Leave Out All the Rest

Chapter 20: The Breakfast Before

POV: Albus

"That's mine!"

With a bang and a shout, I rolled my eyes as a typical argument sprouted around me—Freddie and Louis, sadly my relatives, began fighting for a bowl of cereal. And it's right there that I sadly, again, realize that everything in the Weasley/Potter clan is thrived on competition.

Example A: There are currently seven Gryffindors, one Ravenclaw, one Hufflepuff, and one Slytherin of our family that's attending Hogwarts. Amongst all of us, a raging battle is constantly on. Bets start at the beginning of every year, and it's survival of the best house throughout the semester. Whoever wins the House Cup, the Quidditch House Cup, who gets how many O's in their lessons, and what house is squashed by the other is the almighty one throughout the summer that follows.

Example B: Mum and Uncle Ron, 'til this age, still row about who receives more attention from my dad. Though the answer should be obvious—seeing as his wife can be a raging lunatic—competition drives Uncle Ron to believe dad loves him more than mum. (A bit shifty? Yes. We all agree.) However, Uncle Ron claims that dad would side with him whenever he and mum fight because he's the one that's known dad the longest. Which then, of course, leads into an argument that dad sees Aunt Hermione as more of his best friend than him. (That subject's always created by mum, by the way.)

But like I was saying: competition, competition, competition. It explains why my cousins are fighting over a bowl of cereal; the other thirty-two bowls forgotten on the table as they fight until one surrenders or is left in bruises.

"Get your ruddy hands off, Louis Weasley!" Freddie shouted as he reached for a fork that was about to enter Lucy's mouth; moving it threatening to stab Louis' hand with it. (The sausage still in the picks, mind you.)

"—Oi!" Lucy shrieked, her brown eyes furious. "Fredrick, give me back my fork, you flobberworm!"

"Shove," Freddie struggled with our blonde cousin still, "off, Lucy!"

Still holding on to her glare, Lucy threw a piece of toast at the redhead. "Dimwitted troll," she spat, yanking my fork away from my fingers and stabbing her eggs with it.

"Family," I sighed in defeat, pushing my plate away.

Honestly, sometimes I wondered how peaceful, how silent and serene life would've been if alike my friends, I was the only child. I wondered how having a family that didn't consist of two grandparents, five uncles, five aunts, fourteen cousins, three siblings, two parents, and five best friends that somehow ended up being bonded into it would be like.

BAM.

"Imbecile, good-for-nothing, bloody hag, evil incarnated," Rose appeared at the Gryffindor table, slamming books onto the table top as she began muttering incoherently underneath he breath; her eyes lethal looking as she appeared to be in some type of trance. "Princess want-to-be, imitation blonde, insufferable, bitch—"

"Rose!" Lucy widened her eyes, an expression of disapproval that we were all sure she got from Uncle Percy appeared on her face. "What's with you?"

Rose faced our cousin, her murderous expression not gone. "What's with me?" She snapped. "So I'm the one with the problem now?"

With a mouth filled with cereal—one that he'd clearly won from Louis as the latter was scowling at him—Freddie raised an eyebrow. "What are you on about?"

"Belinda Rookwood!" Rose growled as she tossed herself onto the bench. "Bloody Slytherins—"

"Oi," I protested, "Slytherin present." I reminded her as I pointed to a thick, leathered cuff with a snake on it around my wrist; something that Mrs. Malfoy had given me two Christmases ago.

And as Rose banged her fist on the table, her entire suave exterior, her collected and I'm-so-much-more-mature-than-you attitude clearly wiped away, Louis automatically looked chipper. He was, without a doubt, basking in this moment that didn't happen at all. "Are you having a tantrum, Rosie darling?"

Throwing a fork at him, Rose hissed, "I am most certainly not throwing a tantrum!" And then she threw another fork at Louis, contradicting herself without even knowing the perfect amount of amusement she'd just added to my morning. "I'm fuming, it's different!"

Louis was scowling again, rubbing his forehead as the last fork she'd thrown at him got him. "Alright, you bloody menace, why are you fuming?"

"Haven't I just said why?" Rose snapped, her fingers twitching to grab more silverware to chuck. "Belinda Rookwood!"

Yanking away a butter-knife she was about to wrap her fingers around, I narrowed my eyes at her. (As much as it was amusing to see her constantly composed exterior shattered, her shrieking was starting to get annoying.) "We've established that, Rose. Now care to explain why Rookwood's got your knickers in a twist?"

"She exists!" Rose shouted at me.

At that poor explanation and childish shout, Freddie nodded his head solemnly. "Right, right you are, cousin. No need to go on then. She's a disgrace to the human race."

Thankfully, for the remaining sensitivity my eardrums had, my two loyal Slytherins started approaching the table. Both Malfoy and Zabini dressed in their casual best, looking free and comfortable. "Good morning to you all beloved Weasleys!" Lucas flashed a grand smile at us; Malfoy and I shared a look and rolled our eyes. "How are you, bella?" Ignoring us, Zabini aimed his glittering smile at my cousin Lucy.

Blushing slightly, while still trying to hold on to her proper exterior of a fine, young lady Uncle Percy was always going on about to her, Lucy smiled politely; scooting a bit to her side to give the dark-skinned Slytherin room to sit. "I'm doing well, Lucas, thank you. And yourself?"

"Absolutely brilliant, dearest Lucy. And, honestly, all because of your beautiful smile." Zabini winked.

Malfoy snorted, reaching over and smacking our house-mate beside the head. "Give it a rest," he said in irritation, "she's a bleeding Third Year. It's only obvious she's going to swoon over you and your phony accent. Now quit it before she hyperventilates."

"Phony?" Lucas turned from Lucy to Malfoy, looking very offended. "I'm Italian, Malfoy! I'm anything but phony, you ignorante idiota!"

Before Malfoy could retort to that, however, Rose looked like she was about to pop and send her anger oozing out as she glowered at Malfoy from her seat. "You," she hissed at him, an accusing finger being pointed at him, "You sodding cockroach, Malfoy!"

"Well, aren't you just delightful in the mornings, Weasley," Scorpius replied, ignoring her insult completely as he did not look moved by it. (He's been looking more and more annoyed every day, mind you. Who the hell knows what's got him in a foul mood.) "I've always said you were the loveliest person, thanks for affirming that."

At his sarcastic tone, Rose did not falter her anger. "Look, Malfoy. Warn that cow that you've as a girlfriend that if she ever crosses my path again, I will hex her into a deep obliteration!"

Malfoy narrowed his grey eyes at her, his face still not acknowledging the redhead's intense fury. "First off, Weasley, Belinda is not my girlfriend. So, if you please, quit being one of those gossiping witches that keeps saying that I've a romance with her. I would genuinely appreciate that, thank you. I'd hate to have to write to my mother, who no doubt would hear the rumor from outside the castle, to assure her that I'm not dating Augustus Rookwood's granddaughter. I'm sure the shame she'd feel for my disgracing the Malfoy name even more is not necessary." And just as we thought he was done, as Rose fell into a silence as she stared wide-eyed at him, Malfoy continued. "And secondly, Weasley, I'm not your bloody owl. If you have anything to say to Belinda, I suggest you find her yourself."

"What the bloody hell's wrong with you?" I asked, chuckling at the awkwardness that had just ignited onto the Gryffindors table.

Malfoy took across from me, reaching for a goblet of Pumpkin Juice; his pale face frowning. "Nothing's wrong. I just hate being—"

Raising a brow as my best mate lapped into a silence, I turned to look over my shoulder at what had gotten his attention. And sure enough, I saw a dark-haired girl approaching her house-table gracefully. She was glowing, the girl, and looking absolutely radiant. She was wearing—and by Merlin, I feel less manly as I realized I noticed her attire—a grey coat, light-blue shirt underneath, jeans, mid-leg grey boots, and light-blue matching scarf and beret.

"Well, well, well," with the attention now on the girl, Freddie looked up at her with a hearty expression. "Aren't you looking dashing this morning, Miss Taylor? What's the occasion? Oh, I know!" He snapped his fingers dramatically. "You've finally realized that you want one Freddie Weasley as your lover?"

Emily blushed. "Behave yourself, Freddie," she said in a timid scold, taking the open seat next to me. "Excited for your date, Al?" She asked me after kissing my cheek in greeting. "Because Evanna Nott sure is; she's pacing frantically in the girls' lavatory."

A smirk threatened to tug on my lips, but something sort of held it. "I'm calm," I told her, "it's not like I've fancied girls in years past. I just think it's time I look for a relationship, you know. And Evanna's a wonderful girl to do that with."

Rose and Emily glanced at one another, a secret witch-look at that. But before I could question what that gaze meant, they both flashed a soft smile at me.

"—Morning, lads!" And as breakfast was not complete without various interruptions, James arrived at the Gryffindor-table with Nia and Liam behind him. (The two best friends in the background looking upset and a little distant.) "Excited for your vast snogging-fest today, Al?" James snickered as he slithered into a seat next to Malfoy; both avoiding the American girl next to me.

I didn't reply immediately, my eyes scanning the blonde witch next to Greengrass; who became perfectly immobile after my brother's comment. Liam gave her a quick peek, but sighed tiredly as she didn't meet his eyes. "Piss off, James," I finally spoke, choosing to look away from the best friends. "You know you're jealous. It must be hard to know that your little brother's got a date and you haven't."

James snorted, rolling his eyes at me. "Oh, Albus Severus, you should really quit trying to be arrogant. It doesn't suit you, little brother." He grabbed a plate of food before flashing me a devious smirk. "And besides, who said I haven't a date? What lonely git goes to Hogsmeade by himself? That's just pathetic." And then he broke his own rule, aiming a secretive glance at Emily.

I don't really know what in Merlin's name is going on there, but I've noticed that James had been keeping his distance from her lately. That was really odd, seeing as he was her shadow since her First Year. Sometimes I assumed he did that, the protecting, because he thought that would make her be closer to him. That she'd open up, smile, laugh, and look as comfortable with him as she did when she was with Malfoy. (This led to envy on my brother's side that was not missed by anyone.)

Deciding to help him out of his misery, I asked, "Who're you going with, then?"

Clearing his throat, looking away from the girl next to me, James pulled on an idiotic grin. "Nia Harper, of course," he said as he grabbed one of the silent-blonde's hands.

As he said this, something bitter and sour crawled into my mouth and danced on my tongue; making me pull on a face like I'd just seen the Headmistress naked. Beside me, Emily coughed as she choked on the piece of toast she had been nibbling on.

"What?" Emily composed herself before I did, her green eyes flashing at Nia and looking skeptical.

With hardened blue eyes and a face that looked to be masking something, Nia raised her chin to prove that she was collected. "It's not a date," she explained. "He just offered to go with me to Dervish and Banges to try and get my broom repaired as I so miserably failed to hide it from Sar Finnegan while he played with destructive spells yesterday."

"My beautiful Harper, why, may I ask, are you going to suffer in James' presence? Certainly your dearest Liam Greengrass would accompany you to Hogsmeade, wouldn't he?" Freddie asked, batting his eyelashes as he too noticed the distance between the latter. "It'll give you two the chance to get a snog outside the castle, you know? Find a lonely street to fondle each other and all that."

I glared at my redheaded cousin, throwing him the butter-knife I took from Rose a while ago. "Don't be a dirty prat, Freddie. Nia's a very nice girl." I told him, trying to justify my actions.

Liam shifted on his feet awkwardly, glancing once more at the beautiful blonde girl standing beside him—a glance that she was still not returning as it seemed like she was pretending he wasn't there. "I erm…I'm just going to stay in today." He cleared his throat, looking at his cousin now. "Scorpius, what're you going to be doing today?"

Aiding his cousin away from the appointed looks the Gryffindors were giving him, Malfoy replied with, "I'll be seeing Belinda later on." And as soon as Rose was about to open her mouth, he added, "And just before you decide to counter argue my speech, she's still not my girlfriend. We're just friends, and I promised to hang out with her seeing as her friends have dates."

Rose scoffed, looking thoroughly disgusted. "Well, obviously. Who in their right mind would risk their sanity to ask Rookwood out? She's probably use them as toothpicks after she's done devouring them like the monster she is."

Shaking her head, Emily turned to my cousins; not wanting an argument to break out. "Louis, Freddie, what about you two? Any plans?"

"We've got detention," Freddie sighed unhappily. "Apparently, the Headmistress thinks that a month of serving detention with Filch is the price to pay for us accidentally letting some Hippogriffs escape last week."

Louis made a face. "You'd think that detention was the worst part, but no. It's having to listen to old Filch swoon over his cat that makes me want to drown myself in the Black Lake."

My brother started laughing loudly. "I'm so glad Neville asked me to make up an exam that day you released the Hippogriffs. Mum would've killed me, and you all know she's capable of that through a Howler."

And just as Zabini asked how my cousins managed to free the Hippogriffs, Rose began nudging Emily with an extended hand; trying to look a little discreet. "Em, he's here."

Looking over her shoulder, Emily made a surprised noise. And just about the time when I was going to question what they were on about, a tall bloke appeared at the table. He was slightly burly, intense gold eyes and a look on his face that gave you the feeling like you were walking down a haunted corridor on your own and in the dark and without a wand.

"Hello, Emily," the bloke spoke, a smile on his face that did not ease that feeling that you were about to be possessed. And at the sound of his voice rippling out, he managed to grab everyone's attention. "I know I said I'd meet you by the carriages, but I thought it'll be much more courteous of my part to walk with you."

Emily's face was a pinky color, her emerald eyes shining. "Thanks, that's very sweet," she smiled, but that quickly faded as she noticed all the gaping faces. "Um…Guys, this is Lance," she mumbled hesitantly at us, "Lance, these are my friends."

The bloke smiled politely at us, nodding in greeting. And though he made this action, no one said anything; we all just watched him carefully.

At the deafening silence we submerged ourselves into, Emily shook her head at us with a sad sigh and stood from her place next to me. "Well, I think we better get going."

"What's the rush?" Speaking in a tensed tone, James frowned at Emily and her friend. "The carriages won't run out."

While Emily looked a little flustered at my brother's irritation, Rose stood from the bench; pulling the American up with her. "There is a rush," she snapped at James, "they're accompanying Lysander Scamander and me on our date."

Emily's friend raised an eyebrow, looking a little curious, but nodded in agreement with Rose like her statement had been true. "And we really shouldn't keep Scamander waiting, so we best be off." Without giving anyone else a chance to say anything, he put an arm around Emily's waist and began to lead her out of the Great Hall; Rose tagging along hurriedly.

"Hmm," I scrunched my forehead, curiosity wracking my brain, "isn't that bloke in Slytherin? I sort of recall walking in on him as he snogged some girl my Second Year, it was rather embarrassing, actually."

"That's Lance Greyback!" Suddenly not his oh-so cool self, Zabini looked like someone had submerged him in cold water. "Has Emily gone mental?"

Scorpius frowned, his silver eyes still looking at the non-existent trail Emily, Rose, and Lance Greyback left behind. "He's related to Fernier Greyback, isn't he?"

"Fernier Greyback? Isn't that—"

"Yeah, it's the werewolf," Louis interjected before I could finish. He was scowling too, his blue eyes looking concerned. "He's the one who attacked my dad in the first battle of Hogwarts when Dumbledore was murdered. He was also the one who turned Teddy's dad back when he was a kid." He shook his head, almost like every word he was speaking was adding to his worry. "I know we shouldn't be prejudice and all that rubbish, but I don't have a good feeling about that, mates."

Clearing her throat, Lucy looked at us with judging eyes. "They're just friends, you're all overreacting. Besides, Taylor is too sweet of a girl. Who would want to hurt her?"

"She's too naïve," Malfoy snapped, James nodding in a silent agreement next to him. "She'd trust a serial killer if he offered her a puppy. And, come off it, alright. That bloke's too old—just look at him! What is he, a Seventh Year? He's got to be seventeen or eighteen. What does a boy that age possibly want with a fifteen year-old girl?"

"I doubt it's to buy her a puppy," James muttered darkly.

With her blue eyes lacking the stoic glint they'd been sporting, Nia said, "…maybe we should keep an eye out for her when we're out Hogsmeade."

"Hey, Nia," sensing the worry his friend had, Liam looked like he was done giving her silent, concerned glances; this time looking reassuring at her, "it'll be fine. Like Lucy said, who would—"

And as his hand was heading towards her, Nia jumped back a step from him. "Don't touch me," she snarled at him, her blue eyes raging back and forth from angry, hurt, and determined.

Greengrass was instantly surprised, his face looking shockingly aghast. "Nia…I was…"

At that very moment, Merlin, I swear that in that very moment I wanted to jump out of my seat; to take Harper's hand and just whisk her away because it was clear that Greengrass was not in her good graces at the moment. And even though I should be inclined to back them up, because I know how deep their friendship went, I wanted nothing more than to do a victory dance. (Why, you ask? Well, who knows! I just want to.)

But with one quick inhale, exhale, inhale, I shook my head and let it go. This wasn't my problem. I was supposed to be happy—happy because I was going on a date with a beautiful, dark-haired girl who was not Nia Harper. And that, my friends, was like finding goblins gold.

So with a clear of my throat as tension was high, I stood from the bench. "Well," I began, trying to collect myself, "see you lot later. I've got a date with a dazzling witch. "