Altair hadn't spoken to his sister for a long time. The last time they interacted, Snape gifted him a scar on his cheek.
Yesterday, after she interrupted them in his room, his mother asked him to leave. Being a good son, he obeyed.
He never found out what they had talked about. Although his mother seemed angry at the time, she left the room looking happy. His sister, on the other hand, gave him reproachful looks every time she saw him. They were filled with both reproach and guilt.
Meanwhile, life at Hogwarts was moving at a fast pace, with growing rumours, exams, and Quidditch matches.
The next match would be Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. His house against his girlfriend's. Altair wore a red scarf to show his support for Harley. Honestly, he didn't like many people in Ravenclaw: Probably only Azalea, Luna, and Professor Flitwick.
Azalea supported her sister.
Luna had a lion roaring above her head. She wasn't close to Harley, but she was close to Lav. Lav had adopted her. She even did her makeup once.
It was a disaster. Luna preferred a clown-like style to traditional makeup. Lavender made sure she never touched her cosmetics again.
Altair had a small smile on his face as he walked towards the Quidditch pitch. He found a spot in the corner of the stands and received a few curious glances.
Soon, however, the glances faded, and he felt the weight of the bench shift as someone sat down next to him.
"Do you have a favourite, young Black?" the stranger asked.
Altair noticed that nobody was looking at them, as if they were ignoring his presence consciously.
"I hope Gryffindor wins, of course. Harley is going to play harder than ever," replied the black-haired boy.
"She's actually a strong woman," he added. "She seems angry with everyone, and she's good at channelling that anger into her game," he finished thoughtfully.
"She is," Altair said with a hint of guilt.
Since the video was leaked, the girl had seemed to be at the centre of mockery and contemptuous glances. It was nothing she wasn't used to, but that didn't mean it didn't bother her.
"I'm proud of my granddaughter," Dumbledore commented. "Of all my grandchildren, even Charles, who is a little wayward, he has a good heart," he added.
"I've only known the worst of him," Altair replied. He only knew the arrogant, whiny child.
"There is goodness within everyone," replied the headmaster.
"You think my father has goodness in him?" asked the young man.
The headmaster remained silent, weighing his response.
"There is goodness in all humans, your father isn't," he eventually said.
"And Voldemort?" asked Altair again. In previous days, he might have hesitated to say his name.
"I believe there was at one time. But it died long ago. He became something more than human: An abomination. He wasn't human; he wasn't a demon; he wasn't a half-breed. He was an unstable amalgamation of magic that survived by sheer force of will. He became incredibly strong, but he was like a glass cannon. A pretty tough glass, though, since he made it. I never faced him after the ritual where he stole your magic, but I think I would lose if I didn't prepare properly." Dumbledore digressed a little.
"That's a much longer answer than I expected," the boy confessed.
"That's because you need a little context. Thank you for mentioning Voldemort, it will save me from going around in circles until I can steer the conversation towards him," said the old man. "Voldemort is alive," he said casually. "Not in physical form. But as a spectre. I think you're one of his targets. After all, his strength comes from you," he explained.
"Target?" He knew that, in the original story, Voldemort had been resurrected using Harry's blood. Their relationship was that of enemies, which was not the case here.
"Yes. There are many rituals in which a spectre could possess the body of a wizard. He could build a body from scratch, but wouldn't a strong, young body with great potential be better?" he continued.
"You think Voldemort is after me because of that? But even then, it's not that easy to suppress a wizard's magic inside his own body. Does the fact that Voldemort knows my magic make it more likely that he will possess my body?" he asked, intrigued.
"Yes," came the short answer. "I never told you how Lily was conceived, did I?" he asked.
"I don't think we were ever that close, sir," said Altair, sitting up straight in his seat. There were about twenty minutes left before the game started.
"Oh, but now we're practically family," he said jubilantly. "We've always been obsessed with eternal life. We believed that the way to change the wizarding world was through power: We wanted to create a new wizarding order where wizards ruled over Muggles and brought them progress. But how long could we hold on to it once we had everything under our control? Only one lifetime. What would happen to what we created after our death?" he said. "Gellert told me about the Deathly Hallows: The wand, the cloak and the stone. Mystical objects sought after throughout history. We were so young," he sighed wearily.
"You still have a hundred years left, Professor," Altair commented, earning a small laugh.
"Perhaps not so many," he said mysteriously. "The relics were a waste of time. We never found them," he said, telling a half-truth as he had interacted with two of them. "Even so, we continued to investigate death. One of the things we agreed on was that the two of us had to rule. Monarchy has proven to stifle progress. Two minds are better than one, we thought." He paused for a moment. "What I'm about to tell you embarrasses me," he confessed.
"Is it necessary?" he asked tactfully.
'It is. One afternoon, Gellert and I got into an argument. Our plans were diverging. I suggested trying to convince the wizarding world. Gellert thought it unnecessary to listen to them; he wanted to force the conflict. The situation escalated to the point where curses began to fly. I don't know how it happened, but my brother got involved." His face was stony and serious. "And along with my brother, Ariana, my younger sister, appeared. We never found out who was responsible for her death. After that night, my relationship with my brother and Gellert vanished," he sighed. "Gellert and I researched immortality beyond the Deathly Hallows. During one of our discussions, we realised that even if our bodies couldn't live beyond a certain age, we could simply create a new body and transfer our souls into it. We toyed with that idea for a while. We created spare bodies in case one of us died." Altair discovered that Azalea's ideas about the research came from the two of them.
"You tried to revive Ariana; you created a new body for her," said Altair after a moment of silence.
"I did. I used my blood and Gellert's to bring her to life. Everything went much better than I planned. The body was ready. All I needed was a ritual to attract my sister's soul and place it in the body." His lips seemed dry. "I couldn't do it. Not because I lacked the ability, or that's so I thought back then. It's just that the body was that of a baby. A red-haired girl with green eyes, I could see features of myself and Gellert in her. That was not supposed to happen," he said, now seeming affectionate. "And something even stranger happened... she had a soul," he said in a high-pitched tone. "A soul can't just be created accidentally, but somehow that girl managed to create one. I never knew how or why, but after that day, I put the girl into a extasis spell and hid all the research. I destroyed my backup bodies and Gellert's," he said carefully. "The girl remained frozen in time for years. I didn't know what to do with her. I fought Gellert's entire war with that girl in mind. Many years later, I decided to leave her with a Muggle family who were struggling to conceive. I couldn't look at her without feeling guilty. I felt that her existence was a mistake created by my madness." He finished.
"Do you think it was love, professor?" Altair asked. "You and Gellert were more than friends, weren't you? Even through the distance and hatred, a fragment of that love remained between you. When two people procreate, they exchange genes, feelings and a part of their soul. As you described the process of creating Lily, your genes, feelings and souls were all present. I'm sure your soul was broken at that moment. She's not a mistake; she's your daughter, conceived in an unconventional way." He didn't know why, but he felt a trace of empathy for the headmaster and knew he should comfort him. Even with corny reasons like love.
"Love is the most powerful magic of all," said the professor. "Thank you," he whispered. "But there's a reason for all this. One of the parts of creating a replacement body is infusing it with your magic. It was a miracle that he never tried to put Ariana's soul into Lily's body, or her magic could have destroyed her. Besides, Ariana was... special. Voldemort knows about my research somehow. If I had to guess, I'd say it was Gellert who told him. He may see you as a vessel or an ingredient in the creation of his new body." He finished.
Altair gritted his teeth, but not because he feared Voldemort. He simply had enough on his plate with his father to worry about someone else.
"Any advice?" he asked.
"Fornicate like crazy," replied the headmaster. "And train. During the summer vacation, you'll go to Japan. Voldemort wouldn't risk attacking you there, so you'll be relatively safe. Besides, I'll leave my research in your hands, maybe you'll find a way to protect your soul," said the Headmaster, surprising him.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes wide.
"Yes, you're already almost immortal. If only I had known that such a species already existed..." he said bitterly.
"You seem to trust me."
"A little. You remind me of Gellert. Although without that hint of unnecessary cruelty. "Altair wondered if he would still think that after learning what he had done to the Malfoys. "Ah, I can see what you're thinking. Even the way you took your revenge... Gellert was more cruel. I can't see the perversion in your eyes after achieving your revenge; there is satisfaction, yes, but not too much. Also, you got Lucius out of the way... well, my life in the Wizengamot will be more peaceful."
Dumbledore didn't know about the elf, Draco, or perhaps he would have thought differently.
"You're welcome?" he said uncomfortably.
'Ah, I may have forgotten to mention that your grandfather, Arcturus, is with Voldemort. I don't know if that's relevant to you," he said, standing up. "The game will start soon. Do you think it would be appropriate to cast a fireworks spell that says Long live Gryffindor?" he asked with a smile, cutting the tension like butter.
"I think that would be inappropriate, sir. Harley would be unbearable for days," he replied, smiling.
"Maybe I won't then," he said, twinkling. "By the way, take care of my granddaughter. It wouldn't be good to see her with a broken heart," he said lightly, walking towards the teachers' stands.
"Oh, of course, although I think the correct term would be granddaughters," said Altair. The headmaster looked at him for a few seconds.
"Gryffindor is on the field!" Said the announcer. The headmaster gave him a last look and walked away like a diva.