Revelio [Max]

[Alecsander]

[24 Sept]

Alex paced his library. Well, he paced in front of the big fireplace. A pensieve sat to one side, near his desk. He felt much better, his burns healed over but still tender, his lungs no longer aching. He found himself filled with restless energy, he couldn't sit still and focus. Hence, the pacing, although Max wasn't actually late yet. He wasn't sure if his restlessness came from being in bed for nearly five days or if it came from the fight he'd had earlier with Morag. And Elle. Merlin have mercy.

He was doomed.

He paced to his desk, lightly resting his hand on the little chest with its precious cargo. The penseive had been delivered just before the attack on Azkaban, and he hadn't had a chance to use it. And he'd wanted to wait for Max. Suddenly the dogs who had been sleeping by the fire, bored of watching their master pace, went tearing off towards the hall, barking fanatically. "Max?" Alex called, moving towards the hall. No wards had been tripped, so it must be his nephew.

[Max Kameren]

"Max?" Alex called, moving towards the hall. No wards had been tripped, so it must be his nephew.

Max glowered up at his uncle from where he stood in the foyer, his hand grazing the dogs as they sauntered under his reach. It has been a decidedly unpleasant day at work; though Max’s relationship was out in the open the St. Mungo’s Rumor Mill was still in full operation, and he’d heard a few interesting stories this afternoon after Alex was discharged.

“So Morag MacDougal seems like a lovely woman. She’s also banned permanently from Mungo’s visiting hours. You sure know how to pick ‘em.” He sighed and crossed his arms, dutifully following his uncle up to the library.

“The interesting thing that was relayed to me several times today, though, was apparently what she was yelling at Elle when she was removed from the premises: that she doesn’t want her son to turn out like Max Kameren.” He cocked his head at his uncle, leaning against the table; he stood near the pensieve but ignored it. More pressing matters needed to be addressed first. “What the fuck does that mean, and why is she screeching it at my place of work? Turn out like me how?”

[Alecsander]

“So Morag MacDougal seems like a lovely woman. She’s also banned permanently from Mungo’s visiting hours. You sure know how to pick ‘em.” He sighed and crossed his arms, dutifully following his uncle up to the library.

"It was one night," Alex groaned, leading Max to the library. One night that had affected the rest of his life. And he,loved Jamie, he did. But he hadn't wanted a child, had thought they were taking the right precautions. Max was right. Morag was a real piece of work.

“What the fuck does that mean, and why is she screeching it at my place of work? Turn out like me how?”

He winced. He had not ever wanted to,have this conversation, especially with Max. Apprehension filled him, this would not be an easy conversation. And with what could be in those vials? He knew Max would be upset. He knew there had been nothing he,could do, he had tried and done his best but his body and his magic had failed at,such a critical point. He knew. But it was hard to convince the heart, the soul, that the guilt was not his to bear. And the anger, anger his failure. And anger and frustration that he,couldn't let it go. He usually crushed the feelings, burying them deep, deep. Where he couldn't feel them most of the time.

But he was feeling raw today, especially after the fight. His emotions were everywhere, frazzled. He tried to reign them in, to compress them like he did when he fought. He only partially succeeded. He ran fingers through his hair, raking his scalp. "She means, kidnapped. A pawn in some game. She hatez that I'm an auror, and she's,convinced I'll get him killed."

[Max Kameren]

That old familiar ring of pain and guilt echoed through Max off Alex’s aura and he bowed his head, biting his cheek to keep from commenting: he hated this. He knew they couldn’t help it, that their lingering guilt shouldn’t weigh on him just as they should be able to let it go after so long, but here they were. Curse had died with that same ring in his aura. Alex still carried it today.

But in the end, it had worked out. Max was a grown man now, he’d made it through the aftermath of the war relatively unscathed. And as much as their guilt lingered, without Alex and Curse’s strength Max wouldn’t have made it through. The kidnapping wasn’t their fault, but his success as an adult they could take credit for. Alex was a good parent, Max knew first hand.

Alex was frazzled, fidgeting under Max’s unmoving gaze. ”She means, kidnapped. A pawn in some game. She hatez that I'm an auror, and she's,convinced I'll get him killed."

“Ah. I get it.” A bitter smile rose in Max’s cheeks and he rubbed his jaw under his beard, sighing to try to relieve some of the pain and anger bubbling up in him at then implication of Alex’s statement. “I was the example she set. Dad fucked me up, and you’d only do the same.” He shook his head, setting his jaw and looking up at his uncle with a piercing stare. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

How dare this woman use him that way?! Until today Max had never met Morag MacDougal; beyond what she read in the Prophet after the War this woman knew nothing about Max. She didn’t know anything about his life, and she definitely didn’t know a damn thing about how his relationship with his father affected him. Max’s sigh turned into a frustrated growl at the end and he pushed himself up from the library table, pacing the same route Alex had been earlier.

He rolled his eyes, coming to a stop in front of Curse’s wooden chest. He ran a hand through his thick hair, throwing his hands in the air. “I just - whatever. Let’s open the damn vials.”

[Alecsander]

“I was the example she set. Dad fucked me up, and you’d only do the same.” He shook his head, setting his jaw and looking up at his uncle with a piercing stare. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

"You think I don't?" Alex flared, Max's anger raw on his already frazzled nerves. "I know. I've tried but just because I know doesn't mean I can convince my heart of it!" he took deep breath, wincing slightly. Oh, there was the pain, he'd thought his lungs completely healed but as he was,learning, that was not the case. And the same for that old wound, the guilt and anger that kept returning to him when he least expected it. But at least he could know the tenderness in his lungs would heal. 17 years hadn't healed other wpunds, despite his trying. He breathed deeply anyway, focusing on the pain and trying to release the emotions he felt.

It was,familiar, more so when Max had been younger,but he knew his nephew was affecting him, and he knew his own frazzled mind must be grating. So he focused, trying to put the feelings aside. 

"I didn't want to fight, not in front of him." he said finally. He well knew what that was like. "And he was happy."

He rolled his eyes, coming to a stop in front of Curse’s wooden chest. He ran a hand through his thick hair, throwing his hands in the air. “I just - whatever. Let’s open the damn vials.”

Alex sighed, selecting a random vial and pouring it into the penseive. Hopefully nothing crazy would come from this, but he had a sinking feeling that would not be the case. He knew his brother too well for that.

[Max Kameren]

“I was the example she set. Dad fucked me up, and you’d only do the same.” He shook his head, setting his jaw and looking up at his uncle with a piercing stare. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

"You think I don't?" Alex flared but Max sent him a hard, skeptical look. If he didn’t believe that at least a little, would he have avoided his son for ten years? If that wasn’t his reasoning then what was? "I know. I've tried but just because I know doesn't mean I can convince my heart of it!" he took deep breath, wincing slightly.

Max heard the hitch in his uncle’s breathing and backed off, consciously closing his aura off from him. He didn’t want to have this argument, he didn’t want to bring his own baggage into someone else’s situation, but apparently Morag MacDougal thought differently. His life had been used as a sticking point to manipulate Alex for over a decade. He felt violated. Max simmered in his anger as he paced.

"I didn't want to fight, not in front of him." he said finally. He well knew what that was like. "And he was happy."

He rolled his eyes, coming to a stop in front of Curse’s wooden chest. He ran a hand through his thick hair, throwing his hands in the air. Did Alex really think he would have made Jamie unhappy? Would listening to a row every now and then have affected him more than not having a father at all? “I just - whatever. Let’s open the damn vials.”

Alex sighed, selecting a random vial and pouring it into the penseive. Max’s eyes followed the vial and he read the label: FLUX. He shrugged and followed suit with Alex, the two falling into the Pensieve filled with Curse Kameren’s Memory:

.. .. .. .. .. ..

The ball went up, and came down. Up, down. Up down. There was no up without down. Curses sharp green gaze followed the ball as it moved, deep in thought. He caught it again on the fourth 'down' and examined it in his pale, bony fingers. 

Max and Alex were transported to the first floor of the Headmaster’s quarters at Hogwarts. It was decorated as Curse had left it, cluttered with bric-a-brac he’d amassed after his years of experience as an auror then a Potions Master: tracking and protection devices, rare ingredients and specialized vials. Curse’s collections were always utilitarian, saving things in case he needed them. Filing things away in his mind for later, much like the memory they now stood inside. The tall healer looked around, finally finding the image of his father sitting behind his desk, tossing a ball into the air.

"There has to be a destination. All that energy can't just disappear." The problem vexed Curse for ten years. His emerald eyes flashed up at the portraits above him in his office; the legacy he represented, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Specifically, his eyes found a suspicious space between Headmistress McGonagall and his predecessor, Headmistress Connors. The space reserved for Headmistress Brightweather, lost in the Flux, remained empty for the last 10 years. The spell in place to hang her portrait upon her death had never been activated.

He tossed the ball up again. He snapped, and the ball disappeared in mid-air. A moment later he snapped again and the ball reappeared, falling into his hand. 

Time. To defeat Mosrael in a duel, Curse had needed to stop time itself. The kind of magic used to tamper with time was dangerous and volatile. It could easily blow back on the one casting it, with grave consequences. For Curse, it had worked out. But what if it hadn't?

Up. Snap. Gone. Snap. Down. Repeat. The gears in Curse's head whirred along with the rhythm. Cain's stone was more powerful than Curse and Mosrael combined. The stone was volatile. The stone was dangerous. It created the demons and sent ripples of tampered magic through their world throughout the war. The stone created and fed on magic energy, it didn't destroy it. Siara's portrait was still gone.

Up. Snap. Gone. Snap. Down. 

They'd be back.

.. .. .. .. .. ..

They reappeared in the library and a frown creased Max’s face, meeting Alex’s eyes in confusion. Evidently, they were supposed to find this chest earlier than they had. Curse had underestimated his own hiding skills.

“Well, he was right I suppose.” Max shrugged. “Probably a bit late on that one.” His fingers found the tops of the other vials and Max inspected them, arching a brow when one in particular caught his eye.

“How about ‘Kameren’? Who knows, maybe dad knew your secret after all…”

[Alecsander]

Alex selected a vial, speaking more to himself than anyone else. "I don't want to be like him." he was hardly concious he had spoken aloud at all. The vial said Flux. they fell into the memory and Alex took a sudden painful breath. He still missed his brother greatly, amd to see him here as if in life... He hadn't been prepared. He smiled. Its good to see you...

____


“Well, he was right I suppose.” Max shrugged. “Probably a bit late on that one. How about ‘Kameren’? Who knows, maybe dad knew your secret after all…”

Even Cain hadn't been sure of the long term effects and Curse had figured it out. And then proceeded to keep his damn mouth shut. Alex sighed, falling into the new vial with Max, mind churning. A young Curse was stumbling through the dungeons of the castle, tripping over years of probably very important family heirlooms(not likely).

____

"I'm gonna kill him."

Alex wheezed out a disbelieving laugh cut short bg the pain he felt when breathing deeply. A crypt, a hidden crypt under the damn Estate. "Whats under there..." he mused, absently reaching for another vial. "Maybe later, you'd like to go down with me?" he invited.

[Max Kameren]

When they stood in Curse’s office Max couldn’t help but feel the surge of pain and happiness that swirled through Alex’s aura at the sight of his brother. He stole a glance at his uncle, letting some of that bittersweet hope soak into him. Max wished it was that easy for him; there was no echo of his father that replicated the way his aura had felt. Eden had created a good likeness in his Headmaster portrait and it was a comfort to see the mannerisms and hear that raspy voice in his memory, but none of it was Curse to him.

They returned to the Library and Max shrugged. “Well, he was right I suppose.” Max shrugged. “Probably a bit late on that one. How about ‘Kameren’? Who knows, maybe dad knew your secret after all…”

.. .. .. .. ..

The two living Kamerens fell into the memory of their lost relative; Max looked around in confusion, not sure where they were until a loud boom made him nearly jump out of his skin.

"Shit, that's probably broken. Sorry, ancestors…"

Max couldn’t help but grin at the sight of young Curse Kameren, still with dark hair and only half his scars. He looked like a different person: lighter, calmer… kind of like Max. He pushed the thought away and followed the image of his father through what he now recognized as the basement of the Kameren Estate.

.. .. .. .. ..

They fell out of the memory with Max uncontrollably laughing. Everything about the Kameren memory was peak Curse: stumbling upon something terribly important, knowing you need to tell someone about it, then totally forgetting it. Max was sure there were several prestigious, groundbreaking ideas and discoveries in Curse Kameren’s mind when he left this earth that he didn’t realize were important enough to remark on. It was perfectly him: so bursting with life-changing information that he didn’t realize it was unusual.

"I'm gonna kill him."

“God I miss him.” Max grinned, his anger from earlier lost in the memory of his parent. He rubbed his beard as he thought, his smile fading lost in thought for a moment. His eyes glanced up to his uncle questioningly. “Should we go look for it?”

"Whats under there..." he mused, absently reaching for another vial. "Maybe later, you'd like to go down with me?"

“’Course.” Max smiled and turned back to Curse’s chest, his fingers stalling over the vials. He touched one briefly for a moment, his eyes falling on the label: Max. He moved one to the left and pulled it up. He wasn’t quite yet ready for his, he worried. “Let’s see what Dad had to say about Milton…”

[Alecsander]

“’Course.” Max smiled and turned back to Curse’s chest, his fingers stalling over the vials. He touched one briefly for a moment, his eyes falling on the label: Max. He moved one to the left and pulled it up. He wasn’t quite yet ready for his, he worried. “Let’s see what Dad had to say about Milton…”

----------

It was a bad day. They usually were when Curse went for his treatments. Alex frowned, watching Milton lecture Curse. His brother never could balance work and his health. He saw the health of his body as incidental to his work, whereas Alex saw that with a healthy body, he could work better. The same had gone for his family, but Curse had been such a prodigy that he had eclipsed them all, even when working at limited capacity. He looked away, and then the memory was over.

The next vial was of the Wizengamot. He remembered this case, Curse had ranted to him about it once or twice, and he knew Cooper. He'd arrested him more than once, but back then, Alex hadn't even made senior auror. It rankled on him though, and he remembered only a couple weeks ago, going over the files. Those soulless eyes. She just stood and stared, despite all the busyness around her, the photographs, the measurements. Her face never changed. Shock?

---

They emerged, Alex quiet as he pondered the last two memories. Reaching into the box, his hand rested on a vial. Max. He was quiet, then held it out to his nephew. "You probably want to see this one alone." Once he had taken it, Alex passed over another vial, Ari, to the last vial, holding it in his hand, looking at Max. "Ready?" He asked before pouring it in.

---

More pain. It brought back memories, not only of these times at the end of his life, but long, long ago. Locked in an apartment, paranoid. Damaged. A brief smile caught Alex's lips, he'd been exasperated then but now it was amusing, Tabby, turning varying shades of green. Perhaps he should share that shard of memory with Max. Or, best not. Not with his memories of Curse at that time.

------

He was in a somber mood as they emerged again. The memories had brought forth ones of his own, and though there had been sparks of goodness, of happiness, most of them were not. They showed a disturbing side of Curse, brought back memories he preferred to forget. As much happiness as there had been, there had also been the bad times. He looked at Max, lifting an eyebrow.

[Max Kameren]

Toward the end of Alex and Max’s marathon of Curse’s memories Max was running out of steam. It was a lot to process; Curse left these for a reason, he was trying to tell them something in each of them even when they weren’t picking up the message. It was bittersweet watching his father move through the memories like a recording, being unable to interact or feel his aura.

It weighed especially on Alex, Max could feel the weight of his aura with each bottle. The later ones were the worst. Curse deteriorated fast at the end of his life, but his children had never really seen him any other way. Their father, for all his power and legend, had always been a psychologically strong but physically frail person. For Alex and Arianna it was different; they had a more complete picture, they knew how he’d been before Mosrael broke his mind and poison broke his body. It weighed harder on Alex, who fought beside him as an auror.

When they returned from the Wizengamot memory Max waited patiently for Alex to collect his thoughts. The auror’s hand skimmed over the tops of the vials, resting briefly on the one labelled for Max. He tensed; after all this, Max wanted to wait on his own for now. Curse had unloaded enough on them this afternoon, and whatever was in that vial was more.

"You probably want to see this one alone."

“Yes, thank you.” Max took it and pocketed it; he’d return to the pensieve on his own, when he was ready.

"Ready?" Max nodded, and together they entered the last memory.

.. .. ..

Max came out of Smokes wracked with guilt. After the third or fourth test of his cigarettes Max began brushing off Curse’s concern about them. He didn’t realize how much it weighed one him, that he would leave him memories to continue looking into it. He stroked his beard at the thought. Maybe it was worth revisiting.

Alex’s aura seeped another kind of concern into Max as well: a slow, painful mourning Max had felt often after his passing. It was a constant passenger in his uncle’s aura, especially when Curse was the subject of their discussion. The two Kamerens met eyes, and Alex arched a brow expectantly.

“So, what do you think?” Max asked, leaning against the table. What had Curse Kameren left them with? “Dad really emphasized the cigarettes again,” Max ran a hand through his hair as he thought, staring into the pensieve, “should we test them again? I swear, Mungo’s ran them tens of times when he kept insisting. I still have some lying around…”

[Alecsander]

“So, what do you think?” Max asked, leaning against the table. What had Curse Kameren left them with? “Dad really emphasized the cigarettes again,” Max ran a hand through his hair as he thought, staring into the pensieve, “should we test them again? I swear, Mungo’s ran them tens of times when he kept insisting. I still have some lying around…”

There was a silence to meet Max's words, Alex was lost in thought. After a short time he looked back to Max. "I'm sure I have some as well. In my experience, Curse is usually right when it comes to these things." A nagging suspicion tugged at Alex's mind but he kept it to himself. They had had the cigarettes tested. Max would have blown up had he known. He looked down at his watch, grimacing.

"Might have to postpone that basement exploration..."

[Max Kameren]

“Dad really emphasized the cigarettes again, should we test them again? I swear, Mungo’s ran them tens of times when he kept insisting. I still have some lying around…” As if he’d summoned it Curse’s face appeared in the bottom of the bowl staring upwards at them, as if he was pleading to do just that.

There was a silence to meet Max's words, Alex was lost in thought. After a short time he looked back to Max. "I'm sure I have some as well. In my experience, Curse is usually right when it comes to these things."

“I know.” Max sighed. The bastard, he usually was right, but they’d tested the cigarettes before. Over ten times they’d tested them when Curse started getting suspicious of them, and every time there was nothing. And now what evidence they had left was old, which might also affect the testing. It felt pointless.

"Might have to postpone that basement exploration..."

“’S fine, I’ve got to head to the Godric’s Hollow house to help Ari with something anyway.” Max shrugged. He grabbed the Ari vial off the table and pocketed it to bring his step-mum; he was sure she would want to see hers on her own just as Max wanted to. He nodded goodbye to Alex, spinning around for the foyer.

“Oh! And,” Max arched a brow in bitter amusement, pausing in the doorway as he pointed a finger at his Uncle, “You aren’t allowed to use me anymore. Either of you. Tell Morag to keep my name out of her mouth. I’m not your excuse not to meet your son anymore: either come up with an actual reason or go meet your kid.” There was no actual reason, Max knew. Jamie knew about him, there was no longer an excuse. The younger Kameren smiled devilishly, calling over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall. “I expect a full report!”

A moment later, with a pop! he disappeared.