82 82: Little Secret

A/N: I decided to write this note here because I know some people sometimes don't read them at the end of the chapter (Me being one of them). 

Now, some of you haven't been commenting on the last few chapters (Some blame on my lack of updates) but I would greatly appreciate it if you gave your opinion, be it positive or negative — it helps me improve!

I know some are glad the twins are finally on good terms again, while others think it was rushed. Truth be told, I initially planned on their conflict spanning until the end of the year, but after carefully considering Alaric's and Lysandra's personalities, I figured it to be weird that siblings with such close bond would stay "mad" at each other for so long, not to mention the childishness of the argument Alaric had that lead him to create the rift. 

I know I can't appease every single reader, but I do hope those who disliked it understand my way of thinking. (I do admit I could've written the scene better. :/)

Also, for those of you who enjoy Alaric showcasing his power, I have a great few chapters coming for you soon and at the end of the 3rd year. :)

Onto the story!

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The quidditch game was declared incomplete, and both teams agreed to a re-match once the Slytherins had found another keeper. The next morning at breakfast, the Slytherin captain, Zoe, received a howler from Mr Nott, accusing her of putting his son in great danger. Theodore was not present, and rumours abounded, but McGonagall had privately told Alaric that all was well — Mr Nott simply wished to keep Theo at home for further observation. 

Lysandra had another shock that morning. She had truly doubted that her brother had a Maledictus tucked away in his expanded suitcase, but when Alaric approached her right before classes began with a little bird poking its head out of his green and grey sweater pocket, her jaw dropped to its biological limit. 

"S-s-she's... so—" Lysandra had stuttered when Beatrice locked her large beady eyes on her. She gently took her off Alaric's hands.

A loud, guttural "CUTE!" escaped her lips, making any unfortunate passerby flinch out of fear of the voice that seemed to belong to a grown, chest-haired, bulky, bearded man overflowing with testosterone. Her vocal cords were a mystery to the modern scholar. 

Fearing for her life, Beatrice spread her wings and flew out of Lysandra's hands, right into the warm chest pocket she was resting before. 

"Gentle, you said?" Alaric smiled in amusement, before shaking his head. "Then again, what did I expect from a brute like you—"

"I'm going to curse you, Alaric Grindelwald." She said, gritting her teeth like a feral cat. 

"Sure you will," Alaric sneered, taping her head in jest. 

It was an odd sight for onlookers. The twins who had been barely speaking with each other for a month had suddenly returned to their usual gimmicks. A normal day for most, but a sad one for the fans of the weird and dark literature circulating Hogwarts halls. Lavender would have to drop her quill in defeat. 

While Alaric was able to lift his mood, Blaise carried on about his day, but the light in him had dimmed, Alaric noticed. He didn't hex anyone, make jokes, or even talk out of turn in his lessons. He simply pushed through, as if sleepwalking. 

Alaric wasn't surprised. He figured it was still the shock of the accident, coupled with the anxiety of what Theo would possibly say after he came back. The blonde had already come to peace with the fact that he couldn't have done anything. All he could do was prepare for similar situations, like charming his friends' equipment to dodge any illegal or stray budgers. 

But that would be cheating... oh well, only if he was caught. 

He had double Arithmancy after lunch, so Alaric could be of little help to Blaise. And he didn't know what to say even. Actually, he was a little bit glad to have the excuse to get away from the dorm room, which had become a dismal, quiet place while Blaise was in his mood. Alaric wasn't the only one — Daphne and Tracey barely showed up, opting to slip away to the library to study. 

Perhaps it was all of the quiet, all of the unsaid things and unresolved tension, but Alaric was a bit jumpy that day.

__________

The Arithmancy classroom at Hogwarts was a cosy space tucked away in the castle's older section. It had a simple entry through an arch covered in mysterious symbols. Sunlight broke through the grey sky and peeked through tall windows, brightening up the room filled with neat rows of desks.

The atmosphere there was all about learning — mostly due to Professor Vector's personality. Books stacked high on the shelves, old scrolls, and scrolls on stands, carrying magical knowledge for the students. In front, a big wooden stand held an old book open to a page crammed with strange symbols, numbers, and drawings. Above it, a well-used but clean chalkboard ready for the professor's teachings.

Alaric had sat on the same seat as always — the one closest to the enchanted fireplace. 

He pretended not to, but he felt every single stare coming his way. 

No one had sat beside him when they entered the room. Perhaps out of respect and shyness, but most likely out of fear. Why? It's quite simple, really.

The Patronus charm is a rather advanced spell. Magic far beyond N.E.W.T level. It's complex, and many skilled wizards or witches have trouble casting one. The only thing to rival the spell's difficulty would be its fame. 

Most children from wizard households grew up hearing stories about mighty sorcerers, capable of producing giant spirit guardians that warded them from evil creatures. 

Now picture these same children attending Hogwarts, having witnessed a patronus so powerful it protected them from a massive horde of the same evil beings their parents told them stories about. 

Aside from muggle-borns, every student in the school knew a spell like that wasn't supposed to leave a 3rd-year's wand, no matter how much of a genius he was. Perhaps if he was two or three years older, all Alaric would receive would be praise, smiles, and pats on the back. 

But as a 13-year-old? Having a peer of the same age being so above in terms of magical skills could cause several different emotions. Insecurity, jealousy, frustration, motivation, admiration even. But most of all, something even more prevalent among superstitious wizards...

"Fear,"

Alaric hadn't noticed her at first. Her bushy hair blended seamlessly with the prevalent dark oak in the furniture around the classroom. To be honest, it looked better than it used to, at least since Alaric had a proper look at her — And that was last year. 

"Miss me that much, Granger?" Alaric teased her with a smirk, watching as she dropped a stack of books too big for today's scheduled lessons on the table. 

"There's nowhere else to sit," She grumbled, taking the last empty chair in the room — the one to Alaric's left. She opened a large blank parchment and a set of kills before looking at him with a questioning gaze. "Why are they all staring at you?"

Alaric arched an eyebrow but then remembered who Hermione was. 

"Are you serious or just havin' a laugh?" Alaric asked in suspicion. He was tempted to read her mind, but if Snape somehow found out... well, he had enough detention to have for the time being. 

"Quite serious," Hermione said, looking at one particular student who quickly averted his gaze from Alaric. She then turned to him and began to speak as fast as she could. "Was it because of the spell from yesterday? It was the same as the train, wasn't it? So that was you. Never heard of it, really. It wasn't in any of the books I've read,"

Dazzled by the stream of words, Alaric rubbed his temples before speaking to her. He glanced momentarily at the enormous pile of books, wondering how she could be taking Muggle Studies at the same time as Ancient Runes. 

"Didn't my sister or your friends tell you anything?" Alaric asked. 

Hermione looked away awkwardly. "Haven't spoken with them yet. I was busy after the game, you see, at the—"

"Wait, wait! Let me guess!" Alaric pretended to be thinking extremely hard. "You were... at the library!"

Hermione didn't speak but instead glared at him, feeling insulted. 

"You know..." Alaric continued, smirking at her. "I could tell you aaaaall about the spell, even stuff you wouldn't find in the library. That is if you answer one simple question of mine,"

"It depends on the question," She crossed her arms in a mix of suspicion and enticement. 

"Nothing out of order, of course," He assured her, lifting his hand in the air, but keeping his smile. 

While they waited for the professor to arrive, Hermione seemed to think for a good minute — assumingly weighing the pros and cons — before she nodded. 

"Go ahead,"

"Good choice," Alaric turned sideways on his chair and leaned on his hand, gazing intently at her. "Tell me, Granger — And no lying. I'll know if you do — What is it that Professor McGonagall gave you at the start of the year that she's been desperately keeping a secret from me, no matter how much I ask?"

Alaric easily noticed the large gulp that went down Hermione's throat. She began to fidget, opening her mouth to talk but forgetting her words. Her eyes darted anywhere but Alaric's face and she became overly still. He didn't even need to use legilimency.

"I-It w... w-was a..." She began, hesitating and stammering in her words. "Well, n-nothing special, honestly. Just a uhhh... something f-for girl stuff,"

Hearing her outrageous lie, Alaric almost choked on his saliva. 

"Is that so..." Alaric sighed in exasperation. "Then, I guess you'll have to learn about the spell all on your own,"

If only he could enter her mind... no, he couldn't risk it. Snape was always watching. Well, not him exactly. But Alaric wasn't clueless to the point of overlooking the Baron still keeping tabs on him. The ghost wasn't making the effort to be noticed like before, but Alaric had caught him watching him from afar on several occasions, be it from the ceiling, a dark corner in a classroom, or even the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. 

"I really can't tell you," Hermione looked at him, flinching from his piercing blue eyes, clueless that her mind could be cracked open like the brittle shell of an egg. 

"Well, if that's how it is..." Alaric leaned back on his chair and crossed his legs. His face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. "But do understand, Granger, I will unravel the secret at some point. So why not save us the trouble?"

Probably deciding it was best to keep quiet, Hermione didn't respond and instead began to write furiously fast on her blank parchment. 

Alaric observed her quietly as she translated some text into English gematria. He so happened to glance at her books and wondered if she was actually attending every elective lecture or if she had chosen them all to do their respective O.W.Ls, whether she missed class or not. 

"Could these books-," Alaric said with a slight smirk. "-have anything to do with your little secret?"

The way Hermione gripped her quill and began to write even faster told Alaric everything he needed to know. 

"N-no," She stuttered once again. 

Alaric's smirk widened. "You really are a terrible liar,"

Just as he was about to probe for more information, the doors of the classroom swung open, and Professor Vector walked in. 

Needless to say, it was a very long class for Hermione.