86 86: How To Brew Truth

As the Golden Snitch got closer and closer to Draco's hand, he could only think about Alaric's words he'd heard hours prior.

Since he was a kid, Draco had always loved Quidditch. He first discovered it when his mother, Narcissa, was tunning a Wireless (This weird magical contraption powered by magic that was similar to a Muggle's radio) to hear that week's Witch Weekly, when — probably without meaning to — she tunned in on a commentary about a Holyhead Harpies match. 

It was only for about ten seconds, but to Draco, one of the most exciting ten seconds of his childhood. Alas, that wasn't something to be proud of, but it was how he grew up. Formal dinners and events, etiquette and speech classes, special gatherings of the elite in Wizarding Britain and Europe... they weren't something a child usually looked forward to.

Sad, now that he thought about it. Not to mention the number of times a lighting-shaped scar boy was mentioned in these events, even if with some... sneering and jesting in the mix, that was probably why Draco was looking forward to meeting Harry Potter, and why his disappointment was more disheartening than others when he outright rejected him and defended a Weasley. 

But his father had always said to him that a Weasley was no better than filth! That you could spot one from a mile away! If so, why didn't it work, and why, instead of a friend, Draco had an enemy in Harry Potter?

Then there was Alaric Grindelwald. This one, his father really wanted him to be friends with. But the same way as with Potter, Draco was outright rejected. Why? What had he done wrong this time?

So perhaps, right before the game against Ravenclaw, when Alaric lent him his broom and told Draco he trusted him to win the game, he'd felt... happy, like he hadn't felt in a long time. 

And when his hand closed around the golden ball, and the stadium erupted into cheers, Draco wished this moment never ended. 

__________

"Is this even legal, professor?"

"Quite too late to ask that now, Grindelwald. But yes. I'm allowed by the ministry to have in my possession a certain amount of the brew in case of... emergencies,"

Alaric sat hunched over a bubbling cauldron, an acrid scent of potions tickling at his nose. He eyed the swirling brew as his hands stirred meticulously, ten times clockwise before having to stir one counter-clockwise. 

It was already night, evident by the lack of light coming from the singular window behind Snape's desk. Luckily, the candles and small oil lamps cast enough light for what he was doing. 

Snape, his dark robes still for once, loomed over the cauldron, scrutinising Alaric as he added three drops of leech juice. "Careful, Grindelwald," Snape's voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. "One more clockwise stir you'll ruin a decent brew of Veritasserum,"

Alaric nodded with a snort, focusing as he continued the delicate stirring. The liquid glimmered silver under the candlelight, still far off from the supposed clear and odourless potion it was meant to be. He'd been doing this for the past twenty-seven days, or nearly a lunar phase, and seeing as the usual amount of time it took to make this specific concoction was a full phase (28 days), this was the last time he'd have to worry about it. 

Turning around, the professor took a sit at his desk and began to grade some essays for his next class, before subtly looking up. "How has your month been, Grindelwald?" His tone was weirdly casual, so much so that Alaric almost messed up the potion. 

"Quiet, sir. Just studying and Quidditch practices," Alaric replied, keeping his answers vague. 

The potions professor's gaze, however, didn't waver. "No... peculiar activities? No visits to forbidden places? Your habit of outright ignoring the curfew and... — other rules — is quite well known among the staff, Grindelwald,"

Unbothered by the intensity of Snape's gaze, Alaric remained calm and collected, carefully sniffing the brew and noticing the acrid smell was gone — a good sign. His nonchalance didn't come from the fact that he was innocent, but that he knew the professors concluded that he was behind Flint's attack. However, because Myrtle refused to speak, they had no evidence and so couldn't do anything but extend his detention under the pretence that he still needed to reflect. 

Of course, all of this was under the assumption Alaric had only used a simple Biting Curse — something a first-year student could easily learn with some practice — and no other magic. His memory charm on Flint held strong, so the reality where he had snapped and used an Unforgivable on a fellow student remained under wraps. And Alaric would make sure it continued that way.

"None, Professor. Just the usual routine, with occasional visits to the workshop provided by the school," Alaric replied casually, watching as, slowly, the liquid lost some of its thickness and silver colour. 

"I've heard you've been sharing it with two Gryffindor students. The Weasley twins. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir." 

The candlelights flickered, and Snape's expression remained inscrutable, but Alaric could almost feel the suspicion that lingered in the air. He had to be careful not to reveal anything, especially his new map. That he doubted was legal. 

"A problematic duo. Their constant disregard for the school rules often places the well-being of the students in danger more often than they think. And yet, they never seem to face the corresponding consequences," Snape flicked his finger, and one of the papers moved to another stack. 

"An astute observation..." Alaric replied automatically, focused on the cauldron.

"And why do you think that is?"

"That is what... sir?" Finally looking up, he found the professor's dark orbs staring into his eyes.

"What could continue to deescalate the gravity of every situation the pair find themselves in?" Snape asked again, eyes digging into Alaric's.

Alaric carefully considered his words for a few seconds, trying to deduce what Snape wanted to hear before he spoke.

"While I consider most of their practical jokes harmless, I believe the situation stems from a soft spot Professor McGonagall harbours for the two," He said, watching as the bubbling of the potion subsided.

"Quite," Snape leaned back on his chair and interlaced his hand. "While the Vice-Headmistress is truly competent, she possesses a big heart. Not just her, but most of the staff in this castle. Even the headmaster himself. Do you what know the problem with having a big heart is, Grindelwald?"

"You forgive too easily, even when the other party doesn't deserve your kindness," Alaric gave him a textbook answer, a small hint of satisfaction sprouting within him when the bubbling disappeared, revealing an almost clear and odourless brew.

"Correct. Yet, there is a better answer," The professor said with a nod of his head.

"What is it, sir?"

"It's the fact that they choose to see the good in people, even when the bad needs attention, leaving it to fester and swallow everyone up,"

Alaric didn't know why Snape was so talkative, even if the conversation stayed true to his personality. 

"They often think the good outweighs the bad," The professor continued in a monotone voice. "Even if, for example, said person is dabbling in dark magic,"

The boy had to pause in the middle of the last few stirs, finally understanding where Snape was going with this talk.

"I wouldn't know, sir," He said, his voice lower and steady. 

Alaric's heart quickened, he had to admit. He didn't have the mask of Percival Graves or any other form of illusion magic in case he slipped something under the pressure coming from Snape. Their conversation had struck a nerve, but he knew he needed to keep his composure to keep what happened hidden. 

Snape left his seat and walked over to grab some vials from a shelf. "You seem awfully calm all of a sudden," He remarked. "You know, Occlumency has existed for at least a millennia now, but only a few centuries back did wizards come up with the idea to use it to mask their emotions when it was once only used to close their minds from outside influences," There was some sort of half-grin half-frown in his face. "But, because of its utility, both uses have merged into one big Occlumency spell with time, and most of the wizards that know the mind art of today can't use one without the other. For that exact reason, it has become increasingly easy to know when someone is using said magic simply by looking at their face,"

Alaric fought hard to not let out a snort, and instead smiled, his mind subtly racing for a response. "Sorry for the disappointment, sir, but I've no use for Occlumency most of the time. I've just learned to keep my cool in certain situations," he replied calmly despite the turmoil within.

"An admirable trait, no doubt," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I wonder if it was born out of necessity rather than choice."

Alaric felt both a bead of annoyance in his brain and a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, but he refused to let Snape see his discomfort. "Perhaps a bit of both, sir," he replied again.

Snape's gaze narrowed, and Alaric could the true weight of his suspicion bearing down on him. "You're a clever one, Grindelwald. Perhaps the smartest student I've taught," Snape said, his voice low but seemingly nonchalant. "But remember, even the most cunning of schemes unravel with the slightest misstep."

Alaric's heart pounded in his chest as he continued to stir the potion. Each movement had been ingrained into him for the past three weeks. This was a dangerous game he was playing, but he couldn't afford to show weakness now.

As Snape turned away to retrieve another ingredient, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. With the professor's watchful eye on him, Alaric knew he had to be more careful than ever. Hell, with this much Veritasserum, tomorrow he'd start checking everything he'd drink.

But for now, he had to focus on the task at hand. Despite the tension in the air, if he could sneak a few drops into a small vial he had with him, Alaric could finally bloody know what was that Granger was given. One drop in the morning juice and she'd spill everything for a handful of minutes without even realizing. 

But what about what happens after? He didn't care. Granger was too much of a geek to have any dark secrets that could ruin her life. And a few minutes of embarrassment wouldn't kill her.

With each of his movements, Alaric felt a sense of determination wash over him. He refused to let Snape's charades and suspicions derail his plans. He was going to see it through until the end.

Then, finally, the culmination of 28 long days, the odour of the potion completely disappeared, and before Alaric lay a clear liquid, eerily similar to water. 

Snape loomed over the cauldron for a moment, scrutinizing the brew and inhaling the fumes still coming out because of the dying heat of the extinguished flame below it. "A surprisingly good job. You managed to brew an adequate batch of Veritasserum,"

"Thank you, professor," Alaric nodded stoically. 

Just then, two knocks came from the entrance to the classroom. The door creaked open, and Professor Lupin peeked his head, his weary eyes scanning the room before landing on Snape. 

"Ah, Severus—"

"Lupin," Snape stopped filling the vials and approached the door. "What do I owe this displeasure?"

"It's about my - uh..." Lupin eyed Alaric, before choosing his words. "My little problem. Could we talk?"

"Understatement of the century, but yes, give me a moment," 

That little exchange created a window of time big enough for Alaric to sneak a few drops into a tiny vial with an ampoule that he quickly hid in his robes. 

"You can go now, Grindelwald," Snape said, eyeing the cauldron, betraying nothing.

"Good night then, sir," Alaric said. "To you as well, Professor Lupin,"

"Sleep well, Alaric," Lupin smiled kindly before stepping to the side, allowing Alaric to leave the classroom.

It hadn't been even a second since he exited when he felt a flick of a wand behind him and watched as the door swung close, the sound of the room completely muffled. 

Guess Snape truly knew him better than he let on, Alaric thought.

He wondered what was it that Professor Lupin needed help with. From what he observed, the two weren't on good enough terms for a late visit like this. And a little problem?

As he walked the corridors of Hogwarts, there was a certain sense of foreboding hanging over him. He knew that his sort of disguised interrogation with Snape was but the beginning.

Still, as he disappeared into the shadows of the castle, Alaric knew what he had to do.

**********

Hey! I'm back from Erasmus lol. (Finally, to be fair. Loved Rome, but nothing's like home sweet home.)

Twenty-ish days without posting, my bad. But I kinda needed to study for the exams after doing nothing but getting wasted during most of the semester. 

It certainly feels good finally having proper support for the computer, but I'll miss the friends I made there. Not to mention the tiramisù. 

Anyway, a few months back I got to re-reading my favourite book series from when I was a kid besides HP: Percy Jackson. And honestly, I can't keep the ideas in my head forever so I've decided to begin a PJ side-fic. 

Some of you will probably be worried I'll stop with this one but don't worry, like I said, side-project.

For those who like PJ stories, don't expect the "chasing godhood" or "I hate all the gods" troupes, can't stand those. It will be pretty angsty tho.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't forget to leave some feedback in the comments to help me improve!