A/N: I really wanted to write this story, so I've chosen to ignore all logic. It's called suspended disbelief folks, and I'm shame-facedly asking you to exercise it. I will explain the lack of altered future toward the end of the story, but I won't bother to claim that it isn't going to be incredibly flawed. So, with that brief disclaimer out of the way, on with the tale!
"HOW DARE YOU! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN HURT! YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY INJURED THAT BOY! DON'T YOU THINK BEFORE YOU ACT?"
Al's mother's voice rang loudly throughout their home at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Al could only be glad that he wasn't the one currently in the path of her wrath. It was, as usual, Al's older brother James who was being reprimanded, while Al and Lily sat, somewhat bored, in the living room upstairs, not even having to struggle to make out their mother's bellowing words.
"JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME AND I TELL HIM WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"
"Yeah, cause Dad's real scary compared to Mum," Lily snorted sarcastically from beside Al.
"He is!" Al said to Lily's disbelieving stare. "What about when he does that whole 'I'm very disappointed in you' thing.
"Well, I don't see why she's so mad, anyway," Lily said, ignoring Al's comment. She didn't seem to be as bothered by their father's subtle punishment as Al was, at least compared to their mother's more forward (and loud) approach. "I mean, it's not like he did anything all that awful. All he did was curse a stinking Slytherin." She spoke the last word as though it were poison on her tongue.
"Well, the curse was pretty bad," Al said fairly. "I heard he's still in the hospital wing unconscious, and they're not letting him go home for the holidays."
"So? He's a Slytherin; he deserved it."
Al shrugged in answer. She had a point.
"Uh oh, Dad's home," Al said nervously as they heard the front door opening.
Lily rolled her eyes and pushed past Al to greet their father.
"Hi Daddy," Al heard her say cheerfully as she went out into the hall. Al followed to find Lily being scooped up into a hug.
"Lily! What are you doing home?" their father asked, trying to suppress the big smile that was stretching across his face. "And Al!" he said, "You lot weren't supposed to be home for break until tonight I thought!"
"Why don't you ask your son that question, Harry dear?" Al's Mother spat, coming up from the basement kitchen.
Harry's face paled.
"Oh, er…did James do something?" he asked awkwardly.
"Oh, nothing really," Ginny said with false lightness. "He just cursed another boy so badly they still can't wake him up."
"Really?" Harry asked curiously. "What curse was it?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. The point is…James, tell your father why you did it."
James had come up behind his mother and morphed his proud expression into one of regret as soon as she looked at him. As soon as her gaze was back off him, he resumed looking very happy with himself as he addressed his father.
"He was a Slytherin," James said as though that explained everything.
Harry's face darkened slightly. "And what did he do to you?"
"Nothing really," James answered. "It was more the fact that he was there…"
A shadow of something Al didn't recognized set over his father's face.
"And tell him what you said to the poor boy," Ginny pressed.
"I told him he's so stupid because his ancestors are all inbred and I called him a dirty Pureblood."
James was looking quite proud of himself until Ginny slapped him hard across the face.
"Hey, what was that for? You already did that! And you told me to say it again!"
"Yes, but it's still disgusting to hear something like that coming out of your mouth. And besides--"
She was getting into her stride now. Didn't James know enough not to let her do that?
"Have you forgotten that I'm a Pureblood? And your father's father was a Pureblood, making you three quarters a 'dirty Pureblood?' And that's not the point. You can't just go around making people feel like dirt because you're bored. Don't you understand that that's exactly what your father—"
"I'm very disappointed in you James," Harry cut in. He spoke very quietly, but Ginny fell silent at once.
James smirked.
"Don't do that," Harry said seriously. "This isn't something to laugh about. This isn't just another funny practical joke you've played. This was a malicious, unprovoked act of prejudice."
"Unprovoked?" James said unabashed. "Prejudice? What are you on about? Slytherins always deserve it."
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his slightly graying black hair, seeming older than Al had ever seen him look before.
"No, James, they don't," Harry said wearily. "I—Look, I just got home. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron are coming for dinner tonight with the kids, and I'd like to take a shower before they get here. We'll talk about this later, okay?"
James nodded, looking confused. Harry brushed past them and headed upstairs.
"This doesn't mean you're not going to be punished," Ginny warned severely as she followed her husband upstairs.
"How do we explain…?" they heard their mother's voice trail off as she moved further into the house.
Al, James and Lily went back into the cozy living room, James fuming as he collapsed into a comfortable armchair.
"I don't see what they're so mad about," James declared angrily. "He was a Slytherin, after all"
Lily nodded in sympathy but Al didn't answer. It wasn't that he didn't agree, but he thought maybe there was more to his parents' anger than they had yet let on. And it really had been unprovoked.
James was always more aggressive than Al. While James was loud and popular among their fellow Gryffindors, constantly pulling pranks and making his name almost as legendary as his Uncles Fred and George, and his own grandfather, Al was more quiet. He was well liked, he supposed, and he had been involved in his own amount of mischief, but he was no where near the level of James. The phrase "a thoughtful boy," had been used to describe him more times than he could count. "Just like his father," they all said, but Al had a hard time believing that. He supposed they only said that bit because of how much like his father he looked. He had seen pictures of his father at his age, fifteen, and almost had trouble believing that it wasn't his own face he was looking into. They had the same messy black hair that wouldn't lay flat, the same green eyes and glasses (three features of Harry's that Al was the only one to inherit) and they had almost identical faces.
Despite their similarities, there were some things about his father's appearance at fifteen that were very different from Al's. There was the famous lightning scar of course, but there was more. He had a more hardened look about him, and he looked much older than fifteen in all the pictures Al had seen from his dad's fifth year at Hogwarts.
Al moved toward the wall of the living room to look at the pictures that hung there in a neat line. The first was of a group called the DA, or Dumbledore's Army. Al knew this was a group his father had founded in his fifth year, right after Voldemort had come back, and while the Ministry was actively preventing the students from learning defensive magic.
Al looked proudly at the image of his fifteen year old father as the boy grinned shyly at him from the photo. Uncle Ron was standing next to him, miming throwing a curse at him, while Aunt Hermione rolled her eyes and cast affectionately annoyed looks at the boys. His mother, Ginny, was standing further back, holding hands with a boy Al knew to be called Michael Corner. Al had never met him, but he didn't like him on sight. He couldn't help but notice that the boy had messy black hair, much like his own father.
He scanned the picture for other familiar faces, and found Neville—Professor Longbottom, he reminded himself, looking very different than he did now. He was standing off to the side, a little away from the rest of the large group. He looked awkward in his slightly overweight body, his shoulders were hunched and his head bent down. He was one of the few in the picture not smiling. Al found it hard to believe that this boy had become the confident, happy man he now knew.
Luna was there too, looking serenely distracted as she waved her hands violently around her head, joyfully warding off some unseen (and likely nonexistent) predator. Probably a Wrackspurt, Al thought to himself fondly.
Uncle George and his twin Fred were there as well. They were sneaking up behind the unsuspecting Harry with mischievous grins, as though they were about to play an excellent prank, but the picture always reset just as they were about to do whatever they were going to do. Al always watched the images of his uncles, one of whom he would never meet, with growing excitement, eager to know what they were going to do, though he knew he'd never find out.
There were other people in the picture that Al knew as well: Hannah Longbottom, Dean and Parvati Thomas, and Lavender Finch-Fletchley. Lavender looked very different then than she did now. It was hard to believe that the image of this blonde beauty was the same girl as the heavily scarred woman he had met in Diagon Alley last year. She had been injured very badly in the Battle of Hogwarts when she fell from one of the towers, Al had been told. She seemed happy enough when Al met her though.
Al moved along to the next picture hanging on the wall. This picture was of the Order of the Phoenix, taken during the Christmas Holidays of Harry's fifth year. It was taken in the basement kitchen in this very same house, but the background looked entirely different. Rather than the bright cheerful kitchen Al knew, it was dark and dingy, and very depressing.
Nearly everyone in this picture was smiling, but not one of the smiles looked unforced. From what Al had heard about this picture, it was taken the day Al's grandfather had come home from St. Mungo's after having been attacked by a snake at the Ministry of Magic. Though Al's grandmother was almost twenty five years younger in this photograph, she looked almost as old as she did now. Her hair was frazzled, her face was drawn and pale, and she looked as though she hadn't slept in a long time. Al's parents and most of his Uncles were in the picture, Uncle Bill standing out particularly because of his unfamiliarly handsome face. There were others in the photo that Al had never met, but knew their names all the same. Sirius Black was there, looking moody and depressed, sitting sprawled in one of the chairs. Al knew he had died only months after this picture was taken.
Teddy's parents were standing on opposite sides of the picture: Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks Lupin. Remus looked, if possible, more tired than Grandma Weasley, but Tonks looked fairly cheerful. Her hair was bubblegum pink, and she kept changing her face to look like various animals, to the amusement of Aunt Hermione and Mum, who were standing beside her. Neither Remus nor Dora knew that they would be married in just over a year's time, have a son shortly after, and leave him an orphan just over two years after this picture was taken. Al felt sorry for these two people he never knew, almost more than he did for the others.
Mad-Eye Moody was there as well, his magical eye spinning wildly about. That was the only feature of the man that was moving as he stood looking grim and scary. This indestructible man had less than two years to live.
The doorbell rang suddenly through the quiet house, breaking Al from his thoughts.
"They're here!" Lily said excitedly, jumping up from her chair and running to answer the door. James stayed sitting in his chair, looking decidedly cool and unaffected by the arrival of his family.
Al wandered out into the hall after Lily, to find Rose and Hugo bickering while Lily hugged Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione tried to break her children apart.
"Honestly you two," she said, turning on them, "can we just have one night of peace? You've only been home for two hours!"
"Yeah, wonder where they get that from," Uncle Ron said cheerfully, walking over to Al and ruffling his hair. "I heard James got in a spot of trouble and got you all sent home early," he said to Al. "Let me guess: He turned the Potions classroom into a swamp again to get out of class."
Al grinned, but before he could answer, James came in himself.
"No, I cursed a stupid Slytherin and everyone's really mad at me about it. I don't know why though."
Hermione looked disapproving but Ron smiled. "The git deserved it at least, right?" he asked.
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, hitting her husband on the arm. "Honestly, you're just like your father."
"No, he didn't deserve it," Ginny said, coming into the room. She hugged her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece and nephew before rounding on James.
"Stop talking about it like you did something good. It was unacceptable—"
"I know, I know," James cut her off. "You've already said—"
"I haven't said half of what I'm going to say, James Sirius Potter," she hissed. "And you would do well to keep your mouth shut."
James at least knew enough to keep quiet now.
"Dinner's not quite ready," Ginny said, changing her demeanor at once as she turned back to the Weasleys. "Rose, Hugo, why don't you go into the living room with the kids. I'd like to speak with your parents."
Without another word, Ginny led Ron and Hermione into the basement kitchen, leaving the kids standing in the hallway.
"Wow, you're really in trouble," thirteen year old Hugo said as soon as his parents were out of ear shot. "I don't see why they care so much anyway. On the way over, Dad was telling us about the time their Professor turned one of the Slytherins, Scorpius Malfoy's dad, into a ferret."
"It's not funny, Hugo," Rose said over the general sniggers that met this announcement. "It was completely irresponsible, and I for one would have made sure that teacher was severely punished."
"Oh, get over yourself, Rosie," Hugo said, rolling his eyes. "You don't always have to be so uptight."
Rose looked affronted. "I am not uptight," she insisted. "And in case you've forgotten, that teacher turned out to be a Death Eater in disguise, and almost got Uncle Harry killed, and did get another boy killed."
"Well, yeah," Hugo answered, "but it was still funny. And besides, Diggory could have defended himself better. I heard he didn't even pull his wand out, but Uncle Harry, he was great. He totally blasted the Death Eaters apart before he escaped." Hugo pulled out his wand and mimicked blowing apart the wall.
"That's not funny," Al said quietly, and everyone turned to look at him. It wasn't very often that Al stood up to his cousins. He wanted to keep talking, but their stares were making him uncomfortable. "It's just…well...Dad told me about that night once, and…he doesn't really like to talk about it…but…well…I just don't think it's funny," Al finished somewhat lamely. He had been trying to tell them that it didn't seem right to talk about a dead kid like that, and that he didn't like the way his cousins and siblings talked about their parents' past as though it was a game. He didn't like how easily they talked about such terrible things that he didn't think any of them, including himself, could ever understand. He wanted to tell them about the look in his father's eyes in the picture that hung in the living room, and the look in his eyes when he spoke, as he rarely did, about his childhood, but the words just didn't come out.
"Whatever," Hugo said, "If it was me, I would have had my wand out in a second, and none of those slimy Death Eaters would have gotten away."
James and Lily laughed as Hugo continued jumping around, making noises like a gun as he pointed his wand at them all in turn, and at objects littered around the room. Even Al and Rose couldn't help but grin as Hugo tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor. He supposed it wasn't that serious, maybe. It was, after all, a long time ago.
"What are we still doing in here?" Lily said, mischievously. "We should be listening. They're probably talking about James." Lily pulled a few pairs of extendable ears from her robes and handed them out as the group moved toward the stairway that led down into the kitchen.
"It is serious, Ronald," Aunt Hermione's voice sounded through the string. "Didn't you hear what he called him? A 'dirty Pureblood!' How is that any different than calling someone a Mudblood?"
"Well, for starters, it wasn't a Muggleborn he attacked," Ron answered.
"That's not the point," Hermione cut in, but to the children's surprise, Harry interrupted her. They had expected him to be on Ron's side, as he was usually more entertained than angered by the kids' mischief.
"It's still hateful and prejudiced," he said. "It's still the same things we fought against, just the other way around. This kind of thinking won't end well. For one thing, it's ostracizing Slytherins and turning them against the other houses, and the Muggleborns and 'Blood Traitors.' They won't hesitate to join up with another Dark Lord if they're made to feel like that. For another thing, it's closed minded. Not all Slytherins are evil, remember?"
"Oh, don't even go off about Snape again," Ron said, somewhat harshly. "And I still don't think you should have put in a word for Malfoy. What did he do that was so noble he should be forgiven? Nothing!"
"That's not the point," Hermione interjected. "The point is, it's only perpetuating old ideas. Next thing you know, he'll be ordering around House Elves and—"
"Look, I'm not saying it was good that he cursed the kid," Ron cut in. "I'm just saying that things are different for kids now than they were when we were their age. They don't have as much to worry about as we did. Things like what James did don't mean as much as they did back then. These kids don't understand what it was like. They're happy. They're not constantly looking over their shoulder to make sure they're not going to be attacked. They don't draw their wands at the slightest noise, and they don't check the paper every morning to make sure no one they know has been killed. I don't think what James did was good, I just don't think it was as big of a deal as your making it. Kids will be kids, right? We should give them some leeway. Just cause we never really got to be kids doesn't mean that everything they do is—"
"What's going on here?"
Al jumped and dropped the extendable ears he was holding. His heart was pounding as he turned, relieved to find that it was only Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley standing behind them. Victoire was standing off to the side, looking slightly disinterested, while Teddy was trying without success to look stern.
"Teddy!" Lily said happily, hugging him.
"What did you do James?" Teddy asked knowingly. James just grinned.
"I didn't know you were coming to dinner!" Rose said excitedly, hugging Victoire.
"Well, we have some exciting news," Victoire answered, smiling fondly at Teddy. Teddy nodded, and Rose and Lily squealed as Victoire held out her hand to reveal a small but glittering diamond ring.
"You're engaged?" Lily squeaked, trying without success to keep her voice down.
Al smiled at his cousin and Teddy, who had become like an older brother to him, but he was distracted by Hugo, who was down on his knees, near where he had been crouching to listen to the conversation below, examining a piece of wallpaper that looked to be peeling off the wall. No one else had noticed that Hugo was missing from the round of hugs and congratulations.
"When are you getting married?" Rose asked excitedly.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" Lily squealed.
Al watched as Hugo started pulling back the loose wallpaper further. He looked confused.
"What color will our dresses be?"
"You should make Roxanne the flower girl."
"Have you told Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill yet?"
Hugo had pulled off a piece of wallpaper about the size of a sheet of parchment, and Al was about to stop him from destroying their house, when he noticed that he was whispering something, as though he was reading. He couldn't make out what he was saying.
"Where are you going to have it?"
"Grandma's going to—"
All at once the torches went out in the room, a fierce wind picked up inside the house, knocking the pictures off the wall, and all of the doors leading off of the hallway slammed shut. A high pitched squealing began and Al found himself spinning through a blur of colors. He felt something grab his arm and tried to pull away before he realized it was Teddy, looking terrified.
All at once, everything stopped, and Al collapsed to the ground, dizzy and feeling as though he had been run over by the Knight Bus.
"Everyone okay?" Teddy asked with a hoarse voice from beside him on the floor.
Before anyone could answer, a unfamiliar high pitched screaming began, and Al tried to cover his ears, but he could still hear it clearly.
"Filth! Scum! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers! By-products of--"
Before Al could find the source of the screaming, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he was engulfed by darkness, ignorant to the chaos erupting around him.