Snape led me all the way to the reception desk, where two witches sat. Both were immersed in paperwork and didn't even look up, though they surely noticed our arrival—we were the only ones there. If I hadn't been fearing for Vespera's life, I probably wouldn't have cared and would have waited. But now, I felt nervousness boiling inside me. I wanted to speak up, but Snape beat me to it.
"Good day, Miss Rowle," he said in a cold, silky voice.
I could see she was about to snap something unpleasant, but the moment he spoke her surname, she looked up instantly, her brown eyes widening.
"Pro-Professor Snape!" she stammered. "Forgive me, so much work, we're barely keeping up."
He didn't react, merely watching her coldly. I, however, could no longer contain myself.
"Vespera Rosier. What's happened to her, and where is she?!"
"I'm just filling out her papers. Who are you?"
"Her nephew, Miss Rowle," Snape answered for me. "What is her condition? I haven't much time, as you surely understand; I should prefer not to spend a moment longer here than necessary."
"Of course, of course, forgive me, Professor," she apologized immediately with deference, then looked at me. "Your aunt is alive. She was hit by a Confringo from the side. Healer Tonks saved her at the most critical moment; two minutes later and it would have been over. If you give me a minute, I'll take you to her."
I exhaled in relief. She would be alright. Even if half her body might be burned... I hoped she would survive. Disfigured, but alive. That was enough for me for now.
She spent a few more moments writing Vespera's papers. When she finished, she handed them to the other witch: "Nancy, please have this ready for the Healer in the morning."
She stood up at once, came out from behind the desk, and gestured for us to follow.
"Since it was an attempted murder, Madam Bones has assigned an Auror to guard her room. Visits are restricted to family only," she explained on the way. "Forgive me, Professor," she added, though she didn't have to.
We climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. There was a small room with tables—a waiting area—and immediately beyond it stretched a wide corridor with rooms. Above the entrance to the corridor, a sign glowed: Janus Thickey Ward.
She led us further. I noticed a large open ward where several patients lay, but we continued to the very last room. By the door stood a large, heavily decorated armchair that looked quite comfortable. Sitting in it was an exceptionally tall, bald Black man who stood up as soon as we approached.
He spoke in a slow, deep voice: "Professor Snape," he nodded, eyeing us all with a grave expression. "Visits are permitted for family only," he added immediately.
"Auror Kingsley," Snape greeted tersely.
"This is Vespera Rosier's nephew, Mr. Auror," Rowle spoke up imperiously. "Step aside!" she commanded him.
The respect and politeness she had shown Snape vanished in an instant. Perhaps she was a Slytherin? Rowle was quite young; maybe he had helped her once. Kingsley watched us for a moment but finally stepped back.
The nurse went inside, and I was about to follow immediately when Snape's voice stopped me.
"Mr. Rosier, you will return to Hogwarts the same way you came. I have other duties to attend to, so I shall leave you now."
I nodded in agreement without looking back and stepped inside.
I immediately caught the sterile scent of the room. It was small, windowless, and bathed in shadow. I didn't look around much; my eyes instantly fell on the single bed. Vespera looked like a mummy. Wrapped entirely from head to toe, missing part of her hair, she lay there as motionless as a corpse.
Honestly? I was in total shock. That powerful witch lay before me, and it had been only two minutes away from losing her forever.
I stared at her in silence until the nurse summoned a chair for me with a flick of her wand and quiet Accio. She whispered: "I'll leave you alone. She's under monitoring and protective charms, so do not touch her. I'll come for you in an hour."
She turned to leave, and I sat down by Vespera's bed. You know, a person only realizes how much someone matters when they lose them, or almost lose them. It's like a kick straight to the balls, and that's exactly how I felt. I was filled with pain, but the mental kind... Anyone who claims physical pain is worse hasn't experienced true psychological agony. My own mind tortured me, constantly replaying what would have happened if Vespera had reached the hospital two minutes later.
The only thing that calmed me was the slight rising of her chest. The longer I watched her, the more anger simmered within me. I felt hatred burning me from the inside. I had to be careful with my own magic—I kept it disciplined within me so it wouldn't destroy the surroundings. Every few moments, I had to pull it back.
I was certain of one thing: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt my family or the people I love.
Was it Gregor Mulciber? Or someone else? Why did they try to murder her? Mulciber wanted to take over the Rosier line, and for that, he needed her alive. Dead, she was useless to him... or had he decided it was a waste of time and tried to remove her out of wounded pride? And why would someone else entirely want to kill her?
Only now did I realize that I didn't know Vespera and her history in enough detail. Did she have trouble with someone outside of Mulciber? Perhaps she only warned me about enemies of the House, but not her own personal ones.
I'll have to find out. I might not be a detective, but a bit of waterboarding combined with Legilimency can loosen a tongue excellently. The problem was that getting into Knockturn Alley now as a schoolboy would be difficult... unless I became a rebel.
Screw them, I'll be a rebel. I firmly decided that straight from here, I would head to Borgin's.
For now, however, I silently watched the rising chest of my aunt and, in cold anticipation, felt the hatred. Revenge would be mine.
***
After a while, the door opened with a quiet click and Nurse Rowle entered. Had an hour passed so quickly? She approached the bed with her wand drawn. I covertly summoned mine. A hint of an attempt to harm her, and I'd slash her throat with Diffindo.
In silence, however, she only waved over the bed. A white light emitted from the wand and sank into Vespera's body. After a moment, with a satisfied nod, she tucked the wand away.
She must have noticed the wand in my sleeve, because she smiled at me with amusement. "A diagnostic charm, don't worry. Everything is fine," she explained, pausing for a moment while I hid my wand with a thought as well. "Ready to go?" she asked after a moment of silence.
I nodded and followed her out of the room. The Auror sat silently in the chair, alertly watching the corridor, ready to intervene. As we passed, he gave me a nod, which I returned. The corridor was almost empty, the doors to the rooms closed, except for the large ward full of beds.
It didn't take long before we found ourselves in the waiting room. The room was completely empty, except for one person. I didn't focus on him at first, but as soon as we approached, the figure stood up. It was a man. Average height, stocky build, a thin mustache under his nose, and slicked-back hair. It was immediately clear to me who it was. I knew him very well from Alexander Mulciber's memories, though they were skewed by Alexander's perception, a fact I only realized now.
I looked at him neutrally, as if he were a stranger off the street, and tried to assess him. He looked like a total sleazebag trying to sell you overpriced frying pans. He was approaching us. He looked me straight in the eyes with that disgusting smile of his.
I felt nothing from him. It was precisely the fact that I couldn't catch his emotions that snapped me out of neutrality, and hatred scorched me from within. I wanted to hurt him. I had a frantic urge to summon my wand and hit him with a Reducto right in the face.
Die, you son of a bitch.
But despite the hatred and the magic vibrating in the air, I knew it would be a bad idea. Attacking someone in a hospital, in front of witnesses and with a wand? Prior Incantato would immediately convict me, even if I successfully killed him. And there was a real risk I would lose the duel. Too great a risk.
He saw my hatred, felt my magic, and that brought an even wider smile to his face.
That infuriated me even more. I refused to feel helpless against someone who posed a threat to me and my family. The fact that he was here right after the attempt on Vespera's life... there was a high chance he was involved.
When he was three meters from me, I attempted a wandless technique I had practiced even before Hogwarts. I focused and directed my power straight at his throat. I felt resistance, though—some passive magic of his. I poured more strength into it. He kept approaching. Two meters. He cleared his throat and massaged his neck with his hand. It was working, but weakly.
I tried the opposite—to tear his throat out telekinetically. The resistance, however, was immense. It seemed to me his larynx moved a millimeter, but nothing more. He kept coming.
"Are you alright?" Rowle asked after a moment as we stood there. I didn't answer. She must have felt my magic, and Gregor was almost upon us.
In my mind, I slapped myself. Tearing out a throat was physically almost impossible; the tissue was too firmly anchored. I decided on the complete opposite.
One meter.
I focused all my power on a single goal. Instead of blunt pressure, I needed surgical precision—I had mastered the cutting technique from the Diffindo spell.
He stopped directly in front of us. I caught the scent of expensive tobacco and sweat. In that moment, I almost collapsed from exhaustion. Sweat immediately poured from my forehead, while he slumped to the ground. He began to wheeze, and blood poured from his mouth.
I had successfully severed his trachea from the inside. Rowle screamed in surprise and moved to run toward him, but I immediately grabbed her by the elbow. Even though I was magically spent, I was still physically holding my ground.
He struggled on the ground for a while longer with a wet, disgusting wheeze until he finally stopped completely. Exactly then, I let go of Rowle, who stared in shock alternately at the corpse and then at me.
I felt immense magical fatigue, but at the same time, an even greater relief. It didn't bother me in the least that I had killed him. The feeling that I was rid of him and Vespera was safe was paramount to me.
"Why?" she breathed quietly into the deathly silence, her eyes wide.
"Who knows what happened to him and why he collapsed... it could have been dangerous for you as well, Miss Rowle," I replied coldly. My fatigue and sweat could easily be blamed on the stress of Vespera's condition. Her word would stand against mine.
"I see," she whispered.
By then, however, an elderly obese woman entered the room. The moment she saw Mulciber lying there with bloody foam at his mouth, she began to scream until, after a moment, she "hit the deck." She fainted.
While Rowle immediately ran to her, I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my hand and smoothed my robes. The room began to fill with people—Healers, nurses, and visitors. Kingsley, however, did not come, though he surely must have heard the noise.
"Probably still guarding Vespera," I thought as I watched the circus in the waiting room with cold satisfaction.
***
It didn't take long before the Aurors arrived. In a second, they cleared everyone from the room and took us—me and Rowle—to the Ministry as witnesses, or perhaps suspects. I don't even know how, but I was already waiting in a hollow, austere room behind a steel table that was bolted to the floor. They sat me on a chair, and across from me stood two others, presumably for the investigators.
Of course, they made me wait. Perhaps it was psychological pressure, or they were just overwhelmed while the rest of the Aurors investigated the crime scene. At least I had time to think.
I knew they had nothing on me. Even if Rowle testified against me... Wandless magic at this level? Prior Incantato doesn't work on that. The fact that I held her? Merely concern for her safety; who knows what dark magic was used against Mulciber. And the connection between us? None. We met for the first time. For a first-year to kill an adult wizard? Impossible. Veritaserum? My Occlumency should handle it. Fatigue? Stress and fear for Vespera.
I had successfully carried out the assassination and gained new knowledge because of it. It seemed that every wizard had a passive defense thanks to their magic. Throttling at three meters didn't work, though I hadn't used my full power. The closer he was, the more direct force I could apply. Under one meter, I might have throttled him if I exerted extreme power. Tearing out a throat? Currently impossible, and perhaps impossible even when I'm Dumbledore's age. Cutting the trachea worked, but it consumed an extreme amount of magic. I'm completely wiped; I wouldn't be able to fight anymore right now. I assumed that the more powerful the wizard, the better the passive protection. Moreover, I had surprised Mulciber. I doubt that if he had expected it, it would have ended so successfully.
I was completely lost in thought when I was snapped out of it by the sudden, grating opening of the door. Two people entered whom I recognized instantly.
The sound of a wooden leg rhythmically thudded against the floor, and his magical eye rolled wildly from side to side. Behind him walked a woman with violet hair. She had the same nose and lips as I did, but her eyes were the color of gold. A Metamorphmagus and my cousin.
They reached the table. Moody pulled out a chair with a slow screech and sat down heavily, watching me with a grave, piercing gaze. Nymphadora lifted her chair without a sound and sat beside him with a calm smile.
"Starting quite early, Rosier," Moody spoke matter-of-factly, while his scarred face twisted into a revolting grimace.
"Auror and Murderer Moody," I nodded cheekily. "Starting what quite early?"
***
Author's note:
Snape really does have connections everywhere, doesn't he?
Did you catch Kingsley? He's probably my favorite Auror, right alongside Nymphadora.
Our MC has successfully taken down Gregor and learned some vital new lessons in the process... but now, he's in a real bind. Sitting right across from him is the man who murdered his mother, probably killed his grandfather, and sent his father to Azkaban... and right next to him is a cousin who doesn't even realize they're related.
How do you think this is going to play out? Let me know your theories in the comments!
***
Step into the Restricted Section
The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written:
47. The Blood Connection
48. The Ghost of a Friend
49. Hypothetical Questions
50. Ancient Crimes and Modern Recipes
51. The Smell of Teen Spirit and Dark Arts
52. More Than Just a Name
53. The Rat's Final Kiss
54. Deus Vult
55. The Underworld Gambit
56. The Boy Who Sponsored
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