DISCLAIMER: I DEFINITELY DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, THAT WOULD BE OUR DEAR J.K ROWLING.

Our Place

A/N This is dedicated to my dear cousins who I saw this weekend at a family reunion. They love fanfic, but not Doctor Who, which has had my primary writing focus for a long time. Consequently, they requested some more Harry Potter and I was happy to do so. So here is my first of their requests. I hope you guys like it! Oh, specifically this is to Big T. :-)

Albus wandered through the stone cold dungeon, treading so lightly his footsteps barely echoed in the corridors. Seven years of sneaking through the school had taught him a lot. Every night found him making the trek from the Gryffindor Tower to the depths of the dungeons and he had never been caught in all his years at Hogwarts. The first rule that enabled his successful journeys was the secrecy. Not even his best friends in the world, Rose and Scorpius, knew where he disappeared at night. It was his secret place, his sanctuary from every imaginable things from nightmares to girls.

Not that he ever had much trouble with girls. He was too shy to attract that trouble. Even with his looks, which were dizzyingly delicious as Victoire once told him, the girls were far too intimidated by his silence. Once a year or so, one girl would get up the nerve to try for him, but they could never keep it up for long. Albus much preferred it that way. In fact, though quiet by nature, he played it up for all it was worth in class specifically to scare off the girls. He could do without the drama, thank you. With his friends or on the quiditch pitch... that was another thing entirely.

Still, he treasured the time he could devote to being an introvert, and as a result his first task upon arriving at the school had been to find his place. It hadn't been terribly difficult; he knew one room, one place so deserted he was assured of his privacy. The Chamber of Secrets.

The original entrance in the girls lavatory was not the ideal place for an eleven-year-old boy, and it was also difficult to enter without speaking parseltongue. Unfortunately enough, Albus didn't have his father's ability. His first priority was then to discover a second entrance. His quick friendship with the portraits and ghosts of the castle soon proved useful as they were able to help him find the second tunnel in the depths of the school. Well, they didn't actually find one. Albus eventually blasted a whole in the wall to reach the massive pipe system at the others' insistence. It was one of his very favorite memories to date. There was nothing quite like blowing up walls.

Albus reached the wall, now tightly sealed by all appearance. He muttered a spell, and touched the snake he had carved into the brick. The wall slid out of the way, revealing the open pipe. He ducked inside, grinning. Even after all these years, he still got a rush knowing he was breaking all sorts of rules.

The vast system of tunnels twisted and turned into mindless knots that could be dangerously disorienting. From the very beginning, Albus had been careful to keep meticulous track of where he was at all times for fear of being lost in the labyrinth. Even now, familiar as he was with the tunnels, he was sure to check his handmade map now and again.

Albus got to the Chamber in good time and without any trouble from the creatures that sometimes roamed through the pipes. The water lapped quietly at the walkway, a soft and soothing sound that promised he had come home. He idly patted the basilisk's skull as he passed, an old habit originally born out of fear. He was just started up old Salazar's head when he heard a most disturbing sound. Footsteps, in the Chamber. That was wrong, so wrong.

Albus whipped around, drawing his wand as he went. Standing at the far end, was a girl her face proud and challenging. She was short for sixteen, and skinny too. Her blonde hair was pixie cut, adding to the overall young appearance. But her eyes, darker blue than Albus had ever seen, were sharp and unyielding, anything but childlike. Arabelle Blake. Captain of Slytherin quiditch team, arguably the best chaser in the school, next to Albus of course, wicked brilliant in potions, and by far the most intriguing, powerfully beautiful girl he knew. But when she crossed into his territory, his secret haven, it didn't matter how fast his heart beat around her. She was invading.

"What are you doing here?" Albus spat, as she walked towards him.

"Looking for you," she answered her voice colder than quiditch in the snow. "You've got a lot of nerve coming down here, you know."

"I've been coming here fore seven years," he said. "It seems to me you're the one with nerve."

"This is Slytherin's place," she answered.

"Wrong. This is my place. What do you want with me anyway?"

"You threw the exam today," Arabelle said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Albus took a step back. Arabelle was so good at potions she had been advanced into seventh year a month into school. That day, her partner, who happened to be Albus, blew up the cauldron ten minutes before class was dismissed, earning the two of them a shared zero for the project. It wasn't his fault though. If she wasn't so distracting when she worked, he would never have messed up the potion.

"That wasn't my fault," Albus defended. "The cauldron was too hot."

"And who was in charge of maintain the heat," she asked. "Hmm, let me think... You!"

"Term finals aren't until next week, we'll make it up then," Albus said, his heart hammering. She was sooo going to kill him.

"Not if you blow it again. What were you thinking Potter!

"I don't... I wasn't" he stuttered, too frightened by the anger crashing off her to answer.

"That's right, you weren't thinking, were you?" Arabelle glared at him, her fist clenched tightly around her wand. Albus barely managed to keep from running on the spot. She was frightening on a normal day, when she was angry... he was absolutely terrified. It didn't help that her cheeks flushed pink when she was mad and her eyes glowed with intensity, that just added a whole other level of fear. Merlin, she was gorgeous when she was mad. No, he had to remind himself. She wasn't gorgeous, just attacking his sanctuary. She had to leave.

"Look, let's talk about it in the morning," he said, holding in the sudden roar in his veins. Violence was not the answer. "You probably have better things to do right now."

"Don't you dare try being diplomatic with me," she said. "I'm not finished with you."

"But I'm finished," he said irritably. "You have no right to come here, so get out of and we'll talk about it later."

"I'm not leaving until you learn your lesson," Arabelle replied, and he winced as as her hand tightened on the wand.

"I'm failing the class, isn't that enough?" he asked, stepping back again while keeping his eyes fixed on the wand.

"What?" she asked, caught off guard. "That's impossible."

"Tell that to my parents who are going to butcher me alive when I get home," Albus said

"You were second in your class last year behind Scorpius, who's almost as good as me. How can you be failing?"

Arabelle's hand relaxed as she studied him closely, her eyes narrowed. He squirmed under her gaze. He would almost rather be at the mercy of her wand than her staring. His cheeks got hot and he was suddenly very conscious of his rumbled clothes.

"I don't know," Albus muttered, looking at the basilisk, the water, anywhere but her.

"Well," she paused, "figure it out then, because you're not dragging me down with you."

Having said that, Arabelle turned, stalking off sharply. Albus watched her go, his pulse starting to settle back into normalcy. Except, it peaked sharply when he realized his secret wasn't so secret anymore. She knew now something that people had wanted to know for years. He couldn't just let her go with information like that.

"Arabelle, wait!" he called, a quaffle sized rock settling into his stomach. "You won't tell will you?"

"You mean about failing the class?" She asked, her eyebrows knit in momentary confusion.

"No..." He shuffled on his feet. "I mean about... about this place."

"Oh that." Arabelle smiled, a crooked mischievous grin that melted his heart like chocolate frogs on a summer day. "I've known you come here since my third year."

"You... you have? And you never told anyone?"

"Don't be an idiot, Potter." She rolled her eyes. "This is your place. I get it. But you should know, it's my place too."

"Since when?" he asked, the familiar protective fire springing to life.

Arabelle looked down, something Albus never saw her do, and he momentarily wondered at the tinge of pink in her cheeks.

"Since third year," she said shrugging. "You came at night, so I started coming in the mornings. I learned to hear your footsteps in the tunnels so I could leave if you came for an unexpected visit. You're terribly quiet, you know."

"Yeah, I do know," Albus said, still quite surprised by it all. "It's kind of the point."

"I learned to walk quietly too, after watching you," she said. Her accompanying smile was different, like a little girl. "I'm pretty good now, but not like you. It helps that I'm small I guess, but you, you've got it down to an art."

Albus couldn't stop the pleased grin from surfacing as he tucked her compliment into permanent storage.

"I could teach you, if you'd like," he offered. "And you could teach me that flying trick you do."

Arabelle paused to consider him carefully. Albus's face felt hot again, but this time, when she wasn't angry, her face looked warm too. Looking at each other, without fighting or under the harsh light of competition in quiditch, Albus felt a connection that wasn't there before, or at least not acknowledged before. He had a feeling they might learn to get along if they would just stop fighting it.

"Yeah," she said after a moment of contemplation. "That would be good. And maybe... maybe we can do some brewing together, you know, to practice for class so you don't do something harebrained."

Albus smiled. "Tomorrow night?"

"Here?"

"Of course," he said. "After all, it is our place.