Hello world.
Rated 'M' just in case I get the urge to swear or add a steamy sex scene in there...
It's a love triangle, people, don'tcha just adore 'em? Bit of a slow beginning, sorry, but if you guys like it, I'll update quickly and it'll get more interesting (hopefully...)
Read, review and most importantly: criticise. Am willing to bribe with virtual food. *shifty eyes*
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters J.K.R came up with. I do own my own character and this story line, so no stealing (not that you'd want to).
Albus Potter was nothing like his older brother, James, who had been running rampage throughout the shining red train since it pulled out of Platform 9 and ¾. Nervous despite his father's best efforts to reassure and his mother's calm, loving smile, Albus had not moved from the window seat of the carriage he and his brother had claimed. His intent study of the countryside as it flashed past in varying shades of grey and green that was typical of England had only been broken momentarily by the sharp rap on the glass pane of the door, where the trolley laden with sweets tried unsuccessfully to tempt him out of his panic. Just the thought of eating a chocolate frog made his stomach twist painfully, and the butterflies redouble their attack. The witch pushing the trolley had given him an understanding smile and continued her trek to the front of the train.
One cheek rested lightly against the cool glass of the window and his piercing green eyes moved rapidly across the page of the book on his lap: a new, although obviously well-read copy of 'Hogwarts, A History'. Albus devoured the words, and soon the butterflies, while they didn't disappear altogether, became easier to ignore. The carriage door opened with a bang that made Albus jump, bumping his head against the window and causing him to drop his book in shock. His eyes snapped towards the door, and he prepared to shout at his brother, but stopped dead at the sight. A waterfall of light brown hair stopped at the small of the intruder's back, just above an intricate leather belt which held up skinny jeans. This was most definitely not James. Even from the back, Albus could tell the stranger had been running – the rib cage was heaving, and the giggle that escaped and floated back to Albus' ears was slightly out-of-breath. Having finished tugging down the blinds, the intruder turned slowly, revealing a slightly chubby face and a pair of extraordinarily large brown eyes, which shone with mirth. Albus found himself face to face with a girl of about his age. There was a GIRL in his carriage. The butterflies returned to torment Albus with a vengeance. The smile on the girl's face slipped briefly when she noticed Albus, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but she collected herself and spoke.
"Erm, hey. I didn't see you – I thought this was empty, sorry. We were playing hide and seek, only there aren't that many places to hide on this train. Hugo's counting," she said, with easy confidence. When Albus didn't reply, she continued in the same bright tone, "My name's Persephone," she grimaced theatrically, "but if you call me that, I'll hex you. I'm Sephy Connell. Who're you?"
"Uh, Albus. Potter," Albus replied, his tongue tripping up over the words, feeling clumsy and shy. His palms became sweaty and he trembled ever so slightly, cursing his crippling shyness.
"You're Hugo's cousin!" she exclaimed joyfully, seeming proud of her skills of deduction. It was more of a statement than a question, but Albus replied with a murmur of assent anyway.
Almost as soon as she had mentioned his name, Hugo Weasley burst into the carriage, shouting triumphantly as he caught Persephone by the wrist.
"I FOUND you," he crowed, "your turn to count. 'Sup, Al?" he added almost as an afterthought, catching sight of his quiet cousin. Al smiled, and the pair left, Hugo dragging the girl by the arm, laughing and chatting easily. Not for the first time, Albus envied his cousin's natural ability to make friends and his happy-go-lucky attitude. Silence descended once again on the empty carriage, and Albus curled up by the window with his book. He barely saw the words, fascinated instead by the quickly fading image of huge brown eyes and a grin like a Cheshire cat.
Albus woke with a start, blinking away the last strands of the dream. It had been six years since that encounter on the train, and he marvelled at how quickly his years at Hogwarts had passed. Now in his seventh year, a prefect, he struggled to find any differences between his eleven-year old self and himself. Very little had changed – he was still just as shy, preferring to spend his free time in the library alone or the common room with his small group of friends rather than shamelessly chasing after girls, playing Quiditch or experimenting with muscle-boosting spells and potions. The few noticeable changes were physical - he had grown to the respectable height of 6ft2 and had lost the extremely scrawny look of his youth, having avoided the gangly stage which his cousin had inherited from his father, and the light stubble on his slightly tanned skin gave him a slightly indie look.
Albus ran a hand through his unruly black hair and kicked off the red and gold bedspread. He swung himself out of the four-poster bed ignoring the cries of protest from his brain which told him to stay in the warmth. The cold air hit him like a wall and he shivered, pulling on a large dark blue jumper his grandmother had knitted for him the previous Christmas. Loud snores were coming from the ginger head in the next bed, the noise distorted by the fact that the head was face-down in the pillow. Albus smiled briefly as his cousin snuffled, coughed and resumed his snoring. Hugo had had a late night the previous night – as Captain of the Gryffindor Quiditch team, he'd taken it upon himself to provide some of Hogwarts' cellars' finest firewhiskey and show a few of his groupies a rather good time. Albus doubted whether Hugo would be awake in time for lunch today.
The sun was shining unusually brightly for September, so Albus decided to take advantage of his habit of rising early and walk down to the lake. He hastily pulled on a pair of his jeans and grabbed the thick volume that was resting precariously on his bedside table. He passed quickly through the deserted common room, not without noticing a tie that distinctly resembled Hugo's dangling from the gilded arm of a candelabrum. He exhaled softly in a half-laugh, and eased himself out of the portrait-hole.
The Seventh Year Girls' dormitory was filled with an almost undetectable symphony of inhale-exhale-inhale-exhale as the girls flitted through dreams. One girl sat, lost in thought and completely, unbearably awake. She stared out of the medieval window, her arms encircling her slender legs and hugging them to her chest, one half of her face hidden by a rippling wall of hair. The sun caught a strand that was loosely wound across her finger and it blazed bronze and red. Unaware of this new halo of fire, Persephone's large eyes stared unseeing at the mass of forest that moved restlessly before her eyes.
Her eyes snapped back to the present, dragging her out of memories of her past life, and they followed the figure of a boy with a shock of black hair as he made his way slowly across the grounds. Even from this distance, Persephone could tell that he was engrossed in the object he held in both hands – his head was bent, and he did not look up once. Despite the fact that his attention was so obviously focused elsewhere, he moved with surprising grace and instinctively sidestepped uneven ground. He almost seemed to be dancing over the dewy grass, waltzing with the elongated shadow he cast before him.
Intrigued, Persephone's gold-flecked eyes followed his journey closely, trying all the while to guess at his identity. Only when he finally disappeared over a hill did she remember why she was awake so early. Guiltily, she forced her mind back on to Hugo and the question he had asked her. Did she want to go out with him? She liked him, sure, but she could not tell whether what she felt for him was the bond between friends of six years, or the attraction between boy and girl. He always had to be so bloody difficult and impatient, too, she sighed in exasperation. He had asked her yesterday, swept up in the euphoria of beating Slytherin in the Quiditch season's opening match, to go to Hogsmede next weekend as his girlfriend.
Once more, her eyes focused on a spot in the distance as she relived the memory.
[Flashback]
Hugo Weasley came bursting into the Gryffindor common room, a few minutes ahead of his cheering fan, his face brilliantly happy. Persephone had run back to the common room ahead of the rest of the house in order to begin decorating the room for the inevitable and eagerly awaited after-match party. She was half-way through the spell that would cause a scarlet and gold lion to prowl around the high ceiling, roaring periodically, when he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up and spun her around in celebration.
She smacked him lightly on the head and said, in mock-anger, "Put me down, idiot, or I'll turn you red and gold for the rest of the year. NEVER interrupt the master."
"You'll have to catch me first," he laughed, sticking out his tongue at her playfully, but he lowered her to the ground.
"Congratulations, Captain," she said, and stood on tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the cheek. He smiled and allowed her to continue weaving her spells.
A moment of comfortable silence passed, then he cleared his throat. Persephone turned at the sound to see her best friend standing somewhat awkwardly, fiddling with a loose thread on his Quiditch uniform. He realised she was staring and shoved his hands in his pockets in an attempt at nonchalance.
"So, Sephy…" he began, slowly.
Impatiently, she finished the spell and tucked her wand away. "Spit it out, Weasley, I've got more interesting things to do than watch you stutter. Watching paint dry, for example."
He took a deep breath.
"The first Hogsmede weekend is next week, and I was sort of wondering if you'd come with me?"
Persephone looked exasperated.
"That's what you wasted my precious time for? I ALWAYS go with you – me, you, Alice, Luke, Charlie, Jamie and Sara. Jeez, Hugo, it's not like we've done anything else for the past six years."
"No, I meant…um… Will you come to Hogsmede with me on a date?" The end of the sentence came out in a tumble of words, as though Hugo couldn't get rid of them quickly enough. He blushed, the bright red clashing with his ginger hair.
Persephone stood in stunned silence, plans for decorating the common room completely forgotten in her surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form the words the room was flooded with energetic, euphoric Gryffindors and the pair was separated by a mass of bodies. She gave him an apologetic half-smile and let herself be carried away on the tide.
Persephone was kept busy all night, and Hugo was constantly surrounded by a tight circle of gushing girls, one of whom actually stroked his bicep at one point. Persephone shook her head in disbelief, but couldn't help laughing. Hugo was loving every moment of it, and she was glad that he was distracted, as it meant that she was given more time to consider his offer. At around 1 in the morning, she said goodnight to her friends, all of whom were completely drunk and happy in equal measures and retreated to her bed to think.
Unaware that he was being watched, Albus made his way across the grounds of his school, nose buried in a book on Albus Dumbledore, his namesake. His achievements were breathtaking, and Albus was completely absorbed. He did not need to glance at the path his feet were taking, having walked it more times than he could count. He made his way towards his favourite spot in the school, a place he was confident no one had ever been.
Albus reached the lake and looked up briefly to admire the way the early morning sun danced over the water, making it seem as though a million tea-lights were floating on the surface. He didn't linger there long, however, eager to reach his haven. Heading to the left, he neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and found a path that was hidden to the untrained eye.
Engrossed in his book, he let instinct guide him through the forest until he arrived at a clearing in the middle of the dense, dark trees. Compared to the surrounding forest, the clearing shone with light. The calf-length grass was littered with wildflowers, the scents of which fused together to create a heady, pleasant perfume. Winding through the middle of the glade was a small brook filled with crystal clear water that tripped over smooth grey pebbles.
Albus wandered slowly towards the stream, settling himself on the bank. He removed his socks and shoes and allowed his feet to lightly graze the surface of the water. The feel of the cold water running through his toes, coupled with the scent of the flowers, made him relax completely. He sighed happily and leaned backwards, letting the springy grass mould itself to his body. Home.