The classroom was empty, but Professor Parkers was sitting at his table, reading a book. When he saw Professor Longbottom and Albus, he raised his eyebrows, his lips turning up into a small smile.
“So, Potter, Triwizard Champion,” he said quietly, standing up. He walked towards Albus, standing in front of him. The candlelight threw his face into relief, so that the scars on his face were more visible than ever. Albus had never seen him from up close. Scars covered every inch of his face like tiny cobwebs. The overall effect was rather frightening.
“I didn’t do it, Professor,” Albus said instinctively. He was tired of saying it again and again. Is this why Professor Longbottom had brought him here? So that they could try to interrogate him? Albus started to get annoyed. “And I don’t know who did it.”
“We didn’t call you to investigate your… unusual entrance in the Tournament, Mr Potter,” Parkers said, frowning, making his face look even more distorted. He walked over to where Professor Longbottom was standing. “We’d actually like to help you.”
This struck Albus as really odd. Why were they offering him help? Wouldn’t that be cheating? Albus would definitely have liked any help that he could find, especially if it came from the DADA teacher and a war hero, but cheating was illegal. He frowned doubtfully. “I won’t cheat,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Professor Longbottom snorted. Even Professor Parker let out a bark of laughter. Albus, however, was confused. What was so funny? Why were they laughing at him?
“We’re not telling you to cheat Al,” Professor Longbottom reassured him, smiling. “What did you think? We’d tell you what’s in the task?”
“Er…” That was exactly what Albus had thought, actually.
“Rest assured, Mr Potter, that will not be happening,” Professor Parkers told him, noticing his sheepish look. “Cheating in this tournament is illegal, and even though you happen to be entered unusually, and though you are the youngest, we won’t aid you to cheat.”
“Then….” Albus trailed off. He felt so stupid. These were teachers, why would they let him cheat? How did he even think that? He mentally kicked himself.
“We wanted to help you learn a few spells and curses that you might need,” Professor Longbottom said.
Albus considered it. Victoire was already gonna help him, and he’d also found a lot of stuff on his own. Would he take help from the teachers too? For one moment, one part of him “ the part that was utterly terrified “ wanted to take all the help he need. After all, he was the underdog who knew the least. He needed all the help he could find.
Take the help, Al, a sneaky voice said.
Albus felt inclined to agree with it. He opened his mouth to agree with the teachers.
Cheater.
Where did that come from? Albus wasn’t cheating was he? He was just accepting help from teachers, so how could he be a cheater?
You should do it yourself. Come on, if you win this thing by a stroke of luck, then you can at least tell everyone that you won this by yourself! Albus realized with a jolt that the voice sounded exactly like James’.
I’m already taking help from my friends, Albus pointed out to the voice. So I’m technically not doing it myself.
But they are the same age as you are. You aren’t taking any extra help, it’s just the amount you know… and they’re not helping you, they’re just giving you moral support. Nothing special. Taking help from teachers, though...
Albus mulled it over. Now that he thought about it, it was true.
Come on, Al, the voice nagged, sounding more like James than ever. What’s life without risk? Venture into the unknown. Show them you can do it yourself!
“I don’t need any help Professor.”
It took Albus a moment to realize that the words had come out of his mouth. He stared at the teachers. Professor Parkers seemed mildly surprised, and his eyebrows were raised. Professor Longbottom, however, was smiling. He was looking at Albus with… with pride.
“I knew you’d say that,” he said. “You’re too noble, like your father.”
Albus stared. He’d never been called noble before.
Professor Parkers clapped his hands together. “You sure, Potter?”
“Yes, sir,” Albus replied, gulping. He didn’t know why he was refusing their help; he was letting a huge opportunity fly by.
“Very well.” Professor Longbottom nodded. “I’ll take you back to the Great Hall.”
Albus smiled at Professor Parkers as Professor Longbottom led him out of the room. He didn’t say anything as they walked along the corridor. Albus was thinking hard. Was he really like his father? Was he noble? His father was a great man, hero of the Wizarding World. Surely, Albus could never be like him.
Everyone respected his father, even people who disagreed with him. No one ever dared to talk against him. It wasn’t because he was powerful. It wasn’t because they feared him. It was because he was noble, because he was modest. Harry Potter cared about everyone. He could handle any situation, whatever it was. He didn’t wield his power over anything, but instead used his own opinions and carefree manner to deal with even the toughest situation.
But Albus was not like him. He was only eleven, and he was frightened. He wasn’t brave at all. In fact, he had been so scared that he wouldn’t even be in Gryffindor. How could he be like his father?
He didn’t realize when they had ended up in front of the Great Hall until Professor Longbottom snapped his fingers in front of him.
“Al, you okay?” he asked, looking concerned.
Albus jerked out of his reverie. Giving a tired smile, he said, “Yes, Professor.”
“Go to your Table, Al. Your friends are waiting.”
Professor Longbottom smiled, and Albus smiled back. He turned around to walk through the doors leading into the Great Hall.
“Al, wait!”
Al stopped in his tracks and turned around. Professor Longbottom was still standing there, and he seemed to be struggling internally about something. His brows were drawn into a frown, and he looked pained and confused.
“Yes, Sir?”
He was quiet for a while before asking, “How familiar are you with Muggle literature?”
Albus was taken aback. That was an odd question. “I don’t really know anything about them. Aunt Hermione tried to make us read a book written by someone called Shaky-pear or something once, but I got bored. Why?”
“No, I… it’s just…” He ran a hand through his long hair, frowning. He then pressed his lips tight and put a hand inside his pockets. He drew out a crumpled up ball of parchment and said, “Take this. Don’t tell anyone I gave it to you.” And before Albus could say anything, he wheeled around and marched away.
Albus was confused. What was that all about? He looked down at the crumpled piece of paper Professor Longbottom had handed him. Curious as to what it might be, he smoothed out the paper in his hands.
The paper seemed to be torn out hastily from a very old book; the page was all yellow and very delicate, as though it would tear at the slightest touch. Aligned perfectly in the middle of the paper was something that looked like a poem:
Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
As Albus scanned through the entire poem, he became increasingly confused. He forrowed his brows. Why had Professor Longbottom given him this poem? What was it about? The Kraken sleepeth… what in the world was a Kraken?
The words made no sense to him. He read through the whole thing again, but it didn’t make more sense than the first time. Giving it up as a bad job, he sighed and walked over to the Gryffindor table and slumped down beside Rose.
“Why did Longbottom want you?” Scorpius asked between mouthfuls of sausages.
“He and Parkers wanted to help me with the task.”
Rose dropped her fork with a clang, looking shocked. “What?” she squeaked indignantly. “But they’re teachers! They can’t go about helping students! Surely you refused, Albus, or I’m going to--”
“Calm down, I told them I don’t need any help!” Albus said hastily.
“Well, good!” Rose snapped.
“Dude, you turned down a big offer, you know,” Andrew said, his eyes wide. “You should’ve accepted.”
“I’m on this with Andrew,” Scorpius said. “You could’ve taken the help, after all…” he shut up immediately, catching the murderous glare Rose was giving them both.
“But Longbottom did give me this, though,” Albus said, handing the yellowed bit of parchment to Rose. “He asked me whether I was familiar with Muggle literature or not before. Do you know anything about it?”
Rose took the paper from Albus, looking disapproving. Her brows furrowed as she scrutinized it. After a few seconds, she said, “I don’t know what it means.”
Albus’ heart sank. He had expected Rose to be able to figure it out in no time. She was the most intelligent among them, and the most knowledgeable on things like history and such- his Aunt Hermione had made sure of that.
“I’ll go to the library and check it out, though,” she said, pocketing the paper. “I’ll tell you later.”
Albus and the others ate in silence. After they were done, Rose dashed off to the library without a word.
“Do you think she’ll figure it out?” Andrew asked as he watched Rose march out of the doors.
“If she can’t, no one can,” Albus replied, hoping that Rose would actually find something out.
The bell rang.
“Come on, guys, let’s go to class,” Albus said, getting up and running out of the Great Hall as fast as he could.
Rose wasn’t with them when they went to Victoire that night. Everytime they saw her in classes she’d just sit quietly, reading a book that she had borrowed from the library under the table instead of following class. Once the bell rung, she dashed out before anyone, probably going to the library again.
The blonde Prefect was in front of the fire, her back resting against one arm of the plush armchair and her legs draped over the other. She was reading a very fat book titled The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.
The moment they walked up to her, Victoire looked up. “Hey, you lot,” she said, smiling at them. She sat up and stretched, folding the book softly and keeping it on the table beside the chair. “I’ve been waiting for you. Where’s Rose?”
“Library,” Albus said, sitting cross legged on the soft carpet in front of her. “She needs to go and check on something.”
“More like ‘needs to live there’,” Scorpius muttered.
“Okay. So have you guys found anything?” Victoire asked ignoring Scorpius’ jibe.
“Yeah, loads of stuff!” Albus said happily. “There are so many jinxes and curses that I want to try out!” He told her all about the incantations they’d come across that morning. When he finished, Victoire seemed impressed.
“You guys did a lot of work, mind you,” she said. “I didn’t know what half of those things meant in my first year.”
Albus felt smug. “So when do we start practicing?” he asked eagerly.
“What about right now?” she winked.