31 July 1980 Who: Albus and Sirius What: Checking for magical maladies and such When: Friday afternoon, 3pm Where: The headmaster's office at Hogwarts Rating: PG-13 because man those Order kids like the word "fuck" Status: Duking it out old school, aka in progress
The blackness on his fingers had yet to change in any way, but Albus was not reassured. He was unable to move them but for brief flickers if that, and his knuckles seemed incredibly stiff. He did not think it could possibly bode well, but until Dedalus was able to assess the damage himself, there was really nothing to be done. All the healing Albus himself knew had done absolutely nothing. The horcrux itself remain unbroken. Albus had been searching for solutions to no avail. The books on the subject matter he'd removed from the library upon becoming headmaster more detailed the gruesome way in which they were created, and the horrific possibilities that could occur to the soul-splitter's human body. Albus could not help but wonder what Tom Riddle looked like these days. His features had changed drastically (to Albus' recollection) upon his return from Romania, and that was many years ago.
He sad in his office waiting for Sirius, almost thankful for Fabian's mention. Certainly the boy's return should be monitored by everyone for his own safety as well as everyone else's. The reality of what had happened... could have many adverse effects on Sirius' mental state. Albus, in all honesty, was more worried for that, than for whatever easter eggs Bellatrix Lestrange had planted in Sirius' brain.