Chapter Text
It was a rainy night like every other, and yet, something was twisting through the shadows. Will could feel it--it seeped into the wet stones underneath his feet as he hurried back to his office, a night stroll turned damp and cold. Of course, in a place like Hogwarts, mystery shrouded every dusty corner of the castle. He ignored the tingling sensation in his lower back and stomach as he swept through the halls, heading up to the Ravenclaw wing. His office resided near their common rooms, and he could hear the thunder rumbling above his head as he climbed higher into the towers. Finally, he passed the dormitory’s door on the right and headed into his office on the left. Inside, the rain pattered against the windows as he gently closed the heavy, iron-clad door and locked it.
The fireplace was dark, the sole light being a single lamp he had left lit before heading out. Sighing, he shrugged off his outer robe and hung it on a hook near the door. His shoulders relaxed, and he tugged his wand out of his thick hiking boots. It was an aspen wand of eight inches, dragon heartstring. When Will first got his wand at Ollivanders, he knew what it wanted from him. This wand was one that was temperamental, powerful. Suited to charmwork and marital magic, it chose an owner that was strong-minded and determined, and yet could act on impulse and was not resilient to change. Will had pondered this analysis for the longest time, learning to accept that this was what his wand wanted from him. With a quick up-and-down flick of his wrist, he set the fireplace alight with a silent Incendio, and promptly set his wand down on his desk. He settled down into an easy chair placed next to the fireplace, of which he had been sleeping in as of late. He began unlacing his boots, fingers warming up from the cold outside, when he heard a light knock on his door. Not knowing what time it was, but assuming it was quite late, he reluctantly got up from his chair.
The person behind the door knocked again before he could open it.
“Calm down, I’m coming,” he said, unlocking the large door and heaving it open. A tiny Ravenclaw first year stood there, a distraught look on his face. Will immediately could sense that something was wrong, nothing major, but something had happened.
“What is it?” he said, crouching down to his level so they would be face to face. “Did one of the fifth years break something again?”
The small first year shook his head--Will racked his brain for names. “...Charles? Do you want me to come with you?” Charles nodded and Will stood up, taking the 11-year old’s hand. “Let’s go check it out, ok?” Will let Charles lead him to the door of the dormitories, where Will knocked on the eagle knocker three times. It opened its bronze beak.
“You measure my life in hours, and I serve you by expiring. I’m quick when I’m thin and slow when I’m fat. Wind is my enemy. What am I?”
“A candle,” Will said quickly. The door swung open, and Will saw a decent amount of Ravenclaws standing around something on the floor. He then noticed the broken window, rain and wind rushing in. No one had bothered to fix it, which struck Will as odd. He gently moved his Ravenclaws aside to see what had crashed through the window. One of the sixth-years was crouched on the floor, holding something in their arms. Will could see it clearly--a baby thestral had thrown itself through the window. However, only a few others aside from himself seemed to be able to see it.
“Stand back,” he commanded, and they parted to let him through. He crouched down beside the sixth-year, who handed it to Will with trembling arms. He could sense how distraught they were--not only from seeing a thestral, but to have one dying in their arms. Will stood, holding the thestral gently. “Ok, everyone. I’m going to take this thestral to the Groundskeeper, while you all stay here. Someone needs to fix that window while I’m gone, ok? I’ll be back soon--keep each other safe. Especially you, seventh-years.” The seventh-years all murmured assent, and Will smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure the thestral will be ok. Keep a look out for me.”
Will left the common room promptly, only stopping by his office to grab his wand where he left it. The thestral was still breathing, albeit weakly. It was the size of a large dog, which Will had much experience handling. Carefully, he stuck his wand into his boot and made the trek outside. It was long, and he almost slipped a few times going down the six flights of stairs, but he finally made it onto the grounds. The castle was quiet, save for a few windows lit up with candles. He made the muddy walk down the steep hill to the Groundskeeper’s cottage, where he could see the windows alight from within. A few sheep slept underneath the outside awning, oblivious to the downpour happening a few feet from them. Will knocked on the door, but only once, as it was whisked open just as he went to knock it again. The Groundskeeper, Molly, ushered him inside.
“What the hell happened?” Molly asked, sweeping a few dishes off of her large dinner table so Will could place the thestral down. Molly’s cottage was rustic, cluttered, and Will felt right at home. It reminded him of his own office, and he always loved coming down here for tea. Now, the clutter was constricting. His limited movement as he placed the thestral down led to a clench of anxiety in his chest, but he ignored it. He moved out of the way as Molly examined the thestral thoroughly--she could see it too.
“Came right through the window in the common room. I had just gotten back from a walk.”
Molly hummed, deep in thought. She opened her ice box and pulled out a raw-ish steak, handing it to Will. The texture did not bode well for his anxiety, but he held on nonetheless. She went to work wrapping the thestral’s wounds with gauze and cotton, but the thestral still could not breathe. Will set the steak down on the table, and pulled out his wand. He cast Anapneo on the thestral’s throat, but it seemed like the thing blocking its airway would not be Vanished. Molly silently held the thestral down while Will used his wand and hands to open the thestral’s mouth, peering down it’s constricting throat. A white glint met him, and he (stupidly) reached his unprotected hand down its gaping maw. He felt for the object, grabbed it, and pulled it out with little trouble. The thestral gasped in oxygen, chest heaving. Will was trembling, covered in sweat and a little bit of thestral blood. Molly rushed to the thestral’s side while Will examined the foreign object.
“Molly, this is for the Headmistress. Will you be able to take care of him yourself?”
Molly didn’t even look up, just shooed him out the door. As he rushed off, he could have sworn he heard her cuss him out for coming so late at night. He reached the side door he came out through, and when stepping in, was practically accosted by the caretaker, Abel Gideon.
“Gideon--” he started, but Gideon cut him off.
“Aha!” he said, with an air of glee. “You’re coming with me, Mr. Graham.”
Will struggled, but Gideon was a lot more well-rested than he was, and eventually let Gideon drag him to the headmistress’s office. “I mean, I was going here anyways,” he started, but Gideon stopped him again.
“To kill the headmistress? Likely story.”
Now Will was confused. Kill the headmistress? Who would want to kill the headmistress?
On second thought, a lot of people. Still, he wondered why now, of all times, someone would attempt to try.
“This is your stop,” Gideon said while unceremoniously throwing Will at the base of the large eagle statue that led to the headmistress’s office. “Acid Pops,” Gideon said at the eagle, and then left Will alone. The eagle began to move, revealing a staircase going upwards. Will was tired of stairs. He climbed them to the top, hearing voices up above. They all sounded various levels of worried, save for one voice that was disturbingly calm. Will could sense it, too. All of the people in the office (four?) save for one, were in states of distress. One person felt almost cold to him--like he’d rather be anywhere else. Will knocked on the door, one of what felt like a thousand times that evening, and it opened to the grim face of one Jack Crawford, Minister of Magic. Will suddenly became rather self conscious of the image he was projecting to his boss and also the leader of the Magic world--a bloody, sweaty, slightly mucus-y, poured-on mess of a man who probably looked as feral as they come.
“Mr. Crawford, why--?” Will looked past Crawford to see Headmistress Bloom standing behind her desk with two Aurors; a man with a pristine haircut, and a woman wearing a leather jacket standing across from her.
“Please, Mr. Graham, come in,” Crawford said in a deep voice Will wasn’t expecting. He timidly crossed the threshold, and Crawford shut the door behind him. Will locked eyes with the man across the room. The first thing he noticed was that he was unconventionally attractive. He had striking eyes and cheekbones, and his posture and robes screamed elegance. The second thing he noticed was that they were all staring at him, and he was just blatantly ogling some random dude he just met. He cleared his throat.
“What is this about?” he asked, putting on a brave face. “I was just practically assaulted by Gideon.”
Alana sighed, rubbing her temples. The woman to her left looked like she wanted to say something, but Crawford cut her off.
“Mr. Graham, one of your students was found dead tonight.”
Will stood there. He blinked a few times.
“Dead?”
“Dead.” Crawford repeated. “A second-year Ravenclaw’s body was found on the top of the Astronomy tower by your caretaker. We’d like you to ID the body, as well as provide a statement.”
“A statement?” Will laughed. “Am I a suspect?”
He realized how dumb that sounded. Of course he was, he was covered in blood and was wandering around outside. They all continued to stare at him, before he quickly backtracked. “Ok, I get that. Blood and all. It’s not human, though.” That earned him a quizzical look from Crawford and company, so he launched into an explanation. “A thestral--a baby one--crashed through our common room window. I wasn’t there when it happened, or maybe I was. See," he paused to swallow and take a breath. "I had been out for a walk across the grounds to practice a few Charms I wished to teach in class tomorrow. The last time I practiced indoors, I almost set my desk on fire. I went back early because it had begun to rain, and just as I had gotten back into my office and hung up my coat, a first year came to get me. His name is Charles Dougherty, and when we reached the common room, the window was broken and the thestral was on the floor. I took the thestral to Molly’s--she’s the groundskeeper and the professor for Care of Magical Creatures. There was this in its throat,”
and he showed them the slightly slimy object he had wrenched out of its mouth. It was, upon further inspection, a small scroll encased in glass. It was addressed to Alana. Will handed Crawford the scroll, and he popped it open. He then unfurled the scroll to read aloud.
“I have waited long enough in the shadows. Finally, I have gained the power to fight back. Change is coming through your school, and the Ravenclaws will only be the beginning. A Great Red Dragon has been borne, and flesh and blood spilled will feed its terrible wrath.”
Will needed to sit down. He spotted a chair a few feet away, and stumbled to it, collapsing in its arms. They all stared at him, openly. He didn’t care at this point, let them stare away.
“Will--” Alana started, but he threw up a hand to cut her off. Someone was planning on attacking all of the Ravenclaw students, and there he was, galavanting around outside with Molly and some half-dead thestral. He brought his hand to his head, and took off his glasses. He sat there, with his eyes closed, as the others in the room whispered back and forth about what to do. He felt someone come up beside him--the foreign man, from his quiet aura. The man grabbed him lightly on the shoulder, and he looked up. Upon further inspection after putting his glasses back on, this man must have been at least ten years older than him, from the fine wrinkles and the grey here and there in his hair. Will shook his head, looking down.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, but he felt the man shake his head.
“There is no need to be sorry,” the man said in a heavily accented voice. French, maybe? No, it was too smooth for that. “This is a difficult time. I assume you must be having many different, somewhat concerning thoughts.” Will nodded, and the man helped him stand up. He didn’t recognize how tired he was until he had sat down for a minute. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Two thirty,” the man replied. Will sighed. Later than what he had assumed.
“I’d like to go look at the body, now,” he announced, and the other three wizards looked at him.
“Lecter, you take him up there. Katz will stay with me while Headmistress Bloom and I deliberate about what to do next,” Crawford ordered. The man, Lecter, (an odd name), led Will out of the office and onto the staircase.
“I presume you know where you are going?” Lecter said, and Will nodded.
“It’s not too far out of the way.” They descended the staircase and ended up in the hallway outside of the stairwell. As they walked, Will felt the need to break the silence. All that could be heard was the crackling of the castle’s torches and the rain outside.
“So, Lecter, where did you go to school? I assume not here--your accent isn’t vaguely Scottish or English.”
Lecter hummed, a rich sound. “Please, Mr. Graham, call me Hannibal. Lecter is my last name. Jack tends to order us around like that.” Hannibal said as they rounded a corner.
Will reddened. He had just assumed Lecter was his first name. His actual first name, however, was just as interesting. “Names aside,” Hannibal continued, “I went to the Koldovstoretz School of Magic. I wished to go to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, but my parents insisted on Koldovstoretz.”
Will thought for a minute. “That’s in Russia, right?”
Hannibal smiled. “That’s correct. You must know your geography well, Mr. Graham. Not a lot of people know about Koldovstoretz.”
“The name gives it away,” Will said.
“That it does. It is very distinctly Russian.”
Will moved to open his mouth, but Hannibal was one step ahead of him.
“Before you ask, I am from Lithuania. Pure-blooded, although that does not matter. Not many witches and wizards are to be found in Lithuania, so I assume my parents must be distantly related.”
Will laughed at that, and Hannibal smiled again. They reached the staircase to the Astronomy tower, and Hannibal let Will take the lead. Will noticed how closely the Auror was following him, looking out the windows and taking carefully measured steps.
“Scared of heights?” he asked, before he could stop himself. He heard the sound of Hannibal walking stop behind him, and he turned around. Hannibal was looking out the window, an unreadable expression on his face. “Homesick?” Will asked, glancing out the window with him. He could see the Forbidden Forest in the distance, as well as a small light from Molly’s cottage. He wondered if the thestral was alright.
“How did you know?” Hannibal asked, a note of rawness in his voice. Very small, but Will picked up on it. “I’m an empath,” he responded. “I felt it. You probably don’t think of home very often, but I guess our conversation reminded you of where you used to live.”
Hannibal’s face both lit up and fell, a duality Will wasn’t used to seeing.
“It did,” Hannibal responded simply. If Will didn’t miss his guess, Hannibal had some things going on in his past that he’d rather not talk about. Will dropped it, and they moved on. Finally, they reached the top of the astronomy tower, where a few other Aurors were standing. They had conjured up ropes around the area, most likely to keep out nosy people like Gideon. They had also put up a magical barrier over the tower to prevent the rain from mucking up the crime scene even more. Smart.
“Mr. Graham, these are my associates, Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price. Zeller, Price, Mr. Graham.” Hannibal gestured at the two other Aurors there. Zeller waved nonchalantly, siphoning some blood up off the stones with his wand into a small vial. Price had a scroll out, and was jotting down notes. He looked up, glancing Will up and down.
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re the head of Ravenclaw house?” Price said, extending a gloved hand. Will took it, and looked to the body, which was covered by a thin, white sheet. “Yeah, it’s pretty rough,” Price continued. “We honestly don’t see stuff like this that often.” Will leaned down and lifted the cloth gently from the student’s head. It was a third-year. Her name is...was Alma Roberts. He set the cloth back down and stood up. “How extensive are the wounds?” he asked Price, who hummed and looked near the top of the scroll, where a body diagram was extensively labeled.
“Well,” Price said, “I wouldn’t have wanted to be her. She’s got, as you know, both eyes missing, as well as a few missing organs. A kidney here, a heart there, ex cetera. She’s been stitched back together, though. It seems like overkill, considering that wasn’t the cause of death.”
“What was?” Will asked, glancing at the scroll.
“Gunshot to the head. A Muggle weapon. Not surprising, since that can’t be traced by magic.”
“Easiest way to get away with murder, since we don’t know jack shit about Muggle weapons,” Zeller added from Will’s left.
“Yes,” Price bantered back, “if only our benevolent Minister would allow us to study Muggles, idiots that they are.”
“Hey, asshole, I’m half Muggle.”
“It shows.”
“Please, not now, the both of you,” Hannibal interrupted. “Mr. Graham here is an empath, so he may be able to offer some insight.”
That had gotten their attention. “An empath?” Zeller asked. “Can you read my mind?”
“No.” Will said. “Hannibal is right, however. I noticed that this wasn’t... anger , per say. It feels more like a mercy killing? I think whoever did this intended to change her, perhaps from alive to dead. It reminds me of what he said in the letter--change is coming.”
They all stood there, mulling over what the hell change meant. “Also,” Will added, “This wasn’t a second-year. This is a third-year; her name was Alma Roberts.”
Price noted that on his scroll, and suddenly Will felt extremely nauseous. He ran over to the side of the tower and promptly vomited over it, tears stinging his eyes. He felt a wave of pain hit his scapula, and cried out into the night. All he could hear was a ringing behind his ears. It hit him, just then. This murder was only the beginning. What he had felt from this kill was a rebirth.
Slumped against the side of the tower, he felt a large, warm hand on his back. His glasses were gently removed as another wave of nausea hit him, the image of the girl’s slack face burned into his eyelids. He only brought up bile this time, coughing hard. He heard voices behind him, but didn’t register who they belonged to.
Finally, the nausea stopped, and he took a deep breath. Looking around, he noticed through a haze that Price and Zeller left, and Hannibal was on the other side of the tower. “I’m sorry,” Will said for the second time that night. Hannibal dismissed it with a wave of his hand and walked over to where Will was standing, trembling.
“Here,” Hannibal said, and handed Will his glasses. Will thanked him, and they descended the tower. Will noticed that Hannibal’s hand was still on his back, and he realized that he appreciated it. Once they were out of the tower, Will stumbled over to a stone bench etched in the wall and sat down. Hannibal stayed standing, but to the side of Will’s vision.
“I hate to be the person to say this, but I believe we need to return to Headmistress Alana’s office. I understand you aren’t feeling well, but we must confer with her about what to do next.”
Will’s throat burned, but he nodded and said “I agree. I think...I think more murders are going to come.”
Hannibal’s solemn face was all he needed to know. Of course there would be more. And of course it was the kids he cared about. Alma had been one of the sweetest students he’d ever met, albeit a tad lazy. Still, she was a good leader for the first-years and he envied how well she got along with the younger kids. She’s gone, though, Will thought, running a hand through his hair. Damn. He stood up, and took the lead, Hannibal trailing behind him.
“Acid Pops,” he said to the eagle, and they ascended the staircase. In the office, Crawford and Alana were waiting. Katz was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Zeller and Price. Hannibal shut the door behind him while Will stood near the edge of Alana’s desk.
“We’ve reached a conclusion,” Alana said, sitting down at her desk. She motioned for the men to do the same, and they all sat at various points in her office. “Will, you’ll continue teaching, and the students will continue to learn. There is no point in creating an uproar within the school--parents and other schools alike will scorn us for ages to come. However, we will notify the other staff members of what is going on, as well as the prefects. I’ve also decided to bring in more security, subtle, of course. I will have Aurors stationed throughout the school to provide as bodyguards. If a child asks why, the story is to be that we have added more security thanks to the chagrin of parents--they won’t question it. Extra Aurors will be stationed to the Ravenclaw common room, as well as the grounds.”
Will took it all in. “Will they be disguised, at least?” Alana nodded.
“I do not wish for our younger students to panic. Also,” she added, gesturing at Hannibal, “I’m assigning him to be your personal guard. You are the head of Ravenclaw house, I’m sure the killer will go after you at some point. He is to be with you at all hours of the day, and you’ll need a cover story for him as well. None of the other professors will be receiving guards, so it will seem a bit odd.”
Hannibal murmured assent, and Will nodded. To be honest, it was a lot to take in. It was sort of going in one ear and out the other.
“How about we pretend to be dating?” Hannibal offered, and it jolted Will from his stupor.
“What?” he said incredulously, looking at Hannibal.
“I’m being serious,” he replied. Will could tell that he was mostly being truthful, but there was a bit of playfulness hidden in his voice. “I could be your classroom assistant in lectures, but if we go to Hogsmeade or anywhere not within the castle it would seem odd.”
He had a point, a voice in Will’s mind reasoned. “Still,” Will said, “You’re not exactly...how do I put this...my type? I’m sorry, but I don’t find you interesting in that way.”
Hannibal chuckled. “You will. Or at least, you will pretend to.”
Somehow, they had reached a decision without Will’s input being considered. Crawford and Alana seemed very on board with it, and Will sighed. His fate was sealed. However, he could endure it for the sake of his students.
“With that settled,” Crawford said, “It is now early morning, so I suggest Mr. Graham take Lecter where he will be staying for the duration of however long it takes to catch this sick son of a bitch. Classes will be starting soon. Thank you for your cooperation, Headmistress.” The Minister swept out of the room, most likely to return to the Ministry. Alana sighed. “All of the Astronomy classes will have to be cancelled until further notice--I’ll just say that part of the castle broke off or something along those lines.”
She motioned for them to leave her office, and they did. Will stayed silent as he glanced out of the window nearby, at the bottom of the eagle’s staircase. The horizon was ever so slightly lightened, and Will almost wanted to cry. Another all nighter, except this one was different from any other he’d ever had.
“Alright, then,” he said to Hannibal, who was pretending to study a painting down the hall. “Let’s go get ready for the day.”
Will wasn’t sure what awaited the two of them, but it was sure to get crazy.