Author's Note: The opening chapter for my new fanfic! It's substantially shorter than my previous ones, being only about 20,000 words that I'll put up in eleven chapters. I plan on putting up a chapter a week, so be looking for them.
~ThaniMag
Chapter 1: Loneliness
The apartment was dark and still, no living figure to be seen within its confines. It was not your average house, for to the casual observer no way in or out would be visible. Other than that, however, it could have been your home, or your friend Joey's.
One side of the living room was a blank wall, adorned by no ornaments whatsoever. It was in this wall that a door suddenly materialized from nowhere. It swung open soundlessly, revealing a busy street on which traffic rushed back and forth.
Soft footsteps could be heard crossing the threshold, though no one could be seen. The door swung shut with a soft click. The bodiless footsteps then moved across the carpet to a glass coffee table that stood in front of a leather couch, as the door in the wall proceeded to vanish as abruptly as it had appeared.
And suddenly a young man in his early twenties was there. In his right hand he held a rolled up piece of worn and tattered leather—an old hat of some sort. In his left hand he held a cloak made of a soft and shimmering silver material.
With a sigh the man tossed the hat onto the table, but he let the cloak simply fall from his hand to the floor without a sound. He then pulled his hand up and released his chin-length, unmanageable black hair from its short ponytail.
Rubbing his face wearily, the man let himself collapse onto the leather couch. His brilliant green eyes flashed briefly behind his half-hooded eyelids and an expression of concentration flitted across his features. There was a soft wooshing sound, and it was as if the whole apartment went flying through space. It was over in less than a minute. Now soft moonlight streamed in through the two windows that adorned two of the walls, where previously there had only been the lights of a city. The buzz of traffic was replaced with that of the wind.
On the couch, Albus Severus Potter had already fallen asleep.
. . . . . .
The scarlet train weaved through the green countryside, the clouded sky was spread like an expansive heavy blanket, its gullet open, pouring rain down.
An eleven year-old Albus slipped from where he had been sitting with his cousin Rose, a rather chubby boy who had introduced himself as Trikey, and a blonde girl whose name was Emma. He padded down the long corridor, looking through into each new compartment as he came to it, looking for one person in particular, and wondering if he was making the right decision.
At last, he found what he had been looking for. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door to the compartment open and stepped inside. The three boys and girl within looked up expectantly, but Albus' eyes were fixed on one boy in particular, a young wizard with blonde hair and unreadable, stormy gray eyes.
Albus proffered his hand out to the boy. "Hallo, my name is Albus Potter. I was wondering if we could be friends?"
The boy's eyes narrowed. "I know who you are, Potter. I've grown up hearing you and your father's name. Everyone has been wondering if you'll live up to expectations."
Albus shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I didn't get to choose my father, Scorpius."
"Don't call me that," said Scorpius. "Only friends call each other by their first name."
"Why can't we be friends?"
"I didn't say we couldn't be, I'm just saying we aren't yet. If you want to be my friend, Potter, you have to show that you're a friend someone would want."
Albus flushed slightly. "I'll show you. Believe."
A grin flashed across Scorpius' face. "Great."
Without another word. Albus turned and left the compartment.
The dream went fuzzy, swirled about. The image of the train faded, and gradually another took its place.
Albus, still eleven, hurried down the abandoned corridor, rushing to get to his next class, knowing he was going to be in big trouble for being late. Turning a corner on the second floor, he froze, noises from behind a half-closed door catching his attention.
He inched towards the door, despite a little voice inside him reminding him what was waiting for him if he didn't get to class in the next five minutes.
He peered through the little space in the door and saw what appeared to be an abandoned classroom. However, he knew someone was there, for he could hear voices.
"So, what do you say now, Malfoy?" came a voice, sneering and cold.
"I say to hell with you." Scorpius' voice was strained, full of suppressed pain.
"Are you sure about that, Malfoy?" There was a thud, and a muffled grunt of pain, followed quickly by another. "I promise you, there is plenty more from where that came from."
Albus was sweating now, despite the fact that his body had gone cold all over. What should he do? There might not be time to go get a teacher, and yet what could he do to intervene? He was only a first-year, and he was pretty sure the tormentor was the third-year, Mitchell Blackwell. What could a small kid like him do to help out Scorpius in a fix as big as this?
"You can hit me all day," spat Scorpius. "It's not like I can feel those soft fists of yours."
"Yeah? Well how about some of this?" A volley of thuds could now be heard, raining down sharp and fast. Scorpius' groans rose in volume, and then he suddenly let out a sharp yell of pain.
That was it. Albus could clearly wait no longer. He pushed through the door and charged across the room.
Blackwell's back was to Albus, and he was bent over Scorpius, who lay on the ground, curled up on himself.
Blackwell seemed intent on his business, and did not hear Albus coming after him.
The smaller boy hurtled into Blackwell, sending him staggering over Scorpius. Blackwell tripped and fell hard to the ground, Albus on top and punching the third-year as hard as he could manage.
Scorpius lost not a moment in surprise, but was already on his feet and kicking Blackwell viciously in the side with all the strength he could muster.
Now it was Blackwell's turn to groan in pain. But he pushed himself off the ground hard, sending Albus toppling from his back. He gave Scorpius a hard shove, sending him to the floor.
"You better watch your back, Malfoy," said Blackwell, who then turned and ran from the room.
Albus and Scorpius both got slowly to their feet. "You didn't need to do that," said Scorpius. "I would have been fine."
"I know," said Albus, and Scorpius shot him a quick look, his gray eyes masked, hiding what he was thinking.
They both stood there for a couple of minutes, neither saying anything. It was Scorpius who finally broke the silence. "Are you saying you aren't going to ask me what he wanted?"
Albus shrugged. "It's none of my business. If you don't want to tell me, that's that." Again, there was nothing to be seen in Scorpius' eyes that would give away what he was thinking.
"Good," said Scorpius. And with that he gathered up his book-bag and started to leave the classroom. In the doorway, he turned and looked back. "I'll see you around, Albus." Then he was gone.
. . . . . .
Albus woke from his dream, groggy, at first not sure where he was. He sat up, looking around and taking his surroundings. Then he remembered himself, and slowly rose to his feet and padded over to the fridge in the kitchen that joined on with the living room. Unfortunately, the fridge's only contents hadn't changed from the last time he had taken stock—a couple of bottles of wine, a hunk of moldy cheese, two eggs, and a can of tuna. Albus didn't like tuna. He took out the eggs, fried them, filled a glass with water from the sink and went back to the sofa and coffee table.
Late morning light poured in through the windows, slanting across what little furniture there was in the living room (the only other piece besides the coffee table and couch was an ugly looking orange armchair) and setting sparks from the silver material of the Invisibility Cloak, where it lay on the ground.
After he finished his meager breakfast, Albus left the dishes on the table, and went over to the blank wall. The door came at his summons, and Albus walked out into the morning.
He was out in the English countryside. A fairly desolate part of the English countryside at that. Nothing but flat grasslands spread out in all directions, with a small hill here and there. A small lake, not much more than a pond, lay not ten yards from the door of the apartment, which was the only marking of mankind that could be seen. The wind was vicious with almost nothing to break its path, tearing at Albus' clothes and threatening to pull him off his feet.
Albus looked out in all directions, feeling the oppression and the loneliness brought on by the sheer expanse of nothingness, and the utter silence in exception of the wind. Gritting his teeth, a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek.
He quickly stripped down to nothing, and dove into the icy water of the lake, letting the chill that froze his bones remind him that he was alive.
Of course, he didn't last long. Running back out he hastily put his clothes back on, not bothering to dry off first. Shaking his head back and forth like a dog in order to get rid of excess water from his long hair, he went back into the apartment.
He lay down on the leather couch, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling, as if waiting for something.
He hadn't moved when twenty minutes later a sharp clacking cut through the air. Albus leapt to his feet on top of the leather couch, sliding the window open to let in the huge snowy owl that had landed outside, a newspaper in his beak.
The owl landed upon the coffee table, his claws scratching up the surface.
"Be careful, Archimedes. You're damaging the table." Despite his chiding, Albus did nothing to get the owl to actually move, but simply took the newspaper from him.
Leaning back into the couch to get comfortable, Albus opened up the paper, searching. What for, who could tell? One thing was for sure, he skipped right over the story on the front page that was focused on a break-in at Hogwarts.
Albus studiously worked through the paper, finishing with the English news and stories and moving onto the international section.
Archimedes sat where he had landed on the table, looking at Albus in irritation. Eventually, he got Albus' attention by biting his leg impatiently.
"Ow. Right, sorry, Archimedes. Just a second." Albus went over to the fridge and pulled out the can of tuna. Popping the top off, he set it in front of the owl, not sure if owls liked or even ate tuna, but having nothing better to offer. Archimedes, in any case, seemed to have nothing against it and dug right in. Albus stroked his head fondly before returning to the paper.
Archimedes had finished his meal and flown off to his cage, which stood in a corner of the room, to take a nap by the time Albus had finished with the newspaper.
Albus threw the paper on the table in resignation, and looked over at Archimedes who peeked an eye out from beneath a feathered wing to lock eyes with him. "Nothing seems to be in there, Archimedes. Nothing except a story about some famous Muggle who seems to have committed suicide in London, and another about a dead vampire lord in Germany. Useless."
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Look for more next week. The moving house is from Cassandra Clare's City of Lost Souls, and the line "Believe" is from Attack the Block, perhaps one of the awesomest movies ever. Please review!