Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [23]

Wales, an ancient valley ruin.

A lone lantern sat atop a crumbling wall, casting the shadows of several figures digging below, their shovels cutting into the earth. Their heavy breaths betrayed exhaustion, one man finally reaching his limit.

“I’m done!” he groaned, throwing down his shovel and collapsing onto the ground. “I’m a wizard, not a farmer—you can’t force me to do this kind of labor!”

The man was none other than the dark wizard Gibbon, one of the people Jason had dragged into his operation. Jason had finally learned his name, though “Gibbon” was hardly memorable.

Nearby, Lupin gave a cold snort. “So this is what a Death Eater’s worth?”

Even as he spoke, Lupin himself had quietly set down his own shovel, just as worn out.

Jason, the leader and anchor of this odd trio, tossed aside his shovel as well. “Fine, let’s rest for a bit.”

The three sat down in the dust, catching their breath. Despite having two wizards on his team, one had been stripped of his powers by a curse, and the other had his wand confiscated, leaving them both little choice but to rely on brute strength.

As soon as they settled, Lupin edged as far from Gibbon as possible, clearly not wanting to sit close. He knew Gibbon’s history as one of Voldemort’s followers and had fought him before, harboring an intense dislike for the man.

What Lupin didn’t realize was that he and Gibbon would have an even stranger connection in the future. In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Gibbon would be among the Death Eaters infiltrating Hogwarts through the Room of Requirement’s Vanishing Cabinet. There, he and fellow Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle would end up in a skirmish against Lupin and Tonks. In that fight, a stray Killing Curse intended for Lupin would instead strike down Gibbon, making him Lupin’s unwitting decoy and saving Lupin’s life.

“Do we really have to be doing this?” Lupin asked, breaking the silence.

Jason had heard this complaint so many times it was practically background noise by now.

“Remus,” Jason sighed, scooting over to sit beside him, “are you still clinging to some misplaced loyalty to that Dumbledore?”

“No matter what, I can’t betray his trust. I want to do good, Jason,” Lupin replied, looking Jason in the eyes. “And even if you haven’t asked me to hurt anyone, your methods are extreme, and these things we’re hunting down… they’re blasphemous…”

“What we’re doing is good, Remus.”

Jason’s voice softened as he began to dismantle Lupin’s moral wall with the skills he’d honed through years of dealing with Batman.

“Look at the wizarding world as it is right now. Is this really what you wanted? Do they treat you well?”

Lupin didn’t answer, only muttering, “Dumbledore was kind to me…”

“And where has that kindness gotten you?” Jason’s voice grew louder, angrier. “If he truly cared, why are you still scraping by? You love this world, but who loves you in return?”

“Remus, I don’t know what sort of noble dreams Dumbledore sold you, but let me make this clear—no one in this world selflessly sacrifices themselves for others. Even those closest to you can—and will—betray you!”

As Jason’s voice rose, the memories of his own betrayal seemed to seethe from his very skin. His breaths came heavy and ragged, and he had to take a moment to calm himself.

“Look, Remus, we’re the same. This world doesn’t want us, but we still survive. And we’re not hurting it. In fact, we’re doing the opposite—we’re trying to set it back on track. Remember what I told you? If our plan succeeds, we’ll create a world of true equality.”

Jason then opened his hand, revealing a small vial of green liquid.

“Do you have any idea how precious this is?” he said, holding it out. “I got it from someone who’s practically a god.”

Lupin gazed at the vial, wavering in his convictions.

The future Jason promised him—a world of equality and fairness—did sound possible. At least, if the liquid in that vial was as powerful as Jason claimed.

“Stick with us, Remus,” Jason urged, clapping a hand on Lupin’s shoulder. “We’re halfway there already. We can’t stop now! Once we find the rest, we’re heading to Hogwarts.”

—

Hogwarts, Great Hall

“What are they looking for?” Professor McGonagall murmured to herself.

The Outcast Alliance’s appearances were always in remote, long-abandoned magical ruins, but their spread covered a wide area throughout the United Kingdom: England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland—they’d nearly scoured the entire British Isles.

“I might have a lead if anyone’s interested,” came Severus Snape’s flat, unhurried voice.

“Please, do tell, Severus,” Professor McGonagall responded with a slight smile.

“Recently, a leather-bound journal surfaced in Knockturn Alley. Roughly a thousand years old, by the look of it. By itself, the journal had little value—just a travelogue, really—but it recorded one particularly intriguing encounter.”

Snape paused dramatically, only continuing once even Dumbledore had leaned in closer to listen.

“It seems that the journal’s author, while traveling, met someone with a strong connection to Hogwarts.”

“Who?” McGonagall asked eagerly.

“Salazar Slytherin,” Snape revealed at last, “or rather, Salazar Slytherin after he’d already left Hogwarts.”

The assembled professors looked on in stunned silence.

Even Professor Quirrell seemed unusually alert, a glint of deep interest replacing his usual jittery demeanor.

Salazar Slytherin, one of Hogwarts’ four founders, had famously left the school due to irreconcilable differences with the other founders. Since then, he had seemingly vanished from history.

And yet here was a journal with a record of Slytherin’s life after Hogwarts.

“What did it say?” McGonagall asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Snape admitted, at last dropping his mask of omniscience. “The journal disappeared almost as soon as it was discovered. The wizard who brought it forward was later threatened and robbed. Judging by the methods, I’d say it was likely our friends in the Outcast Alliance.”

The professors’ intrigue promptly dimmed.

McGonagall, however, seemed thoughtful. “Does this mean the Outcast Alliance is after something connected to Hogwarts? Strange. As far as I know, they’ve had no connection with the school. What interest could they possibly have here?”

“Perhaps they’re interested in a particular student,” Snape suggested, casting a sharp glance over to the Gryffindor table, searching for a pair of familiar eyes.

Unseen by the staff, Bruce suddenly sneezed over at the Hufflepuff table.

It seemed that someone, somewhere, was thinking about him.