Metamorphosis​

An inky sea lay still under a murky night. A tranquillity unseen, for it was split by a monstrosity.

The gleaming vessel cut inexorably through the water — the collection of sails, oars, outriggers and nets defied conventional classification. The hull was rough, being made of a mishmash of metal, leather, wood, bone and nails. Everything was twisted: sheets of alloys were cut into intricate, yet nonsensical shapes; bones were coiled like rope; leather was shaped into beams.

The vessel held fast out of sheer habit.

A veritable hodgepodge of graffiti littered the hull. Droplets condensed out of the fog, dripping from sheet to pipe, pipe to log, and finally into the sea.

The soft thump of shoes was swallowed by the very air. The five trespassers were young, fair-skinned and clad in thick dark robes. The deck they treaded was no different from the sides of the hull. It spread flat in all directions, but the sides went unseen.

A lanky man swept wavy blond hair out of his eyes as he looked around in the fog. He could see little beyond their immediate vicinity. “Why are we here again, Albus?”

“Any self-respecting alchemist must experience the Metamorphosi, Gellert,” said the auburn-haired man fervently. His sapphire blue eyes set imperiously on the wall of white.

Gellert cackled at the familiar sight. He taunted, “Good old Albus! Never one to forego wandless magic.”

Albus tutted, “One cannot really know without trying, can he?” He frowned at the entrenched fog. “But this fog is quite the trying subject.”

“Wandless magic for that? Only you, Albus,” commented a petite brunette woman. She dragged her brown eyes off the symbols on the deck. “Where are the others?”

A groan answered her. A young blond-haired woman of average height lay on the deck. Her heart-shaped face was striking, with the beginnings of smile lines visible, though she just looked sick now. She groaned again with much feeling. “I hate apparition!”

The woman accepted Albus’ silently offered hand. Her face fell as she regarded the deck. “I fell on that!?” she gasped, aghast.

Albus drew a polished wand from his sleeve. He said, “Allow me, Hanna.” Hanna nodded enthusiastically, her face slipping into familiar lines.

Albus intoned, “Depello.” Dirt and dust rushed out of her robes and skin, fusing into a small lizard that promptly scuttled out of sight.

Hanna beamed gratefully. “Thanks, Albus.”

A tall pale man twirled a thin caramel brown wand idly. His dark brown eyes pursued the lizard with keen interest.

Albus pulled an old but well-preserved book from his robe. Gellert snatched it from his hands. He muttered, “Lumos.”

The book’s embossed title, Hermetica came into view. A symbol of a triangle circumscribing a circle figured prominently below it.

The tall man’s impassive face cracked for a second. Gellert wordlessly banished the fog and brightened the light to bathe the entire group. The fog relented to a couple of feet beyond them.

He teased, “Something familiar, Egbert Gaunt?”

Egbert ignored him. He began chanting softly in Greek. Albus strained in vain to make them out.

Gellert flipped through the book with his right hand as Albus, Hanna and Aveline bunched around him.

All pages were blank.

Aveline drew her wand. “Reveal your secrets!”

Seeing nothing new, she prodded the book with her wand. “Specialis Revelio. Retego…” Her cherry red lips pursed into a thin line at the stubbornly blank pages.

Hanna pointed at the icon, “We could search for that?” She scanned around them. “It can’t take long!” she said, trying to sound upbeat. There were near a hundred symbols within their sight.

Gaunt concluded his chant. He interrupted, “I will lead us to the symbol.” He traced his wand in the air and a long glittering white rope dropped out. “Hold on to the rope.”

Albus was bursting with curiosity. He demanded, “Was that theurgy?”

Gaunt smirked, “Divination backed with theurgy. We must hurry — the symbol is far.”

Everyone stuck the rope to their hips with quick sticking charms and set off into the fog. Gaunt led the way, with Gellert, Aveline and Hanna sticking close to him.

Albus brought up the rear. He gazed warily at the fog swallowing their footsteps.

Gellert began in a seemingly disaffected tone, “Egg, what are you and Auntie Baggie working on?” Aveline let out a snort. Hanna and Albus smiled at each other.

Egbert replied, “My family has quite the history and accumulated much. Alas, history always seems misplaced. I am working with Madame Bagshot to trace my due.”

Hanna scrunched her face. “You are a ’descendants of Slytherin’ Gaunt? I thought they had died out.”

“I thought they had beggared themselves and moved into the woods,” Aveline added. She raised a delicate brow.

Egbert could apparently see behind him without turning his head. “I am the sole heir. The Gaunts were rumoured to have hidden a substantial portion of their wealth from the goblins,” admitted Gaunt.

“What happened to your family?” persevered Aveline.

“Murdered,” said Egbert in a grim voice disinviting further interrogation.

“Murdered? Por Quoi?” Refusal did not exist in Aveline’s understanding.

Egbert let out a long-suffering sigh. “They were killed two years ago. Aurors did not care for the spiteful family, and I can’t blame them. They were vicious, squabbling lot.”

Nobody pressed him on that.

Aveline asked, “Where did you study? I’ve not seen you at Beuxbatons. Gellert and Albus didn’t recognize you from their schools either.”

Gaunt radiated palpable pride as he said, “Imperial University of Constantinople, graduated this year.” Hanna let out a low whistle.

They stumbled upon a man and woman waiting before the Hermetic icon. The fog kept well away from the icon, which shone brighter than any symbol they had seen so far.

Gellert drew his wand before anyone, save the mysterious man, quite registered each other’s presence, and brandished it. Gaunt evidently recognized his spell and hurriedly cast a counterspell.

Albus strode to the front, lifting his wand and calling out, “Wait!”

Hanna lit her own wand with a soft “Lumos!”

The man was tall, dark-haired and fair. His robes were pitch black and impeccably fitted. He disregarded Gellert’s attack, looking over them with faint amusement in his piercing grey eyes. The woman was tall, but shorter than her companion. She fixated on the new arrivals with an air of vindication, though the look broke when she noticed Gaunt. She stowed her wand in her robes, tucking her waist-length dirty blond hair as she did so. She turned unerringly to Albus, “Hello Albus Dumbledore —”

“Gellert Grindelwald — Aveline Dubois — Hanna Abbott,” looking at them in turn.

She looked unsure of herself as she spied the last member of their group.

Gaunt said, “Egbert Gaunt.”

The woman looked intently at Egbert. Egbert met her green eyes coolly.

The woman broke off first and smiled disarmingly at them. “I’m Eloise Mintumble and this is Altair Black.” The man gave a little bow. “Are you here for the Metamorphosi?”

Albus, restless with excitement, cried, “Yes! I was told any alchemist must witness it at least once.”

Eloise chuckled good-naturedly. She peered at Albus, Grindelwald and Aveline, giving them a knowing smile. She asked, “Including it at the start of your World Tour?”

Hanna, miffed at the exclusion, asserted, “All of us!”

Egbert corrected her. “Gellert roped me into this excursion. I have already joined an establishment selling antiques.”

Eloise turned guarded. “I see.”

She raised her wand with her hands outstretched. The fog withdrew further. She asked, “Are you familiar with the story of Mesektet and Mandjet? No?”

“There are many traditions associated with a new year. The Ancient Egyptians worshipped Ra, the sun god, as the principal god of their pantheon. He created all life and personified growth. He carries the sun across the sky during the day in the Mandjet.”

Eloise knelt and traced the outline of the symbol before them. She stood back up and said, “He travels the underworld at night in the Mesektet.”

She spread her arms and quipped, “We are missing one sun and sun god, but this is the Mesektet of legend. An unbroken line of wizards has boarded this vessel.”

“What the myth misses on is the Metamorphosi. All of these symbols and misplaced items you see around you? They simply appear over the course of the year. None know how, where or why, though many speculate it represents the year itself. Every new year, at the stroke of midnight, the barque breaks apart and reassembles itself. We are safe from the renewal, but our wands are not. They must be protected by a powerful symbol.”

Eloise gestured at the icon. She set her wand in the middle of the icon. It remained stuck to the floor as she let go. One end of the wand lay on the base of the triangle, and it pointed straight at the opposite vertex.

She turned back to them and smirked on observing Gaunt’s expression. She asked, “Cat got your tongue, Mister Gaunt?”

Egbert looked around uneasily, twisting an ugly gold ring on his forefinger. It was set with a black stone that bore a glyph similar to the icon before them, having an extra line running down the middle. He asked, “All wands or all foci?”

“All foci,” said Eloise. Gaunt felt inquisitive eyes on him as he slipped his ring off and placed it at the centre of the symbol. He set his wand along Eloise’s.

Everyone followed suit. Black placed his white wand last. None of the wands fit perfectly in the icon.

Gellert asked, “What do we do now?”

Eloise replied, “Now we wait. New Year should be in a minute.”

Egbert and Gellert strode away swiftly. The fog parted before them. “The Bolt is —” was all Albus could make out before they rushed out of earshot. Aveline and Eloise walked to and fro, as they argued the finer points of enchantments. Hanna and Albus sidled up to Altair.

The trio waited in silence. Albus cracked first. “What are you doing here, Warlock Black?”

Hanna furrowed her brows, “Warlock?”

Albus shot her an incredulous look, “Warlock Altair is with the International Confederation of Wizards. He —”

“— is known for killing the Nundu terrorising Greece,” Altair smoothly continued.

Albus spoke slowly, “Yes, the Nundu in Greece.”

Altair said, “I’m here to observe. One does not tire of the Metamorphosi.”

Albus respected his need for discretion. He mouthed, “Later.” to Hanna. Altair grinned wryly.

Albus looked at his new watch. Ten minutes had passed. He asked, “Should it not have started?”

Altair looked up and sighed. He murmured to himself, “Another year, another delay, another report.”

He turned fully to the befuddled duo and said, “What do you know of Grindelwald and Gaunt?”

Albus said, “Egbert? He’s looking up his family’s history with Mrs. Bagshot. Gellert went too far with a prank and was expelled.”

Seeing Altair look at her expectantly, Hanna added, “I’m more Albus’ friend — our families both live in Godric’s Hollow.”

Altair hummed contemplatively. He asked, “Can you use wandless magic?”

Albus said, “And Aveline too. I suspect Egbert can wield it as well.”

Hanna turned despondent. She said, “I can’t.”

Altair waved everyone over.

Egbert and Gellert stopped arguing and tramped back. Aveline and Eloise trudged behind them. There was a worried expression on Eloise’s face; Aveline remained upbeat.

Altair asked, “Egbert, can you use wandless magic?” His deep voice rang with a note of haste although he appeared as cool as a cucumber.

Egbert responded firmly, “Yes.”

Altair rubbed his hands slowly. He said, “Good. Eloise is aware of what I’m about to say, so listen carefully. This vessel breaks apart before coming back together during Metamorphosi, but pieces have absconded before. This would not be worrying, if it were not for matched by — disappearances — over the new year.”

He plucked a ball of putty from the air and threw it into the distance. It returned near instantaneously, settling on his outstretched palm.

He said, “Nearly all witches and wizards can eventually summon and banish wandlessly. You are young, but talented. Can you do this?”

Hanna asked, “What do I do?”

Altair laid a reassuring hand on her arm. “We need you to look after our wands and the Hermetic icon.”

On that note, the vessel collapsed with a sickening sound. They stood on thin air above a frothing sea as the vessel began to reconfigure underneath them.

The fog retreated from the vessel entirely, revealing its true scale.

Gellert swore, “This is bigger than Durmstrang!”

They could see the sides of the vessel, but the bow and stern lay beyond the horizon.

The outline of the icon remained suspended in the air and was beginning to glow brighter. The wands and the ring remained affixed in their place.

Altair ordered, “Disperse!”

Eloise, Gellert and Egbert ran towards the bow; Altair and Albus to the stern. Aveline stayed with Hanna.

Fragments of the ship escaped its gravity and flew off in straight lines towards the horizon. Eloise pointed to each in turn as she ran, and they reversed course. Gellert copied her, but with less finesse. Altair merely glanced at each fragment in turn, and they returned meekly. Albus tried to follow his example but repeated his failure earlier that night. He resorted to pointing and summoning; Aveline was much the same in her section.

Hanna plucked the odd debris out of the air. She let them go and they obediently joined the concert below them.

Large parts of the ship were now teasing the horizon. They stopped running and focused entirely on keeping the vessel together. Egbert came to a resolution. He held out his hands. Most of the previously escaping material gathered under his will and returned.

Altair sneaked a calculating glance. Massive sheets of metal raced at Egbert, which he evaded by taking to the air. He hissed, “Are you trying to kill me, Black?” Altair looked unapologetic.

The Hermetic symbol grew too bright to look at. The wands sparked. The symbol engraved on the stone ring, so curiously similar to the Hermetic symbol, began glowing as well. The seven succeeded in keeping most pieces out of the fog.

The vessel churned underneath them as it adopted a sleek shape. The hull gleamed with fresh metal, the deck tiled by polished wood, and paint began colouring the vessel in deep hues. Polished oars of wood ended in lustrous metal handles. Leather coated the edges of the barque. The bones disappeared entirely. The bow and stern rose up in the distance. Scarce few symbols remained. The din slowly faded away into clear notes as the barque settled. The ocean turned glassy again, before being disapperaing under the sluggishly creeping fog. The icon, wands and ring looked undisturbed. Albus, Aveline and Gellert flopped onto the deck.

Hanna sprinted to them. “Albus!” She helped them sit up and the quartet soaked in the comfortable quietude.

Albus grinned widely, even as he panted. “That was fun!”

The rest of the quartet groaned.

*​

Altair summoned his wand. Gaunt came back down, picked up his wand and ring, and turned on the spot — and completed a full circle.

“Can’t apparate for half an hour before or after the Metamorphosi,” claimed Altair as he jogged back to the icon. He began tapping the wand against his leg. He noted, “Such talent from one so obscure…”

Gaunt moved his wand through complex patterns and murmuring incantations.

Eloise gestured and her wand swished to her. She called out as she dashed back. “What is this, Black?”

Altair kept his eyes on Egbert. “Eloise, you know the signs. After all, it is your expertise: Metamorphosi of uncertain length; inexplicable prodigies; people going missing…”

Altair concluded, “Egbert Gaunt is the time traveller.”

*​

Catching on to the brewing confrontation, Hanna, Albus, Aveline and Gellert sprung to their feet, reaching out — and failed. They toppled over and stayed down.

Aveline cussed. She pulled out a quill and scribbled in the air. Gellert groaned, “Brought down by a leg locker curse and a sticking charm! We will never live this down, Albus.”

Albus closed his eyes in concentration. Books, papers, quills and sweets marched out of his pockets on tiny legs and melted in front of them. A radiant cage grew out of the puddle, enclosing them underneath a large dome.

Gellert moaned, “You had to show me up!”

Aveline cried, “Locomotor!” Her robes came alive and slipped off her, leaving her in a crisp white shirt and blue pants. They slid between the bars and dropped down, inanimate. She yelled again, “Locomotor!” and the robes came alive again. Its collar turned to follow the standoff before them. She brought up her hands to massage her head; the strain of the enchantment getting to her.

Gellert’s astonishment overpowered his sense of injustice at being shown up a second time. “Wandless enchanting, Ava? What have you transmuted, Albus?”

On receiving no reply, he turned to observe through the bars.

Eloise met his pale blue eyes and sent a dozen spells their way. It landed on their cage and the cage glowed brighter as her protection added to it. She screamed at Altair, “This is not what we had planned!” Altair kept tapping his thigh with his wand, unconcerned.

Her wand returned to the duo, settling on Altair — and staying there. The duel kicked off immediately, with Gaunt shooting killing curses at Altair and Eloise before a stream of fire issued from his wand. Multiple conjured pellets raced from the distance. Several struck the cage, but the cage was more than their match. Gaunt, Altair and Eloise batted the rest at each other.

The robe abruptly jumped up. Something struck the cage with a flash, leaving no mark.

Gellert twisted back to see Albus; he was out cold. He twisted the other way and saw Aveline had fallen unconscious as well. He craned his neck still further and saw Hanna splayed out, dressed in a white blouse and black skirt, eyes moving frantically. Another guardian robe was rushing round to the front.

*​

The first wave of the duel was over. Altair Black emerged from a roaring fire, a bubble popping as he strode, wand continuously moving and a serene smile on his face. The pellets had melted in the flame.

Eloise waved her wand maniacally as she shouted, “I’m on your side, Egbert! Stop trying to curse me!” Gaunt had fared the worst of them, sporting multiple cuts, with his face locked in a desperate grimace. They were casting spells and Altair was just as quickly counterspelling them. Eloise had never met a man more proficient at it! He treated even transfigured and conjured items to their precise counters! And found time in between counterspells incanting counter divination spells. Eloise felt a chill run down her spine at seeing the standard dark wizard tactic play out for the first time in her life.

Eloise’s mad casting finally slowed down; she had been evading Altair and Gaunt whilst sending protective enchantments Albus’ way. She was not used to the intensity of casting the other two were displaying, but Gaunt stopped attacking her.

Gaunt shifted his entire attention to Altair as he conjured small snakes. They crawled away and looped back to Black, dying in droves for their impertinence. Some were enveloped by dark smoke and wandered away.

Eloise conjured large chains around Altair, which immediately shattered. She tried hexing him, but the man always seemed to know the right counter. She peppered him with blasting spells, which were deflected by Altair at the cage and Gaunt. Gaunt helped with a cutting curse, a blood-boiling curse, a bone-breaking curse, a skin-flaying curse…

She wondered, “Should I have attacked Gaunt? But the others…” She spared the cage a quick glance. It looked untouched, but the robes were a bit worse for the wear.

She returned to cursing Altair and dropped, clutching her leg in agony. A stunning spell hit her, and as she dropped, a snake crawled away from her.

Gaunt still lead the game of spells and counterspells though the two periodically sent and transfigured against unforgivables. Creatures of flame flew and crawled around them. The two whipped Fiendfyre at each other.

*​

Grindelwald concluded his chant, “…emfánisi grammís Atropos!” He lifted his hand. The strand of hair he had plucked from his head and covered remained undisturbed. His divination claimed he would not be dying tonight.

Gellert knew better than to be relieved. The Dark Arts offered worse fates, and he had not delved into divination until Egbert. He pulled his sleeves and robes over the cuts he had inflicted on his upper arm.

Gellert looked outside the cage to the robes. He asked, “Your duty is to defend us?”

The robes had their sleeves full strangling the snakes sent their way. One robe turned. The robe’s collar rustled, as though a phantom head just nodded at him.

Gellert gave a bloodthirsty smile. He said, “Excellent! Could you retrieve one of those wands for me? Your fellow robe shall keep us safe.”

The robe scarcely took two steps before a ball of fire engulfed it. Gellert tried to transfigure the ash back, but something about the flames was wrong — it had the robe between its teeth and refused to let go.

Gellert roared with amusement, “Fiendfyre? Marvellous.”

He concentrated on the flames. Altair was the master of the flames, but perhaps he could squirrel away some of it for himself?

*​

Altair felt a rush of tiredness. Images flashed through his mind — a brown-skinned man barked orders…

He attacked Egbert’s mind in return.

A pale, red-eyed man with waxy skin and slit nose coughed up blood, a scrawny girl begged on her knees, an aristocratic man cowering amidst the bushes…

Altair blurted, “Voldemort? Riddle? There are two of you?”

The chorus of memories sped up.

A nondescript diary, masked figures chanting, a capsizing boat, dementors gliding, a screaming woman, dragons spewing flames…

Neither could occlude against the other as they transfigured and banished water. Tom grew wild and struggled like a beast, but the stream of memories kept accelerating. Altair exploited the opening, and Tom was stunned and trussed up in an instant.

Altair transfigured Tom into a stuffed toy in the shape of a lightning bolt and stuffed him into his pocket. He had a large collection of lightning bolts, but this one would not join them.

A stone lay on the floor. Altair mused out aloud, “Curious. Accio!” The stone did not budge. He walked over and studied the stone. Failing to see anything special, he pocketed it, nonetheless.

Altair walked over to Eloise and incanted, “Obliviate.” A white light hit Eloise. He turned to the cage — and ducked down. A curse sailed over his head. A robe had acquired a wand and casted a jinx at him! He did a doubletake at the odd sight. The robe sent Fiendfyre at him.

*​

Gellert had tried to convince the robe to pass the wand to him, but the wand would not pass between the bars of the cell. Albus had done a tremendous job with the cage, and he did not dare disturb it. He beckoned the robe closer.

He flashed an infectious grin as he whispered, “I can’t cast magic from this cell, and you can’t bypass it. What say you to a team up? You point the wand, and I’ll do the magic.”

The robe fluttered with glee.

*​

Altair was not enjoying himself. He had not been touched by a single spell but was stuck fighting a robe.

The robe weaved and rippled between spells. The wand threaded from knot to knot, as it probed Altair from different angles. Altair singed its edges, burnt holes in it and casted multiple exorcisms. His transfigurations were reverted before they could take effect. The robe avoided charms like dirt, so he casted a multitude of charms. The tap-dancing charm, colour changing charm, the animation charm, the vanishing charm, but nothing struck the robe.

The robe even wrestled with him for control of Fiendfyre! He changed tactics and blasted away at the cage instead. It stood up to his barrage with not a chip to show for his efforts. He transfigured some putty out of dust and sent it between the beams of the cage. It bounced off.

An image flashed in his mind. A spell from his rear!

Altair reached out. A silver shield plopped out to guard against a, a toe-curling curse? Another blasted robe, this one charred and wreathed in Fiendfyre had fired at him! Both robes casted just schoolboy jinxes and curses, but the torrent kept him occupied. He resorted to slinging his Fiendfyre around. Several blobs struck the cage and ate at it but made slow progress.

The blood Gaunt had bled on to the floor writhed and flung themselves at Altair. He fired killing curses, even as he dodged. The robes gleefully leapt up and took hits. When one robe grew bare, the other robe would repair its counterpart with a mending charm.

*​

“Nearly got a point there!” whispered Aveline to Albus and Gellert.

Gellert whispered back harshly, “Nearly. I want to have a go at Altair. You take over the Fiendfyre.”

Aveline smiled persuasively at him as she said, “You and the flames are getting along so well!”

They had tried freeing themselves wandlessly, but whoever wanted them bound had done their job well.

Albus hushed them and proceeded to control his Fiendfyre wreathed robe.

*​

Altair stopped attacking and looked menacingly at the cage. “You think the Hermetic Seal can save you? You want to play with fire? Be my guest.”

He blew enormous globs of flame off his wand. The fire found no purchase on the ship, but it burnt all the same. He gestured with his wand in the direction of the seal and the fire flowed. It covered the seal in seconds and the creatures of Fiendfyre battled alongside their masters.

*​

It grew torturously hot inside the seal. Gellert cast a cooling charm. Aveline shouted, “How far along are you on the Fiendfyre?”

Gellert and Albus had turned to wresting the Fiendfyre, whilst Aveline cast with their wands. She was running ragged trying to keep Altair occupied.

Albus said, “It’s only been twenty-five minutes.” The others understood the implication.

Gellert muttered, “The seal can’t stand this for five minutes!”

Albus grew sober. He thought out loud, “Altair is after Egbert.”

Gellert panicked. “No!”

Albus was a Gryffindor, but he knew the consequences of time travel.

Albus commanded, “Prepare yourself.” Gellert shot him a look of utter betrayal. Albus pointed his wand at his throat. “Sonorous.”

He announced in a booming voice, “We submit to a memory charm in return for our lives!”

Aveline stopped her casting and pinched him. “Albus!” Gellert picked up the slack.

“I agree,” a voice boomed back. The fire left their seal but did not vanish. The robes were engulfed by Altair’s Fiendfyre.

Albus looked at the seal and said, “Evanesco.”

The seal disappeared. Altair stood before them, their wands in robe, his wand in hand, the orange and red hues of Fiendfyre casting him in a sinister light. He was sweating heavily, but untouched. He glared at them. “I’ve had dark wizards give me less trouble.”

Gellert gave a fragile grin.

Altair did not comment. He continued, “I will modify your memories. I will clean up the Fiendfyre. You will live.” His voice brooked no argument. He freed them from the jinxes.

Hanna spoke first. She cried, “I agre— STUPEFY!”

Altair flicked the spell away. He wasted no time. “Obliviate. Stupefy.”

“It’s a shame she won’t remember that.” He did seem sorry.

Aveline went next. “I agree.”

“You cannot fool me, Miss Dubois,” spoke Altair, irritated.

Aveline stared back defiantly. Altair struck her with a quick, “Finite. Obliviate. Stupefy. Accio.”

Her cuffs jumped into the fire. Altair’s mood darkened. “I was a student too. Detachable Cribbing Cuffs!” he spat.

He turned wearily to Albus and Gellert and pointed his wand between them in quick succession. Their robes slid off them and jumped into the raging fire outside, spawning small chimeras.

He reached the limits of his patience. “Do not charm or transfigure your clothes, skin or viscera. Not everything is solved with the nullifying charm.”

Albus gave a solemn nod.

“Obliviate. Stupefy.” Albus joined the women on the floor.

Gellert gave a guilty smile and rolled up his grey pants. “ALTAIR” was scrawled in ash behind both knees.

Altair poked with his wand. “Tergeo.” The ash was siphoned off.

Gellert nodded. Altair’s eyes looked right through him. Gellert sighed and rolled up his blue sleeves. He had cut “BLACK” into the skin above his elbow.

Another hard prod followed. Altair enunciated, “Episkey.” The wound healed without a trace. Gellert awaited his fate with a defeated face.

An arm came to rest on his shoulder. Altair whispered, “I have seen this Egbert’s mind. You have been teaching each other forbidden magic.” Gellert froze.

“I could wipe your mind and leave you to your path — but I will have to come for you. Again.”

Gellert did not react.

Altair looked gravely at Gellert. He said, “I think I shall try something different with you.”

“IMPERIO.”

A haze settled over his mind; a wand eased into his grip. His unease faded like the Fiendfyre before him. A voice declared, “Albus, Hanna, Egbert, Aveline and you came to the icon. Egbert and you planned to ambush and kidnap Dumbledore.”

Gellert was confused. “Kidnap Dumbledore?”

The voice assured, “Kidnap. Egbert wanted to find Nicholas Flamel.”

Gellert thought, “Flamel? The Elder Wand —”

The voice returned, a sly edge to it. “Egbert betrayed you. He used you and escaped.”

Gellert persisted, “But Black?”

“Confundus! Obliviate!”

Gellert agreed, “Egbert betrayed me.” He turned a dark look on the surprised wizards apparating in.

No sign remained of the Bolt of ICW.