Chapter Two: Albus: The Reaction

I was so confused.

I mean, there I was, sitting in the Room of the Requirement, and the couch disappeared. Obviously, I fell to the floor – in extreme pain, let me tell you! My buttocks would never be the same! Then, the entire room shrunk and cleaning supplies appeared out of nowhere. Only a few seconds later, this crazy chick barged in here, cried, screamed at me, laughed hysterically, kicked me in the shin, had a panic attack and informed me that the Ministry passed a law that chucks Death Eaters in jail.

Oh, and then I offered to marry her.

What was I thinking? Had I gone mental? I can't marry Goyle just so her family is safe. I can't just give up my entire future for her. I barely knew her.

But I have to admit, it takes a genius to come up with this sort of plan. My dad is Harry-bloody-Potter. Her family would be safe for centuries – the Ministry won't know what hit 'em.

I was having a hard time keeping myself in reality, however. My dad would never let me do something like this! Even if it was to save an entire family, he would go straight to the Ministry – but that would take years.

But Goyle began laughing hysterically again, so I perhaps I didn't have to worry about that.

Merlin, she was so emotional.

"You – want – to – what?" she spit out between giggles, doubling over and clutching her knees. I felt a flicker of irritation, but shrugged it off.

"We could get divorced right after," I suggested brightly, having just come up with the solution. Man, I was brilliant. That could work – we would just have to wait until the whole thing blew over and then we never have to see each other again!

"Why would you do that for me?" she asked, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks.

"I'm a good person," I answered smoothly, glancing at the dark corners of the cupboard and leaning back. She didn't look convinced.

Okay, so there was another motive Goyle doesn't know about. If I had a wife, then my ex-girlfriend wouldn't bother me anymore. To clarify, my ex is the epitome of insanity. She was the first girl I dated back in fifth year, and because of her, she was also the last.

She scared the living daylights after me. Even after the breakup, she stalked me, sniffed me, occasionally jumped me, stole my stuff, scared off other girls I've attempted to date and generally acted disturbing. That's Holly Birch, the daughter of the freaking Minister of Magic – and the reason my love life is non-existent.

A wife would drive her off. Right?

Right. Don't question me. Didn't you hear what my last name is?

"Do you think we have any other options?" she asked, stalling. "I mean, the law doesn't say we have to get married. Maybe we can do something else."

"Like what?"

We fell silent.

Well.

"Umm... we could... I don't know," she said helplessly, throwing her arms in the air.

"Me neither," I admitted.

"Why would you ever marry a nutter like me?" she continued. I flinched at that. Is that what this is about? She's hot. Why not temporarily marry her?

(I had a feeling that if I told her about my crazy ex-girlfriend, her evil Slytherin side would come out. I was in no mood to be shouted at again.)

"You're not a nutter," I reasoned with her, and she snorted.

Ah, well, I gave it my best shot. I couldn't convince her of something that was partially true, right?

I switched routes. "Okay, I know this will help your family. Nobody deserves to die for something they haven't done."

Boy, I hope that sounded as good as it sounded in my head.

She ran a hand through her hair, her smile fading slowly. "I can't do that to you, or your family. That would be using you. I'd never be able to make it up to you." I had the feeling she didn't lie much.

"What kind of Slytherin are you?" I asked, grinning at her suddenly guilty expression. "You're supposed to be manipulative. Did you miss the memo?" I didn't think it was possible to for her to laugh more, but she did.

"When the time comes, you'll know exactly why I was Sorted into Slytherin," she told me, smirking all the while. I smirked back.

"Glad to hear it." I watched her smile fade as she sunk into thought. I waited patiently, flipping open my book again.

"You're serious about this?"

"Yep."

"You're actually offering marriage to save my life?"

"And divorce."

"You're offering to waste all that money?"

"We have too much money anyway." She paused, struggling to comprehend. I turned a page.

"We barely know each other."

"Yep."

"And our parents…?"

"They'll think we're in love." I shut my book and looked back to her. She looked uneasy and unwilling.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? Once we've told them, we're not backing out. It's all or nothing." I shrugged. I guessed she forgot that I was the one who suggested this.

"I'm absolutely sure, yes. It's just marriage," I lied easily, avoiding her eyes as I spoke. She snorted and put her head in her hands, taking a deep breath before going on.

"I guess I'll do it."

Wow. She actually agreed.

"Brilliant," I muttered, slipping the Marauder's Map out of my book. "C'mere, we have to sneak back to my Dormitory without anyone noticing." I opened the Map in front of Goyle's questioning eyes, which widened as I inspected the seventh floor corridor.

"Where did you get this?" she asked in a hushed tone, looking over my shoulder.

"Family heirloom," I said, tapping the Map with my wand and stuffing it back in the book. "C'mon, we have to be back. I just need my Invisibility Cloak before we go to Hogsmeade."

Dormitory, Hogsmeade, home – should've been easy enough.

"I – you – what?" she panicked as I opened the door and strode out. Seconds later, she caught up to me, whispering hurriedly in my ear. "We don't have a plan, Potter!" I laughed as we reached the Fat Lady. I scrambled inside upon telling her the password.

"Of course I do," I said matter-of-factly, sprinting up the steps to the Boy's Dormitory and searching through my things. "Do you need anything important from your Dorm? They house elves will probably just put everything else on the train."

"No," she said quickly, tripping on the sock-and-underwear pile my roommates had made the night before, "but I –"

"Got it!" I yelled triumphantly, brandishing the Cloak from the depths of my trunk. I dodged around Goyle and ran down the steps.

"But what are we – Potter!"

I stopped running and looked back at her, surprised that she still was across the room. I waited for her to say something, but she merely panted, red-faced and furious. I tapped my watch and said, "What? We don't have all day!"

"How are we going to get to Hogsmeade? Don't we need clothes? And don't you think it would be nice to let me in on the plan?" I grinned, only making her angrier.

"Why? Don't you trust me?" I mocked as her eyes flashed and fists curled.

"Not at all," she retorted, unimpressed by my confidence. I laughed and walked back to her.

"You will eventually," I said confidently, taking her hand and pulling her outside. "Come on, I'll explain on the way." With that, I threw the Cloak over her and headed for the one-eyed witch.

"So your grandfather and his friends discovered all that in their seven years of Hogwarts?" she repeated after I finished explaining the Map. "And invented a Map?"

"Yep," I whispered proudly, lifting the trapdoor tentatively. The cellar of Honeydukes was vacant, besides dust and the occasional spider; I frowned, utterly confused. "Where did everything go?"

Goyle's shoulders slumped considerably under her graduation gown. "He must've heard about the new law and went into hiding." She let out a sigh and I helped to pull her out. "He'll be found soon enough." I felt a twinge of regret.

"I guess we'll have to Apparate from here," I thought out loud, "the front door will be locked." I held out a hand to Goyle.

"Where?" she asked, hesitating a little before taking my hand. I rolled my eyes.

"Home," I assured impatiently, spinning on the spot. We entered the all-too-familiar tube sensation, squeezing us of any oxygen we were breathing before.

"This isn't home," she muttered stubbornly upon seeing my house. I let out a chuckle.

"Temporarily?" I dug out a key from the pocket of my jeans. "My hoard of relatives is probably on their way, so we have to come up with a story, and quick." I opened the door and headed straight for the kitchen, calling, "We can't tell them about the plan, so we'll have to act in love, alright?"

I heard a loud thunk in the hallway and turned around to see Goyle on the floor, clutching her head. I raised an eyebrow. "Did you just trip over your own foot?"

"Yes," she murmured viciously, shooting daggers to the railing that had made contact with her head when she fell. My lips twitched as I watched her lift herself off the floor, muttering… colourful language.

"I can't act in love with you," she mumbled as she entered the kitchen. "They'll figure it out. Why can't we tell them?"

I thought for a moment while rummaging through the fridge. "We could tell them after the wedding. But that would be risking an injury from my mum."

"We wouldn't want to do that," she muttered under her breath as I found a carton of juice.

"Be nice to your husband." I lifted the carton to my lips and chugging. I wiped my mouth using the back of my hand as she scoffed at me.

"You're not my husband," she said absent-mindedly, eyes sweeping around the marble in the kitchen. I caught her eye, and she blushed. "What? You have a nice a house!"

She was making this way too easy.

I loved making people uncomfortable, it was hilarious.

"Want some juice?" I offered, shaking the carton in front of her. She scowled before shaking her head. I let out a sigh of exasperation. "Look, let's just cooperate. Do I have to remind you about the law?" Her eyes flashed, but she kept her mouth shut.

I smirked.

"I still don't understand what's in it for you," she pressed, narrowing her eyes as I placed the carton back in the fridge, considering the idea at the same time. Should I have told her about Holly?

Nah, I thought. With any luck, Holly will leave me alone once she hears about it.

I shrugged. "I'm just willing to help you." I grabbed some spare parchment and scribbled a note for my parents, who were undoubtedly waiting for me at the train station. I took Uncle Ron's old owl, Pig, and sent him off with the letter. Dusting my hands of stray feathers, we sat across from each other at a table.

Silence fell on us again, and I heard the ticking of the clock loudly over my nonexistent thoughts.

Tick. Tock.

"We need a story," I said into the quiet. "Should we just pretend we've been dating in secret?"

Goyle shrugged. "I think that works."

Tick. Tock.

"And we're going to get married," I pondered out loud, and rather uncomfortably.

"Yep."

One-word answer. Thanks.

Tick. Tock.

"Why are you so quiet? You certainly had a lot to say back in that broom closet."

She looked at the ceiling. "I'm worried."

Two words! Ha!

Tick. Tock.

"I swear, if this gets any more awkward, and I'm going to knock something over." I glared at her, but she only shrugged and fiddled with her fingers.

SAY SOMETHING!

Tick. Tock.

"Goyle, what's your first name?"

Hey, I really didn't know.

"Maybe we should get to know each other?" I suggested another awkward silence later. She nodded and cracked an evil grin. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Your title is the Hottest Single Teen in England, according to Witch Weekly." The blood rushed to my face and she added, "I don't see why, however."

I let out a breath of exasperation. "You're not exactly anything special, either," I lied effortlessly, annoyed when her grin didn't drop.

"What job are you applying for?"

"Funny you mention that, actually," I answered, sniggering slightly. "Journalist; I'm replacing Rita Skeeter." Her eyes widened.

"The headlines talk about your family all the time. Why would you join their industry?"

"Well, someone ought to report a real story. There's a lot of gossip in the Prophet." Goyle nodded in agreement, her smirk returning to her face as she crossed her arms and leaned forward.

"Ah," she said knowingly. "How are you going to report our marriage?" I pretended to think.

"I'm going to tell the entire wizarding community in London that Harry Potter's son is marrying the daughter of a former Death Eater to save her family. I'll include the fact that she's a gold digger, out for my parents' money."

"I'd rather you report that I was blackmailed into marrying you," she said seriously. "That way, you'd go to court and I'd get half your money." I let out a genuine laugh; I liked her. If we had met at Hogwarts, we could have been good friends.

"What are you going for?" I asked, leaning forward and resting my head in my arms.

"I'm trying to be a Healer, like my dad. I'm off to Healing school for the next four years, hopefully." I let my eyes widen and lifted my head as I pointed an accusing finger towards her.

"I knew you were in it for the money! Healing school is expensive." She shrugged, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"You caught me. But you're blackmailing me, huh?" I put down my hand and twirled a coaster around.

"What is the incriminating evidence I have? Moreover, what exactly have you done?" I was pleased to see that she blushed guiltily before answering.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out." I slapped down the coaster and locked my eyes with hers.

"There really is something, isn't there?" I asked eagerly. "You're a Slytherin, there must be." She looked at me amusedly as I demanded her an explanation. She shook her head, letting her brown hair fall in front of her face like a curtain.

"No." She twisted her hair in her finger absent-mindedly, in deep thought. "What else should we know about each other?" I looked at her questioning, when I suddenly remembered.

Oh, right. We were getting married.

"How long should we have been dating?" I asked, my smile dropping slightly. "A year?" She nodded in agreement.

"It won't be as suspicious. Why would we have hidden it?" I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair as I thought of it. I looked to her; my parents wouldn't have cared if I dated a Slytherin.

"Because of my ex-girlfriend," I blurted out. Obviously! It was a fool-proof explanation.

I wasn't going to tell her, though. Whoops.

I suddenly had a great idea. "What if we just eloped, and then came back? That way, our parents wouldn't have any way of stopping the marriage!"

Her eyes bugged out as she opened her mouth to answer when we saw my parents' van (also known as my father's mid-life crisis) roll into the driveway. Goyle – or Emily, I should call her – stopped twisting her hair and got up from the dining table, looking nervous. I tried not to laugh.

"My mum's going to be pissed that I didn't meet up with her, so just brace yourself for the yelling, okay?" I told her. She straightened her gown and nodded quietly.

"ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!" I winced.

Ouch, Mum. Full name?

"Yeah?" I called sheepishly as she entered the wide-open front door, looking furious.

Oops. Probably should have shut the door.

"YOU HAD BETTER HOPE YOU HAVE FAMILY LEFT AFTER SKIPPING YOUR GRADUATION!"

Oh, right. I had forgotten about that.

She advanced, her face as red as her hair, and grabbed my ear. I howled in pain. "Ow, Mum! Let go!"

"WHERE WAS YOUR OWL TO TELL US YOU'D APPARATED HOME?"

"I sent it!" I told her, rubbing my ear and glaring at my siblings, James and Lily, who were enjoying the show. My father clearly looked as though he were about to laugh.

My family was just so supportive.

"I'm SORRY!" I bellowed, growing impatient over her endless ranting. "You figured it out eventually, didn't you? Furthermore," I said loudly, so Mum would hear, "I have an announcement." Automatically, my eyes travelled over to Emily, who was on the verge of bursting into laughter. I grinned.

"Who's this? Your girlfriend?" Dad asked, looking at her curiously. I knew if I got the words out, there would be no taking them back – for me or her.

I'm really going to regret this.

"Nope," I said quickly, glancing at my father. "She's my fiancée."

There was a second of silence before the house exploded.

No, not literally; Lily screamed, Mum burst into tears and James started laughing through bouts of "You're getting married beforeme?" and promptly tackled me to the ground, followed by Lily.

If I knew they were going to react like that, I would've worn a suit of armour.

Emily looked as though she would die from laughing as she watched my brother and sister tear me apart. There was a faint buzzing in my ear as Mum screeched some more and Lily and James practically sat on me. I tried to push them off, but they wouldn't budge.

"Get OFF me!" I shouted as James punched me in stomach, knocking over a chair in the process. He shook his head and continued to punch me as Lily kneed me in the groin.

That suit of armour could've been of help at that moment.

"Dad, HELP!" I groaned in pain and rolled away, James still trying to kick me everywhere I could. Dad picked me up by the collar and roughly pushed me into a chair. Mum had stopped shouting and currently had her head stuck in the fireplace, flooing my entire family to our house.

I looked to Emily, who was still giggling. "You won't be laughing soon," I told her, a little irritated and still in pain. "My mum's calling an emergency family meeting." She tilted her head in confusion.

"Our family is huge," Lily clarified as she and James decided to join us at the table, high-fiving each other when they sat down. I looked back to Emily as she hugged the graduation gown around her nervously.

"Tell me about it," I moaned before dropping my head into my arms again.

Emergency family meetings involved everyone - and when I say everyone, I mean everyone who could reach a fireplace and floo to whatever place needed. At this point, countless cousins, uncles and aunts were scrambling out of the green fire. Emily parents were the last to arrive, looking very confused.

"Please tell me you at least proposed properly," my mum sighed as people struggled to find somewhere to sit. I looked at Emily, who shrugged unhelpfully.

Aren't Slytherins supposed to be naturally cunning? Why isn't she getting me out of this mess?

"I don't have the slightest clue to what you're talking about," I said uncomfortably as the entire family stared at us from various points of the room. There were at least fifty eyes staring at me and Emily sitting at the end of the table.

"Did you ask for her father's blessing?" James said condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. I looked at him blankly.

"Why would I do that?" Emily groaned beside me, discreetly shaking her head.

"Purebloods are old-fashioned, you idiot," she hissed beside me as a sea of red heads broke out into whispers. She squirmed beside me, clearly wishing she wasn't here.

"You know what I'd like to know?" Malfoy spoke up, looking slightly hurt. I guess if my best friend hadn't told me something this important, I'd be pissed, too. "When did you and Potter start dating, exactly? Did you keep it a secret?"

Ha! I knew that'd come up.

"One year," I answered, trying not to look smug. Malfoy ignored me.

Emily cleared her throat and straightened up. "I'm sorry, Scorp. Albus just wanted to keep it a secret from his ex-girlfriend."

"I can see why," Rose said, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. I scowled.

"How did it happen?" asked Dominique, looking as though she were dying for some gossip. "When did you meet?"

Oops. We'd forgotten to discuss that.

"I liked him for a long time," Emily blurted from beside me, shooting me a look. "Al didn't know I existed."

"Yes, I did," I argued, hoping this looked believable. So far, they were buying it. "I just didn't really say anything until last year."

"At the first Quidditch match of the season."

"Which Gryffindor won."

"I was sulking because Slytherin had lost." I nearly laughed. She would've done more than sulk.

"And she bumped into me on the Pitch, having come out of the change room and –"

"We got talking. Soon we were –"

"Friends," I cut in, my eyes glinting. Everyone loves a challenge. "Good friends. We helped each other out with Quidditch –"

"And Al is absolutely rubbish at Astronomy –"

"So she tutored me," I stated, feeling annoyed. I'm actually pretty good at Astronomy. "Things just sort of fell into place after that." All the older ladies dabbed at their eyes, and I felt the urge to snort.

"He proposed yesterday," Emily offered weakly, looking to her parents, who hadn't said a word since they had arrived. Dom, Molly and Lucy squealed and Rose looked at me as though I had sprouted three heads.

Somehow, that was a look I had become quite familiar with over the years.

As I checked my head for extras, Nana spoke up with, "Why doesn't she have a ring yet?"

"I… uh… didn't find a good one in Hogsmeade?" I said, hoping that it was a good enough excuse. Even to my ears, that sounded pathetic. My father shook his head, lips twitching.

"Don't worry Al, you'll find one in Diagon Alley." I nodded and attempted a smile, but failed.

Emily hadn't even attempted; she looked pained. "Mum? Dad?" She spoke up quietly, as if afraid of their reactions. I don't blame her. They looked as though something had died.

Excuse the irony.

They forced smiles onto their faces. "If this is what you want, Em, then it's fine with us." I sighed with relief, but Emily looked as though she was about to burst into tears.

Hey, I was the one saving her entire family, here!

"Why so soon?" my mother asked, still trying to comprehend the situation. You're seventeen and just graduated today. Are you sure you're ready for marriage?" We nodded simultaneously, and Emily grasped my hand with a fake smile.

"Yeah, we're just –" she glanced at me pleadingly "– so in love!" she cried weakly, squeezing my hand. We knew the real reason, of course; the law was put into motion today, so we had to get married soon in order to save her family. Verysoon.

"The wedding is going to be within two weeks or so," I said loudly over more squeals of 'Aw, this is so cute!' and 'Young love.' The room instantly went silent, as though I had dropped a bomb in the middle of the living room.

"You can't be serious," Aunt Hermione said, glancing at Aunt Fleur uneasily, whose face had drained of all colour. "Don't you think they should wait until the end of the summer? Or maybe –"

"No," Emily interrupted quietly, now staring out the window. "Two weeks." The clock in this room became audible as everyone waited.

Merlin, I hate clocks.

Tick. Tock.

"You don't look like you're in love," sneered Aunt Audrey, glancing at Uncle Percy fondly.

And there was my cue to leave.

"We're going… ring shopping," I invented wildly, tripping over a cousin sprawled out in front of the entrance. I dragged Emily with me, who looked as though she was going to throw up. "See you in a bit!"

As we shut the door and stepped outside, Emily had started crying again, not bothering to hide it from me. I gave a long sigh before grabbing her arm and spinning on the spot, landing in Diagon Alley. Her eyes were red and she looked as though she wouldn't stop crying for a long time.

I knew we should've gotten hitched before telling my family.