.
The woman quirked an eyebrow at him, and Arcturus shook his head.
"Why would I need a reason to visit my own brother?" she asked nonchalantly.
"There is always a reason!" Arcturus snapped. "Are you here to support the Dark Lord?"
"Would I?"
"You support Grindelwald," Arcturus pointed out. "You abandoned me and Dorea to flee to the continent to lick his boots."
Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes dangerously, but Arcturus didn't fear his sister, not here of all places.
He was the Lord Black, and the protections around his home would act accordingly to ensure his safety.
"Gellert was not a half-blood pretender!"
"So, you do know about Riddle?" Arcturus snorted.
"I have heard things," Cassiopeia confirmed, "but no, I have no intention of following him. It is other business that brings me here."
"Is that so?" Arcturus challenged. "Well, whatever it is, you will not involve the family. I offer you no protection, and whatever consequences you bring upon yourself will be yours to deal with."
"I do not need your protection," Cassiopeia hissed. "I just need to confirm the rumours that the Serpent has been seen in London."
"The Serpent," Arcturus mused aloud. "The man was little more than a myth during the war against Grindelwald."
"He was no myth," Cassiopeia denied. "He was very real, and I have heard through the grapevine that he is here."
Arcturus shook his head.
"I do not have time to be helping you chase shadows," he grumbled.
"I should've known you'd be useless. You never did have the acumen father possessed."
"The same man who threw his life away?" Arcturus pointed out. "Give it a rest, Cassie; we've had this same argument more times than I care to recall. I have heard of no Serpent, and even if I had, I have no intention of involving myself in anything pertaining to him, to Riddle, or anyone else."
Cassiopeia pouted petulantly.
"How are my grandnieces doing?" she asked.
"Thriving," Arcturus replied politely. "Both Narcissa and Andromeda are still at Hogwarts, and Bellatrix will be returning for another five years. She has accepted a position to complete a Mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"A Mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Cassiopeia cackled. "Our family legacy is built on the Dark Arts."
"That is only the official title of the course," Arcturus explained. "She will become a Master in using them. Jameson will not accept anything less."
"Jameson?" Cassiopeia whispered. "Harry Jameson?"
"You know him?"
"I heard him mentioned," Cassiopeia said dismissively. "You've met him?"
"More than once," Arcturus confirmed, "and I would reconsider getting on the wrong side of him if that is what you are thinking. He sent Riddle packing enough times and killed enough of his followers already."
"How interesting," Cassiopeia said with a grin. "Well, it seems that his reputation proceeds him."
She leaned back in her chair, nursing her cup, and Arcturus could only shake his head.
If Cassie wanted to chase shadows, that was her business, though he couldn't help but think that she was delving into something she could not fully comprehend.
(Break)
The summer holiday seemed to be quickly passing this year, and Albus felt as though he'd barely scratched the surface of all the things he needed to do to prepare for the coming term.
Lately, his mind had been occupied with other things, mainly what the conversation between Harry and Gellert had consisted of.
He'd visited his former friend after introducing the two, but Gellert had remained tight-lipped, only telling Albus that Harry was someone he should keep around.
The man had taken no small amount of glee in knowing things that Albus didn't, and it had been many years since he'd had anything to be smug about.
Still, Albus could not help but ponder the strange development nor what the potential fallout of such would be.
Only time would tell on that front.
Nonetheless, he was grateful that Harry would be staying on for the foreseeable future as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.
It was one less thing to concern himself with, and as expected, the NEWT and OWL scores for the year reflected his competence.
"You seem rather smug this evening, Fawkes," Albus commented as he watched the phoenix preening his feathers. "Did you manage to catch something challenging?"
Fawkes merely ruffled his feathers in response and Albus chuckled before stroking his plumage.
Despite the mystery surrounding what Harry and Gellert had discussed, and the ongoing unpleasantness of Tom's presence in Britain, Albus had little else to complain about.
Hogwarts continued to thrive, there had been no major incidents in several days, and he had a full roster of some of the most capable in their fields to teach during the coming school year.
With as bad as things could be given the circumstances, the headmaster was happy to count his blessings.
"It must've been quite something for you to sit so proudly," Albus chuckled as Fawkes continued posturing, though the man frowned as the phoenixes eyes shifted from black to a deathly white. "Are you unwell?" he asked concernedly.
Fawkes shook his head and chirped almost mockingly.
"You know something," Albus accused.
Fawkes trilled loudly, his eyes changing colours once more before he took to the sky and vanished in a plume of fire, leaving behind a confused headmaster.
Had something happened to Fawkes?
Albus didn't know but he'd never seen the colour of his eyes change before.
Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, but somehow, he didn't think so.
He would mention it to Hagrid.
If anyone could explain what Albus had seen, it would be the gamekeeper. There were few others who was as knowledgeable as Hagrid when it came to magical creatures.
(Break)
The world of politics often meant working long days and doing so meant that they bled into one another, leading to long weeks. When he'd first taken office some three decades prior, he'd not expected to be here so long, and yet, here he was.
He'd lived through the Grindelwald years and the changes that came about after the war. He'd even orchestrated some of those changes through the clandestine network he was a part of, but recently, their work was receiving more attention than he liked.
"Come in," he called as a knock sounded at the door of his office.
It was close to midnight, and he was readying himself to return home, though a deep frown creased his brow as his guest entered.
"We agreed that you wouldn't come here!"
"And I wouldn't be if it wasn't of the utmost importance," the woman replied. "We have a problem, well, several of them."
She said nothing else, and the man quickly grew impatient with her.
"Well? Let us not stand on ceremony. What is so dire that you had to come here in person?"
The woman lit a cigarette as she leaned back in the chair she'd not been invited to sit in.
"Grindelwald has been receiving visitors."
"Beyond Dumbledore and Black?"
The woman blew out a thick plume of smoke as she nodded.
"Two others," she clarified. "One accompanied Black, and the other Dumbledore."
The man narrowed his eyes irritably.
"Who?"
"One, Corbin Yaxley, and the other, Harry Jameson."
"Jameson?"
The woman grinned and flicked an errant piece of ash from her robes.
"He's getting closer," she teased. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"We are in this together," the man pointed out. "If he comes for one of us, we are all in danger."
"Then why is he still breathing?"
"Because his is elusive," the man huffed. "He cannot be ambushed."
"Everyone can be ambushed," the woman said dismissively. "This should help."
She slid a sealed envelope across the table and the man opened it.
"How did you get this?"
"Needs and musts," she answered cryptically. "You have all you need, now, kill him!"
The man nodded as he began pondering those he would send to do the task.
"It will be done," he declared.
"Good," the woman replied as she stood. "Oh, and did you know that the Serpent was in London? He helped fight off an attack from the Dark Lord plaguing them. I thought you would want to know that."
"The Serpent?" the man gasped as the woman reached the door. "He cannot…"
"You remember the vow," she said pointedly. "If he is attacked, it is null and void. This Voldemort knows nothing of it, so, I suspect he will be the first to experience the ire of the Serpent. Do instruct your agents to not do anything stupid where he is concerned and kill Jameson quickly. He is almost breathing down our necks!"
She left, slamming the door behind her as she did so, and the man opened the top drawer of his desk.
Removing a bottle of whiskey and tumbler, he poured himself a generous measure before draining it.
The Serpent.
The man had almost put an end to their efforts before they'd even truly begun, though thanks to Grindelwald, they'd managed to neutralise him.
Still, just the mere mention of the moniker was enough to instil a sense of nervousness within him, and the thought of the vow being voided was a worrisome notion.
He shook his head as he poured another drink and chuckled to himself.
No, the vow given was watertight.
There was no feasible way the Serpent could come after them, but then there was Jameson.
He was proving to be quite the adversary himself, and though he was still grasping for what information he could find, his success thus far couldn't be dismissed.
He'd already gotten to Broz, and now he'd spoken to Grindelwald.
What had the man told him?
That too was worrisome, and there was only one way to find out what information the former tyrant had shared.
If he'd said too much, it could prove to be detrimental, and Grindelwald was a dangerous loose end.
The man thrived on chaos, and knowing he was causing it from the confines of his cell would give him no end of joy.
"Dammit!" the man growled, banging his fist on top of his desk.
He would need to speak with Grindelwald before proceeding with any other plan.
He needed to know what had been divulged.