You say you want to move on and
You say I'm falling behind
Can you read my mind?

The Killers – Read my Mind

Albus doesn't sleep well that night. He lies awake for hours, thinking of the events of that day. Of how nervous Scorpius had been about going into the pub. Of how he'd been too afraid to sit near Mulciber and his friends. Of how he'd relaxed and talked and smiled once Albus had made him forget to worry about them. Of how he'd submissively apologised when Mulciber told him to.

It makes him furious, that Scorpius should feel that he has to bow down to a bully and a coward such as Mulciber. It isn't right, Albus knows, but he knows just as well that there is nothing he can do about it. It's Scorpius's battle; he can't help unless the blond boy asks for it. It's how these things work.

There's also the curious question of why Scorpius had been standing out in the cold in the first place. Had he been too afraid to go inside in case he ran into Mulciber and his cronies? Or had he been waiting for someone - perhaps a boy – who'd stood him up? Albus doesn't really like either of those answers for some inexplicable reason, and he makes a solid attempt to put the matter from his mind. He reads a book; he begins a Charms essay; he lies staring at his canopy well into the early hours of the morning, still awake while the rest of his dormmates snore.

'Didn't you hear them?' Scorpius's voice keeps saying in his mind, over and over again. 'I'm a faggot.'

As much as he tries, he can't forget the words, but even harder to block out is the tone. The small sneer in his voice. The anger, the hatred and the self-loathing.

Albus just wishes he could do something about it.

But he can't think of anything. He's all too aware that any action he might take and any help he might offer would probably just make the situation worse. All he can do was lie there and hope something will come to him.

He doesn't remember nodding off, but he must have because the next thing he knows, someone is pulling back the curtains around his four-poster, allowing the light stream onto his bed. "Hurry up, Albus!" Evan's familiar voice calls. "You'll miss breakfast if you don't get up now. And I'm not waiting for you!"

Albus rolls over with a grumble. Under normal circumstances, he dislikes rushing and he dislikes being late, meaning all his actions are carried out in a prim and proper fashion. Albus is accustomed to getting up with plenty of time to organise himself in a non-stressful, relaxed way – unlike every other boy in his dorm who sleeps until the last minute and shows up to their first class still doing up their ties.

This morning, however, he can't seem to bring himself to open his eyes. He knows it's because he's only had a few hours of sleep, but the knowledge it doesn't make it any easier to get up. Finally Evan comes to his aid by stealing his covers and turning his mattress into sharp stones so that Albus has no choice but to vacate his bed. "I thought you were going to leave," he grumbles.

"No man gets left behind," Evan says jovially, clapping the frowning Albus on the back.

"Where's everyone else, then?" Albus asks pointedly, grabbing his watch and tie. He'll put them on as they make their way downstairs; they're already late enough.

"Well, they left," Evan admits. "But you've done me a few favours over the years."

"So you thought you'd repay me by making me cold, bruised, and tired?"

Evan peers at Albus in a concerned fashion. He's a tall, dark-skinned boy with curly hair and deep brown eyes that peer through thick glasses. He has a nerdy look more typically suited to Ravenclaw and a studious nature to match; he's currently competing with Rose for top of the class. But he can wallop a Bludger like no other and has a fierce, uncompromising loyalty that had landed him alongside Albus in detention in their first week of school for punching Roger Flint in the face when the Slytherin had made jibes about Albus's family.

"Are you alright, mate?" he asks. "It's not like you to be so grumpy in the mornings – or so late getting out of bed, come to think of it."

Albus tries to put his bad temper aside and attempts a smile. It comes out as more of a grimace. "I'm fine," he tells Evan. "I just didn't sleep well."

"I believe you. You look awful," Evan adds unhelpfully.

"Thanks," Albus says, making an effort not to snap (although not really succeeding). "I love getting compliments like that."

Wisely, Evan shuts up after that.

Scorpius isn't at the Ravenclaw table when Albus reaches the breakfast table, sinking into the seat next to Graham Lineside, another one of his dormmates. "Good morning, Slumber Pumpkin," he says cheerfully, taking a great amount of sadistic pleasure from the sluggish manner in which Albus tiredly butters his toast. "Good to see you're finally up."

Evan sinks into the seat on the other side of Graham and elbows him in the ribs. "Leave off, Grey," he says, reaching for the cereal. "It's not like you've never been late getting up."

"I know," Grey said airily. "But Mr Morning Sunshine over there always takes pleasure in being happier and more awake than we are in the mornings, so I thought it was time to return the favour."

"If I were you I'd focus on doing some last minute revising," Rose interjects from across the table. Albus looked at his cousin to see that she isn't even looking at Grey, so fixed was her gaze on the text book in front of her. "We've got a Defence Against the Dark Arts test first period."

"Eh, should be easy," Grey says breezily, taking the time to throw a cornflake at Rose. It lands directly on her book and she brushes it off, annoyed. "It's just spellwork. It's not like it's a written test or anything."

"You failed the last one," Evan reminds him as Grey throws another cornflake. This time, Rose looks up and glares.

"That was in Charms," Grey says, taking careful aim. This time, when he throws the offending cereal, Rose catches it in one hand.

"Stop it, Graham," she says, annoyed. "Just because some of us want to pass-"

"You'll pass whether you study or not," Grey says. "And if you want to read books at breakfast without me bothering you then you should be sitting at your own table."

Rose looks stricken at the suggestion. "I can't," she says.

"Why not?" Grey and Evan ask simultaneously.

Rose looks over her shoulder and bites her lip. "It's complicated," she says.

"While you Ravenclaws may look down on us mere Gryffindors as unintelligent beasts fit only to work in the fields," Evan says, "I assure you that we will do our best to keep up."

Rose smiles at his excessively-eloquent manner. "Alright then," she relents. "You know Troy Robinson?"

"Seventh year, Ravenclaw, good at Potions, bit of a dick," Grey says instantly. Rose's lips twitch again. "Yep, we're familiar with him. We've only been in half his classes for seven years."

"Yeah, well," Rose says, "I've received a tip off from Mary who heard from Shannon who got told by Venus who was talking to Andy about him that he likes me."

Three pairs of eyes blinked back at her, including Albus's. Despite himself, he'd been drawn into the conversation. "I'm not sure I quite followed the chain of people," Evan says blankly.

"Doesn't matter," Rose says. "The point is that I've heard that he's going to ask me out. So now I'm at the Gryffindor table."

"You were right," Evan says. "I don't follow at all."

Rose sighs as though she was explaining something quite simple to a very young child. "He's going to ask me out, but I don't like him, which means that I have to say no, but if I do then I might hurt his feelings. And remember when he was dating Alexis last year and they broke up?"

"No," Albus, Grey and Evan say at the same time.

"Really?" Rose asks, surprised. "How'd you miss that? It was all over the school?"

"We have important things to talk about," Grey retorts. "Like Quidditch."

"Right. Well, let's just say he didn't take it well and things got really nasty between them. And only a few months before, Josie ended up in the hospital wing from a mysterious "prank" only a few days after she turned him down."

"That does sound like something Troy would do," Evan admits. "He punched that Slytherin when they lost the Cup last year."

"You can handle yourself, though, Rosie," Grey points out. "And if you're struggling, we'd be happy to lend a wand." He smirks a particularly wolf-like smirk; his bias against Troy was well known. Once he'd landed Grey in detention when he was trying to avoid getting into trouble for something he'd done. While it probably hadn't been intentional, Grey had taken a dislike to the boy, and he made it plain that if the opportunity arose for him to cause Troy discomfort without going out of his way, then by all means he'd grasp that opportunity with both hands.

"Thanks," Rose says. "But honestly, it's best if I do it this way. While I'm sure I could take him if he tried to hex me, a lot of my friends are also friends with him, so it's easier if I just avoid him for a while. He'll forget about me eventually."

Grey opens his mouth to say something but then closes it again. Even Albus, in his non-functioning state, notices, and gives his friend a strange look.

"We'd better head to class," Evan says. "Elsewise we'll be late."

"Oh no!" Rose exclaims, leaping up. "I spent all that time talking when I should have been reading."

"Relax," Graham tells her, slinging his bag across his shoulder. "You'll breeze through it."

Reluctantly Rose slides her book back into her bag. "Oh, that reminds me," she says as the four of them exited the Hall. "You got a letter while you were still in bed." She fishes into her bag for it and pulls out a crumpled envelope.

Albus takes it. "Why do you have it?" he asks, confused. Usually if Mace, his parents owl, couldn't find him at breakfast, he flew up to the dorms or waited in the owlery until he went outside.

"It's from Uncle Percy," Rose replies. "I think poor old Hermes got a little confused and thought it was for me."

"Blimey, is Hermes still alive?" Albus asks. "I thought he would have corked it by now. Why didn't he send Fishie?" Fishie is Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey's other owl, the one they'd bought when it had become clear that Hermes was beginning to get a bit past long journeys. Lucy, still a young child at the time, had got the honour of naming her, and she was adamant that "Fishie" was the perfect name for their new owl.

"Must be on another delivery," Rose says, shrugging. They reach the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and Albus quickly shoves the letter into his school bag without opening it. "Hey, Rose," he says as they traipse into the classroom. "What do you know about Scorpius Malfoy?"

If she is surprised by the question, she doesn't show it. "Not a lot," she admits. "He's in my house, but he keeps to himself mostly. He's quiet, I suppose, or shy. I know more about his father from the stories Dad's told me."

Albus had thought that would be the case; he's heard exactly the same stories from his own parents. "So you don't speak to him then?" he asks as they take their seats.

Rose shakes her head. "I know he has an owl, and that he doesn't spend much time in the common room," she says. "He doesn't seem to have many friends. And I hear the rumours."

"What rumours?" Albus asks sharply. But before Rose can reply, Professor Longhorn strides into the room and the class falls silent.

Tiredness hits him suddenly and he rests his head on his arms. 'This is going to be a long day', he thinks to himself.


As the four of them make their way from Charms, Albus glances behind him to see Scorpius walking by himself. "I'll catch you up," he mutters to his friends as he drops back beside the blond.

"Hey," he says, striving for casualness.

Scorpius looks surprised. "What do you want?" he asks. His tone is more startled than rude, and Albus frowns.

"Well we're heading to the same class. I thought I'd walk with you."

"Why?" Scorpius demands.

That catches Albus off-guard. "I don't know," he says. "I thought… yesterday…"

"We're not friends, Potter. Don't pretend that we are."

Albus, his temper already short from lack of sleep, feels a flicker of annoyance. "There's no need to be so rude, you know," he informs the blond. "If you're still mad about me making Mulciber apologise to you yesterday, then I'm sorry, but I wasn't just going to stand there."

Scorpius looks at Albus with an unreadable expression. "You don't understand anything, do you?" he asks Albus. Albus is startled by the question but, before he can reply, Scorpius continues. "I don't need your pity, and I certainly don't need your help. Just leave me alone." And with that he pushes ahead through the crowd, leaving Albus standing there with a look of hurt surprise on his face.


Dear Albus,

Your uncle is still making inquiries at the Ministry about available positions in the Experimental Charms departments but don't you worry about that. I'll have a few words to him over the next few months and he'll come to see that perhaps the Ministry isn't the best place for you to start your career. I've remembered what you told me over the summer and I've begun making enquiries with some of my friends overseas. A lot of overseas Ministries have completely different set ups, and even outside of the Ministries there are plenty of jobs in your specialist field. If Uncle Percy sends you an owl, just write back to him saying that you want to keep your options open.

I've had to send this on Hermes because I'm using Fishie to send letters to my correspondents in other countries. Please take care of him; I'm not convinced he's up to the journey. Give Lucy and Molly my love.

With Love,

Aunt Audrey.