Harry in Winter, Dumbledore's Farewell, Severus and Lily, Frgt10.

Snakeskins

The Best Friend Card

That Italy had been cursed by Professor Huntington was obvious. Really, all Arthur had to do was see his face after leaving the classroom to know exactly why there had been screaming behind the doors only minutes before.

What was incredible was the fact that he did nothing about it.

He wouldn't even tell them what, exactly, Professor Huntington had done to him, and stormed away from Scorpius when he tried pressing him for answers.

Arthur tried waiting and didn't bother him about it for the rest of their lessons. He didn't even ask when they went to dinner or drifted back down to the Slytherin commons that night. What was strange about it was how several times over those hours of voluntary silence, Italy would touch Arthur's robe, or take a deep breath to say something, but then as soon as Arthur was able to look at him the other nation would put on a concerned, irritated face and then fall back into silence. Italy even refused to come clean that evening or at least describe what had transpired, Arthur was left watching Charles of all people take the smaller Slytherin by the arm and drag him down to the dormitory for a chat.

It was hard not to feel sorry for Eliza who had been fretting the exact same way over Italy all evening, but the gender charm blocked her from going down with Arthur and Scorpius to make sure Italy didn't end up getting beaten up by their larger friend.

"You have got to tell the professor." Charles, thank goodness, had grown a sound head on his wide shoulders since last year. "Whatever she did to you, you have to tell him."

Arthur didn't even have to speak up, he just stepped into the well-lit chamber with their four stone beds all aglow and saw where Charles had sat Italy down firmly on his bed and was giving him a stern talking-to. Scorpius followed right behind him and was the one to shut the door tight so none of the other Slytherin boys could overhear them. "I like Huntington, she gives you the run around but she's miles ahead of Binns, but you have to come clean."

Italy, who had been docile since leaving the History room, just shrugged and let his hand run down Gino's back, the puffy feline ignorant of the mood and just looking for affection from its master.

"I'll go with you, Vargas." Arthur didn't see Italy's reaction to that statement because he turned around and gave a shocked look at Scorpius for speaking up. It was the first time all year he'd been anything but resentful of the idea of going up to his father's office on the fourth floor. "He won't get mad about it, it's part of his job to help Slytherins."

Italy's feet still barely reached the floor when he sat on his bed, they really would have to give him a growth-spurt when they got back to London for the Holidays, but he just hooked his ankles together and rubbed his cat behind the ears a little bit. He hadn't smiled all day except to give those forced, borderline-frightening expressions of his that were so two-faced he'd shut up half of Gryffindor during Potions just by throwing one at them without a word. If Arthur hadn't heard him mutter about someone passing a tray of vegetables down during dinner he would have feared she'd actually taken his voice away.

Instead of saying anything now, he just looked at Arthur and it was the most uncomfortable he'd felt all day.

"Don't stare at me, I agree with them!"

"I'm fine," was what he finally came up with, kicking his shoes off and swinging his legs up onto his bed so he could lay down, dragging Gino up onto his chest for cuddles and setting all three of them off.

"You liar!"

"You're not fine, you almost bit Potter's nose off in Potions!"

"What was he like in your spare block then, Kirkland?" Scorpius turned the question on Arthur while Charles unsuccessfully tried to get a rise out of Italy where he was laying on the bed being absolutely passive in the discussion. Arthur thought back to the spare hour and a half he and Italy had due to leaving Divination at the doorstep, time usually devoted to homework but today taken up with a visit to Professor Parkinson's office to count pins for her first year lessons. A boring ninety minutes if there ever were.

"I thought it better not to ask right away, but basically just like he is now." Moody and quiet, which was so frustrating for their classmates that Arthur didn't feel like he needed to get involved with telling Italy the exact same thing he was already hearing. Whatever had happened, he needed to report it sooner rather than later.

"Vargas you screamed- Arthur and I both heard you!" He just let Scorpius take the wheel.

"She just startled me."

"While doing what?" And Charles was there to back him up.

"She-" Arthur realized too late what was going on. It was the same thing that had been happening all day during quiet moments and at the edges of those near-breaks in Italy's silence. He took his deep breath and he scowled so miserably with his brows pulled down and eyes focused on the domed ceiling, but then instead of speaking he stopped.

He stopped, and Arthur watched his throat stretch and move like he was swallowing, and then there was the pronounced movement of a cough that Arthur couldn't hear but which the cat certainly felt. As a familiar, it meant something even more when Gino abruptly stopped purring and lifted his head up to look at his master. Thanks to the animal's excessive poof, Arthur wasn't sure if Italy's hands really did clench a little bit or it was his own imagination.

"She what?" The boys noticed the pause and Arthur stepped around them to get closer to Italy's bed, walking right up to where Italy was resting his head on his pillow. He didn't look petulant laying there with his auburn hair loosely curled and spread out behind his head, his young face was less round than the last two years but still not quite the right shape for his adult form. His brown eyes gave his age away completely however, because when he let Arthur finally make direct eye-contact with him for the first time all day, he saw everything he needed to know.

He saw a grown-man's anger burning in a child's eyes, and understood the very firm grip Italy was keeping on his temper. There was a reason he hadn't told Arthur anything during their ninety minutes alone in the Transfiguration room. There was an even better one for why he hadn't blown off Potions all together and gone storming up to the infirmary, or even McGonagall's office.

"Leave him alone about it; he's not gonna say anything." So Arthur understood that he was being asked to play the Best Friend card again, and turned around with a shrug and a careless nod of the head. "The big baby probably shrieked when Hunt jumped off her stage at him. Wet your pants a little bit, you ninny?"

"Why is it always with the name-calling!?" And Italy responded by dragging his rage down under a whine and pushing Gino off his chest so he could grab one of his blankets and pull it up over himself. Arthur didn't let him get away with it when he heard Charles laugh a little, turning around and pulling his wand out to start poking at the sheets and heavy green winter quilt.

"Big blue monster with her orange hair and red lips, sounds like something from a muggle story book!" And Arthur let at least one colour-changing charm off his wand tip, a ghastly shriek from under the blanket telling him he'd either got a patch of skin or the hair he'd been aiming for.

"Stop it!"

"Well when you've finished dressing him up like a clown, drag him back upstairs so Ellie knows he's fine, will you?" Scorpius was the first one to leave and Higgs joined in on the fun of harassing Italy until he was properly smiling, or at least making a genuine effort not to be miserable. With Christmas break so deliciously close, Arthur fully expected that evening to be the end of it. Whatever magic Huntington had worked on Italy, they would sort it out themselves and decide, as adults, what to do about it.

The last of their exams wrapped up a few days later and Professor Huntington faded to the back of Arthur's mind, barring one painful afternoon with her exam where he either completely failed or just barely scraped by with answers pertaining to France and Arthur desperately trying to visualize the texts he'd read on Italian history with regards to the black magic body parts trade: pre-1500.

Needless to say, he was ousted as the highest scoring student in third year to Rose Weasley, and Arthur wanted to claw his eyes out reading the scroll in the great hall on the day of the Hogwarts Christmas express. Scorpius was there to lend moral support.

"It's not so bad, Kirkland."

"I'll remind you of that next time Slytherin loses a match."

"That's hardly the same thing!"

Italy still wasn't entirely himself, but he'd gotten over much of his anger and had been working diligently to keep Ellie from worrying about him, chatting with her happily about Christmas and gifts and what sorts of things she'd like or maybe do over the holidays. Gloria Flint, as expected, staunchly refused to be ignored in favour of Gamp and had been hovering on the periphery of their little group for the last nine days.

The lot of them went ahead to the carriages while Arthur and Scorpius had a chat about marks, not afraid of being two Slytherins in a hall of migrating students because with each passing year, being caught not moving in the halls was becoming less and less hazardous.

"They both affect the house the same way!" Arthur argued, not raising his voice too high but definitely firming it up a little. "Quidditch points are house points, and our marks are house points too! You know how it works." The highest scoring student at the end of each year earned an additional ten points around exam time, on top of ten more points for a perfect score for every exam they took. "I'm not interested in Quidditch or duelling, but it should be my name at the top of that list, not Weasley's."

Not that he was going to complain or cause a stir, there was nothing unfair happening at Hogwarts, it was simply England's pride coming to blows with his admiration for a young girl who was currently outperforming him in their lessons. It hurt to land in second place, but it was charming to know it was an English girl taking first.

"But I guess it doesn't really matter, let's go catch up with them."

"Arthur-"

Arthur swung a foot out to get going and was called back around by Scorpius. The boy in front of him was still very pale- he probably always would be. His face was getting longer but really hadn't changed very much from September, the red beginnings of adolescent oil and acne making their unwanted appearance across his narrow nose and the apples of his cheeks. But he had a sternness that was growing in him, bits of iron collecting in his blood and sticking to his spine to strengthen and straighten it from the timid little boy Arthur had met on a September day two years ago.

"I didn't mean to say Quidditch isn't-"

"It's not about sports." Then Arthur was now doubly interested in what was in Scorpius' head, because the hall was beginning to empty with students drifting elsewhere for the afternoon or down to the carriages so they could ride to Hogsmead and go home for holidays. They'd have to get going soon, but Scorpius just stood there worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth, hands and arms completely lost under the black fall of his school winter robe. For colour, there was only the Slytherin S on his breast and a ruff of green and silver fur protecting his neck and shoulders from the snowfall waiting outside. "Is Vargas alright, do you think?"

Sensing the mood, Arthur quickly hurried back and closed the distance between them, making it harder for anyone to hear what passed between them and ensuring at least a little more privacy.

"You mean about Huntington?" Scorpius only nodded, his bothered expression melting into a softer brand of concern. "I don't know, what do you think?"

"You're his best friend, he talks to you more than he does me."

"All he's said all week is how much he wants to go home and see his family." Which wasn't far from the truth. Regardless of what Arthur would be able to get out of him in London, it would be South Italy who got the full story in the end. "You look like you want to say something, Scorpius: out with it."

"Would he hate me?" it was a broken question because Arthur was missing a lot of information, but he didn't have to pry: Scorpius knew he wasn't being clear and tried to fix it on his own. "If I went to the Professor. I mean I don't know what happened, but..." But it was something. "Do you think he'd get really mad if I did that?"

The question Scorpius asked wasn't the one Arthur stopped and took a slow breath to consider. He wasn't thinking about Italy. Would Vargas get mad? No, and he definitely wouldn't hate the poor boy for acting in his interests. What Arthur stood there pondering was Hogwarts itself, and that was why he answered the way he did:

"I don't think Vargas can say what's wrong." It was... like a very big metaphor for the same dangerous trends Arthur had come to this place in order to snuff out. "It's not like him not to talk to people, and you know how awful he is at keeping secrets. He's been coughing all over the place and rubbing his mouth like it hurts since it happened."

"She hexed him- more like a curse really." Arthur saw it in the hesitance that gripped Scorpius, how his shoulders pulled up a little and he pulled in a breath looking for a way to slow his thoughts down. "I don't think that's allowed." There was a lie in those words. As a professor's son Scorpius knew it wasn't allowed.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to help him." It was encouraging to hear him give that answer without hesitating or even thinking about it. "But I don't know what happened and he won't- no, he really can't say anything. I asked him about that woman we saw and he coughed so hard there were tears in his eyes afterwards." His shoulders cinched up a little higher and there was just a spark of anger in his grey eyes. "She's really hurting him."

"Is that allowed?" Scorpius looked so disgusted by the question that Arthur let himself smile back at him. He almost looked like he was going to willingly announce his relation to one of the school's staff members when Scorpius remembered how much he was supposed to resent being 'the Professor's son'. Instead he swallowed the words and said something better.

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course, but let's be quick about it or we'll miss the train."

Scorpius was surprisingly quick to find his father. For all that he gave the serious impression that he never willingly crossed paths with Professor Malfoy while at school, Scorpius moved at a little under a jog to reach a seemingly random classroom on the third floor, knocked twice and impatiently waited to be let inside.

Professor Malfoy was the one who opened the door, a much taller, well-aged version of his son with thinner hair and a pale beard coming in along his chin and narrow jaw. There was no need to describe his usual banded white and green robes, but the ferret resting in a narrow little basket from his belt was a curious addition. Bella the Ferret squeaked happily at the sight of Scorpius and wriggled half-way out of her basket, stubby paws flailing to get closer to him, a curious reaction as the Healer himself looked too surprised to say anything about the two of them being three floors above where they were supposed to be riding their carriage down to the station.

"Dad-" And then Arthur received the additional shock of Scorpius uttering a forbidden word. The boy immediately regretted it when he moved his head a little to see something and his shoulders slumped noticeably under his cloak. "Eh- and Professor Creevey, I... Um-"

Arthur just wanted to give him a proper shove to encourage the words to rise back up, standing there under his own cloak with hands clutching each other. Of course he wanted to help, but that wasn't what he was here for. There was a massive difference between an adult running to other adults with complaints and accusations of misconduct, it was something else for the students to defend themselves and their friends from that same kind of abuse.

So he watched, and maybe even started to pray.

"Scorpius...?" It was the first time since the train in September that Arthur had heard Professor Malfoy address his son directly, and he did it very quietly and with a slight forward tilt of the head to suggest concern. Arthur wasn't overlooked or ignored, but it was obvious that he was here only as support and that Scorpius was meant to be centre stage.

"Changed your mind about going home for Christmas, Kirkland? It's a wonderful time of year. Draco-" Professor Creevey was his usual smiling self and had been standing further inside the classroom. He came forward now with a holiday spring in his step, speaking easily and casually with first Arthur and then Professor Malfoy to get his attention. There was no walking around the issue with Creevey, and he gestured plainly to himself and Arthur. "Term's over, mate, Kirkland and I can have a chat in the hall while you two take a moment. Promise I won't breathe a word to Neville."

Professor Malfoy looked like he relaxed a little bit, a smile almost breaking out when he tried to answer- only to have Scorpius find his voice again first.

"No- Professor Creevey it- it's okay, I-" Scorpius was floundering, weight shifting and hands and arms obviously fidgeting under his cloak, but he was determined and Arthur was encouraged by what he was seeing. "I have a few- some- I want to know about punishments at Hogwarts."

He got himself over the highest hurtle, and as the two professors shared a brief look, Arthur considered his fast prayer's answered and put on his best look of concern to mask how pleased he was. Professor Malfoy was quick to step back into the classroom and silently invited them in, allowing Creevey to fill the space with a jovial tone of voice that matched the dark indigo of his robes this afternoon.

"Planning a holiday heist, Mister Malfoy? Want to know how to keep yourself out of trouble before we wake up and the roof of the Great Hall's gone missing?"

Creevey was talking to lighten the mood, and it almost worked until Scorpius' awkward fumbling with the topic came back. Their Defense teacher hiked one leg up to sit on one of the desks in the empty classroom, some scrolls and books out with quills abandoned where they must have been having some kind of meeting before this interruption. Arthur was keenly aware of the fact that he was maybe going to miss the train home, but he stuck it out next to Scorpius instead.

"It's nothing like that, sir." Arthur spoke up, ready to give a bit of help now after letting Scorpius take the initial leap without any aid. If he'd asked Higgs to come instead, Arthur was sure Charles would have piped up long before now. "It's about- erm..." Actually, he wasn't terribly sure how to phrase it either, not without suddenly putting the focus on himself and that still wasn't what he wanted. He looked at Scorpius showing he was at a loss as well even if it wasn't as dramatic, and it seemed to cut down some of the other student's nerves. Scorpius swallowed hard, took some strength from Arthur refusing to bail on him, and looked up with his first question.

"Are professors allowed to curse students at Hogwarts?" He wound up staring straight between the two men instead of focusing on one or the other, meaning Creevey and Malfoy both took a quick glance at each other before the Healer gestured for the Defense teacher to take the lead.

"Not for sport, Mister Malfoy, but I think you've been cursed once or twice in my lessons as part of demonstrations and drills, haven't you?"

"I mean as punishment, sir."

"A silencing charm now and then isn't unheard of when someone's a bit too chatty."

"But that's a charm..." Scorpius drawing up the difference in spell types made Creevey blink very quickly and shrunk his smile ever so slightly. Sensing an upcoming stretch of silence, Scorpius fumbled for his next question. "Are professors allowed to cause pain then?"

Creevey folded his arms and the two men shared another look, this one longer, and Professor Malfoy's suspicious look was back again. He eyed both of them very carefully and let Creevey speak for him again.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Mister Malfoy." They were on to him and that, Arthur decided, was a good thing.

"Are professors allowed to put painful curses on students?"

Creevey stood up properly and Professor Malfoy straightened up where he'd been leaning back on a different desk. Scorpius' eyes were aimed straight down at the floor now, and he flinched a little despite the cautious voice Creevey answered the question with.

"I'm the only professor here at Hogwarts who teaches curses like that, and I'd never use one on a student."

"I understand- thank you, Professors." Scorpius was absolutely fascinated by the floor and performed a little bow as he spoke, quickly taking a step back. "We have to catch the express back so-"

"Scorpius." Professor Malfoy's voice froze his son completely, but there was no crack or boom, in fact he spoke rather softly while still standing perfectly still in front of them. Even the ferret at his waist was completely silent, perched in her little basket and watching with enough interest to suggest she even understood the things left unsaid. "Dennis, hurry Mister Kirkland down and see if you can manage to get him on the express."

"We've got five minutes left and that train doesn't wait."

"I'd rather wait for Scorpius?" Professor Creevey seemed ready to give it his all and, despite the headaches it would bring him later, Arthur blurted out his response as a question. "If I can? It's alright, I can send my brother an owl." He couldn't stay for Christmas without getting into all kinds of trouble with America and France, but he was allowed to be late for one year.

The air was muddy with awkward feelings. The tension between father and son was so desperately obvious. They did what seemed like their best to keep their relationship out of all Hogwarts affairs and right now, at the very last moment before they could jump out of the school and go back to normal this conflict was cropping up between them. Scorpius' head was still weighed down and Professor Malfoy was taking very shallow breaths, barely able to take his eyes off his son standing in front of them and obviously making a go at getting Creevey and Arthur out of the room.

And Arthur did want to give them space, but at the same time he... almost wanted to make sure the two of them could still revert back to that tentative balance of father and son being put aside for student and Professor.

The silence pressed down on them, and finally Professor Malfoy tried breaking out of it. Very briefly, Arthur almost thought he saw a look of misplaced hurt scar the Professor's face before he spoke.

"I... will contact Mister Kirkland and Missus Malfoy in London. Professor Creevey, if you could..." Handle a house issue for the house professor because things became very complicated very quickly. Arthur hadn't really thought of Creevey and Malfoy as being proper friends, but that was honestly what it sounded like as the Defense teacher readily agreed and Arthur stepped out of the way so Professor Malfoy could sweep out of the room with a regretful look on his face- a look he avoided throwing back at his son.

As soon as Scorpius' father was out of the room and the door was shut behind him, Arthur stepped forward so he was properly next to and supporting his friend. Professor Creevey's patience, it seemed, were as plentiful as his smiles as he bade the two of them sit down at one of the long double desks, and he pulled a chair around across the cold stones and sat down across from them for a chat.

"I don't know what happened-" Scorpius blurted out, eyes focused on the desk now and cloak parted enough that Arthur could see the white-knuckle grip he had on his own trousers.

"But-" so he broke in on the confession to ease the burden, realizing too late when he saw the expectant look on Creevey's face that with Scorpius falling to pieces, Arthur Kirkland was far too calm for all of this. "But we do know something happened."

"And that's alright," Professor Creevey answered, his smile a little softer than normal and really not as happy, curly brown hair piled high on his head over a large nose and kind eyes. He spread his large hands slowly in front of him, kept his voice mellow, and controlled the situation beautifully. "Just tell me what you know..."

So they did.

I have a lot of feelings about Professor Dennis Creevey being a good person ok.