The next morning, Albus awoke suddenly and sprang to life. Across the room, he noticed Scorpius' untouched bed as he dressed himself haphazardly in weekend clothes and bolted up the spiral staircase. The common room was an abandoned wreck. Snack wrappers and paper cups littered every surface and the sofa cushions were all scattered about. The vandals, however, had long since departed for their beds and were having a lie in after their long night of wagering and other frivolity. The room was eerily silent except for a soft rustle as an orange cat tried to lick something sticky from the bottom of a cup on the floor.
Albus approached the portrait of Severus Snape curiously. The potions master was leaning against the frame, his eyes closed and his book open in his lap as though he'd just dozed off. Albus thought it odd that a portrait would need sleep but he reckoned that there wasn't much else for a portrait to do when no one living was around to admire them.
Albus glanced at the name and dates on the plaque. Snape had died a young man. He'd been nearly the same age as Albus' parents. By all accounts, even his own admission, Snape had been a menacing, resentful, and loveless person his entire life. Yet Albus' father considered him a hero. Despite all those who'd advised Albus not to bother himself with the enigma of Snape's intentions, he couldn't make himself stop wondering. In truth, he didn't really want to. His father had chosen to name him for this man and Albus knew that he couldn't put the matter to rest until he understood the whole reason.
His father had told him once that he considered Snape one of the bravest men he'd ever known. Courage was a virtue highly favored in the Potter-Weasley family, but what was courage without any love or goodness to motivate it? Albus reasoned that when courage was stripped of those, it became mere ruthlessness, the trademark most commonly attributed to Slytherin house. Certainly, most every dark wizard that had ever risen to power possessed this quality at length. What was it that placed Severus Snape among the heros and not the villains? Albus knew the answer had to be bound up in the secrets Snape had shared with his father. Without that piece, the puzzle couldn't be solved and Albus was certain that his father would not betray Snape's confidence. He wondered if he could ever get Snape's portrait to tell him the truth.
Suddenly, the portrait began to stir and he opened his eyes with a sigh. Albus backed up sheepishly as Snape caught sight of him and groaned.
"Merlin's Beard, Potter! I haven't even awakened yet and you're already harassing me?"
"Er…Sorry?" Albus responded, "I guess I should have waited until you had your coffee…or whatever is the morning routine for a portrait." Snape gave a grunt of disgust and rose to leave the frame.
"Wait!" Albus pleaded anxiously, "Have Scorpius and Sarah come back from St. Mungo's yet?" Snape raised his eyebrows at the question. At first, Albus was afraid that he wasn't going to answer. But after a long yawn, Snape's portrait informed him that his friends had indeed returned to Hogwarts and were resting in the hospital wing.
"Did the counter-curse work on my cousin?" Albus inquired.
"Presumably. It worked well enough on Mr. Wright. He was alert enough this morning to get a strong reprimand from the Headmistress for sneaking out of bed after hours."
"When will I know for sure?" Albus asked him, still not quite satisfied. He had pleaded to go with his friends to the hospital, but Professor Longbottom hadn't allowed him and had ordered him back to bed. Scorpius had only been allowed to go due to the fact that Sarah refused to go without him. Albus was terribly anxious to hear if Rose was going to recover.
"I expect Professor McGonagall will want to speak to you about it this morning," Snape informed him, "She's already modified the memories of your housemates. None of them remember hearing or seeing Miss Vineyard perform the curse or the counter curse."
"Why did the headmistress do that?" Albus asked.
"Obviously," he sneered in response, "It's too dangerous a curse to be in the incompetent hands of a mob of Slytherin first years." Albus considered this.
"What's going to happen to Sarah?" he asked, "Will her memory be modified as well?" Snape looked troubled at the question.
"Her fate is currently up to the headmistress. She and Longbottom are the only adults who are aware of what she did."
"Couldn't Professor McGonagall just modify her memory as well so she can't remember the incantation and be done with it?" Albus complained.
"It's not a simple as that, Potter. She could easily have killed someone!"
"But Sarah isn't a violent person!" Albus insisted, "She only used the curse to protect herself and she was really sorry. They aren't going to lock her up in Azkaban for that?" Snape sighed again.
"And what do you expect to happen when the curse returns to her in another dream, or she binds an equally deadly spell? Miss Vineyard must learn to control herself and keep these dangerous spells to herself. Otherwise, Azkaban Prison is exactly where she belongs and where she's going to end up!" Albus fell silent. Snape had a point, he had to admit.
"Will she be expelled?" Albus questioned him sadly.
"As I've already told you, Potter, it's entirely up to the headmistress." Albus' face fell. He felt quite sorry for Sarah. It was about the worst thing he could imagine, being expelled from Hogwarts in the first year! He reckoned she'd have to spend the rest of her life with a restricted wand, or even none at all!
"What's wrong, Potter? Why do you look so miserable?" Snape demanded, interrupting Albus' gloomy thoughts. Albus looked up in surprise. It was quite out-of-character for the portrait to take an interest in a student's feelings.
"I guess I don't think it's very fair," he admitted in a guarded tone, "Sarah doesn't deserve to be expelled." Snape's expressionless eyes gazed at him for a long time. Albus thought they were rather like dark caves. He wanted to know what was going on inside, but the very thought of what he might encounter was chilling.
"You don't think so?" Snape finally asked. Albus shook his head vehemently in response and Snape's eyes narrowed.
"Well…it's highly likely that she won't be," he replied after a moment's hesitation. Albus was confused by the answer. He couldn't tell if the portrait was giving him an honest prediction or if he was merely trying to comfort him.
"Were you a Deatheater?" Albus asked suddenly. Snape continued to gaze at him, surprisingly unaffected by the boy's bold question or the sudden change of subject.
"You already know the answer to that question," he responded in an even tone, "Why are you asking it?" Albus looked down in embarrassment.
"I…I just…I can't really explain," he admitted, "I just really want to know."
"What is it you want to know?" Snape asked in an impossibly calm voice. Albus' expression was troubled as the fought to put his moral qualms about Snape into words.
"Well, come on, then! If you have to know, it might as well be over and done with." Snape urged him irritably. Albus bit his lower lip nervously, then after taking a deep breath he whispered, "How could you do it? How could you be a Deatheater?" Snape's face betrayed no emotion as he explained, "I chose to become a Deatheater because I believed they would help me to become more powerful."
"But, didn't you know what Voldemort was planning? Didn't you know he meant to kill innocent people?"
"I did. That is, the evidence was there. I wasn't concerned about it."
"Not concerned about it?" Albus exclaimed in horror.
"I reasoned that none of them were bothering themselves about me and my problems, so why should I concern myself about them."
"Well, that's just sick!" Albus replied disgustedly.
"If you like," he responded, his expression still impossibly devoid of feeling, "You aren't the first to inform me of the unworthiness of my character." Appalled, Albus shook his head.
"What did you expect me to say, boy?" Snape demanded, "That I joined up with the Dark Lord with only the purest of intentions?" Albus shrugged.
"I don't know," he conceded, "I guess I thought there might be more to the story."
"I'm afraid I must disappoint you, Potter," he responded grimly.
"Why did you start spying for Dumbledore, then," Albus asked, hoping to prod Snape's image into confessing some more noble purposes. His blank eyes glanced away from Albus, as he considered the best way to answer the question. Instinctively, Albus prepared himself for yet another concocted, adult simplification that was meant to sound wise, but divulged absolutely no useful information. To his surprise, Snape supplied no such response.
"The headmistress is attempting to summon me," he informed him by way of a good-bye. Without another word, he was gone. Albus collapsed into an armchair in frustration, kicking an empty cup across the stone floor. The orange cat darted from behind the chair and chased the cup playfully. Albus watched the cat with a deep feeling of melancholy. Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy was right. If he continued trying to understand Snape, he might indeed go mad.
After breakfast, Albus went up to the hospital wing to inquire about his friends. The nurse allowed him in and Albus was elated to find Scorpius sitting in his pajamas at Rose's bedside, cheerfully enjoying a bowl of porridge.
"Rose is back!" Albus cheered, but his friend quickly shushed him.
"She's asleep!" he whispered, "She's still recovering."
"What are you doing in here?" Albus demanded in a subdued voice.
"They let me sleep in here since we got back so early this morning," he explained, "I just now woke up and Hoppy brought me this, since I've already missed breakfast."
"Is Rose going to be alright?" Albus asked urgently and Scorpius smiled.
"Of course!" he assured him, struggling to keep his voice down, "She's doing better already! She was talking to us on the way back from the hospital. She's devastated, actually, because McGonagall told her she needn't worry about taking her exams this week!" Albus snorted with laughter and had to stifle himself with a pillow to keep from waking the invalids.
"Where are the others?" Albus asked when he'd regained his composure.
"Wright's there," he answered, gesturing toward another bed in the far corner, "The others, I guess, took an early Christmas holiday."
"What about Sarah?"
Scorpius' expression became a little glum at the mention of Sarah's name.
"McGonagall took her away," he explained sadly, "I expect she'll be expelled."
"Snape's portrait said it wasn't likely," Albus related, trying to sound comforting, though he too was worried about her. They chatted for sometime in whispers while Scorpius finished his breakfast. Then Hoppy insisted that they leave so they wouldn't awaken her patients.
As the two of them made their way through the portal to the common room, they were greeted by an anxious and irritated looking mob of Slytherins, including all the rest of their Quidditch team.
"What are you two doing?" the Quidditch captain exclaimed furiously. Albus and Scorpius glanced at each other in confusion as the unexpected assault.
"We've been looking everywhere for you!" the captain continued and the others glared their agreement.
"Why?" Scorpius asked. The mob grunted incredulously.
"I don't know," responded one of the Slytherin sarcastically, "Maybe because we think our team would play better if we weren't missing two players!"
Their eyes widened in realization.
"Merlin's Beard!" Scorpius exclaimed, "We have a match today!"
A few frantic minutes later, they were out on the pitch in the bitter cold, warming up their broomsticks and going over their game plan. Albus couldn't believe he'd managed to forget all about the match. He'd been worrying over it nonstop for weeks! It was the final match before the holiday and they were playing against Gryffindor, whose team included his brother as well as two of his cousins. Albus kept one eye on the stands as he practiced chasing the quaffle around the pitch with his team mates. He knew his family was coming to see the match and though he'd spent the week trying to convince himself that he wouldn't let it bother him, he felt a sick feeling rising in his stomach as the start of the game became closer and closer.
"Potter, pay attention!" shouted the team captain over the biting wind, as Albus narrowly missed being knocked out of the air by a bludger. Albus righted himself on his broomstick and shot after the quaffle again. He'd reasoned to himself over and over that as former members of the Gryffindor team, his parents were obliged to sit among the Gryffindor fans and cheer on their team. He knew that it was nothing personal and that his parents would still be proud of him if he played his best, but as he observed the stands beginning to fill with bundled- up students, staff, and spectators, he wanted more and more to find a good hole to crawl into. Overhead, Scorpius was darting top-speed from one side of the pitch to the other, working on his agility and not paying attention to his friend's distress. Albus glanced around again at the Gryffindor stands, scanning among the heavy fur hats and thick mufflers for familiar faces. Suddenly, a red blur darted past his nose, knocking him to one side and nearly making him loose his grip on his broom handle. His brothers mischievous laughter echoed across the pitch.
"Whatcha looking at, Al?" he demanded snidely.
"Nothing," Albus grumbled.
"Nothing, eh?" James chuckled as he hovered beside him on his broomstick, "So, you weren't looking around for Dad and Mum, then?" Albus' eyes narrowed.
"No," he lied.
"So, you aren't at all worried that they might be too ashamed of their little Slytherin to show their faces in public?" taunted James. Albus rolled his eyes.
"Of course, they're going to come," he insisted, "I was just trying to see where they're sitting…if it's all the same to you!"
James chuckled again and retorted, "Well, all right then, if that's the way you're going to be! I'll just go about my own business…By the way, Al…you're looking in the wrong place." Albus' expression became confused. His brother was grinning at him smugly. He cocked his head toward the green and silver stands located directly behind the Slytherin goals and Albus followed the gesture. There, in the second row, sat his parents and sister, as well as Teddy Lupin and his cousin, Victoire. Albus stared at them in amazement as his parents waved emphatically and Lily held up a sign that read, "Go, Albus!" in green letters. Albus smiled sheepishly and waved back at them. James made a clucking sound with his tongue.
"What a shame! And it will be all the more tragic when we annihilate you!" With that, he flew off toward the Gryffindor holding area.
"Come in, all!" demanded the Slytherin captain and all the players landed and followed their leader into their own holding area for his customary pre-game rant.
"My family's sitting on our side!" Albus whispered to Scorpius excitedly.
"I know, I saw your mum talking to my mum," responded Scorpius, "My parents are here too." Albus glanced around the edge of the curtain at the Slytherin stands again. Sure enough, he recognized Beatrice Malfoy, smiling radiantly as she chatted with another mother and looking like a snow queen from a fairy tale in a mantle of pure, white fur. Her husband sat beside her, with a somewhat more solemn expression as his gaze explored the playing fields.
"Potter! Malfoy!" bellowed the captain, "Pay attention when I'm encouraging you!" The two of them chortled. None of the team captain's pre-game speeches were what anyone would call 'encouraging'. Mostly, they were a review of each team member's personal flaws and shortcomings punctuated by frequent reminders that any one of them could easily be replaced if they didn't deliver. Finally, the whistle blew and the team emerged to take their positions for the start of the match.
It was, by far, the most interesting game of the term and Albus played exceptionally well. He'd been told by the older team members from their first practice that his selection for the position of chaser was highly strategic. The Gryffindor keeper had been the bane of Slytherin's existence for the previous four years. She was a virtual wall between the hoops and the quaffle and she was none other than Albus' own cousin, Gina Weasley. The Slytherin captain considered Albus' experience growing up playing against her to be their secret weapon and it was sound reasoning. Albus knew most of his cousin's moves, having been trained to thwart them by Gina Weasley herself. In fact, during the previous game, Slytherin had been up by ten goals and Albus had scored all of them but one. They'd only lost the match because James had caught the snitch before Albus and the other Slytherin chasers could get a fifteen goal lead. The Gryffindor chasers hadn't managed to score a single goal. Public opinion was that they'd become lazy due to the fact that between the outstanding skills of their seeker and keeper, there wasn't a pressing need for them to do much in order to win a match. The Slytherin strategy, therefore, was to rack up an excess of one-hundred and fifty points before the golden snitch was spotted, leaving James Potter unable to catch the snitch without forfeiting the game.
Sure enough, before twenty minutes had passed, the Slytherin team had made their quota, with Albus scoring the vast majority of the goals himself and assisting with the others. The rival seekers paced around the pitch at a moderate pace during the first part of the game, searching among the players for the telltale glint of gold. But once Slytherin managed to shut the Gryffindor seeker out of winning the game by catching the snitch, the Gryffindor players began to churn the air like sharks that tasted blood. Their objective had changed from scoring points to preventing Scorpius from catching the snitch, apparently by death if necessary.
Suddenly, Scorpius found himself dodging bludgers and fouls left and right. The crowd of spectators became riotous in their cheers and cries of 'foul!' that went for the most part unnoticed by Mr. Willard, the referee. Scorpius flew for his life as the opposing team's chasers and beaters turned their attentions to chasing and beating him. The Slytherin beaters dove in and out between Scorpius and his attackers, trying to free him up so he could concentrate on finding the snitch. The team captain managed to knock a bludger into Mansel Reddy, one of Gryffindor's chasers and, in response, Declan Finnigan, one of the Gryffindor beaters, rammed the back of his broomstick. The second Slytherin beater leaped from his broomstick and grabbed his Gryffindor counterpart by the neck, dragging him ungracefully to the sand. Mr. Willard ran frantically toward them, blowing his whistle, but no one seemed to notice as the two wrestled each other.
The second Slytherin beater, rammed into a second Gryffindor chaser who seemed intent on knocking Scorpius off his broom. With his attacker distracted, Scorpius shot off toward the other end of the pitch, searching desperately for any sign of the one object that could end all the madness. The second Slytherin beater and the second Gryffindor chaser continued in a ramming contest until they too were fist-fighting on the ground, despite Mr. Willard's shouts for them to stop immediately. The two remaining chasers hovered overhead shouting encouragement to their teammates while Randy Weasley screamed at them to help him defend their goals or at least distract Scorpius Malfoy. Meanwhile, the Slytherin chasers had no mercy on the unassisted Gryffindor keeper and scored two more goals. Now the only one on Scorpius' tail was James. Both seekers were searching for the snitch, one to catch it and the other to prevent its capture. Scorpius darted from one side of the pitch to the other, changing direction and speed rapidly. James remained a broom's length behind him, ready to pounce in case he should break after a golden shimmer.
Scorpius quickly tried to come up with a plan. He suspected James could out fly him and would happily pummel him into the ground if he made a move toward the snitch. He needed to put some space between them. Suddenly, James dropped off his tail and shot like a bullet across the field. Scorpius followed instinctively, scanning the direction James was flying for some sign of the snitch. All of a sudden, James went into a dive, aiming straight for the sand. Scorpius did the same, chasing James as he hurtled toward the ground. The crowd gradually turned their attention from the squabble unfolding on the ground to the Gryffindor seeker's amazing stunt and the stands were filled with gasps of concern as James Potter headed straight for a nasty crash. The next moment, there were cheers of excitement as he pulled out of the dive at the last moment and skated across the field with only the straw of his broomstick scraping up a cloud of sand behind him.
Triumphantly, he glanced over his shoulder where he fully expected to find Scorpius Malfoy spiting up mouthfuls of dirt. To his dismay, Scorpius was not to be found on the ground, rather, he was gliding top-speed in the opposite direction, toward a tiny, glittering ball of gold. James shot after him immediately and made up an impressive amount of the distance between them. However, Scorpius had too much of a head start and to the cheers of the Slytherin fans, he scooped up the snitch in his hand with a triumphant cry.