Lost by Gmariam
Chapter Three - Bittersweet
“What the hell are you doing here?” snapped Albus, the Elder Wand pointing directly at his older brother. James was stunned at his brother’s appearance: he looked gaunt, unkept, and had a desperate look in his eyes.
“I’m here to help you,” answered James. He left the cover of the tree and began walking toward Albus; he did not draw his wand.
“Great”give me the Stone,” said Albus. James shook his head; that was exactly what he had expected his younger brother to say. He still held the Resurrection Stone in his hand, though he did not plan to hand it over; why then had he even revealed he had it?
“Not that way,” James replied, shaking off his doubt. “Come home with me. Mum and Dad are worried. We can help you.”
“Dad sent you, didn’t he?” asked Albus with a disgusted look on his face. “Go save your brother, James. Little lost Al. Forget it”I didn’t need Dad’s help and I don’t need yours either!”
“He didn’t send me,” James replied earnestly, knowing Albus would not believe him anyway. “Frankly, he hasn’t said a word about what happened between you two. I think he’s too scared.”
That seemed to get through: family was important to Albus, in spite of all that may have happened over the past year. “Scared of what?” Albus frowned. “Of me? Or the wand?”
“Of losing you,” said James honestly. “We’re afraid of losing you.”
“We all lose the people we love eventually,” Albus shrugged, though James knew the casual statement caused his brother great pain. “I have to do this. I have to.”
“You can’t really bring him back, Al”you know the story!” James came closer, hoping his brother could somehow sense his worry and concern. “Please, come home with me.”
“I know I can’t bring him back,” Albus said, and his eyes were haunted. “I just want to see him one more time.”
James knew his brother’s sorrow was intense. Though at first it had been difficult for him to accept Marcum as part of their family, it did not take long for him to see just how much Albus cared about his partner. Marcum had balanced Albus’s temper and brazen stubbornness with his own calm and rational thinking, along with a wickedly clever wit. Marcum had quickly found a place in the Potter clan, even holding his own at the legendary Weasley gatherings. That he had died so soon had left the entire family saddened, and not just for Albus’s deep grief.
James was tempted to give him the Stone: Albus was drawn and pale, his face ground down by loss and his obsession with the Resurrection Stone these past months. If Albus used the Stone, perhaps that one last chance to see Marcum would help him move on. Yet that was not why James was there; he had not spent so much time looking for the Stone only to simply give the powerful talisman to his brother. He had come to help Albus, to save him from himself; handing him the Stone would only enable his continued grief and desperate desire to see Marcum again.
And yet why had he searched so hard, spent so many sleepless nights roaming the Forbidden Forest, hoping to find the Stone before Albus? He had only managed to find it by paying Hagrid a visit; after many drinks he had asked the giant to take him to the clearing where the giant spider had lived, and where his father had faced Voldemort while Hagrid stood captive. And still it had taken much searching to find the ring, dropped so long ago; perhaps it had finally wanted to be found.
Perhaps that was why had he brought it to the graveyard.
James was roused from his thoughts by a slight tug on his hand: Albus was trying to Summon the Stone. Before he could react”or perhaps he did not really wish to stop him, deep down”the Stone flew from his hands toward Albus, who caught it as deftly as catching the Quaffle in a Quidditch game. He stared at it, his eyes unreadable.
“Thanks, brother,” he said, and with a swift flick of his wand, he sent James flying backward away from the grave, to land hard upon the ground twenty feet away.
James cursed as he stood and wiped the leaves from his pants. Albus had the Stone now, and the consequences must play out. Again he wondered whether that was why he had really come to the graveyard.
He stood back and watched as Albus took a deep breath and turned the Stone three times in his hands. Slowly a white mist began to coalesce into the familiar form of Marcum Sloane. James saw his brother’s shoulders straighten and could almost feel Albus’s grief dissipate for a few precious minutes. Though he did not want to intrude on such a private moment, he couldn’t help but move closer.
Marcum looked the same as the day he had died, more solid than a ghost but less than a living person. He also appeared somewhat confused; he glanced around the graveyard, his eyes drawn to the headstone with his name on it, until they finally settled on Albus, and he shook his head almost ruefully.
“Hi, Al,” he said. “Funny place for a reunion.”
James saw Albus wipe away a tear from his face, but also heard a familiar teasing tone in his brother’s voice that had been missing for months. “It’s not bad “ your own tree, some privacy, a nice view.” They grinned at each other, just like old times.
What did you say to someone who had died? What did you say to someone you had lost so suddenly and so tragically, someone you had loved so much? James felt awkward as the silence stretched between the two men, a silence in which they nevertheless spoke volumes to each other. He felt his own heart breaking again, as it had over a year ago when Albus had first lost Marcum; he couldn’t imagine losing Sarah, his fiancée, and he dreaded the moment when Marcum would return to his place beyond the veil.
As Albus and Marcum continued their silent communion, James turned away. He breathed deeply in the fresh morning air and gave thanks that come spring he would enjoy life as a married man. He was marrying a girl who was everything he had ever hoped for in a partner: beautiful, talented, funny, and smart”so smart James sometimes wondered what an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries might see in a minor Quidditch Keeper like him. Thinking of his upcoming wedding was bittersweet, however, because it saddened him to think that Albus had lost the one person he hoped to spend the rest of his life with.
With a sigh, James gazed back at his brother and saw that he had moved closer to Marcum, and that they were now speaking; Albus had hung his head, and James thought that perhaps he was crying. He saw Marcum reach out to Albus, touch his face; Albus looked up and Marcum shook his head. Albus gestured almost wildy with his hands, and this time Marcum placed his own ghostly arms on Albus’s shoulders as if to calm him. Were they arguing?
James often wondered if Albus felt guilty about the night Marcum had died. Their cousin Rose seemed to think that he felt a great deal of remorse, not only for surviving, but for causing the confrontation that had taken his partner’s life”and for failing to save Marcum, as hard as he had tried. James hoped that the ghost the ring had called back was laying his brother’s guilt to rest at last, so that Albus might accept what had happened as the tragedy it was and begin to heal his lost soul.
Marcum placed his hand on Albus’s heart and leaned close. Albus shook his head, but Marcum smiled, kissed his forehead, and began to fade away, his voice a whisper on the wind. Albus fell to his knees, hands reaching blindly for his lost partner. He bowed his head and James saw his shoulders shake in silent sobs.
He felt his brother’s pain as acutely as if it were his own; how could he have given him the Stone? What good had it done to see his loved one again, only to lose him “ again? He hurried over to Albus and took him in his arms. Albus stiffened at first, but then collapsed onto his brother, his grief finally pouring out in rivers of sorrow upon the grass.
And then he began to quiet. He took several deep breaths and worked his way out of James’s embrace. James helped him stand, and immediately noticed a frightening glint in his brother’s eyes.
“Thank you,” said Albus, wiping his face clean with his sleeve. “I’m okay now.” James was silent as Albus handed him the Stone. “You might need this someday,’ he said softly.
“I hope not,” murmured James, pocketing the Stone and gazing into his brother’s unreadable face.
“I hope not too,” Albus replied. “And I hope you understand what I have to do now.”
James was starting to worry about the slightly mad look in his brother’s eyes. He casually placed his hand on his wand, anticipating an attack much like the one Albus had had with their father.
Albus simply shook his head, his eyes still glowing strangely. “Could I have a moment?” he asked.
James nodded and backed away, still keeping a wary eye on his younger brother. Albus kneeled in the grass again. He seemed to be doing something with his wand; James assumed he was conjuring a flower or something similar until he heard a familiar voice on the wind:
“James, stop him!”
Without thinking, James whipped out his wand and cried, “Expelliarmus!” The Elder Wand flew into his hand but Albus did not turn. James cast a second spell that sent Albus flying away from the grave; in his place was not the bouquet of flowers James had expected, but a small potions vial lying empty in the grass.
“You didn’t,” James breathed, his heart frozen in fear.
“He did,” whispered the wind, as Albus tried to rise. He was already weak and fell to his knees. James began to run toward him.
“Stay away from me,” Albus snarled, and he tried to throw a punch at James as he approached. James easily blocked it as Albus collapsed, his face clammy and pale.
“Help him,” murmured the breeze one last time. “Show him what to live for.”
James nodded as he slung his brother over his shoulders. He had to get him to St. Mungo’s first. And then he would somehow show Albus the endless possibilities of his life “ if he survived and could find his way.
* * *
Chapter Endnotes: And so the story continues “ a short chapter, yes, but the next one looks to be quite a bit longer. It may take a while as I explore the Realm of Possibilities to see what life has in store for Albus. Thank you so much to laceymoibella for looking at this twice and offering her wonderful feedback and welcome assurances both times! And thank you for reading this story “ I do appreciate feedback, and will answer any questions you might have as I have made some very deliberate choices thus far. And if you’d like to read more about Albus and Marcum, please read “Goodnight, Albus.” It is a series of ten drabbles following Albus through Hogwarts.