St. Mungo's Hospital – Sunday, 4 PM
Elliot burst into the hospital, heading straight for the front desk. A beautiful Healer stood there, filling out forms. He quickly asked for the room number.
"Special Care Ward, Room 213."
He rushed down the corridors and pushed open the door.
The room was dim, filled with the scent of magical medicines. But he could immediately recognize Minerva McGonagall's face.
He approached her and asked, "What happened?"
Minerva's usual stern and concerned expression deepened.
"We found him near the Shrieking Shack. He was messing with a chest... and now he's been cursed. A dark curse. It's spreading."
Elliot grimaced. "Didn't I tell you lot not to touch it?" He glanced at the bed—Bill Weasley lay there, looking thinner and weaker than ever. The curse was crawling up his arm and neck.
Turning back to Minerva, Elliot asked, "Do you think it was him?"
She shook her head. "No. I trust him. If it were him, he wouldn't be lying here like this."
"Any sign of Styros?"
"None. But apparently, the chest was used to contain it. It had traces of dark magic."
Elliot nodded, mind racing.
"Alright. I'll investigate—but don't tell anyone except his wife. And make up a convincing reason for the students."
Minerva nodded again.
"I'll request backup from the Ministry," Elliot added. "I can't do this alone."
As he turned to leave, McGonagall called after him, "Start with the Hog's Head. Lots of shady folks come and go there."
Elliot gave a confirming nod and left in haste.
***
A few hours later, Elliot stood near the Hog's Head Inn, keeping watch.
He had been quietly observing the place, noting every suspicious movement in his little notebook.
Suddenly, a sound came from behind him. He instinctively reached for the wand hidden inside his coat.
A voice, low and calm, spoke behind him:
"Mr. Calderon Boot?"
Elliot turned to face a man holding out a hand.
He was middle-aged, with dark, slightly graying hair and a strange gleam in his eyes.
"I'm from the Department of Mysteries," the man said. "Michael Corner."
Elliot shook his hand firmly, offering a half-hearted smile. "Pleasure. I needed someone who knows this place well."
Michael smirked. "Don't worry. I spent the best years of my life between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade."
It took only a few minutes for Elliot to brief Michael on the situation. Then the two of them made their way toward the inn.
Elliot pushed open the door with a worn-out sign of a bleeding boar hanging above it.
The place was dark, dusty, and mostly empty.
Only two hooded figures sat in a corner, faces obscured. It looked like no one had cleaned the place in years.
Elliot walked up to the bar, where a lanky young man stood behind the counter, filling mugs. His face looked tired, and his eyes dull.
"Two butterbeers, please," Elliot said quietly.
The young man gave a slight smile. His dark eyes glinted faintly in the lantern light.
Michael sat beside Elliot, scanning the room with a trained gaze.
As the boy turned to the storage room, Michael leaned toward Elliot and whispered, "This used to be Aberforth Dumbledore's place. But he's been gone for years. This kid? Some say he's related—but I doubt it. Doesn't seem sharp enough."
He fell silent as the boy returned, placing two mugs on the bar.
"That'll be one galleon."
Elliot placed the coin on the counter, then asked cautiously, "Seen anyone around here lately... a wizard with a chest?"
The boy's expression tensed for a second—but he recovered quickly. "No... what did he look like?"
Michael stepped in. "A shady-looking bloke, carrying something odd."
The bartender chuckled. "Everyone looks shady here, sir. Take that witch over there," he gestured casually toward a cloaked figure in the corner. "You think she's up to anything good?"
But neither Elliot nor Michael laughed.
Elliot pressed on, voice firm:
"So, nothing strange in the past few days?"
The boy shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
He grabbed a cloth and started wiping the counter, clearly trying to end the conversation.
At that moment, the two cloaked figures stood and left the bar. The three of them were now alone.
Perfect time for a little pressure.
Before Elliot could speak again, Michael pulled him aside.
"I remember there was a passage from here to Hogwarts," he whispered. "We used it during the war."
He pointed toward a wall behind the bar. Elliot stepped closer and ran his hand over it.
"You sure this is it?"
Michael nodded. Elliot stepped forward and showed his Ministry badge.
"We're from the Ministry. We need to search the premises."
The boy visibly panicked, fear flashing in his eyes.
"I told you, I don't know anything!"
But Michael had already broken the door open with a flick of his wand. A dim, narrow passage revealed itself beyond.
"There's a footprint," Michael said, lighting his wand. Elliot followed, then cast a binding spell—ropes shot out and tied the boy in place.
"You stay right here."
Then the two men stepped into the tunnel. It was dark, damp, and narrow, forcing them to stoop as they walked.
After a few minutes, they reached a small, wooden door.
Elliot whispered a spell. A loud thud echoed—but the door didn't budge.
"Why won't it open?"
Michael frowned. "Maybe it's warded. Whoever used it probably placed a seal."
He stepped forward and began reciting counter-spells.
***
Meanwhile, on the other side of that door, Arya and Albus froze.
They had just heard the sound.
"What was that?" Arya whispered.
"I don't know... but I think we should go. Now."
They quickly gathered their tools and plans and hurried out of the Room of Requirement, just moments before the door behind them finally opened.
***
Elliot stepped inside and looked around. The room was filled with magical invention tools and unfinished blueprints.
He smirked. "This is the kind of place my daughter would love."
Michael chuckled, glancing around. "So... they brought Styros through this tunnel."
Elliot nodded. "And probably smuggled it out through here too."
Michael tilted his head. "That bartender kid? He's definitely involved."
"Yeah," Elliot muttered. "You got any Veritaserum?"
"I do. But I doubt we'll need it—he'll crack under pressure."
Elliot's expression darkened. "Alright. Once we're done here, I'm heading to the Shrieking Shack."
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