52: Conflicts

[3rd Pov]

After clashing with Alaric, Lucius Malfoy, now without a servant, ascended the stairs and reached the governor's cabin. His wife, Narcissa, had already taken a seat.

"Lucius," she said.

"What?" he hissed, his face contorted into a displeased frown. He noticed Narcissa's perplexed stare fixed on his back.

Did something strange happen to his rear? Lucius scanned the cabin, finding not only Narcissa but most of Hogwarts's governors watching him, particularly his posterior. Some struggled to maintain their composure, revealing faint smirks. Others resorted to Occlumency to avoid embarrassing Lord Malfoy, who, despite being disliked, held enough influence to change the board to his liking.

"What?" he hissed again, finally reaching down to feel his buttocks. When his hand encountered something sticky just above it, he understood the reason for the curious gazes, his eyes widened, and his face drained of colour.

Emerging from Lucius's lower back was a rat's tail. It extended, mottled grey and filthy, ending in a sharp point, emitting a gagging odour.

"GRINDELWAAAAALD!" he screamed in a fury.

Meanwhile, the boy in question felt an itch on his neck but ignored it, concentrating on the final briefing Zoe Carrow was delivering to the team just before the game.

__________

"Angelina Johnson scores again for Gryffindor! That's ten points!" Lee Jordan cheered with excitement.

The match had been going on for about thirty minutes now, and the score remained tied, with one team occasionally taking the lead and then the other catching up. The Golden Snitch still hadn't shown itself, with both seekers juggling their efforts by helping their teams or searching the stadium for the game-winning snitch.

The air was clear and fresh, with the sun shining on the players and the spectators. Some people had created shady spots with magic, while others used giant sunshades to keep the sun off a group of viewers.

Players were sweating, feeling the heat, and their clothes were damp. The sun had appeared suddenly, clearing away the earlier clouds. They hadn't had time to charm their game clothes to stay cold, so they had to deal with the rising temperature as best they could.

"Ah, this heat is getting to me," Augusta complained.

In the headmaster's cabin atop one of the stadium's towers, the professors observed the game with keen interest. The elderly woman who had just spoken was tall, slender, and had a bony frame. Her unruly dark brown hair swayed with each wave of the enchanted fan beside her. She wore a forest-green dress that felt cool to the touch, evidence of the refreshing charms woven into it. Her bright red handbag matched her pointed witch's hat.

"Would you like something to cool down, Augusta?" Dumbledore, dressed in his ever so eccentric purple robes, inquired.

"No need," she waved off the offer. Despite her brusque tone, Dumbledore paid no mind, returning his attention to the match. Augusta Longbottom, the grandmother of the one and only Neville Longbottom, was a formidable witch. Her grace and power, be it in politics or magic, more than made up for her lack of politeness. Those who knew her understood that, since her son and daughter-in-law had been rendered insane, politeness was something she cared no longer for. And Albus was one of them.

"Goal from Alaric Grindelwald! Ten points to Slytherin!"

"Tsk — Grindelwald..." whispered Augusta to herself in a rather annoyed tone.

"Is something bothering you, Augusta?" inquired McGonagall, who sat to her left. Besides her usual attire, McGonagall had transfigured the top of her hat into a small lion's head. Her cheeks bore face paint in the yellow and red pattern of Gryffindor. Two small Gryffindor flags swayed on her hands.

"Actually, yes, Minerva," Augusta turned towards the Transfiguration professor. "How did you allow that boy to enrol here as a student? I heard rumours about him, that they had to create new grades just because he's too clever for his own good, but I thought they were merely that — rumours! Here I was, having a good day visiting my grandson and watching the last Quidditch House match of the year, only to discover the existence of this boy! Don't you remember what his grandfather did, Minerva?"

"I had a similar reaction when I found out, Augusta, but I assure you that the boy and his sister are good—"

"There's two of them?!" Augusta Longbottom burst into laughter as if she had heard a fantastic joke. "Of course, there are. That daughter of his had to go and pop out two more,"

McGonagall struggled with her words upon hearing Augusta's remarks. She had witnessed the horrors of both Gellert Grindelwald and Voldemort during their prime. She had endured the atrocities they had committed and lived through their tyrannies. However, harbouring disdain for an innocent mother and children — McGonagall couldn't condone it.

She was about to voice her objection when a sidelong glance from Dumbledore conveyed a thousand unspoken words. The headmaster wore the same serene expression, but the twinkle in his eyes had vanished.

"Surely, Augusta, you're not letting your disdain for dark wizards spill onto a mother and her children," Dumbledore spoke calmly. "These siblings have been at Hogwarts for two years now, and there hasn't been a single sign of the cruel tendencies their grandfather was known for."

But Lady Longbottom remained sceptical.

"What about their magic?" she inquired, adjusting her Omnioculars for a better view of the game. "Have they ever shown any dangerous spells? You know what I mean, Albus. Have you ever felt that sinister aura that dark wizards seem to exude?"

McGonagall bit her lip in frustration as she listened to Augusta's questions. It reminded her eerily of the discussion she had with the headmaster a week ago. When they arrived at the Chamber shortly after Alaric and Theodore were taken, one glance was enough to identify the spell used on the beast.

February 7th, 1934. The International Confederation of Wizards had organized a raid on Grindelwald's stronghold in Vienna. Aurors, Hit-Wizards from various ministries, skilled professors from European magical schools, and even a renowned Magizoologist and his team had taken part in the attack. It turned into a bloodbath.

Initially, spirits were high. An organized, well-trained group was ready to confront the most dangerous man of their time and finally put an end to him. Albus Dumbledore himself had been there, providing a match for Grindelwald. However, when the first spell struck, chaos ensued.

In the end, only about half of the two hundred and fourteen wizards drafted for the attack survived, and Grindelwald escaped. During his escape, Grindelwald used an extremely dark curse to kill about twelve wizards, the same spell that the Basilisk had fallen victim to.

Implosio, that was the name, McGonagall recalled. Dumbledore had mentioned it a week ago in his office. She could still vividly remember the gruesome scene, the mangled corpses, blood pouring from every orifice, eyes, tongues, and teeth missing...

"Once again, Augusta, they've shown no signs of inheriting their grandfather's values. And if they ever do, I'll personally take action," Dumbledore assured, reaching for his own Omnioculars. "Now, shall we get back to watching the game?"

Augusta sighed, and the tension between the two elderly wizards dissipated. McGonagall also felt a sense of relief, mostly because she could now focus entirely on the match.

The other viewers in the headmaster's cabin had been too engrossed in the game to pay attention to the conversation, captivated by the intensity with which each team played. Well, all except one.

And the man in question, with his black hair swaying in the summer breeze, appeared lost in thought, contemplating what he should do.

__________

"Finally!" Alaric grinned. Gryffindor had been putting up a good fight, he had to admit. Both teams were using the popular tactic of having the Seeker join in some of the offensive plays to confuse the other side. However, this had turned the match into a battle of endurance because of the repeated strategy.

Constantly switching between searching for the Snitch and engaging in attacks was taking a toll on his body. He might not have been as exhausted as the other Seeker, Harry, but he could feel himself slowing down.

As he contemplated this, a golden streak suddenly caught his eye. He didn't waste a moment. Signalling to one of the Chasers to cover for him, he manoeuvred his custom broom towards the Snitch and sped off.

"It could still use a few more enchantments," he thought, acknowledging that his broom, as good as it was, had room for improvement. Thankfully, Randolph's new broom was about to be released, and Orion had a batch of new Firebolts waiting for him to test.

Alaric weaved through the air, deftly avoiding stray Bludgers and any players attempting to block him. Potter was hot on his trail, having noticed his sudden burst of speed, but Alaric was gradually gaining distance.

Swooping between the towers, soaring above the spectators, and darting beneath the field, Alaric's hand brushed against the Snitch. All eyes were fixed on the scene of Slytherin's Seeker flying at breakneck speed in pursuit of the ball that could win the game.

"I've got you now!" he exclaimed, making a sweeping motion with his hand just as the Snitch changed direction. At last, he captured the damned winged ball and raised it high for the crowd to see.

"And Alaric has caught the Snitch!" Lee Jordan announced, his enthusiasm only slightly diminished. He pressed the glowing green button on his table, triggering a display of magical fireworks that formed a giant green snake in the sky. "Slytherin wins!"

Sometime later, the Slytherin dormitory burst with cheers and music. Older students had brought an enchanted Jukebox, loaded with albums from the Weird Sisters and The Hobgoblins, filling the room with vibrant tunes.

To mark their celebration, Alaric managed to persuade a few kitchen elves to prepare a modest feast, promising them numerous rounds of magical poker in return. The elves, it seemed, still held hopes of a victory.

For most students, this was not just a celebration of the Quidditch House Cup victory but a celebration of their impending House Cup triumph. The Quidditch trophy had all but guaranteed their overall victory.

Laughter and joy filled the air as students revelled in the festivities. Conversations about summer plans drifted through the room, with mentions of formal dinners and events, as their house primarily consisted of pure-blooded students.

Aspiring players bombarded Alaric with questions about the game. They wanted to know how he trained, what he ate, how much he slept, and who had crafted his broom, among other things.

As the moonlight streamed through the windows, casting its glow upon the dark waters of the lake, most students eventually retired to their beds, eager to catch some rest before the final day of the Hogwarts school year.

"I'd reckon this year went pretty well, — minus the killer snake, of course," Blaise said as the five sat on sofas facing the lake.

"And minus Lockhart. Don't forget that," Tracey added.

"At least Lockhart re-opened the duelling club," Theodore quipped. "I just don't understand why the board allowed the man to open it but not Professor Flitwick,"

"Don't get your hopes high, Theodore," Daphne commented as she sneakily scooched over to lean on the sleeping Alaric. "Father sent me a letter a few days ago and he mentioned they were closing the club,"

The boy seemed to slump a bit on the sofa, sad about the club's shutdown.

"We can all at least agree that we're looking forward to Skeeter's article on him, right?" Tracey asked with a chuckle.

"If there's anything she's good at is writing derogatory things about someone," Blaise said. "And with the amount of evidence Alaric had, she'll have a field day,"

Meanwhile, a few hundred kilometres away in London, a short-haired blonde woman had sparkles in her eyes as she read the files she just received from an anonymous source.

She was, indeed, about to have a field day.

**********

A/N: Randolph Spudmore is the creator of the Firebolt in Cannon, for those who don't know.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!