Title: Hogwarts, Class of 2024: Year One
Setting: Hogwarts; September 2017 to June 2018
Summary: Albus Potter and Rose Weasley find their own way in the world during their seven years at Hogwarts, taught by Professors Neville Longbottom, Gabrielle Delacour, and Teddy Lupin.
Hogwarts, Class of 2024
Year One
Chapter Four
"Are you all right?" Albus asked, as he walked over to Oliver's part of the room. Oliver had the four poster nearest to the window, next to Albus, and his area was covered from floor to ceiling with Quidditch posters, most of them of his father in full Puddlemere United regalia. No one else was in the room, not even their other roommates Luke Macmillan, Jordan Thomas, and Brendan Finnigan. Albus considered that lucky; he doubted Oliver would want anyone to see him lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow.
Oliver pretended her was asleep; he began snoring a bit–but Albus saw through the rouse, and poked his back with his wand.
"Oliver, I know what happened–and it sucks, but it's not the end of the world."
Oliver sat up quickly, wiped his nose and eyes–which were bloodshot; he had been crying for quite a while. "It's the end of my world," he said softly. "My father lives and breathes Quidditch, don't you know that?"
"He'll understand," Albus replied. "Even your dad didn't make the Quidditch team as a first year."
"No," Oliver agreed, "but he didn't make third-string reserve, either. Do you realize how many seekers will have to be injured before I'm allowed to play?" He smiled a bit ironically, a bit bitterly. "You know, the only time my dad is proud of me is when I play Quidditch."
"I'm sure he's proud of you loads of times."
"Never," Oliver repeated. "When I got into Hogwarts, the first thing he said to me was, 'There'll be a Quidditch Cup with your name on it by the end of the year.'" He shook his head in shame, and then added, "I guess he was wrong."
"Oh, come off it," Albus said. "If he's not proud of you because you didn't make the team as a first year–which no one does anyway–then that's his problem. I'd be proud of you; you're a good guy, you know?"
There was a pause. "Do you think you could talk to James about getting me on the team?"
"Oh, I don't think so, Oliver–he doesn't have any power over that sort of thing. And the list has already been posted; it's too late."
"I guess you're right," he replied. "Thank you, though."
"For what?"
"Just for being here," he said, "and talking to me. No one's done that to me before."
"Talked to you?"
"Not like this," he said. "Not when I'm upset. I'm sorry you had to see me cry."
"I didn't," Albus said.
Oliver grinned a bit. "I guess you didn't–but you knew I had been."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," he said. "It's not your fault. If you're not good enough, you're not good enough." He gave a bit of a thin smile, and said, "I think I'm going to go write my father now."
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"Someone's dressed up," Neville said, as he came into Gabrielle's room. "Planning a romantic evening with a certain charms professor?"
"Justin told you?" she grinned. When Neville nodded, she said, "I don't think it'll be romantic. Justin's nice, and all, but do you really think he's my type?"
"Not really," Neville admitted. "But you can get a free meal out of him."
"That's my plan," she replied, with a joking grin on her face.
Neville paused a bit, then said, "Do you think I have a crush on Luna? Justin said everyone thinks I do."
Gabrielle looked at him, bit her lip, then went back to looking at herself in the mirror.
"I don't!" he exclaimed.
"There's no shame in asking her out," Gabrielle said, "if you really like her, you know."
"I don't."
"Well, if you don't, don't bother with it," she said. "Have you seen Teddy? I wanted to say goodnight to him; he's had a rough day, I think."
"What happened?"
"He brought in a barrel of pixies–and that little punk, Scorpius Malfoy, made the damned thing explode. Pixies, everywhere; Teddy couldn't stun them fast enough. He was so embarrassed; everyone was talking about it."
"Poor guy," Neville said. "But I don't think he's in his room. I just knocked on his door."
There was a knock on the door, and Justin appeared there, wearing dark blue dress robes, and holding a bouquet of flowers. "Are you ready, Gabrielle?"
Gabrielle smiled, then looked to Neville. "I'll see you later."
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Teddy sat at the bar in the Three Broomsticks, holding his head in his hands. "Give me another firewhisky."
The bartender, Christy Rosmerta–the twentysomething daughter of Madam Rosmerta–rolled her eyes, and continued cleaning off the counter; being a Tuesday night, Teddy was the only one in the pub–and, by this point, he had quite a few drinks already. "I think you've had enough, Professor Lupin."
"Just one more," Teddy begged, without raising his head. "I've had an awful day."
The door swung open–and a wide-eyed Oliver stood there, holding Albus's invisibility cloak in hand.
"Professor!" he gasped.
"Wood," grunted Teddy. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I–" he began. "I came out for a drink."
"First years aren't allowed in Hogsmeade," Teddy replied. "I'm going to have to report you–" He stopped when he saw the dejection in the young Wood's face. "But I won't."
"You won't?"
Teddy stood up, stumbled a bit, and was suddenly very aware of his face. He gave a bit of a crooked smile, and staggered over his student. "I'm not supposed to get drunk in front of students either," he said, "and I'm quite drunk–so why don't we make tonight our little secret?"
Oliver gave a thin smile. "All right," he replied. "Can you buy me a drink?"
Teddy smiled at him as well, and gave a bit of a laugh. "That would be no, Wood. But I'll walk you back to the castle if you'd like."
The student's smile grew a bit larger, and he nodded. "Do you need help, Professor?"
Teddy shook his head, grabbing onto chairs, and then the doorframe as the two of them left the Three Broomsticks. "I'm fine." He hiccupped loudly, but felt a little better when he got outside.
"Where'd you get that cloak, anyway?"
"It's Albus's."
"I know that," Teddy said with a grin. "It belonged to his father–and Harry didn't want to give it to James, because he knew he would use it to cause mischief. I meant where did you get it tonight?"
"Albus keeps it in his trunk," Oliver said, "and I just wanted to borrow it–to go get a drink."
"Do you drink often?"
"No. Well, not since–never mind. No, I don't. But I thought I could use it tonight."
"What's bothering you, Wood?"
"I didn't make the Quidditch team," he said. "And I went to the owlery to tell my father–but, as I wrote the letter, I could tell him. So I lied–and I told him I'm seeker." He looked a bit sheepish, and then looked away rather quickly.
"You shouldn't have done that," Teddy said. "But life's full of things you wish you hadn't done. What defines us isn't the sum of our stupidity, but the courage we yield when confronted by our stupidity." He grinned a bit, pursed his lips–he rather liked the oversensitive feeling. "I don't even know if that made sense."
"No, it made perfect sense," said Oliver. "And thank you. No one's ever put it quite like that before."
"Glad I could help. I'm quite the drunk philosopher, I suppose. Philosopher. There's a funny word."
They had, by this point, reached the edge of the grounds.
"Cloak on, Wood," Teddy said, "and go straight to Gryffindor tower, would you? I don't want you to get either of us into any trouble tonight."
Oliver gave the professor an admiring smile, and disappeared beneath the invisibility cloak.