The Traveler's Secret

CHAPTER 22: SUSPICION AND DREAD

Frederick drummed his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. Albus was late and he was never late. Frederick felt his irritation rise. Ever since the Hogsmeade attack, Albus had become more secretive than ever. Frederick had been helping Albus with the experimental spells they were performing on Sergei Krum. It had been quite frustrating to Frederick because he was not use to failure, but whatever Vladimir Krum did, it made the blueprints impossible to detach from Sergei; Krum would have to be killed for the plans to come unattached, but that would activate the family spell and destroy the plans anyway.

Frederick had to admit that Vladimir was a genius. He hated being presented with a problem and having no way to fix it. But what he hated most was not being allowed to work on the problem at all. Albus had decided to take over Sergei's perplexing dilemma on his own. It had not been a pleasant conversation between the two Dumbledores when Albus had told Frederick that he would rather work on Sergei alone. Frederick had become incensed because he knew what that was really about.

It had been a few days since Hogsmeade had been attacked, but the attack was still fresh in everyone's mind and had set the teachers and Headmaster on edge. Though the students had left the school, save for a few who didn't have anywhere to go at the moment, and had made it home safely, the teachers were still on high alert. Most had opted to stay at Hogwarts for the time being just in case Hogsmeade or the castle came under attack again. And many had heard the rumors that had been spreading about a traitor in their midst. Suspicion and dread had seeped into the castle walls.

But there were other things that were troubling the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As of late, there had been people about that had been doing odd things, Professor Vikious being one such person. Frederick had caught the Potions Master up on the roof of the Astronomy Tower many times since the attack. Frederick had an idea about what Vikious was doing up there, but didn't have all the details; whatever it was he was doing, the Potions Master was always worn out when he came down.

Frederick sighed in frustration with everything that was happening around him. He looked out his window that had a pleasant view of the lake, and watched as the noon sun turned everything to gold. Albus must be done with whatever experiments he was doing on Sergei without him. He had promised to see Frederick and to at least keep him informed on the developments, even if Frederick couldn't participate.

A knock at Frederick's door aroused the man from his contemplative state. He quickly got up from his chair and strode over to the door. When he opened it, he was greatly disappointed as to who stood on the other side, but didn't allow an ounce of it to show on his thin, pale face.

Tom Riddle, on the other hand, had not been able to cover up the flash of emotion that Frederick saw. A glint of a mischievous nature had shot across his face as brilliant and as fleeting as a shooting star. Even if Frederick had been disappointed, he did have to admit he was intrigued as to why the fourteen year old boy was at his door; all classes had ended and no students, save a few, were left at Hogwarts. Frederick knew Riddle's story; every teacher knew his story.

He was the unfortunate, but brilliant orphan, who, every summer, returned to a small orphanage in London. This year the orphanage was undergoing renovations and the children had been moved to a smaller location. Tom had not been factored in on the space availability in the new location and therefore had no real place to go for the summer until the renovations were complete. And so, the Headmaster had made an allowance for the boy to stay here until they could find a place for him or someone to take him in.

"What can I do for you, Tom?" Frederick asked politely.

Tom stared at the Professor for a moment, contemplating what his answer should be. Frederick thought this interesting; Riddle had always been peculiar.

"I was just passing by your office when I saw the Muggle walking about the castle unwatched. Sir, isn't that man suspected of treacherous activity? It seems quite odd that he should be allowed out of his room," Riddle replied.

Frederick could hear an underlying tremor of anger and hatred. He knew that Riddle wanted to say more on the matter, but that Tom was also aware of how fluid the situation was where Jean Fulver was concerned.

"Yes, it seems our guest has been cleared of all charges, but how you knew anything of the matter is of great interest to me. Tell me, Tom, who told you about Jean Fulver?"

"I saw them haul the man away after dinner last night. It really doesn't take much to put together what was happening Professor. Why a dangerous Muggle should be allowed to stay in the castle is puzzling. Should I be afraid?" asked Riddle.

Tom's eyes lit up when he asked the last question, as if he wasn't really afraid of the Frenchman at all. Frederick saw some another emotion there, a dark fascination, as if Tom relished the idea of facing Fulver rather than fearing him.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore has vouched for the man and thus we can be assured that he is not dangerous."

'Yes, but what do you say? Tell the truth!" The last words trembled off of Riddle's lips as he spoke them.

Frederick's face flushed by the boy's demanding question; he was self conscious that Tom had seen right through his guise. Riddle had known that Frederick had not agreed with the decision of letting Jean Fulver out of the confinement of his room. It was yet another thing that Frederick was frustrated with Albus about. How could his cousin, of all people, trust a Muggle after what Muggles had done to Ariana, his own sister?

Frederick felt his blood boil inside him as the old wound he had carried with him for so long was brought to light. He, not Albus, had been with Aberforth when Ariana's broken body had been found in the clearing not too far from where the Dumbledores had lived at the time. Frederick had never been able to forget how her limbs had been so lifeless and her breathes had been jagged and painful. He hadn't been able to forget the dimming light in her eyes and the copious amount of blood that covered her tiny body. To Frederick, the true Ariana had died that day. The body that lived was never the sweet and carefree child he had known from his childhood.

"Professor, you haven't answered my question."

Riddle's harsh words snagged Frederick's mind and yanked him back to reality. His heart throbbed as the memory he had tried so hard to bury replayed over and over again in his thoughts.

"I say that Albus' judgment can be trusted," Frederick finally responded.

Tom grimaced as if he had expected Frederick to say something very different. It was clear that Riddle did not have a high opinion of Albus' judgment.

"Was there anything else that you needed?" Frederick asked.

"There is one thing. I was thinking of getting ahead on my Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons and was wondering if I may, for the time being, have some private lessons. I'm sure there are many dark spells that you know and I should really like to learn...a defense against them," Tom replied.

Frederick had heard the hesitation in Tom's voice near the end, and he had a feeling that Tom wanted more than to just learn how to defend himself against dark spells.

"Tom, it's the summer. Relax and enjoy it. There will be plenty of time next year for learning those things."

Anger paled Tom's face, but it was soon replaced by a wide grin and overlarge pleading eyes.

"Oh, but Professor, I so want to learn everything there is to know. One day I want to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher just like you!"

Frederick sighed. He could tell he was not going to get rid of Tom that easily.

"Well, Tom, I will consider private lessons, but not right now. With everything in an uproar, there is not much time for private lessons, but I'm sure we can work something out, until, of course, you go home to the orphanage," Frederick answered.

Anger flashed over Tom's features again, twisting his handsome face into something grotesque, but only for a moment. Before Tom could answer, Albus walked up to the door. His eyes narrowed when he saw the fourteen year old boy standing at Frederick's door. Surely Albus doesn't suspect that a fourteen year old could be the traitor, thought Frederick, but his cousin was trusting no one at the moment, no one except Johnny Wolfbane and the damnable Jean Fulver. How Albus could be so blind to how dangerous the Muggle was was beyond Frederick's understanding. To Frederick, the Muggle world was a nest of vipers waiting to attack the wizarding world.

Riddle turned to Albus, managing to cover up his anger and smiled at the Transfiguration teacher.

"Tom, what are you doing here?" Albus asked.

"Oh, I was just asking Professor Dumbledore if I can have some private lessons on Defensive spells. I want to learn everything I can," Riddle replied sweetly.

Albus scrutinized the boy for a moment, but thought it not worth his while to ask anything more. He had more important things to attend to.

Riddle, guessing that his time was up, moved away from the door and, after flashing Frederick a wide grin, turned and left.

Albus waited until Riddle left the teacher's corridor, and then turned back to Frederick. A plaintive and sorry look was imbued in Albus' face as his blue eyes locked onto his cousin.

"I have come to tell you great news, but let's talk about this inside your room," Albus stated.

Frederick nodded stoutly, his irritation right on the surface, barely covered up by a thin layer of civility. When inside, Frederick showed Albus to a plush armchair that was positioned near his desk, which was near his fireplace, and then shut the door to his room. His own chair sat behind his desk. Lining his walls were long strips of shelves which held a multitude of thick, but pristinely kept books. Frederick never let dust touch their surfaces. Most of the books were written in ancient or forgotten languages that had taken Frederick ages to learn, and all were concerned about the Dark Arts. He knew his subject very well. In the far corner was his bed, which was neat and clean.

Albus took the chair that Frederick offered him and sat down with a heavy sigh. Frederick noticed, for the first time that day, how incredibly tired Albus looked. He was more than just tired; he was exhausted from worry, fear and the lack of sleep. Albus never did know when to relax or back off a matter. Frederick sat down in his own chair, his eyes never really leaving his worn out cousin. Albus' eyes were dazed and out of focus as if sleep was sucking him deep within her dark grasp as Frederick watched him.

"Albus, you said that you had some exciting news. Have there been new developments?" Frederick finally asked.

Albus shook in his chair. Frederick had been right; he had been nodding off.

"Yes, very exciting, but not even Headmaster Dippet knows the news. I have only told a select few, people I trust the most, not that I don't trust the Headmaster, but I did promise to tell you first if there were any developments and here I am with the biggest development of all," Albus answered.

Frederick leaned forward, greatly intrigued by this answer. His mind wondered how it was that Albus had figured out how to detach the blueprints without setting off the Krum family spell or killing Krum. He waited, his anticipation quickly covering his earlier irritation.

"You figured out how to detach the spell from Krum? How? After all the work we did together on it, how did you manage it?" Frederick asked; his curiosity was piqued.

Albus looked at Frederick, for a moment, confused, but then a realization slid across his face.

"Oh, I never did figure out a way to detach the plans from Sergei. Whatever Vladimir Krum did, it was thorough. I don't even think there is a way to detach the plans from Sergei. Unfortunately for Sergei, those blueprints will be with him until the day he dies. I do wonder if he will ever be able to die a natural death because either way he can't die near his family, natural or not, or else the plans will be set off and his family will be killed with him."

"So if you didn't figure out how to detach the plans, what is the great news that you bring?" Frederick asked, now really curious as to what Albus was talking about.

A grin slowly edged onto Albus Dumbledore's face, and a familiar twinkle returned to his eyes. This was the Albus that Frederick was used to seeing.

"I said it was impossible to detach the plans, but I have found another way. If Sergei were ever to be captured, and let's hope that never happens, and the enemy knows he carries the plans inside him; if they tortured him to show them the blueprints, all that would come out would be complete gibberish. I have created a complex spell that scrambles and disguises the blueprints with made up words and a few Muggle children's drawings of shooting stars and Teddy bears. Not even Sergei could decipher through the gibberish even if he wanted to."

Frederick felt his jaw drop open. In the entire time he had been working on detaching the plans, he had never considered the possibility of disguising them. He had to admit that his cousin was a genius.

"Is there a way to decipher the gibberish?" Frederick asked.

Albus studied his cousin for a moment, and Frederick knew he was being evaluated as to if he was the traitor. Frederick brushed the moment aside as Albus spoke again. This was more important that hurt feelings.

"At the moment there is a way, but I am still working out the details. I will get back to you when those kinks have been worked out, but the real problem is that we do have a traitor amongst us and I feel Sergei is no longer safe at Hogwarts. The only thing Sergei can do is either run to where Grindelwald's agents can't reach him or Grindelwald must be killed or imprisoned. I have talked to Johnny Wolfbane and he has offered to take Sergei back to America with him."

"There is one other option that you must consider, even if it is distasteful. If Sergei were to be killed, the plans would be destroyed and Grindelwald will never get them. It will be done for the greater good," Frederick replied.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had not expected the reaction that he got from Albus after he said those words. Dumbledore leapt up from his chair as if he had been stung by a scorpion, his eyes ablaze and his face pale. His body was rigid in rage. Frederick felt his heart jolt, pattering wildly in his chest. He pulled away from his cousin, suddenly very afraid.

"That is NOT an option we will ever consider. Sergei has every right to live to a ripe old age. He has the right to see his children grow and his grandchildren born. Grindelwald will not destroy another family!"

Frederick stood slowly, trying to calm his cousin down. Albus watched him like a hawk.

"Albus, I never said that it was an option that we should really consider, but what would Sergei want us to do? If Grindelwald were to ever capture Krum and figure out how to decipher the plans, then we must consider it as a possibility. As you say, there is hope that that will never happen, especially if Sergei is going to be moved." Frederick's calm words were slowly soothing Albus, and soon Dumbledore was back to his weary and gentle state.

"I'm sorry Frederick for reacting as I did. I haven't had a lot of sleep lately, not with a traitor amongst us. I can feel him, Frederick. This person is close, closer than I like. This person seems to be one step ahead of us every time."

Frederick's face became stony and his eyes worried.

"Albus, I have been meaning to tell you that I have been noticing some strange behavior from Professor Vikious. Have you noticed it lately?"

"No. What has he been doing that is strange?" Albus asked, his eyes sharp like glass.

"Well lately, I have seen Professor Vikious up on the Astronomy Tower roof a lot. He's doing something up there, an assortment spells as far as I can tell. I have tried to go up there and figure out what it is he is doing, but he keeps putting a blocking spell over the door to the roof. You may need to look into it, since he won't let me get close. I'm not sure why he has such a dislike for me, but I just thought you should know."

Albus nodded sternly.

"I will look into it. Thank you Frederick," Albus stated.

Dumbledore shook Frederick's hand, then strode over to the door and let himself out. Frederick watched him go before he sat down at his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. He began to write. There was a lot he still had to do, and so little time to do it in.