Look for the Good Instead

Chapter 2

Sticks and Stones

"A broken bone can heal, but the wound a word opens can fester forever."

Jessamyn West

.Charlus Potter.

There was no moment of grogginess, no period of being unable to wake, unsure if I was me and hearing somehow familiar voices. No, instead, there was a rather lot of darkness, void, and suddenly everything was moving again, as if a muggle movie had been put on "Stop" and then "Play". From silence to the sounds of my parents arguing with Madame Pomfrey, the matron of the Hospital Wing, about if I should be taken to St. Mungo's because of the troll attack.

"You needn't worry Lily! He'll be waking up soon anyway. Everything is healed after all, it isn't like he's in a coma," She sounded exasperated. Of course, if Mum really was panicked about this, then it would make sense... and I was awake after all. Mum – again, Lily to you – gets in a right state whenever Harry and I get so much as a scratch.

"I am here you know," I murmured, opening my eyes a crack, and then snapping them shut. It was bright in the Hospital Wing.

"Chaz!" And at that moment, I received my first sick-bed glomp. Mum was hugging me and shaking me, and weeping, and giving my brain a good rattling. "Oh I'm so glad you're okay! How could you have been so stupid? Oh, I'm so glad –" etc. etc.

"I'm fine Mum!" I struggled out of her grasp. "Or I was until you strangled me. Merlin, that smarts..." I rubbed my temples as I became accustomed to the amount of white and light in the room.

"Charlie," My dad. While Mum goes for Chaz, as it sounds a lot like a muggle nickname, Dad goes for the traditional Charlie. Quite honestly, I don't really care which they use, but my dad... well, the tone he was using? Let's just say it spelled Trouble. Yes, that is with a capital T. "Harry told us what happened."

To say I was surprised would be the understatement of the century. After insulting me, leading to near death-by-Troll, Harry actually took the blame? I mean, yeah, it was the right thing to do, but Harry never turned himself in.

"I hope you know you almost got suspended for that stunt," Mum was suddenly rather angry.

"Stunt? What stunt? I didn't do anything!" Okay, so indignant rage isn't something I'm very good at, but I had a good idea about what happened now. Harry blamed everything on me. As usual. Upon reflection, maybe my initial comments on how there was "no favoritism" in our family isn't quite right. They always believed Harry over me. Always. And Harry used that to his advantage whenever we pranked together. It also allowed him to perfect his "I'm so innocent!" look that all trouble makers coveted.

"Don't you try and pull that one," Dad grumped. "Harry told us how you decided to try to take on that troll to get our attention. I realize we haven't been fair to you, but you put Harry and a muggleborn girl in danger! What were you thinking?! You're eleven years old Charlus, most adults can't even take on a troll. You'relucky that Harry showed up when he did."

I stopped thinking, I think. I don't really know. I just sort of blanked out. One moment I was sitting in my hospital bed, gaping, and the next I was standing, face right up close to my dad's (oh Merlin, that must have looked odd), and he looked pissed.

One hour later, I was released to the Slytherin common room, plotting my brother's downfall.

"I hate my brother," I growled as I sat next to Hermione for Herbology. This had been the medium for conversation for the past two weeks. Today was Friday, and the first Quidditch match of the school season would be the next day. I was rooting for Slytherin, officially. No unofficial house allegiances. If my brother was going to be a lying prat, then I had every right to loathe him. Surprisingly, Hermione and Neville backed me up. They knew the entire incident was his fault, as they'd heard the instigating comment coming from my so-called sibling's mouth.

I've been spending twice as much time in my bathroom now. Instead of mooning after my own brother's attention, I've been ignoring him quite pointedly. He even had the gall to try and sit with me in Potions earlier that morning. My little display of anger, loathing, and pointedly moving as far from him, right on the split to be by Neville, might have actually made Snape confused. I don't really know. I saw this look in his eyes... it was different from the usual "glare and hate" thing. Made me feel special.

"Yes, Chaz, I get it," Hermione sighed. Okay, she understood my righteous indignation. She was just getting annoyed with my adamancy regarding the general situation. 'Course, my over all attitude wasn't terribly encouraging anyway... but still. "Just sit down and shush, we do have to pay attention in class you know."

"Yes ma'am..." I mumbled. Work went quickly, and before I knew it, classes for the day were out, leaving me with an afternoon of moping. Aside from eating (which I did sparingly), sleeping (I had dreams troubled by images of exploding doors and impending squishes via troll, so that wasn't too frequent either), doing homework (Hermione would kill me if I didn't), and attend classes (again, Hermione), I did little but mope. Sure, I would plot the demise of my brother (also known as vengeance for getting me suspended for the previous week), but mostly I mope. Brood. Sit on a toilet and weep. Specific enough? Good.

Right, so, like I said, I was sitting on my toilet, pouting, not to the part where I mope, just sort of brooding and glaring at the universe, and there was a knock on my stall door. A visitor in the only boys' room in the school that no one goes to. Because, really, I was no one. At all.

"Charlus? You there?" My brother. LOATHING. Yes, that's why I wanted to curl up and die in a corner of despair. It wasn't because I was afraid, ashamed... nope, none of those. Just spiteful. Nothing else of course, after all, it wasn't like I was ashamed my hidey hole had been compromised, or anything like that. Not a chance.

"Go away," I growled. Very menacing if I do say so myself. I'd been practicing. A scowl all day keeps the prats away after all. It works for Snape and Malfoy anyway.

"Oh come on! It's not like I did anything wrong!" Harry protested. He sounded angry actually, as if I was being the childish one! He was the one to insult me! It was all his fault!

I slid the lock open and shoved the door, scowling for all I was worth. "Nothing wrong?! First you ignore me all October, acting like we aren't related, then you go off and insult me because I was defending Hermione from your stupid friend's insults, and you think you didn't do anything?! What the hell Harry!" It felt rather good to yell at Harry. Maybe I should take my anger out on him more often. "You're the reason I could have been killed by a troll! And you blamed it on me, you conniving arse!"

"It wasn't that bad," Harry mumbled. "You were being a Slytherin, I wasn't. What's up with you? You weren't like this before..." He seemed somehow unsure. I dunno. I wasn't paying him much attention but I knew that he wasn't sure he was right. Of course I hadn't been like this before though! I hadn't been tossed into Slytherin for no reason before! I hadn't almost been killed before!

I glared. I don't mean that I narrowed my eyes and scrunched up my face. I mean that I looked him straight in the eye and glared. There's a difference. Scrunching up one's face to glare is like pouting, but I mimicked Snape. If he reported that to Mum and Dad, all the better. They would know what my twin brother did to me. He turned me into a Slytherin.

"How was Ibeing a Slytherin? I was defending my friend because Ron was being a prick, and when a Troll comes and attacks me, you say it's my fault! You're the one who was being a stupid sodding Slytherin!" And, with this angered howl, I fled my sanctuary, heading instead to Hermione's. If I was with her, than Harry usually let well enough alone.

Usually.

"Harry being mean again?" Hermione asked without looking up as I flopped next to her. She was helping Hannah Abbott with her Charms work, and the girl had jumped when I took the chair.

"Yes," I murmured. "Apparently blaming the entire situation on me 'wasn't that big a deal'. If Mum knew, he wouldn't be saying that. He'd be fearing for his life instead of being all big headed and stuff." I harrumphed my disapproval. "I have to find a new pit of despair."

"Oh? You've finally admitted that bit at least," Hermione was hardly paying attention to me as she demonstrated the motions for the unlocking charm. "Of course, he was bound to come after you. And since your hidey hole is rather near to the Gryffindor Commons – and no, I'm not telling you where they are – it was only a matter of time really. As much of a git as he is, he is a Potter. You said yourself that Potter's are – usually – loyal to a fault."

I didn't reply, and just moped in my seat. Hannah had quickly fled, and Hermione dismissed herself to go for dinner. I ignored that, and retreated to a corner of the library for a while, plucking through books to get my mind off of everything. Mum always said it was a healthier habit than sulking after all.

Setting down with a book on Defense Against Dark Creatures (Uncle Moony gave Harry and I lessons, so the familiar grounds might help soothe me), I spent all through dinner reading. I heard Hermione come in again, chatting quietly with Neville in the next aisle over – the Herbology aisle – but ignored them. Until, of course, my brother stepped in. One would think that he might know to leave well enough alone, yet there he was, attempting once more to recruit my friends to his "fan club".

"Hello Hermione, Neville," Harry said jovially as the sounds of his feet trotted through the aisle. I leaned nearer the bookshelves to hear whatever was said. "Wanna watch the Gryffindor Quidditch practice? It's rather nice outside, and we're starting up in a bit. You're going to be at the game tomorrow, right?"

"I'd rather not," I could practically hear Hermione pursing her lips as she said this. "I have studying to do, you see. Quidditch isn't that great really. Besides," she paused here, most likely for effect, "I'd rather not be on the whole other side of the field from my friend. You do know what friends are of course?"

"Huh? Of course I do!" Harry's vexation was clearly audible.

"Good, then you know well enough that we aren't yours," Neville put in. Two chairs scraped against the carpet. "Hey 'Mione, let's go find Chaz. Still upstairs, right?"

"You mean the pit of despair? No. Harry found him out," She replied nonchalantly.

A smirk formed on my lips. They were ignoring him! I could just barely see through the crack of two books the shocked look on Harry's face. He was stammering in shock. He wasn't used to anyone refusing him after all, aside from Slytherins, so this was a great upheaval to his attitide. I felt he was getting his just reward, as I'm sure Hermione and Neville did as they ignored him in favor of pursuing me...

Right. At that point I got up from my seat and met them quickly at the end of their row, surprised, but pleased to see me.

"Evening Hermione, Neville," I smiled happily at them. "You were right, the Library is better than a pit of despair." I fell into step with my friends as they continued down the Herbology aisle, Harry somewhere behind us. "There's more to do than stew in my own thoughts, like watch while my brother makes a fool of himself."

Hermione giggled and Neville chuckled. "Right mate," Neville muttered. "Want to play some exploding snap before curfew?"

And so, I finally fell from pit of despair into an anti-pit. After two months of moping, I was happier, knowing my friends weren't about to leave me for my famous prat of a brother. They stood up for me when they didn't know I was there. They hadn't sided with my brother, laughing about me behind my back. Thinking that I was elsewhere, they had defended me in a manner that I shouldn't have known about. Hermione and Neville were true friends, and it sort of covered up the hole left from Harry's betrayal.

Yes, these were my friends, and nothing that the famous Boy-Who-Lived could do would take that from me.

Of course, that wound was continually opened every time I actually saw my brother. His continual approaches to try and recruit my friends. It kept reminding me of something Mum once said, when Lucius Malfoy had called her a "mudblood".

"Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," She had taunted. Dad had said that it depended on who was saying those words, because sometimes, if the right person insulted you, it would be worse than a thousand sticks and stones. I guess he meant when Mum hated him in school. Uncle Pads said he had always been miserable back then, that no matter how happy he was one moment, a single look of anger from Mum would put him in a mood all day.

And that's how it was with Harry, except he was actively moving against me, whereas with Mum and Dad, Mum just found him annoying. No, this was different, and the same, everything else. Harry was my brother, and until Hogwarts we had been so close! And yet the moment the Sorting began, we were suddenly apart, and that gap had grown, finally thrust very wide when Harry insulted me.

And every time that I saw him, it was like he was reopening that wound he first carved. He came frequently to the library, where I holed up with Hermione, usually doing homework and then reading from the novel section, and tried to sway her to his side, whether I was there or not.

"You would have been the worst Hufflepuff on the face of the planet, Potter," Hermione had huffed one day. "You're about as kind and caring as Goyle. About as smart as well, so you wouldn't have made Ravenclaw. Honestly, how you became a Gryffindor when all you do is try and smite your own brother is beyond me!" And she had slammed her book closed, leaving.

Hermione was always the best for telling Harry off, he would get this really sad look in his eyes. At first we thought he might've had a crush on her, but this was quickly dispelled, as he didn't act anything like Dad had. He just really wanted to be Hermione's friend.

Christmas came quickly, with each day much the same. Mum wrote for both Harry and myself to return for the holiday, and I did so reluctantly. The only time I would have had the dungeon to myself, and my mum decides she want me home, where I'd get suspicious looks from Dad at the very least, and my own Godfather. It wouldn't be a happy Christmas because my dad still wasn't over what house I'd been sorted into, to the best of my knowledge. It was pathetic. But I had to go home, so it was with a leaden heart that I climbed on the Hogwarts Express with Hermione, Neville, and Hannah (who had, by this point, understood that I wasn't about to bite her).

My first Christmas as a Slytherin was not going to be a pleasant experience, I was certain.

Author's Note: First point- why did Harry blame the troll incident on Charlus? Well, for one, he's Harry, so impulsive. He didn't bother to think it up before, so he says something. It can't be "oh, well, you see, my friend was insulting Charlus' friend, and then he got mad at us, and I insulted him, and he ran away to cry in the toilets. I only came up to make sure the girl my friend was insulting didn't get hurt." He also can't say that he's from an alternate future, because that would be weird, and he'd be committed to St. Mungo's. Instead, Harry does the first thing he can think of- he blames it on the innocent bystander that was there because of him. Oh, and Harry didn't personally tell his parents. He told McG and she spread that on to the Potter parents.

The real question is this: how did the troll get to the seventh floor?

Quirrell is a bit more into the whole "get rid of Harry" thing, so he put it on the same floor as the Gryffindor commons and diverted the Professors to the wrong place, but a few teachers were sent to scour the other floors, in case there was more than just a troll running about, and the little pack (McGonagall, Vektor, and Flitwick) heard the crashes from about two floors below, took short cuts, and voila. Instant teachers.

Second point- No, Charlus doesn't actually hate Harry... not his Harry anyway. He's really confused and angry and hates what has been happening with his brother since early October, but he can't hate his brother. Potters are loyal to a fault, and that's not changing. Poor Chaz is angry that his brother was so mean, disgusted he would try and take his friends, and confused as to why he's acting like that.

There is (almost) no jealousy, because he knows Harry hates the attention, and because he knows that he would hate it too.

There is no feud starting up, just a fight. Don't worry, they will start being more brotherly near third, maybe fourth, year, still deciding just when. They do make up for a bit for chapters 3-5.

Third point- Chaz is NOT emo (though he will seem it near the end of his 2nd year summer). He is just really freaking weird, and a bit unstable, because he doesn't have a hobby... until now. He has, officially, gotten into reading, much to Hermione's delight. As will be mentioned in the next chapter, he is now heavily into fiction, especially of the muggle variety. He will be reading a lot about dark creatures though, so he'll be über amazing when/if Remus teaches. I haven't decided that yet.

Fourth point- the two groups will at least sorta meld, they will not be against each other. One of said groups will also dissolve a bit later. The "Trio" will never be the trio again, but I am keeping the Hermione/Ron shipping from canon, so they obviously have to get along a bit. Other pairings (not that I'll be focusing much on them) are secret. You can't even count on Harry/Ginny, just so you know. If you read my profile, you'll know my stance on it anyway.

Fifth point- I am a girl. I dunno why, but there is someone who reads my poetry and stuff who quoted one of my summaries (for Revenge part 1, they used "rated M for corpses" as a quote) who thought I'm a guy. I am indeed female. I just get a lot of ideas that would work better from the male perspective (as will be proven when I have more stories up... which, I'll admit, won't be for a while, maybe not 'til I'm done with this story).

Sorry this is a bit late, my sis was hogging the comp. Well, have a good week!