A sterile scent of potions and a hint of dictamum could be detected in the air of the private room on the Spell-Induced Injuries ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
The head of the Department of Magical Security, Amelia Bones, crossed the threshold of the door escorted by one of her best and most lethal Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt. They had come directly from the Ministry to see the condition of the Headmaster of Hogwarts with their own eyes.
Albus Dumbledore was already awake. He was lying in his bed, bandaged almost from head to toe in white gauze to the point of looking like a mummy pulled from an ancient Egyptian tomb; the bandages were enchanted to help dispel the pain and heal him slowly so as not to overtax his body.
Upon seeing the Aurors enter, Albus offered them a faint smile and, with a grimace of obvious pain, made the effort to sit up on the pillows to face them.
Amelia and Kingsley approached silently and took their seats in the two wooden chairs placed next to the bed.
"How are you, Headmaster?" Kingsley greeted him; his voice betrayed the genuine respect he felt for the man before him. "How is your arm? According to the report we received from Madam Pomfrey, it was the part most affected by the explosion."
Albus looked down at his right arm, which rested heavily on the white sheets. Summoning his willpower, he slowly raised his limb and moved his completely bandaged fingers just a few millimeters, stifling a hiss of pain.
"I'll be fine in time, Kingsley," Albus replied in a hoarse voice, before his gaze darkened. "But my arm doesn't matter… All of this, everything that happened at the school, is solely and exclusively my fault."
Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt exchanged a look of confusion at the legendary wizard's harsh words of self-incrimination.
"I don't understand, Albus. You protected the students from the impact," Amelia pointed out, frowning.
Dumbledore shook his bandaged head slowly.
"Again… again I nearly put my students in terrible danger because of Gellert," Albus confessed, bitterness seeping into every word that came out of his mouth. "I knew something was wrong with that caretaker from the very beginning; I suspected it, but once again I was too passive. I chose to wait and see what would happen and didn't act with the necessary firmness before the tragedy finally blew up in my face… literally, on this occasion."
Albus let out a small, hoarse, pained laugh at his own sense of humor, glancing at his bandages.
"I thought that after all these years I had finally learned from my mistakes, but I was wrong," Albus continued, his smile fading completely. "Even though I'm one of the strongest Archmages, I still can't put aside my sentimentality and my damn tendency to give second chances. And that's why… that's why three of my students nearly died. I really am a fool."
Amelia remained silent, letting the Archmage vent and release some of the overwhelming guilt he carried on his shoulders. After a few moments, when Dumbledore's breathing had steadied, the witch decided to change the subject.
"Headmaster, regarding the creature," Amelia began in a professional tone, "according to initial reports, it was an Obscurial. How is it possible that it managed to leave you and that part of the castle in such a state?"
Albus sighed, settling himself with difficulty on the bed.
"As everyone already knows, an Obscurial is, broadly speaking, a young wizard or witch who, consciously or unconsciously, rejects and represses the magic within their own body due to severe trauma," Dumbledore explained solemnly. "That repression of their magic creates a parasitic force that progressively weakens them, devouring them from within until it kills them, almost always before they reach adolescence."
Kingsley leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I'm familiar with the theory, Albus, but that doesn't explain the immense level of destruction he managed to cause," the Auror countered. "Even now, that section of the castle hasn't been repaired by any of the wizards we sent to inspect it. There is residual magic imbued in the stone that prevents it entirely; we still haven't found what's causing it."
Albus looked at them both with a chilling gravity.
"And that is where the terror of what I witnessed lies," Albus revealed in a whisper. "This Obscurial was… different; we could say it was modified. Someone—an exceedingly brilliant mind—altered its nature. Instead of expending and suppressing its own magic, it absorbed the magic of everything and everyone around it in the castle to feed itself and inflate its own power."
Amelia opened her eyes in surprise, the monocle she was wearing nearly falling from her eye.
"But... that's biologically impossible," Amelia whispered, shocked. "Even for something as unstable and different as an Obscurial. The magical overload would have torn him apart from the inside in no time."
Albus raised his good hand and gestured weakly toward Amelia, agreeing with her.
"Exactly, Amelia. That's the curious and truly macabre thing about this whole situation," Albus told her, closing his eyes for a moment. "That person's magical core should have collapsed long ago due to the friction of so many different types of magic coexisting within them. But, thanks to something done to them—something we still haven't managed to identify—it kept on and on absorbing magic until it became an energy bomb."
Albus narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the white wall of the room, muttering to himself with self-loathing.
"And my own students—those I swore to protect—fell victim to my utter incompetence in letting that abomination enter the school unchecked."
Amelia cleared her throat, trying to take control of the situation.
"We will do everything in our power to find those responsible, Albus," assured the Head of Magical Security, rising from her chair beside Kingsley. "For now, the Auror Department will begin formally questioning Mr. Weasley, Potter, and Gaunt, as well as Misses Carrow and Miss Granger. Since they were the last six people to interact with the attacker before the explosion, their recollections of the events are vital."
Before the two Aurors turned to leave the room and let him rest in peace, Albus raised his voice slightly.
"Amelia… Kingsley…" the headmaster called out to them. "Tell me one thing before you go. How has the Ministry... taken this delicate situation at the school?"
Amelia paused in the doorway. She let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose with obvious stress.
"It's been absolute chaos," Amelia admitted frankly. "Minister Tom Gaunt is personally leading the entire investigation. He's practically mobilized the entire assault force department and is absolutely furious about what happened. He's demanded answers and heads."
Albus listened to her in silence. He nodded very slowly, taking in the information that the Dark Lord himself was so angry as to mobilize the entire Ministry. He said nothing more to prolong the conversation and let Amelia and Kingsley leave, closing the door behind them.
When the sound of the Aurors' boots faded down the hospital corridor, Albus was left completely alone.
Despite the physical pain and the overwhelming guilt tormenting him inside, Albus couldn't help but smile slightly toward the closed door. The Minister's irrational fury at an attack on the castle where his son was studying revealed a truth that, though he had already seen and heard it, still fascinated him.
He thought, with a glimmer of hope amid so much darkness, that Tom Riddle… truly, deep down in his heart, genuinely cared about Aurelian's well-being and life.
And that, on the vast and complex chessboard that was his war against Gellert Grindelwald, was indeed a very good thing.
The infirmary doors clicked shut behind him.
Aurelian Gaunt walked down the hallway alongside Hestia and Flora Carrow. Although none of the three had been injured during the monstrous explosion at the Obscurial, the professors and Madame Pomfrey had been absolutely unyielding. They had been required to report to the infirmary for a thorough magical checkup every three days for the next three weeks, just to rule out any kind of contamination in their cores.
This had just been their fifth check-up, and the three Slytherins' patience was already wearing thin.
Although, if Aurelian was honest, there was a silver lining to this whole situation: the training club in the Room of Requirement had been temporarily suspended due to recent events. That break was, frankly, very welcome to all three of them.
Hestia let out a long sigh, dragging her feet slightly across the stone floor. She leaned heavily against Aurelian's right arm.
"I'm so tired, my love," Hestia whispered, rubbing her eyes. "Can we go to your room and get some sleep already? I can't stand being on my feet anymore."
Flora, on the other hand, nodded slowly, sharing the same expression as her sister.
"Pomfrey's checkups are exhaustive and very annoying. I need to lie down," Flora murmured, resting her head on her fiancé's shoulder.
Aurelian looked at both of them, feeling the same exhaustion. He wrapped his arms around the girls' shoulders, pulling them toward him.
"Of course. We'll go rest right away," Aurelian assured them in a soft voice.
Hestia and Flora smiled with relief, relaxed under his touch, and hugged him even tighter around the waist, ready to collapse onto the bed in the dungeons.
Just as they were about to head down the staircase leading to the Slytherin common room, three voices echoed behind them, stopping them in their tracks.
"Wait!" someone called out to them.
Aurelian stopped, suppressing a growl, and turned slowly without letting go of his fiancées. It was Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter.
The Gryffindor trio approached them, looking nervous. Ron had already regained some color in his cheeks, though he still looked a little thinner than usual.
Ron and Hermione stepped forward first. The girl cleared her throat, clasping her hands in front of her.
"We… wanted to catch up with you before you went downstairs," Hermione began. "We wanted to thank you. All three of you. For helping us against that monster. If you hadn't arrived in time…"
"We wouldn't have made it," Ron finished, running a hand through his hair and looking Aurelian in the eyes. "You saved our lives. Thank you. Seriously."
Hestia and Flora lifted their chins, looking at them with boredom; they were so tired they didn't even feel like making a snide remark. They simply accepted the thanks in silence, knowing it was the least those three could do.
Harry Potter stepped away from his friends. He took another step and stood directly in front of the three Slytherins.
The Boy Who Lived looked deeply embarrassed. His pride was clearly at war with his sense of honor. His hands were stuffed in his robes' pockets, and his face was slightly flushed, unable to maintain eye contact with the boy who always outdid him at everything.
"Me too," Harry stammered, kicking the floor. "I wanted to thank you, too. For giving me time to get Ron out of there. Gaunt… Carrows… thank you."
And before Aurelian could even open his mouth to reply, Harry spun around abruptly and ran down the hallway, fleeing the awkward situation. Ron and Hermione stood there, blinking in astonishment at their best friend's clumsy escape.
"Um… we… we're sorry about that," Hermione apologized quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"Yeah, well, you know how Harry is… See you later," Ron added awkwardly.
Without wasting any more time, the two Gryffindors turned and hurried off to catch up with Harry, leaving the Slytherins alone again at the top of the stairs.
A silence followed the awkward encounter.
Hestia and Flora looked at each other and chuckled softly.
"Merlin… he tried to be polite, but he ran off in a panic," Hestia remarked, shaking her head in amusement. "He claims to be the supposed Savior of the Wizarding World, but nothing takes away from how stupid Potter is."
"Let's not forget his lack of manners and the fact that he's hopelessly clumsy," Flora agreed, adjusting her robe, ready to head back down to the dungeons.
Aurelian let out a sigh. He looked at the spot where the golden trio had disappeared and closed his eyes for a second.
"You're absolutely right, my dears," Aurelian agreed in a monotone voice, rubbing his temple as they resumed their walk toward their room. "Potter is and always will be an idiot."
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