Albus Severus Potter
Albus POV
"Diffindo!"
He narrowed his eyes, his breaths rasping painfully against his throat as the spell sped with deadly accuracy towards Greyback's shadowed form. Come on…come on…there. The spell spun to the side, slicing across Greyback's dark fur before dissipating into hundreds of blinding red sparks. Greyback roared, bunching his muscles and leaping into the air, his claws gleaming red, his eyes gleaming red, his teeth gleaming red…
He had just enough time to widen his eyes in horror before the impact came. Red-hot pain stabbed into his left side, gripping his chest with burning fingers and twisting his insides into an agonizing knot. He was soaring, flying through the air, his neck snapping backwards as he collided into something solid…a tree, maybe – he wasn't entirely sure of anything anymore. Al blinked groggily, struggling to keep his wits about him.
He couldn't lose consciousness now – he had to defeat this blasted werewolf if it was the last thing he did. He struggled to push himself upwards from his slump on the bloodstained forest ground, his muscles straining as he pushed himself up and braced his back against the tree trunk. Wincing when he realized the tree's bark was slick with blood, Al forced himself to take note of the battle scene in front of him.
What was happening? He couldn't trust his senses anymore – panic joined pain and gripped his heart painfully as he tried to rub at his eyes but found he couldn't move his arms. The clearing was dark, lit only by the occasional flash of a spell and the gleam of the moon against Greyback's teeth and claws. A distant yell – Adela. A flash of dark hair followed shortly by a roar – cursing his sluggishness, Al tried again to reach for his wand. The bloody stick had rolled a few inches away from him – if he could just reach it…
Nothing. He was useless, helpless. He couldn't help Adela. He couldn't help Lorcan. He couldn't do anything – he couldn't even yell. He was still the youngest son of Harry Potter, never able to live up to his father's greatness. He couldn't even beat a bloody werewolf, for Merlin's sake. His father had defeated Voldemort, saved the whole bloody Wizarding World. What could he do when forced to compete with that?
Al was vaguely aware of the temperature in the clearing dropping considerable – forcing himself to face the battle once more and banishing from his minds the thoughts that were as paralyzing as his wounds, he spotted the last glimpses of ice shattering from Greyback's fur –
No.
Adela was running, tripping over branches in her haste to flee. She wouldn't make it – Al's heart sunk, panic gripping his chest once more. Damn it – why couldn't he move? No. No. Nononononono. Greyback was snarling, gripping a knife that seemed to have come from nowhere, the deadly blade dwarfed by his huge paw. The blade screamed through the air, slicing through and—
Landed straight in her side, scarlet blooming and streaming in deadly rivulets down her muddied clothes. NO. He struggled, distantly becoming aware of the familiar orange glow of a shield charm above him. Had she wasted precious time in trying to protect him? Could she have avoided the knife if she hadn't been so busy casting this spell? Why had she used up so much magic in this shield? He cursed her, he cursed Greyback, he cursed himself – wrenching himself upwards and gritting his teeth against the pain, he grabbed his wand with trembling fingers and tried to cast a simple exploding spell –
Nothing.
Pushing down his fear, he slammed a bloodied fist against the shield. The orange rippled but stayed intact. He snarled, backing up against the tree trunk before slamming forward, his body crumpling against the unforgiving magic. A flash of blue light – he looked away, shielding his squinting eyes…when he looked back, she was gone.
A grating yell tore itself from his throat. He screamed, wrenching his arm back and slamming it into the shield with a deafening crack – the orange splintered, dissolving as it fell in jagged shards to the debris-strewn floor – and he was free. Something wet dripped down from his face and arms, and when he glanced down he saw the last few flashes of light as the orange shards disappeared from their place deep within his flesh. He'd deal with that later; now was the time for revenge.
"You bloody bastard," he snarled, meeting Greyback's surprised eyes before raising his arm and whispering coldly, "Bombarda Maxima." A rush of sparks sped down his arm, collecting in his wand before unleashing themselves in a wave of rippling white light –
And the wolf flew backwards, his limbs crumpling as a force powerful enough to ravage a building hit him straight on. Al stumbled forward, the spell leaving him even more exhausted than he had been before. He blinked the white spots from his vision as he laboriously advanced towards the still mass of fur in front of him.
The mass twitched – his wand was up in an instant, weaving through the air as he conjured several silver ropes to wrap the wolf tightly and bind him to the cracked remains of the tree behind him.
He stared down at Greyback, his mind still numb from both pain and shock. He could just kill him now – Merlin knew the wolf had probably killed countless people before. A voice in his mind was whispering, telling him to just do it – revenge was all the sweeter knowing how the wolf had hurt Adela, the one person in his life who he could trust completely, the one person who had met him without even considering his last name, the one person who could made him want to yell in annoyance and argue and kiss and live.
He lifted a trembling arm, forced himself to still, and pointed the wand directly at the wolf's heart.
The voice cheered, whispering smoothly of shouts of his heroic acts, the way people would finally notice him for his actions and not his father's, the way the Aurors might accept him -
Then Adela's voice, as loud and blunt as always pushed the cold voice away, berating him and telling him to just shut up and stop being a bloody prat. He lowered his wand slowly, a small smile curling his lips up for a second as he thought of the brown-haired girl.
"You're just lucky Adela would kill me if I killed you," he said coolly before turning to exit the clearing. He knew what Adela would advise him to do – she'd be yelling at him to get reinforcements and forget about his Slytherin ambition – so although all he wanted to do was go after her immediately, he would swallow his pride and see where the bloody hell Scorpius had gone.
Pausing only to retrieve a small object from underneath Greyback's left paw that was identical to the one that had transported Adela away, he was soon gone, the wolf's body far behind him.
He ran through the trees, angrily pushing past the branches that clawed at him and slowed him down – he didn't have time to go running blindly around – he had to find Scorpius and get to Adela. What if she wa – no. He wouldn't let himself even think of that –
He ran with renewed determination, his feet pounding against the sticks lying haphazardly across the forest floor. His wand was slick with blood and sweat, and he gripped it tightly so as to prevent his dropping it.
Where was Malfoy? Cursing the blonde, he pushed past a gnarled oak, catching a glimpse of white-blonde hair streaked with a dark substance. He sprinted forward, his heart sinking when he saw Scorpius, Wood, Scamander, and Hugo were unconscious, their prone bodies piled carelessly in a small ditch. What were they doing? How had they been injured? Their attackers could still be here - he advanced cautiously, his wand held in front of him as he searched for enemies. The forest seemed to be holding its breath – not a single leaf rustled as Al stepped carefully over leaves stained with circles of scarlet.
He paused at the foot of the ditch, peering downwards at the boys below. They didn't look too injured – Wood had the beginnings of a nasty bruise trailing up his cheek and Scorpius's white shirt was soaked with blood, but they would live.
"Rennervate."
Scorpius was the first to wake, his pale eyelids fluttering before opening to reveal confused silver eyes.
"Wh-?"
"Get up. The goblin has Adela," Al said tightly, his foot tapping impatiently. Every second wasted was a second he could have helped Adela – God, he wished he'd just gone –
Scorpius was up in an instant, answering Al's unspoken question with a nonchalant shrug. "It's mostly the other bastard's blood, not mine," he said, his eyes narrowing and his lips twitching up into a cold smile.
"Brilliant."
The others were up by then, blinking in the darkness as they struggled to get their bearings.
"Some people jumped us – they must have knocked us out, but we still managed to take out one of them and severely injure the othe-" Wood began.
"Right, save it – Lancaster's in trouble, we have to go," he interrupted. Wood scowled but shut his mouth quickly when he realized that his beater was in trouble – he narrowed his eyes at the Ravenclaw captain before turning and producing a silver medallion carefully from his trouser pocket. He regarded the engraved surface silently for a moment before meeting the eyes of the four boys in front of him.
"I took this from Greyback. On three, we'll all touch this and be transported to wherever she is." Not waiting for an answer, he said, "One."
They huddled around him – five unlikely allies, two Ravenclaws, one Gryffindor, and two Slytherins.
"Two."
He was determined to beat the goblin to the ground. He would pay for taking her – they all would. No one hurt her and got away with it.
"Three."
He pressed his hand against the cold metal.
A flash of blue, a pulling sensation to his gut, and –
They were off, spinning away into the unknown.
xxxxxxxxx
He stumbled, catching himself before he fell into the jagged edges of the stones littering the ground in front of him. They were the remains of a smashed tombstone – a cemetery, then. The others appeared with a soft pop behind him, and he quickly motioned for them to be quiet. He crouched in the small ditch they'd landed in, peering outwards. Bright flashes of light appeared sporadically, piercing the deep fog obscuring the cemetery that shrouded everything with darkness.
A glimpse of dasrk brown hair and wide hazel eyes – Adela. She was on the ground, her hands moving about frantically in search for her wand. Damnit – she was defenseless. He scanned the area around her quickly for an enemy – there. A small, hunched form advanced swiftly, holding a dark wand in front of him. Al swiftly took note of the form's pointed ears and short stature – a goblin. The goblin? He narrowed his eyes, his fingers curling into tight fists.
He moved to jump out of the ditch but paused, remembering the four blokes behind him. Gritting his teeth at the delay, he turned swiftly and hissed, "Right, plan is to beat this bloke and not get killed. Got it? Good." Without waiting for a reply, he propelled himself forward, smoothly leaping over the shattered tombstone and sprinting forward, his wand held high in front of him.
A distant clatter from behind him, followed by a muffled grunt of pain – cursing his teammates, Al watched as the goblin pricked his ears before ducking behind a marble statue. Adela hadn't noticed the goblin's movement; she was too busy searching for her wand. He cursed under his breath as he saw the goblin crane his neck around the statue and aim carefully at her back. The bloody coward was going to hit her from behind!
He snarled, whipping his wand forward to cast a silent Bombarda. Ice blue light sped from the tip of his wand in the form of a single arrow dripping crackling power as it pierced the center of the statue.
Slam.
The statue exploded, propelling shards of marble across the cemetery with deadly speed. He ducked just in time to avoid getting beheaded before running forward after the goblin's form.
A spear of golden light – he dove to the ground, grunting when the impact jarred his wounds. Who gave this goblin a wand?
He was up the next second, jabbing his wand in three consecutive motions and sending a beam of emerald light at the goblin.
He narrowed his eyes, his chest heaving as he deflected the counterspell. Time splintered into short fragments as the battle raged on.
One.
He threw a Defodio, running forward as soon as the spell left his wand, his feet slipping over rocks slick with blood.
Two.
A stab of crimson light – Scorpius running forward, Malfoy and Potter working in tandem.
Three.
The goblin cast a Deprimo, slicing a gaping chasm into the ground where he had stood just seconds before. Al snarled, his jaw clenching as he pushed past fatigue and pain to cast another Stupefy.
Four.
How was this goblin sending such powerful magic? Did he never get tired? Questions flit through his head as he struggled to keep his focus. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes, clouding his vision.
Five.
"Diffindo!"
The jinx exploded the stone fountain, forcing the goblin to cast a powerful shield charm over himself. Hugo's pale freckled face shone with determination – there was no brilliant older sister in this situation to outshine him. There was only the younger Weasley and his wand.
He met Hugo's eyes for a second before nodding his understanding, a sense of connection between two younger siblings.
And then he was off again, dodging a Crucio in one moment and sending an Ebublio the next.
Six.
A tornado sprung from his wand, the result of a particularly powerful Flipendo Tria. He almost slumped into unconsciousness, the force of the spell draining his magic rapidly. The tornado sped forward, gathering speed as well as debris as it chased the goblin around before he managed to dispel it.
Seven.
Lysander sped forward, slamming a fist to the goblin's gut, his face shining as tears trailed down his pale face. The goblin howled, jabbing his wand forward and mouthing something indiscernible.
Eight.
Slow motion falling. Lysander crumpling to the ground, cuts blooming on his pale skin. Leaping forward, running, stumbling over rocks in haste to get to him in time.
Nine.
Stretching a hand to his face, millimeters away. Preparing to cast a healing spell –
"Imperio."
A daze, mellow and numbing. Where was he? What was he doing? Standing up, straightening, moving away from the blonde form beneath him.
Ten.
Attack him.
Who?
The blonde one – Scorpius Malfoy.
Why?
Attack him. Now.
Confusion. He looked at the blonde boy in question, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to think, to break free of this dazed haze suffocating him with its mind-numbing fog.
Attack him. Attack him. Attack him.
No, he didn't think he would. A distant memory of laughing in some dungeon somewhere surrounded by green appeared in his mind before quickly being chased away by the fog. He scowled in annoyance, screwing his eyes shut as the voice kept echoing throughout his mind.
What was that memory?
A distant trail…there! He snatched at it, pulling the memory forward stubbornly.
"You're Potter."
He blinked, looking up in surprise to meet silver eyes looking down at him. His gaze traveled from the eyes to the finely shaped nose to the carefully slicked back hair. A Malfoy, then. He stood up from his perch on the emerald couch in the very corner of the Slytherin Dungeon, stubbornly rising so they were at equal levels. He might have the disgrace of being the first Potter in Slytherin, but that didn't mean he would let this bloke look down on him.
"You're Malfoy," he returned steadily. They glared at each other for a few moments before the blonde boy grinned and said, "What's it like to be the big disappointment?"
He bristled for a moment before smirking.
"What's it like to be scorned everywhere as the son of a Death Eater?"
The boy snarled, wrenching forward to land a clumsy punch to his cheek. And they were off, rolling around on the cold ground as their classmates looked on with repulsed horror.
Then they were laughing, him at the blonde's disarrayed hair and Malfoy at the rapidly appearing black eye on the right side of his face.
"Like Quidditch?" Malfoy finally asked after they'd caught their breaths.
"Like it? I love it! What team do you support?"
"Puddlemere United, of course."
The memory faded away, but it was enough – he had a name for the blonde now.
Attack him.
No. He would not.
And suddenly he was on his knees, clutching at his head and shaking violently as he struggled to wrench his arm from its position. No. No. No. Scorpius was looking at him in horror, and Al snarled, slamming his hand to the side in a burst of determination. The voice shrieked in frustration before he managed to break free of its slippery tentacles, banishing it from his mind.
The wand clattered distantly a few yards away, and he breathed heavily, looking up just in time to see a golden arrow pierce his arm.
Pain, jagged and hot.
He hissed, dropping to his feet once more as he clutched at his wound.
"Confringo!"
The yell pierced through the pain-induced haze, and he saw Adela standing firm, her messy hair whipping around her face as she watched the goblin fall. He wrenched himself up, running forward to conjure up ropes to tie the goblin down.
Then he was bending, plucking the wand that had caused so much destruction from the goblin's limp hand.
"Al!" He turned, Scorpius jerking his head in the direction of Adela. Oh no – a sinking feeling settled itself in his gut as he looked over just in time to see her fall to the ground.
"Adela!" He ran forward, slamming to the ground as he cradled her head to his chest. He roared, slamming his fist to the ground in frustration.
After a moment he felt a tentative tap on his shoulder. He looked up, still protectively standing over her body.
Scorpius coughed uncomfortably before saying softly, "Scamander's alive but he'll need some urgent care soon…as well as Lancaster, by the looks of it. We need to send for your father."
He nodded tightly before quickly transferring his attention back to Adela.
"Don't you dare die, Lancaster," he muttered angrily before lifting his wand to perform a healing spell.
The wand was wrenched from his hand quickly, and he looked up in anger to see Scorpius's enraged face.
"Are you insane? If you cast any more spells, there'll be another mark to add to the death count! I don't know how you're conscious as it is – you fought off an Imperius and suffered multiple wounds –"
He opened his mouth to angrily protest, but Scorpius cut him off, saying, "At least let me do it."
He scowled, his Slytherin pride rearing in protest to the charity, but one look at Adela's pale face made up his mind. He shut his mouth and nodded tightly, moving out of Scorpius's way. As the son of one of the most renowned Healers in the world, Scorpius had picked up many a spell from his father and was quite skilled at healing.
Still, that didn't mean he liked having Adela at the mercy of another bloke's spells.
He sighed, shifting his weight as he waited for the pop that would signal his father's – and the rest of the bloody Ministry's – arrival.
He didn't want to face him or anyone else. He didn't want to see the disappointment on their faces – he had been a terrible leader. What kind of person let two people get severely wounded on their watch? He was incompetent, his worst fears realized…
"Oi! Don't do that woe is me thing again. You did a bloody brilliant job," came Scorpius's voice. He started, pulling from his thoughts with a sheepish smile.
He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a loud noise.
Pop.
Brilliant.
He turned slowly, meeting emerald eyes that mirrored his own.
"Hello, Dad," he said uncomfortably. The last word had only just left his mouth when he found himself enveloped by two warm arms.
He stiffened before relaxing, patting his father awkwardly on the back.
Harry Potter pulled back after a moment and said fiercely, "I am so bloody proud of you, Albus. I am so proud to be your father."
He froze, his words caught in his throat. What? Had he just said - ? Swallowing heavily, he fidgeted uneasily before opening his mouth to say something – what, he wasn't completely sure, for at that moment his wound broke open, spilling crimson blood and the remnants of what looked to be the shield charm from before onto the debris below.
"Oh," he managed before succumbing to the darkness.
Author Note: Thanks so much for your patience! It's so weird to have internet again haha xD I hoped you like this chapter in Al's view – hopefully it answered some questions! Please review! As always, all reviews are returned with a teaser of the next chapter c;