~*Chapter 11*~
Plots and Preparations
Vincent put the plan into motion immediately. If he had any hope of learning the secret of the Room of Requirement, Rose's idea was the best one. He stopped coming to study sessions with Al and his friends and instead was found in the company of James and the Weasley siblings more and more often.
Al had to admit he was a bit stung, even though they'd all agreed to the plan. Watching Vincent laugh and joke with his brother in the dining hall and common room made him feel very left out. He'd become accustomed to Vincent being a part of his own circle of friends. It was also a sharp reminder that Vincent was older and more popular. Even some of the fifth years seemed to know and like Vincent, and they could be seen talking with him in the hallways in between classes. Perhaps they always had, Al reflected, and he just hadn't noticed. But now that Vincent was pretending to have lost interest in Al and the other second-years, Al could barely even receive a return wave or smile when they passed each other. It felt like Vincent had well and truly cut ties with the lot of them.
"He just has to make sure he gets close to James and the others," Felicia said quietly one day, correctly reading his expression and gauging his mood. She was, Al reflected absently, getting a little too good at that. He'd thought only Rose so capable of understanding his unspoken thoughts. She'd be reading his mind by fourth year at this rate.
They were finishing up dinner, and the boisterous laughter of James, Fred, and Roxanne was easy to hear even from halfway down the long table. Vincent was telling some sort of joke that had them in stitches. Al forced himself to look away.
"I know that," he answered Felicia. "I guess I'm just kind of worried he'll remember how great it is to be popular and..."
"Never acknowledge us again?" Felicia's mouth quirked in a small, brief smile. "Vincent doesn't seem like that kind of guy, Al. Anyway, they were his friends first. I think it's good that he's hanging around them again. He can be friends with you and your brother, you know."
Al opened his mouth for a sour response, then thought better of it. She was probably right. And besides, the air seemed to have cleared between them in the past week, and he had no wish to hurt her feelings again, accidentally or not.
Felicia turned in her seat to throw a nervous look towards the Slytherin table. "By the way, did you do something else to irritate Evaine? Her and her little pack keep glaring daggers at you. They've been at it for days now."
Al grimaced, but refused to turn and look. He hadn't yet told the others about the confrontation in the hall. He was still mulling it over himself. He let his eyes drift towards the ceiling, where a few ghosts were floating past, calling greetings to familiar students. It was a lucky thing there had been a ghost nearby that day, he reflected. It had at least kept Evaine's buddies from taking a crack at him.
What puzzled him the most wasn't Evaine's anger towards him. It was the fact that Scorpius had lied to his fellow Slytherins- and then disarmed Evaine when she'd tried to attack.
Perhaps he really had just wanted to protect his House. If Evaine's jinx had landed and the ghost had reported it, Slytherin would have lost points and Gryffindor might have tried to retaliate. Scorpius had been acting pragmatically. It didn't make him Al's friend.
That explained why he'd stopped Evaine, but it didn't necessarily explain why he'd lied about what they'd been talking about. Al felt his mouth pull into a frown. But then, the reason for that might actually be pretty obvious. Scorpius didn't want to be seen with Al. He'd been making that clear all year. And he definitely didn't want to lose face by talking about the possibility of teaming up in the IHCE.
Al stabbed at his roast beef petulantly. He felt as if he owed the boy for getting him out of what could have been a nasty confrontation, but since Scorpius had been doing it for purely selfish reasons, the thought of obligation rankled him.
Felicia was peering at him anxiously. "Al?"
"It's nothing." Al shrugged, trying to adopt a look of unconcern. "I had a little run-in with her in the halls. She'd probably have jinxed the hair right off my head if there hadn't been a ghost watching the whole time. She's just mad she didn't get to go through with it, I'll bet."
"Who, Engleton?" Andrew twisted around to send the girl a sharp look. "You steer clear of her, Al. She's bad news. I heard a rumor her uncle was a Death Eater."
Al and Felicia looked at him in surprise. "Where'd you hear that?"
Andrew shrugged. "I dunno. I heard it a little while ago. Some older student, I guess."
"A rumor isn't proof," Felicia pointed out, though she looked uneasy. "And that's kind of a cruel rumor; especially if it's not true."
"Still." Andrew sent Al a significant look. "You watch your back around her. Bad enough that you have to sit with Malfoy in Potions, who everyone knows comes from a line of Death Eaters. I hope you're never stupid enough to get caught alone with him. Or both of them. They're kind of buddy-buddy. I'm sure they'd both be happy to turn you into a toad if they got half a chance."
"People who thought like Voldemort hated anyone who they don't consider pureblood," Al countered. "I've never heard Scorpius bad-mouth those from Muggle backgrounds. He's like Zabini; he's a prat to everyone."
"Would you stop sticking up for him?" Andrew sounded genuinely annoyed. "It's not like he's ever been nice to you."
"I'm not-"
"Can we talk about something else?" Felicia pleaded.
Andrew let out an explosive sigh, but put up his hands in surrender. "Fine. I thought of another 'S' spell for our list." He paused. "The list we're never gonna be able to practice if Vincent doesn't con the location for the Room of Requirement from your brother."
"He's working on it." Al glanced down the table where Vincent and Fred were bent over a piece of parchment, snickering over whatever was written on it.
"He looks less like he's trying to get information and more like he's planning a prank with his bestest chums," Andrew drawled. "But whatever. I say if he doesn't find out about the room before the holidays, we find somewhere else to practice. Otherwise we won't have enough time to practice a decent amount before the competition."
"Well, where else could we practice where we wouldn't be interrupted?"
They spent most of the rest of the evening trying to think of a good place. For half the time Al found himself privately wondering if Vincent would even be interested in helping them with the spells, now that he was firmly in James's group of friends again.
Scorpius never brought up the incident with Evaine, and so Al took a cue from him and let the matter lie. He'd already determined that Scorpius's actions had been an attempt to save himself and his House further shame, so what was the point in broaching the subject?
Their truce in class continued, but Al no longer made any attempts to speak with him alone, much less mention the IHCE again. Scorpius might not even want to participate, as he'd already said, so Al resigned himself to the very real threat that he may end up on a team with a Slytherin who might try to jinx him when no one was looking.
The professors, Rose had suggested shrewdly, might even match seemingly incompatible students together deliberately in an attempt to force them to learn to work together.
That won't work if I end up with someone like Evaine, Al thought with a wince as he carefully dropped delicate fly wings into his potion. She'll turn me to stone the instant there aren't any witnesses around.
"Hurry up with those wings."
Jerked from his thoughts, Al handed over the little bottle of fly wings.
Scorpius stared at the bottle for a moment, frowning, then upended it onto the desk. Four pathetic tiny wings fluttered out. Al stared at the wings wordlessly. The potion required six. Al's potion was coming along decently, but if Scorpius's failed, they both would.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
Scorpius shot him a narrow look, but didn't reply. He cast his eyes over the other ingredients, then selected a jar of dragonfly wings.
"Those won't work," Al protested in an undertone. "Remember when that girl tried substituting different claws last week? Her potion reeked so bad we had to evacuate the classroom."
"Shut up." Scorpius selected two of the wings, sent a wary look towards Zabini to make sure he wasn't being observed, and dug out his wand. He tapped each wing in turn, muttering a spell under his breath.
Al watched in amazement as each wing shriveled and shrank until they were exact duplicates of the fly wings.
"Wow," he murmured, unable to help himself. "You really are pretty good at Transfiguration."
Scorpius gave a sniff that somehow managed to sound smug, and added the wings to his potion.
Al watched, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. There had to be a way to convince Scorpius to try the IHCE. His magic could definitely come in handy.
The door to the dungeon slammed open, making most of the students jump. Al turned in surprise as Hagrid squeezed his great form through the door. He looked red-faced and bedraggled as if he'd been out in the cold weather all day, and he didn't even pause to smile at Al as he made a beeline for the head of the classroom.
Zabini met him halfway, his handsome face twisted in a scowl of annoyance. "Hagrid, what's the meaning of this? You're interrupting my-"
"Sorry, Professor," Hagrid said breathlessly, waving one huge hand to cut the other man off. "I need a potion."
Zabini scowled even fiercer, but led the way to his desk. Hagrid began quietly explaining his problem while Zabini collected ingredients. Al strained to hear the conversation, but even Hagrid's rumbling voice was difficult to pick up from the back of the classroom. He thought he heard the words "forest" and "flattened", but could not for the life of him imagine what the problem was.
Zabini concocted his potion with swift efficiency, and when it was done, a puff of orange smoke erupted from the top of his cauldron. Measuring out a healthy dose into a flask, he handed it to Hagrid with bad grace. Mumbling his thanks, Hagrid hurried back out of the classroom, offering only a tight, distracted smile when Al tried to catch his eye.
"What in blazes was that about?" Scorpius muttered, watching the big man struggle through the doorway once more.
Al shook his head. Hagrid rarely came up to the castle anymore, except for mealtimes. Harry had once confided that the poor man still suffered from the bad memories of the war that echoed in the halls for him. He'd seen too many students and old friends die. "Maybe something happened to one of the animals in the forest," he guessed. They both jumped as Zabini rapped a glass flask sharply with his wand.
"Quit gawking," he snapped, glaring around at his curious class. "Get your potions finished. You only have ten minutes left."
Everyone hastily returned to their work. Within minutes, Al was so intent on getting his potion correct that the strange incident was soon forgotten.
Despite their best efforts, none of them were able to think of a better place to practice, and Vincent seemed to be having no luck getting information from James. The holiday break snuck up on them, and with it came the knowledge that a return to school meant the upcoming game against Slytherin and the much-anticipated IHCE.
Al spent the whole train ride home and much of the first afternoon stressing about it. It wasn't until Lily, who'd been looking forward to her brothers' trip home, finally complained about his dark mood that he was able to draw himself out of his funk. He told himself firmly not to think about school at all, and was able to enjoy the holidays so long as he pretended there wasn't a potentially bone-breaking Quidditch game in his near future.
With so many people in and out of the house, it was an easy enough thing to forget. The Weasley family was there quite often, and Teddy, Hagrid, and McGonagall were all scheduled to make brief visits on Christmas day. Even their stand-offish uncle Dudley gave them a call and let them speak to their Muggle cousins.
With so many young witches and wizards in one place, spur-of-the-moment Quidditch games in the backyard were a common occurrence. It was a relief for Al to spend time playing the game just for fun again, without the pressure of the whole school watching. He even got to play Keeper some of the time, though keeping Roxie and her brother from scoring turned out to be nigh impossible.
Al got many gifts, but was surprised by one of them.
James had been going through the gifts sent to him from school friends via owl, and after opening one lumpy package, dug out a smaller bundle and tossed it at him distractedly. "Here, this one's got your name on it."
Al barely managed to catch the shoddily-wrapped gift in his free hand. He carefully set aside the telescope his mother had gotten him- it supposedly could pick out the stars in the sky clear as anything, even on a cloudy night or during the day –and checked the small tag. He recognized the slanted handwriting from study sessions instantly.
To: Al
From: Vincent
Heard that ninny Evaine's giving you grief for breathing up all her precious oxygen.
Use this if she's ever dumb enough to try something. She'll never see it coming!
Happy holidays
Al tore open the flimsy paper and found himself staring in puzzlement at the present within.
"What'd you get?" Lily asked, leaning over for a look.
Al stroked Trinity absently as the cat invited herself into his lap. "I'm not sure." He held the strange object up for her perusal.
Lily wrinkled her nose, clearly baffled. "It's a... forked stick?"
Harry looked over, saw the toy, and barked a laugh. "It's a slingshot," he explained, reaching over to take the toy with a grin. "A Muggle toy." He demonstrated, and Al jumped slightly when the rubber band snapped. "You put something like a rock here in the pouch and fire it at something. I made one out of a stick once and used to try knocking cans off the fence. I was going to use it against Dudley once my aim improved, but Aunt Petunia caught me practicing and threw it in the fireplace."
"Which I'll do if you're foolish enough to try bringing that to school to use on someone," Ginny said from where she was seated under the tree, wrapping a new scarf around her neck. "You'll put someone's eye out if you're not careful."
Harry suppressed a grin as he returned the toy. "She's right, you know. I'm sure your friend figured no one would confiscate it at Hogwarts because most wizards wouldn't know what it is. But it can be dangerous."
Al caught himself exchanging a swift, sly look with his brother. The temptation was almost too much. The thought of being able to bean Evaine in the back of the head without her knowing what had caused it... and without any hint of a spell to alert the ghosts or professors...
He made a mental note to pack the slingshot in his bag. Just in case.
He quickly changed the subject, hoping his parents would forget about the toy. "Hey, what ever happened with that Death Eater Aunt Hermione was investigating out in that village? Vincent said he saw an article in the Daily Prophet about it awhile back."
Harry's smile faded. "Alleged Death Eater." He set Lily on his knee, handing her a candy cane. She tolerated the affection, perhaps knowing that her parents were coddling their youngest child before she was old enough to attend Hogwarts and was too big for such things. "The witch in question wasn't on any of our lists of possible or known Death Eaters, and so far as we could tell, she had no familial ties to any, either. It was probably just a neighbor feud that got out of hand."
"The poor old dear was understandably upset about the whole thing," Ginny sighed. "Supposedly she packed up and moved right after the investigation."
"I wouldn't want to live next to someone who accused me of being a Death Eater, either," Al said.
But James was frowning. "She left? Doesn't that just make her seem more suspicious?"
"Her neighbor was trying to get her thrown into Azkaban," Al protested. "Everyone in the neighborhood would probably talk about her behind her back for the rest of her life. Makes sense to me that she moved."
"I thought all the Death Eaters were gone," Lily said, eyes wide.
Harry and Ginny exchanged a quick look. Some of Harry's stories had given Lily awful nightmares when she was little, a fact that James had teased her mercilessly about for some time. It was an unspoken rule that Voldemort and Death Eaters were a taboo subject around Lily until she was older.
"Never mind all that," Ginny said briskly, climbing to her feet and clapping her hands sharply. "Everyone tidy up your wrapping paper and presents. Ron and Hermione will be here in an hour. If you two want to play Quidditch before we eat, I want all your stuff put away neatly."
"I want to play, too!" Lily slid off her father's lap and ran over to snatch up the practice broom her parents had gifted her. With both her brothers on the school Quidditch team, it had been inevitable. She'd harassed her mother for a broom of her own for the last three months. "I have a broom now."
James rolled his eyes. "You don't even know how to use it."
"There's an idea." Harry got to his feet, collecting crumpled wrapping paper. "The two of you can teach your sister how to use it while you're waiting for your cousins to get here."
James grimaced, but Lily looked so excited even he didn't complain. They gathered their loot, stashed it in their rooms, and followed their sister outside with their own brooms.
"I'm gonna be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year," she boasted as she clumsily straddled the little broom. She ran around in a wide circle, as if waiting for lift-off. "They should just make the whole team Potters an' Weasleys! We'll waste Slytherin!"
James couldn't help but give a short laugh. "There's an idea." He reached out and stopped her as she waddled awkwardly past him on her circuit. "Stop that. Just push off from the ground. These kid brooms are even easier than regular wizard brooms. It'll take off when you want it to."
Lily obeyed, a little overenthusiastically, and bobbed up into the air with a lurch that almost unseated her. She clutched at the little broom, huddling over it and staring down in fascination at the way her feet dangled just off the ground. "I'm doing it!" she squealed. "Look! Al, look!"
Al carefully straightened her, pushing her into an upright position. "There. A family of flyers. Slytherin beware." He exchanged a quick grin with his brother.
Lily wobbled for a moment, then began bouncing on the broom, nearly falling off again. "Higher!"
"It's a training broom for little kids, you dork," James sighed. "It doesn't fly anywhere, it just hovers a couple feet off the ground. Do you want to break your neck?"
"Lean forward," Al advised.
She did so, and squealed when the broom obediently floated forward. "I'm flying!"
"Kind of," James muttered, but indulged her a moment later. He went around to the front of the broom, seized the end, and began walking around the yard, pulling it along at a faster pace. Al followed, ready to catch her if she toppled off.
Lily began loudly commentating on a pretend Quidditch game in which she was the brave and fearless Chaser (winning the game single-handedly by the sounds of it). After a few moments their parents appeared on the porch with grins and a camera.
It was, Al reflected, a happier Christmas than the previous one. As he watched his older brother tug Lily around the yard without complaint, occasionally mimicking the sound of an excited crowd, he was reminded that James wasn't always a prat. Perhaps it wasn't so strange that someone as nice as Vincent was friends with him after all.
