CHAPTER TEN

Seeker

Albus woke to something quite large hitting him on the head repeatedly. Opening one blurry eye, he saw a flash of red quite near to his face. Rose.

"Get up, Albus! Come on!" she hit him again. Albus groaned and pulled the duvet higher up over his head to avoid her blows.

"Come on! Madam Hooch wants to see you!" Rose shook him hard, ripping the duvet back from his body. At the sound of the flying teacher's name, Albus sat bolt upright, rubbing his eyes fiercely.

"What does she want me for?" he asked eagerly. "Is it about the Seeker position? Is it? Rose!" he slapped her on her arm. She turned around. "What did Hooch want to see me for?"

Rose shrugged. "I don't know, do I? She didn't say. Now come on!" she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him up. It took Albus a few moments to remember that he hadn't taken his uniform off last night before going to bed. His robes were crumpled from sleeping in them. Rose frowned. "And get changed, you look like you slept in a hedge". She turned on her heel, and left the boys dormitory. Looking around him, Albus noticed that the other boys were up and had already left for breakfast. He glanced at his bedside clock. It was quarter to nine.

Hurriedly, he dressed in fresh clothes and almost flew down the steps to meet Rose at the portrait hole. He now noticed that she was wearing jeans a pink fleece pullover, and her cheeks were rosy – either from the warmth of the castle or the cold outside, he couldn't tell. Together they went down for breakfast, Rose telling him that Molly was already waiting for them there.

The Great Hall was full of students chatting and laughing, food piled high on golden plates along each of the four house tables. The aroma of frying bacon met Albus' nostrils and hunger raged inside him. He flopped down between Rose and Molly, and was eagerly helping himself to sausages when Professor McGonagall appeared behind him, her expression not the look of disappointment that she had worn the previous night.

"Madame Hooch has asked me to tell you that she has decided to award you the position of Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Mr. Potter" she told him. Yes! I got it! Albus beamed, and felt his face flush with happiness. "Congratulations – I see you're quite your father's son" Professor McGonagall smiled, the skin around her eyes creasing up. "Don't forget to practice, now – keep that winning streak" and she turned and left. Albus turned back to Molly, excitement alight in his green eyes. She also wore a smile at his achievement.

"Well done, Albus. I knew you'd get it" she praised him.

"Yeah, well done. Bet Terry Parker's livid at losing the position to a first year" Molly said. Albus grimaced in mock terror. Who cared whether Terry Parker hated him or not for this? The point was, he'd got the position he'd dreamed of. Seeker! Him! It was too good be true, surely! And then his smile faded a little when a realisation hit him. He didn't have a broom.

Molly saw his disappointed expression.

"What's wrong, Albus? I thought you wanted to be a Seeker" she asked him. He shook his head.

"I don't have a broom, I won't be able to practice" he told her sadly. Molly laughed.

"You'll be able to borrow one of the school ones, silly. You can write to your parents and ask them to buy you one of your own" she explained with a smile. She was right. Why didn't he remember that? He'd used one of the school brooms in the Quidditch tryouts, of course! How could he have forgotten, when that very broom had caused him to break his arm? Albus made a mental note to practice landing properly in the future. He didn't want another breakage so quickly.

When breakfast was over Albus, Rose and Molly made their way to the library, as they had a free period and it was too cold to go outside. They found a small, rectangular table in the left corner, right next to the radiator, and sat down. The place smelled of old books and ink; to their left and front, there were rows upon rows of bookshelves stacked with all kinds of books on everything from Herbology to wizarding history to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Some were older than others, their bindings coming loose and their spines torn; others were new, the leather covers smelling fresh, and the thick parchment pages a pure, snowy white.

Rose, who had brought her bag with her, dumped it on the table and began rummaging through it, pulling miscellaneous books, quills and bottles of ink out of it and placing them on the table. Molly and Albus exchanged glances. They knew what was coming, and sure enough a few moments later Rose pulled out her copy of Hogwarts: A History Revised and packed away the rest of the debris. Albus suppressed a sigh and the urge to roll his eyes. Rose opened the book to where a torn piece of parchment was sticking out of the top about an eighth of the way through, and immediately began to read. Albus put his head on his arms and watched her, thinking. He couldn't wait to tell his father that he had been made Seeker on his house team, just like he was...he felt so proud, following in his father's footsteps the way he was. If only James had some ambition like Albus did. Then perhaps he wouldn't get into so much trouble.

He thought of his sister, Lily, who was surely missing him back home. She, like Albus had, couldn't wait to finally go to Hogwarts and learn magic. She had pestered their parents for months when James got his letter, asking them question after question about the castle, the lessons, the grounds, the teachers, the ghosts, the Black Lake, Quidditch and all manner of things connected with magic in general. She had listened avidly when his father told stories of his own adventures when he was Hogwarts, her eyes wide with amazement as he told her about the Basilisk and the Dementors and a Hippogriff named Buckbeak whom he'd saved from execution by means of a strange golden device called a Time Turner. In truth, Albus had listened to these stories with the same eagerness as his younger sister, wanting to know more about his father's school life, the bravery with which he was branded at the mere age of eleven, the age that Albus was now. But, for some reason, he'd always avoid the subject of his defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named. Whenever Lily or James or Albus asked him about how he got rid of Lord Voldemort once and for all, how he battled him year after year and still survived to tell the tale afterwards, he would clam up and refuse to tell them anything. Perhaps some of those particular memories were still painful for him to recall to this day. Or perhaps he'd had enough of people pestering him about such incidents that he had decided he wasn't going to answer their probing questions any more. Whichever it was, he never seemed to want to talk about that aspect of his younger days.

Albus looked up from his position to find Rose still engrossed in Hogwarts: A History Revised. Molly was inspecting her fingernails with a bored expression, her gaze flickering across the rows of books in somewhat distaste. A library mustn't be her kind of thing. To be honest with himself, Albus would rather be out in the open air no matter how cold it was, rather than be in a library with nothing to do while his cousin (and all too avid learner) sat and read continuously. He doubted she'd even notice if he slipped out now, stopped at the Common Room to fetch his cloak and went outside for a walk. Watching Rose Weasley read was often like sitting watching paint dry, no matter how used to it you were.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat upright and looked around, focusing on the little details of the room to pass the time. He noticed how, near the skirting board, the planks of wood which made up the walls was worn and gritty; how the hum of the pipes beneath the radiator was unnecessarily loud; how the white paint of the ceiling was in fact not white at all, more a murky cream; and how the bookends on each of the shelves had almost all toppled over, sending the neatly stacked row of books over onto each other like a set of dominoes which had been flicked. Looking at the library more closely now, he'd rather sit in the Common Room and watch the flames of the fire dance in the grate while the wind blew sharply outside. But, he put up with it so as not to put Rose in a bad mood. He could tell that Molly was thinking the same things as he was, but putting up with it also because Rose was her friend. He caught her eye now, and she rolled her eyes and grimaced. Albus snorted, and Rose looked up and frowned at him. Molly raised an eyebrow, and stuck her tongue at Rose's back. Albus laughed, his mind not entirely thinking on the consequences if he angered his cousin whilst she was trying to read. Rose looked up again, her glare more displeased than before.

"What's so funny?" she snapped. Molly and Albus exchanged another glance.

"Nothing" Molly shrugged. "Just thought of a joke" Albus nodded his agreement, pretending he had been thinking the same thing. Rose huffed and returned to her book.

Extremely bored, Albus turned his gaze to the window which he could see between two bookcases on his left. Outside, the sky was grey and dark, the Quidditch stadium an ominous silhouette against the thick cloud. He couldn't tell, but it must have been raining outside as with the banging of the wind against the glass came tiny tinkling sounds, like someone was throwing fistfuls of small stones at the windows. He hoped it wouldn't be like this when he had Quidditch practice; the last thing he needed was to break both his legs because his broom had been blown off course. It was a distinct possibility with him, after all. His mother had always told him he was clumsy when it came to these things, particularly when he was younger and always falling over things. He remembered a specific time when he had fallen at school and sprained his ankle, and his mother had come to fetch him almost laughing because she knew how clumsy he could be. Not that Albus had found it funny; he'd had to walk with crutches for two weeks and have his foot bandaged so it looked like he'd had his foot amputated and replaced with the foot of a particularly large polar bear. He couldn't wait to fly again, to be up in the air with the wind racing past him. Flying was in his genes, passed down from his grandfather and his father. It was in his blood. He had no reason to worry about making a fool of himself at all.

He didn't know about the other teams, though. He didn't know who the other Seekers were – and who he would have to face in his first Quidditch match. He hoped it wasn't someone like Terry Parker – a jealous loser. In fact, he hadn't given the other teams much thought. He'd have to ask Madame Hooch how the matches worked, though he knew that every year Hogwarts held a Quidditch Tournament and the victorious team won the Quidditch Cup. When his father had been on the team, Gryffindor had won the cup three times. He hoped he could uphold the tradition.

His gaze returned to the table where he sat. He was surprised to see that Rose had stopped reading her beloved book and was hastily scribbling something on a scrap of parchment. Molly was tapping her foot on the floorboards. Still the wind howled against the windows, and the rain came down even heavier than before. Not particularly good flying conditions Albus thought. I still hope we can practice tonight. Rose finished writing and looked up, folding the parchment in half and sliding it into her pocket. Albus and Molly were looking at her.

"What?" she asked. They both shook their heads.

"Come on, then. You've finished, haven't you? I want to back to the Common Room and that essay done for Flitwick" Molly got up from her chair all too quickly, zipping up her jacket. Rose followed. Albus was last to leave the rectangular corner table, perfectly comfortable sitting in the warm whilst the rain lashed outside. He hoped it would dry up in time for Quidditch practice; he would have no hope of even catching a glimpse of the tiny golden Snitch in this current weather.

Sometime during that afternoon, Victoire came up to Albus with a message for him.

"Madame Hooch told me to tell you that Gryffindor's first practice session is tonight at six o'clock , down on the Quidditch pitch" she explained, flicking a stray strand of her long, silvery blonde hair over one shoulder. Her Head Girl badge shone on her robes where it was pinned just above the Gryffindor crest.

"Thanks, Victoire" Albus replied. "I'll be there"

Saturday evening came all too quickly, and it before Albus knew it, it was six o'clock and he was grabbing his broomstick from the large wooden cupboard in the changing rooms. He met Madame Hooch and the other players on the team on the pitch, just as he had done during Quidditch tryouts. He recognised a few of the faces there; Amanda Braithwate, a dark-haired boy and the honey blond male who had hoped to be a Beater. He did not, however, recognize the other three players standing in a close group near Madame Hooch. He certainly hadn't seen them the night of the tryouts. Two were girls, each with the same thick curly hair, and the third was another boy, slightly taller than Albus was with dark skin. He guessed that the two females were around fifth year; the male only in his second.

"Oh, good, Albus, you're here" Madame Hooch waved him over. "This is Albus Potter; our new Seeker" she addressed the rest of the team. He noticed that they were already dressed in scarlet and gold Gryffindor robes. Two of the boys carried Beater's bats. Amanda Braithwate held the Quaffle under one arm.

"Now, we won't be getting into any serious training tonight – that work will start next practice. Tonight, we'll just see how everyone fits in, so everyone get into a group over there" Madame Hooch told them, her yellow catlike eyes following Albus as he nervously joined the others. Amanda caught his eye and smiled. He returned the gesture, though his heart was in his mouth. He watched as Madame Hooch opened the trunk containing the three types of playing balls – only the two Bludgers, fighting to be freed of their leather restraints, and the golden Snitch remained inside.

"Remember, we do have an important match in four weeks time, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The opening match of the season. We want to win the Tournament this year, or it'll give Professor Slughorn yet another excuse as to why Slytherins should be given second chances" Madame Hooch told them. "Right, Amanda, Jack, Peter – mount your brooms; the rest of you do the same" The dark-haired male, Amanda and the short, black boy walked forward.

Returning to the Gryffindor Common Room an hour later, Albus was exhausted. Madame Hooch had made him fly around the pitch countless times in search of the tiny Golden Snitch, and four out of every five times he caught the speeding winged ball within mere minutes of setting off. Now, he was tired and ached all over. He wanted nothing more than to fall straight to sleep.

Shrugging off his cloak, he slumped into one of the squashy armchairs by the fire. Quite a few pairs of curious eyes followed him as he did so, but he chose to ignore them. He rested his head against the back of the chair, flexing his right arm carefully. It felt fine now. The Hogwarts matron really could work wonders. The glass face of his watch caught his eye. The slowly turning hands showed him it was ten past seven. Outside, the sky had darkened to almost black and through the roar of the orange flames in the grate he could hear the howling of the wind. He had always had good eyesight and, if he squinted, he could just make out the towering spectators stands of the Quidditch stadium not far ahead. He couldn't wait until the impending match against Slytherin, however nervous he may be. To be up in the air, speeding through the sky not only just for leisure but to compete, to winsomething...he had thought flying for the first time at the age of seven had been extraordinary. But winning with it, too? He had only heard storied of his father's victory as Seeker for the Gryffindor team, and how lovely it sounded too! And hopefully, in a few years' time, he too would wear the glimmering gold badge on his scarlet Quidditch robes declaring him team Captain of Gryffindor...

Albus was broken from his reverie when a shadow fell across his vision. A shadow that was short, redheaded and freckled.

"Hi, Rose" he told her, grinning. She sat on the arm of the chair beside him.

"How did practice go?" she asked him immediately.

"It was great. Fantastic to get to fly again" he said. "Where's Molly?" Rose's face fell.

"Hospital wing. She tripped over the statue of the One-Eyed Witch and sprained her ankle" Rose smiled, and then her expression suddenly became serious. Albus frowned. She moved from her position on the arm of the chair and sat beside him, her brow furrowed.

"I saw Scorpius in the library today" she said sternly. It took a few moments for Albus to catch on.

"How's his nose?" he finally asked her.

"Fine, now the bruising has gone down" Rose answered stiffly. Albus sensed that she wasn't quite ready to forgive him for punching him. "He said he wants to speak to you, personally" she added. "To apologise."

Albus took a moment to register this information.

"Oh" he said. "Well, um, what did you tell him?" he asked, swallowing hard. She looked at him carefully before replying.

"I told him you should learn to control your temper, actually" she answered, rather pompously. Albus thought he saw her nose turn upwards with dissatisfaction. He didn't know what to say to this, so instead he stammered,

"But what did you, um, say about me apologising?"

She gave him an odd look. Albus was very aware of the other, older students around them; he felt as if each pair of eyes in the room were on him and Rose. Well, Rose not so much. She didn't have the shadow of an incredibly famous father to live under.

"I didn't" she told him. Her voice was rather pointed, and he could tell that she did not want to be having this conversation with him.

"What am I supposed to do then? I won't see him again until..." Albus scanned through his timetable mentally quickly "second lesson on Wednesday morning, that's Transfiguration with the Slytherins. All our classes are with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw before that." Rose, however, remained adamant.

"Then you'll go and find him in your own time. You've got the whole weekend to apologise; you could look in the library, he's often in there" she said, her voice hard. Her freckled face had taken on the expression of someone talking to a naughty child, or someone who was failing to see the obvious.

"How do you know?" Albus spluttered. The words simply slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, and were a little more accusing than he would have liked them to be. In the firelight of the common room, Rose turned pink and looked away, pretending to be fixing a loose thread on her sleeve.

"Me?" she blinked, absent-minded. "Oh, I've spoken to him a couple of times when I've seen him in there. We're friends." Her blush deepened, and Albus decided not to press the matter.

*

It was on Sunday morning - after being forced into the library for a good hour by Rose in order to finish an essay set for them by Professor Slughorn - that Albus found Scorpius. He was sitting outside under an elm tree, reading the kind of large tome that Rose would have relished. The torrential downpour and high winds had stopped and the sun had come out, bathing the grounds of the castle in a pleasant warmth. From the direction in which he stood, Albus could see the flags atop the spectators' stands of the Quidditch pitch fluttering in a light breeze.

At first, he did not know what to say to Scorpius. What should he say? Sorry for breaking his nose, or for misunderstanding the situation? Or perhaps both? He was dawdling, dragging his feet in the still dewy grass, when Rose poked him hard in the small of the back and told him to get on with it. Albus quickly obeyed, and both girls hung back whilst he walked up to the blond boy sitting under the almost-bare tree.

Scorpius looked up as soon as he heard Albus coming, and put down his book. Albus read the title; Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Practical Guide by Athena Merryweather. He had never heard of it.

"Can I talk to you?" Albus asked. Scorpius nodded, and smiled; two rows of perfectly white teeth came into view. He stood up, his book under his arm, and Albus immediately felt awkward – Scorpius was much shorter than him, the top of his head just level with Albus' chest. He glanced round, and saw Rose and Molly standing a short way back, talking. He caught Rose's eye, and she waved her arm in a gesture which said Just do it!

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Scorpius' voice came into Albus' hearing range, and he looked down at him. He noticed that the bruising on his face had almost completely disappeared, with only a little purplish shadow still visible around the bridge of his nose.

"I wanted to say sorry" Albus started, "for hitting you before. I didn't meant it, I just kind of –"

"Jumped to conclusions?" Scorpius finished his sentence for him, but there was no displeasure or malice in his face; in fact, he was grinning. He flicked his fringe out of his eyes and looked up at Albus.

"It doesn't matter, I would have been pretty mad if it was me. But what I said, I didn't meant it. Honestly. I was only saying that stuff because Esmeralda was there" he explained. "My parents might have put their prejudices behind them but her family – well, they haven't. Esmeralda doesn't want me to be friends with you, said it's a bad influence. But I didn't listen, and she got angry with me. So I said that stuff to convince her, to make it look like she'd persuaded me" he told Albus, who nodded to show that he understood. "And" Scorpius went on "I would like it a lot if we could be friends."

"Me too" Albus admitted. To his surprise, Scorpius had been extremely understanding; he had been half-expecting a grudge on his hands at least. Not being able to keep a straight face, he smiled back and Scorpius extended a hand, which Albus then shook as a sign of friendship.

"I think Rose wants us to go back to the library to finish off some homework. Want to come with us?" Albus offered.

"Okay" was the reply.

An hour later the four of them found themselves sitting at a table by the window, hidden out of the sight of the eagle-eyed librarian Madam Pince by a good three rows of bookshelves. They had since finished the work they had needed to do and the conversation had turned to their lives back home, outside of Hogwarts. Rose and Albus were busy explaining their extremely large family to the other two – which consisted of about a dozen aunts and uncles and almost three times as many cousins – when a tall, very pale girl with long black hair came up to their table and spoke to Scorpius.

"I have a message for you from Madam Hooch" the girl announced, flicking a long black strand of hair from her face.

"What is it?" Scorpius asked her.

"She has told me to tell you that you've made the Quidditch team. Seeker. Congratulations, Scorpius" the girl said. Albus' breathing stopped for a minute. Since when did Scorpius Malfoy try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team? Albus had watched their tryout from the window of Gryffindor Tower; he didn't recall spotting a small, slight figure amongst the older applicants. He gaped, wide-eyed, at Scorpius as he beamed with clear delight. The girl left, her dark hair fanning out behind her.

Molly turned to Albus.

"But aren't you the Gryffindor Seeker?" she asked him. It was Scorpius' turn to gawp.

"Yeah. I am. I didn't know you flew too!" he told Scorpius, who was sitting opposite him.

"Not very often, I don't. I can't, see, because it's too conspicuous. There isn't much land for me to fly in, only a small field at the back of our house. I have to keep a close eye out for planes and stuff" he explained. "But I do fly. Of course, I suppose flying comes naturally for you, being a Potter and all" he added. Albus' surprise at his knowledge must have shown on his face because Scorpius then said, "My dad told me", as if that would clear things up.

"Who was that girl, anyway?" Rose interjected, steering the two boys away from a conversation which would almost definitely involve broomsticks, a Quaffle and the Golden Snitch.

"Oh, that's just one of my cousins though we're only related by marriage. Her father is my uncle's – Esmeralda's dad – brother. A lot of families are related like that" Scorpius answered. Indeed, he was right; with his mother having so many brothers, it was not just the Potters and the Weasleys who were related; but a whole raft of other wizarding families that Albus was always forgetting the names of.

"I know what you mean" Albus replied. "My family's huge. Absolutely enormous, because my mum has five brothers, one of which is Rose's dad." Rose nodded her agreement.

"It can be quite confusing, keeping track of them all!" she laughed.