Fratricide
It won't do to kill your own brother
Chapter 1: In the interest of peace
Albus Potter sat crosslegged on his bed in the Slytherin boy's dormitory. There was a series of charts, diagrams and lists scattered on the green comforter and his green eyes were narrowed in concentration. He did not look up as Scorpius Malfoy strode in, looking exhausted and underfed with bags under his eyes and a piece of parchment in his fist.
"I have an updated list of people from Slytherin who aren't going to fight."
It took a few minutes before Al tore his gaze away from the outdated list he had been analyzing. His perpetually messy hair stood out on all sides, and he would have looked comical if it hadn't been for the obvious strain on his freckled visage.
Scorpius looked no better. His robes hung around his emaciated frame, and his pale skin had taken on a new echelon of white. Clearing his throat, he glanced down at Thaddeus Nott's untidy scroll.
"Nora Nott won't fight," Scorpius's voice was hoarse.
Albus cursed under his breath. Nora was the resident Slytherin Charms master and losing her would prove to be a major blow on the eve of the battle.
"So who does that leave fighting for us?"
Scorpius squinted down at the paper, marred by inkblots, tears and many arrows, "Gigi Zabini, Thaddeus Nott, Bartholomew Goyle, Lucy Weasley, Lysander Scamander, Bellona Flint, Thelonius Flint, Evangeline Montague, Acacius Warrington…"
"How many do we have in total?"
Scorpius studied the sheet, "It's hard to say; we're not exactly sure about who will show up."
Albus went back to perusing his list, "They'll show up."
Silence.
"Al," Scorpius's voice wavered, "I don't want Rose to fight Al."
"We need Rose." Albus replied with finality.
Scorpius turned on his heel abruptly and left the way he came. Al, completely engrossed, missed out on his friend's desperate whisper.
"But I need her more."
---
James Potter sat in the common room, surrounded by his most trusted advisors. Fred Weasley sat on the couch closest to the fire, his hand intertwined and his dark eyes seemingly lost in the bright flames. Alice Longbottom sat on the floor next to Fred, her knees drawn to her chest and a quill tucked behind her ear. The common room had been cleared of everyone except the seventh years. Fiona Finnegan was dozing off next to Alice, her blonde head finding a comfortable spot on Alice's shoulders. Greta Thomas was pacing the floor and Richard Forester leaned against the stone wall, looking grim.
"We've lost a lot of people to the Slytherin side, open-mindedness and all that rubbish," James mumbled crossing out a few names on his list. Alice stared into the fire, her mouth half open.
"James, I'm not fighting."
James peered up at her, a scowl on his face, "Yes you are, you're fighting Alice."
"No, I'm not James, especially when I know that you're the one in the wrong."
She would have rose up and left for her dorm if Fiona hadn't been using her as a headrest.
James' eyes were icy as he returned to his list. There was a tense silence before Fred spoke up, seemingly to the fireplace.
"Can you really hurt Al?"
James didn't blink.
"Yes."
Reviews? Comments? Questions? Just a plot bunny that's been bothering me...