Title: Hogwarts, Class of 2024: Year Three
Setting: Hogwarts; September 2020 to June 2021
Summary: Albus Potter and Rose Weasley find their own way in the world during their seven years at Hogwarts, taught by Professors Neville Longbottom, Gabrielle Delacour, and Teddy Lupin.
Author's Note: All right, so I realize it's been an excessively long time since I last updated, and I think I definitely owe an explanation for that. It's a pretty lame excuse, but I hope you accept it anyway: I've been very busy. I last posted around midterms, and then that spilled into term papers and fiction workshop submissions and finals and then summer school and work, which took up more time than I thought. And that was compounded by a computer crash that took out everything I'd written that wasn't online yet--up to Year Five, Chapter Two, unfortunately. But I had some time recently--mostly because I'm a college student down in New Orleans, and I had to evacuate two days ago from Hurricane Gustav, and so now I'm at home with nothing to do, so decided to pick this story back up! I hope you enjoy it and I'll try not to have such a long hiatus again. I've been writing a lot on this story, actually, and it's shaping up--I'm definitely planning on seeing this project through to the end, so I hope you'll all make it that far with me!

Hogwarts, Class of 2024
Year Four

Chapter Seven

"What's wrong?" Katie asked, after she cornered Albus one day, a few weeks later, as he left his Ancient Runes classroom. "You haven't said two words to me since we've gotten back to school."

"It's nothing," Albus said. "I just—no, it's nothing."

"You can tell me," she offered. "It's not like your girlfriend's jealous of me or anything, right?"

"How'd you know she's my girlfriend?"

"The great lengths you've gone through to hide it," she replied sarcastically. "Every time I see you two together, you're trying as hard as you can to not pounce on her and kiss her."

Albus blushed. "I thought we were doing a good job."

"I know you too well," she replied. "So tell me what's wrong."

"I can't," he said. "I really can't. But Katie—have you ever felt bad about your dad?"

There was a long, piercing silence, that seemed to linger in the air between them for an eternity. "Loads of times," she said slowly. "Why?"

"Well—I mean—you never felt like getting revenge or anything, did you?"

She grinned weakly. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," he said. "Forget I mentioned it."

"No," she replied, trying to keep her voice from quivering. She was unsuccessful. "Let's not forget you mentioned it. You—you don't think I'm doing something bad, do you?" She looked suddenly scared. "If it's about my blood line, Albus, you know perfectly well that—"

"No," he said, darting his eyes. "It's not that, it's just—well, we have Defense now. We shouldn't be late."

Neither of them said anything further as they walked silently down the corridor to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.

Teddy stood there, grinning proudly and looking sharp in his new robes. Determined to make up for lost time, and rebuild his tattered reputation, each lesson was more exciting than the next—and he grew more energized as each day wore on, determined to make this semester his best one ever.

But there was one thing he hadn't done yet—and this had been weighing on him ever since he got back. He hadn't spoken to Gabrielle. She still gave him the cold shoulder every time he passed her—and he had to make peace with her before he could do anything else. He didn't know exactly what he would say—that he valued her as a friend, that he did have feelings for her? Damn it. He didn't even know how he felt. There was a line, between friend and love interest, and that line was far too blurred for Teddy to pinpoint his feelings to Gabrielle. She was a coworker, she was older than him, she was his ex-girlfriend's aunt—and he didn't even know if he did have feelings for her. Not that it would matter. After screwing her over as badly as he did, he doubted she would ever want a relationship with him. That ship had sailed long ago.

He hoisted a smile onto his face, and continued teaching the lesson without thinking much—but it was a success nonetheless. And he made it a point to, right afterwards, talk to Gabrielle; she had a free period, and would undoubtedly be in the faculty common room.

But he was surprised, before he could make a quick getaway, to see Albus waiting to speak with him. They didn't say anything to each other, as Teddy quickly ushered him inside his office.

"What did you want?" he said quickly.

"I—I wanted to talk about the Renegade Ten."

"Why the hell would you want to talk about that?'

"Because James and I overheard you and Dad talking on Christmas, and—"

"I know what you're thinking," Teddy said quickly, "and I thought it too. But still, we mustn't tell anyone. You mustn't betray a friend's trust for anything."

"You—you know? How do you know?"

"You told me," Teddy said. "Last year, remember? That's how we got the Polyjuice Potion made. Ring a bell, Al?"

"You think—you think it refers to Brendan?"

"I thought about it," he said gruffly. "Their king's blood? Whose blood do you think runs through Brendan's? He was bitten by Greyback, wasn't he?"

"I—I didn't think about that."

"Well, we know Brendan," Teddy said, "and he would never hurt anyone. And he'd sure as hell never help the Renegade Ten. He's not like that at all."

"But—"

"And if we tell anyone," he said, "he'd get expelled for sure. Werewolves aren't allowed to attend Hogwarts, and think about the repercussions for us? Aiding him? It's punishable by law—for all of us."

Albus stiffened a bit. "Is there anyone else the prophecy could refer to?"

"Of course," Teddy said. "But I can't name anyone else, can you?"

"No," he said quickly. "I can't."

Albus lied down on the grass later that day, after Quidditch practice, with Scorpius, Oliver, and Cassie sitting down in front of him, staring at him.

"He's been depressed all day," Oliver explained faintly to the two Slytherins.

"I'm just thinking," Albus muttered. "I can't think anymore?"

"It'd be nice to share something with the group," Scorpius answered.

"I—I want to tell you," he said, "but I promised her I wouldn't."

Cassie suddenly looked petrified, pointed discreetly to Scorpius behind his back, and then shook her head violently. Albus quickly, faintly, shook his head back in reply. She sat back down, looking only partially consoled by this, still watching him closely.

"It's about a friend of mine," he clarified, "and I think she could—well, I think—nevermind. I can't say it without breaking my promise to her."

"It's okay to break promises," Scorpius said, "if it's for the good of the order, you know?"

"I won't!" Albus gasped. "I promised, and so I won't—all right?"

Scorpius looked a bit taken aback. "I guess," he replied coldly. He turned to Cassie. "I got some firewhisky. Do you think any of your roommates would be interested in a little bit of a party in my room?"

Cassie rolled her eyes towards Albus, then looked back at her brother. "Surely you can get girls when they're sober?"

"It's harder," he replied frankly. "Have to loosen them up a bit first." He looked towards Albus. "What about you? Any Gryffindor girls you can bring?" He grinned a bit. "I promise you can have first choice."

Albus caught Cassie's eye. Awkward.

"None that I know of," he replied slowly. "But I can't even come, anyway. Oliver and I were going to work on our Herbology project tonight."

"That's not due for another two weeks," Scorpius said, becoming a bit annoyed. "You can do it tomorrow night, can't you?"

Albus shrugged. "What about it, Oliver? Tomorrow night?"

Oliver shrugged too, narrowed his eyes, but then gave a small nod.

There was a quick knock on the door; Gabrielle, in a scarlet dressing gown after her morning shower, rose from the vanity in her bedroom, set down her silver hairbrush, and made her way down the spiral staircase, through the parlor, and to the door.

She swung it open—but the smile vanished from her face when she saw Teddy standing there.

"I haven't talked to you in months," he said quietly, "and I think I need to. Can I come in?"

Gabrielle said nothing, but she stepped back from the door, and allowed him to enter. He sat down on the silk chaise, folded his hands together, and placed them on the dainty French coffee table, focusing only on them, and not Gabrielle's tempting eyes. It didn't matter, anyway; Gabrielle disappeared back into the bedroom.

He stood up, then, stoked the fire, and called, "I've always liked your quarters. It's so much bigger than my one little room."

"You'll have this one next year," she called back. "Professor Parkinson is leaving, and I'm getting hers. Spiral staircase, view of the lake, kitchenette and dining room—can't wait." She opened the door again, coming out fully dressed in a pair of silky silver robes—a color that always made her eyes look shockingly blue and her figure impeccable, and she knew very well that Teddy would notice.

"Look, rehab wasn't easy for me," he began. "But I'm sober, now, Gabrielle."

"Good for you," she replied coldly.

"You don't have to be so hostile to me."

"I don't?" she gasped, taking a step back from him. "Don't make me out to be the bitch, here, Teddy. After what you did to me this summer? You use me to get back at my niece—you take my heart, and twist it so that you can win back the woman you love? You played me, Teddy—and no, I don't think anything you say will ever make me forgive you for that." Tears were falling from her eyes now, but she was determined not to react to them—never let him see you sweat. "We could have been perfect together, Teddy. I was so crazily slit-my-own-wrists in love with you that I didn't even care about the drinking, or about Victoire, or about anything you did. But it's over now. It's all over. I don't love you anymore, and I don't think I ever can."

She had abandoned all pretenses now—her makeup was running and, choking on her own sobs, she latched her arms around Teddy. He slowly rocked her back and forth, hugging her tightly.

"You know what?" he said. "I was alone for almost two months—and I couldn't talk to Victoire, or Neville, or Harry, or anyone. But you know who I missed talking to the most?"

"Me?" she guessed curtly, as she unlatched her arms, and stepped back again. "What a line, Teddy. You'll have to do better than that."

"It's the truth," he said. "I can't bear not having you in my life. I can't bear it, Gabrielle." He gave her a bit of a grin. "I guess now I'm crazy slit-my-own-wrists in love with you, too. I've never regretted anything in my life as much as I regret hurting you."

She said nothing, as she wiped the mascara-tinted tears from her puffy red eyes. "You're going to hurt me if we get together. I know it, Teddy."

"I promise I won't," he said. "But you can't trust me, can you?"

"I can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

There was a long pause, which resonated through the finely furnished room. "It's fine," he said slowly. "I just don't want to lose you. We're friends, aren't we?"

She thought for a second, and then smiled, just slightly. "Of course we are," she said slowly. "We'll always be friends, Lupin, won't we?"

"I don't want you to meet any girls," Cassie said suddenly, as she and Albus sat in the library, at a table in the far back corner, surrounded by tall stacks on all sides.

"What?"

"Tonight. With Scorpius. I mean—I know you won't do anything—will you? No, you won't Stupid question. I—I—"

He set down the book, and leaned across the table. "How could you even think that?"

"I know," she said. "I know you won't. I know. You're so good. Forget I mentioned it. But—well, no. I mean, he'll try to push a girl on you, and you really shouldn't—well, I know you won't—but you shouldn't forget that you're with me."

"Do you want me to tell Scorpius about us, then?"

"No!" she gasped. "You can't, Albus. He'll be so angry."

"And what if he is? I'm crazy about you—and he should know. He'd be happy for us, Cassie."

"Why would we rock the boat?" she finally asked. "I love how things are right now, Albus. I love that we're together."

"I love you."

"You—you do? Oh, Albus—I love you too."

He leaned in to kiss her—but she pulled her head back ."You can't tell Scorpius about us."

"Why the hell not? It's not like we're just messing around or anything. Don't you think he'd be happier knowing I'm dating you than some guy he doesn't even know?"

"He wouldn't be happy either way," she said. "Trust me, Albus. You think he's this happy-go-lucky troublemaker—but he can get mad. Really mad. You've seen him. You hated his guts for what—three years? You know what he can be like."

"And if I did say anything," he said slowly, "and he asked you to stop seeing me—would you?"

"Just don't say anything, all right?"