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ALBANY WAS STRUGGLING NOT TO work herself into a panic as she began to rack her brain for the slightest idea of Carly's whereabouts. Merlin was speaking to her, but she had tuned him out against her better judgement, concern for her friend consuming her mind. Would Carly, too, be dropped down in the dungeons? Had Moody dragged her out to the forest so nobody would hear her scream?
"Albany, are you even listening?" Merlin asked, waving a ghostly hand in front of her face.
Albany blinked, eyes focusing on the wizard in front of her. "...Yes?"
Merlin sighed. "No, you weren't."
She bit her cheek. "No, I wasn't."
The raven-haired young man pinched the bridge of his nose, though was smiling nonetheless when he met her gaze again. "I was saying, why don't you use the guiding light spell? It worked last time, didn't it?"
Albany paused, wondering how she had forgotten it. "Last time I still don't know if it wanted me to put my books away in my dorm, or actually showed the way to George."
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think it's worth a try?"
Albany shrugged, pulling out her wand and swallowing her panic. "I guess it's better than nothing. As long as it doesn't take me to the bathroom or anything."
Merlin glanced sideways at her. "Do you need to go?"
"Only a little bit."
He had to hide his amusement. "Well, it's your only lead. I'd take it."
"I'll admit I agree," Albany said with a nod, and took a deep breath. "Lumine guidante."
Once again, she was greeted by the small ball of light, and didn't waste a second in following it this time. Merlin stayed with her as she climbed the stairs after it, itching to go faster. Unfortunately, that was the only problem with the little orb; it moved at the speed of a dead slug.
Well, not quite that slow, but considering how anxious Albany was to find her friend, it felt that way.
"Do you know where it's taking us?" Merlin asked, casually floating behind her. She envied his lack of need to walk.
Albany shook her head. "Not yet," she mumbled, though as the light turned a corner down a corridor of classrooms, she suddenly realised. "Wait, I think I do...."
The light fazed through the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. As quietly as she could manage, Albany opened the door, wincing as it creaked; and witnessed the light rise up the stairs to the office in the back of the room before fizzling out.
"There," she whispered, and swallowed hard. "Moody's office."
"You really think she's in danger?" Merlin asked.
Albany crept across the classroom with her wand drawn, mindful of floorboards she knew would creak underfoot. There was warm light coming through the cracks in the door to Moody's office, and she could hear muffled voices behind it. She nodded to Merlin, too nervous to speak in fear that she would be caught.
Merlin looked grim. "Be careful, Albany," he advised, and then faded away. She didn't blame him for being wary around Moody; who knew how much his magical eye could see.
Her pace was painfully slow as she climbed the stairs to the office. She paused outside the door, biting her cheek anxiously as she debated her options. How was she going to do this? What was she going to do?
"Wait, stop!" Carly cried out from inside.
Albany made up her mind immediately, heart racing, and threw open the door. She pointed her wand straight at Moody, where he sat behind his desk, staring dully back at her as his magical eye went haywire.
"I know it's you, drop the act!" Albany shouted, stepping slowly closer. Her wand hand trembled lightly, but she kept it pointed firmly at the professor, heart pounding so loud he could probably hear it. "I know what you did - now what did you do to... Carly...?"
Carly was seated opposite Mad-Eye, in a chair so tall it had hidden her from view at first. However, now she was staring at Albany in confusion, glasses propped up on top of her head, as she had been reading.
"There was a - er - paragraph back a few pages, professor, you flicked past it," she had been saying as Albany charged in; now all three of the room's occupants had fallen silent, frozen and staring at each other.
"Usually we knock before entering, Bronwen," Moody said gruffly, and returned to the book he and Carly had open, moving back a few pages as she had pointed out.
"I - what?" Albany was lost for words, eyes darting between the two and the stack of old books on the desk. Her wand hand slowly lowered, adrenaline draining away. "What's going on?"
"Are you okay, Albany?" Carly asked politely, looking concerned.
Albany had lost the ability to string a sentence together, mouth opening and closing wordlessly while her mind drew a blank. "I - I thought-"
"We were just discussing your friend, Mr Weasley," Moody informed her gruffly, a narrowed glance thrown her way. "Perhaps you know something of the situation you would like to share?"
"I - no," Albany stammered, and turned her gaze on Carly, caught between disbelief and concern. "Are you - you're safe? Why did he take you here?"
Carly's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement. "Of course I am safe," she assured the girl, reluctant in her confusion. She paused. "Are you?"
Albany felt embarrassment rising to colour her cheeks, the heat of it unbearable. "Yeah," she responded meekly.
"Miss Dubois approached me," Moody clarified, though didn't look up from his book this time. "She had questions, and I offered to show her some of my books. See if I could give her answers."
"I think dark magic was used on George," Carly explained, face grim. "One of my spells - er, it detects magic, but I couldn't, um, figure out what magic it was."
Albany blinked. "At - at the table?"
Carly nodded, smiling brightly. "Oui, I was going to talk to Madame Maxime, but then I thought your professor was an Auror, and he will know more."
"Oh," Albany mumbled, very quietly. Her face felt as though it were on fire - she couldn't have been more wrong.
But if not Moody, who?
"Do you need anything, Miss Bronwen?" Mad-Eye asked, magic eye still whizzing around in its socket.
Albany took a step back, shrinking under his disgruntled gaze. "No," she stuttered, feeling utterly humiliated; her dignity had shrivelled up and fallen like a leaf from a tree in winter. "I - er - I'm sorry, I'll just - um - I should go."
"Albany!" Carly called, surprised, but Albany had already turned and was hurrying out the door again. She flinched as a chest in the corner began to shake vigorously, and ignored the shouting from within, shutting the door firmly behind her.
She hadn't even crossed half of the classroom before she heard the door open again, and picked up her pace, head held low.
"Albany! Arrêtez, wait!"
Albany faltered at the sound of Carly's voice, and stopped in her tracks, allowing the girl to catch up with her. She bit her cheek hard, head remaining bowed in shame. She'd been so quick to jump to conclusions, and she'd been so sure she was right, letting a single unfortunate encounter with the ex-Auror to shape her opinion of him forever. She had as good as attacked a professor, who was simply trying to help her friends. She couldn't remember feeling so humiliated in a while.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, sure that her face was a startling shade of scarlet. "I thought I knew what was going on." She paused. "I was wrong."
"It's okay," Carly assured her, reaching out to give the girl's wrist a comforting squeeze. "You were worried."
Albany frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. "I thought you were in trouble," she whispered harshly. "Just because I didn't trust Moody-"
"Albany," Carly interrupted, lifting her friend's chin with soft, warm fingers. "Stop. You made a mistake. C'est la vie, right?"
Albany couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips as she met the smaller girl's sympathetic gaze. Carly beamed at her, happy with the reaction.
"It was a big mistake, though," Albany sighed. "I could get in trouble for that."
"I do not think he looked angry," Carly assured her with a shrug. "He wants to help figure out what happened to George."
Albany frowned. That was still the biggest problem at hand, she couldn't forget that. She glanced to Carly tentatively. "Can I... help too?"
Carly grinned. "Of course," she replied brightly, and linked arms with Albany, pulling her towards the door to the corridor. "I will tell you what I found."
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Back in his office, "Mad-Eye Moody", or Barty Crouch Junior, as he was really, beneath the effects of the Polyjuice Potion he'd been consuming so much of recently, had returned to the book on his desk. He grumbled to himself, running a hand through his thinning hair as his tongue darted out habitually. Despite the fact that Albany Bronwen had been incorrect in her accusations, and he hadn't even nearly cracked, having the obnoxious girl barging in and spouting such words had been quite the scare.
He got up from the desk as the chest in the corner continued to shake and shout incessantly, irritation building fast.
"Shut up, you old fool!" he hissed, giving the large box a hefty kick, and the office fell quiet again.
Barty returned to his desk, muttering curses under his breath as he pulled out the chair roughly before sitting down again. The pages of the book fluttered, and he returned them to open on the paragraph the French student had pointed out.
She was a curious little thing, the French one. Strange things were occurring within the castle walls this year, things stranger than what he already knew of. Things he didn't think were related to the rise of the Dark Lord at all. And the curly-haired student was closer to figuring it out than he was.
Well, he couldn't have that.
Albany Bronwen was central to it, that was one thing he was certain of. A presence surrounded her that wasn't entirely her own; and with her already rising suspicions against him, he had to either be careful, or take care of her personally.
Old Magic, was the title of the paragraph Carly Dubois had noted. Interest piqued, Barty read on.
There are very few records of old magic remaining in the world today. Many are of the belief that it does not exist, though this is a close-minded and modern perspective; those with an appreciation for more traditional arts tend to have more faith in the concept.
Myths speak of the golden-eyed magic users, and it is these stories and legends that spurred talk of how much truth is in the term 'old magic'. The myths tell us of an entirely different age of magic usage, a kind that has not been seen or used since the time of Merlin himself. This old magic is supposed to be extremely powerful, requiring fewer incantations, and no wand, staff, or other magical instrument to perform.
Whether or not old magic was a reality or not has been heavily debated, and researched in depth. However, given the amount of time passed since the origin of the legends, the Wizarding World has yet to see any solid evidence of it. Perhaps one day, it will emerge once again, though until that day, we rely on belief alone.
Barty hummed curiously to himself, and shut the book closed, sending up a cloud of dust. He clasped his hands together, resting his chin as he fell into thought.
"Strange things, indeed."
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
"So you found traces of magic? Where the twins were sitting?" Albany asked, eyebrows raising in surprise.
Carly nodded. "I checked twice. First, when Fred told me George was missing, and again when dinner was happening. There was definitely something."
Merlin was also listening intently, having returned as Albany and Carly made their way back to the Great Hall. He was pretty impressed with Carly's spellwork, and Albany had to smile to herself, knowing how excited Carly would be to hear that Merlin himself was impressed with her.
"You were able to check?"
Carly hummed a positive response. "One of my spells, it detects magic in an area. Normally I know what kind of magic, but I did not know this time. So I asked Professor Moody."
Albany's smile fell. "You thought it was dark magic?"
Carly nodded seriously. "I thought he would be able to tell me about it, because he was an Auror," she explained. "So he showed me some books about dark magic."
Albany frowned; Auror or not, books on dark magic was a bit odd. "Madam Pomfrey said there was no mark on George, though," she pointed out. "Dark magic would leave a mark, right?"
"I think it was something else," Carly said darkly.
"And only one person could have cast it, if not Fred or George," Albany realised, exchanging an alarmed glance with the curly-haired girl.
Carly nodded. "The girl who asked him to the ball. The one with golden eyes."
"Golden eyes?" Merlin echoed, and Albany had to remind herself not to react obviously to him. She glanced sideways to the wizard, whose face had gone paler than usual.
"Yes," Albany said awkwardly, hoping such a reply worked for both Merlin and Carly. "Golden eyes."
"Albany, I have to go," Merlin said hurriedly, and when she turned to him with concern, his expression was quite panicked. "I have to talk to Arthur."
She stared at him in silent pleading, begging for an explanation. Clearly, he'd noticed something of utmost importance, and she didn't want to be left out.
"I'll explain everything as soon as I can," he assured her, itching to go. "But you have to find her. The girl with golden eyes."
Albany gave a subtle nod, swallowing nervously, and the ghost made his leave.
"Albany! Carly! Hey!"
The girls turned around to be greeted with the sight of Fred, George and Lee charging up the hall, just ahead of the crowd as dinner finished. Fred waved enthusiastically at them as he slowed to a stop, though his energy began to sober as he took in their serious expressions.
"You find anything?" he asked quietly.
Albany exchanged a glance with Carly, who nodded. "Sort of. Carly reckons someone cast a spell on George. Or a jinx, or curse, or something."
Fred's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "What kind of spell does that to a person?"
Albany glanced worriedly to George, who was joking around with Lee. He was unusually uninvolved in the conversation, considering how important it should have been to him, concerning his welfare and all.
"I don't think it was normal magic," Carly was explaining under her breath, glancing warily at the passing students. "I don't know what it was."
Fred's gaze fell downwards, lips pressing firmly together. He spared George an anxious glance. "He'll be okay, right?"
Carly glanced at the twin in question curiously, and shrugged. "He has been so far, right? He hasn't shown any side effects since-"
"I have a date to the Yule Ball," George reminded them suddenly, glancing up to stare straight at Carly.
Fred winced, glancing sideways to Albany, but the girl just gave an awkward laugh.
"I said we'd talk about that-" she started, and then stopped herself. I did say we could talk about it when he got out of the hospital bed. And her heart was fluttering again at the mention of the ball, she couldn't deny that. "Alright, fine. Though the Hospital Wing wasn't exactly the best place to ask me."
Fred looked severely uncomfortable as Albany laughed lightly, and tried to speak up, "Albany, I meant to tell you, actually-"
"What?" George interrupted, his expression confused beyond belief.
Albany chuckled awkwardly, cheeks turning red. "Maybe you don't remember, it's okay-"
"I didn't ask you," George stated bluntly, and Albany felt her heart drop, immediately returning to the pool of humiliation she'd only just fought off after confronting Moody.
Lee exchanged an awkward glance with Carly, while Fred's ears had turned as red as his hair, unable to do anything to let the girl down slowly.
"W-what?" Albany echoed, sure this was one of his jokes. She glanced uneasily to Fred, who had ducked his head. You said he wanted to go with me.
"I didn't ask you," George repeated blankly. His gaze was steady and tone even; he wasn't phased in the slightest.
Albany rubbed harshly at her eyes, completely lost for words. She felt the bitter taste of blood in her mouth, and winced, realising she'd bit her cheek too hard. Was everything just going to fall apart around her anymore? Did she have even half a grasp on what was going on?
She rubbed at her eyes again instinctively, because they stung with threatening tears of humiliation and hurt. She'd been slowly coming around to the idea of George; and not just that, but liking George. Liking the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, liking when he picked her up and ran around the castle like a madman. Liking the mischief in his grin and the sparkle in his eyes, his passion for puns. Liking how clever he was, but how kind, and how sensitive. Liking George.
And here he was now, with a date that wasn't her. Staring blankly. Not caring.
She felt her fists clench at her sides. "Who?" she asked, and didn't bother covering up the bitterness in her tone. "Who'd you ask, then?"
"I didn't ask anyone."
Albany grit her teeth. "Who's your date, George?!" she shouted, voice trembling.
George didn't blink.
"Faith Moran."