A/N: I do so solemnly swear that the story I'm about to tell you is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…or at least as true as it needs to be. Credit for the poem goes to Anonymous, that clever devil, and all her lovely creations to JKR. Thank you.
Chapter 1
Post-Holiday Bliss
Ladies and gentlemen, hoboes and tramps,
Cross-eyed mosquitoes and bow-legged ants,
I come before you to stand behind you,
To tell you something I know nothing about.
Admission is free, so pay at the door,
Pull up a seat and sit on the floor.
Cold autumn rain poured down on London as a parade of curious-looking families paraded through King's Cross Station, with an assortment of odd clothes, oversized trunks, and cages of owls. I pulled the collar of my jacket around my neck in an effort to block the chill, trying not to think about the warm bed I'd left much too early as I pushed my trolley through a brick wall. When I was younger I always wondered why none of the muggles ever found it curious that so many strange people always came through on the same day every year, but my dad explained it was a combination of their unwillingness to believe anything out of the ordinary, and a few memory modification spells on the men and women that worked at the station. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if the Ministry wasn't so over-zealous with those, but then I realized how unfair it would be to unleash some members of the wizarding community on the unsuspecting muggle population. As if on cue, my little sister promptly tore into our cousin in her characteristically snide manner.
"Well aren't you daddy's little princess?" Lily scoffed at Rose's enthusiastic wave goodbye as we all boarded the train after another summer holiday. Trips to Platform 9¾ weren't nearly as hectic as they use to be, I observed, taking my trunk off its trolley and filing in after my sister. After Rose and I graduate at the end of the year, only Lily and Hugo will be left and they rarely ever spoke to each other outside of mandated family functions.
"Oh, like you're any different!" Rose retorted, giving Lils a shove. Lily retaliated by dropping her trunk on Rose's foot. And thus the gauntlet was thrown.
Not saying the trips were a walk in the park, just less insane. Think comparatively on this. As a rule insanity is still in full swing whenever two or more of the Potter-Weasley clan are breathing the same air. Especially Lily and Rose. I've always imagined there was some sort of clandestine meeting between them one night and they challenged each other to be the nastiest girl in the family.
Lily appointed herself the black sheep around second or third year, probably just to separate herself from all the other gingers running around school, but it wasn't until Christmas of her sixth year that she fully embraced her 'nonconformity'. Lils wore about a million earrings every day, chopped off half her red hair and dyed random bits of what was left black and white. To finish it all off, she developed a shine for Myron Wagtail-style tops (as in the lead singer from a band our parents use to listen to). If I didn't know that beneath all that eyeliner was a girl who still cried at the end of The Dragon and His Boy, I'd probably be just as scared of her as half the school. (Though, I would recommend staying on the casting end of one of her entomorphis hexes.)
Rose—whose hand immediately reached to scratch out Lily's eyes—took another angle entirely. She put in Merlin knew how many hours every day to fool everyone into thinking she was perfect. She had big, bushy red hair, but had somehow found a way to un-bush it at school and never went out in public without a face-full of make-up. She was a Prefect (a Hufflepuff beat her out of Head Girl), her grades were above-par, she probably considered herself 'popular' considering all the boyfriends and mates she had, but the thing that probably irked Lily the most was that Rose always got her way, not just with Uncle Ron, but with everyone.
Lily took a handful of Rose's hair and yanked it, saying something about a potion. Rose pushed her face away and stuffed her palm in Lily's mouth. After four years of this sort of thing, I became immune to the gross embarrassment I probably should've felt over my family's behavior, but I think that if I cared any more than I did I'd have died of shame before my OWLs. I knew interfering would just get my head ripped off, so I ignored the two and started looking around the platform for familiar faces. As if the universe was for once listening to my pleas, an eager voice called out, "Hey, Albus!"
I turned around looking for the face to match the voice, almost missing the fumbled smile of William Abrahams—mainly because it was about six inches higher than I was expecting it to be. When did that happen? Will was deceptively small when he joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team two years ago as a fourth year. I say deceptively because he joined as a beater and didn't appear to have any muscle at all, but whatever he lacked there he made up for in other areas. Like being a pure genius with a bat on a broom for one. Had to say though, it looked like he'd be fitting into his stereotype pretty soon.
"Hey, Will!" I greeted amiably. "Have a good holiday?"
He shrugged with his hands in his pockets, not looking at me, and turned a little red. I didn't really get it till I saw the blonde watching us from a little ways off. She was talking to another girl, but it was obvious that the majority of her attention was on Will. I grinned and looked back at the blushing boy. Sod was actually trying not to look like he was the happiest bastard on earth. Grinning, I figured he probably didn't want to waste any time talking to me when he could be snogging his new girlfriend, so I was about to make some lame excuse about needing to find a compartment when a familiar head of brown hair bobbed out of nowhere, and looked around me to eye the witch in question.
"Ooooh! Is that her?" she asked, and continued before getting a response. "I heard you were showing off the new girl, Will, so I had to come check her out for myself. She's a dish!"
Will turned a deep shade of pink, and I rolled my eyes at her toothy grin. I shook my head, hiding my smile. Amelia Davies couldn't be satisfied unless she was having a go at some poor, unsuspecting bystander. Lucky for me, she'd set her sights on Will and his new girl at present. Though, I thought, glancing down at her, sometimes just being around her could be a form of torture… (Oh, sod off!) She had her red and gold scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and even with her nose and cheeks red from the cold she still looked like a witch from one of my mum's catalogues. And I couldn't even pretend not to care.
Amy and I…we had a rather curious relationship. Maybe she understood it, for all I knew all this could be her engineering, but I'd be damned if she ever told me. We'd been friendly, not good friends but we got on well enough, up until about fifth year. I guess you could say we got closer, but at the same time all of our talks between classes or during meals became…well, empty, I guess. Don't get me wrong, I still hung onto every word she said like the bloody ninny I was, but it felt like the more we got to know each othe, the further Amy pushed me away. And the worst of it? I was crazy for her. Seriously. I was totally gone over Amelia Davies. Amelia Fucking Davies. And she couldn't care less if I was a fly buzzing around her head. In fact, she would probably care more.
I ought to look into big, beady eyes and wings. Might set off my glasses and unruly hair.
Not that I blamed her. I mean, just look at me. The word "pathetic" comes to mind. Also the phrase "I'm totally screwed". Mother of Merlin, I'm lame. If you've gotta have a girl, mate, make sure she's nice and boring.
Not that she knew, of course. I never actually told her I liked her. Partly because whatever twisted-friendship we had going would be smashed to bits (like my soppy heart boohoo hoo hoo), but mostly because I was scared shitless I'd get rejected. Not very Gryffindor-ly of me, I know. I knew she'd be nice about it. Amy's weird that way, whenever a situation gets really serious she drops all her crap and turns into the nicest person in the world. I'd hate to get turned down like that. In my mind, when I get rejected, I imagine her laughing in my face, and ruffling my hair like she does with younger guys that actually have the stones to step up and ask her out. It makes me hate her enough so that I don't totally lose my cool whenever she's around. Mostly I just stand there and wish I was a better-looking bloke so I could pull off "the silent type". Damn James getting the pretty genes. Lily too. For some reason the biology lottery just skipped me. I'm lucky that way.
"What?" I asked suddenly, realizing I'd been staring…and that she'd caught me…and that she was grinning. I saw Will wasn't there anymore and wondered just how long I'd been standing there like a wanker, imagining how soft her lips were. I scowled and turned around to pick my trunk up because I couldn't think of what else to do.
I saw her in the corner of my eye, still smiling, but she didn't say anything. Instead she picked up her trunk and owl's cage (I assumed she was letting her owl fly to Hogwarts). It looked like she was having some trouble managing both of them at the same time, and of course Amy would never be satisfied until she could make one trip, so without a word I took the cage from her and made a path onto the Hogwarts Express, not once turning around. The entire way there I just knew she was secretly laughing at me. Couldn't imagine what bloody fucking dunce she must have thought me.
The train was packed full. Amy and I had to duck a few times to avoid random flying objects. When the corridors got too packed and she had to squeeze past me, I probably stood a little closer than I had to. Who was I kidding? I wasn't about to waste the chance to get that close to Amy. I accidentally brushed against her chest and immediately apologized, hoping the color creeping up my face would help sell that it was a total accident. She brushed it off and mumbled something about it being crowded. Yeah, I thought, that's what it is. A couple more projectiles came our way before I followed her further down the train, figuring it would just be natural to grab a seat with her since we were already going to the same direction any way. We passed a couple of Ravenclaw boys having a go at a few younger kids (which Amy put a stop to), Lily and her flavor of the month sucking face (which I put a stop to), and a dark boy trying to sell what looked like ordinary chocolate to a pair of twin girls (which no one put a stop to). The chaos began to die down as we trudged further down the narrow corridor and I was just thinking of a clever opening line when my stupid cousin came bounding out of a compartment in front of them.
"ALBUS!" Rose screamed frantically. I flinched. "Merlin's pants, Albus!"
"I'm near-sighted, not deaf," I muttered, earning a chortle from Amy. I looked at her and grinned. That's how pathetic I was—am. One acknowledgement of a joke and suddenly I'm the funniest bloody guy in the world. Rose ignored me, but turned to Amy, just seeing her. See? Even Rose's problems fall short compared with Amelia Davies.
"Amy, dear!" she exclaimed excitedly. I'd never figured they were that great of friends, Rose always liked hanging out with that slutty Nora Peaks, but I supposed after sharing a dorm for six and a half years you're at least happy to see each other after a holiday.
"Rosie, dear!" Amy quipped, not missing a beat.
"How was your holiday?" Rose asked, still acting like Mrs. Bleeding Claus.
Amy smiled easily, eyes dancing merrily. I liked how nonchalant she was against Rose's hyper-active…whatever it was. She had this look, some kind of cross between amusement, curiosity, and genuine affection. I use to get that look a lot, and it was stupid, but it made me jealous that sodding Rose got it and I didn't anymore. Honestly, I could never understand how they got on at all, much less 'well enough'. That was how Rose described their friendship, she and Amy 'got on well enough'. Amy was so cool about everything, most of what she said was sarcasm and utter rubbish, but she was always so bloody sure of herself and other people. It wasn't that she acted superior, Rose acted like she was superior, I guess it was just that Amy knew what to expect. Rose on the other hand, well, as Scorp always said, Rose was "an uptight bitch with a mouth bigger than her father's vault"—irony I won't get into just yet.
"Just dandy, yours?"
Rose rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, you know—" she gestured at me and made a face and Amy laughed and nodded.
I didn't like it. Not one bit.
"Did you want something, Rose?" I interrupted impatiently, not bothering to suppress my frown. If I found out that she knew something about Amy that I didn't, or was having secret discussions about me, my dear cousin better start praying for a miracle because I didn't like her enough to let her live after such a dastardly betrayal.
Rose's blank expression turned into recollection and then to desperation in the blink of an eye. "YES!" she declared, trying to get me with her big baby-blues. Before she even said it, I knew I was about to give her whatever she wanted. "I left my coin purse at home and I don't want to borrow from my friends and I thought—"
"Here," I cut her off, setting down Amy's birdcage to dump the contents of my pockets into her hand—two galleons, three sickles, and a knut.
She took my money happily, counted it, and shot me a winning smile. "Thanks, Al! You're a—"
"Sucker. I know."
Another eye roll. I hoped they got stuck. She tossed her glossy red hair over her shoulder and held a hand out to me. "See what I have to put up with?" she threw to Amy with an exasperating sigh.
I noticed that she didn't deny I was a sucker.
"It must be terrible," Amy agreed with a little too much pity. "I hate it when my family gives me money." I smirked at Rose who pocketed the coins and threw her hands up in the air.
"I give up!" she cried to the ceiling before eyeing both of us. "You deserve each other." And with that, she turned on her heel and slammed the compartment door shut. Girly sounds came from inside. I figured that's where most of her roommates were and hoped Amy wasn't planning on joining them. I quickly cast a sideways glance towards her. It didn't look like she was. Which reminded me of the last thing Rose said. She knew I fancied Amy, so if my dear cousin had spilled the beans before I was ready to make a move, she better have a will ready, because I was going to kill her. I watched Amy's expression, trying to gauge whether or not she'd guessed what Rose had been implying.
"What do you think she meant by that?" I asked, tilting my head, and moving over to Amy's side as two boys passed us. I tried to decipher the look on her face, but all she did was turn a little pink and shrug. Rose was probably just messing with my head again. Great. That was all I needed: Rose Weasley having a go at my mental sensibilities. I was already enough of a head case as it was.
"C'mon," I grumbled, gesturing at the corridor with Amy's birdcage. "Let's go get a seat before they're all taken."
Without waiting for a response, I marched past several more occupied compartments before stopping in front of one with an open door. I stuck my head in to check for luggage. Nope. "Looks like this one's empty," I called over my shoulder and stepped in.
Under normal circumstances, I would've been polite and asked Amy if she wanted help putting her stuff into a compartment with Susan Longbottom or another of her friends. As it was, she and Rose already forced me into irritable greed so I grumpily stuffed my trunk and her birdcage on the racks above the seats. She shuffled in slowly with both hands gripping the handle of her trunk. I immediately snatched it up and packed it in with mine. That accomplished, I wasted no time in slouching down into one of the cushiony, velvet seats and wallowed in my foul mood.
Amy didn't say anything so I ignored her and looked out the window as the train started. It slowly began moving out of the station and I could see the people on the platform rolling by behind clouds of steam. Towards the front I spotted my dad talking to a stooped man in old robes. He seemed none-too-pleased about the man's company, not that I could blame him. I couldn't tell if it was his long, skinny neck and frilly collar, or his over-sized hooked nose, or just his overall depressing demeanor that made the man look an awful lot like a vulture. The two were going out of view when I saw my dad's face turn red and mum and Uncle Ron showed up and grabbed his arms. The train picked up speed and the scene was gone, replaced by the brick tunnel for a long while, and then open air.
I must've been more engrossed than I thought, because I hadn't noticed that Amy moved across from me until she cleared her throat. "So how was your holiday?" she asked in a placating manner.
I looked up and ruffled my hair absently, suddenly feeling more foolish than annoyed. Honestly, I admit I could be an absolute git at times; but she was a nasty hag at others, so I suppose it all worked itself out in the end.
"Uh…" I declared profoundly. She smiled at me. "Um…" I swallowed. She had a nice smile. "Good!" I said, finally uttering an intelligible word. "My holiday was good...um…how was yours?" I was almost sweating. Pull yourself together, mate. It's small talk, not a bloody interrogation.
Amy continued smiling pleasantly and gripped the seat as she turned to look out the window. "Oh , you know," she answered nonchalantly.
I leaned forward. "That doesn't sound too promising."
She flipped her eyes back at me and gave me a look, maybe deciding whether or not to tell me whatever was bugging her. I hoped she would. Maybe sooner or later she'd be comfortable enough to go with me to Hogsmeade alone. You know, as friends. That's about the closest thing to a date I'd ever be able to get, anyway. (I wouldn't be able to brood so much, otherwise.) Amy smoothed out her hair and curled up on the seat.
"I don't even know anymore," Amy admitted quietly. It wasn't very often that she set her sarcasm aside so I just sat there and let her talk. Like I'd have anything to say, anyway. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm adopted or someone's love child or something." She shook her head, and her light brown hair spilled over her shoulders. "I mean, I'm nothing like either of my parents. I swear. It's not just an age gap. We're two totally different species." At this she stuck her hands over her head like antlers and screwed up her face. I laughed as she shrugged it off.
I could tell that she wasn't really over it, but I didn't know what would be comforting and she seemed to be getting back to her old self so I just rolled my shoulders and said, "Well, it could be worse." She looked at me and I smirked. Ha! She forgot again. "Your parents could be rich, hardworking, nice, talented, and the saviors of the world."
Amy nodded, laughing. I grinned at her and opened my mouth to say something extremely clever but was rudely interrupted by two trolls bursting into our compartment.
"Bragging again, are we?" the first troll asked and ran fingers through his pale blond hair. He was good looking as far as trolls went, but the lack-of-brains obviously ran in the family.
"Don't be jealous, Scorp. Just 'cause yer dad's a cold-blooded killer…" his friend chided, patting him on the back and plopping down on the seat next to Amy.
"At least he's not a drunk," the first one shot back, taking a seat next to me. I made a great show of how bothersome it was to share with him.
"Now, that hurts!" the second troll held his heart and feigned pain before turning a head toward Amy for sympathy. She nodded pathetically and patted him on the back.
"It was supposed to," my seat-buddy jibed, lips parting to reveal two rows of perfect, pearly white teeth. Trolls with deep pockets can afford excellent dental care.
I rolled my eyes at Amy who grinned back at me. Scorpius Malfoy, Evan Griffiths, and I had been friends since first year when we'd all sat next to each other after the Sorting Ceremony and bonded over the ridiculousness of each of our families. We had inside jokes of inside jokes that made fun of our respective pureblood forefathers. Mainly how cold-blooded the Malfoys were, how thick-skinned the Griffiths were, and how horrifically great the Potters were—or as they might appear.
"Would you two like to be left alone?" Amy asked, smiling sweetly at the two, moving her hand back to her lap. Scorp was sniggering. Evan grinned and snaked an arm around her shoulders. "I only wanna be alone with you," he simpered. I gagged.
Amy's brows rose slightly, but she was obviously amused. I knew she and Griffiths had been friends longer than she and I had, and logic said that if they were ever actually going to do anything, they would've done it by now, but Evan was still a fucking turdface for messing around like that. Especially when he knew how much I liked her.
"How 'bout it, Davies?" the sod continued with a sleazy smile. She smiled back. I shifted uncomfortably. "Up for a ride on my broomstick?"
She laughed. Scorpius clapped. I felt sick.
"No thanks," Amy replied, picking up his arm and setting it back at his side. "There's no telling where it's been."
Evan chuckled and shrugged off the rejection. I tried to hide my satisfaction of her shut-down and the annoyance that he wasn't more put-out. I wasn't as cheesy as Griffiths and couldn't remember half of the pick-up lines he used, but I know that I'd probably sulk for about a day and a half if Amy didn't even play along. I guess that just goes to show how hopelessly pathetic I am.
"So anyway," Scorpius changed the subject, still grinning. Amy and I turned to him, but Evan was still looking at us with a curious smile spread across his ugly face. "We just came from Ben's compartment when Oliver came back from a Prefect meeting with Rose. They looked all happy and were sharing secret smiles so—"
"—Scorp asked 'em when they started macking," Evan cut in, grinning, Scorpius looked annoyed and shot Evan a glare, but pressed on without much indignation. "And they said no, said it was something about it going to be 'a year to remember'—"
"Rose said that," Evan interjected again, finding something in that immensely funny.
Scorp scowled. "Are you going to let me tell the story or not?"
Evan held his hands up in defeat and laughed, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry." He made a sweeping bow to Scorpius. "Please continue, sir!"
Scorp rolled his eyes. What on earth was so big that these two were peeing their pants over? Surely something would've been in the Prophet if it was anything big. I looked over at Amy. She was leaning back in the seat with her legs crossed, looking at Scorpius thoughtfully, nodding along as he continued the story.
"Well after Rose finally left—" Evan snorted and was ignored by all. "—we badgered Oliver until he finally broke down." He looked around at us beaming. "You'll never guess what he said."
"I suppose not," Amy replied curtly, "so you might as well just spill it out."
"Seriously," I whispered.
"Okay, okay…" Scorpius paused for dramatic effect. I glared at him. If this was some stupid build-up for Phoebus Stretton sprouting horns and a forked-tail again, I swore I was going to hex his pillows to smother him in his sleep. I mean, I might've actually made some progress with Amy, but then he came barging in before anything actually happened and where did that leave us? I'll tell you. It left us bloody well where we were before. The exact same sodding spot. If it wasn't for Scorpius fucking Malfoy I might've— "The Quigley Games are back." Huh?
"What?!" Amy exclaimed, looking more excited than the rest of us.
Scorp nodded eagerly, feeding off of her enthusiasm. "Just what I said. The Quigley Games are coming back!" Amy gasped joyfully, and began grinning like an idiot with Evan. "According to Oliver, it's to help with all the tension that's been going around Hogwarts lately, and it being the 1000th year anniversary of the House unification or whatever Rose called. Anyway, it means we get a bunch of tournaments and stuff to take up time in classes!"
Evan and Scorp started yapping about all the stuff that was going to go down this year, and Amy and I shifted closer in the back of the compartment. She tilted her head at me and gave my leg a little kick. "You alright?"
"Yeah," I sighed, managing a crooked smile.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't get it. You were just told that you're going to be watching your classmates duke it out the rest of the year for a title and a few extra coins, why aren't you more excited?"
"Dunno," I shrugged. That was a lie. I knew perfectly well why, and I'm sure she would too if she gave it a little thought. In Quidditch, school, and events like this, no matter what I did or didn't do, one thing would follow me around and hover over my shoulder: I was the bloody second son of Harry blood Potter. The Chosen One. You might think James got the better deal, but that's not true. He being the first born makes him The Chosen One Jr., having mum's good looks and charm helps. Not to mention both their Quidditch talent. He was like a god walking around among us and mum and dad always agreed with whatever he said or did. Try playing second fiddle to that and the one of the greatest wizards of the age. There's nothing I'm really good at except whining about how pathetic, and that won't get anyone far in life. So excuse me if I don't leap for joy because there's another chance for the universe to rub in my face how perfectly screwed I am.
There's an old saying in the pureblood community: have an heir and a spare. Well, guess what? I'm the spare. And it's a damn nuisance.