Chapter 11-The Apple Doesn't Fall Far

A/N: AN at end…

**Disclaimer** Some scenes from this chapter are taken directly from PoA, and we own nothing.

Al slung his heavy bag over his shoulder and continued walking with Draco to the Dungeons. It was Thursday, the first day Draco was back after his injury. They were having double potions with the Gryffindores and Albus was excited at the prospect of being taught by one of his namesakes. If this person was the bravest man his father ever knew, Al couldn't wait to be taught by him. Potions are his strongest subject and he was eager to make a good impression.

Draco was droning on about something that Al was only half-listening to. It was only when a pair of pale fingers snapped in front of his face that Al realized Draco was trying to get his attention.

"What? Sorry."

Draco rolled his eyes impatiently. "Did you even hear a word that I said?"

"Er…somewhat."

Draco sighed. "Fine whatever. If you want to freeze then it's not my problem…"

That caught Al's attention. "Wait, did you say freeze?"

"So now you listen…"

"OK, I'm sorry, I'm listening now. What were you saying about freezing?"

Draco stopped walking and turned. "What I was saying was that the dungeons are very cold. You don't stay down there with us as much, so you wouldn't really know. In first year Professor Snape taught us all self-warming charms so we wouldn't be cold all the time."

Al was impressed. "Wow. I thought that was fourth year magic?"

Smugly, Draco replied, "It is. But Snape would come every once in a while and practice with us. Here."

Taking out his wand, Draco moved it vertically down Al's body while murmuring some words. Albus felt instant warmth spread over him, much like a heated blanket clinging to his body.

"Woah!"

"I know, cool right? The best part is being nice and warm while all the other Gryffindorks are huddled close to their cauldrons for warmth. Let's get to class. You need to see the way Snape treats the Gryffindores. It's hilarious!"

After a pause, Draco said, "So will you be eating with the rest of the Slytherins and I in the Great Hall today?"

Al hesitated. "Um, I don't think today would be good," said Al, thinking of his family and Sirius. Draco scowled, but didn't comment on the issue any further.

Pansy Parkinson caught up with them a few seconds later. She started fussing over Draco's arm. Draco pretended to be pained, but Al could tell he was enjoying the attention immensely.

"Guys," interrupted Al. "We're going to be late! I think class already started."

Pansy smirked and Draco gave a knowing smile. "We're Slytherins, Al. Snape never stakes points from us."

Finally, they reached the doors of the forbidding dungeons for Potions. "How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy, hovering over his bandaged arm. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Draco through his brave sort of grimace. Pansy's eyes widened in sympathy, but when she looked away, Draco winked at Al.

"Settle down, settle down," said a cold, baritone voice at the end of the classroom. Suddenly, Al would much rather sit down and draw as little attention as possible than be under Snape's cruel gaze. He slid into the seat next to Draco, who was sitting by Al's dad and Uncle Ron.

Al glued his green eyes determinedly to the table, but he could practically feel the Professor's gaze burning a hole on the top of his head. The class had gone oddly silent and Al didn't quite know why. He dared look up. Snape was indeed, as he guessed, glaring at him for some unknown reason.

Finally, he said, "I am so honored to be graced with your presence, Mr…"

"Bus," whispered Al, remembering the name he gave Draco and Sirius: Al Bus.

Snape's face twisted into a cruel sort of smirk. "Bus. Well, Mr. Bus…since you apparently feel like you are above everyone else in this classroom, I assume it is because you already know the material?"

Al was, in a word, shocked. He certainly did not think of himself above others! Who did this man think he was? Snape leaned in closer.

"I do not take kindly to people walking in late, Mr. Bus, especially when that person is new at Hogwarts. Think you can just do as you please, hm?"

Al felt Draco wince slightly in sympathy next to him. Most of the other students looked amazed as well. Some were sharing glances to one another. It was obvious that no Slytherin had ever been spoken to by Professor Snape in this manner. "Tell me," he said idly. "What are the main ingredients in Gregory's Unctuous Unction?"

Al's mouth almost dropped open. That wasn't third year standards! Aunt 'Mione, who was sitting behind him, was the only one who wasn't looking uncertain. Al was furious. He was named after this guy? But—wait! He knew this! He read about it while flipping through some of Teddy's old potion books. Hesitantly he said, "Scurvy grass, flobberworm mucus, and…Jobberknoll feathers?" It came out sounding more like a question, but there was no doubt that his classmates were impressed.

Snape was regarding him with an unreadable mask. Al knew that he was right, but after a while he was starting to feel as though his answer was wrong. Suddenly, Snape snapped, "What are the chief ingredients in Garroting Gas?"

Ok, that was unfair! He already answered one question right, why was he being forced to answer more questions that were far more advanced?

"Powdered graphorn, leech juice, rat spleens and…scarab beetle."

Draco's eyes widened in an impressed way, and Al suddenly felt very proud of himself. Snape was still looking at him with his unreadable mask, and Al's breath caught in his throat. He knows…. the way Snape looked at Al… he knew something.

"Very good," Snape said quietly. "Five points to Slytherin. The rest of you, let this be an example."

Draco grinned and nudged him under the table in a "good job" kind of way. Al smiled in spite of himself.

And James always makes fun of me for my love of potions…take that!

That day they were working on a shrinking solution. Because of being picked on by Snape, it was just starting to dawn on Al that he would be working at the same table as his young Dad and Uncle Ron. Once everyone started, Draco took a moment to turn to Al.

"Why didn't you tell me you were so good at potions?" he demanded, sounding slightly offended that Al didn't share this tidbit of information.

"What? Oh…I didn't really think it was that big a deal. I just like potions. They, uh, have really good potions classes at Durmstrang."

Draco shrugged. "Well, either way, now I know who's going to help me with my potions assignments…."

Al nodded absentmindedly and began his potion. All he really wanted to do was talk to his dad. He kept on sending Harry inconspicuous glances when no one was looking. However, this would probably not bode well with Draco and Al didn't want to risk being enemies with the person who was assigned to be his guide.

It wasn't long before Draco called out, "Sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —"

"I'll do it for you—hugh!" Al's offer to help cut up the daisy roots was abruptly cut off when he received a hard elbow in the gut and a clear warning glare from Draco.

"Shut up!" he hissed at Al, then, "Sir, my arm is throbbing terribly—"

Without even looking up, Snape commanded, "Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him."

Ron turned very red. He turned to Draco and hissed, "There's nothing wrong with your arm!"

Al was inclined to agree. His throbbing side was proof.

Draco just smirked. "You heard the man, Weasley. Get chopping!"

"Really, Draco, I don't mind cutting up the roots…" started Al.

Ron looked up at Al hopefully but Draco just glared. "No, I want Weasley to do it."

If anything, this made Ron even angrier. Al watched as he seized his knife, pulled Draco's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes. Somehow, Al did not think of this as a very wise decision. He was proven right when Draco once again drawled, "Professor, Weasley's mutilating my roots, Sir."

Snape approached their table. Al felt himself shrink a little when he was victim with another one of Snape's glares. The Potions Master stared down his hooked nose at the roots, and then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But, sir —!"

Al was indignant on his uncle's behalf. He had watched as Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.

"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice that made Al shiver.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Draco, and then took up the knife again.

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Draco, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry a look of loathing. Al was gob-smacked. Was his father suffering a mental illness when he names his youngest son? No matter this man was brave, Snape seemed nothing short of pure evil.

"Draco," said Al, a bit shocked. "I can skin your shrivelfig, really. I'm almost done. You don't need to—"

But he was cut off again as Draco rounded on him. "What has gotten into you? This is funny." The way Draco said "funny" sounded as though he was trying to force the word into Al's belief system.

Ron and Harry were now staring at the pair in interest. Clearly, Draco was not used to people having different plans from his own. Not wanting to cause any trouble, get anymore points taken (even if it was from Slytherin), or get in a fight with his guide, Al clamped his mouth shut. He sent Harry and Ron apologetic looks. Harry shrugged indifferently, and Ron just continued to look peeved. Reluctantly, Al returned to his own potion.

Harry took Draco's shrivelfig as Ron began trying to repair the damage to the roots he now had to use. Harry skinned the shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Draco without speaking. Draco was smirking more broadly than ever and Al felt a strong surge of annoyance at Draco for the way he treated Al's family.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" Draco asked them quietly. Al blanched. He was horrified when he found out that Draco was trying to get Hagrid fired. Of course, being from the future, Al knew that Hagrid's job was secure, but the intention was just plain cruel and vile. Hagrid was his friend and it had taken all of Albus Potter's self control to not hex Draco. Living with James gave you a lot of self-control.

"None of your business," said Ron jerkily, without looking up.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," said Draco in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury —"

"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury," snarled Ron.

Go Uncle Ron! Cheered Al silently.

"– he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this" — he gave a huge, fake sigh — "who knows if my arm will ever be the same again?"

In that moment, Al was so tempted to throw his whole cover about the future and tell Draco exactly how it is. How the Malfoys fell from grace. How whenever somebody mentions the once powerful family, the first thing they think is Death Eaters. And how he had better be prepared for when that time comes.

Instead, he took a deep breath and kept his focus on his work, although his ears were sharply listening to the conversation next to him. Suddenly, with a sense of great clarity, he realized.

"So that's why you're putting it on," said Al, as Harry accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because he was shaking in anger, "To try to get Hagrid fired."

They all looked at him. Ron in disbelief and then realization, Harry in anger and indignation, and Draco in smugness. It seemed as though the young Pureblood took Al's reaction as idolization similar to what he often received from other Slytherins.

"Well," said Draco, with a significant tone. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "partly. But there are other benefits too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."

A few cauldrons away, Neville Longbottom was in trouble. The potion, which was supposed to turn an acid green color, was turning-

"Orange, Longbottom!" said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears. In that moment, all Al really wanted to do was go over and comfort the pudgy boy, but he did not think that that would bode well in the current situation.

"Please, sir," said Aunt Hermione from behind them, "please, I could help Neville put it right —"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Honestly. How could Albus ever have been named after this cold, cruel, greasy git?

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

"Hey, Harry," said a boy with an Irish accent, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

Al gasped loudly and let the knife in his hand slip from his now-numb fingers. It felt like the whole world was tilting. Sirius Black! His father's godfather! The boy who was just a few floors above them, with Teddy. What did he mean: 'been sighted'?

Ron, Draco, and the Irish boy all turned to look at him sharply. Draco gave him a quizzing look but Al just regained composure and waved an airy hand.

"Sorry…just caught a little off guard is all." Luckily the conversation turned back to the matter at hand.

"Where?" said Harry and Ron quickly. Draco was leaning in closely to hear better.

"Not too far from here," said the Irish boy, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here…" Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry. He turned around and saw Draco watching closely. "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?"

But Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harry. He leaned across the table.

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Harry offhandedly, and Al had to admire his father's cool head.

Draco's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile. At that moment, all Al really wanted to do was smack that smile right off his face and—

"Of course, if it was me," Draco said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

Al desperately tried to catch his father's eye and kept on giving small jerks of the head: no.

But Harry didn't notice.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.

"Don't you know, Potter?" breathed Malfoy, his pale eyes narrowed.

Oh no. Oh no oh no. ohno ohno ohno oh—

"Know what?"

Don't say it. Merlin, Draco, just shut up!

Draco let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it were me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry angrily.

Al didn't think it was possible, but he was quite relived that at that moment Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's…"

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see. Aunt Hermione was the kind of person who would always help another human being during their time of need. That's why she was Al's favorite Aunt, and Rose was his favorite cousin. The mother-daughter duo were very much alike, so they were told.

Everyone packed away their unused ingredients and Al watched as Harry and Ron went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

Al seized this opportunity to speak to Draco.

"Draco."

"What?"

"I don't think you should tell Da-Potter about Sirius Black."

Draco's smirk grew very wide. "Oh? And why is that?"

"I just…it's just…I don't think that—"

Draco laughed loudly. "Don't strain yourself too much, mate! You might burst a vein."

Thoroughly offended, Albus stopped talking when Ron and Harry came back. One way or another, Albus was going to make Draco stop treating people like dirt.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors (and Al) watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down the toad's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which the toad gulped; then there was a small pop, and there was a tadpole wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Al was about to clap as well, but then remembered whom he was standing by. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of the toad, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed. Mr. Bus, stay behind please."

Draco and the rest of his Slytherin "friends" shot him confused looks before shrugging and walking out the door. Al hoped that at least Draco would wait for him. Tensing, Albus slowly walked towards the Potions Master, feeling very ominous. Snape leaned in close, and Al resisted a shiver as he looked into Snape's cold, black eyes.

"I was observing you today, Mr. Bus," he said, and Albus gulped. Observing? Why? Snape continued. "I noticed that your potion was quite impressive."

Al felt relief flooding through him. He wasn't here to be punished, he was being congratulated! However, the solace that was warming his heart evaporated completely when Snape said, "and I must say that I do not tolerate cheating in my classroom."

I'm sorry, but what?

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand—"

"You understand perfectly well, Mr. Bus."

There was a way about the tone Snape used to say Al's name that made him feel as if it were some sort of inside joke on Snape's part.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir, I really d-don't u-understand what you mean…" Great. He was stuttering again. It was a horrible habit that cropped up whenever he was feeling nervous about something, or lying.

"What I mean is that I don't know what type of Potions class they offer you at…Durmstrang," Snape's lip curled unpleasantly and Al shivered a little. "But I am very sure that no one who has ever had a Potions class here at Hogwarts School could accurately create such a potion. You cheated off Mr. Malfoy."

Albus was so outraged because he was being accused of cheating, that he completely forgot about his fear of the ominous Potions Master.

"I did not cheat!"

The Potions Master bared his teeth and leaned in close. Their faces were merely inches apart. They were so close that Al could see all the tiny bumps on his face and smell his stale breath.

"Do-not-lie-to-me."

This brought back Al's fear in full force. If there was one thing he hated, it was being called a liar, but be didn't dare contradict this very scary, scary man. This man who obviously hated him for some reason.

Al nodded his head in a jerky movement. Snape leaned back (much to Al's relief) and said, "Now, some teachers may be as daft as to take points from their own House, but I am not one of them. I will not, however, hesitate to give you a detention. Is that understood?"

Miraculously, Al managed another jerky nod and a "Y-y-yes, S-Sir."

"Leave."

Al didn't need to be told twice.

A/N: Thanks for all the favorites/alerts/reviews, guys! It makes us feel all warm and bubbly inside. All right, so in a lot of reviews some of you mentioned how our ANs and Disclaimers are a little childish, and we hear you. So we'll be making sure to be a bit more…professional. Also, we've looked back at some of our older chapters, and we cringe. We've caught a lot of mistakes we made while rushing, so Gred and Forge will be going back to edit them.

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