Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 27:6

When they entered the room, they were greeted by three people. Vindictus Viridian was sitting in the headmaster's chair, his hair still disheveled and his face, half-covered in a grizzled beard, was drawn and pale. Beside him, admiring the phoenix in the window, was a young and very animated pregnant woman, who turned excitedly when they heard the door open. From her sharp facial features and demeanor, it was evident that she was another grandchild. With her was a frenzied man who looked extremely uncomfortable, his eyes continually darting to the ring of portraits overhead, where former headmasters were perched, examining them with endless interest.

"Professor Viridian!" said the Minister, as she strode to the desk. The man cleared his throat and straightened. "No, no...stay where you are. I only wanted to introduce myself. Your reputation precedes you."

"Thank you, Madam Minister," said Vindictus in a raspy voice.

"I have been Minister for Magic throughout the duration of your...er...imprisonment."

"How time does fly," said Dumbledore, as he smiled pleasantly at the pregnant young woman.

"And who might you be?" asked Bagnold.

"This is my granddaughter, Llewellyn Arbuckle. She is the proprietor of a hat shop on Diagon Alley, and a Squib," Viridian said, shaking his head absently when she glanced back at him with a reproving smile. "I apologize."

"It's perfectly fine," Llewellyn replied gently. "You've come from a different era. And this is my husband."

"We flew here!" he blurted.

"I have always dreamt of visiting Hogwarts, since I was a girl. I never imagined it would be to collect my long-lost grandfather."

"On a magic vacuum cleaner!" Mr. Arbuckle clarified.

Albus chuckled at the Muggle's innocent confusion. "Magic does exist, it is true. Perhaps, in eleven years, the newest member of your family will attend this school."

Mr. Arbuckle looked down at his wife's belly, somewhat horrified. He gulped while using his shirtsleeve to dab the beads of sweat from his forehead.

Hagrid scuttled forward. "Professor Viridian, sir. I —"

"There is no need, Mister Hagrid."

They shared a strained look. The last time they had faced one another, Vindictus was handing Hagrid the remains of his magic wand.

"I should leave," said Bagnold. "There is much to do before I pass the torch, as it were."

"Let me escort yeh down."

"Mister Hagrid, just a moment," said Vindictus, struggling to stand. He reached into the long pocket of his majestic green and gold robe. "Would you deliver this message to the twin boys who assisted me? I believe their names are Fred and George." He produced a pristine white letter, embossed with a monogram. "It is from my grandson, Lexington. Thank you."

Hagrid reached out tentatively for the letter. "What're yeh gonna do now, sir? Yeh ain' got no home, do yeh?"

"These kind relatives of mine are going to care for me until I get on my feet. In fact, would you mind accompanying them as well, Mister Hagrid? I would very much like a moment alone with the headmaster."

Hagrid nodded and held the door open as the three of them left the chamber, the last being Arbuckle, the Muggle, who stared in disbelief at the massive gamekeeper, as if he were a giant talking bear.

Dumbledore placed Dandy's oxford shoes onto the desk and stood before his old friend, still gripping the photo of Slug Club. For a duration that seemed much longer than it was, Vindictus Viridian looked upon Albus Dumbledore, his face stricken with so many conflicting emotions, but none as present as grief. Before sitting, they held one another in a prolonged embrace.

"Phoenix," said Viridian. "It is such a relief to see you again."

"Much has happened in your absence, my friend," said Dumbledore, looking deeply into his exhausted, russet-brown eyes. "I am so sorry you had to learn about your children like this."

Vindictus took the photo from Dumbledore's hands. He looked down at the young faces, studying every intricacy of their expressions. "I never knew the relationship between Tom Riddle and Aruzula Darc," he said. "Not until the very end. And you say that Mister Riddle became..."

"Yes."

"That is what happened to Madragul and Caspian?"

"They perished in the war, along with many others. They fought valiantly. You would have been proud."

Vindictus nodded solemnly. "And Riddle?"

"Destroyed. By a boy named Harry Potter, the son of two former students who had faced Riddle's forces alongside your children. Based on a prophecy, Tom was led to track and murder the young boy, unaware that the killing curse would deflect onto him. But I...would not say that he has been completely destroyed," said Dumbledore cautiously. "Not long after your disappearance, Riddle placed an Irrevocable Jinx onto your teaching position. And, as you are well aware, as long as the creator of the jinx still lives...in some form..."

"I see," croaked Viridian, imagining the ramifications. He scratched at his ragged beard. "Do we know the nature of their relationship?"

"I can only speculate. She wanted to destroy you, that much is clear. Luckily, your grandson has an intellect as acute as your own. And he never lost hope."

"Lexington, yes," said Vindictus with distant pride, his eyes lowering reflexively. "Madragul's boy."

"And this whole time I thought Gellert Grindelwald had been responsible."

"No, it was a student from...Slug Club."

Dumbledore fixed his eyes on the enchanted photograph. "If only I had taken her memories first. There is much left unknown about this mystery."

"True," said Vindictus, releasing a deep breath. "As long as that painting remains empty, she will return. Did you happen to see the name plaque?"

"Viola Darc," he replied, taking great cautions in saying her name. "I assumed there was a distant relation when Aruzula attended my class, but they certainly look nothing alike."

"No, they do not. Is it all a coincidence?"

"It cannot be."

"And Nicolas?"

"We must keep this from him," said Dumbledore, with a concerned expression. "If he discovers the link between Aruzula and this painting..."

"I see that he hasn't changed in fifty years," Viridian mentioned, as Dumbledore nodded soundly. "Now that you know the truth of my disappearance, what is your assessment?"

"This may be worse than I had first believed. I was entirely unaware of their relationship and wonder, now, if Voldemort is somehow connected to all that we have experienced this year...and all that is to come. For the first time in decades, I do not know where to begin. I fear this may be the sign we have been expecting."

"What sign is that?" asked Viridian curiously.

Dumbledore gazed up at him, his expression grim. "The sign of his return."