~*Chapter 2*~

The I.H.C.E.

"Wow, Molly was right," Felicia marveled as she reached out to scratch under Trinity's chin. "She's behaving so well."

Al felt a grin tug at his mouth. When he'd seen a few other students file into the hall with rats and cats, he'd decided to risk letting Trinity sit with him. He felt bad he'd had to confine her so long, and anyway, at least if she panicked and got loose during dinner, there would be plenty of people there to help catch her again.

But she'd perched herself quite calmly on his lap and remained still and silent while the trembling first years were Sorted. As Felicia cooed over her now, she arched her head back appreciatively to provide easier access to her chin, and flicked Al what looked like a suspiciously smug look. As if she was saying See, my manners are impeccable.

The black boy seated across from them stood up just slightly to get a better look at Trinity. "Wow, Albus, a cat, huh? More interesting than James's bad-tempered owl, definitely."

Al laughed quietly. The boy was one of James's friends, Vincent Samson. He'd visited the Potter home once during the summer with some of James's friends to pick him up for a trip to the city. He was funny and cool, and had been friendlier to Al and Lily than James's other friends, who didn't want to be seen talking to "little kids".

Unable to snag a seat by James for dinner, he'd squeezed in across from Al and his friends unselfconsciously. A lot of third years were too proud of being third years to want to be caught with the younger students, but Vincent at least didn't seem to care.

"Maybe Molly is right," Felicia had murmured, "and boys start losing brain cells when they turn thirteen."

Neither Al nor Andrew had talked to her for the next several minutes, though Trinity had started purring.

Traitor.

"She might be a little less polite when turkey shows up on your plate," Vincent pointed out with a teasing grin, indicating the cat with a jerk of his chin.

Al grinned back. He liked Vincent, and it would be nice to have another friend that was a boy. Plus, being friends with an older student who was at least somewhat popular would be pretty cool. Being the little brother of someone popular just wasn't the same.

The first years had all settled into their seats at their new Houses, and Professor Shacklebolt was coming forward to make his beginning of term announcement. Everyone immediately focused on him, eager to hear if he'd say anything about the strange competition he'd hinted at the previous year.

A faint smile hovered briefly on the Headmaster's lips, as if he knew the reason for such undivided attention, but instead he began with the usual basic information: informing the first years of the school rules and forbidden areas, reminding third years of their new electives, and encouraging the older students to study hard for their upcoming OWLs and NEWTs. He mentioned the time and date for Quidditch tryouts- Andrew jostled Al meaningfully with his elbow –and congratulated the year's new Prefects.

At last he took a long sip from his glass of water and fixed everyone with a knowing look. "This year we have provided a special treat for you all. You may remember that last year I mentioned how it would behoove the Houses if they could learn to cooperate and repair relations through friendly competition." Everyone sat up a little straighter and began paying fierce attention. "This year we will host the first ever Hogwarts annual Inter-House Cooperation Events." He paused. "Name pending," he added dryly.

Al exchanged a quick, excited look with Andrew and Felicia.

"These Events will consist of trials that teams of four must complete by bringing to bear all their skill and guile. Because of this, first years are exempt, because they are still learning the basics of magic." There were a few groans and protests at this- especially from those first years who had older siblings and had become curious about the Events over the summer. Shacklebolt ignored them, continuing in his deep voice. "Fifth and seventh year students are strictly volunteer only; you will possibly be sacrificing valuable study time for your OWLs and NEWTs, so I encourage you not to join the Events unless you absolutely feel you must."

"It's sort of like the Triwizard Tournament, isn't it?" Vincent murmured. "I heard stories from my uncle about when it was hosted here at Hogwarts. It was supposed to be pretty dangerous. One guy died, right?"

"I don't think the Headmaster would have something that dangerous," Al said slowly. "Especially not for something that's supposed to make us all buddy-buddy with each other."

"Good luck with that," Andrew scoffed, shooting a narrow glance towards the Slytherin table.

"For those of you who are absolutely not interested in participating, provide either a Prefect or your Head of House with your name," Shacklebolt was saying. "For the rest of you, I urge you to do your best in classes this year, because the staff will be observing you all throughout the first half of the year, to determine who may be matched well together or who shows potential for doing well in the Events. After Christmas Break, I will provide more information and the games will begin. But for now..." He clapped his hands, and the tables filled with food. "Eat! Welcome back to Hogwarts!"

Al, who hadn't realized how loudly his stomach was grumbling, began loading his plate eagerly. "I think I wanna do it. The Events."

"I'm not sure," Felicia admitted, reaching for the pumpkin juice. "I mean, there's a reason why first years can't participate. We're not much more talented than they are."

"Says who?" Andrew demanded, fighting Al for possession of the gravy boat. "I mean, look at Al! He did great in Charms last year. And we'll have plenty of time to learn loads more this year before Christmas."

Al gave up the gravy as a lost cause and stretched for the honeyed biscuits. Vincent helpfully offered him one. "I'd do it," the older boy said firmly. "Though I'm not sure I'd trust a Slytherin on my team."

"Slytherin?" Felicia repeated in surprise.

Vincent shrugged, nudging the cranberries towards Al once he'd finished scooping up a portion for himself. Al fumbled with the bowl self-consciously. "These games or events or whatever are supposed to help the Houses get along, right? So it makes sense that..."

"He'll put us on teams together," Al blurted. He exchanged startled looks with Felicia and Andrew, feeling foolish for not having realized it earlier. "The teams will be from mixed Houses."

"He did say teams of four," Felicia said with a look of dread.

"Oh, that will go well," Andrew said sarcastically, cutting up his lamb chop with unnecessary force. "Can you imagine me and Sam Hawley on the same team?" He shot a glare towards the Slytherins. "I wouldn't put it past him to risk losing just to make a fool out of me. Or make sure I got hurt."

"You heard the Headmaster," Felicia said. "The Professors are going to try and determine who might work well together."

"Fat chance."

Al slipped Trinity a piece of turkey and didn't say anything. He couldn't really imagine getting stuck on a team with Slytherin, either. Not after last year. Though... he and Scorpius had learned to keep a wary truce in Potions, at least. Maybe they'd do all right together. Even if Scorpius didn't like it, he couldn't see the other boy sabotaging an Event just to let him take a fall.

"I wonder if we'll be grouped by year," Felicia said, stirring everything on her plate together- a process that Vincent watched with a look of faint disgust. "But that would be... what, six teams of four, I guess? That's a lot of teams."

"It'd make more sense to mix them up," Vincent said, averting his eyes from the mess on her plate. "A group of only second years wouldn't really stand a chance against the older kids." He flashed Al a quick grin. "No offense."

Al found himself returning the grin again. Vincent's smile was infectious and borderline mischievous. It was no wonder he was friends with James.

"Well, no use wondering and guessing about it now," Andrew decided, cramming potatoes in his mouth as fast as he could. "Don't have to worry about it 'til after Christmas. It's Quidditch we should focus on now." He looked pointedly at Al. "I still think you should go for it."

"So you've said," Al grumbled. "More than once."

Vincent looked at him in interest. "Oh, you're thinking of playing this year? Great! Could always use another Potter on the field."

Al looked at him in surprise. "Were you on the team last year?"

"Nah, didn't quite make the cut. I was just a substitute Chaser; never got called in. But the Captain told me to try again this year, so I'm gonna. You should come to tryouts with us. Your brother and cousins will be going, too."

Al squirmed, feeling put on the spot. "I'll think about it," he muttered, slipping Trinity another bit of turkey. She ate it in small, polite bites, and sat ramrod straight in his lap, awaiting more.

As everyone was finishing up their dinner sometime later, the Headmaster requested that third years stay behind so they could get their class schedules with the new electives. Vincent said a cheery farewell and moved to sit with James and Fred when some of the students in that area got up to leave. Al watched him go. Vincent was definitely chummy enough; maybe Al had made a new friend after all. Not that it mattered, probably. They were a year apart, and Vincent would be more likely to seek out James's company than hang around a group of second years.

"He's a nice bloke," Andrew said, as if he'd read Al's thoughts.

"He's really cute," Felicia agreed, then flushed and turned her attention on her leftovers when Al and Andrew turned to stare at her.

"Girls," Andrew muttered heavily, shaking his head at Al in disgust.


The next morning, Felicia, Andrew, and Al headed for Potions with heavy hearts.

"Remember how mean he got after all that mess with that stupid fifth House last year?" Andrew grumbled. "Wanna bet he's just as cranky this year?"

"The Headmaster is being pretty pushy about this whole cooperation thing," Felicia soothed. "Maybe he'll at least make an effort to be more... fair."

"He was fair at the beginning of last year, too," Al pointed out sourly. "But he was still a wart."

"Maybe he'll at least assign us with different partners this time," Felicia said with faint hope.

Her hopes were, it turned out, for nothing.

Professor Zabini seemed just as impatient and snide as they remembered him. The moment he realized students were stealthily trying to sit with friends, he moved around the room, tapping random students sharply on the shoulder to get them to rise from their self-appointed seats. "You will all be sitting with last year's partners," he announced. "The same rules apply. You may assist each other with your assignments, but there will be no talking to other students. Now move."

Sighing, Al collected his books, sent Felicia an apologetic look, and reluctantly made his way over to where Scorpius had claimed a seat near the back. At least they wouldn't be sitting so close to Zabini's desk this time.

He dumped his bag and books on the desk and slumped in his chair, shooting Scorpius an uncertain look. He was tempted to just remain silent after his earlier attempt at friendliness had been rebuffed, but the stark truth was that he may never have passed Potions his first year without Scorpius's help. Besides, if the teachers really were keeping an eye out for decent inter-House relations, he'd like to up his chances of getting paired with Scorpius in the Events rather than a much nastier Slytherin.

"You never did tell me how your summer was," he said.

Scorpius flicked him a sideways look and an impatient frown. "Potter, we are not friends."

"Yeah, you've made that pretty clear," Al said, feeling stung almost despite himself. "It's called being polite, Scorpius. Try it. Besides, we're stuck with each other all year in this class again, and we're going to have to help each other out. That'll be kind of hard to do if you won't even talk to me."

"We can talk about potion-making," Scorpius said, attention on his book as he flipped to the page indicated on the board. "My personal life is none of your business, Potter."

Al had to grit his teeth to hold back a sharp retort. He opened his book huffily and found the right page.

With Al's annoyance at his partner's unfriendliness, and Scorpius's cold determination to not give him the wrong idea by talking any more than necessary, neither of them ended up with a Potion that met with Zabini's critical expectations.

"At least he insinuated we were both idiots," he said later to Felicia. "Looks like he's back to hating everyone equally after all."

"I told you," Andrew said with a touch of self-righteousness. "Scorpius isn't worth your time, Al. He's a stuck-up snotty troll. The more you try to be nice to him, the meaner he'll get. You'll see."

Al sighed inwardly and decided to change the subject.