A Meeting Between "Father and Son"

After returning from Knockturn Alley, Will settled back into his repetitive but satisfying routine of study. Apart from eating and sleeping, he buried himself in books and ground out experience. He also exchanged letters with Sylvia and the others.

Before Christmas, Will devoted most of his time to studying Dark Magic. Partly because he had gained very little Dark Magic experience at Hogwarts, and partly because...

"Imperio is one of the well-known Unforgivable Curses. The Ministry of Magic expressly forbids its use on humans. Offenders face life imprisonment in Azkaban, though hardly anyone pays attention to that law during a war."

"The Imperius Curse completely controls the target's mind, forcing them to obey the caster's commands. Note, however, that repeated casting reduces its effectiveness."

"The incantation for the Imperius Curse is 'Imperio.' Pay attention to the wand movement and..."

[You gained new Dark Magic knowledge. Dark Magic experience +1]

[You gained new Charms knowledge. Charms experience +1]

[You gained new Dark Magic knowledge. Dark Magic experience +1]

[You gained new Charms knowledge. Charms experience +1]

That was right. Will was studying the Imperius Curse. Some spells might never need to be used, but that was no reason not to learn them. The Unforgivable Curses were a case in point.

He had held off for two reasons. First, his Occlumency had not been strong enough, and he had worried about being found out once he entered Hogwarts. He had not met Dumbledore then and had no idea whether the man was truly the greatest White Wizard or an evil old bee, white on the outside and black within. Second, he had no need for the curse in the early stages of his plan and had expected to leave it alone for years. He had not anticipated his so-called father coming to find him.

Plans rarely survived a change in circumstances.

Snow fell over London on December 24, 1991. At home, Will warmed himself by the fireplace and read a book on Transfiguration for pleasure.

Two in the afternoon.

Fine snowflakes drifted through the air, blanketing London in white. A dark, luxurious stretch limousine wound through the streets and stopped outside a middle-class home.

An impeccably dressed older man stepped out of the front passenger seat. His charcoal-gray suit had been pressed free of the slightest crease; a silver-gray bow tie sat at the collar of his white shirt, and his gloves were brand-new ivory lambskin. This was Thomas Gray, the Howard family's butler.

The house looked distinctly shabby, but Thomas still put on a flawless smile. The Earl of Arundel clearly attached great importance to this illegitimate son. Why else would he send his butler to collect him in person?

Thomas had just crossed the lawn and had yet to ring the bell when a boy opened the door. The boy had delicate features, pale skin, and a cold expression. His unusual silver-gray eyes looked colder still amid the falling snow.

Thomas went to meet him at once, walking at an unhurried pace. He stopped exactly two steps from Mr. Behrens and bowed slightly. "Good afternoon, Master Will. The Earl is waiting for you. I am his butler; you may call me Thomas."

"Thank you," Will said softly. He handed Thomas his suitcase, every movement carrying a charm of its own.

Before setting out, Thomas had been told by the Earl that Will's mother had passed away. He had expected the boy to be somewhat rough around the edges. Instead, Will was courteous and seemed remarkably well brought up, which took Thomas by surprise.

Will gave Thomas his suitcase and climbed into the limousine.

His first thought was, Damn capitalism.

He could feel the fine grain of the dark brown leather lining the inside of the door. Pale gold stitching ran along its edge, the stitches so close together that the gaps were almost invisible.

Walnut panels divided the interior into distinct front and rear sections, with the rear reserved for Will. The panels ran from the doors to the center console. Their straight grain was natural, left without a glossy polish so the wood retained its warm feel. Brass fittings at the joins were engraved with simple scrolling vines.

The leather sofa was designed just right, soft and comfortable to recline on. Two brass knobs were set into the walnut armrest to the left of the seat: one adjusted the backrest's angle, while the other turned on the heat. Once switched on, the leather gradually gave off a gentle warmth, without any sudden burning heat.

Beside him, several tapes sat next to a vintage cassette player. Their labels read Mozart's "Eine kleine Nachtmusik" and a collection of English folk songs.

Cream-colored velvet lined the ceiling, as soft to the touch as a cloud. A row of tiny warm-yellow lights was set where the lining met the walnut trim; when lit, their gentle glow reached every corner.

The Howard family was clearly wealthy. Will wondered how many potion ingredients and magic books this one car could buy.

Will pushed the two wands farther up his sleeve. After a casual look around, he closed his eyes and rested in the back seat. The Howard family's wealth tempted him, but it had not gone to his head. He knew his position. There was no chance he would acquire their fortune by ordinary means, at least.

What Will needed to do was keep using his advantages to grow stronger. In a world where one person's power could surpass that of a whole group, strength was the foundation of everything.

Thomas put the suitcase in the trunk and joined him in the back. Seeing Will half reclined with his eyes closed, he found the boy stranger still. A child from such a modest home, whose mother had died, was not even a little amazed by a car like this?

Perhaps that was why the Earl paid him so much attention.

The limousine headed southwest.

Arundel Castle stood in West Sussex, about sixty-five miles from London. The drive usually took around two hours, but the snow stretched their journey to three and a half.

At six in the evening, the limousine finally pulled into the castle's parking area.

Will followed Thomas into the castle. They passed several servants, who saw him but paid him no attention. Before long, the two arrived at a lavish study and met the Earl of Arundel: Will's biological father, Edward Philanthus Howard.

The man wore a finely tailored dark brown suit and was working beneath bright lights. His skin was somewhat dark. Will had already activated the Wizard's Eye, but he saw not a trace of magical energy in the Earl. The man was a Muggle through and through.

Edward set down his pen when Will entered and waved Thomas out of the study.

He looked Will up and down for a long while, then smiled, apparently pleased with what he saw. But his words displeased Will. "Will, you won't even call me Father."

"Father." Will's voice was cold and stiff. He fought down the urge to cast the Imperius Curse. Until he knew whether the Howard family had any wizards, he would not act rashly.

Across two lifetimes, this was his first "father."

Yet his hand was clenched around the old wand hidden in his sleeve.