The silence that followed the hum of the Banshee's Wail was heavy, smelling of ozone and wet earth. Isabelle stood frozen for a long moment, her chest heaving as she watched Rowena Smith's limp form. It was over. The predator had become the specimen.
She turned to Albert, her eyes searching his face for a flicker of the boy she knew. "You were ready for this," she whispered, her voice finally cracking. "Thoroughly. Beyond anything I'd planned. Where did you even get that dark artifact? And why in Merlin's name did you fight her head-on if you had a shortcut in your pocket the whole time? You could have died, Albert."
Albert didn't look up. He was already crouching over Smith's body, his wand—an honesty detector—humming as it swept over the Professor's robes. He moved with a clinical, almost chilling efficiency.
"Reckless? No," Albert said, his voice flat. "I was just playing the part. If I'd used the Wail from the start, she might have sensed the magic and Apparated away. I needed her to believe she had already won. People only drop their guard when they're convinced they're holding all the cards."
He reached into Smith's pocket and pulled out a small, heavy bag. The clink of gold echoed through the clearing. He weighed it in his hand before stuffing it into his own robe.
"Besides," Albert added, glancing at the empty air beside them, "I had a bit of inside information. My future self didn't show up to save us, which meant I already knew we'd survive. I was just following the script."
Isabelle's brow furrowed. "You saw your future self on the Map... and you just decided to trust it? That's incredibly dangerous. Contacting your own timeline is a one-way ticket to a mental ward, Albert."
"Not if you're prepared for it," he replied, pulling a silver watch from Smith's wrist. "I value my life more than anyone. If there was a real risk of dying, I would have left myself a much louder warning—probably a screaming letter or a direct path to Dumbledore's office. The fact that the 'future me' was just lurking around to clean up the mess told me the difficulty level was manageable."
He paused, a notification flickering in his vision that Isabelle couldn't see.
Quest Complete: Counterattack Result: Resolved an unbeatable conflict through a tactical duel. Duration: 12 minutes.
Rewards:
10,000 Experience Points
1 Skill Point
Specified Skill: [High-Level Legilimency] acquired from Rowena Smith.
Albert felt a sudden, sharp pressure behind his eyes as the nuances of Legilimency flooded his mind—the way to peel back a person's thoughts like the layers of an onion. He blinked, the world looking slightly more transparent than it had a moment ago.
"You're not telling me everything," Isabelle said, watching him closely.
"Everyone has their secrets, Isabelle," Albert said, finally standing up. "But I will tell you this: I fought her because I needed to know exactly how strong a real master is. And because I wanted her to admit what she did to your father while she thought she was in control. We got the confession. That's what matters."
He looked down at the unconscious Professor. The Felix Felicis was still a warm ember in his gut, urging him to finish the job. He had one last promise to keep.
"She hit me with the Crucio," Albert muttered. "It felt like being scraped from the inside out with a rusted spoon. I told her I'd pay her back."
Without a hint of hesitation, Albert raised his boot and delivered a sharp, focused kick to Smith's groin.
In the dead quiet of the Forbidden Forest, there was a sickening crack.
Smith's eyes flew open, the pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She couldn't move—Albert's binding charms were too tight—but her bloodshot eyes looked like they were about to burst from the pressure. A strangled, high-pitched whine escaped her throat.
"Don't look at me like that," Albert said, his conversational tone. "I'm a man of my word. We're even now."
Isabelle watched the scene with a grim sort of satisfaction. Part of her wanted to step forward and add her own physical punctuation to the Professor's misery, but she checked the impulse.
"Enough," Isabelle said softly. "Let the forest finish it. She wanted to feed us to the monsters. It's only fair she sees the menu."
She turned toward the shadows. Under the lingering thrall of her Imperio, the massive Acromantula clicked its mandibles and skittered forward. Its eight eyes were fixed on the helpless, weeping woman on the ground.
Rowena Smith's eyes widened as the shadow of the beast fell over her. She watched the sharp, venom-coated claws enlarge in her vision, the last thing she would ever see before the darkness of the hive claimed her.
They didn't stay to watch the end.
As they began to retreat toward the castle, the sound of heavy boots crunching through the brush made them stop. Albert instantly vanished under a Disillusionment Charm, his wand leveled at the source of the noise.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped into the moonlight, his wand raised. Isabelle lowered hers first. "Uncle Mogg?"
The man, Mogg Wildsmith, scanned the area before his gaze locked onto the spot where Albert was hiding. He let out a long, weak breath. "You're both alive. Thank the stars. Where is the scoundrel?"
"Feeding the spiders," Albert said, shimmering back into view.
Mogg didn't look shocked. He didn't look horrified. If anything, he looked relieved. "Good. He intended to attack the heirs of the family. He earned his grave."
Albert blinked, his analytical mind spinning. "You were watching us? The whole time?"
"Providing implicit protection," Mogg corrected quickly. "We didn't think you'd handle it yourselves so... decisively. It saves us a lot of paperwork. Gerber won't have to get his hands dirty now."
He stepped forward, his eyes falling on the blood-stained earth where Smith had been. "Go back to the castle. Now. Don't look like you've been in a war. Disguise the scratches, fix your hair. Professor Broad is already in the Great Hall keeping up appearances. Rowena Smith will simply 'disappear' during a research trip. The forest is dangerous, after all."
Albert reached into his pocket and handed over the watch and the various magical trinkets he'd stripped from Smith. "These are too hot to keep. They're easy to trace."
Mogg nodded, taking the items. "Smart. I'll exchange the Galleons for a clean batch and get them to you later. Now, go. Forget this afternoon ever happened."