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'I thought the disappearance of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor on the very first day was outrageous enough, but who could have guessed that Hogwarts had such hidden depths?'
Just yesterday, I'd been hearing all about the nefarious Death Eaters, how Aurora was supposedly the villainess of the tale— a descendant of a noble house— and now Ian found himself utterly gobsmacked by this latest revelation.
"My life at Hogwarts really doesn't need to be this thrilling!" Ian groaned, leaping up from his bed and rushing to the washroom. He splashed cold water onto his face, still struggling to process the whirlwind of events from the day before.
William, looking thoroughly rattled, hurried in after him. He lingered behind Ian, his voice carrying a slightly frantic edge. "Honestly, Ian, you have to help me! My dad hasn't said a word yet, but my mum— she's already given my room to my younger brother!"
Ian blinked at him. "What?"
William's words were becoming increasingly absurd.
"Isn't your mum a Muggle?" Ian asked, recalling their introductions on the first night in the dormitory. William had mentioned that his mother was a Muggle who mostly took care of their household.
How could she possibly have any dealings with radical wizards?
William swallowed hard. "My mum's name is Selma Goring."
Noticing Ian's silence, he hurried to explain further. "Anyway, I swear I'm not making this up! My mum's been hiding in the wizarding world because our family's fallen on hard times. She's got this... rather strong-willed personality, and she's got my dad wrapped around her finger."
"And by that, I mean that she's hexed his hands off three times."
The tremor in William's voice was unmistakable.
"If I don't join you lot, my family will definitely have my head. My grandfather said as much last night— it's as if I never existed. I'm a useless squib who can't seize an opportunity."
"Even if an owl rode a broomstick, it wouldn't be fast enough to deliver that kind of news," Ian muttered, brushing his teeth. He eyed William skeptically through the mirror, but the other boy's expression was one of absolute despair.
"I have my grandfather's alchemical device," William blurted out suddenly. "A small box… I always thought it was just a communication tool used by German Aurors."
Without waiting for Ian's reaction, he dashed back to his bed and returned moments later, clutching a small metallic contraption. He squeezed into the washroom before Ian could shut the door with his foot.
"I need to pee."
Ian, with his mouth still foaming from the minty mouthwash he'd bought in Hogsmeade, scowled. Honestly, wizarding hygiene was oddly outdated in some respects, but in others, their magical advancements left Muggle ingenuity decades behind. It was an odd balance.
"You do your thing; it's fine. Mine's much smaller than yours, anyway," William remarked absentmindedly, though his attention was now fully fixed on his alchemical communication device.
It was a palm-sized contraption, resembling an old apothecary's tin. William fiddled with it, causing tiny vials inside to shift, forming fleeting lines of text before vanishing.
"What is this?" Ian asked, momentarily setting aside his irritation. He wasn't entirely sure he trusted William's integrity, but the little alchemical artifact had certainly piqued his interest.
[Ancient Alchemical Technique (Level 1, 76/100)]
He had, of course, studied some alchemical principles under Professor Mara, but this— this was something different. The knowledge he was acquiring in class paled in comparison to whatever arcane methods had been used to create this device.
"Is this some kind of coded messaging system?" Ian mused, eyeing the device with growing suspicion. There was something undeniably espionage-like about it.
William nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I always thought this was standard Auror equipment— something German Aurors used for relaying messages during missions."
"My dad works at the British Ministry of Magic, but he doesn't have anything like this... When I was little, I always wondered why the German Aurors had such advanced gear."
From William's increasingly ashen expression, it was clear he now understood that this was 'not' standard Auror equipment. He didn't have to say it outright— Ian had already put the pieces together.
"Your grandfather is actually a Death Eater spy?" Ian asked, half in jest, though the suspicion was real.
William, still pressed awkwardly into the washroom, widened his eyes before quickly correcting him. "Shouldn't we refer to ourselves as 'honorable Acolytes'? 'Death Eater' sounds so... misunderstood."
Ian raised a brow. "Weren't you just ranting about how terrible they were yesterday?"
"I'm not an Acolyte," Ian clarified before William could spiral any further.
William's eyes went even wider, his face stricken. "Don't lie to me! You're so close to young Grindelwald— you must have been trained from childhood as his successor, his right-hand man!"
"My grandfather said you'd be at the center of power!"
Ian resisted the urge to groan. Clearly, William had spent the entire night exchanging messages with his family, being fed grandiose delusions about his supposed 'destiny'. The way he was already addressing people with exaggerated reverence… well, that explained a lot.
"Didn't you say last night that your family warned you about how dangerous Grindelwald was?" Ian asked, still trying to wrestle his arm free from William's iron grip.
"Yes! My dad used to tell me horror stories about him when I was little. I thought they were cautionary tales! But it turns out, they were just 'nostalgic war stories'!"
William's expression was one of absolute existential crisis. The sheer weight of his realization seemed to be collapsing his worldview in real-time. And judging by his use of 'they'… well, it was obvious who in the family actually 'belonged' to the house.
Ian sighed, clapping a hand on William's shoulder. "I don't think you're really cut out for this whole 'Acolyte' business."
William stiffened. "No! I want to be an Acolyte! I hardly slept last night!"
He seemed desperate to prove his commitment, hurriedly launching into another frantic ramble about his lineage.
"My dad's an Auror at the Ministry, but he secretly leaks information to Knockturn Alley!"
"My mum told me last night not to feel pressured because 'they' aren't righteous people! And I was wondering why my family suddenly had money to buy me a wand..."
He lowered his voice, paranoid that their dormmate Michael might overhear.
Merlin's beard. This family was 'obsessed' with being spies.
Even when they were struggling, their biggest concern was still infiltrating something.
"You only figured out your family's true colors last night? And couldn't your grandfather just recommend you himself?"
William hesitated, his face twisting. "Originally, they thought I had the potential to be the first 'decent' person in the family. But after hearing about you lot last night, they've decided to sum up my existence in three simple words- 'that's a waste'."
He exhaled slowly before admitting, "My grandfather 'is' a spy for the Acolytes… but due to some magical shortcomings, he never officially joined their ranks. So now, he's pinning all his hopes on me."
Ah. So the old man was just an obsessive fan with no real status. Just 'loyalty'.
Ian could only imagine how rabid European wizards must have been in those days.
"I'll try to write you a recommendation letter, but I don't know if it'll actually do anything. I'm 'not' a student Acolyte— I'm just a like-minded friend of Aurora."
"I don't think she's looking to recruit anyone, either."
Ian shoved William out of the washroom.
'Bang.' The door shut.
"Thank you, Ian! Your letter will be invaluable!" William's excited voice rang from outside.
Ian sighed.
The door was just a barrier and the sound felt so close.
William was still expressing his gratitude.
Ian found it hard to relieve himself...
This was going to be a long year.
(End of this chapter)