Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter series is not mine.
Part I: Chapter Six
1965
Fabian's graduation party was, for most of the people involved, a fun event. The Prewett family home played host to cheer and excitement. Alice stood between Molly and Greta, laughing at something Arthur had said. Benjy was with them and also laughing. Gideon and Jacob sat in the Prewett's backyard. Gideon was twisting a very green strand of grass in his hand, and Jacob was staring up as the sky wit ha worried expression on his face.
"Jacob," Gideon said.
The use of his full name caused the younger boy to quit staring at the sky, "Yeah?"
"I'm quite aware of the fact that I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but I'm worried about you."
"There's nothing to worry about, Gid," Jacob lied, "I'm fine."
Gideon sighed, "That's just it, Jacob. I know you too well. Alice knows you too well. We both know that something is wrong."
"You're projecting things -"
"I wish you would drop the façade. Look, I know you're the person everyone comes to with their issues, because you're so wise when it comes to emotions, but for Merlin's sake, Jake, you're allowed to have your own problems."
Why did he have to bring this up now? Jacob was still tormented by thoughts of Bartholomew Bagshot and being an almost-killer, of guilt and wishing that day had never happened, but on that particular day he had thus far managed to keep all of them out of his mind.
"I don't want to talk about it," he told Gideon.
"I know what you're doing," Gideon said softly, "If you keep it locked in your head, tormenting yourself with it, whatever it is, Jake, you'll drive yourself crazy."
Jacob shrugged and went into the house, leaving Gideon alone in the backyard.
A few minutes later, Gideon went in after him. He spotted Alice.
"Where's your brother?" he asked her.
"He left," Alice replied, "He said he didn't feel well, but I could tell something else was up."
"Where'd he go?" Gideon asked, sounding the slightest bit frantic.
"Home," Alice told him, "but Gideon, don't go after him. You know Jacob; he'll only talk when he's ready."
Gideon sighed, knowing that he had made a mistake, "Yeah, you're right."
Jacob flooed himself home. He ended up in the living room with a despondent look on his face. The room was empty save for himself; he wondered where Katherine and his parents were. He turned, ready to go upstairs to his bedroom when he heard the voice of his mother.
"Jacob?"
"Hi, Mum."
"You're back early."
"I am, I guess. Where is everyone?"
"Katherine is at Zoey's house, and your father is in the garden."
Jacob paused. After a few moments of consideration, he realized that Gideon was right. He couldn't go on like this. He decided to take the jump, "Mum, can talk you about something?"
"Of course you can, dear," Minerva replied. They sat down on the sofa.
"I feel so guilty," Jacob began, "I..I…thinking about it makes me feel horrible."
"What happened, Jacob?" Minerva gently asked her middle child.
Her son closed his eyes, "You were there, Mum. I almost killed Bartholomew Bagshot that day, after he told us that he had curse Katherine."
"Oh, Jacob," Minerva began, but he interrupted her.
"I would have killed him if Dad hadn't stopped me, and I feel absolutely terrible about that. Mum, what've I become? What if Dad hadn't stopped me? Maybe I belong in Azkaban."
"Jacob," Minerva said firmly, "Jacob, listen to me. You, my dear, are not a killer. You're not. And the last place in this world that you belong in is Azkaban."
"I had my wand out and was ready to use the killing curse on him," Jacob objected.
"You reacted how a protective older brother would have. What you did was entirely different from a sadistic dark wizard who goes around murdering others. And you must remember, Jacob, you did not harm a single hair on Bartholomew Bagshot's head."
"It scares me that I came so close to doing so. It scares me that I felt the desire to."
"Our emotions are often a source of fear," Minerva told her son, "That moment, when you felt that desire, that isn't you. That isn't you at all. Don't let it define you."
Jacob was thoughtful for a few moments, "I won't. Thank you, Mum."
That evening, Alice stuck her head into her brother's bedroom.
"You feeling better?" she asked him.
"I am. I talked to Mum," he replied.
"Well, I'm glad. If it ever comes up again, you know I'm always here to listen, if you want."
Jacob nodded. Just as his sister was about to leave the room, he asked hesitantly, "Alice?"
"Yes?"
"Was Gideon angry?"
Alice looked surprised, "Angry? No. If anything, he was worried."
"I was short with him at Fabian's party," Jacob explained.
"Don't worry," Alice reassured him, as she entered the room and sat down next to him, "You and Gid are two halves of a whole. You'll will be okay."
Jacob nodded again, "Thanks, Alice."
She smiled, "No problem, little brother."
"Oh, I never asked you: how were OWLs?" Jacob inquired.
Alice made a face, causing Jacob to chucked, "You know you did fine."
"Yes, I hope so," Alice replied. Suddenly, she smiled to herself.
"What?" Jacob asked.
"Duke and I made a deal: whoever gets the higher score on the potions exam has to get the other a gift."
Jacob laughed, "Good luck with that."
Alice smiled mischievously.
"Jacob, Alice!" their mother called from downstairs, "Dinner!"
They headed down to the dining room.
"I think Dad was going to cook tonight," Alice remarked as they walked down the stairs.
Jacob smiled, "That will be interesting, unusual, and definitely full of sugar."
Later that night, after his family had enjoyed what his father had concocted for dinner, Jacob received an owl. His name was written in a familiar, loopy scrawl that caused his heart to flutter. He opened the letter.
Jacob,
I'm sorry.
- Gid
Those four words caused Jacob to do what he did next. He smiled sadly to himself, went and found the floo powder, and said, "Mum? I'm going over to the Prewett's."
The next morning, after Jacob had made up with Gideon and everyone had finally woken up on the first full fledged day of summer, the Dumbledores gathered around the dining room table with food and conversation. While the children discussed plans for later in the week, Albus glanced at Minerva. She nodded.
Minerva cleared her through, catching the attention of the three siblings.
"Your father and I have been thinking about an idea that he had last month," she began.
"I thought," Albus continued, "that perhaps we could invite Bartholomew to dinner one evening."
The three siblings looked surprised. Then, as the idea sunk in, they seemed to grow accustomed to it.
Jacob smiled, "Lets do it."
