Chapter 2 - A Discussion With a Portrait
“What?” The portrait of Dumbledore was jolted awake.
“I need your advice on the Deathly Hallows.” Lucas was getting impatient.
“How do you even know about them?” The portrait looked at Lucas. Hearing those words, Lucas was immediately dumped into a recollection of what he knew about the Deathly Hallows.
His father had been a friend of Xenophilius Lovegood, who was the one who told him all about the Hallows.
It happened during Lucas’ eighth birthday. It was late and everyone had gone, except for ‘Uncle Xeno’, as Lucas was calling him then. His mother and father were sleeping on the sofas in the living room. Xenophilius had led him to the kitchen, saying that he was about to tell Lucas a great story.
And then, it all spilled out of Xenophilius: The origins of the Hallows as told by Beedle the Bard, the danger of the Elder Wand and Resurrection Stone, and most importantly, that the possessor of the three Hallows would be the Master of Death.
From then on, Lucas had been fascinated by the Hallows, but the Battle of Hogwarts had presented some very confusing facts about the Hallows. That was why he had drawn attention to himself: He had to gain access to the Headmistress’ office, and had to be alone to talk to the only living version of Harry Potter’s mentor: Albus Dumbledore.
“It’s a long story.” Lucas cut short his recollections. “I need to know about the Hallows. Everything just went crazy after the Battle of Hogwarts.”
“Why would I even tell you anything?” The portrait sneered at Lucas.
“I need the Hallows, Dumbledore, can’t you see? It’s been my fascination for years.” Lucas took on a desperate, pleading attitude.
“I still shouldn’t tell you anything.”
Lucas’ patience ran out. He grabbed the portrait. “What if I decided to burn you? I’ve got my wand here, you know!” He took out his wand as he said it.
“Okay, okay. Fine.”
“Tell me everything you know about the Deathly Hallows.”
“Well, it all began with three brothers at a-”
“No! Not that! Just tell me what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts and why!”
The portrait started to think hard. “I don’t know much, since I wasn’t there in the first place, but come to think of it – Wait, no. I can’t tell you that. It’s a secret.”
Lucas pulled out his wand. “Don’t hold back any information, or else!”
“Fine, fine. Master Potter told me that he had the Resurrection Stone, which I had given to him, of course. He only found the Stone when he was in the Forbidden Forest. Later, when he had won and came in here, he told me that he had dropped it in the Forest itself, because he never wanted to use it again.”
“Oh yes, there’s something else. When he came in here after the Battle of Hogwarts, he used the Elder Wand to repair his broken wand. So we can safely assume that he is now the master of the Elder Wand.” The portrait’s Albus Dumbledore was now pacing around and around in his painting. It made Lucas quite dizzy just looking at him.
“The Invisibility Cloak was with Harry Potter ever since he arrived here at Hogwarts, nothing at the Battle of Hogwarts touched on it. Thus we can say it is still with him.” The portrait continued on smoothly. “There. Is that all you wanted to know?”
Lucas thought hard. There wasn’t going to be another chance to talk with Dumbledore. Suddenly, something struck in his head. “You said that Harry Potter had possessed each one of the Hallows. Does this mean that Harry Potter is the Master of Death?”
Dumbledore thought hard before answering. “Yes, it is possible, but he could only have been it for a short while, when he was in the Forbidden Forest. He already had the Invisibility Cloak, he may have had possession of the Elder Wand, but the last puzzle piece was the Resurrection Stone. However, he dropped that in the Forest, so he couldn’t have been the Master of Death for long.”
"Okay, then. Sorry if I have to do this, but...Silencio!" Lucas cast his spell and Dumbledore shut up like a clam.
Lucas listened and digested this information, but none too soon. The door of the office suddenly opened and Professor McGonagall stepped in. Lucas stood calmly in front of the portrait of Dumbledore, as if he was admiring it, instead of threatening to burn it.
“Ah,” The Professor said. “You’re still here. Thank you for your patience, Lucas. Please sit down.” She gestured to his chair, and then sat down herself. Lucas then strolled over to his seat and sat down, keeping himself calm even though he was buzzing with excitement over his newly-found information.
“Now, Lucas, I’m going to have to ask you why you tried to torture to Gryffindor students.” Her face resumed that stern and strict look again.
Lucas’ face assumed a guilty expression as he answered, “I’m – I’m sorry Professor. I mean, they were bullying me, and I didn’t hurt them. I just – just wanted to scare them for a while.”
“All right, then, Lucas, but you must realize the seriousness of what you have done.” For a moment Lucas thought she would let him off the hook with just a few detentions, but then he realized what he was going to have to do as she continued to speak. “Now, as you have caused Gryffindor House a great deal of terror, you shall apologize to them tonight at dinner. Also, you will do two weeks of detention with Professor Binns.”
Lucas’ eyes widened. Never had he imagined the punishment would be so severe. He had always thought all he would have to do were two or three detentions. Now he had to apologize to Gryffindor House publicly (which no doubt would cause him a lot of embarrassment), but he had to survive fourteen detentions with the most boring teacher, Professor Binns.
Lucas wrenched himself from his reverie to listen to what McGonagall was saying. “You will report every day at eight o’clock at Classroom 4F to help Professor Binns sort his notes. All right? Well, you may go now.”
Lucas left his seat and went to the door. Just as his hand touched the handle, he heard a question from behind him. “Do you know anything about the stink bombs, then, Lucas?”
Lucas turned and faced Professor McGonagall. A thousand possible scenarios swirled around in his head, all depending on his next words. He then made up his mind. “No, Professor. I don’t know anything about that.”
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Lucas knew that time slowed to a snail’s pace when you were anticipating something; when you were dreading something time flew past you. Even though he already knew it, the quickness by which the hours ticked by surprised him.
Before he knew it, it was dinner time. Lucas forced himself to stand up from his bed and then made a puppet-like dance around his dormitory, sometimes nearing the door, sometimes avoiding it. Eventually, though, his Just get on with it mentality got to him, and he exited his common room.
He shuffled along the corridors like a prisoner being led to his death. Then, he was standing in the Great Hall. He seemed to be the last one to arrive there. Lucas felt the eyes of the Gryffindors burning a hole in his chest, and then told himself eyes couldn’t send laser beams. He hurried over to his table, where he found a spot and sat down.
After dessert it was time to make his dreaded speech. Lucas stared at Professor McGonagall, not listening to her speak. He felt horrible: Sweat was dripping down his neck, he couldn’t move, and his body was in shock, not responding to anything. Only when he saw McGonagall gesture towards him then he knew to get up, stand and walk.
His mind hurt. After what seemed like eternity, his tired legs found the front of the Hall. Only then did he realize that the Hall was silent. Every eye was on him.
“Quickly,” McGonagall’s terse whisper came to him.
Lucas knew what he had to do. “Sonorus,” He cast the spell towards his throat. He took one deep breath, and then spoke.
“Well, hello, everybody. My name is Lucas Blake.” As if I need an introduction, Lucas thought, I’m sure McGonagall told everyone who I am. “I’m sure the Headmistress has told you what I have done, so -” Here his voice started to cut out. He tried making a few sounds, but no noise escaped from his mouth. Angry whispers began to circle around the Hall.
Finally Lucas found the courage to continue. “All right,” His voice rang out. “I’m – I’m sorry for what I did to you, Gryffindors.” Lucas spat out the last few words and hurried away from McGonagall, desperate to get away. Suddenly, his foot caught on the edge of his robes and he tumbled onto the floor.
“Pah!” Someone called out. “He can’t even walk! What a loser!” The Hall burst with laughter, and there were people jeering at him, teasing him, kicking him while he was still on the floor.
Lucas opened his eyes a crack. There was a crowd now, around him, and the teachers were trying their best to disperse them, but to no avail.
Another foot connected with his stomach, and he bent over (If that was possible on the floor). Suddenly, his hand found his pocket, and therefore his wand. Quickly, he uttered the spell. “Protego!”
The shield popped up around him, and he finally got some peace.